Quite an Adventure!

My time in Texas was absolutely wonderful. We had a Thanksgiving feast, attended a Renaissance Festival, and as you may or may not already know, I got to meet Everly face to face! It was a wonderful experience, even if the chick strips were a little slimy. :) Hop on over to her blog, as she recounts it better than I could.

I'll be blogging later this week about graphics, my fantastic Aunt, and that which looms over my Monday morning; enrollment.

A Wonderful Feeling

Walking past the laundry room, thinking you need to put in another load, taking a look at the hamper and realizing...

Hey! I already did that! :)

Happy Thanksgiving, everyone! See you this weekend.

Hmm.

This post as been in drafts for a long time, because I haven't felt entirely comfortable posting it. It seems like an odd time of year to be thinking on it, too, but there are a myriad of reasons it's at the forefront of my mind. I haven't brought it up before now because I in no way want to make it the primary focus of this blog. But I feel like I ought to come clean about it anyhow.


What's that? "Get on with it?" Alright.


I am an ex witch.


Yes, that's right. I'm living, breathing proof that what you consume in the media can and will affect your spirituality. However, it's not exactly the obvious choice that sent me over the edge. I will admit, years of Harry Potter reading probably primed me to be more receptive to such things, but I will also say I hardly think it's fair to assume J.K. Rowling is deliberately trying to lead children to Satan.


No, the kicker for me came when watching two of the more recent (I say recent, it was about 1999.) Scooby-Doo movies. The newer releases are a far cry from back in the day when everything was given a logical explaination in the end. The first one, Scooby Doo on Zombie Island, featured a pair of solitary women who worshipped a pagan cat god. But even they were bad guys in the end.


Sooby Doo and the Witch's Ghost is probably the single biggest piece of pagan propaganda I have ever seen. There was obviously someone involved in the writing process of both films who has a strong pagan affiliation. The movie, which takes place in a quaint Massachusetts town during the fall, is filled with pro-pagan themes. Of course, we get the requisite Puritain bashing, but there are other things. The distinction is made between "witches" which are evil, and "Wiccans" which are merely kind, misunderstood herb healers who have the power to cast good spells. The conflict is actually resolved by Thorn, one of the female characters, reciting a spell from a book.

It wasn't tremendously popular and was a straight-to-DVD release, so it slid under the controversy radar as far as I know.

Anyway, the summer before seventh grade, a combination of being home by myself in the summer, lax parental controls on the computer, and the power of search engines had me looking at all sorts of things I ought not to.

To be fair, red flags went up immediately. After all, I was raised in a small town and had attended a Christian school, and later a Catholic one. References to "horned gods" certainly had me shaking as I thought of the implications of what I could be doing. Not to mention the so-called "rituals" seemed incredibly hoakey. But time desensitized me to such things, and after enough exposure, I bought my first book.

I won't go into all the details here, but just let me say this. It is a very short trip from dabbling in magic to getting in way, way over your head. It can all seem quaint and cottagey at first, working with herbs and charming wind chimes. And then maybe the unavoidably 80s glamour of standing before a candle flame in flowing black clothing catches you. I'm going to make a strong statement here, so skip over it if you don't think you can handle it, but here it is.

***Begin Statement***

There is real evil in this world. I have seen it, I have touched it, I have heard it speak to me. Witchcraft can start out in such a way as it seems harmless, but it all leads to the same place. It leads, unavoidably, to the Devil. All he wants to do is destroy you. And witchcraft is one of the single fastest ways to bring that about.

***End Statement***

In the end, I would just like to say to any contemplating it that come across this; don't do it. Even when I didn't consider myself a Christian yet, I was terrified of some of the things I had experienced. Witchcraft is the ultimate example of our society's belief that we are accountable to ourselves alone. You are playing with things that you cannot even begin to comprehend, with a purely evil power that dates back millenia. And any book, website, or movie that tries to convince you that your weak, frail, emotional human form can in any way tame and control it is leading you to disaster.

If anyone wants to know more about my personal experiences, or needs to talk about such things, feel free to contact me at thepeachmagnolia@gmail.com.

Weekend Musings

I spent some time with Dad this weekend, and we had a lovely conversation over catfish sandwiches at a restaurant downtown. It was our first chance to talk about the election since it all happened. He had some wonderful insights as a former Marine.

He said when you're in the military, you realize that the President is your boss. It doesn't matter if you voted for him, if you like him, or anything like that. You owe him loyalty and respect as a citizen of his country. It's a good thing to remember.

In addition to scouring the city for a VCR, we also popped in Petsmart for a few minutes. I got acquainted with an interesting fish called a Ghost Catfish. It's very bizarre, you can see right through its translucent skin to its bones! You can count the ribs that stem from its vertebrae, it's very amazing. And once again I wonder how in the world evolution could explain a thing like that.

Still working on my graphics, hope to have them up soon. It may not be this week though, since we're leaving for Texas this Wednesday to have Thanksgiving at my aunt's! I can't wait to see everyone, especially the babies.

I think I might be...

Calvinist. I'm not entirely certain, I'll have to read a bit more.

My search for a church has been rather disappointing. I found a Baptist group that claimed to be "family integrated" but still adhered to a lot of mainstream ideas about child training and Sunday School and the like. There's a Presbyterian church up the road that has a delightful little building and a small congregation; I've been in it before for a vocal recital. I think I may give it a try. And still, I'm considering a small Latin Mass community on the other side of town, because I'm not entirely sure I'm ready to give up the faith of my birth just like that.

All of this is, of course, coupled with the constant digestion of both new and old texts on doctrine, with the Bible at its heart.

In less heavy news...last night I organized the laundry room! It was desperately in need of it, and looks lovely now. :)

Coming Soon...

We've got a wonderful, Ebay-purchased version of Adobe Photoshop that we installed recently. Mom has put me in charge of getting the hang of it, and it's been more than a little fun. I've discovered that I have quite a knack for it.

So, coming soon, a nice little batch of banners and graphics, with an antifeminist twist!

Trying Not to Cry

When I briefly mentioned the desire to be a stay-at-home Mom to my mother this morning...

"Children need to go to school."

"So what? Are you just not going to use your own God-given gifts? What if my purpose in life was to have you, so you could share your talents. What happens if you don't?"

"You only get involvement in a child's life for about 13 years. After that, they don't want to be the center of your attention. What about the other 60+ years of your life when you don't have kids? What are you going to do then?"

"You want to know what I think? I think you're afraid of being out in the world. It just feels like the safe path, to have someone else out in the world for you and taking care of you."

"It's copping-out."

Culminating in an angry, resigned,

"It's your life, do whatever the *beep* you want with it."

On Conspiracy Theories, Worry, and The End of the World as We Know It.

"I love peace and quiet. I hate politics and turmoil. " ~ Queen Victoria

If I allow myself to become too wrapped up in matters of politics, I go crazy. I can't sleep, I chew my nails, among other things. I absolutely cannot function properly when I allow myself to dwell too strongly on such issues. I'm convinced that women are not designed to handle such things, and that is part of why we are so suited to the home. Also, as followers of God we are not to be of this world. How can we set ourselves apart from it when we allow ourselves to constantly fear it?

God is sovereign over all things. Whether it is a salvation or a judgement, or something in between, it obviously fit into God's plans for this country to have Barack Obama elected. I pray for him every day, that he will have the wisdom to lead this country. I may not agree with him, but he will be my President, too.

Words like "secession" and "dictatorship" are flying around, as are comparisons of Obama to certain much-despised men of history. To compare Obama to Hitler, in my opinion, is not only foolish, but demeans the gravity of Hitler's memory itself. I see none of the mentally unstable, hate-based rhetoric in Obama, regardless of how socialist his ideas are.

Also, as to the end of the world that so many people assume is immanent...

I could take a long time describing how every time something goes wrong in the world, or a leader they don't like gets elected, certain groups of people like to cry "Apocalypse." But I won't. However, I will say this.

We do not know they day or the hour. No, we don't. I don't care how sure you are, who told you when it is, or why you think that way. We are not meant to know, precisely because if we DID know, we would all go mad. Not only that, but we would hide our true colors in an effort to "make right with God" before the end. Neither you nor I have any idea when this world is going to fall to pieces.

Therefore, wasting time worrying about it, or trying to pinpoint it, is taking away valuable time we could be using to do work for the Lord that is actually useful. He will provide, no matter what, or who, happens.

Surprise, Surprise

Take the Quiz here!

No wonder Col. Brandon is my favorite Austen hero.

(Found on Day by Day, Lydia's blog.)

Once Upon a Time...

There was a 13 year old girl. On the first day of school in sixth grade, she noticed a new teacher among the junior high students. He was an older man, with silver hair. He wore a dress shirt, tie, and slacks, and stood taller than all during the gym assembly's pledge of allegiance. She noticed the way he held his fist to his side, and immediately pegged him as a Marine.

Sure enough, she was right. When she got to his class that morning, the dry-witted teacher proceeded to tell the class he was their worst nightmare. Then he spent the hour recounting his long life, his long marriage (41 years this year!), his service as a pilot in the Marines, eventually rising tot he rank of Major, and how he wound up teaching social studies in a Catholic middle school.

The teacher had a no-nonsense way of teaching history. Even though he had to deal with the textbooks provided to him, he rarely used them. Instead he lectured, telling things the books never dared to think on and correcting biased notions. In addition to his regular duties, he also persuaded the principal to place framed copies of the Constitution and the Declaration of Independence in the main stairwell for all to see and be reminded of daily. He wore his dress uniform every Veteran's Day, and loved to show off his officer's sword. And he always seemed to be the only teacher capable of fixing the copier.

In eighth grade they began to study American history, and his passion for the subject became clearer than ever. It was an election year, and tensions were high between the children of staunch Republicans and the next generation of neo-hippies. In every issue, he urged us all to evaluate everything according to the precepts of our Religion and the government outlined in the Constitution. Nothing, from the Civil War to Women's Suffrage, went unexamined by the microscope mind of the Major.

In addition, the private conversations they had, during days when the class was finished early, were things she would treasure for years to come. She learned of the teacher's admiration for Winston Churchill, the story of how he met his wife, and how he had been present at the fall of Saigon. Her respect for him and the convictions he held only grew.

For most of the students it was just another class. But not for the girl. For her, it forever changed the way she thought.

Major Whitten, I am forever grateful to you. You turned a complacent young girl into an active participant in her nation, her education, and her life. To put it mildly, I am in your everlasting debt.

Thank you.

Release

The first few days of freedom from the music I threw out have been fantastic. I've barely thought about it at all. I've replaced it with film scores, hymns, classical pieces, and the occasional downloaded lecture. I've also picked up embroidery again to give my hands something to do, as I'm more able to think about two things at once.

Little by little, I feel the Holy Spirit convicting me. Things come to mind that I hadn't thought of before, and I feel contentment coming. However, there is unrest as well.

For one thing, I'm increasingly conflicted denominationally speaking. I pray that God will lead me to the path He intends me to follow.

And for another, my eyes have been opened to just how shaky the ground my family is on is. It feels like the house built on sand, and the rains loom on the horizon. I am constantly in prayer that God will use me to change the hearts of my parents from devotion to the world to devotion to Him. But the New Age "church" my mother attends is poisonous, and Jay goes to a "Christian" college that teaches some of the most corrupt doctrine I've ever heard and is littered with incompetant teachers. Needless to say, it does nothing for his opinion of conservative doctrine.

It is a daunting task that cuts to the very foundations of faith. It would be hard enough if my parents were strong, but merely misguided, Catholics or Protestants. But it runs deeper than that. Before I can even begin to convince them of the roles of men and women or God's design for the family, I have to convince them that the Word of God as handed down through generations is not the fabrications of a cartel of rich old men, nor is it irrelevant in the modern world.

It's not something I can do on my own strength, I know. I pray about often during the day.

But no matter what, I remind myself that He is sovereign. And I am more likely to win hearts for Him by going about my duties cheerfully than I am through any theological tirade.

Vexed

I really don't know why I didn't see this coming.



Shortly after my post about music earlier this year, my heart hardened. I began to be angry at religion and God for making me feel conflicted in the first place. I bounced, once again, toward the other end of the spectrum. And the way was frought with thorns.



Whether you despise or love secular music, you can't deny that God has said that he is Lord, and there are to be no others before him. Well, I had made myself an idol of this music.



My all-consuming love for and affinity with this music was, quite frankly, standing between God and myself. Whether or not all rock music is bad is beside the point; in my personal experience, I had made a god out of it.



I used to scoff at those far wiser than I when they worried that listening to such music, which is very bleak and angry, wasn't making my depression worse. But now I'm not so sure. I think it's no coincidence that my darkest hours were soundtracked by it.



But the kicker came on the way home from voting. When that awful word fell out of my mouth, I gasped and apologized profusely. And then I began to think, if I'm comfortable talking so around my mother, who is to say I won't around my husband or my children? What hypocrisy will I commit when I try to gaurd them from the negative things this world espouses, but am steeped in it myself? How can I tell my girls they are precious and treasured when the music I listen to says some pretty clear things about the worth of women?



I strive to be a lady, and ladies simply do not speak this way. Ladies are not desensitized to the foulest of profanities. As a lady, I can no longer listen to this, at least for a time. As a lady, I can no longer make a god out of a man and his music. I feel certain this is the right course. It will be interesting to see if I actually miss any of this when it's gone.



And so I open my iTunes, scroll down to N, take a deep breath, and take out the trash.

In Fair Eureka...

Eureka Springs really is a wonderful little town, if you watch your step. (Literally and figuratively, they have some of the steepest staircases I've ever seen!) I'm considering either posting, or maybe putting together an Ebook for Christians wanting to vacation there. It has some very good Christian attractions, and some gorgeous old historic church buildings. But it's pretty much the "misfit bin" as one local puts it. If nothing else, it provides beauty unrivaled, and I hope to take you on a little tour here. :)



Here's T, our beloved Shih-Tzu, all ready to go!


Here we are just across the Arkansas border, taking a breather.


The sign for our charming little cottage...


...And my very soft bed.


A view of the magnificent Crescent Hotel from the gazebo on East Mountain, right up the road from the cottage.


Spring Street buildings.


The taffy machine at Sweet's Fudge Kitchen. (I highly reccommend the peppermint)


The Flatiron building. The Quilt Shop downstairs has some of the prettiest demitasse teacups I've ever seen!


The Basin Park Hotel, built in 1905. (For reference, it's to the left of the Flatiron.)


Pepper the working bunny. He'll hand you your receipt, bag, and change, coins and all! Plus, he gives bunny kisses.


The "Grand Old Lady" herself, the Crescent! (Built in 1886)


Our carriage tour driver and her adorable Yorkie, Princeton.


I'd be remiss if I didn't show you a real spring! This is called the Grotto, and it's a little cave that's always around 62 degrees! T went down to investigate, of course.


As you can see, he was worn out!

I managed to make it home with a book of paper dolls from the 1895 and 1896 Boston Herald issues, and a silver sixpence in a drawstring bag to save for my wedding! (Lord willing.) You know what they say...

Something old, something new
Something borrowed, something blue
And a silver sixpence in her shoe.

Vacation, Voting, and Vexation

My dear parents and I are bound tomorrow morning for Eureka Springs, a gorgeous little town in NW Arkansas. I hope to have many lovely pictures to show you upon our return Tuesday night.

What??? Tuesday??? But that's VOTING DAY!!!!!

Yes, it is, my friends, and this is my very first election ever. We could get into a debate about the vote for households vs. individuals, but since this blog isn't for that at this stage, and voting is my Constitutional right and duty, we shall just focus on the fact that I'm extremely proud to be a part of the history of our country.

This morning (way early) Mom and I hauled ourselves down to the county polling place for in-person absentee voting. (Jay hadn't had thought or had time to renew his address on his ID card, so he had to drive way out to where we used to live.) By the time we got there at 7:30, the sun had not yet risen and already the line wound along the building, through the parking lot, and down the street for a grand total of about four blocks. We stood in line until about 10:45 waiting, and then we cast our votes for the next President of the United States! As well as various local candidates and issues.

Let me make it clear that I'm not terribly fond of either of this year's offerings. But, Oklahoma makes it very difficult for third party candidates to get on the ticket, and it's illegal to write in names. So...I did the best that I could in the circumstances I was given. Not voting, in my opinion, is NOT an option.

As for the vexation, well...after I come back a rather serious post shall materialize. Last night I asked God, in the words of a great woman, to "hit me over the head with a two by four" if this path, a path I'm often conflicted about, is what He asks of me in this life.

Well, on the way home from voting, He did. A word popped out of my mouth that just mortified and astounded me by how easily it rolled off my tongue. In front of my mother! It's not at all a word a lady, or a gentleman for that matter, should ever, ever say.

Suffice it to say I know exactly where this word came from and exactly how I became desensitized to it.