“In the world it is called tolerance
but in hell it is called despair.
The sin that believes in nothing,
cares for nothing, seeks to know nothing,
enjoys nothing, finds purpose in nothing,
lives for nothing
but remains alive because there is
nothing which it would die for.”

~Dorothy Sayers

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I just read an article about a study that shows religion is good for kids:

“John Bartkowski, a Mississippi State University sociologist, and his colleagues asked parents and teachers of more than 16,000 kids, most of them first-graders, to rate how much self-control they believed the kids had, how often they exhibited poor or unhappy behavior and how well they respected and worked with their peers.”

I stopped reading after a couple of paragraphs just to throw in my un-biased 2 cents worth of pre-conceived notions. First of all, I think that the word “religion” is sort of a cop-out for people who don’t feel that they need The Relationship. Religion is just the kind of nicey-nice safe sounding generalization that one can throw into a conversation to make themselves feel like a good person while sneakily getting away with not really beieving in anything. It’s also kind of similar to how people use the word “spiritual” or “spirituality”. Sure, one can claim an experience as “religious” or “spiritual” and then write it off, thinking that they’ve done their duty or filled their goodness quota; but if it never reached their heart or renewed their mind or made them strive after reconciliation with the One who gave them life- what is it good for? That’s right- absolutely nothing. Onward…

“The researchers compared these scores to how frequently the children’s parents said they attended worship services, talked about religion with their child and argued about religion in the home. The kids whose parents regualarly attended religious services — especially when both parents did so frequently — and talked with their kids about religion were rated by both parents and teachers as having better self-control, social skills and approaches to learning than kids with non-religious parents.”

I think it comes down to faith. The “religious” parents believe in something, and put that faith into action by going to church with their families (and hopefully not just attending, but actually getting involved somehow) and also discussing what it is that they’re learning, and how it applies to their lives.

These parents realize that there is something bigger than themselves in this world, that they are not the be all and end all, that they are being held responsible for their actions, and that they had better live accordingly. If this is indeed what they believe, than a big part of the actions they are responsible for are their children. In the case of my own parents with me and my sister, they are responsible to “raise us up in the way we should go…”, ultimately teaching us that there is Someone bigger than us, that we are not our own, that we are on this earth for a purpose (not our own purposes), and that we, too, are being held responsible for our actions. We are ultimately here to glorify the Lord, not ourselves. It might not sound appealing, but I have seen examples of both, and I know Who I would rather glorify.

Are the non-religious parents giving their kids anything to live for — besides themselves? I’m not saying they don’t want what’s best for their kids, but what do they really have that they can give them? Money can’t buy love or salvation. Maybe they let their kids do anything they want. Sure, it sounds like more fun — and it probably is; but only for a little while. There is nothing fulfilling or satisfying about living for yourself. I know that lots of people trick themselves into thinking there is, while turning a blind eye to the wretched emptiness of their own soul.

At this point you might be wondering what this has to do with the study at all. Actually, it’s everything. What I believe in has an effect on every single thing in my life, from my attitude and my friends to my grades and habits. I am definitely not perfect in any way, shape or form; but why try for something impossible? I would rather strive for excellence — which I know is attainable — in my job, in school, and in my life.

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This weekend I watched a movie that Princess FlickerFeather let me borrow called “Howl’s Moving Castle”. It is an anime by Hayao Miyazaki that’s based on the book by Diana Wynne Jones. I haven’t really watched much anime aside from the Pokemon craze that hit my school back in 5th or 6th grade, but I liked this movie. It was pretty entertaining. Howl himself is very vain, and at one point he proclaims:

“I give up. I see no reason to go on living if I can’t be beautiful.”
Heehee! I’d recommend it.

I also just finished a book that Princess FlickerFeather(again) let me borrow. See, she’s the one that’s big into movies and books, and she tells me what to read or see, because I really don’t pay that much attention. I haven’t been to the library in forever. Anyway! The book is called “Kissing Adrien”, and its by Siri L. Mitchell. It takes place in France, and its romantic and hilarious! Its the kind of book that I didn’t want to end, but the end was wonderful, so its okay.

And now for something completely different! (Hi, Carol!)

Monday nights are practice nights for the little drama that PFF and I are putting together. Tonight was no different; we drove to church and practiced with about ten other kids. It’s going really well, btw. Anyway, in my car I have this little stuffed elephant with really long arms and legs- you know, the kind with velcro on the feet so that you can hang it around your neck. His name is Winston, and he usually hangs on the armrests between the front seats. Well, tonight after practice I came out and got in my car and something was wrong. Winston was sitting on my steering wheel, his arms wrapped around it to keep him on; his beady little eyes looking at me. It freaked me out. What kind of crazy person would scare a little girl with her own stuffed elephant?? At least they didn’t cut his head off and send it to me.

At this point I know you’re all probably incredibly worried about my safety, but it’s alright, I figured out who did it. And it’s the kind of person that likes to play with other people’s minds like a drunk kitten. I bet you can guess, too.

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…So therefore, I must write.

I’m sitting in my pajamas on the couch listening to my sister practicing a new language. She can speak it pretty fast, and I can only make out some of the words; but for the most part it sounds like this: “buckbuck buck BUUUCK, buck buckbuck buck buck.” I’m not sure what it means. Maybe she’s turning into a chicken.

I’m also watching the bird tear apart an old newspaper we rolled up and stuck in her cage. She’s crazy about it. All day she chews on it. In the morning when my mom takes the blanket off her cage, she’s already tearing away. There’s now newspaper confetti all over the floor.

I have today off, but my cousin is coming over for a foil. She’s been blonde for a few years, but last time we put in some lowlights and it turned out gorgeous. We’re going to do it again today. It’s also my day to cook, and after that, Tiger Lilly and I have to go to practice a drama that Princess FlickerFeather is putting together and I am assistant director of. It’s to a song by Third Day called “Thief”, and it’s about the thief that was on the cross next to Jesus who ended up in Paradise. Bet you can’t guess when that one’s going to be performed!

So anyway, I’ll see y’all at Keeg’s a week from Thursday!

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Hi guys! I know it’s been a long time; my dad never misses a chance to remind me. Life around here has been hectic lately, and I really don’t think I have anything to write about anyway, but he doesn’t buy it.

Hmmm…What can I talk about?

We (okay, I mean my dad) went out and bought our Christmas tree last Saturday. Tonight it was finally put in it’s stand. We probably won’t decorate it for another week or so. Poor thing, it must feel neglected. I’m sure the tree-huggers will be after us soon.

So, I’ve been doing some Christmas shopping recently, and I’m very proud of myself. My favorite store this year for gifts is the Bibelot Shop, which is actually just across the street and half a block from Keegan’s. By the way, I will be at Keegan’s this Thursday, because I know that all of you have missed me so much.

And in other news, I have temporarily put the wrist sweaters away because of extremely freezing temperatures. Yes, that’s right. All you wristsweataphobes can breathe easy. Now I have real mittens, the kind where the top flips up and velcroes to the back so fingers are free! Yay!

See you at Keegan’s!

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If you know anything about my family, you know that male-famale ratio is pretty low. As in one to four. Well, if you include the animals, its three to five, but we don’t. What I’m saying is that it’s usually pretty estrogenetic around here. (Did I just make up a new word?)

So on Sunday Benny and one of my Poppi’s old buddies came over to do manly things like hang out in the scary basement to watch the Vikings-Packers game and eat chili spicy enough to make them have to blow their noses every 4 and a half minutes. (After the kleenex were all used up there were brownies, but that’s not too manly, so don’t tell.) I know because I hung out in the scary basement, too; eating the spicy chili (though my nose didn’t run) and dozing through the football game. It was hard sometimes, though, because of the yelling. Packer fans can be rather boisterous. And so help me, Ben, if you throw that pillow at me again I’ll defenestrate you.

After a while, I felt like I was being resented. My dad told me I was cramping their style, and that if I wasn’t down there, they’d be lighting farts and whatnot. I told them that if they wanted me to leave, to just say so; but then I was begged to stay. I guess I’m not the only one that feels that fart-lighting isn’t manly, it’s just gross.

After that, there was dance-dancing, where I was almost taken out by a stray flying fist; and then “V for Vendetta”. The movie was interesting, I’ll give it that.

Whooaaa…too much testosterone! It’s going to take the four of us women several chick-flicks to get the basement back to normal. Where’s my “You’ve Got Mail”?

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Thursday night I came home from work, and the house was quiet. Bonita was talking on the phone in the living room, and I heard a ticka-ticka coming from the basement which meant my dad was blogging.

I found a cup of coffee sitting on the counter, getting cold.
I yelled downstairs, “Dad! Did mom make you some coffee?”
“Oh, dang it! I forgot about that.”
He came upstairs and I asked him where Tiger Lilly was.
“Oh, dang it! I forgot to pick her up from tae kwon do!”

You know, sometimes I think he just gets lost in his own little world. One of these days I’m going to ask him where his pants are just to see if he says “Oh, dang it! I forgot!”

Yes, yes, it all seems very funny right now, but what if he forgets something really important? Like my birthday? Yeah, I know, as if I’d ever let anyone forget that. But what if?

…

Anyway,last night I decided to watch one of my favorite movies (Elf). So I got all comfy in my pajamas and settled down in the basement with my sister and my cat when my friend calls me and asks if I want to go to the Wild game.

“What time do we have to leave?”
“Uhh..Right now.”

So I ditched my sister and Buddy the Elf, changed my clothes and had some fun at the hockey game. It’s too bad we lost.

Ah, well, I know they can do better next time. Go, Wild!

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Tonight at dinner, my dad started singing a song to the tune of “Was a farmer, had a dog, and Bingo was his name-o”. Tortellini almost came out of my nose. That, apparently, was his objective. You sicko.

………

………

In other news, my dad has informed me that I’ve been generating controversy on this blog for a bit over a year now. I can look at this two ways:

It’s been a year already??

or

It’s only been a year?

There have been some darn good times here. I have come to think of the MOB as kind of my extended family, complete with older brothers* (like Kevi-Wevi, Andy and Benny-Wenny), the ‘Volunteer Maternal Protector’ (Cathy in the Wright) who helps me keep them in line, and the weird uncle (Strommy).

I always have fun at MOB events. Would it be really sad if I said they were the highlight of my social season? It would? Ok, never mind…

And to all of my faithful public, where would I be without you? I’ve written about some interesting things that have happened to me this past year, and I’ve posted dumb things that I made up on the spot, and you guys stuck around through it all! How do you do it? Seriously?

*Sniff*…Hold on, I’ve got something in my eye…*sniff*

*That occasionally drive me crazy, like big brothers have a tendency to do…I’m told.

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