Notes from Estes Park #1

We arrived in Estes Park, CO, yesterday, and we logged 6.5 hiking miles within the first few hours of arriving. I was not in the right mindframe for it (not expecting to do anything that intense the first day), but Wild Basin is a beautiful, water-filled hike. It wasn't too steep, though there were some pretty good parts a bit off the trail. We climbed up above Ouzel Falls, where we caught a nice view of Longs Peak and felled trees (not by man, of course, but we couldn't figure out if by disease, fire, avalanche, or whatever else). I'm feeling pretty good the morning after, and I'm thankful that the soreness of the steriod shot in my foot is wearing off and it feels great today! I'm sure Dad is hurting today, though.

The best part about Griffin Family Vacations is the mass amounts of food we bring but will most likely never eat. Mom, Joy, and I each brought about 10 gallons of food items, from granola to trail mix to cereal to candy bars (in case I can't find a more ice creamy way to satisfy my chocolate fix). In Denver, we ate at Proto's Pizza, a stone's throw from REI outdoor store, and it was AMAZING! After our hike last night, we dined at The Stone Inn in Estes, which has incredible buffalo burgers and sweet potato fries. YUM! Then Joy, Asher, and I got some coffee at Kind. Their Kind Shake (ice cream, expresso, and chocolate - my favorite things) is unbelievable! Needless to say that all the hiking I'm doing on this trip is just so I can eat like a maniac!

Joy and I have decided that for the rest of our lives we are going to make it a priority to spend a week in Estes Park every year. This place is so magnetically magnificent. It doesn't have the curb appeal of the Tetons of Jackson Hole, WY (the most breathtaking site in the US in my opinion), but it has something about it that makes it an adventurer's second home. Someone asked me earlier this summer why I wouldn't want to visit another part of CO since I've been to Estes the last two years, and I responded, why would I want to go anywhere else? The best of CO is here.

Archetypal Wonderings

The other day, I was talking with a friend who showed me a short film he was in, where a girl dreams that he overcomes many obstacles in quest for her. I made the observation that it’s true: all girls want to be rescued. Each woman wants a man to be willing to fight a battle for her, pursue her at any cost to him, slay the dragon, climb the tower, and rescue her from the evil witch’s spell. All those Disney movies didn’t make bank for nothing. The same storyline that we find over and over in fairytales, legends, and folklore across the globe is written on our hearts for a reason. It’s the gospel.

I first heard the word “archetype” when I was assigned as a summer project for my preAP 10th grade English class a paper on the archetypes in The Lord of the Rings’s prequel, The Hobbit, and in the Star Wars trilogy. My research of the assignment’s prompt led me to the Latin roots: arch, meaning ‘first’, and typ, meaning ‘print’, or of course, ‘kind’. So an archetype is the first of its kind, or really, a model for a reoccurring character-type, symbol, situation, etc. For example, in Star Wars, Darth Vader is an archetypal Satan (devil/evil) character, the light saber is an archetypal symbol of magic/knowledge/power, and Luke goes on an archetypal quest of self-discovery while in pursuit of The Force. You get the idea.

It has since intrigued me that most – arguably all – archetypes are not confined to culture, but span across the globe, which has caused many scholars to inquire of the human collective conscious, or subconscious if you’re Freud. Why do we all have these same ideas of truth, beauty, love, fulfillment, etc? I would argue that the best archetypes are written on our hearts because they are a portrait of the gospel.

The ‘plot’, if you will, of the gospel (put in fairytale-ish terms), starts with the King choosing a bride, for His Son (Eph 1:4). As all princess brides should be, she is to be pure, beautiful, and faithful. Of course, it doesn’t take long into the Bible to see that she (we) mess that up, and through evil’s deception, she is placed under a curse and unable to save herself (hence, damsel in distress). Like Sleeping Beauty, Snow White, et al., we are unresponsive, “dead in [our] trespasses and sins” (Eph 2:1). Here’s were the climax of the story comes: our Prince, Jesus Christ, despite our imperfections and even outright rejection of Him, tackles unfathomable obstacles to get to us. He leaves His throne and condescends to humanity, he blamelessly overcomes fleshly sin, and he even defeats the real archetype of evil himself, Satan. But this tale doesn’t end there because He still has to release the curse’s grip on His beloved. He buys back her purity by giving her his own through taking her sin and shame on Himself on the cross, dying the death she is sentenced to, and receiving the wrath of a holy God on Himself. Prince Charming can’t go this far, though, because if he dies, then the princess would have no one to marry; so to die for the princess is noble, but it doesn’t make for a good story. However, Christ our Savior did die, and then rose from the dead because sin and the grave had been conquered; our debt has been paid in full, “tetelestai” (John 19:30). The princess (believer) is saved from evil and free to marry her Prince, sin/death is conquered, and the Prince is exalted.

Sadly, I didn’t make this connection during the conversation, as I rarely do, but thought about it late into the night afterwards. What if the Author and Perfector of our faith planted the archetypal storyline into our “collective subconscious” to preach the beauty of His salvation to our aesthetic psyche?

Your 3 Words

My last assignment of the year was extremely short: three words. The students were to either summarize the year, describe themselves, or motivate others with no more or less than three words that captured their personalities. It was fun to put this together, and it was a pleasure to teach such a dynamic and sweet group of kids!

Meekness vs. Passion

“Blessed are the meek, for they shall inherit the earth” (Matt. 5:5)

I’ve always had a little trouble reconciling the notion of meekness with my inherent and cultivated passionate personality. Dictionary.com defines meekness as being “patient; docile; overly submissive,” which in my mind never fit with the athletic mentality of confidence and zealous exertion. The adage, “Meekness is not weakness, but power under control,” helped the issue, but still didn’t solidify anything for me. But John MacArthur, in his Grace to You study of the beatitudes, shed light on this seeming controversy, and pointed out how one can be both meek and fervent.

The key is the object of your passion. If you are passionate about yourself – your promotion, your recognition, your success – then of course you are not humble, submissive, or gentle, and therefore not meek. If, on the other hand, you are passionate about God and His glory, then you can be humble about yourself and assertive about Him. Jesus was the perfect embodiment of meekness. He did not care how people affronted, ridiculed, beat, abused, or even killed him personally. He took it. However, when people were blaspheming God (i.e., the temple incident in Mark 11), He retaliated with righteous anger. So we are to be passionate, just not about ourselves, but about God’s Holy Name.

This visual helps me so much because I’ve always found it easier to focus on what TO do, rather than what NOT to do. Before, meekness always seemed like negative (don’t promote yourself, don’t desire your own way above others’, etc.), and it does carry that, but it also carries the positive: focus on God, His holiness, and what He deserves. I deserve nothing, which is why I should not promote myself, and also why I should be patient in affliction. He deserves everything, which is why I should be zealous about proclaiming His truth, and give my all to protect the sacredness of His renown.

Meekness is an abandonment of self for an adherence to God.

The Number Game

The game is to list as many numbers as you can connect to your life. I got to fifty, which took me a while, but it was really fun! Comment about your favorite, and try your own!

1 – is for the “Audience of One” – I live for the Soli Deo Gloria!
2 – is for my incredible two parents, Stan and Candy, who reared me in fear and knowledge of the Lord.
3 – is for the holy Trinity – Father, Son, and Holy Spirit.
4 – is the average number of meals in a day for me, the fourth being the most important, ice cream.
5 – is for my age when the Lord called me with His irresistible grace to serve Him.
6 – is for the sports I’ve played/coached competitively: Golf, Softball, Basketball, Soccer, Cheerleading, and Track.
7 – is for the pairs of flip-flops I own. Chaco flip-flops are the best things my feet have ever known!!!
8 – is my favorite number. Reason: as a catcher, I loved the 8th Commandment: “Thou shall not steal.”
9 – is for the number of FCA camps I’ve attended: 5 as a camper and 4 as a huddle leader. FCA camps rock!
10 – is for how many minutes it takes me to run a mile. 
11 – is for my anguish if I’m ever up this late on a school night. My bedtime is 10 pm (hey, 5 am comes early!)
12 – is for the months Chris and I knew each other before he proposed You can see the video on youtube (search “Proposals” and we’re #1)!
13 – is for my age when I received my first kiss. How scandalous!
14 – is for how many days Chris and I knew each other before he told me he was going to marry me. Yeah, that’s hard core. Refer to #12: now that seems like a long time to wait, doesn’t it?
15 – is for my age when I decided to pursue golf. I realized that I’m white, short, and slow, so I’d have a better chance on the links than on the court. I’m sure Pat Summit is still mad at me, but she’ll get over it.
16 – is how many hours Chris and I spent climbing and especially descending Longs Peak – elev. 14,259 – in Rocky Mnt. Natl. Park. I’ve never felt so awesome and foolish – awesome when we summated, foolish when I spent the whole way down throwing up.
17 – is my age when I got into my first car accident. I slid on ice with my brother in the car. After it was over, he told me that I swore like a sailor, but I don’t remember a thing. It’s also the year I found out I was a Calvinist in American Literature class. The teacher talked about TULIP, and I thought, “So, isn’t that what the Bible teaches?” ha!
18 – is for the number of holes on a golf course, the age I went away to college, and how those two merged to bring me to Oklahoma State. Playing golf there disciplined me in the art of perseverance, drive, and humility.
19 – is for the birthdays of my mom and brother. I just realized that.
20 – is how many friends I have on facebook. Times 100.
21 – is for my age when I moved into the Pi Phi house and met my roommate and now best girlfriend, Joy.  That’s also the same year I was engaged and married to my best boyfriend, Chris.  What a year!!!
22 – is for Asher's baseball number. After elbow surgery, I'm thankful God had another plan for him.
23 - is for Colossians 3:23 - "Whatever you do, do it with all your heart, as serving the Lord and not men." One of my all time faves.
24 - is for my basketball number, which I chose because 2 x 4 = 8 (ref. #8). I know, but I think I was 12 when I thought that was cool. I also know a lot of other numbers add or multiply up to 8, but 24 was the prettiest.
25 - is for the number of resolutions I made this last New Years.
26 - is for the number of months of blessed and incredibly fun matrimony!
27 - is for the movie, 27 Dresses, of which I am the complete opposite! I'm praying to be a bridesmaid in one wedding in my lifetime!
28 - is for the time I spent every morning in the car on the way to school either: talking to Mom, listening to John MacArthur via bott radio network, or dancing; but I'm always drinking coffee in my Kind Coffee tumbler!
29 - is for the of books in my "to read this summer" list.
30 - is for the minutes of jam session I have in my classroom every morning before my kids enter at 7:20... If they only knew... But let's keep it where they don't.
31 – is for the number of minutes I can spend on a tredmill, stair-stepper, or gauntlet before I lose focus and start thinking about all the other things I could be doing right now. My threshold on the elliptical is about 12.5 minutes. (I don’t like it very much.)
32 – is for how many verses I memorized in Philippians until I gave in. Sorry, Lacey, I’m such a loser! For those of you who might check, that’s to chapter 2, verse 2.
33 - is for the number of times I said "fixin' ta" in front of Zac until he finally broke me of it. Thanks, by the way.
34 - is for Asher's high school football number. A few concussions and a broken foot later, I'm glad he finished that one, and baseball, too.
35 - is for my basketball number in 6th grade (because 3 + 5 = 8, see #8), but then I came to the conclusion that 24 was such a prettier number.
36 - is for the average par in nine holes of golf. Why was the front nine always so much harder for me to break this?
37 – is for the number I throw out there when I mean a lot. For instance, I’ll tell my students, “There were about 37 essays that did not follow instructions. Prepare to be dominated.” Something like that. If I’m giving a made up statistic, it’s 87%, just because it sounds like a randomly overwhelming majority.
38 – is for the number of students in my 5th hour. Okay, there are 28, but I think a few of them have multiple personalities.
39 – is for the year before 40. I cannot imagine being that old. I hope I have my Masters before then.
40 – is for the score I’d usually record on the front nine. I figure that it’s because I don’t like math, and it’d be easy for me to figure out what I’d need to shoot on the back nine to keep it in the 70’s.  That was the biggest load of bologna ever.
41 – is for the number of books on my bookshelf right now. Yep, I just counted.
42 – is 24 backwards. So if you saw me in my basketball jersey through your rearview mirror, this is what you’d see. Well, kind of.
43 – is how many items my husband has bought (or as he says, “Stole”) on ebay this year.
44 – is how many he’s sold. In the black, baby!  haha
45 – is how many minutes I spent running with my parents’ dog, Aggie, the other day. It was the longest run of my life to-date. I’m still amazed!!!
46 – is for the approximate amount of time you’re actually watching an hour-long program. Fourteen minutes of commercials is about thirteen minutes and 59 seconds too long for me.
47 – is the ugliest number in my book. Bleh!!!
48 – is the number of minutes a child in my class gets to behold BRILLIANCE every weekday.
49 – is the age of my grandma. She’s been 49 for what seems like forever, and that’s what I convinced her to put on her license plate: 4EVR49. You rock, Mimi!
50 – is the age of my amazing mother, who will kill me because I just called her “mother,” but probably not since she most likely won’t read this far… Just kidding, Mom. You know you’re the best thing to happen to energy since sugar.

I could think of more, but I doubt you’d want to read it.

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6th hour Body Paragraph:

There are many such heroes present in The Outsiders. Many boys in this story go beyond their appearance or themselves for others. For example, Johnny Cade is usually a shy, scared boy who is too timid to take action. However, when a group of Socs is attempting to drown Ponyboy, Johnny finds courage to protect his friend by killing Bob, the Soc. When Ponyboy realizes what had happened, Johnny tells Ponyboy that he stabbed Bob because “I had to. They were drowning you, Pony. They might have killed you” (52). Johnny reveals that he acted on behalf of his friend. He knows the consequences of his actions and that it will mean jail for him, or worse, but he makes the decision to sacrifice his own life in order to save his friend. Johnny’s heroic deed must have rubbed off on Ponyboy, because they both later save children from a burning church. As their friend Dally is driving them back from Dairy Queen, the boys notice the burning church, hear the children screaming, and despite the parents’ warning, rush into the burning building. After they rescue the children, one of the grateful parents exclaims that they are “the bravest kids I’ve seen in a long time… are you just professional heroes or something?” (84). The parent is so overwhelmed because the boys came out of nowhere and risked their lives to save complete strangers. Above all, not only did Johnny risk his life, but he ended up giving his life for these kids since he died as a result of the fire. Thus, two of the main characters in this book do not look like typical heroes, but they become heroes when they selflessly consider others’ lives above their own.

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A person should get to know othes instead of stereotyping because judging others is hurtful to both sides. Stereotyping is judging people based on appearance, friends, background, and financial situation, regardless whether the information is true or false. Prejudging someone can hurt their reputation, keep one from getting to know others, and thus keep one from becoming friends with others. In The Outsiders, two feuding groups stereotype each other. The Socs, or stereotype each other. The Socs, or the rich kids, stereotype the Greasers as juvenile delinquents and good-for-nothing hoodlums. The Greasers, on the other hand, stereotype the Socs as spoiled brats who get everything they want and pick fights for fun. Ponyboy, who does not fit his Greaser stereotype, nevertheless judges all Socs as the same throughout the book. His feelings toward the Socs change when he talks to Randy , the “super-Soc,” at the Tasty Freeze. After Randy reveals the problems he and other Socs go through, Ponyboy “remembered Cherry’s voice: Things are rough all over. I knew then what she meant” (117). Ponyboy is recalling an earlier conversation with Cherry Valence, the beautiful, independent Soc. She and Randy teach Ponyboy that even those who seem to have it easy go through rough times. He begins to see that his stereotype of the Socs was wrong. Ponyboy starts to overcome his tendency to stereotyp when he sees Bob’s picture in the yearbook. Up to this point, Ponyboy “had not given Bob much thought,” because Ponyboy only thought of Bob as the horrible Soc who beat up Johnny and who Johnny killed to save him (140). Now, however, he starts to see Bob as a regular guy and even ponders, “What was he like?” (140). This is a maturing step for Ponyboy because he realizes that Bob is not that different from him, and therefore Ponyboy should have given Bob a chance as a person instead of just a Soc. Ponyboy learns that a person is an individual worthy of being known and should not be lumped together with a group.

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In life, everybody has problems, but adversity can make a person stronger because it teaches valuable lessons. Even if someone’s life seems obstacle-free and easy, nobody is perfect even if they seem so on the outside. Each person has his own set of hardships that will either make him or break him. Adversity, or hard times, can help a person learn about himself, about those who care for him, and about what is really important in life. In The Outsiders, Ponyboy learns these lessons through dealing with his hardships and learning about other people’s problems. He learns that even the Socs have trying times, even though it appears they have everything they want. When Ponyboy meets Cherry, the beautiful, intelligent Soc, at the movies, in their conversation, she reveals to him, “We have troubles you’ve never even heard of… Things are rough all over” (34-35). Cherry means that the Socs have different kinds of problems than the Greasers do, but they are just as tough as the Greasers’ problems. Most of the Socs do not seem to respond well to their hardships, but Randy, Bob’s best friend, changes his life for the better because of Bob’s death. Randy decides that fighting is useless and that he wants better than the meaningless life he had in his clique. Not only does Randy learn from his adversity, but Ponyboy does as well. Ponyboy faces tremendous trials in The Outsiders, such as: his parents’ death, gang rivalry, fights, murder, hiding from the law, concussions, dying friends, and others. Because of all he has been through, Ponyboy decides to write his theme about the life of the Greasers because “someone should tell their side of the story, and maybe people would understand” (179). Ponyboy writes his theme to help not only people like himself, but also to help all others too. This shows that his adversity has made him more open, aware, understanding, and loving of other people. He wants to use his experience to help others, which shows incredible strength. Ponyboy and Randy demonstrate how a person can grow through adversity.

1st hour's paragraph (copy entire paragraph and paste into Word)

1st hour Body Paragraph

A person should get to know others instead of stereotyping them because it is better to understand an individual than to lump them into a group. Stereotyping is assuming that someone is the same as their group and judging another person based on their looks, their clothes, their background, or their financial situation. Stereotyping keeps one from getting to know others and creates many problems. Many such problems from stereotyping occur in The Outsiders. The two feuding groups each stereotype the other, which causes fights, jealousy, and hatred. The Socs, who are the rich kids, judge the Greasers as white trash and good for nothing hoodlums. The Greasers, on the other hand, judge the Socs as snooty, heartless jerks who only care about their social status. Ponyboy, as Greaser who does not fit his stereotype, falls into the trap of thinking that all Socs are the same. Because the Socs jumped Johnny and him, Johnny defended Ponyboy by killing the attacker, and Ponyboy now “hated them as bitterly and contemptuously as Dally Winston hated” (114-115). Ponyboy compares his hatred to Dally because he has made clear in the story that Dally despises the whole world. In this hatred, Ponyboy judges each individual Soc by the group, and thus stereotypes them. When Ponyboy gets to know some Socs as individuals, however, he sees that they are people too and should be considered such. For example, when Randy, the “super-Soc,” tells Ponyboy about his friendship with Bob and Bob’s problems, Ponyboy “remembered Cherry’s voice: Things are rough all over. I knew then what she meant” (117). The Soc, Cherry Valence, told Ponyboy this when she befriended him at the movies. She and Randy help Ponyboy understand that everyone has their own problems, and therefore Ponyboy should not stereotype the Socs’ lives as easy. Because each person’s life is different, Ponyboy learns that he should get to know people and try to understand them instead of labeling them by their group.

The Shanks Produce Patience and Therefore Godliness

“Therefore be patient, brethren, until the coming of the Lord. See how the farmer waits for the precious fruit of the earth, waiting patiently for it until it receives the early and latter rain. You also be patient. Establish your hearts, for the coming of the Lord is at hand.” ~James 5:7-8

Last week, the sermon on James 5:7-11, struck a chord with me as I was thinking about its application in my life. In our Bible study the following Friday, we were sharing life examples of patience – or lack thereof – and my example of endurance came out all wrong (as my stories often do), and so I’d like to take a stab at achieving its point by writing it down…

When I arrived on the OSU campus as a freshman, my golf game was at its all-time high. I made the traveling squad for the first tournament, to my coach’s shock and seeming dismay, and sparing the details, it all went downhill from there. I don’t know if it was pressure or voodoo, but at the NCAA Preview, I caught some strand of shank-itis (if you don't know what a "shank" is, look it up on youtube) that stayed in my system for about a year and a half.

…This is where I lost the group to whom I was telling the story, for they thought that they needed to comfort me in my golf-esteem. It’s okay – I know I was and am a decent golfer who can beat the Joe Shmo who didn’t spend every daylight-filled minute outside of class on the links. So back to my story…

My first year and a half of college was pretty much miserable. Everyday I’d spend hours shanking ball after ball in front of coaches and teammates – which I’ve tried to equivocate to other sports, and it’d be like a runner tripping over his left heel. Every step. And 4-6 hours spent on the course each day adds up to many painful hours. My boyfriend of 2 ½ years and I broke up, and this made me realize that I had virtually no girlfriends. I never felt so alone and miserable.

Here’s where the patience part comes in. Now, one could say that I endured this trial, which I did of course, but I think, upon last week’s sermon, that the defining mark of true godly patience is one’s attitude. During this time, I was a speaker for the Fellowship of Christian Athletes (FCA), and, as we’re supposed to, I used my story as my message when speaking to junior high and high school student-athletes. I often focused my message on James 1:2; “… count it all joy when you fall into various trials…” and encouraged them to seek the Lord when things of this world weren’t going the way we wanted them to, and that we must trust that the Lord is using this trial to produce something greater in us. It was good stuff for an 18 year old, but my idea of the “good” that would come out of my trial was that my golf game would come around, I'd win the NCAAs, etc. Hindsight of 5 years shows me just how foolish and narrow-minded my scope was. The idea wasn’t completely selfish: I wanted to be one of those success stories that FCA eats up, and I knew my success could be used to share the gospel of Jesus Christ. Even so, my endurance through shank-ville was motivated by a Joel Osteen-esque, very worldly ambition: God’s allowing this trial in golf, so surely He’s going to bless my golf game if I’m faithful to Him.

The amazing part is that despite my idiocy in what I thought His plan for me was, God did use this time for my good and His glory, and of course golf trophies were not a part of either. Through becoming an English major, I was blessed with the opportunity to study Jonathan Edwards and many other reformed thinkers, which spilled over into what I read and studied on my own time. In the lowest time of my life in many respects, God revealed Himself to me in ineffable ways of such depth that required absolute dependence on and abandon to Him. He wanted me broken. He wanted me to understand that I bring nothing but my sinful self to the cross, and I guess I needed to feel abject humility in a worldly sense before I could fathom it in a spiritual manner.

In many places of scripture we find that it is God who reveals the major truths to our dead hearts and even the smallest tidbits of doctrine, and I think many times that is because it is He alone Who knows what circumstances will prepare our hearts to really absorb each piece of truth about Himself. He knows what will take a belief from an intellectual accent to a heartfelt conviction, and He can procure that encounter. He alone can break a person to the point that they see the beauty and majesty of the doctrines of grace, and though I had always professed their biblical adherence, it was not until I was in my worldly lowest of lows did I realize that the glory of God is more rightly seen from our lowest vantage point.

Hence, patience is a willingness to submit my will for God’s will, to understand and trust that: a) He is omnipotent and has the power to do anything He pleases, b) He is loving and will do what is best for me, and c) what is best for me is to become more like Christ.

Thank you to any who endured this blurb. I pray that you are blessed in your patience with my rambling, and I hope it made some sense!

If you've never actually read...

A Christmas Carol by Charles Dickens, man, oh man, you should. I had seen the play and countless versions of the movie, but I had never read the actual book until a few months before I was to teach it to my 8th grade class. And WOW! The stage version can not possibly do justice to the ineffable description of Dickens. As I'm reading with my class, I am unable to keep from stopping the iPod (on which I have the audio track) every paragraph - or sometimes every sentence - to help them unpack the incredible imagery, beautiful language, and depth of themes and motifs.

Being 13- and 14-year olds, my main goal is to give my students a great experience with a classic work of literature, so that they not only remember it fondly, but so that they also are a little more welcoming of works they get to read in the future. And, dare I say, it's going well so far! My classes are about 2 staves (chapters) behind the other English classes in the building; but, as far as I can tell, the kids (even the ones whom I can barely keep awake on normal days) are really enjoying it! They're participating in questions and answers, connecting experiences and dialog to themes, and (most importantly) laughing at my jokes and acting! :)

In short, this month-and-a-half experience with this novel in the classroom has been outstanding, and I'm thankful for the opportunity to teach such an outstandingly written book. This has renewed my educational zeal, for I am reminded why I got into this profession in the first place - my undying love for literature!

Reading vs. TV

I included the above citation and below letter in my Back to School Night class description for parents.

In an important book on education, Neil Postman notes that “word-centered” people think in a completely different mode from “image-centered” people. He explores the differences between the mental processes involved in reading and those involved in television watching. Reading demands sustained concentration, whereas television promotes a very short attention span. Reading involves (and teaches) logical reasoning, whereas television involves (and teaches) purely emotional responses. Reading promotes continuity, the gradual accumulation of knowledge, and sustained exploration of ideas. Television, on the other hand, fosters fragmentation, anti-intellectualism, and immediate gratification.

Postman does not criticize the content of television – the typical worries about “sex and violence” or the need for quality programming. Rather, the problem is in the properties of the form itself. Language is cognitive, appealing to the mind; images are affective, appealing to the emotions.

Postman goes on to connect the newly emerging dominance of electronic images over words to habits of mind that are having monumental social consequences: to the undermining of authority, the loss of sense of history, hostility to science, pleasure-centeredness, and the emergence of new values based on instant gratification and the need to be continually entertained. The new media direct us “to search for time-compressed experience, short-term relationships, present-oriented accomplishment, simple and immediate solutions. Thus, the teaching of the media curriculum must lead inevitably to a disbelief in long-term planning, in deferred gratification, in the relevance of tradition, and in the need for confronting complexity.” The social acceptance of sexual immorality, the soaring divorce rates, and the pathology of drug abuse may well be related to this pursuit of instant pleasure at all costs.
~from Reading Between the Lines by Gene Edward Vieth, Jr.
(Crossway Books, 1990). pg 21

The most grievous event for a teacher to witness is a student’s refusal to think. Believe it or not, this happens quite often because children today are not used to thinking, only spectating. As your child’s Language Arts teacher, and as one who is concerned with his or her welfare as a human being, I plea with you to encourage and model a reading atmosphere in your home. Most children naturally don’t like to read. Most don’t like vegetables or other beneficial things either. Therefore, please take the necessary steps at home to ensure your child’s mental and emotional health, just as you do their physical health, by increasing their time spent with books and decreasing their time spent in front of the TV!

Memoirs #9: Home Sweet Home

The last day at Jackson, we posed in front of the sign after dropping off Mom and Dad's luggage at the airport (and successfully weighing mine in at 48 pounds - woo hoo!!!). We had a few hours to burn, so we hit the town one more time and...
indulged in the best burger EVER at Billy's Giant Hamburgers, shopped the stores that Mom and I had missed, and...

rode the Alpine Slide!!! The Alpine Slide is a bobsled/gocart-like ride that twists and turns down a ski-slope. I'm going to put a video of it up soon!

I arrived home to my Beeb about 9:45 Thursday night, and we're both so happy I'm home! We went off to St. Louis for a baseball game Saturday, and Sunday brought us (I guess really this time) home for a while. Whew! What a summer! I'm so thankful that I got to embark on this wonderful traveling adventure. It's almost unbelievable that I got to do something so cool. Thank you, Joy, for hosting me in Estes, and thank you Vicki, Mom and Dad for making Jackson possible.
Thus ends the Memoirs of Mountain-Ali and her Whyorado adventures!

Memoirs, part 8: Lake Solitude, continued

There are no words that can do justice to the sunset on the back side of the Tetons. I was lucky to look up when Dad and I were setting up camp for the night. This is the west side of the Grand Teton (I'm pretty sure) in all its glory.

Wow.

Dad set up my hammock for camp; I had only tried sleeping in a hammock once, but this Hennessee Hammock was awesome! It opens up down the middle on bottom, so I had to get in my sleeping bag (pictured), hop over to the hammock, lift it up and put myself through the hole, sit down, lean back, and wriggle up in there. I truly felt like a catepiller entering the cacoon, though the morning did not bring forth the expected results from such a struggle. However, it was not too bad of a night, and we cooked eggs and oatmeal the next morning, and we were on our way!

This was one of the many waterfalls on the hike. It is just below Lake Solitude, as you can see via the sign sticking out of the snow. There was a lot of snow toward the top of our hike, which baffled me, since it was about 75 degrees in the sunshine.

In Estes, Joy had asked me whether I liked hiking up or down the mountain better. I've figured out that I like going up much better than coming down, though it would seem that going down is easier. Well, in a sense it is easier, but when you're going up, you have a lot of athletic-mindedness going for you. You're pushing toward a goal. You're telling yourself, "I'd better do this or else I'll look like an idiot." You can set mini-goals along the way. However, when you're coming back down, you just want to get the heck out of there, and it can't happen soon enough (which of course, makes it seem sooooooo much longer!). Not to mention that the blister on my heel that I mentioned in a previous blog was now up to the size of a bona fide quarter, red and orange, and swollen. I just wanted to run down that beast so I could take off my hiking boots and burn them!

Well, we did get down soon enough, and I'm debating donating my boots to the leather recycling bin. I video-taped the popping of the blister, but I'll have to wait till I get home to delight everyone with that!

This is a pic of the 'Mud House' where we're staying. The windows open up to the mountains (below), and the Jackson Hole Country Club is out the back door. This place is amazing!

I took this picture of the Grand Tetons at 6:25 this morning. I'm not sure if I got the timing right, but hopefully Chris can help me bring out the beauty in the photos when I get home! Did I mention that I love this place?!?

Looking the other direction, to the east of the Mud House is the 'Sleeping Indian.' The sun is peaking over his chest. His feet would be to the left side of the pic, and what you see are his arms crossed over his chest, his nose profile and headdress (as I'm sure all Indian chiefs slept that way!).

I'll get some good pictures of Jackson Hole (the town) tomorrow. Mom and I are going shopping while Dad does another hike without shoe-destroyer-Ali.

*Side note: I really miss you, Beeb! I wish more than anything you were here, and I can't wait till I see you again Thursday night!

Memoirs part 6: Joyous Estes

I decided to upload some pics of my time in Estes apart from the hiking adventures. :) For some reason, blogspot will only allow me to upload three pictures in a post, and if anyone could help me figure out how to do more, I'll buy you ice cream!

Joy and Nate bought hammocks at a concert the night before I flew in, and here's a pic of Joy and me trying it out. We hung it up in a little park of downtown Estes and read for a bit. Well, I guess we spent most of our time taking weird (on my part) pics and laughing. So So fun!


Joy met Nate through his daily 6:30 devotion times in Kind Coffee. The first thing she told me about him was that he brings his copy of My Utmost For His Highest by Oswald Chambers and The Bible to the coffee shop every morning. Well, that sold me! I got to meet him the night before I left Estes, since he'd been working a camp for his church's youth group all week. They are Cute!





This is at some (I'm told) big burger chain restaurant in Denver. I can't remember the name, but our ketchup sure is happy!

I was so sad to leave my friend, especially since I don't know when I'll get to see her again! [Wow, I'm seriously about to cry]. BUT if she chooses to move out to Colorado for good, I guess I'll just have to come visit her every summer. Man, that'd be a chore.



***See more pics on my facebook albums: Album1 and Album2

Memoirs part 7: Hike #4 - Jackson Hole!!!

Sunday evening I arrived at my favorite place on earth - Jackson Hole, Wyoming!!! I love Estes to death, but there's something about the Grand Tetons that can never be compared to anything else. It might be the sheer power and majesty desplayed by the flat plane that runs smack into a wall of mountain as far as the eye can see. I've never seen anything as beautiful.

This pic is after a pizza dinner: Uncle King, Aunt Glenna, Dad, Mom, and me. The sun is washing out the peaks of the mountains. There are better pictures below.

The next morning, Sunday, Mom informed me that I was the only one that had not hiked to Lake Solitude. I replied, "I feel so alone!" but she didn't note the humor as it was 6 am. Such began my trek to become 'one of the guys'. [Fill in: Dad took Asher and the Nelson boys to Lake Solitude NINE years ago and I couldn't go because the day before one of them had pushed me off a rock and sprained my ankle.] I can't believe it's been that long since we were here!!!

Dad and I took off on our overnight hike through the Tetons. We started off with a much-too-large breakfast at the Moose Lodge (which you see here). We're thinking about photo-shopping Asher and Chris into this picture for Mom and Dad's Christmas card! :)

Then, from the trailhead, we took a ferry across Jenny Lake and Mom and Aunt Glenna joined us up to Inspiration Point.

Dad's pointing out our 10 mi hike to Lake Solitude, were we camped overnight and then hiked back.



Behind us is Hidden Falls, a beautiful photo-op about 3/4 a mile and 300' up the trail.












Here I am at Inspiration Point. It's about a mile and and some up the trail, but I think getting there is the steepest part of the hike. It inspires those who stop to admire the view of Jenny Lake.




Eight or so miles later: Lake Solitude. We saw a few moose, marmots, and waterfalls on the way, but the most captivating views were of the cliffs and peaks surrounding us. You almost feel like you are trapped with no way out as you gaze up at 11,000 foot tall rocks in every direction. We arrived here about 3:15 in the after noon, and since we were going to spend the night up here, we took it easy - Dad took a nap on the 'beach' and I explored around the other side of the lake.

I figured out how to put more pictures on a single blog (by myself!), but I think it's reached its max at six. Go here for more pics, and I'll finish the hike on the Memoirs, part 8!

Memoirs #5: Hike #3 - Twin Sisters

Friday, my last full day in Estes, Joy and I traveled up the 3.9 mi hike to the summit of Twin Sisters peak (all together now: awwwwww). The top was 11,280, I believe (I don't have my notes with me). The really funny thing about this hike was the fact that Joy was NOT at all excited about it. I really felt that I was dragging her along. We were engaged in great conversation most of the way, which made the steep incline a little more bearable and breathtaking (due to lack of oxygen more than emotion). However, Joy was a trooper, appeasing her guest in a semi-hardcore hike. :)

When we summitted, we noticed some clouds brewing, so we figured we needed to get down quickly. But we did not realize how quickly! When we were still about a mile out from the trailhead, the clouds openned up and drenched us in a downpour! We started high-tailing it out of there - striding bolders and fallen trees while giggling as water droplets the size of Frosted Mini Wheats pounded our eyeballs. When we finally got into her Jeep, I got video documentation of Joy's exclamation of how "HARDCORE" we are! Twin Sisters = priceless.

Due to the multiple hiking days within a short time span, coupled with wet socks due to rivers and rain and aging shoes, a massive blister formed on my heel. It's about the size of a nickel here. This thing is awesome, and it only got worse the next few days!!!

Memoirs, part 4: Hike #2: Thatchtop

Thursday. 7:30 - 2:45.

Bear Lake to Sky Pond - about 3.5 mi

Sky Pond to Thatchertop - about 1.5 mi

Thatchertop by Solitude Lake, through Glacial Gorge back to Bear Lake - about 5 mi

Overall: about 10 miles, about 3,400 feet elevation gain (start 9,400 and topped out at 12,836)

This was an incredibly intense hike. It started out pretty normal. Many people hike to Sky Pond (pic #1). It is lovely. It is nestled against a lovely piece of the Continental Divide. However, my guide, Derek Brooks, a Duncan native who came out for a summer a few years ago and now calls Estes home (I'm finding out that this is a common occurrence out here) figured out I'm hardcore, and suggested that we find a way up to Thatchtop Peak. We didn't exactly know how to get there, so he suggested the rocks on the left side of pic #1. They are also in pic #2.

This was out of control. We climbed (not hiked, climbed) this loose-rock face in about an hour and a half (it had taken us about 2 hours to get to Sky). When I tried to take out some trail mix, Derek looked at me and said, "No. You're going to be a hard-core hiker today. No eating until we summit." I thought this was halariously mean. Anger was my energy source up the rock face.

Looking down was incredible to see how far we'd come, and surprisingly much more encouraging than looking up at what we had ahead. Pic #2 is about halfway up the face.

I have a t-shirt from Longs Peak that says "You've never really lived until you've almost died." When any miscalculated step could send you plummeting to a stony death, I realized that that idea is more than just an adrenaline rush - it's indescribably humbling and exhilarating at the same time. Humbling in that you realize how small you are and how incredibly fragile your life is. When we finally reached the top, I felt this paradoxal pride coupled with humility. Pride in that, "Wow, look what I just did. I'm flipping amazing," but then humility in that, "What nearly killed me, God formed with one breath. Wow."

When we got to the top, this is the view of the other side. That ridiculously huge piece of granite in the center is the back (northeast) side of Longs Peak. Chris and I climbed that last summer. Doesn't she just look like a beast from this angle? Well, believe me, she is!

We meant to climb Thatchtop, but instead climbed what is known as Thatchtop-Powell Ridge that runs between the two peaks. Derek didn't think that very many (if any) people climbed up where we did. We came out higher than the actuall peak, and the ridge was a very narrow spine that kept us fully exposed to huge mountain winds while shimmying along and jumping across bolders. Again, one wrong step, and you won't have time to wish you had paid more attention.. I'll try to get more pics on here of the ridge and the way down as well.

It was one amazing hike. The scenery was breathtaking, the exercise strenuous, and the conversation fantastic. Derek and I discussed some great theology when he wasn't way ahead of me on the trail. I am so glad I got to take the road less traveled!

"Baby Got Book"

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tTYr3JuueF4

This video is hilarious. I'm not saying I agree with everything theologically, but I laughed out loud multiple times. Jen C, I think this video describes you!

100% Whole Wheat

My multi-talented husband lightened the picture of Joy and me... Thanks Beeb!







I've been thinking on the parable of the wheat and the tares because MacArthur's The Gospel According to Jesus gave me a new perspective on the story. Matthew 13:24-30 -

• "The kingdom of heaven is likened unto a man which sowed good seed in his field: but while men slept, his enemy came and sowed tares among the wheat, and went his way. But when the lade was sprung up, and brought forth fruit, the appeared the tares also. So the servants of teh householder came and said unto him, Sir, didst not thou sow good seed in thy field? from whence then hath it tares? He said to them: an enemy hath done this. The servants said unto him, Wilt thou then that we go and gather them up? But he said, Nay, lest while ye gather up the tares, ye root up also the wheat with them. Let both grow together until the harvest: ad in the time of harvest I will say to the reapers, Gather ye together first the tares, and bind them in bundles to burn them; but gather the wheat into my barn.

What I learned from John MacArthur is that people/preachers often use this parable to condone unbelievers within a congregation. Because Jesus later explains to the disciples that the field represents the World in the parable, the field should not mean the church or the body of Christ. Also, MacArthur points out that this is more a warning about people who look like or profess to be christians but really are not. Tares completely resemble wheat, but when harvested, they have an empty hull. Thus, they are like professing christians who maybe look and sound like the sheep they are emulating, but they produce no fruit (they are empty). To relate to the parables surrounding this one, they may spring up quickly but without root, and thus become scorched under the heat of persecution; or they may not be like the man who sold everything he had buy the field with treasure or the pearl of great price.

The interesting thing to me about this parable is that all believers are (or at least appear to be?) tares (spiritually , unregenerate, sons of iniquity, broods of vipers, etc) before the Holy Spirit rebirths our soul. The Lord alone knows who the Father has given Him to become wheat, so when the servants ask Him if they can go gather up the tares before the harvest, He doesn't let them because He has miracles yet to perform in people's hearts.

Conclusion? Examine yourself, that you are 100% whole grain wheat (not just enriched flour!). Don't be surprised at the empty hulls around you, for there seem to be so many these days, and therefore fill your speech to all with the gospel of Truth. Other conclusions?