Special Post 2 - Interpretation

I chose to share my interpretation of “The Traveling Onion” by Naomi Shihab Nye. Over the course of this semester, this poem has continued to stick with me. The first part of the poem includes information about its appearance, its texture, and questioning about where the onion came from. The second part is not so literal and talks about the onion as if it had feelings and emotions for example, being capable of crying. It comments on how the onion is often looked past and forgotten as being part of a dish.
        I believe that this poem needs to be interpreted because it can be mistaken as “deceptively simple.” This poem could be read in a literal sense with ease, but it takes effort to analyze and reflect on what meaning is available to access.  When we all first read this poem, we probably just perceived it as simply being about an onion. While this could apply, I believe that there is a much deeper meaning and interpretation to this poem. There is so much more being offered that would be a shame to fail to recognize its potential for wisdom and insight. It is a poem that you should read several times in order to really grasp the complexity of  its message.
        I believe that this poem could mean several different things depending on the reader and their experiences. I do not think that the author was talking about a literal onion, but was just using it as a metaphor. Inspired by an onion, but in my opinion, is representing a person. However, there is not just one meaning to the poem. The possibilities could be quite endless.

“When I think how far the onion has traveled
just to enter my stew today, I cold kneel and praise
All small forgotten miracles”

        We often forget to remember who someone may have been before they were who they currently are in your life today. People have a past. Some people have more of a significant past than others. This person may have a story to tell, but we often fail to recognize their journey  that they endured to be able to be where they are at now. Over a lifetime, we all must overcome temptations, strive to be the best we can be, and jump over hurdles. How much did it take for that person to be a part of your life? We forget that each breath that we take and each step we make mistakingly call a “small” miracle from God is something that deserves all of our praise because of its greatness. And in my opinion, I do not think that God would label anything he created as a small miracle, especially any of our lives.

“Crackly paper peeling on the drainboard,
pearly layers in smooth agreement,
the way knife enters onion
and onion falls apart on the chopping block,
a history revealed.”
       
        This describes how a person is multifaceted. Each of us have a depth, something beyond the surface. A person has a certain appearance on the outside, an initial impression. We can describe someone’s physical description when we first meet them, but how much can we know about someone just by this observation? Even after being friends with someone for years does not mean that you have seen their history. As humans, we automatically are safe about who we allow to know private things about us. We do not automatically open up about our story. However, when we allow someone to see us “fall apart” and be open, you can see the importance of someone’s story and how it plays a part in who they have become. There’s more to someone than what just “meets the eye.” I recently heard a quote saying, “ The depth that we will allow someone to hurt us is the depth that we can be loved.” I think that this applies because it relates to being open, rather broken.

“And I would never scold the onion
for causing tears.
It is right that tears fall
for something small and forgotten."

I believe that this is saying that we should not discourage or look down on this person for showing negative emotions, for crying. One would cry if they were always being forgotten and if their story and significance is so often overlooked. How could we not have sympathy on such a thing?This particular quote would make no sense if it were actually referring to an actual onion. But in fact, I believe it is referencing people and things that most often go forgotten because the big things they do mistakingly are perceived as small.

“How at meal, we sit to eat,
commenting on texture of meat or herbal aroma
but never on the translucence of onion,
now limp, now divided,
or its traditionally honorable career:
For the sake of others,
disappear.”

It points out how the role of the onion in a dish usually goes unnoticed and unrecognized. However, from cooking school, I have learned that an onion plays a major role in so many dishes. Its pungency of flavor, texture, and aroma is irreplaceable. We would notice if it if were missing, but do not appreciate its presence. It is generally not used as the main ingredient, onion rings could be an exception however. :) The onion can be related to a “sidekick” or the “backstage person.” They are usually not the one recognized because the superhero or the actor is in the spotlight, but without those invisible people, they would not be so successful or desirable. 

I like how it referred to an onion as being translucent. An onion in its raw form is white, but when it begins to be cooked down, it becomes translucent.  Transluscent can be defined as transparent, clear, and free from disguise or falseness. When one thinks of it this way, a person being translucent can refer to  their honesty, their openess, their dignity, or their authenticity. 

People will often praise the “meat” people who take the lead role, or “herb” people that appeal to the senses immediately. However, the small onion that that is now taken apart, no longer in its original form is not even mentioned. People allow themselves to become vulnerable, taken apart, and used in honor of who they are as a person. Though they know they are not going to receive recognition, they still do it as a sacrifice for some one else. There is power in the phrase “For the sake of others, disappear.” Not many of us are willing to do this. Not many of us are good at sacrificing ourselves so that others can receive the glory. I think that the honorable things that we do that go unnoticed are the things that God treasures the most.

I believe that this interpretation matters to both myself and the reader. By reading The Traveling Onion on a surface level, just being about a literal onion, we are simply just missing out. Yes, it may be an entertaining poem but would we really get anything meaningful out of it?  When you analyze what the poem could really be saying, you can see that there is a life lesson being taught. The overall message that I got was that one should not forget to recognize great, seemingly small people worthy of praise in the midst of the crowds. Take time to recognize their journey, hear their heart, allow them to share their history, appreciate their sacrifices, and see their selfless acts as an example for your own life.

The Spirit of God Hovered

Every time I think about those that are disabled physically or mentally, I cannot help but question God about why they were specifically chosen. 

It is hard not to automatically sympathize with these people because we feel badly for them for the “challenges” they must go through on a daily basis. 

We automatically feel that we should pray for these people because they are in “desperate need of healing.”

When someone needs to be healed, it implies that there is something wrong with someone. But can we say that this would be the case for all those who are mentally and physically disabled? 

Would they consider themselves “unfortunate”? Maybe they see us those who are actually unfortunate. 

We are taught that God created us in His own image, wants the best for us, had a specific plan for each of us before we were even born, and is a God of healing. Do we still believe and apply this when it comes to those who are physically and mentally disabled?

As I read the story about the man whose son was born disabled, I tried to put myself in his situation. What kind of questions would I be asking of God? Things are easier watched and spoken of rather than actually doing and experiencing. 

The father in the story spoke about how he and his wife might actually regret the healing of his son. They did not want him to be “ill”, but they would regret losing the son they currently had and that God gave them. This further proves how God knew what he was doing. He is all knowing. We may doubt things that seem wrong to our flesh, but in the spiritual, all things are made according to His will.

People often become frustrated when a miraculous healing does not occur when they are praying for someone. They can have all the faith in the world, but if it is not part of God’s calling on their life then He does not step in. We can often mistake this for God being mean and not there. This is when we must simply have faith and trust our God who is all knowing. He has plans immeasurably greater than our own. 

Boys Next Door

Ultimately, the Boys Next Door has reminded me that I should be thankful for God’s blessings on my life physically and mentally. 

We take for granted the things that we are capable to do in a daily basis. 

It’s so cliche, but important enough to state anyway.

We all at one time wish that we were better at something. 

We compare ourselves to others, but we compare ourselves that are greater than us. This makes us feel inferior and gives us a spirit of dissatisfaction.

Everyone is bad at something. Everyone has insecurities.

But who are we to be unthankful for the talents and abilities that God HAS given us.

This should only inspire us to see our God-given strengths and utilize them according to His will and use them effectively. 

Think......If you were not able to read....

You would probably think to yourself.......

Oh, the things I could do if I could read.

We all have so much potential. 

Potential to do different things.

The person that is labeled as mentally disabled has a lot more potential in a different area than me. 

This is a random side note that kind of popped into my mind, not really relatable to this specific subject but kind of goes along with our potential.... I am not quite sure where I heard this quote, but it has stuck with me. “What would you do if you knew that you could not fail?”

Having this outlook could change lives. We constantly do not attempt to do things because we think that we will fail. If people could not overcome this fear.......how different would our world be, our society be. The mentally disabled should not believe the statement of "You are not capable of doing that"

What I love to see is when people with mental disabilities do not focus on what they are incapable of doing but rather what they ARE capable of doing. 

Its inspiring to see their spirit of optimism, to keep pushing on, to make the most of their life despite what they are experiencing. 

Often times, they are the most joyful of all people. 

They have a sense of being carefree. They are not worried about useless things as we are.....

I can actually say that I envy them. 

How would it feel to be so feel that freedom? 

although they are probably unaware of this liberation

just as they probably envy us .....as we are unaware of their idea of “liberation”

we are oblivious.

I enjoyed going to AFI. Again, it was just an eye opener.

I love to be exposed to the lives of people different than mine.

I hate to think of myself as ignorant. 

Also, I really admired the workers there. 

God really blessed them with a heart for them. 

Art Museum

I had never been to a museum of art

always pictured it for those who were smart

We got stickers that said P.M.O.A

stickers are a guarantee to a great day

First exhibit was Japanese prints and textiles

kimonos seemed to go for miles

The security guard thought we were up to no good

did we look like we could be from the hood?

The room of student’s art

overflowed with so much heart

Their work was truly inspirational

such talent proves that art is transformational

Next room looked like an aquarium

Yes, this happened to excite us some

It was a room of Ancient art of the Americas

cool display of artifacts it was

Upstairs there was another art filled-room

Even a dinosaur chew-toy, well we assume

Families and what they called home displayed

a message of appreciation conveyed

I went to the Polk Museum of Art for this assignment, and I stayed there for at least 40 minutes.

On Friday, Juliet, Annalee, Brendan and I attended the Polk County Art Museum. I really did not know what to expect because I have never been to an art museum before. First, we walked by beautiful and peaceful bonzai trees into the Japanese art exhibit that just opened that day. How special is that?

Next, we walked through exhibits of art done by eleventh and twelfth graders of Polk County. I really found it cool to see how talented young people are. We then proceeded to the upstairs. There was a hallway filled with large sized photographs of families from multiple different countries. In each picture, the family was creatively pictured in front of their home with their belongings. For most, they had barely anything. As I examined some of these family’s faces, their emotion of their facial expressions spoke millions of words. I wanted to hear their stories. To the right of each picture, their country was written along with some other information. I cannot remember the exact words, but it said something like “what they hope for”. Some said simply a home or a refrigerator. Not too sound corny, but things like this always put how little people actually have into perspective. The “cushiony” life of Americans was pointed out by their hope for an RV to mostly likely travel in.

I feel like art is similar to poetry as it relates to the necessity for the elimination of “surface reading or observing”. It requires a certain depth and search for understanding and revelation. They are usually not things that just “click” when you look at them. You have to be open to and expecting to be changed, to learn something new. They have meanings and messages that came from the pit of their soul, something inspired them to create them. 

Take notice to,in my opinion, art is not something that can be taught. It is one of those God-given talents that people just have. Like poetry, it takes a special talent to be able to use and express your emotions in an art form. 

I am always interested as to what the person was thinking when they created their art piece. We forget to remember what all went into the making of what we see before our eyes. It was once a white canvas, bare of inspiration, thoughts, negative emotions, positive emotions, time, sweat, tears, passion, love, beauty......

Reading for Transformation

In my first teams a few weeks ago, we discussed about all things being spiritual. I think this applies to “Reading for Transformation” because it implies that poetry does not necessarily need to be Biblical for it to be considered spiritually enhancing. We cannot limit ourselves to the Bible alone as our way to feed our souls. I think that poetry is God’s beautiful way of speaking. Because poetry is not so direct in its message at times, it challenges one to really meditate and seek wisdom about what is being said. It challnges you , causes questions to arise, leads to conversation, leads to an escape from “the surface.” “To really enter the world before the text… is to be changed, to come back different, where one does nto come back at all but moves forward into a newness of being. From the genuine encounter with the true in the beautiful one cannot go home again.” To think of poetry as having the potential to be that life changing is rather radical. When I read this quote, I immediately thought of Kim Walker’s version of “How he loves us”. Towards the end of the song, there is a part where she says “Tonight God wants to encounter you. He wants to feel his love, his amazing love. Without it, these are just songs, these are just words, these are just instruments. Without the love of God, we’re just making noise. But the love of God changes us and we’re never the same after you encounter the love of God. And If you’ve never encountered the love of God, you would know. Cus you would never be the same. You would never be the same again.” She then prays that every heart would be open for a love encounter from God that night. I do not like to compare the love of God to poetry, because there is of course nothing worthy. However, it is relatable. Just as our worship and relationship with God can be merely kept at a safe level, still taking in knowledge, just sticking our toes in the water, we can read poetry without really diving in and experiencing its potency. Without reading poetry as transformational, it is just words. We can read it. We can study it. We can even memorize it. But has it ever overwhelmed us? Did we finish with a sense of newness? Are we the exact same? ( I am not inferring that I believe that you should have a life-changing experience with every poem that you read by any means.) Overwhelm being: to empower somebody emotionally, overcome somebody physically, surge over somebody or something I am not sure if this reading and the quote from the song would spark the same connection to anyone else, but it did for me. We become so satisfied with just doing it. Just doing what is necessary. We become okay with getting the same “revelation” from something as everyone else. We probably did not even get this revelation from it personally, but have just heard it from someone else as that being what we were supposed to receive from it. But if this “revelation” really was such a “revelation”, I believe it should be life changing. There is power in words. Therefore, there is power in poetry. Power has potential for transformation.

darkness, qestions, poetry and spiritual hope

“Where is God in the darkness? When we sit daily with this question, perhaps through silence and poetry, instead of ignoring it or sprouting answers, our spiritual hopes becomes authentic.”

We all have found ourselves in facing “darkness” in our lives and have asked ourselves questions about where God was in that situation. We have this idea that if we are God’s children and that He loves us, He is supposed to keep us from all suffering. We all know what the right answer is and what the common responses are. “You have to go through trials to strengthen your faith. God will never put you through something that you cannot handle. There is a purpose for you going through this trial.” THese are just some examples of what you try and tell yourself or what other people will tell you going through certain circumstances. But if you really ask yourself and meditate on this subject, do you really believe those things? 

Where is our faith in times of darkness? 

That is what ultimately tests your faith, times of trouble. 

This weekend, my friend gave me a book to read called The Barbarian Way by Erwin McMannus. To sum it up, he basically wrote about the life of an untamed faith, untamed love, and untamed life living for Jesus. 

There is so much more than the perfect religious way of living where people simply block out the idea of our fight against darkness. If we do that, yeah, Christianity would be simple. But the reality is, we are constantly at battle against the powers of darkness. When we were called to follow Christ, He never promised us a life of safety and peace. On the contrary, he warned us about how we would face more trials and tribulations. The stronger our faith, the stronger a threat we are to the enemy. 

“Take up your cross daily and follow me” We have all heard this verse so many times, but if we took the time in silence to absorb all of what that means......we would live live differently. Imagine all that it took for Jesus to take up His cross.

 He said “My god, my God, why have you forsaken me?”  How bad could it have been to make even Jesus say this.....

NATURE

I went to Lake Bonny Park for this assignment, and 

I stayed there for at least 40 minutes.

POEM:

We drove ten minutes down the road

The Mcdonalds in the trunk was a big load

Our final destination, Lake Bonny Park

It was far from turning dark

The sun was deceiving

But i kept on believing

What I hated was the wind

Everyone still just grinned

Good someone knew about the bridge

the lakeview was sure a privilege

I threw a jellybean to the crocodile

But I guess lemon wasn’t his style

The birds swooped down too low

We were a bit scared down below

There was no silence with children’s screams

They competed with my nature daydreams

All the lizards we were seein’

obviously had not been eatin’

Nature includes sweet tea

It was once leaves, you see?

My poem was a bit silly. However, I take nature very seriously. In fact, I recently just wrote a list of values for my life and one of them was to take time daily to appreciate nature. I feel that it is important to, each day, take time to breathe and take in the beauty of Creation. It reminds me of how creative and how thoughtful God is. It is a reminder of my lowliness compared to such a big and awesome God.

I am a lover of nature.

I wish I could eat, sleep, and work outside. :)

There is so much simplicity in it, yet so much complexity that I do not even want to say that I come close to being capable of fathoming it. It is such a mystery. It is so great that I often feel unworthy of being in its presence. 

It impacts all your senses. I could sit outside all day long, embrace every sound, every sight, every feeling, every smell. There’s something about nature that speaks serenity and peacefulness.

Nature speaks so much about our Jesus......Even now I find myself speechless.

When we first think of nature, we usually think about trees, flowers, the mountains, or the beach. But I think the most amazing form of nature is God’s ultimate creation, humans. You and I are what God treasures most. He made all the rest of nature for our enjoyment and pleasure. 

The trip to the park was lovely. Any day at the park with the warmth of the sun shining is a good day in my book! I always jump to any opportunity to soak up the sun. However, I feel that we did not have to go to that park necessarily to be “inspired” for this poem, but it was enjoyable as I already shared. We sat on the bridge overlooking the pond or lake, whichever it was. When I place myself directly in the presence of nature, I feel that I am sitting in the presence of God. And of course, there’s nothing better than that......

Nature

Beauty fills your heart with warmth.

Beauty fills your mind with a world of imagination.

Beauty fills your soul with a sweet song.

Beauty stirs up emotions.

Beauty is often difficult to sum up into words.

Beauty is all around you.

Nature is God’s artwork and to describe it as beautiful does not even begin to do it justice. 

Everyone can find something they feel is beautiful in nature. 

My favorite quote from “State of the Planet” was “It must be a gift from evolution that  humans can’t sustain wonder. We’d never have gotten up from our knees if we could” 

As I read the poem, it really stuck out to me and made me think for a moment. We fail to recognize the details of nature. We take them for granted because they are not so “amazing” because we see them every day. 

If we saw the sunset on the beach in St. Lucia, lava running down the side of a volcano, the planets from a space ship, an aerial view of Hawaii, or the depths of the ocean every single day, we may not find them to be so “wondrous”. 

To think that we’d never have gotten up from our knees if we could does not mean we are in awe and want to worship the nature itself, but we are in awe of how a Creator paid so much attention to every little detail and made it beyond our intelligence. 

What would our lives be like without nature? We are surrounded by it and harmonious with it. 

God uses nature as a way to reveal Himself to those who have not heard the name of Jesus. He says that everyone is responsible because he shows himself to them through the glory of His creation. 

What else about nature is still yet to be discovered? What are the things that cannot be seen with the naked eye? Why did God create the things that we cannot even see so meticulously? 

As we have read about nature in poetry, it has helped me learn to appreciate it even more. It gives attention to the littlest aspects that we forget and describes them in a way that shines light on its wonder. It gives words to the beauty that leaves us speechless. The author, Mary Oliver, did a good job in not only describing nature, but in describing nature’s interaction with humans. 

Who defines what beauty is anyway....

Character

One of the things that I have learned this semester is that everyone is keeping a secret. Now wait, it is not a personal thing against you. It is usually not even a secret like the one that your girlfriend will tell you and then make you promise not to tell anyone. They can simply be considered one’s “hidden thoughts”, things they are not public about, something they are not openly expressive about. It may not be something they are not willing to share. It just may be something they are not going to volunteer to be transparent about automatically. It is a part of their inner self. And many people are yearning for someone to take the time to recognize this unknown, someone to simply take the time to hear their heart, to hear the whispers of their secret.
I have been praying about this area specifically that God would enhance my empathy for others, that I would be more discerning to people’s deeper feelings......that I would not just see the outer crust. As I live on this Christian University’s campus, I would not expect for there to be so many hurting souls, so many broken pasts, so many people with a secret that is eating them from the inside out. But this past semester and a half, I have been privileged to hear people’s stories which had been hidden. They deserved to be expressed, to be heard. There is so much healing in releasing what has been kept hidden.
People’s outer self, their crust, can be so deceiving. We probably have all experienced the surprise of finding out that your initial idea of someone was completely wrong after you have gotten to know them well. I think that this proves that what is on the inside is not always reflected on the outside. Basically, what I am spitting out thoughts about is how we should not judge, have preconceived thoughts about, or assume things about people. They usually have a story, a secret. Take the time to listen to their heart, how their character has been shaped.

This Blessed House

This Blessed House by Jhumpa Lhairi left me questioning if I had missed an underlying theme or lesson in the story, what the author was truly trying to get a cross, what the point of this short story was, what the conclusion was, and basically what the story was REALLY about. The story itself was a fast read that kept me engaged to see what was going to happen in the end. However, nothing truly meaningful actually does happen. It feels like it ends abruptly and it left me dissatisfied. 

I found an interesting interview with Jhumpa Lhairi online. I have found that when I read about the authors and little bit more about how the text was originated or what it was inspired by has been quite helpful in “feeling” the story more. Also, I believe respect for the text is also gained.

Jhumpa Lhairi was raised in America by her parents who were Indian immigrants. In her interview, she talks about how as a result of being a daughter of Indian immigrants, she struggled with a strong sense of alienation, desiring knowledge of a lost world, confusion about belongingness, and questions of identity. This is why many of her stories are either set in India or America or based on Indian people or American people. 

One of the questions in the interview was stated, “You write frequently from the male point of view. Why?” She began explaining how because she did not have any brothers and so she did not understand the male species very well. They seemed to be a mystery and she was curious. I suppose expressing her ideas about a male perspective is helped her explore this mystery. She said that “This Blessed House” was the first story that she had ever written from a male perspective. She described it as exhilarating and liberating and a challenge. This first experience inspired her to write many more from the male perspective. 

After learning that, I thought it was interesting to go back to the story and see how the text was her effort to imagine what a man would be thinking in that situation. I found Najeef’s little remarks about what annoyed him about Twinkle was comical. She showed how husbands most often do not understand the little things that their wife will find amusing or be interested in, but they simply just learn how to accept that as part of who we are and love them anyway. 

Special Post 1 - Character

Every Sunday morning felt as if I were experiencing Ground Hog Day, but I liked routine. It consisted of the same exact routine of me struggling to pull my arm out from under the warmth of my blanket to reach for my phone vibrating, circling around on my crimson red nightstand that I called my treasure because I had “rescued” it from the dump. That buzzing sound always seems significantly louder as if it was maybe, four hours later. And seven thirty always seemed like four AM, no matter what time I had convinced myself would be a good time to finally resort to sleep the night before. Although I have many real and meaningful reasons to get out of bed, it was the seemingly insignificant part of my agenda that motivated me to start my Sunday morning, breakfast at Amelie’s with just me, myself, and I. Despite how oblivious I was to how this routine of having breakfast at Amelie’s that I had acquired over the past months could be significant, it did not really matter in the eyes of destiny.

Sunday, March 17^th, had of course seemed to be typical, with only the expectation of things being predictable yet pleasant. Once I conquered all the the things that I labeled as “morning challenges”, I became cheery as the man who had for months been disappointing me had finally delivered words that put an extra “umph” in my step. It may not be what you are thinking. This man people call, the “weather man” does not know me personally, but I wished he was like a friend I could impress as if he had the power to grant me my wishes. If only he knew that I anticipated hearing good news from him for the past six Sunday mornings. I took so much delight in the idea of having my breakfast with the sun shining on my face in a way that should require sunglasses and that would seem rather annoying to most, sitting indian style on the white whicker chairs that Amelie had placed in front of the restaurant. They resembled the ones that I used to sit on while having breakfast with my grandmother on magical summer mornings that year I spent all of July with her sometime in my childhood. My infatuation with the sun seems rather silly, but it is a legit infatuation to me. And today, I trusted the weather man to give me that seventy eight degree, cloud free day that could allow me to finally do this. Oh, the simple things I long for.

As expected, Amelie greeted me with her genuine, warm and almost grandmotherly like hug, wearing a rose colored apron that you would think would have looked stained and wrinkled from the baking she had already done for hours by the time I saw her. This was typical. In a proud way, as if I had been the one who deserved credit for the beautiful weather, I pointed out the window and said that I was going to sit outside today. Amelie attempted to smile, but it was more like a smirk because she knew how much I had been looking forward to finally being able to sit outside after the months of the worst winter in decades. As she led me to my table, I suddenly felt embarrassed because I realized that my excitement had got me skipping. Amelie just walked with her eyes forward as if she did not notice, giggling not out loud, but I could tell by her grin almost stretching to her ears that she wanted to so badly.

It was as lovely as I had imagined. Amelie had already brought out my coffee with two sugars and put in the order for my two eggs overeasy,crispy around the edges, and my blueberry pancake with extra blueberries with a dallop of her homemade whip cream. I was trying to embrace the sun in full capacity with my eyes closed, only seeing rainbows and flashes of neon colors. However, my curiosity got the best of me and I managed to peel open one eye so I could peek to match a face to a woman’s voice who was saying her farewells to Amelie.

Though I had been adopted twenty years ago from Taiwan, the complete opposite end of the world, I still studied every Asian woman I saw as my, just maybe, potential birth mother. This woman had jet black straight, flowing hair with a shine that was enhanced by the sun’s inevitable attraction to its deep, rich color. It rested about five fingers below her shoulders and parted directly above the middle of her nose leaving her whole forehead exposed. As it traveled away from her shoulders with the light breeze, I could tell the texture was very fine and silky as I watched how each strand seemed to find its way back to its original placing before the wind had blown it, as if it had a memory and knew exactly where she had fixed it that morning.

She appeared to be very vibrant and youthful, but the sporadic single strands of silver in her hair and the dark shading around her almond shaped, pitch black eyes gave a subtle hint to her years. Her skin looked kissed by the sun, golden, or bronze-like. Her face was like a doll’s, porcelain-like, with a healthy glow and no sign of a single wrinkle. She was slender and fragile looking, yet had an automatic presence of confidence, strength, and authority. Despite our probably twenty five year or plus age difference,I found myself wishing I knew where she bought it her pearl-colored lace dress. It sounds fancy, but it seemed casual enough for the laid-back, family style restaurant that Amelie’s atmosphere created because of her sea-foam green beach sandals that wrapped up her ankles.

My curiosity overwhelmed me so much that I was not aware of how I was leaning forward trying to keep my balance, with my legs still crossed indian style, and my eyes glaring with such focus. I examined this lady as if she were a science experiment and I probably made it quite obvious I was doing so. I overheard her saying how much she adored Amelie’s cooking because it resembled the meals her mother had prepared for her that she slowly savored before she raced to catch the school bus. She mentioned that she would love for Amelie and her husband to come over sometime that week to venture out by giving her authentic Taiwanese food a try. Her tone and words seemed refreshingly genuine. It did not seem to be one of those, typical polite “Hey, we should get together sometime soon.” kind of things. She reached her small, delicate hand toward Amelie’s shoulder and gently held it there while she talked because it made her feel like her invitation might seem more personal.

Amelie seemed truly blessed by her invitation and even more simply by her presence. I could tell this by the way Amelie laced her fingers together right in front of her heart, palms touching and her torso slanting forward closer to her with almost a twinkle in her eye. After many mornings of breakfast with Amelie, I knew that anyone she adored so much was someone I would want to know.

I began to think a thought that seemed oh so silly to even myself because I have observed many ladies like herself. “But what if this time was different than the rest and it was her?” But I did nothing about it. As I watched this lady turning the corner, her last finger that was waving goodbye disappeared behind the aged-brick wall, I felt emptiness take place in my stomach and in my heart. Then I starred at my half filled, now lukewarm mug of coffee with a dried imprint of my pink lipstick pursed on the rim, eggs with a hue of green from the oxygen, and a pancake now with a candy like texture from dried maple syrup. All were untouched and unnoticed.

I did not expect this lady to be a part of my seventy eight degree Sunday morning at Amelie’s I had fantasized about for weeks as I struggled to reach my arm out from under the blankets that morning. I did not expect to feel an emptiness as I saw the aged-brick wall take her from me before my conviction led me to speak to her.

Lectio Divina

Monday was my first experience doing Lectio Divina. In fact, it was my first time ever even hearing about it. 

I looked it up and another source described it as “divine reading”.  After applying lectio Divina to Sonny’s Blues, I definitely could see how it could benefit me in my time reading Scripture. Because again, it emphasizes not only reading text through one time and assuming that you received what the message was. It challenges you to really “soak it in” and “consume” what the text has to offer. 

In application to scripture, I believe that if you truly desire to be knowledgeable and receive wisdom from it, you should push yourself to not be lazy and take the time to genuinely study God’s words and give them the opportunity to speak.

We read a couple paragraphs from the story and applied this concept to it. 

I liked the way that Wikipedia compares this process to “Feasting on the word.” 

Lectio: taking a bite

Meditatio: chewing on it

Oratio: Savoring the essence of it

Contemplatio: it is digested and made part of the body

Lectio (Listening to the word): After reading the text out loud, I wrote down “But the man who creates the music is hearing something else, is dealing with the roar rising from the void”

Meditatio (Reflecting on the word): We read the text aloud again. My thoughts that I wrote down were “the music meant something different to him because it came from HIS soul, he experiences a avoid that we cannot begin to understand, the roar of his pain overtakes the sound of the music we are hearing, our voids cause us to relate to the music in a different way therefore the music “sings” to us differently as well”

Oratio (Responding to the word): We read the text aloud for the third time. The prayer that I wrote was “Help me be more aware of the importance of people’s words. Help me to recognize when people’s words are expressing a need or hurt they are feeling. Rid of me of only hearing what my flesh wants me to hear. Give me divine hearing. Give me sensitivity to those still, small voices. Lastly, give me the desire to be in silence with you. Help me treasure it, because I know that you do.”

At the end of this, I thought a lot about the importance of silence with God. I often find myself uncomfortable with silence or just distracted by silence. 

However, God wants that time with us, a time where even his whispers can be heard. 

The Imaginary Invalid

On Thursday night, I attended the Imaginary Invalid Play in the Bush Chapel. There was a pretty big crowd, including students from high schools. I thought it was cool how they came to Southeastern just to see our play. Now, I am going to be quite honest throughout this post. I do not believe that I have learned my appreciation for the arts. However, it is great to be in the company of and watch those whose passions derive from it. It was very evident that everyone involved was very committed and full of heart for the success of the play. 

This was my second play that I have seen put on by Southeastern University. Although I probably am uneducated about what an excellent play’s credentials should be, I believe that The Imaginary Invalid was very well done and quite funny too! I found that this play was like literature in the sense that I think that if I had seen it once or even two more times more, things would have been more clear. I do not blame the actors or the play itself for my misunderstanding, but rather simply my own lack of being able to catch on to everything the first time. There was a lot of dialogue I just simply “missed”, but my friend helped keep me informed with my “Wait.....what?” moments!

The main reason why I was really excited about seeing the play was because my best friend Juliet Jones was a dancer. I was very proud :) I have gotten to hear about the “behind the scenes” experience over the past few weeks. Seeing how much time she has put into the play helped me appreciate the performance so much more. So much goes into performances that we fail to recognize and appreciate. 

I sat back in my chair during the play and thought about how cool it is that God created us all with such different talents and ways to express out creativity. 

Love and Death

Over the course of the semester, we have focused on the topics of love and death. At first glance, our first thoughts are probably to relate them as opposites. As the stories we have read interrelate them with each other, I was interested in how these “black and white” words actually shed light on one another. We often see the optimistic side of love and fail to remember that love is quite often messy as we saw in the stories. Also, we often see death as simply loss and fail to remember that death is also planned by the Lord and grief does not have to be the only emotion associated with it. 

Just like reading literature, we read the word love and death as the word in its simplicity. However, what do we see about love and death if we engage ourselves deeper into what else can love mean or what else can death mean? It is interesting how when we “tear apart” and “dig deeper” into even one simple word, we all feel, interpret it, relate to it, define it, are inspired by it, and connect with it in a different way. 

Therefore, we should not simply suggest or even more so, accept that a certain text or a certain word has ONE theme or idea to it because we may lose the opportunity to let a different message or value be revealed. 

Some things that I found that Love and Death have in common:

-involve action of the soul

-often unwilling surrender

-”the time at which something ends”

-can be a time to celebrate because true destiny is revealed

-does not have to be desired to occur

-become a motive/ a driving force

-reveals raw and real emotions

-stir up passion

-involves/requires faith

-can bring one out of misery

-an emotional subject

-can be unexpected

-people fear it

-remains a mystery

-cannot be put into words

-cannot be understood until experienced

-have a perfect timing

-may involve suffering

-a lesson can be taught

-should not be forced

-may involve a price/sacrifice

-often approached with caution

Blogging

In our intro to Literature class, blogging has pushed me to take literature and expand beyond simply reading it. It acts as an “extension of the reading.” I think that I have always believed that whatever you got out of reading something through one time was simply all there was to it. However, the blogging, the activities we have done in class, the lectures by Professor Corrigan, and the discussions in our small groups have all connected together and taught me that I had not even been seeing the mere potential of what literature has to offer. There is so much meaning behind a text that does not necessarily present itself in a clear way, but can be led to by allowing yourself to ask questions. 

I love how the blogs are not required to be formally written. I love that we are actually challenged to take risks and not be scared to fail because of it. The purpose of blogging is to take us into deeper engagement with the text, and we have the freedom in our blogging to explore that in our own creative way. For example, painting, cutting the onion, and the cemetery have helped us engage deeper into the text which we then can get deeper and express what we feel through blogging about it. 

I feel that blogging has been working for me. It helps me read more critically because I have the intention of finding something meaningful and relatable to myself to write about. I read with more of a purpose and desire to read past what is simply written. I found that having a conversation with the text while reading it has been most successful. I write down questions and comments which helps lead to new ideas that go beyond the main theme or original intention of the text. 

I went to the Lakeview Roselawn and Tiger Flowers cemetery and stayed there for at least 40 minutes.

Post 9 - Onion

In class on Friday, we read a poem entitled “The Traveling Onion” by Naomi Shihab Nye. When I first read the poem to myself, I interpreted the literal meaning or theme of the poem which was simply about an onion. The opening lines were from Better Living Cookbook that talked about the onions origin and its traveling journey. As I read on, I basically got a bit on the texture of an onion, its appearance, and how its contribution to a meal or dish is forgotten. But, that is basically it.

Reading it a second time, the experiment with the onion itself, and reading it a third time each revealed something new. This helped illustrate what Professor Corrigan taught about the importance of reading literature more than once because each time, there is an opportunity to see something you did not realize the time before that if you allow challenge yourself to dig deeper! 

The experiment of cutting the onion helped me visualize the “crackly paper peeling”, the “pearly layers”, and the “onion falling apart on the chopping block”. The potent smell reminded you of how powerful it is, which we experienced the second we walked in the door. We even saw the tears from Professor Corrigan. 

By the end of the third reading, the onion exemplified a person. Many people feel insignificant, unseen, unimportant, and forgotten just like the onion. Both are often not appreciated for their true value.  An onion is like a person because everyone has a history that can be revealed once you peel back the layers. In order to get to know someone, you have to go past the surface and let them “fall apart.” Falling apart is letting someone in to reveal their inner thoughts, feelings, and journey.

After I my third interpretation of story, I related it back to the book of Redeeming Love.  I  will try my best to compare Redeeming Love and The Traveling Onion without giving away major details for those who have not read it yet. Sara was a prostitute against her own will from the time she was eight years old. The oppression of abandonment, her sense of worthlessness, the words spoken over her, the abuse, the lies, and her lack of no one to show her what real love was, were all factors of why she was the way she was. However, people automatically judged her for who she was without taking the time “peel back” the layers and take the time to see what was past that “crackly, peeling” surface. Did anyone every stop to wonder about her journey or her history? Or had they simply forgot or overlooked what could be behind the surface. 

"Commenting on texture of meat or herbal aroma but never on the translucence of onion,now limp, now divided,
or its traditionally honorable career: For the sake of others,
disappear” spoke something special to me. As a culinary student last year, I remember that an onion’s role is so important to a dish because it contributes so much flavor and aroma. Without the onion, the meat would not be so highly praised for its taste. Being translucent can be interpreted as being able to see past it. The meat receives all the glory in honor of the onion’s “honor” and selflessness, even receiving the credit for the onion’s aroma. The onion become translucent, overlooked, “broken”, and divided all for the sake of the something else. 

I think that I could blog about this poem in ten different ways. This was a perfect example of how poems do not have a specific "code to crack." As How To Read a Poem by Joseph Coulsona nd Peter Temes says, "playing or listening to a song for the hundredth time- if its  a great song- will yield new interpretation and discovery. So it is with great poetry." 

Post 8 - Joel

I really enjoyed class on Monday. We were given the opportunity to read Scripture as literature. Many people might have different opinions as to whether or not we can consider Scripture “literature”, but I find no reason why it is would not be considered as so. I am eager to take that opportunity, being at a Christian school, to be able to read, analyze, and discuss Scripture as part of class. The book of Joel was full of imagery. When I read it for homework, it already brought vivid images to my mind. However, when we were able to go outside and read the book over again in the presence of nature, it created a stronger sense of imagery. In class, we called these things such as fields, bountiful harvests, apple trees, barns, the sky, water brooks, and etc as part of ecology. The beautiful day outside probably deserves credit as to why I felt this way of reading and the setting to be so successful. 

We also discussed in class the idea of reading scripture as literature as the apocalypse, or revelation. When we read the Scripture, there is also something that God is desiring to reveal to us whether it is found in the ways of meaning, ways of reading it, or using your imagination. We can always find a way to go “deeper” into Scripture because we never truly receive all the revelation God has in store. 

One of my favorite verses was the Promise of the Spirit. “It will come about after this. That I will pour out my Spirit on all mankind; and your sons and daughters will prophesy, your old men will dream dreams, your young men will see visions. Even on the male and female servants, I will pour out my SPirit in those days.” This is just an encouraging revelation of what God desires for our future. 

Our last reading assignment was about how to find out what a text means. When we read something, we want it to mean something or help us gain something. We tend to look for a certain theme or moral that we define as the “message” of the text. When we are looking for just one idea or moral, we may be missing out on a lot more that it has to offer. One quote that i liked was “If we translate a poem into a statement, we risk losing the very qualities that made it a poem.” The other details that we kind of threw to the side may have had importance and great meaning as well. 

I believe that our tendency to do this is probably just because of simple laziness. We like it when they “cut to the chase” and “break it down” into one idea. We like to get the main point and move on without taking the time to really emerge ourself into a text and explore what all it has to say. Critical thinking is not the easiest way out, but I am sure that we would appreciate the details of the text if we allowed ourselves to take the time to “give them our ears.” 

Another quote that I liked was “One goal of conversation should be to open up ideas and possible interpretations of the story. Finding a moral is satisfying, but it often requires us to overgeneralize about the text in question.” So, when we try and find one moral to a story, there are no questions left to be asked. If we critically read it and try and find the moral, it leaves room for us to be unsure and ask questions. This leads to a chance for us to explore different ideas which is the ultimate goal of having our own “conversation” with the text.

Post 6

In class, we talked about the quote, “Not my idea of God, but God.” We all probably have our own unique idea about who God is. One time I was in a meeting and we all went around the room and defined in one word who God was to us personally. Out of about thirty people, the same word was probably only repeated once or twice. We all have experienced our own unique walk with the Lord, therefore each of us individually have experienced God in our own way. We have walked through different storms with Him, have celebrated different things with Him, and had different intimate times with Him. 

Ultimately, the same Jesus that I serve is the same Jesus that people all across the world serve and love. With everyone having their own "idea" of God can be problematic because we may not seek to find who God is for ourselves because so many people have already "defined" God for us or we have lose sight of who God truly is because of people's "false" ideas influencing our own. I do not want God to be an idea, but absolute truth. It can almost be comparable to gossip about a person, even if it is someone talking good about someone. Your friends may tell you all about how "Sally" is and you build up these certain idea and image about who she is,. Wouldn't you want to get to know her for yourself so that you can know that your beliefs about her are based on a relationship and true facts? 

If we honestly asked ourselves where we attained our own idea of what God really is, would it be merely an idea or who God truly is? Do we imagine God as what we hope for Him to be? Or want Him to be? We cannot allow ourselves to serve and love our own mental image of God because then we will be like C.S. Lewis in a Grief Observed, simply loving our own thought of who someone is. Our feelings for God could become mere deceiving illusions. If we were to truly let God reveal to us who He is rather than letting others or ourselves define His being, it would radically strengthen our love for God and our faith in Him. 

I really liked Professor Corrigan’s quote, “The integrity of your faith is not measured by how certain your answers are but more by how authentic your questions are.” We tend to believe that the people who can speak eloquently and seem to have the most wisdom about God have the strongest faith. However, i find that people who are continually questioning are those who are desperate for more of God and those who have learned that knowledge about God is never-ending. In my opinion, a person who is not scared to ask a lot of questions is always most successful in all areas. Pride is not faith. 

Post 5 - A Grief Observed

For the past week, we have been reading C.S Lewis’ A Grief Observed. Reading about someone’s honest thoughts and emotions in such a vulnerable point in his life is truly admirable. He says things and questions things that people do not like to admit crossed their minds because people’s opinions matter too much. However, a tragedy such as his probably could erase, eliminate normal feelings about people’s opinions. Losing someone shakes your thoughts, your beliefs, your priorities, all of you. It changes you.  C.S. Lewis said, “Is it rational to believe in a bad God? Anyway, in a God so bad as all that?” It can cause you to doubt your faith, lose hope, or question who you are. He may not have been thinking rationally or even have regretted saying this statement, but this tragedy sparked questions in his heart. 

The idea of death is so distant from us, because all of us have obviously not encountered it. It is something that we all cannot know anything for sure about until we experience it. However, we can know what it is to experience the emotions felt after losing someone, which in many cases means losing part of yourself.

I know what it is like to experience the impact of losing someone you care about. However, I cannot say that I can completely relate to C.S. Lewis since he lost more than a friend. He lost his wife. 

When I suddenly lost my friend who was only sixteen to a tragic car accident, I found myself thinking a lot of the same things C.S. Lewis shares with us. C.S. Lewis was relatable since He let himself be so open about his doubtfulness and lack of answers.