Monday, November 07, 2005

Conviction, men, Black Beauty, hipsters

I was walking through the creosote looking for arrowheads and gray foxes and thinking of a radio show I listened to today. Faithfulness, faithfulness, faithfulness, was all I could remember. I knew the next word I was looking for started with a C but I couldn't find it in my head. Then, after a prickly pear poked me I found it. Conviction. Faithfulness without conviction. Is reading juicy online gossip practicing faithfulness without conviction. I think we can safely say, or collectively yell, YES. Does reading gossip glorify God, does commenting on gossip glorify God, does willfully mingling with gossipers glorify God? Not bloody likely. Today I stopped reading the gossip site I found a few weeks ago. What a waste of my time. It's not easy you know, just stopping. With a click I can be there and who would know. (Tick, tock, tick, tock...Who with a capital letter, that's Who.)

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There are a lot of manly men in New Mexico. Lots of big mustaches. My husband said it's because there are lots of cowboys here. I never really thought of New Mexico as being cowboy country, but I guess it is. There was a great deal of ranching in the area a hundred years ago. After the Civil War southern families who lost everything came to New Mexico for a new start. They don't sell alcohol in restaurants on Sundays here. (My husband tried to order a margarita tonight.)

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In Wal-Mart I waited in the truck while my husband went inside. I was so sad to see a big, strong, strapping young man carrying his baby in a big, plastic baby carrier, the kind that straps into a car. He lugged that baby through the parking lot as if he were too tired to be carrying his own child. Big, strong, young man like that should have been ashamed of himself. The baby's head was being bopped around like a sack of potatoes. His wife walked beside him. Wordlessly, they climbed into their truck and drove off. Girls should be careful who they dilly dally with. Marry a man like that and your life will be hard and sad. I'll bet her heart cries, but she daren't cry on the outside. A hard life allows no room for tears.

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We're reading Black Beauty for bedtime. It's the only book Anna Sewell ever wrote and she wrote it because horses were often badly abused and she wanted to change the world, the way people treated horses. Anna was a Quaker, and broke both ankles in a fall when she was fourteen and was crippled (or she may have had a degenerative bone disease, we don't know). She never knew how hugely popular her book would become. She died a mere five months after its publication.

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We went to church this morning and our son thoroughly enjoyed the Sunday School. My husband popped in during the service to be sure he was fine and he and all the other kids were sitting quietly and the speaker had their rapt attention. The pastor and his wife were very good. This town is small and the congregation small. The singing and the music were excellent. They sang all songs I didn't know which was unusual. Usually I know at least one! Being from southern California I'm used to seeing hipsters in church - you know, tons of make-up, hair just so, tight clothes, tummies showing, even miniskirts. But here, none of that at all. It was a rough crowd I would say, but the worship was soooo good. I felt the singers were singing strictly for the Lord, not as a show. At home, the singers felt a bit like a performance.

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