7 Quick Takes: Spelling, Vodka and the Gospel

One
I sensibly hauled myself to the walk-in yesterday to see about arresting the increasing fiery pain in my ears. We’ve all had a cold since the beginning of October and mine has been chiefly residing in first one, and now both, of my eardrums. The walk-in doc seemed shocked that anybody, let alone a whole family (because I went ahead and complained about the whole crew) could be sick. Wondered if he knew where he was. We do all live in the cold northeast, right? Am I missing something? Colds that linger for weeks and weeks are one of the main defining characteristics of life up here, along with roads that get torn up in the winter and the desolate, resigned, Aldi shuffle. That’s where you shuffle around Aldi flinging stuff in your cart and feeling smug about how cheep it all is.

Two
In the way of desolation, feel really tragic that Simcha Fisher is going to the speaking In Syracuse, Tomorrow! A day when I shall strangely find myself in that same place, but not hearing her talk. Actually, I’ll probably be about half an hour away, but the distances feel too vast to overcome. It’s like driving from Binghamton to Endicott. It takes Twenty Minutes. Twenty minutes! That’s something you have to plan ahead for. Anyway, I’ll be watching two young people get married, which will be lovely, but also thinking about the fact that I am not gazing upon the hilarity of Simcha. On the other hand, not being Catholic, they might not have even have let me in.
Three
I’ve been meaning for some time to commend to you my new favorite cooking ingredient: Vodka. I see, of course, from wandering around the Internet, that everyone else knew this already. But, and this should be a comfort to you, I don’t have a lot of experience with this interesting and versatile spirit. If I’m in the way of drinking anything, it’s wine. Although, I should say, at the end of an exceptionally long and bad day, if you heat a little milk, and splash in a little splash of Cointreau, it’s not awful. You don’t even have to add sugar, which, as we all know, is very bad. Where was I? Oh yes. Usually when I’m shoving lots of vegetables into my Bigger Frying Pan, as I am wont to do, and maybe a pork chop, or some nice chicken or something, usually, before the heavy measure of cream, I splash in a modicum of wine. Or maybe brandy. But then one day, there was some vodka in the cupboard, and so I just flung that in instead. And let me just say, It Goes With Everything. If you need just that little something to bring mushrooms and zucchini and garlic and onion together in serendipity, just a splash of vodka and a slash of cream raises it to a level of delicious heretofore unknown to me.
Four
I’ve also landed on a little trick in the way of coping with spelling in our charming, cough, homeschool life. That was just a little joke. I’ve never used the word ‘charming’ next to the word ‘homeschool’ before and I think we can all see that it really doesn’t work. Where was I? Oh yes, getting children to spell is a beast, especially if you’re a bad speller yourself, as I am. You don’t have to rush in to agree. I’m sure we understand each other. Every new homeschool year I try out a new guaranteed never to fail spelling curriculum but have been always and forever disappointed. However, being now in the possession of the Perfect Spelling List and a Smart Phone, I have worked out an easy and simple solution. First, I write everybody’s lists on the board. Then, they practice the words. Then, I take a picture of the board. Then, I give four spelling tests in rapid fire, like this, “Gladys Boat, Romulus Their, Alouicious Behold, Elphine Desire”. I pause for breath and then go around again. Words they misspell go back up on the board and new ones after. The simple fact of being able to take a picture of the board, without having to copy it out myself, and lose the various bits of paper, is revolutionary.
Five
With the evil and life destroying time change, I’ve been able to stay awake through my usual bible listening time this week, instead of turning it on and going straight back to sleep. It’s been in time to hear about Samson, and Jephthah, and the idolatrous Micah, and finally the horrific slaughtering and abuse of the Levite’s concubine which launches the whole land of Israel into a civil war. The understated refrain, “there was no king in the land and the people did what was right in their own eyes” is easy, at first, to miss. But it is so often repeated, at the end of each new idolatrous horror, that finally the ear wakes up to it. The usual way of things is everybody doing “what is right” in their own eyes. Each person is determining their own moral worldview. Each individual is deciding what would be best for them. And the result is a total fracturing of the quiet order that was supposed to pervade and govern the land. Each person living quietly under his own vine, peacefully following the law of God, devolved into theft, adultery, idolatry, lying, abuse, murder, more theft, and more murder so that moral darkness completely covered over the land. And then the book ends. And the very next verse is Naomi and her husband and sons leaving Bethlehem because of famine. The landscape is heavy with grief and loss brought about by each individual pursuing his or her own set of values. Surely God must be angry. He will probably want to destroy them and start over. But what is his answer? As decadence, decay, and darkness prevail, another person is born into the line of the Savior. In the midst of incredible darkness, instead of the judgment that’s deserved, light is shed, a king is crowned, and the word of God comes into the mouth of a prophet.
Six
The individualism at the heart of the book of Judges is a gentle, if stark, warning to us in the west, who have been lied to a whole lot about everybody choosing their own path, their own gender identity, their own religious world view. It’s interesting how violence and anger are creeping in to our own moral landscape. Where each one is a king, or, a kind dressed up as a queen, there cannot be order and peace. My default is despair and wondering where God is and what he going to do about it. But he has already acted. He has already wrought the salvation of the world, of the individual, in his own blood. Imagining myself desolate, standing alone in a field, having lost everything, but having the saving work of God to grasp hold of, and then bringing even one person, like Ruth, is all I can do. I can’t save the system, or the world. It can only be the saving grace of the gospel, going out of the mouths of ordinary Christians, casting a dawning light of hope to those who are perishing.
Seven
Here is a picture of some teeth.

And my spelling Board.

And some flowers that made the long week less dismal.

Go check out This Ain’t the Lyceum. And have a lovely weekend!