“A time to be born, and a time to die. A time to plant, and a time to pluck what is planted; a time to kill, and a time to heal; a time to break down, and a time to build up.” Ecclesiastes 3:2-3

Birth-death, planting-plucking, kill-heal, break down-build up. I notice a theme. Beginning and ending, making and destroying.

I’m not going to use this terminology too literally for my points, that might get weird, but I’ll try and be more analogical.

Birth-Death

You had a time to be born, and you have a time to die (probably). You couldn’t choose to be born, and you should not choose to die either. Until we can make our own bodies work we can’t say we have full power over them. So the attitude people view living with nowadays bugs me a lot. This life is not a long one to begin with. Why throw it away? According to the Bible, God Himself is the source of life, and sin is the source of death. All throughout history wicked men have this in common: not a single one of them valued human life, or any life really. In this age, death is everywhere you look, and movies treat it like it’s a thing to be toyed with and life a thing to be experimented on. What?!!! There is a time to die, but the danger of focusing on it so much is that, quite soon, it ceases to be real to you. I know people who will tell you that the plots of horrid movies are not real to them, so they have no affect on their minds. Never mind the psychos who’ve used such movies as inspiration and the actors who’ve committed suicide over them. Losing value for your life is far worse than losing value for your death. Most people think their death might matter to a couple people, but their life seems to matter to no one. This is wrong because whether you know it or not, every life touches so many others. The movie It’s a Wonderful Life gets it about right. My conclusion is that birth and death are out of our hands and YOLO  and YODO aside, it’s best not to focus on them.

Planting-Plucking

We do have control over what we plant and what we reap. We can literally plant food, or we can plant ideas, words, money, gifts, talents, and so on. But we’re human; it would be silly to suppose everything we plant is good. We’ve all said dumb things and acted badly. We’ve given people false information, and we make mistakes with our money. Sometimes you have to try to undo what you did.

But the idea of reaping really deals with good crops. You can take the wheat and sort out the weeds, but if you plant well there will always be more wheat. It is okay to profit in some way by the work you do. There is a time to give and give (sowing), and there is a time to receive it back. But be sure to share your wealth because the more you sow the more you reap. In one way or another.

But a seed is quite different from the fruit. You could sow money into a charity; you won’t get money back, but the reward of having helped another person. You could sow effort into a project and you will get a finished project, not more effort. This does seem to be a statement of the obvious, but it’s surprising how often we expect to get the same thing back as we gave. (Like in relationships. “I did __  for you so you should do it for me.”) In all honesty, sometimes you sow more seed than you get back. No one says it’s fair or that it isn’t often exhausting. The only thing to do then is conclude the crop was more valuable than the seed anyway. This especially applies to relationships; as well as education and charity work.

[Never be afraid to examine your work for “weeds”; it’ll improve your field in the long run.]

Killing-Healing

This is trickiest of all because killing anything, even an inanimate object or feeling, is a serious thing. I will not suggest ever killing innocent things, (like the daydreams of a child.) Nor do I suggest killing deep things (like love and a sense of justice.) Those are better redirected. But there is a time to kill. For example, there are dreams that never will come true, and if they are not really important to our psyche, it’s better to let them go. There are ideas that are not good for us and should be killed as soon as possible. (Lies about ourselves and about other people, envy, greed, pettiness, are all such ideas.) You can kill a thought by immediately calling it what it is (bad, wrong, a lie) and rejecting it. Imagine you’ve shut your mind to it. Or, even more ceremoniously, writing out your goodbye to a dream that isn’t good for you or a memory that haunts you. (Something I wish soap opera screen writers would do.) Then heal. It’s okay to cry, but healing truly comes by replacing the old things with new. Replanting so to speak. It’s great when one can heal other people, but seeking healing for yourself comes first. And you have to believe it’s possible. Kill the lie that you are stuck with your hang-ups and faults; there really is a cure for all of them. Though it probably won’t be the same for each. (Not that I really have to state that, but there’s always one who’ll try the one-size-fits-all method.)

Break Down-Build Up

We cant pluck away some of the parasites in our lives, but a lot of problems have to be broken down bit by bit. My dad works with bricks quite a lot. In masonry, it’s one brick at a time, each cemented to the next; until, hopefully,  you’ve built a sturdy wall. (If you know what you’re doing.) Tearing down a brick wall isn’t a matter of wrecking balls or other such tools. Bricks are valuable because they’re re-usable, and you don’t want to damage them if they’re still any good. So again, step by step. It’s hard work.

Some things we build in our lives are too crumbly to be useful and tearing them down is all we can do. But most ideas, activities, and relationships have good stuff in them somewhere. Then is the time to be careful about tearing down. It’s okay to have a break down (emotional ones included) if you can pick up the pieces and rebuild something stronger. Sometimes the brick wall can become a brick road if you go about it the right way. But know the people you’re with, know how to perform your activities, and know the truth of your ideas, or I guarantee it’ll be built all wrong crooked and unstable.

Take, for instance, the play “Much Ado About Nothing.” Claudio and Don Pedro do not really know Don Jon’s character nor Hero’s, and trust Don Jon’s word over hers, causing much trouble over something that never happened. It takes very extreme methods to rebuild after that. Of course their trust wasn’t built on the right thing in the first place.

This is already so long it seems unfair to keep going. I hope my examples made sense. I’m looking forward to writing part three. Until then–Natasha

 

Okay confession time: I was planning to do a mystery post. But I found out, I do not write good mysteries. So I say “forget it.”

I wrote about not giving up in my last post so this is ironic. But I did admit that there is a time to give up. And there is a reason why. No one is good at everything, all the time. If you keep trying to excel at something that’s just not important, you’ll wear yourself out and feel guilty, which take your mind off other things you should be doing. writing mysteries is not my gifting nor am I really that interested in it, and trying to finish that post which isn’t that good to begin with will just waste my time.

But that is not to say just because you aren’t good at something you shouldn’t try. In this case I’m quitting because the story isn’t that good, nor inspired, but if you commit to something keep that commitment. Also it takes time to get good at something. I wrote stories for years that were boring and commonplace before people actually began to enjoy my writing. Currently I’m struggling with Geometry. I hate math, especially Algebra, Algebra 1 was not pretty. however I’m refusing to accept defeat this time around. I do have a secret to success. I can sum it up in two verses:

“Don’t worry about anything, instead pray about everything.” (Philippians 4:6)

“I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me.” (Philippians 2:13)

I haven’t told many people this, but my writing improved after I prayed about it; and doing math is easier when I pray through it. Most people would call this positive thinking and yes, that’s important. You have to have the right attitude. But positive thinking won’t make you understand it better. Which is what I needed. You can think that it was just me, but my personal belief is that God gives understanding. Not to mention ability. And that’s actually the number one reason to not try to do things you are not meant to do. You have no ability because it’s not for you. Or you have ability but you feel driven and empty in your actions. There are a lot of reasons people feel like their lives are meaningless, don’t let participating in activities you don’t have any joy in be one of them. As my title states: let it go. It’s okay to be bad at something. It makes accomplishment sweeter.

“Nothing is better for a man than that he should eat and drink, and that his soul should enjoy good in his labor. This also, I saw, was from the hand of God.” (Ecclesiastes 2:24.)

Long story short, when I get it wrong it really sucks. I like figuring things out. I like feeling smart. I like it when other people think I’m right.

But no one is infallible. And I make mistakes. I perceive things incorrectly. And that’s okay. Though it’s also uncomfortable. But it humbles me and reminds me of my limitations.

The Bible strongly warns against not accepting correction. It can get you killed. A person who can never take advice can never mature. And if you can’t say you’re sorry you’ll destroy the relationships in your life.

What if someone else is wrong and won’t admit it? I don’t like it, but sometimes you just have to let it go. Let them be right even if they’re wrong. For the sake of peace forgive and try to forget. But don’t be too good to ask for forgiveness if they think you’re the one who screwed up. (Unless it’s something so morally important that you can’t apologize for it without being a hypocrite.)

This has been a hard lesson to learn, but perhaps one of the most important. And sometimes you have to admit out loud when someone is right about you. That’s not fun. But watch how you’ll mature if you do it.

Last time I wrote about looking around at the bad things in the world, and having courage; and I mentioned heroes. So today I want to talk about two of my personal heroes, Cornelia and Betsie Ten Boom. I’ve read the book “The Hiding Place” several times. It tells the story of these two women and their father, who hid Jews during the Nazi occupation of Holland. They were betrayed and discovered and both women went to three separate Nazi prisons as a result. Corrie was sick when it happened, because of that she was put in solitary confinement. For months she was alone in a small cell with a little square window. Betsie spent her time telling her cellmates about God, and doing her best to beautify prison life. They were then moved to a concentration camp, happily reunited. There they had to work, and learned who the man who’d betrayed them was. Corrie struggled with feelings of hatred for that man…until Betsie reminded her of God’s forgiveness. Later they were moved to an extermination camp. Even there they still told people about God. About two weeks before Corrie was released, Betsie–who was sickly–died. Corrie was not crushed however, though she was sad, because she knew without a doubt where Betsie was. Finally Corrie was released. Home at last she didn’t return to underground work, but began speaking about what she and Betsie had learned in the camps. She opened homes for Jews, Germans, and fellow Dutchmen.

I learned a lot from this book and I can’t do it justice here, I suggest reading it. The story rings true today, Corrie’s world was overtaken with darkness, hate, cruelty, and fear; but her and her families response was always love and goodness and mercy. Their courage they accredited to God alone. In prison Corrie found God to be her hiding place. The verse “Thou art my hiding place and my shield; I hope in they word…” caught her attention even as a child of six. Later she remembered them in prison.

One very profound thing Corrie was taught by her father was after her first sight of death.

“Corrie,” he began gently, “when you, and I go to Amsterdam–when do I give you your ticket?” I (Corrie) sniffed a few times, considering this. “why, just before we get on the train.” “Exactly. And our wise father in heaven knows when we’re going to need things, too. Don’t run out ahead of Him, Corrie. When the time comes that some of us will have to die, you will look into your heart and find the strength you need–just in time.”

Casper Ten Boom’s advice closely resonates to Jesus’ words to His disciples, “But when they arrest you and deliver you up, do not worry beforehand, or premeditate what you will speak. But whatever is given you in that hour, speak that; for it is not you who speak, but the Holy Spirit.” Mark 13:11. Corrie saw the “train ticket” in the future times when someone she knew died. It stayed with her. Our own strength is just not enough. Man fears death above almost all else. We cannot face it with only our strength. There’s an old phrase “There are no atheists in foxholes.”

There is also fear of death in another part of the book. Right in the danger zone. Corrie had a dream or vision of their arrest, she told Betsie. Wondering if it was a vision. Betsie answers: “I don’t know, but if God has shown us bad times ahead, it’s enough for me that He knows about them. That’s why He sometimes shows us things, you know–to tell us that this too is in His hands.”

Again, Betsie’s faith aligns with scripture. When Jesus was warning them in Mark, he also said “But take heed; see, I have told all things beforehand.” (Mark 13:23.) “And you will hear of wars and rumors of wars. See that you are not troubled; for all these things must come to pass, but the end is not yet.” (Matthew 24:6.) Jesus also repeatedly says “But he who endures to the end shall be saved.” (Matthew 24:13.)

Betsie’s peace came from knowledge of another thing as well. During a plane fight, with bombs and explosions (as there will be when there are bombs.) Corrie got out of bed and went into the kitchen where Betsie was. Going back to bed she found a the inch piece of jagged metal on her pillow! It pricked her finger. She raced back down the stairs. As Betsie’s bandaged her hand. Corrie exclaimed. “Betsie, if I hadn’t heard you in the kitchen–” Betsie puts a finger on Corrie’s mouth. “Don’t say it Corrie! There are no if’s in God’s world. And no places that are safer than other places. The center of His will is our only safety– O Corrie, let us pray that we may always know it!”

“Keep me as the apple of your eye; hide me under the shadow of your wings, from the wicked who oppress me, from my deadly enemies who surround me.” (Psalm 17:8-9.) “Where can I go from Your Spirit? Or where can I flee from Your presence? If I ascend into heaven, You are there; if I make my bed in hell, behold, You are there. If I take the wings of the morning, and dwell in the uttermost parts of the sea, even there Your hand shall lead me, and Your right hand shall hold me.” (Psalm 139: 7-10.)

To Betsie, no place was safer than another place. In a thunder storm a tree would be as safe as a house. (I’m not advocating stupidity by the way.) It’s not where we are, but who is watching over us. A child lost in the mall may be in no more danger than one who is home alone. The difference is not the place it’s in whether or not their mom or Dad is with them. It is the same with all of us. A closet, the edge of a cliff, they fell different. But with God there is no difference, He is everywhere. Which is why He says “Have I not commanded you? Be strong and courageous, do not be afraid or discouraged, for the Lord you God is with you wherever you go.” (Joshua 1:9)

That’s all for this article, but watch for part three. There’s more to tell about the Ten Booms.

So I was watching these videos on YouTube about homeschooling misconceptions, and I think it’s hilarious.

You could say “I’ve been a transfer student” and it would be less weird then “I’m homeschooled.”

I just want to write this to say I’m grateful my parents homeschool me. Now it’s not a project, though it may sound like that, it’s really just life. Which is what’s great about it.

I think being educated at home has given me a better view of what really matters. I’m not caught up in all the drama of who likes who, who’s the nerd, who’s popular, and will I get failed in this class? Seriously, why? I’ve failed once or twice but I don’t lose my self esteem over it. I get to ask the question, why is it so important to be popular? Aren’t we all nerds or geeks in some way? If you aren’t you probably don’t have a life.

Being homeschooled (or Home Ed. for short,) means you can’t run from your problems by the usual means. It’s really not about the schooling itself. It’s why.

I like learning. There, I said it. I like trivia games, word games, and games that require me to think. Honestly, it I went to a regular school I don’t think I’d like learning. I need space, to figure out things myself. One time when I was younger I figured out how to add multiplies of ten, without my mom’s help. I was exhilarated. It was a small thing, but it gave me a confidence that I could figure things out myself and come to a correct conclusion.

There are pitfalls. It’s easy for me to feel smarter than the “average” teenager. Superior brain power people! Of course anyone who’s heard me debate whether Barbie and Ken should be together might have their doubts.

That’s another thing about Home Ed. I ask  the question “Why?” Why do we think this way? Why do people do that? The tagline for this blog is a question and answer. Asking “why?” has given me a perspective I don’t take for granted. I know it has a lot to do with my parents and them taking the time to explain why they believe certain things. Also I read a lot.

On the weighty side, I knew about problems like politics; poverty; spiritual conditions; and  foreign diseases; all earlier than perhaps I needed to know. Yet I have been able to ponder the answers better because of it. My life view has always been pragmatic. I never have believed in Santa Claus and the Tooth Fairy, or any fairy. St. Nicholas was a real person and parents put money under your pillow and presents under the tree. I get strange looks when I tell people this. I don’t get it. Doesn’t knowing this help you to know your parents better? What is so bad about that? Why do we need to believe fiction? (Not to sound angry or judgmental, it just doesn’t make sense to me. And, hey maybe you never had that problem, just ignore me in that case.)

Less compromise. My mom calls me “Miss justice.” Unfairness makes me a little crazy. No argument or debate is too small or too big…right?

No, I’m not brainwashed, indoctrinated, or otherwise told what to think. I am a Christian and so is my family and they have been all my life. Kids do not believe everything just because their parents tell them it’s true. Come on, give kids a little more credit than that. Kids stop believing their parents if their parents lie to them. Like telling them for years about Santa Clause and then saying “Um, yeah, he’s not real.” Any kid could then reason: “Hey if my parents lied to me about him, why not about God?” I’m not saying it’s just the parent’s fault, I’m saying the opposite. I always knew it was my choice to believe. I’ve considered the different views. Just because they’re my parents doesn’t mean they can’t have it right. Nothing else has ever made a whole lot of sense to me.

The funniest thing about homeschooling is socializing. I’m one of the few homeschoolers I know who has never been in much of a co-op or group (we tried it, but it fell away). So mostly I hang with my siblings and parents; and kids from my church. I’ve seen as much of regular school social life as I ever care to, and I prefer my siblings to a superficial sort of friendship. Not all school relationships are that way, but too many are. Socializing with people you’re around all day is hilarious.

Schooling is about learning when you’re ready and learning well and knowing how to use your knowledge. I highly recommend it, and I will homeschool my kids if at all possible.

Happy learning!

(I hate that I have to do this.) Disclaimer: I just want to state that all colors used in this story are used by right of having eyes, no colors in this story are symbolic of any race or country or other group of people, any connection with any of those things in purely in the reader’s imagination.

Once upon a time all the colors of the world worked together. They got along splendidly; mixing when needed and other times merely sharing a space. All went well until… one day the color Red decided it didn’t want to be Red. At first the other colors were shocked; who had ever heard of such a thing? They immediately had a council. Red defended the position, saying it wasn’t its fault it was Red, that Red was such an angry and harsh color, and the other colors just didn’t understand how terrible it was to be Red when you wanted to be another color. The other colors began to feel sorry for it, although White did ask, “If you aren’t Red, who will be?” But Black hushed it. The other colors voted to let Red be another color. “I’ve always wanted to be Blue,” said Red. The colors suggested Blue give some of its color to Red, and if enough Blue was put in Red, Red would turn Blue. White cried, “I object! We all know Red and Blue just make Purple! And if there’s no Red, how am I going to make Pink–” Black again muffled White. “If you can’t be nice, White, perhaps you’d better go out,” Yellow said. So White was sent out. Well, after that the plan was put into practice. More and more Blue was put in Red every day. Red also developed ways of fading its own color while Blue was made stronger. But no matter how many times they put Blue in, Red was still merely Purple. Darker and darker Purple. It didn’t concern them at first, but after a while Red began to be impatient, then frustrated, then at last depressed. It was  now a very dark Purple, almost black. “I don’t like it, I can’t color anything.” Red told the Color Council. “Well, it isn’t my fault,” said Blue. “I’ve done all I can, and I’m sick of your demands. I won’t have any color myself soon. I quit!” The other colors weren’t sure what to do. Then Yellow suggested adding some of each color to Red and perhaps darkening the purple till it was blue. Red agreed, and as White wasn’t there to object, it was put in practice. This made things worse than ever. Red really wasn’t sure what color it was now. Eventually the other colors grew disgusted with it. “You’re nothing but a mess now,” said Brown. Red–or Mess–was excluded from the council. Miserably, Mess went about looking for something to do, but it had nothing to color now except the worst things, like muck. “Alas!” Mess wailed. “It was better when I was Red. I could color roses, or tulips, or salmon, or rubies, or rainbows with my friends. Why did I ever call Red an angry or harsh color? I’d rather be Red than nothing in particular.” Mess was startled to see White, busy coloring a cloud. “You were right,” Mess said bitterly. “No sunsets,” White muttered. “Huh?” “Since you changed your color there’s been no sunsets. No Pinks or Reds. The humans are quite tired of it. And the roses are certainly more bland as well, and–” “I get it,” said Mess. “I should have been content to be what I was because then I had some use, and some fun, and now I have neither. Sigh. I just wish I could be Red again.” “You can be,” said White. “What?” “You see, to a certain point, adding White to any color makes it lighter. I’m a base for other colors. (Ever hear that white light is the original of colored light?) Now, if you’ll let me strain out all the other colors, we shall have you yourself again.” “Oh, please do,” Mess begged. It took a very long time, but eventually the other colors were strained out and Red was Red again, just a little wiser than before.

Is it oppressive or restrictive for Red to be Red? For air to be air? For your lungs to work as lungs? Can you hear with your eyes and see with your ears? Is it wrong then for a person to be content as they are? Disliking your sex, hair, eyes, or body is as silly as Red wanting to be Blue. Red’s whole molecular structure would need to be different. This story was a fable about not trying to change what you are, or step outside the right design.