Irish Hills

The Schindler’s don’t even get to give Terri a decent burial. Michael Schiavo will, “Cremate his wife’s body and bury the remains in Pennsylvania, his home state.” That makes me sick.

Coram Deo

Marriage: a union sanctioned by God. Responsibility. Commitment.

One thing that really gets me grumpy is when two people who want to get married decide to do so, only they want to wait for a couple of years before they do.

I believe that when you decide to get married, you should it as quickly as possible. I’ve heard of people waiting even six years, staying engaged, to get married! Why? So the other person will have a chance to back out if they want to?

Certainly marriage is nothing to throw yourself into without thought. The person you’re about to marry ought to be your partner for life. Marriage is when you grow together, not before. It’s when you discover all the bumps and follies that you and your partner possess, it’s when you fix them together. The commitment that you have both pladged to each other makes it doubly hard to just back out. It causes you to learn. Marriage includes the other person’s faults, therefore trying to find a perfect mate, by having a long engagement, is just silly.

One of my all-time favorite movies is Seven Brides For Seven Brothers. In it Adam Pontibee goes to town looking for a wife. Since winter’s coming and he won’t be back in town for a few months, he needs to get married right away. High and low, all through town, he looks for her. When he finds her, he knows right off that, “She’s the gal for me.” He promptly marries her.

If Michael Schiavo had know aforehand about his wife’s sickness, would he still have married her? Or would he have broken it off? Marriage includes a “till death do we part, and in sickness and health.” I think that he broke his sacred wedding vows, and therefore destroyed the marriage. Marriage is a sacrament, and if one person doesn’t uphold their part of that sacrament then it ceases to exist. Her parents were the ones who should have had her then.

In the wild west, marriage was a need; you could never tell when your partner would die, and having a mother/father for your youngun’s was important. Many weddings just happened. No big to do, no two-or-three-year courtship. All it took was a commitment and a willing heart. Love wasn’t even a necessity in the beginning, just was a common bond. And I hope that when I get married I will love, but our common bond will be the love and willingness to serve Jesus Christ.

Coram Deo! Gracey

When I read this story I was just amazed. Believe it or not, when I was in San Antonio, one of the movies that we watched was a movie called Drifting it was the story of a pastor and his wife, when confronted, were not willing to die for their faith; as many young students did, in this story.

Would I be willing to die for Christ? This is the tough question I have to ask myself. If someone put a gun to my head and asked me that, what would I say?

What did the Scottish covenanters say, when they were being hanged or tortured. What did the Two Margarets do when they were told to renounce their Lord and Savior?

Think about it. All over the world, people are martyred for their love for Christ. Would you be willing to die too?

Thanks to James for the link.

Editor’s Note: Duh, my Mom just told me that, that was the shooting at Columbine. Put two and two together girl!

Coram Deo! Gracey

I’m sitting here, writing in shock. Terri Schiavo just died. Please pray for her family. And please pray that her justice will be served to her murderers, I cannot even begin to express what I’m feeling right now, there are no words.

Coram Deo

I have said here before that I read too much literature, which is true. But my reading list compared to this man’s, is pitiful. Absolutely pitiful.

I made a long list of literary works that I should read, all of them dating from the seventeenth century—my major period. I showed it to my father. The list contained hundreds of items: “Is it too much?” I asked. “Not nearly enough,” he answered. “You won’t know much if you read just those. What about Pope? What about Wordsworth? What about Browning?” “They’re not seventeenth—century,” I replied rather lamely. “Nonsense,” he said. Of course he was right.

I decided I knew nothing; my mind was a literary tabula rasa; I would have to start from scratch. I went to Butler Library, the great library of Columbia University, and obtained a card for access to the stacks. English literature, I learned, was shelved on the sixth floor of the stacks; there were more than ten thousand titles. I entered the sixth—floor stacks for the first time on a September day and began to read every book on every shelf. I emerged on a bright day in the following May, my eyes blinking.

Of course I did not read every one of the ten thousand titles. But I held almost every one in my hands; I hefted it; I flicked through its pages. I read some pages of every book, or almost every one; and I read many books from beginning to end. I did practically nothing else that year. It was a happy time, although I would not want to repeat the experience. I have recommended it to students; to the best of my knowledge none has ever done this. Perhaps I am the only person who ever “read” all the books on the sixth floor of Butler Library in a year.

In dark moments I was encouraged by my father. “How will I ever remember all those books?” I would complain. “Don’t try,” he would say. “It isn’t important to remember them all. What is important to know you will know, at the end of this year. What isn’t important you’ll forget.”

Looking back, I realize that what happened during the year was that certain books emerged from the sea of literature that surrounded me, unmistakably and remarkably. There was a long shelf of Elizabethan plays, hundreds of them, each the subject of a textual analysis that had won some student a Ph.D. I read many of them; the experience, as much as anything, taught me how good are the plays of Shakespeare. I skimmed through dozens of volumes of eighteenth-century satires; the experience confirmed the uniqueness of Dryden and Pope. The scores of three-volume novels by nineteenth-century women writers that I flipped through established with certainty the greatness of Jane Austen and George Eliot. I came to understand at that time which books are good and which are not and why. It is a lesson I have not forgotten.

I found this little tidbit at Rick Saenz’s website. Go read some of his great articles.

Okay Mom where do you want me to start?

Coram Deo! Grace

So Grace, you ask, why do you love Virginia so much. Thank’s for posing that question, I’ve been waiting a long time for someone to ask me.

Perhaps I have developed a deep love for Virginia, because up from the raw earth and gentle Appalchians have risen many great men and women. Two of the greatest Christian American heros, Lee and Jackson, were born and raised there, and I challenge anybody who thinks them otherwise. “Stonewall” Jackson was one of the greatest militay strategists of all time. Lee was a great thinker and made amazing choices against all odds. What I greatly admire about both these men, is that they fought and died for what they believed in, hypocrisy just didn’t exist in their dictionaries.

I love the history that covers every inch of ground, though the same could be said about any other state, for me Virginia is even more so. From the Colonials to our bloody War For Independance, to the Civil War and beyond.

I love all the fiercness of the Virginians that I read about. Their great faith (and great leaders even today) and their stick tuitivness in the face of danger.

I love the laid back Southern lifestyle, with a come-what-may, feeling.

Coram Deo, Grace

What is there that at times, can bring us closer to an unearthly expression? When a thousand voices raised in full harmony are directed toward the sky. When a simple tune plucks at our heartstrings with an amazing force. A song going at full beat, that won’t let us stand still. The wonderful power of music…

Coram Deo! Grace Dahling

I think that for a long time here, I haven’t been writing anything really substantial. Hmmm, I need to start thinking deeper. Look out she’s thinking!! Err, substantial, yes. ; )

Coram Deo! Gracey

A few of my great accomplishments for the day:

Drank an entire cup of coffee. I have trouble doing that. Not that I don’t like coffee, I have it often, I just have trouble draining the last drop.

Finished my schoolbook, When Knighthood Was in Flower. It was rather romantic *ewwww, are they going to kiss again?* But it was a very fun retelling of the great love story of Charles Brandon and Mary Tudor. (For those of you who don’t know your history very well, that was Henry the Eight’s sister.)

I learned how to yodel. Yah-old-ladyeee!!!

Did I ever mention that I got the most perfect cowboy hat? It’s a black Buck Jones and is 100% wool/felt.

Coram Deo! Grace

When they took Terri Schiavo off her feeding tube 12 days ago, they told everyone one that her death would be “merciful and quick”, yet still she lingers on, refusing to give in. I’m afraid though, that in a few more days, Michael Schiavo will soon have his troublesome “wife” out of the way. Terri’s case has inspired many to blog about her, telling the real truth behind all the lies that are killing this woman. Please keep up with Doug Phillips as he writes about Terri. Many people are unaware of the horrible torture that she is going through, or worse don’t even care, like I said, we’ve now evolved into an age of indifference.

Backwater Report has also had many good posts on this pending matter.

Coram Deo! Gracey