Friday, February 16th, 2018
Have you ever tried to perform a simple task and just failed 100%? If you're anything like me, this is a common everyday experience. Whether it's simply opening the refrigerator or walking down to school while eating oatmeal out of a bowl, there's always a simple way to mess it up. Today though, I reached new heights previously thought unattainable.
It started off like any other disputatio. I plopped my bag down on the chair, and took out the black academic robe that you're required to wear at our end-of-the-week gathering. Rachel, Ben, and Mandy were in the row behind me, and as I put one arm through the freely flowing folds of the first sleeve, I began talking with them about something or other. As I continued to talk, I twisted the rest of the robe around my back and grabbed it as best I could with my other arm. (Remember, this whole time I'm trying to keep up a conversation.) But the sleeve for my left arm was nowhere to be found. Somehow it got lost in the twistyness of the robe. By and by though I found the hole and got my arm through it... but then Rachel laughed and I realized that something was wrong, both by her verbal cue and by the sudden realization that my robe was now thoroughly convorted in some convoluted labyrinth of a spider web that my arm was now trapped in. Something was basically wrong. I tried to extract my arm from this tricky trap, and after several seconds of flopping my arm around like a freshly caught salmon on the deck of a boat, I finally freed my arm from the bonds of confinement. Now it wasn't just Rachel laughing, but Ben and Mandy too. At times like these it's often best to just restart from scratch, so I cast off my chains and took another swing at it. This ended arguably worse than my first attempt, for I couldn't even get my first arm in. Thankfully Benjamin, who was standing to the right of me, had my six and prevented me from further consternation by holding my robe for me as I put it on. We all had a good laugh and at last I took to my seat, feeling only slightly conspicuous.
So there we have it. I don't know why it gave me so much trouble this week. Perhaps had I thought to untangle my robe after it'd been bounced about in my bag all day it'd've turned out all right. Or maybe it's the fact that I evidently can't multi-task very well. I'm still not quite sure. Either way, what's done is done and there's nothing left to do about it except look back and chuckle. Or laugh. That's how my Friday went, and boy I tell ya, life's never boring!
Friday, February 16, 2018
Monday, February 5, 2018
Lake Fun
Sunday, February 4th, 2018
Sometimes I make flash decisions. This was evidenced by the fact that the 2:20 clock in my truck stared me down as I drove north out of town. With Moscow in the rearview mirror, I headed off to Couer D'Alene to catch the last several hours of a weekend trip that several friends of mine were on; oh, and tonight was also a surprise party for Hannah and Rachel. Anyways, it was just me and the road all the way up, and it was actually kind of nice to get a solid chunk of time to myself for once. Good for the rumination as they say.
At any rate, I arrived just as they were considering launching the canoes and going out for some lake-fun. My advent only hastened the decision, and there was a flurry of scurrying as we all set about to prepare. I changed into a pair of swimming trunks I keep in my truck for just such occasions as these, and soon we were off. Brooke, Caleb, and Darcey took one canoe, Rachel, Hannah and I another, while Benjamin hopped on the little inflatable kayak. The rest of the peoples started walking along the shoreline, and we set off in our watercraft. It was quite the enjoyable ride; it's been a long time since I've been out on the water, and a long time since I've swum too! Heh heh, as soon as the idea of canoeing came up I knew I'd get a chance to swim some, so I's very excited for that. But the ice on the edge of the lake and scattered snow along the shoreline, along with the chilliness of the water, convinced me to wait at least until we were on the way back before I jumped in.
By and by we came to a quaint little island, and we all disembarked to poke around a bit. There was a nice little fire ring and cool rocks and stones, but most surprising of all was some droppings I found. It was either raccoon or rabbit, both equally shocking. Evidently there was an overly-zealous-swimming raccoon out there with a beef to prove and the muscle to back it up, or there was a miniscule population of bunnies inhabiting the island. I didn't know what to think and was somewhat dumbfounded. Anyways, Benjamin and Brooke started skipping rocks, Darcey found a cool spot on the other side of the island to sit and watch the water and horizon, and the others were poking around a big metal thingy that got washed up or something, not quite sure what it was. We all walked around and joked and laughed and explored, just generally having a good time. I floated between groups, now here, now there, just enjoying myself. I waited for the perfect time, which came pretty soon surprisingly enough, to disappear by myself and melt into the underbrush and trees unnoticed. It was perfect, nobody noticed. Then I snuck back to the canoes to work my mischief. Heh heh. I tied the short bowline of one canoe to one of the paddles, then hopped in the other one and held onto the one paddle with my leg whilst paddling with a different paddle. Thus I took both the canoes and left everybody marooned on the island, except I left behind the inflatable kayak just to be nice. (actually I left it behind in the hopes that they'd try to fit two people on it when they finally noticed, and hopefully flip over and fall into the water. That'd be fun. But I digress.)
The group of people on the mainland were scattered around inspecting all the cool things as I paddled up with the canoes, and then oh what mischievous cackling laughter was heard there! Charli thought it was a grand prank and would be hilarious, and so did all the others. After we'd had a good laugh and chuckle about it, I showed several people the 'thread the needle' game, where you grab two rocks, throw the first one up in a wide arch, known as the thread, and then with the second rock, the needle, you try to hit the first rock before it lands; thus, threading the needle. A few of us spent not a few minutes on the rocky shoreline trying to accomplish this feat. I think the only one to actually do it was Abigail, though several people came close.
Out of the corner of my eye, I spotted Ruth and Heather getting into one canoe. It didn't look like they were planning on going anywhere, but were just wanting to sit down. They hadn't even looked around for paddles yet and had only just sat down by the time I got over there. A loud scream erupted from the two of them the moment I shoved them out into the water. Evidently neither was expecting it in the least, and there was quite the tumultuous uproar. Ruth then exclaimed, "All people with plant names are evil!" To which Heather just stared at her blankly... When they finally got fixed right and paddled back toward shore Ruth called out, "You better let us land, Leaf!" I waded out and pretended to push them out again, then returned to my spot on the shore, just as Kat and Emily walked up. Then all of a sudden Heather's feet touched ground and she was off like a rocket to get away from the water, for she had a great desire to be as far away from it as possible. In her haste to disembark (not sure if this was intentional or not, it really could go either way honestly), she got such a speed going that as she thundered by she knocked me back a couple feet and I knocked into Kat, who almost knocked into somebody else. Nobody was toppled, though there was some confusion as to why I was knocking into everybody; somehow they'd failed to notice Heather's blitz from the canoe. Still wondering how that's possible, but let's just roll with it.
After several more minutes, Hannah over on the island finally noticed what I'd done and called out in surprise. She was soon joined by Rachel, and together the two of them worked together and launched Rachel safely off in the kayak to come over to the mainland. As she made her way across, the rest of the islanders gathered and watched and tried to figure out what to do. By the time Rachel was three quarters of the way over, Benjamin had already tooken it upon himself to wade over and fetch one of the canoes himself. He was about a third of the way across when I decided to go out and meet him in the canoe, and I even took out the boots and towel and other dry commodities before going out, just in case Benjamin tried any shenanigans to get even. I hopped in and paddled off, meeting Ben in the center. The water was almost up to his neck now. I paddled up to him and we said a couple words, not much. It wasn't a very shocking conversation, more of like an everyday one if you get what I mean. He had a look of determination on his face though, and just kept plodding on to other shore. All at once, a shout and then a chant erupted from the crowd on the mainland, "Tip him! Tip him! Tip him!" They wanted to see me get my just deserts I guess! I laughed to myself. Benjamin paid no heed and just kept plodding on, and I turned around back to the island where three of them got on and made for the mainland, leaving me and Darcey still stuck on the island. Soon enough Benjamin came back with the other one and we were off.
Realizing now was my opportunity, I jumped in the water for a nice relaxing swim back to shore. The first little way I held onto the canoe and let them drag me, but I slowed them down too much so I just started swimming toward shore myself. The water was nice and cold, and I realized this fact more and more as I continued on. My feet felt like solid blocks of ice, both in terms of temperature and sensitivity: the only thing my nervous system told me about my foot region was that there was a slight sensation of cold, that's it. "Toes? Joints? What are those?" my nervous system asked. I carried on. My, what a wonderful day! The water was crisp and lively as it jogged up memories of times past spent swimming. Ah, what a glorious thing swimming is. Can we take just a moment to appreciate it? It's amazing, it really is. Gravity has less power, limbs move about with absolutely zero impact, and air-breathing land-dwellers seemingly defy natural law by living, even just for a moment, in the aquatic realm. Take joy in it. Don't take it for granted. Swimming is a wonderful thing; it's a good way to reflect upon the actual physical world, to observe how the world works real-time. If you don't swim, you sink. Heh, oddly enough that sounds just like how life works too. We often forget God's handiwork in all the awesome intricacies of this incredible world of ours, but swimming in a lake, or any body of water for that matter, never fails to re-instill in me the awesome wonder of this creation. Beautiful, isn't it?
Anyways, I swam toward the mainland, and took a quick drink along the way. Perfectly crisp, cool, and refreshing. Ohhh yeaah. Soon enough I made it, just in time to give the second canoe (with Charli, Emily, Kat, and Mandy in it if my memory serves me right) a good push to send them on their way with celerity. Then I clambered onto shore where Brooke and Caleb were still waiting for me, the others having already gone on. Now that I was back on land I realized I was indeed a little cold, and as I put my shirt on I started low-key laughing to myself. The reason was because my body was so cold I couldn't feel anything; I could see my arms and hands, but not feel, and, weirdest of all and the source of my laughter, I could see myself putting on the shirt but not feel it on my back. Like, not even a bit. IT WAS SO WEIRD. It felt like what I'd imagine a robot-man would feel if he tried to don a shirt on his cold steel-plated back; no feeling at all, just movement. Anyways, I laughed, put on my other shirt, and Brooke even gave me her jacket as well. That was nice of her, and I appreciated the warmth it gave me.
With that we trudged along the shoreline. Thankfully I was still cold enough I couldn't feel any pain from my knee (which still hasn't fully healed and has been giving me nothing but grief all this past week) since it was still too cold, but my feet could now feel the rocks at least that frequented the shoreline. Anyways, Caleb and I spotted a cool little trolley thing alongside one of the big three-story houses that brings people up and down the hill without requiring them to so much as lift a foot. That was a pretty fancy contraption, and he stopped to look at it a bit, but I kept on going, for I knew if I stopped my feet would groan when we started back again.
Later on, all now changed into dry, warm, and comfy clothes, we set to. Heather and others got dinner going while the most of us loafed about in the livingroom, and eventually somebody broke out the guitar and started singing. It was Kat, Charli, and Hannah. Their voices complemented each other's quite nicely, filling the room with a sweet, not-overpowering charm of a music that made one lose all sense of time and forget what you had been up to. But then, they started a song that I knew. I hopped over to where they were so I could read the lyrics and sing along. It was the 'radioactive' song. With as much well-intentioned and unskilled gusto as I could possibly muster, I broke out into song like a cannonball through a stained-glass window. Cries of dismay broke out from all quarters, "Aghh, make it stop! Arghh!!" Now I broke into laughter, but tried to continue on nonetheless. Finally I toned it down and just sang like a normal person, and it was somewhat tolerable.
Eventually we ate dinner, an awesome potato soup thingy with bread and chips on the side, and then all stood around the counter-top island or table and talked about various things. All at once, Ruth rushed into the kitchen with a loud cry and shout, getting everybody's attention, and exclaimed, "Alright guys, we've got an announcement to make. This just so happens to be a surprise party for Hannah and Rachel who both have birthdays really soon!" A chirpy, 'woop woop woop' issued forth from the crowd and we all cheered. Hannah was pleased, but there wasn't a Rachel in sight. Every breath bellowed out, "Rachel! Rachel!" along with other cries such as, "Adveni ad nos!" or, "O Rachel where art thou!?" Soon enough she came and together Hannah and Rachel each blew out the candles on their respective gallons of icecream, which we in short order devoured with many a fancy topping. As we were eating away, I noticed that Rachel, standing next to me, was standing with one leg kind of crooked up on the other, leaving most of her weight resting on the other leg. Christy was on the other side of Rachel, eating her icecream as well. I asked, "Rachel, have you ever gone up behind someone and gone like [hand motion] to their leg?" She half turned to me and replied, "Ha, actually I do that to people all the time." No sooner had the words left her mouth then Christy bopped behind her knee and got her good. Rachel managed to not fall over completely, but she done got got! It was perfect.
Later on somebody started playing a song on the speaker, and Brooke and I both thought it was 'Turn Down For What' at first, and we both prepared to launch into full-on dance-out mode. Sadly though it was a different song with a similar sounding beginning. Our crestfallen countenances were enough to make the dj switch to that song though, and then we were ready. I prepared to come in on the beat, and then... "Turn down for what! badeshh!!" We hit it on point. We continued to dance off to it, breaking out our most boppable moves and just owning it. Soon everybody was watching and laughing, and then that turned into an all-out dance party with almost everybody joining in. It was complete with jumping up and down, spinning around, arm motions, head bops, and so forth. Completely amazing.
All good things come to an end at some point, and around eight o'clock we all got our stuff together to go. Rachel and Mandy rode with me back to Moscow since the ride they'd caught on the way up had left the day before. Rachel promptly fell asleep in the back, and Mandy and I had a fun conversation about planes, people, and houses, and soon enough we were back in town. As far as I can remember, that's the best superbowl Sunday I've ever had. 10/10 would recommend.
Sometimes I make flash decisions. This was evidenced by the fact that the 2:20 clock in my truck stared me down as I drove north out of town. With Moscow in the rearview mirror, I headed off to Couer D'Alene to catch the last several hours of a weekend trip that several friends of mine were on; oh, and tonight was also a surprise party for Hannah and Rachel. Anyways, it was just me and the road all the way up, and it was actually kind of nice to get a solid chunk of time to myself for once. Good for the rumination as they say.
At any rate, I arrived just as they were considering launching the canoes and going out for some lake-fun. My advent only hastened the decision, and there was a flurry of scurrying as we all set about to prepare. I changed into a pair of swimming trunks I keep in my truck for just such occasions as these, and soon we were off. Brooke, Caleb, and Darcey took one canoe, Rachel, Hannah and I another, while Benjamin hopped on the little inflatable kayak. The rest of the peoples started walking along the shoreline, and we set off in our watercraft. It was quite the enjoyable ride; it's been a long time since I've been out on the water, and a long time since I've swum too! Heh heh, as soon as the idea of canoeing came up I knew I'd get a chance to swim some, so I's very excited for that. But the ice on the edge of the lake and scattered snow along the shoreline, along with the chilliness of the water, convinced me to wait at least until we were on the way back before I jumped in.
By and by we came to a quaint little island, and we all disembarked to poke around a bit. There was a nice little fire ring and cool rocks and stones, but most surprising of all was some droppings I found. It was either raccoon or rabbit, both equally shocking. Evidently there was an overly-zealous-swimming raccoon out there with a beef to prove and the muscle to back it up, or there was a miniscule population of bunnies inhabiting the island. I didn't know what to think and was somewhat dumbfounded. Anyways, Benjamin and Brooke started skipping rocks, Darcey found a cool spot on the other side of the island to sit and watch the water and horizon, and the others were poking around a big metal thingy that got washed up or something, not quite sure what it was. We all walked around and joked and laughed and explored, just generally having a good time. I floated between groups, now here, now there, just enjoying myself. I waited for the perfect time, which came pretty soon surprisingly enough, to disappear by myself and melt into the underbrush and trees unnoticed. It was perfect, nobody noticed. Then I snuck back to the canoes to work my mischief. Heh heh. I tied the short bowline of one canoe to one of the paddles, then hopped in the other one and held onto the one paddle with my leg whilst paddling with a different paddle. Thus I took both the canoes and left everybody marooned on the island, except I left behind the inflatable kayak just to be nice. (actually I left it behind in the hopes that they'd try to fit two people on it when they finally noticed, and hopefully flip over and fall into the water. That'd be fun. But I digress.)
The group of people on the mainland were scattered around inspecting all the cool things as I paddled up with the canoes, and then oh what mischievous cackling laughter was heard there! Charli thought it was a grand prank and would be hilarious, and so did all the others. After we'd had a good laugh and chuckle about it, I showed several people the 'thread the needle' game, where you grab two rocks, throw the first one up in a wide arch, known as the thread, and then with the second rock, the needle, you try to hit the first rock before it lands; thus, threading the needle. A few of us spent not a few minutes on the rocky shoreline trying to accomplish this feat. I think the only one to actually do it was Abigail, though several people came close.
Out of the corner of my eye, I spotted Ruth and Heather getting into one canoe. It didn't look like they were planning on going anywhere, but were just wanting to sit down. They hadn't even looked around for paddles yet and had only just sat down by the time I got over there. A loud scream erupted from the two of them the moment I shoved them out into the water. Evidently neither was expecting it in the least, and there was quite the tumultuous uproar. Ruth then exclaimed, "All people with plant names are evil!" To which Heather just stared at her blankly... When they finally got fixed right and paddled back toward shore Ruth called out, "You better let us land, Leaf!" I waded out and pretended to push them out again, then returned to my spot on the shore, just as Kat and Emily walked up. Then all of a sudden Heather's feet touched ground and she was off like a rocket to get away from the water, for she had a great desire to be as far away from it as possible. In her haste to disembark (not sure if this was intentional or not, it really could go either way honestly), she got such a speed going that as she thundered by she knocked me back a couple feet and I knocked into Kat, who almost knocked into somebody else. Nobody was toppled, though there was some confusion as to why I was knocking into everybody; somehow they'd failed to notice Heather's blitz from the canoe. Still wondering how that's possible, but let's just roll with it.
After several more minutes, Hannah over on the island finally noticed what I'd done and called out in surprise. She was soon joined by Rachel, and together the two of them worked together and launched Rachel safely off in the kayak to come over to the mainland. As she made her way across, the rest of the islanders gathered and watched and tried to figure out what to do. By the time Rachel was three quarters of the way over, Benjamin had already tooken it upon himself to wade over and fetch one of the canoes himself. He was about a third of the way across when I decided to go out and meet him in the canoe, and I even took out the boots and towel and other dry commodities before going out, just in case Benjamin tried any shenanigans to get even. I hopped in and paddled off, meeting Ben in the center. The water was almost up to his neck now. I paddled up to him and we said a couple words, not much. It wasn't a very shocking conversation, more of like an everyday one if you get what I mean. He had a look of determination on his face though, and just kept plodding on to other shore. All at once, a shout and then a chant erupted from the crowd on the mainland, "Tip him! Tip him! Tip him!" They wanted to see me get my just deserts I guess! I laughed to myself. Benjamin paid no heed and just kept plodding on, and I turned around back to the island where three of them got on and made for the mainland, leaving me and Darcey still stuck on the island. Soon enough Benjamin came back with the other one and we were off.
Realizing now was my opportunity, I jumped in the water for a nice relaxing swim back to shore. The first little way I held onto the canoe and let them drag me, but I slowed them down too much so I just started swimming toward shore myself. The water was nice and cold, and I realized this fact more and more as I continued on. My feet felt like solid blocks of ice, both in terms of temperature and sensitivity: the only thing my nervous system told me about my foot region was that there was a slight sensation of cold, that's it. "Toes? Joints? What are those?" my nervous system asked. I carried on. My, what a wonderful day! The water was crisp and lively as it jogged up memories of times past spent swimming. Ah, what a glorious thing swimming is. Can we take just a moment to appreciate it? It's amazing, it really is. Gravity has less power, limbs move about with absolutely zero impact, and air-breathing land-dwellers seemingly defy natural law by living, even just for a moment, in the aquatic realm. Take joy in it. Don't take it for granted. Swimming is a wonderful thing; it's a good way to reflect upon the actual physical world, to observe how the world works real-time. If you don't swim, you sink. Heh, oddly enough that sounds just like how life works too. We often forget God's handiwork in all the awesome intricacies of this incredible world of ours, but swimming in a lake, or any body of water for that matter, never fails to re-instill in me the awesome wonder of this creation. Beautiful, isn't it?
Anyways, I swam toward the mainland, and took a quick drink along the way. Perfectly crisp, cool, and refreshing. Ohhh yeaah. Soon enough I made it, just in time to give the second canoe (with Charli, Emily, Kat, and Mandy in it if my memory serves me right) a good push to send them on their way with celerity. Then I clambered onto shore where Brooke and Caleb were still waiting for me, the others having already gone on. Now that I was back on land I realized I was indeed a little cold, and as I put my shirt on I started low-key laughing to myself. The reason was because my body was so cold I couldn't feel anything; I could see my arms and hands, but not feel, and, weirdest of all and the source of my laughter, I could see myself putting on the shirt but not feel it on my back. Like, not even a bit. IT WAS SO WEIRD. It felt like what I'd imagine a robot-man would feel if he tried to don a shirt on his cold steel-plated back; no feeling at all, just movement. Anyways, I laughed, put on my other shirt, and Brooke even gave me her jacket as well. That was nice of her, and I appreciated the warmth it gave me.
With that we trudged along the shoreline. Thankfully I was still cold enough I couldn't feel any pain from my knee (which still hasn't fully healed and has been giving me nothing but grief all this past week) since it was still too cold, but my feet could now feel the rocks at least that frequented the shoreline. Anyways, Caleb and I spotted a cool little trolley thing alongside one of the big three-story houses that brings people up and down the hill without requiring them to so much as lift a foot. That was a pretty fancy contraption, and he stopped to look at it a bit, but I kept on going, for I knew if I stopped my feet would groan when we started back again.
Later on, all now changed into dry, warm, and comfy clothes, we set to. Heather and others got dinner going while the most of us loafed about in the livingroom, and eventually somebody broke out the guitar and started singing. It was Kat, Charli, and Hannah. Their voices complemented each other's quite nicely, filling the room with a sweet, not-overpowering charm of a music that made one lose all sense of time and forget what you had been up to. But then, they started a song that I knew. I hopped over to where they were so I could read the lyrics and sing along. It was the 'radioactive' song. With as much well-intentioned and unskilled gusto as I could possibly muster, I broke out into song like a cannonball through a stained-glass window. Cries of dismay broke out from all quarters, "Aghh, make it stop! Arghh!!" Now I broke into laughter, but tried to continue on nonetheless. Finally I toned it down and just sang like a normal person, and it was somewhat tolerable.
Eventually we ate dinner, an awesome potato soup thingy with bread and chips on the side, and then all stood around the counter-top island or table and talked about various things. All at once, Ruth rushed into the kitchen with a loud cry and shout, getting everybody's attention, and exclaimed, "Alright guys, we've got an announcement to make. This just so happens to be a surprise party for Hannah and Rachel who both have birthdays really soon!" A chirpy, 'woop woop woop' issued forth from the crowd and we all cheered. Hannah was pleased, but there wasn't a Rachel in sight. Every breath bellowed out, "Rachel! Rachel!" along with other cries such as, "Adveni ad nos!" or, "O Rachel where art thou!?" Soon enough she came and together Hannah and Rachel each blew out the candles on their respective gallons of icecream, which we in short order devoured with many a fancy topping. As we were eating away, I noticed that Rachel, standing next to me, was standing with one leg kind of crooked up on the other, leaving most of her weight resting on the other leg. Christy was on the other side of Rachel, eating her icecream as well. I asked, "Rachel, have you ever gone up behind someone and gone like [hand motion] to their leg?" She half turned to me and replied, "Ha, actually I do that to people all the time." No sooner had the words left her mouth then Christy bopped behind her knee and got her good. Rachel managed to not fall over completely, but she done got got! It was perfect.
Later on somebody started playing a song on the speaker, and Brooke and I both thought it was 'Turn Down For What' at first, and we both prepared to launch into full-on dance-out mode. Sadly though it was a different song with a similar sounding beginning. Our crestfallen countenances were enough to make the dj switch to that song though, and then we were ready. I prepared to come in on the beat, and then... "Turn down for what! badeshh!!" We hit it on point. We continued to dance off to it, breaking out our most boppable moves and just owning it. Soon everybody was watching and laughing, and then that turned into an all-out dance party with almost everybody joining in. It was complete with jumping up and down, spinning around, arm motions, head bops, and so forth. Completely amazing.
All good things come to an end at some point, and around eight o'clock we all got our stuff together to go. Rachel and Mandy rode with me back to Moscow since the ride they'd caught on the way up had left the day before. Rachel promptly fell asleep in the back, and Mandy and I had a fun conversation about planes, people, and houses, and soon enough we were back in town. As far as I can remember, that's the best superbowl Sunday I've ever had. 10/10 would recommend.
Wednesday, January 31, 2018
The Nice Ice Hike
Monday, January 29th, 2018
Naturally, since there was plenty to do on Monday to prepare for class, we all decided it'd be a great idea to go on a hike. And so we did. Isaac and I carpooled down to Brooke and Anna's house, getting there at the same time as Benjamin, and we went inside where Sara, Brooke's friend from Spokane, was all set and ready to go. Soon Brooke and Anna were ready as well, and then we made a quick decision as to where we should go on our hike. Now, most people would have had figured this out the night before like sensible people, but, being the people we are, we just rolled with it.
Soon we had a two-car convoy heading north out of town. After the hike Sara would drive off to Spokane for her classes and the five of us would all go back to Moscow in Brooke's car. Soon enough we arrived at Kamiak Butte. The cool, crisp morning air alivened our metabolisms and spurred us on to good and noble thoughts. We got on the trail and walked. Now, hiking up a fun new trail with five other people is always a delight. If one has ever been so fortunate as to have experienced this or something like it before, you'll know what I'm talking about. At first everybody stays in a clump and all laugh and joke together, and then as the path twists and winds ever upward, people break into smaller clusters and talk amongst themselves. Let's jump into a few hiking stereotypes now.
1. The Joker. This is the guy who makes a joke or funny insult and tells it loud enough so that everybody in the line of hikers can hear it. Never forget to bring along one of these guys.
2. The Aww-Look-At-That-Pretty-View Guy. This person stops at every rock outcropping and overlook to take in the scenery and revel in the beauty of the hike. They'll notice cool things and stop a minute to inspect it some. Without this person, you'll miss lots of the natural beauty along the way.
3. The Let's-Get-There-ASAP Guy. This person strikes off at a lively gait and doesn't stop and wait for anyone who pauses to look at something. Usually when they're about at least a half-football length ahead of you they'll holler for the rest the hurry up. This is also the guy who makes sure everybody finishes the hike on time so you can get to class later that day.
4. The Lagger. This guy likes to go at a leisurely pace and isn't in a hurry. They usually end up at the rear of the group and routinely get left behind, prompting periodical times of sprinting to catch up. The fast overly-zealous people at the front secretly like having a Lagger in the group so they can take a good breather while they wait for them to catch up.
5. The Converser. This is the guy who tries to make sure to have at least a ten minute conversation with everybody in the group before the hike ends. Something about the fresh air makes them wax philosophical, and they really make the distance go by quickly as you forget about the walking while you're going along with him and talking. Would definitely recommend having one of these guys along, especially on a long hike.
6. The Squirrel. This person gets distracted rather easily and runs off into the bushes at the first sight of some fun log, clump of moss, or patch of snow. They can never decide where in the line of hikers they should be and what conversation, if any, they should be a part of, and constantly run forward and back between all the people. Though slightly annoying, they always try to make sure everybody has fun along the way.
By and by we made it to the ridge and looked out across the palouse. It was rather pretty, though somewhat overcast. We continued along the ridge till we got to the other end where we started our descent along the now-narrow path. This side of the ridge had much thicker ice patches, which forced us to slow down and tread carefully lest we slip and break a hip or something. The ice also, heh heh, afforded me some little reprieve from the lack of winter-weather-fun. There was this particular stretch of solid ice longer than the rest, where partway down was a rock embedded in the path. This rock covered the width of the trail and had no ice on it, but beyond the rock the ice continued on for another ten feet or so before it came to another similar rock, except on the other side of this one was an eighteen-inch drop and then the slick icy patch carried on for another thirty odd feet or so. It was one long icy boi.
So I got a good running start and got some good speed sliding on the ice right off the bat. It seemed to me I picked up a little more speed as I went down the slight incline, and as I approached the first rock I prepared to jump. Since there was no ice on the rock I'd need to jump it in order to keep going, for stopping wasn't an option at this point and not-jumping would surely send me sprawling out on the path ahead. I cleared the first rock, jumped over the second rock, and landed on the ice below and kept on sliding. It went perfectly without a hitch! It was so much fun I decided to run up and do it again.
On the second go, things got interesting. I sloppily cleared the first rock, but didn't have time to regain my footing before the second one, and my attempt at jumping over that one ended up with me falling really hard on the far side of the rock. My right knee took the brunt of it as I continued to fall onto the ice below the rock on the other side. As I rolled toward the edge of the trail and started to go over, I nervously glanced at my jeans where my knee should have been: Yes, it was just as I feared; there was a hole. Not in my knee, only blood there, but a hole in my jeans. This was a good pair I'd only a few months back had repaired! Ughh. I grabbed a bush on my way down the hillside, checking my fall having only gone off the trail maybe a yard or so. As I got to my feet, the pain started to kick in. Once I was back on the trail again, I leaned against something and rested my leg for a second. Oh boy, this was going to be fun alright.
After that I continued on with a good limp, being sure to be extra cautious and slow on the ice. No more fun and games for me. A little further on, Sara slipped and twisted her ankle, and so now there were two fairly disabled people in the group. Isaac and Benjamin each took a shoulder as they helped her along, and so we continued on. There was still a little slipping and sliding, but we helped catch each other from our imminent falls and nobody else got hurt. Eventually Benjamin ran on ahead and scouted it out to see how much further it was, and Sara's ankle started to feel a little better and she could walk slowly by herself.
A good bit further on, we eventually made it to the second parking lot, where Benjamin met us with one of the cars that was originally parked in the lower lot. We piled in, and it was then that I found out that bending my knee into a sitting position was really quite painful. Anna hopped in the back of Brooke's car so I could have room to sit without bending my knee at all. The two other girls sat up front while Isaac and Ben rode on the bumper down to the lower parking lot.
And so it was we all hobbled back to Moscow. Issac and Anna may have missed their Spencer class and Sara her whole first day of classes, but we sure did have a good adventure along the way. Enjoy it as it comes I always say. Later that day found me laying on our comfy orange couch, buried chin-deep in warm blankets with my leg elevated and two pillows at my back, reading Bede's Ecclesiastical History. I sure am blessed to live such a life; despite hurting my knee and making it slow to amble around, I can still get work done and succeed in my calling, which, at this point of my life, is school. Not everyone gets to attend such a wonderful college; it really is a wonderful thing to be thankful for.
Not long after that my eyes grew quite heavy, my Bede slipped to the floor, and sleep encompassed me as I drifted off for what would become a three hour nap. What a glorious day.
Naturally, since there was plenty to do on Monday to prepare for class, we all decided it'd be a great idea to go on a hike. And so we did. Isaac and I carpooled down to Brooke and Anna's house, getting there at the same time as Benjamin, and we went inside where Sara, Brooke's friend from Spokane, was all set and ready to go. Soon Brooke and Anna were ready as well, and then we made a quick decision as to where we should go on our hike. Now, most people would have had figured this out the night before like sensible people, but, being the people we are, we just rolled with it.
Soon we had a two-car convoy heading north out of town. After the hike Sara would drive off to Spokane for her classes and the five of us would all go back to Moscow in Brooke's car. Soon enough we arrived at Kamiak Butte. The cool, crisp morning air alivened our metabolisms and spurred us on to good and noble thoughts. We got on the trail and walked. Now, hiking up a fun new trail with five other people is always a delight. If one has ever been so fortunate as to have experienced this or something like it before, you'll know what I'm talking about. At first everybody stays in a clump and all laugh and joke together, and then as the path twists and winds ever upward, people break into smaller clusters and talk amongst themselves. Let's jump into a few hiking stereotypes now.
1. The Joker. This is the guy who makes a joke or funny insult and tells it loud enough so that everybody in the line of hikers can hear it. Never forget to bring along one of these guys.
2. The Aww-Look-At-That-Pretty-View Guy. This person stops at every rock outcropping and overlook to take in the scenery and revel in the beauty of the hike. They'll notice cool things and stop a minute to inspect it some. Without this person, you'll miss lots of the natural beauty along the way.
3. The Let's-Get-There-ASAP Guy. This person strikes off at a lively gait and doesn't stop and wait for anyone who pauses to look at something. Usually when they're about at least a half-football length ahead of you they'll holler for the rest the hurry up. This is also the guy who makes sure everybody finishes the hike on time so you can get to class later that day.
4. The Lagger. This guy likes to go at a leisurely pace and isn't in a hurry. They usually end up at the rear of the group and routinely get left behind, prompting periodical times of sprinting to catch up. The fast overly-zealous people at the front secretly like having a Lagger in the group so they can take a good breather while they wait for them to catch up.
5. The Converser. This is the guy who tries to make sure to have at least a ten minute conversation with everybody in the group before the hike ends. Something about the fresh air makes them wax philosophical, and they really make the distance go by quickly as you forget about the walking while you're going along with him and talking. Would definitely recommend having one of these guys along, especially on a long hike.
6. The Squirrel. This person gets distracted rather easily and runs off into the bushes at the first sight of some fun log, clump of moss, or patch of snow. They can never decide where in the line of hikers they should be and what conversation, if any, they should be a part of, and constantly run forward and back between all the people. Though slightly annoying, they always try to make sure everybody has fun along the way.
By and by we made it to the ridge and looked out across the palouse. It was rather pretty, though somewhat overcast. We continued along the ridge till we got to the other end where we started our descent along the now-narrow path. This side of the ridge had much thicker ice patches, which forced us to slow down and tread carefully lest we slip and break a hip or something. The ice also, heh heh, afforded me some little reprieve from the lack of winter-weather-fun. There was this particular stretch of solid ice longer than the rest, where partway down was a rock embedded in the path. This rock covered the width of the trail and had no ice on it, but beyond the rock the ice continued on for another ten feet or so before it came to another similar rock, except on the other side of this one was an eighteen-inch drop and then the slick icy patch carried on for another thirty odd feet or so. It was one long icy boi.
So I got a good running start and got some good speed sliding on the ice right off the bat. It seemed to me I picked up a little more speed as I went down the slight incline, and as I approached the first rock I prepared to jump. Since there was no ice on the rock I'd need to jump it in order to keep going, for stopping wasn't an option at this point and not-jumping would surely send me sprawling out on the path ahead. I cleared the first rock, jumped over the second rock, and landed on the ice below and kept on sliding. It went perfectly without a hitch! It was so much fun I decided to run up and do it again.
On the second go, things got interesting. I sloppily cleared the first rock, but didn't have time to regain my footing before the second one, and my attempt at jumping over that one ended up with me falling really hard on the far side of the rock. My right knee took the brunt of it as I continued to fall onto the ice below the rock on the other side. As I rolled toward the edge of the trail and started to go over, I nervously glanced at my jeans where my knee should have been: Yes, it was just as I feared; there was a hole. Not in my knee, only blood there, but a hole in my jeans. This was a good pair I'd only a few months back had repaired! Ughh. I grabbed a bush on my way down the hillside, checking my fall having only gone off the trail maybe a yard or so. As I got to my feet, the pain started to kick in. Once I was back on the trail again, I leaned against something and rested my leg for a second. Oh boy, this was going to be fun alright.
After that I continued on with a good limp, being sure to be extra cautious and slow on the ice. No more fun and games for me. A little further on, Sara slipped and twisted her ankle, and so now there were two fairly disabled people in the group. Isaac and Benjamin each took a shoulder as they helped her along, and so we continued on. There was still a little slipping and sliding, but we helped catch each other from our imminent falls and nobody else got hurt. Eventually Benjamin ran on ahead and scouted it out to see how much further it was, and Sara's ankle started to feel a little better and she could walk slowly by herself.
A good bit further on, we eventually made it to the second parking lot, where Benjamin met us with one of the cars that was originally parked in the lower lot. We piled in, and it was then that I found out that bending my knee into a sitting position was really quite painful. Anna hopped in the back of Brooke's car so I could have room to sit without bending my knee at all. The two other girls sat up front while Isaac and Ben rode on the bumper down to the lower parking lot.
And so it was we all hobbled back to Moscow. Issac and Anna may have missed their Spencer class and Sara her whole first day of classes, but we sure did have a good adventure along the way. Enjoy it as it comes I always say. Later that day found me laying on our comfy orange couch, buried chin-deep in warm blankets with my leg elevated and two pillows at my back, reading Bede's Ecclesiastical History. I sure am blessed to live such a life; despite hurting my knee and making it slow to amble around, I can still get work done and succeed in my calling, which, at this point of my life, is school. Not everyone gets to attend such a wonderful college; it really is a wonderful thing to be thankful for.
Not long after that my eyes grew quite heavy, my Bede slipped to the floor, and sleep encompassed me as I drifted off for what would become a three hour nap. What a glorious day.
Friday, January 19, 2018
Excuses
[Notice: this post has almost nothing of substance within to read and is all just me merely talking about writing and not actually writing... if that makes sense. At any rate, there's nothing remotely interesting here, so I wouldn't blame you at all for not reading this.]
But let's crack on with it anyways.
Wow. I know it's kinda cliche to say, but my life has been so busy lately, with hardly any time for writing. Then when I finally do have time, I can't find the will to write, and when I have both of these, I sometimes can't figure out what I should write in the first place. And then I'll finally write something, but only half finish it and leave it as a draft and never publish it and never come back to finish it. Hahae, it's a vicious cycle! Oh well. Nothing to do but mush on I suppose. Perhaps as I catch up on my reading and get school matters more under control I'll be able to pick back up and write more, but for now there will probably be a much slower pace of writing. But who knows, we'll see. If there's one thing I've learned, it's that life is like a pitch: you never know if it'll be a curve-ball.
But let's crack on with it anyways.
Wow. I know it's kinda cliche to say, but my life has been so busy lately, with hardly any time for writing. Then when I finally do have time, I can't find the will to write, and when I have both of these, I sometimes can't figure out what I should write in the first place. And then I'll finally write something, but only half finish it and leave it as a draft and never publish it and never come back to finish it. Hahae, it's a vicious cycle! Oh well. Nothing to do but mush on I suppose. Perhaps as I catch up on my reading and get school matters more under control I'll be able to pick back up and write more, but for now there will probably be a much slower pace of writing. But who knows, we'll see. If there's one thing I've learned, it's that life is like a pitch: you never know if it'll be a curve-ball.
Wednesday, January 17, 2018
Carnage At The Warehouse
Loud noises. Screaming. People running. A velociraptor jumped and pulled down his prey. People kept running. Shots rang out, buildings burned, terror on every side. There was nothing I could do but run. I turned a corner and saw a barricade, hope swelled up in me, maybe I could make it. Sprinting across the filthy street, I ran for the barricade as fast as I could go. Just then, another velociraptor rounded the corner chasing after me. I heard its vicious breaths and could almost feel his jaws piercing my flesh when one of the soldiers pulled his rifle up and fired three times. I made it, I was alive.
I soon found out that these people, the ones manning the barricades, were beset on all sides. Not only did they need to pay close attention for any vicious beasts charging them, or brigands and outlaws trying to plunder their stores, but they even needed to keep order within the barricade. At least a hundred people inside were violently protesting, shouting out that the end had come, that resistance was futile, and that they had better destroy themselves rather then try to prolong their miserable lives. Amidst this conflict the defenders of the barricade were sorely pressed, being barraged with constant cries of doom and hopelessness on the one side, while still defending with their own lives the ones who had lost the will to live. I didn't know what to do. Should I grab a rifle and help stave off the attacks, or try and calm the people and convince them all hope was not lost? Another thought struck me: What were they all doing with those bright cheerful balloons? While many still wailed and cried about their inevitable doom, others, set with grim faces as if going about serious work, were vigorously pumping up more and more balloons and handing them out to the crowd. I didn't know what to make of this at first. Now every one of their number had two or three balloons. What were they going to... No! I ran toward them, screaming for them to stop, but it was too late. In unison, they let loose all the balloons. I stopped dead in my tracks, a lump forming in my throat. Why were they trying to attract the attention of that behemoth? This was madness! Not far off a penetrating screech rung out, and a monster of a pterodactyl dropped like lightning from the sky in a dive just as quick. Its sharp beak and piercing talons grabbed as many people as they could, either crushing them to death or flinging them high in the air to fall to their demise. And then it swooped back down for more. The crowd of people didn't even try to escape, though the defenders of the barricade scrambled like mad to get to cover. I came back to my senses and made a dash for an old warehouse with a second floor. Meanwhile, velociraptors joined in on the growing carnage outside, chasing down the fleeing defenders and mercilessly slaughtering them as fast as they could.
I opened the door to the warehouse, but to my dismay, the whole bottom floor was unsafe from the pterodactyl. Two large bay doors were left open on the one side, and the entire wall just opposite me had been destroyed by something or other, leaving it wide open to the outside. I turned to an old staircase and ran up the stairs three at a time. Looking around, I figured this would do fine. I hunkered down in a corner and waited. A couple minutes passed. The commotion outside quieted, then fell silent all together. No more screaming. Then, as my ears adjusted to the silence, I made out another sound; that of raw flesh being torn out and devoured in juicy, sloppy bites by hungry beasts. It was sickening. I shuddered. Pterodactyls have a wonderful memory, and this is why, after everything had been eaten and the velociraptors went off to find more to satisfy their insatiable desire for food, the pterodactyl took to the sky once more and circled the building a few times. "No! He must have seen me go inside!" I thought to myself. For a brief moment there was silence and I couldn't see where the brute had gotten off to; maybe he'd flown away. I peeked up from my hiding place just in time to see the pterodactyl diving straight for the half-frosted glass window. There was a shattering of glass, shards flew everywhere. The pterodactyl extended his talons trying to grab me, but narrowly missed as he flashed on by. He broke through the other window on the opposite side of the room and took to the skies again for another run at me. What was I to do? I had to change places, for he knew my exact location in the building now, and doubtless wouldn't miss a second time. I ran across to the other side of the room and got as close to the wall as I could. Sure enough, a moment later the pterodactyl dove again, with both wings folded above his back to get even more speed, and crashed through some of the thin sheet metal to the left of the window he'd come through the first time, and where I had been just a moment before. He let out an angry screech when his prey alluded him for the second time, and took to the skies once more. Now what to do? I switched sides again and covered myself as best I could with debris and waited. For a third time the beast swooped in, again breaking through the sheet metal on the other side of the room where I'd been a moment before. The building was looking less and less like a building, and more and more like a warzone. The pterodactyl, instead of crashing through the wall on the other side like he had done before, didn't even make it out the building this time. With a bloodcurdling screech it reeled in pain and crashed with a thump on the floor. There was an old rusty pipe protruding through both its wings, pinning them together and preventing the beast from flying. I guess that's what happens when you go crashing through walls; you're gonna hit some plumbing eventually.
Now there was a different problem on my hands. The pterodactyl turned around, still in great pain, and scanned the room. He fixed his eyes on me. Gulp. He stood up on both his legs and started coming for me, his talons slashing about, his sharp beak thirsty for blood. My blood. Could I run? No, the pterodactyl was between me and the staircase. Could I jump? Definitely no, I'd surely impale myself on the wreckage strewn about and around the destitute building. I had to fight. Looking around for a weapon, I grabbed up a broken 2x4. "This isn't going to end well." I thought to myself. Just then, I spotted an old rusty axe laying on the floor. I dropped the board and picked it up. Now I was ready. The beast was almost all the way to me, and I advanced a few more paces to meet him. He slashed one talon at me, I blocked it with the axe, then dodged the next one before jumping up and bringing the axe down full force in the monster's neck. He let out a gurgling scream and raked my back with his talons. I pulled the axe out and jumped back. The pterodactyl fixed me again with his deadly stare and advanced once again. We circled each other for a moment, and simultaneously he lunged with his beak and I swung my axe while jumping back to avoid his lunge. The axe lodged in his neck again, too deep for me to pull out immediately. The beast writhed in pain, and flailed his talons and head around, trying everything he could to hit me. I kept my distance as much as I could, but he was still fast despite his injuries. He managed to push me toward one corner, and I needed to do something quick to avoid the corner, which would spell my doom. All of a sudden I rushed the beast, narrowly avoiding a savage jab from his beak though getting clawed again on the other side of my back, and with all the power in me grabbed the axe handle and pulled up, dislodging it. Now I had my axe again. Blood spurted up from where the axe had been, and the pterodactyl turned around to meet me, talons flailing about in pain. He paused, choking on his own blood, and I rushed in for the kill. With two chops of my axe, the pterodactyl's neck hung on by just a few inches of flesh, and the beast fell down in a crumpled heap, dead. I was exhausted. I dropped to my knees and breathed deeply, the blood dripping from my back reminding me that I was not unscathed.The sky had grown dark, and deep clouds were forming to the north. The sun was setting.
Not two minutes after killing the beast, I saw red dots flying across the broken walls of the warehouse. I looked up, and saw five men dressed in camouflage with tactical rifles and body armor about thirty yards away. Yikes. They didn't look very friendly. I picked up my axe and, crouched over, made my way to the staircase. I descended it, rounded the corner and crossed the street. Just then a shout called out, "Hey! You there! Stop!" I turned into a dark alleyway and ran, just as a few bullets hit the wall behind where I had been standing just a moment before they called out. As I ran through the destitute city, greeted only by mauled corpses and carnage on every side, the sound of chasing boots growing slowly dimmer, I thought to myself, "This is going to be a long night."
I soon found out that these people, the ones manning the barricades, were beset on all sides. Not only did they need to pay close attention for any vicious beasts charging them, or brigands and outlaws trying to plunder their stores, but they even needed to keep order within the barricade. At least a hundred people inside were violently protesting, shouting out that the end had come, that resistance was futile, and that they had better destroy themselves rather then try to prolong their miserable lives. Amidst this conflict the defenders of the barricade were sorely pressed, being barraged with constant cries of doom and hopelessness on the one side, while still defending with their own lives the ones who had lost the will to live. I didn't know what to do. Should I grab a rifle and help stave off the attacks, or try and calm the people and convince them all hope was not lost? Another thought struck me: What were they all doing with those bright cheerful balloons? While many still wailed and cried about their inevitable doom, others, set with grim faces as if going about serious work, were vigorously pumping up more and more balloons and handing them out to the crowd. I didn't know what to make of this at first. Now every one of their number had two or three balloons. What were they going to... No! I ran toward them, screaming for them to stop, but it was too late. In unison, they let loose all the balloons. I stopped dead in my tracks, a lump forming in my throat. Why were they trying to attract the attention of that behemoth? This was madness! Not far off a penetrating screech rung out, and a monster of a pterodactyl dropped like lightning from the sky in a dive just as quick. Its sharp beak and piercing talons grabbed as many people as they could, either crushing them to death or flinging them high in the air to fall to their demise. And then it swooped back down for more. The crowd of people didn't even try to escape, though the defenders of the barricade scrambled like mad to get to cover. I came back to my senses and made a dash for an old warehouse with a second floor. Meanwhile, velociraptors joined in on the growing carnage outside, chasing down the fleeing defenders and mercilessly slaughtering them as fast as they could.
I opened the door to the warehouse, but to my dismay, the whole bottom floor was unsafe from the pterodactyl. Two large bay doors were left open on the one side, and the entire wall just opposite me had been destroyed by something or other, leaving it wide open to the outside. I turned to an old staircase and ran up the stairs three at a time. Looking around, I figured this would do fine. I hunkered down in a corner and waited. A couple minutes passed. The commotion outside quieted, then fell silent all together. No more screaming. Then, as my ears adjusted to the silence, I made out another sound; that of raw flesh being torn out and devoured in juicy, sloppy bites by hungry beasts. It was sickening. I shuddered. Pterodactyls have a wonderful memory, and this is why, after everything had been eaten and the velociraptors went off to find more to satisfy their insatiable desire for food, the pterodactyl took to the sky once more and circled the building a few times. "No! He must have seen me go inside!" I thought to myself. For a brief moment there was silence and I couldn't see where the brute had gotten off to; maybe he'd flown away. I peeked up from my hiding place just in time to see the pterodactyl diving straight for the half-frosted glass window. There was a shattering of glass, shards flew everywhere. The pterodactyl extended his talons trying to grab me, but narrowly missed as he flashed on by. He broke through the other window on the opposite side of the room and took to the skies again for another run at me. What was I to do? I had to change places, for he knew my exact location in the building now, and doubtless wouldn't miss a second time. I ran across to the other side of the room and got as close to the wall as I could. Sure enough, a moment later the pterodactyl dove again, with both wings folded above his back to get even more speed, and crashed through some of the thin sheet metal to the left of the window he'd come through the first time, and where I had been just a moment before. He let out an angry screech when his prey alluded him for the second time, and took to the skies once more. Now what to do? I switched sides again and covered myself as best I could with debris and waited. For a third time the beast swooped in, again breaking through the sheet metal on the other side of the room where I'd been a moment before. The building was looking less and less like a building, and more and more like a warzone. The pterodactyl, instead of crashing through the wall on the other side like he had done before, didn't even make it out the building this time. With a bloodcurdling screech it reeled in pain and crashed with a thump on the floor. There was an old rusty pipe protruding through both its wings, pinning them together and preventing the beast from flying. I guess that's what happens when you go crashing through walls; you're gonna hit some plumbing eventually.
Now there was a different problem on my hands. The pterodactyl turned around, still in great pain, and scanned the room. He fixed his eyes on me. Gulp. He stood up on both his legs and started coming for me, his talons slashing about, his sharp beak thirsty for blood. My blood. Could I run? No, the pterodactyl was between me and the staircase. Could I jump? Definitely no, I'd surely impale myself on the wreckage strewn about and around the destitute building. I had to fight. Looking around for a weapon, I grabbed up a broken 2x4. "This isn't going to end well." I thought to myself. Just then, I spotted an old rusty axe laying on the floor. I dropped the board and picked it up. Now I was ready. The beast was almost all the way to me, and I advanced a few more paces to meet him. He slashed one talon at me, I blocked it with the axe, then dodged the next one before jumping up and bringing the axe down full force in the monster's neck. He let out a gurgling scream and raked my back with his talons. I pulled the axe out and jumped back. The pterodactyl fixed me again with his deadly stare and advanced once again. We circled each other for a moment, and simultaneously he lunged with his beak and I swung my axe while jumping back to avoid his lunge. The axe lodged in his neck again, too deep for me to pull out immediately. The beast writhed in pain, and flailed his talons and head around, trying everything he could to hit me. I kept my distance as much as I could, but he was still fast despite his injuries. He managed to push me toward one corner, and I needed to do something quick to avoid the corner, which would spell my doom. All of a sudden I rushed the beast, narrowly avoiding a savage jab from his beak though getting clawed again on the other side of my back, and with all the power in me grabbed the axe handle and pulled up, dislodging it. Now I had my axe again. Blood spurted up from where the axe had been, and the pterodactyl turned around to meet me, talons flailing about in pain. He paused, choking on his own blood, and I rushed in for the kill. With two chops of my axe, the pterodactyl's neck hung on by just a few inches of flesh, and the beast fell down in a crumpled heap, dead. I was exhausted. I dropped to my knees and breathed deeply, the blood dripping from my back reminding me that I was not unscathed.The sky had grown dark, and deep clouds were forming to the north. The sun was setting.
Not two minutes after killing the beast, I saw red dots flying across the broken walls of the warehouse. I looked up, and saw five men dressed in camouflage with tactical rifles and body armor about thirty yards away. Yikes. They didn't look very friendly. I picked up my axe and, crouched over, made my way to the staircase. I descended it, rounded the corner and crossed the street. Just then a shout called out, "Hey! You there! Stop!" I turned into a dark alleyway and ran, just as a few bullets hit the wall behind where I had been standing just a moment before they called out. As I ran through the destitute city, greeted only by mauled corpses and carnage on every side, the sound of chasing boots growing slowly dimmer, I thought to myself, "This is going to be a long night."
Wednesday, January 10, 2018
Credobaptism?
Should we baptize our infants? This question has
been around a few years, and is right up there with politics on the list of
conversations not to have over Thanksgiving. Sadly, many talks and debates over
this issue never really get beyond Philippian jailors or the historical record,
and just go around in circles, only increasing the tension between the two
views. To answer this question properly we need to dig down to the heart of the
issue, and do our best to refrain from talking about secondary matters. There
are two main points that credobaptists hold to that, if shown to be false, will
inevitably lead to the conclusion that paedobaptism is indeed true.
First, credobaptists say that the way God
operates in the New Testament is fundamentally different. John Piper says this
explicitly when talking on baptism: “…circumcision
and baptism don't have the same role to play in the covenant people of God
because the way God constituted his people in the Old Testament and the way he
is constituting the Church today are fundamentally different.”[1] No longer is there an ethnic people of God united
with an outward sign, circumcision, there is a spiritual people of God, united
through baptism. Just as the outward sign changed, they reason, so the actual
meaning itself changed. In the Old Covenant, circumcision was a sign that you
belonged to the nation of Israel, which did not necessarily correlate with
actually being one of the elect. Now, however, baptism is a sign that you
belong to the spiritual people of God, and are a part of the elect. Since the
meaning has changed, it follows that the practices of inclusion used in the Old
Covenant should not be used in the New. It is hardly feasible that every last
child born into a Christian home will be of Christ, and therefore, they cannot
be baptized as infants. The only problem with their line of reasoning is that
the New Covenant is most definitely a continuation of the Old, with only the
outward visible sign being changed. Paul says in Galatians 3:17(ESV): “This is
what I mean: the law, which came 430 years afterward, does not annul a covenant
previously ratified by God, so as to make the promise void. For if the
inheritance comes by the law, it is no longer comes by promise; but God gave it
to Abraham by a promise.” We can see here that inheritance comes by the
promise. For, as Paul said, if the inheritance came by the law, then it cannot
come by the promise, which is exactly how God gave it to Abraham. Applying this
to the New Covenant, we still see that central to the acquirement of the
inheritance is the promise. Therefore, the previous covenants are not made
void, but rather are upheld by the New; there is continuity between them. We
are not living in fear that God may once again flood the earth, for His covenant
remains sure and has not been changed by the introduction of later covenants;
His promise remains sure.
How exactly is baptism the replacement of
circumcision? For starters, let me point out to you that both play the same
role, officially bringing in a person to the covenant. We see in Gen. 17:7-10
that circumcision brings you into the promise, and Galatians 3:29 tells us the
same thing about baptism: “For as many of you as were baptized into Christ have
put on Christ. There is neither Jew nor Greek, there is neither slave nor free,
there is no male and female, for you are all one in Christ Jesus. And if you
are Christ’s, then you are Abraham’s offspring, heirs according to the
promise.” Baptism is the putting on of Christ, the turning into Abraham’s
offspring, becoming heirs of the promise. As we can see, both circumcision and
baptism play the same roles in relationship to the covenant. What is the
circumcision of Christ, of the New Covenant? It is the circumcision made
without hands, through being buried with Christ in baptism. Baptism circumcises your heart, which is what God has
always ultimately cared about.[2]
Now, however, baptism replaces the need for outward circumcision. We find in
Colossians 2:11-12, “In him also you were circumcised with a circumcision made
without hands, by putting off the body of flesh, by the circumcision of Christ,
having been buried with him in baptism, in which you were also raised with him
through faith in the powerful working of God who raised him from the dead.” Therefore,
in the New Covenant, baptism is the official initiation into the covenant of
God. “If that is so,” credobaptists will say, “why should the customs of
circumcision carry over to baptism?” For this simple reason: it is still
‘circumcision’, only not outward of the flesh, but a circumcision of the heart.
Calvin says, “We therefore conclude that, apart from the difference in the
visible ceremony, whatever belongs to circumcision pertains likewise to
baptism.”[3]
The only thing that has changed is the outward appearance of the rite.
The second thing that credobaptists erroneously
believe is that faith is necessary to have before baptism. John Piper says: “In every New Testament command and
instance of baptism the requirement of faith precedes baptism. So infants
incapable of faith are not to be baptized.”[4] Baptism is the outward sign of an inward reality,
and since there is no way to know whether an infant believes in Christ or not,
there is no way he can be baptized. They
think this way because they view baptism as only a sign of their faith, and not
as both a sign and seal. Although the examples of baptism in the New Testament
are preceded by believing, this does not necessarily apply in the same way to
infants. John Calvin aptly says, “If any man subtly reasons that infants ought
to be denied food on the pretext that the apostle allows only those who labor
to eat [II Thess. 3:10], does not such a man deserve to be spat upon by all?”[5]
After looking at Thessalonians through Calvin’s eyes, it is obvious that this
verse must be applied differently in regards to different people. So too it is
with baptism. God works through families in both the Old and New Testaments. In
Acts Paul tells us in Acts 2:39, “For the promise is for you and for your
children and for all who are far off, everyone whom the Lord our God calls to
himself.” This sounds an awful lot like the language used in Deut. 7:9 and Ps.
103:17-18, among others. When Paul uses this language, first century Jews would
have immediately been reminded of God’s promise to His people. In the Old
Testament, the Israelites were commanded to circumcise their children on the
eighth day.[6]
From what we see here, inclusion in the covenant isn’t about your faith, it’s
about all that God has done for you. You take and eat the bread and wine, but
you are baptized. Vander Zee had it
right: “Baptism is a sign and seal of what God is doing and has done in Christ
and to the baptized individual, not a sign of that individual’s faith.”[7]
Certainly, not all who are baptized are ultimately going to be of Christ.[8]
However, this is not a strong point to make against paedobaptism, as Israelites
in the Old Testament are constantly abandoning Yahweh. Since we have already shown
the continuity between the Testaments, this poses no setbacks for our
understanding of baptism.
From here it is plain to see that infants should
be included in the promise, since they are included in the promise in the Old
Testament. Therefore, they ought also to receive the sign of that promise, baptism.
God doesn’t want us to raise cute little heathens and then try to convert them
when they are old enough to think for themselves. Rather, we should raise them
in the nurture and admonition of the Lord. They should be able to pray from a
young age, “Our Father, who art in
heaven…”[9]
(Emphasis added.) and we should teach them how to live properly.[10]
This means we should act as though our children are already of the promise,
baptize them, and expect them to show the fruit of that promise. Let us boldly stand
with Joshua and say, “But as for me and my house, we will serve the LORD.”[11]
Bibliography
Calvin,
John, Institutes of the Christian
Religion, Translated by Ford Lewis Battles. Lewisville, KY:
Westminster
John Knox Press, 2011.
Piper,
John, http://www.desiringgod.org/messages/how-do-circumcision-and-baptism-correspond,
accessed December 1, 2016.
Vander
Zee, Leonard J., Christ, Baptism and the
Lord’s Supper: Recovering the Sacraments for Evangelical
Worship.
Downers
Grove, IL: InterVarsity Press, 2004.
Monday, January 1, 2018
#Jex
Everyone seems to like writing about resolutions or giving summaries of the past year on January 1st or maybe even the day before. Now don't get me wrong, these are all good and well and definitely have their place, but today is not that day for me. Maybe sometime later I'll get around to writing about those things. For the moment, I'm just going to write about what's on my mind right now. Check back in a couple weeks and I might have a 'new year' post out. One can never be sure, especially me. Well let's crack on with it, shall we?
But then, jumping back to the present, my mamma came in with her phone and took a picture of Selkie on my lap and started laughing/giggling uncontrollably at the scheme she had in mind. Sure enough, not two minutes later, there was a new post on my wall with the very same picture along with the provocative caption: #jex. I immediately sprung to action and informed the world that it was not my doing and that Selkie had just jumped up there by herself, and I further said how great Jex is and how no mere cat could ever take her place.
It's been a long two weeks since I arrived in Florida, and I've been missing Jex a lot. She's the bestest dog I could ever hope for, and always makes me happy, even when I'm down. At any rate, I'm sad she's not here with me. There are, however, other critters here to keep me company. There's Savannah's dog Jill, as well as Pappy, who has now become the family dog. Jill tolerates me, and is only attentive whenever I happen to have food in my hands. Pappy, on the other hand, is super happy clappy all the time and loves being around me, but he'll never settle down enough to actually let you pet him, and is altogether a different dog ever since he drank a big bowl of bleach water a number of years ago and nearly died. Although he has since healed a little, his demeanor is not what it used to be and it's sad. At any rate, neither dog is a good substitute for Jex. Then, a more recent addition to the animals around the house, are two cats, as well as a kitten. Now I'm not much of a cat person, as some of you may know or at least suspect, and to me they're tolerable at best and incorrigible at worst. Firefly is a good example of the former. She doesn't do much, isn't very pretty, and fairly easily is stirred up to wrath and lashes out or runs off and pouts or sulks. Other times she simply walks about fairly aimlessly completely ignoring everybody and is never excited about being petted. Firefly's kitten hasn't had time to learn these traits yet, so we'll have to suspend judgment on him till a later date. He is kinda cute though, but in all likelihood he'll grow out of it. I don't know, we'll see. Selkie, on the other hand, is a good example of the latter. She is an entirely miserable cat, who never purrs, claws you just for walking within a three-foot radius of her, and would hiss just as soon as breathe. If you like artsy red lines up and down your hands with a possible side of infection, try giving her a pet. She'll slice your hands up like a professional butcher does a raw slab of meat, which is exactly what your arm will be by the time she's through with it.
As you can see, there' no suitable replacement for Jex here. Jex is far too sweet, pretty, obedient, and loving and perfect to be matched, especially by the likes of any mere cat. So here I wait, looking forward to seeing her again in a couple weeks. But then, it happened. I don't know why, but all of a sudden, Selkie decided she liked me. Still not quite sure why, but here's my working theory: Selkie is now in heat. Normally this makes cats incorrigible, as in the case of Firefly, but the truth of the matter is that it makes the cat the opposite or near opposite of what they are at the core of their being. Hence, Firefly becomes more annoying but not enough that normal people can't handle for a couple days. Likewise, since Selkie is normally demon-spawn, she is now almost angelic in her demeanor. She lets anyone pet her, and can even be found purring on occasion. And, for some reason, she now likes me. Whenever I sit down in this one particular chair in the Grand Hall (That's our name for this one room in our house. It's kind of funny because this room is neither grand nor is it a hall. If you want to here about the glorious history of how this room came to have such a name, ask me sometime and I'll tell you.), Selkie always runs up and jumps in my lap and sits down. She thinks it's the best thing in the world. Now, as you already know, I'm not much of a cat person. But at the same time, I am not so cold-hearted as to return evil for good. Here was a cat actually being nice for once in my life, and the little pity I didn't know I possessed in my heart for cats was stirred up. I allowed her to remain on my lap whenever she jumped up, and even petted her from time to time.
A brief hiatus: (this connects back to what we were talking about, so don't worry) A couple months ago Caleb, Brooke, Anna, Lucy and Sarah made a fake instagram account for me. They thought it was hilarious. Sarah convinced me to make my own instagram account because she "thought it would be cool" and that I should just do it, so I suspiciously played along, expecting an ambuscade of some sort. A couple days after making the account and finding nothing had happened, I forgot all about it and moved on with my life. All the while though, they had been posting random pictures of me from a variety of places, and including tons of weird outlandish hashtags. Each one, whether or not she was even in the picture, included #jex. I thought this was funny once they finally got around to showing me the fake account. I was blown away when they did; I'd never suspected them of making a fake account for me. The kicker though is that people actually thought it was me and that I had suddenly taken up a career in instagramming! This made me laugh. Apparently this whole idea was payback for the other day when I scared them half to death, so fair enough, I guess I deserved it. But the point though is how often Jex came up in all the crazy hashtags. This is further evidence (as if yall needed more!) of how much I adore her.
But then, jumping back to the present, my mamma came in with her phone and took a picture of Selkie on my lap and started laughing/giggling uncontrollably at the scheme she had in mind. Sure enough, not two minutes later, there was a new post on my wall with the very same picture along with the provocative caption: #jex. I immediately sprung to action and informed the world that it was not my doing and that Selkie had just jumped up there by herself, and I further said how great Jex is and how no mere cat could ever take her place.
Anyways, several of my friends have been tagging me in dog memes such as "I wish I could text my dog", among others. These all make me long to see her again all the sooner. To top it off, Caleb and Brooke and I did a video call today to catch up, and Brooke went outside and showed me Jex. There she was, happily wagging her tail, then sitting down and hugging Brooke, and occasionally trying to lick her face. I tried to call out to her, as I'd done many times over Freshman year before she was in Idaho with me, but still she couldn't recognize my voice through the speaker, nor could she notice me on the screen. It was a one-way glass window through which I could see, but not touch, hear, but not be heard, knowing the whole time that Jex would never know I was even there, and would in fact be wondering when I was ever coming back. When I left for my first year of college, she got really depressed and would barely eat anything. Her grief could not be quelled, and she would run from one end of the house to my old room and back again. At night she would scratch my parents' door and cry and cry. It was very sad, and there was nothing I could do about it.
At any rate, it's just two more weeks till I go back and see her. I suppose in my fervor to avoid writing a sappy end/start of the year blogpost I've managed instead to write a sappy blogpost about my dog and how great she is... but oh well. That's life I guess.
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