J9's Property

There is an ongoing debate on Facebook (at least, in my newsfeed - don't know about yours...) which really is decades old. The 2 main sides of the debate are quite polarized, each with vehement arguments and opinions as to who is right, and who is a heretic.

Ah, yes.

The old "Hymns" vs. "Modern Worship Songs" debate.

I have done my best to keep out of it. I certainly have my own views, but people don't want to hear my perspective. Probably because (a) it's biblical, and (b) they wouldn't agree with the premise anyway.

"Don't have anything to do with foolish and stupid arguments, because you know they produce quarrels." (2 Timothy 2:23)

Of course, there are those who would immediately counter with the "this is out of context" argument, or be quite offended that I would consider such a seemingly important topic as music style in worship to be "foolish and stupid".

But really, it is. Foolish and stupid, that is.

Paul goes on to state in verse 24, "The Lord's servant must not quarrel". What does this whole hymns vs worship songs debate result in? You got it: quarrels. Of the worst kind. "My music is best, it is more biblical than yours!" "Yours is irrelevant to today's youth! We have to target the youth!" "I can't worship to your music, I can't stand it!" "I can't stand your music, it's boring!"

There is a much bigger question to ask: What does God think? Does He have a preference regarding the kind of songs we sing?

I would dare to answer that question with a resounding "NO."

"Speak to one another with psalms, hymns and spiritual songs. Sing and make music in your heart to the Lord..." (Ephesians 5:19)

Did you get that? All styles of music are acceptable to God *if* you are making music in your heart to the Lord. For The Lord does not listen to what is coming out of our mouths, or our instruments, he is listening to what is coming from our hearts. If we are just making music because we like that style of music and we enjoy it, then we are no more worshiping that if we were reading a romance novel. True worship comes from a contrite heart, one that is focussed on The Lord, not on whether we like this tune, or if the chord structure is interesting or boring, or if this was written by Charles Wesley or Chris Tomlin.

In the grand scheme of things, the style of music doesn't matter. To argue that hymns are better than worship songs for "true worship" is a foolish and stupid argument, because everyone has their own preferences. God's only requirement for worship to be acceptable is that we bring our best from our heart and lay it at His feet.

If there was one thing that Paul emphasized repeatedly in his letters, it was the necessity of unity in the church. If we allow debates, such as the style of music used in worship, to divide our churches as deeply as they have been, then there is no way the church can survive. There is no possible way that every member of every church is going to appreciate every song that is sung in a particular service. It just isn't going to happen. The challenge is to not allow our focus to be taken away from worshiping, by a difference in personal preferences.

Because if we continually allow that to happen, the divided church will fall.

Wow, I guess it's been a while! But I think I've had some pretty good reasons for being away from the blogosphere, not the least of which was a very old dinosaur of a computer. Well, we splurged this Christmas, so no more excuses!

It's been a couple of years of significant change. Change which has been quite hellish at times. When I look back to what my life looked like 2 years ago, I'm astounded at how much has happened in such a little time.

But, as Rick Warren said in The Purpose Driven Life, "God's not concerned about our comfort, He's concerned about our character." Well, if the events of the last 2 years were meant to build character, I hope my character has built enough for now. I need a break!

Or, as a recent Facebook meme stated, "Dear Whatever Doesn't Kill Me: I'm strong enough now. Really."

Personal experiences aside, there is a certain topic of debate that has really been bothering me. I will cover it in my next post (which will NOT be 2 years from now), and there are other topics that have been percolating in the ol' brain.

But for now, I have to go help change a bum and put kids to bed.....

Until next time!...

It's very true what they say, you know: you can choose your friends, but you can't choose your relatives.

If you have a friend who does not treat you the way you feel you should be treated, or behaves in an inappropriate manner in your presence, you can end the friendship and choose to not associate with them any more. You can choose to stop calling them, stop hanging out with them, it can actually be relatively easy to cut them out of your life and leave them behind.

But what about family?

Not so easy.

I'm sure there are those of you who are saying to yourselves, "well I really don't like Cousin So-and-so, so I just don't associate with them anymore", or "Uncle What's-his-name was really mean to me, so I just don't talk to him anymore." That's fine and dandy for some relatives. But what about immediate family? What if the offensive person is a parent, grandparent, or sibling?

Well, a sibling can be relatively easy. I know of plenty of siblings who don't get along with each other; they just try to avoid each other as much as they can, and pretend to get along and be civil at family gatherings.

All well and good.

But what do you do when it's a parent?

It's really quite heart-wrenching. You're torn between the love and loyalty you feel for a parent who sacrificed and gave of themselves so you could have the life you do, and the pain you feel when their behaviour toward you is hurtful. You can't cut them out of your life like you could an unrelated acquaintance, but to maintain contact with them means putting yourself in the position of being hurt and angry over and over.

It's worse when you've tried to explain to them repeatedly that what they are doing is hurtful, but they just don't understand, and continue to behave the way they have for years, all the while placing the blame on you without acknowledging their own contribution to the mess. (of course, let's not forget the guilt trips) It becomes a true love-hate relationship: you love them because they are your parents, but you hate being around them when they cause fights and arguments.

Throw in a grandchild or 2, and it just raises the whole mess to a new level. On one hand, you want your children to know their grandparents; on the other hand, the last thing you want is for them to be exposed to the fighting that inevitably erupts when everyone is in the same room.

Talk about being caught between a rock and a hard place.

It's something I've had to witness for several years now. I really don't know what the solution is, and as much as I want to help the situation, I know there's really nothing I can do. It's a toxic atmosphere that doesn't show any signs of improving any time in the near future, and believe me when I say, it's painful to watch.

If only it was as simple as cutting the ties and walking away. But when have family dynamics ever been simple?...

It's a question I often find myself asking these days. I truly don't recognize my life! Since when am I a mother of 2 kids???

I don't think I'm necessarily having an identity crisis, or mid-life crisis, or anything like that, it's just a case of coming to terms with how my life has changed over the last 3 years or so. Especially as Connor gets older - I've pretty much gotten used to the mother-of-small-infant routine, but this whole older-toddler thing is something else altogether. There are times when I just find myself staring at Connor in amazement. He's truly becoming a little person.

At least I'm starting to recognize myself a bit more these days. I was just getting back to feeling like myself when I had a slight interruption known as an emergency appendectomy...thankfully everything seems to have healed well, and my energy level and strength are continuing to return to normal levels. We even went camping this past week and I survived with only a small dose of total exhaustion about half-way through the week. ;)

But to be honest, did I really, truly, ever believe that I actually would be a wife and mother some day? The more I think about it, it's like it was just something that other people had the chance to do, and I would live out my days as a single, child-less woman who did her own thing and lived vicariously through friends and family. And yet, here I sit with a husband of nearly 10 years and 2 wee babes sleeping upstairs in my cookie-cutter house in suburbia.

Don't get me wrong, I certainly don't dislike my life. I'm just finding myself constantly adjusting to the fact that this is indeed my life. Maybe the fact that I was always so socially awkward and unpopular as a kid and teenager contributed to the disbelief that I would ever have that "normal" life that I am now living. I often wonder if those who knew me back in my youth would be surprised to see where (and who!) I am now...

Well, kinda...

Yes, we have a new little one - Zachary was born right on his due date (much to the surprise of many people who insisted he would come early, including me!), and is now 3 months old and growing like a weed!
He was (and still is!) quite the cheeky little fellow, although "little" is relative. At nearly a full pound bigger than his big brother, Zachary quickly earned the title of "Big Little Brother". (in fact, the first words I heard in the delivery room as he was being born were, "Look at those cheeks!!")
He looks enough like Connor that you can tell they are brothers, but he is definitely his own little person, with his own personality.
Now that we are (finally!) beginning to settle into a routine, I'm hoping to write a little more often. There have been a few things percolating in the mind lately, some things funny, others disturbing, and some that just make you say, "hmmmmm...."

As for me personally, I'm hoping in the next few months to kind of find myself again. Not sure if I really lost myself entirely over the last year or so, but I feel a little at loose ends, if you know what I mean.

This could be an interesting journey...

I'm not sure anyone still reads this blog...it's been so long since I posted, and even longer since I posted regularly...

Life just seems to get in the way these days. As if being a wife and mother with a full-time outside-the-home job weren't enough, I'm about 5 weeks away from meeting our second little one. As a result, any time I do have at the end of the day is usually spent crashed on the couch!

I'm hoping to get back in the habit of writing again when I'm off on mat leave - the rare times when both kids are asleep, or maybe one is asleep and the other at daycare...I hope...but there are so many things I'm hoping to do while I'm off, I'm afraid I'll be even busier than I am now!

At least I'll have my body and some semblance of an energy level back....

....I hope....

Am I ever glad I took typing in high school.

Given the amount of typing I do these days, it would drive me nuts if I hadn't learned how to type quickly - my job would take 3 times as long, emailing would be downright painful (it's painful enough just watching my husband try to type!), and I don't think I'd even bother with online chatting.

It really seems that our lives these days are centered around our computers. Forget the telephone, everyone is emailing, online chatting, texting...

Never mind the lost art of letter writing. Who sits down and writes anything by hand anymore? Too slow, too time-consuming, we must always be in a hurry to get done so we can move on to the next task...

Does anyone really pay attention to handwriting anymore? It used to be that your handwriting said so much about you - if you were a detailed perfectionist, an artistic free spirit, or a doctor (which meant your handwriting was entirely illegible) Now I'm not even sure they teach handwriting in schools anymore - don't they all have their own laptops?

It really is a lost art. I remember as I was growing up, I was constantly experimenting with my handwriting, trying to get it just the way I liked it. I think I may have been almost into my twenties before I stopped making little adjustments to the way I wrote a "d", or a "j". These days, my handwriting isn't nearly as neat as it used to be. I've gotten so used to the speed of typing, that I get impatient with hand-writing, and as a result the hand-writing has gotten very messy, almost illegible even to myself at times.

It sure isn't pretty.

One thing I love to do, is read old letters. Some written by myself, some not...it's very interesting not only to read what was written, but to see how it was written. Some people's handwriting can really surprise you. I'd grown up with the notion that all men/boys had messy handwriting. Their hands were bigger, fingers thicker, and they just didn't care if their handwriting was, well, pretty. But I remember so many times, getting a cheque from my grandparents at Christmas time, and being surprised to see the signature of my Grandfather in very neat, proper handwriting. I often had to check the signature to see if it was my grandfather or grandmother who had written the cheque, their handwriting was that similar! There was also a guy that I dated (many!) years ago, who had neater and more artistic-looking handwriting than most girls I knew.

Something inside me really wants to get back to writing by hand. Not sure what to write yet, but I have always had that oh-so-romantic notion of keeping a journal. Didn't all us girls think about that when we were young? Of course, we called them our "diaries" back then. "Journal" just sounds much more mature, more grown-up. You always read in novels about these journals kept by women that are passed down to their descendents, who read them with great interest. Should I be so conceited as to think that someday, my children or even grandchildren might be interested in reading what I might have had to say?

(Then again, what is this blog for??)

But once again, it's about the handwriting. Maybe someday, someone might see more of me in my handwriting than they might in a bunch of kilobytes on a computer server somewhere. Type script seems so...impersonal. Isn't that why there are so many fonts? Aren't we really trying to find a font that says more about ourselves than, say, the generic-ness of "Times New Roman"? Even "Arial" is pretty bland. Maybe I'll start hand-writing my blog entries, then scanning them into the computer...

Who am I kidding? I can't even keep a blog consistently, let alone a hand-written journal. Over the years, I have bought so many journals with the intention of writing in them regularly, and they all sit with only a few pages filled. (and many pages torn out - sometimes I end up writing things I would never want anyone to read!) I guess there's just such a romantic pull to the whole idea of keeping a journal. I would have to slow down, take the time to think about what I would write, before I write it. (no backspace key!) I'd have to be patient with my hands, they can only write so fast. And they can only write so long before the writer's cramp sets in.

Oh, the things we take for granted in the computer age. But at what cost? We're all in such a hurry these days, we get impatient and downright ticked-off if the computer is just slightly slower than instantaneous, we lay on the horn and yell our fool heads off if the person in front of us doesn't peel off the mark when the traffic light turns green, or when they don't drive at least 20km/hr above the speed limit...

But, maybe if I decide to revive my penmanship as penmanship, not type-man-ship, it would help me to slow down a bit, perhaps I'll see a few things I might have missed, maybe I'll appreciate some of the smaller things in life. Maybe it will encourage me to take some "me time", time away from the hectic day-to-day life of a wife and mom who has a full-time job outside the home.

Time to write.

Time to breathe.