There ya go. The previous two were from my Writing and Literacy class, so I'll probably be posting more of the same in the future. But I'll try not to use them as my weekly post.

Fingers crossed.

I also wanted to make it clear that, although I haven't mentioned specific anecdotes in which my mother plays a role, she was indescribably important in my spiritual and literacy growth. That is all.

Food Court Philosophy

My seventh grade year, I had just returned to Christ is King, my small, private, christian school, after three years of homeschooling. Our principal and Bible teacher was a short, stocky, and vivacious Filipino man named Raul. As a function of the Bible class, he sequestered the top three grades at our school (7th - 9th grades), whom he called "forerunners" and formed a book club, among other things. Every Wednesday, instead of getting a packed lunch, we got money to go to the food court at the mall. There we would scootch the tables into a shape that fit us all, and disperse to purchase food. There was a dull roar that accompanied our discussion after we had all eaten. Being a slow eater, I was forced to listen to the first part of the discussion with my mouth full of some salty, greasy staple of fast food. We usually sat right next to the arcade, which was frequently a distraction. It had completely clear windows that offered a perfect view of a character on the side of one of the consoles whom my friend Lewis dubbed "steroid man". That was also back in the days when Runza used to give away free balloons, so I started getting them just to suck the helium and make my voice sound funny.

Overall it turned out to be a hit, though. The book we were assigned was called "The Crimson Tapestry" and it combined the vocabulary of a grad student in linguistics with the plot line and dialog of a horny adolescent. It remains one of my favorite books, and the conversations we had about it were revolutionary to me. Raul was a very passionate and influential man. He was constantly challenging us, especially the boys, in our thinking and worshiping habits. In every function he was involved in at the school, he called for a higher standard of maturity. To this day the seventh grade is one I point to as the one in which I grew up the most, and that primarily because of Raul.

Flags and Hot Wheels

One of the most revelatory and pivotal experiences in my life where literacy is concerned took place when I was probably around seven years old. What seemed like once a week, my dad would take my brother and me into the computer room where we had a big world map on the wall. There, we would sit and read the "Flags" section of the World Book and  memorize, putting each stripe and emblem from the encyclopedia next to a shape on the map. Every week there would be a recital of the flags we were expected to know, and for every five new flags we could name, we would get a brand new Hot Wheels car. Combined with the atlases and picture books from National Geographic, our unofficial geography lessons became a color-spangled foundation that grew into a great desire to experience all the places the world has to offer. It didn't bother us in the slightest that the scheduled time meant we couldn't play outside or on the computer, because it was just plain fun. We learned we could count on that time every week to explore and get some sweet-action toys. The combination of structure and creativity became a quality I look for in most all further discourses I encounter and plays a great role in my dissatisfaction with and under-performance in a university setting.

Scholasticism

Since it's entirely improbable that I will be able to muster two more of those posts before Friday, I'll give myself a break and post autobiographical snippets that I've been writing for class.

Aren't I kind?

Growthiness

As expected, my resolution's first deadline came and went without so much as a haiku to show for it. Since the second deadline was eclipsed by the first Husker football game, I now have three posts to write by Friday. My tardiness has one perk however. Namely, I have an easy choice for a perfect first topic: Personal Deadlines. Here we go.

I'll begin exploring the topic of deadlines using a situation I find congruent and helpful. Growing up in a Christian home, school, and church, we were often encouraged to assess our personal habits and choices to test whether or not we were "living what we believed". It didn't take long for me to notice the discrepancy, and I became very discouraged with the observation that I couldn't live up the the standard of religious living expected by my elders. There were so many ideas for applied principles that seemed like life-changing formulas for excellence after an evening in a group of like-minded folks, but far from practical in the morning or when I was alone.

Then I came across a different perspective on the matter that seems like a downer at first glance, but actually gave me a great deal of hope. I believe it was my dad who first introduced me to the concept and then it was reenforced through the various christian political functions in which I was involved. They posited that not only was it acceptable to legislate morality, it was impossible not to do so. This led to a more personal application of the postulate whose primary change was semantic, but revolutionary to me: It's impossible not to live what you believe, because your beliefs necessarily dictate your choices. The truth was naturally much more demanding than the hypothesis I grew up with. Now, there's still a bit of the old mentality that remains. It is possible to know and know about other beliefs that would be more wholesome and glorifying to God without actually believing them. It is also possible to use that knowledge to slowly change what you believe. The fundamental change for me came to a head in the difference between choices on a whim provoked by people and atmosphere, and those formed by habits and the product of consistent, deliberate exercise of will power.

This is where that situation really merges with the topic of deadlines, and where of course an excuse is required on my part. Since what one believes steers the choices he makes, the choice not to make my weekly blogging enough a priority not to forget it, it belies a baser belief that personal reflection and practice writing really isn't as important as I "know" in my head that it is. Personal deadlines, goals, and habits and the active responses that result ultimately make up one's discipline; discipline to a large extent defines maturity, and maturity leads to and is a form of excellence. Does that mean that my lack of response at first necessarily means that I'm immature? Yes. But my resolve to finish this post and catch up to the originally scheduled deadline represents growth, which leads me to the bright side of my above discovery.

Learning about the nature and definition of "belief" sparked a potent course of development in my spiritual development above everything else. Operating simultaneously on this new knowledge and the knowledge that without the actual, visible work of the gospel I would care nothing for a more perfect belief system, I began to notice that "living what I believed", which was called for by the christian culture at large, was primarily a call to respond to an emotional high. While there is nothing wrong with responding to one's feelings, or using them to perform otherwise difficult tasks, that pressure nearly overlooked the power of effecting an entire lifestyle and worldview that allows me to even sort through these emotions.

In closing, and in light of the above information, there are three things that have risen above the rest in my life as being beacons of God's work for me:


In ascending order,
3) My home church's devotion to world missions
2) The patience and loyalty of my friends
1) My parents' and their parents' lasting marriages