The sign of a truly great book or movie is that emotion is created or stirred within the reader/watcher.
I try to get my students to appreciate literature in its ability to make the reader mourn a character never tangible, or laugh at an invisible event seen only in the mind's own eye. I also try to relay the value of literature when it makes the reader mad.
Emotion is good, and through literature, full emotions can be experienced.
"To Kill A Mockingbird" stirs up a sense of justice and anger for the lack of justice among citizens of Alabama.
"The Iliad" stirs pride for Hector as a hero, and hurt over his death. It makes the reader hate Achilles for abusing Hector, but then love him for his selflessness to save Briseis.
"Fahrenheit 451" makes the reader stop and consider the importance of history and literature as Ray Bradbury masterfully pens a stanza from "Dover Beach," whose theme laments the loss of faith among people, which, to Guy Montag, serves as a lamentation over the loss of knowledge and memory. This lamentation pushes Montag to redeem society of its ignorance, even though he loses everything in the process.
So many wonderful books provide examples of how to live, and so many novels point toward Christ. I love picking out themes and plots that point toward Truth.
But today, as I watched the Hollywood hit "Vanity Fair," I felt only anger. There was no justice, no grace, no lamenting loss and persevering to recover the things that fell away. There was only...selfishness. Greed. Dishonesty.
There was no love.
Thakeray's 1678 masterpiece has been bouncing around in my head all day, because it is only hopelessness.
If society lost justice, heroism, faith, and perseverance, then society would be "Vanity Fair," an endless flea market of cheap shots and selfish gain.
In my anger toward the movie, I realized how empty life could be if I lived as Rebecca Sharp or Rawden Crawley.
It would be meaningless. Desperate. Lost.
The English teacher in me needs some kind of point. Some kind of purpose.
Why write "Vanity Fair?"
You can read a summary here http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Vanity_Fair_%28novel%29.
Your thoughts?
Sunday, January 22, 2012
Saturday, January 7, 2012
New Year, New Friends
I was actually nervous as I pulled away from our house today and drove the 7-mile drive along the river to our neighboring town. The new music teacher and I decided to get together, and I told Josh, "I'll either be back soon, which means it didn't go well, or I'll be gone a while, which means we hit it off."
I've sent Liz several notes this year, just trying to encourage her in her first year of teaching, and Tuesday she sent me an email titled, "Let's be friends." A few more emails, and we decided to meet for coffee.
Some of my favorite memories were made over coffee, including nothing but a friend, and time.
Four hours after Liz and I sat down, I decided I've finally made a friend here my heart resonates with, much like my friends from college and high school.
We talked about music, we talked about literature. We talked about education, culture shock in our small town, the need to be silly, and our love for games. We talked about God.
And I'm just thankful. God brought Josh and I here, and he knew I wanted a friend. It's awesome to see his faithfulness at work. I've been blessed with so many great friends throughout the years, and I'm excited that maybe I've stumbled upon another one. Here. It's been so hard to find a great friend here, in Kooskia.
But God is faithful.
And I am most assuredly delighted.
I've sent Liz several notes this year, just trying to encourage her in her first year of teaching, and Tuesday she sent me an email titled, "Let's be friends." A few more emails, and we decided to meet for coffee.
Some of my favorite memories were made over coffee, including nothing but a friend, and time.
Four hours after Liz and I sat down, I decided I've finally made a friend here my heart resonates with, much like my friends from college and high school.
We talked about music, we talked about literature. We talked about education, culture shock in our small town, the need to be silly, and our love for games. We talked about God.
And I'm just thankful. God brought Josh and I here, and he knew I wanted a friend. It's awesome to see his faithfulness at work. I've been blessed with so many great friends throughout the years, and I'm excited that maybe I've stumbled upon another one. Here. It's been so hard to find a great friend here, in Kooskia.
But God is faithful.
And I am most assuredly delighted.
Thursday, December 22, 2011
Reunited, And It Feels So Good!
Josh and I are counting ourselves pretty lucky to have friends who not only flew all the way to Idaho to spend part of their Christmas vacation with us, but who also spent their second anniversary with us.
Brett and Rebecka were here for almost a whole week! We spent much of our time laughing over games and college memories, but we also spent time talking about literature, and the Word, driving around the scenic mountains of northern Idaho, going side-ways while driving around the scenic mountains of Idaho (whoops!), and watching the new TV series, "Once Upon a Time." Brett and Rebecka also spoiled our two dogs, Ivan and Stella, both of whom have been pacing the house all day long searching for their new-found friends.
Brett and Rebecka were here to witness our rival basketball game, as well as the dodge-ball game at half-time between CV teachers and the opposing school's teachers. I haven't busted out my dodge-ball moves since college, and sadly, CV did not walk away victorious.
Brett and Rebecka asked many questions and pointed out cultural differences I have already gotten used to. It seemed almost shocking to realize much of Idaho's culture shock has already waned for me, like the size of butter sticks, camp-trailer main streets, and multiple bars in towns of 500 or less.
We had one unexpected visitor, this week, one who was quite unwelcome. Amid the remodeling of our bathroom, Josh and I also did a quick remodel so that Brett and Rebecka would have their own room while they were here.
Josh was outside, and I heard a tell-tale "squeak," then a furry little head popped out from behind a dresser.
I started screaming and crying almost simultaneously, while Ivan and Stella sat in the doorway looking confused. The mouse ran right by them unscathed from their dog-like brilliance.
Josh rushed in to my hysterics, set several traps, then we left to pick Brett and Rebecka up from the airport. Peanut butter was the first bait, but the little rodent scraped the peanut butter off, then scurried away.
The last day of Brett and Rebecka's stay, we found more signs of our unwanted tenant. Josh set up more traps, this time with cheddar cheese, and the little rascal wasn't quite so skilled. My husband is my hero!
It was so good to have friends. I take for granted people who I can just pick up right where I left off with, and Brett and Rebecka are those kinds of friends.
This will be a Christmas to remember!
In two short days, Josh and I will jump in our Jeep Grand Cherokee and head for Rapid City to spend several days with Don and Patty, as well as my mom and dad, and Tom, Andrew, and Austin.
This is a Christmas of transition in terms of traditions and settings, but where there is family, there is celebration.
To each of you traveling this Christmas, be sure to take lots of pictures, sing lots of Christmas songs, and enjoy your family!
Much love to each of you!
Brett and Rebecka were here for almost a whole week! We spent much of our time laughing over games and college memories, but we also spent time talking about literature, and the Word, driving around the scenic mountains of northern Idaho, going side-ways while driving around the scenic mountains of Idaho (whoops!), and watching the new TV series, "Once Upon a Time." Brett and Rebecka also spoiled our two dogs, Ivan and Stella, both of whom have been pacing the house all day long searching for their new-found friends.
Brett and Rebecka were here to witness our rival basketball game, as well as the dodge-ball game at half-time between CV teachers and the opposing school's teachers. I haven't busted out my dodge-ball moves since college, and sadly, CV did not walk away victorious.
Brett and Rebecka asked many questions and pointed out cultural differences I have already gotten used to. It seemed almost shocking to realize much of Idaho's culture shock has already waned for me, like the size of butter sticks, camp-trailer main streets, and multiple bars in towns of 500 or less.
We had one unexpected visitor, this week, one who was quite unwelcome. Amid the remodeling of our bathroom, Josh and I also did a quick remodel so that Brett and Rebecka would have their own room while they were here.
Josh was outside, and I heard a tell-tale "squeak," then a furry little head popped out from behind a dresser.
I started screaming and crying almost simultaneously, while Ivan and Stella sat in the doorway looking confused. The mouse ran right by them unscathed from their dog-like brilliance.
Josh rushed in to my hysterics, set several traps, then we left to pick Brett and Rebecka up from the airport. Peanut butter was the first bait, but the little rodent scraped the peanut butter off, then scurried away.
The last day of Brett and Rebecka's stay, we found more signs of our unwanted tenant. Josh set up more traps, this time with cheddar cheese, and the little rascal wasn't quite so skilled. My husband is my hero!
It was so good to have friends. I take for granted people who I can just pick up right where I left off with, and Brett and Rebecka are those kinds of friends.
This will be a Christmas to remember!
In two short days, Josh and I will jump in our Jeep Grand Cherokee and head for Rapid City to spend several days with Don and Patty, as well as my mom and dad, and Tom, Andrew, and Austin.
This is a Christmas of transition in terms of traditions and settings, but where there is family, there is celebration.
To each of you traveling this Christmas, be sure to take lots of pictures, sing lots of Christmas songs, and enjoy your family!
Much love to each of you!
Sunday, December 4, 2011
Sunday Morning Thoughts
I'm up early, which is strange- can't sleep. The Christmas tree lights are on, the valley is still dark, our two Schnauzers are curled up at my feet, there is a hot cup of coffee on the table beside me, and Josh is sleeping.
The day hasn't quite started yet, and even though our small house is peaceful and unchanged, with flecks of snow nestled around the edges, my heart is restless, ready for the change coming.
Josh and I spent last night in Weippe with Don and Patty, who I am ever proud to call parents, and very blessed to call friends. We've spent hundreds of evenings in their house- laughing, eating, crying, joking- but this time, we didn't sit around the table to play games, we sat around a very bare living room, with boxes decorating the floors.
It will be so hard to tell Don and Patty goodbye as they head for South Dakota. Josh and I are so excited for the adventures that lie ahead for them, but we're grieving for ourselves.
This will be a lonely valley.
I guess this isn't a blog where I have much to say. Change can be exciting and we can be eager for it, but when we have to sit back and watch others go first, driving Change, it's really hard to be left at the curb, waving goodbye.
Please join me in prayer for Don and Patty as they go. I know God has something wonderful in store for them! And I know God can take care of Josh and I here, too.
The day hasn't quite started yet, and even though our small house is peaceful and unchanged, with flecks of snow nestled around the edges, my heart is restless, ready for the change coming.
Josh and I spent last night in Weippe with Don and Patty, who I am ever proud to call parents, and very blessed to call friends. We've spent hundreds of evenings in their house- laughing, eating, crying, joking- but this time, we didn't sit around the table to play games, we sat around a very bare living room, with boxes decorating the floors.
It will be so hard to tell Don and Patty goodbye as they head for South Dakota. Josh and I are so excited for the adventures that lie ahead for them, but we're grieving for ourselves.
This will be a lonely valley.
I guess this isn't a blog where I have much to say. Change can be exciting and we can be eager for it, but when we have to sit back and watch others go first, driving Change, it's really hard to be left at the curb, waving goodbye.
Please join me in prayer for Don and Patty as they go. I know God has something wonderful in store for them! And I know God can take care of Josh and I here, too.
Thursday, November 17, 2011
Love Wins
Something hit me this week. Last year, as a first-year teacher, it seemed like everything revolved around God teaching me humility, and grace, and strength. Ashley had to grow and change and mature into Mrs. Blain, and some days were so much less eloquent than others. I hadn't stopped to think about God teaching me love through my call as a teacher, because I thought I was learning love through marriage. Teachers need to have classroom management and structure and consistency. But love?
So many days I feel like I sell my students short, because I can't give them enough (fill in the blank). Time. Energy. Joy. Acceptance. Safety. Hope. Authenticity.
But love?
This year could not be more different from that first year as a high school teacher. I was learning classroom management, and how to deal with cranky parents, and students who didn't want to learn, and co-workers who didn't care about anyone other than themselves. But this year, nothing is about me, really. This year, it's about my students. And love.
The weariness, the brokenness, the vulnerability. I see it so clearly in my students faces, in their actions and their words. I see it in their exhaustion and anger. I even see it in their grades. So many of my students come to school to simply get away from home. The students with perfect attendance seem to be failing their classes. It's not about getting the grades, it's about getting out.
I've been paying attention to my relationship with students. So many of them don't know how to have healthy relationships with anyone, so I try to be intentional about praising them, listening to their stories, showing them it's okay to be angry, but that they have to use words, not actions, to convey that anger. And some days, that is so hard.
I'm seeing my love for these students grow and morph the longer I teach in rural Idaho.
Just when I think I have love figured out, God reveals something new, like with my students. They are so inept at times to show or even accept love; they can't earn it- I simply choose to give it.
And that's how Christ's love is for me. I've been trying to wrap my head around that revelation this week, then tonight, a new thought hit me: God loved me the moment I was born, and that love will be constant until the day He embraces me at His throne. He loves me the same now as He did when I cheated on a spelling test in the first grade, or when I stayed up with a friend and stroked her hair after a break-up, or when I spewed anger at a co-worker. God's love doesn't change, or waver, or get lost amid my own flaws. God hurts when I hurt, and hurts when I sin, but His love never runs out or becomes less.
I want to love like that.
Unconditional, raw, can't-earn-it-or-lose-it love.
Because love wins.
If I can show students that kind of love, then Love really does win, because that kind of love is Christ.
Our world is about to drastically change in Idaho. Don and Patty are moving, and Josh and I will be void of family. I've yelled at God quite a bit these last few months, over many things. My family...miles. Josh's family...change. A baby...loss. My grandma...cancer. Josh's grandpa...Lou Gehrig's. Loneliness. Darkness. Cold.
Some days, I vacillate on one question: Why should we stay?
Force? No. Expectations? No. Certainly not for "scenic" Idaho. I have no loyalties to this dark and gloomy state!
But for Love? For Christ? I'm seeing the unmistakable call placed on Josh's life as Eternal Hope Wesleyan Pastor, and the call placed on my life as CVHS teacher, Mrs. Blain.
Even though I still yell at God, I can't help but feel excitement over being a part of this call, this love.
I pray that Love will spread like wildfire! No pain is wasted, in me, in Josh, in my students, in our church, or our family.
Love wins. And that is worth staying for.
So many days I feel like I sell my students short, because I can't give them enough (fill in the blank). Time. Energy. Joy. Acceptance. Safety. Hope. Authenticity.
But love?
This year could not be more different from that first year as a high school teacher. I was learning classroom management, and how to deal with cranky parents, and students who didn't want to learn, and co-workers who didn't care about anyone other than themselves. But this year, nothing is about me, really. This year, it's about my students. And love.
The weariness, the brokenness, the vulnerability. I see it so clearly in my students faces, in their actions and their words. I see it in their exhaustion and anger. I even see it in their grades. So many of my students come to school to simply get away from home. The students with perfect attendance seem to be failing their classes. It's not about getting the grades, it's about getting out.
I've been paying attention to my relationship with students. So many of them don't know how to have healthy relationships with anyone, so I try to be intentional about praising them, listening to their stories, showing them it's okay to be angry, but that they have to use words, not actions, to convey that anger. And some days, that is so hard.
I'm seeing my love for these students grow and morph the longer I teach in rural Idaho.
Just when I think I have love figured out, God reveals something new, like with my students. They are so inept at times to show or even accept love; they can't earn it- I simply choose to give it.
And that's how Christ's love is for me. I've been trying to wrap my head around that revelation this week, then tonight, a new thought hit me: God loved me the moment I was born, and that love will be constant until the day He embraces me at His throne. He loves me the same now as He did when I cheated on a spelling test in the first grade, or when I stayed up with a friend and stroked her hair after a break-up, or when I spewed anger at a co-worker. God's love doesn't change, or waver, or get lost amid my own flaws. God hurts when I hurt, and hurts when I sin, but His love never runs out or becomes less.
I want to love like that.
Unconditional, raw, can't-earn-it-or-lose-it love.
Because love wins.
If I can show students that kind of love, then Love really does win, because that kind of love is Christ.
Our world is about to drastically change in Idaho. Don and Patty are moving, and Josh and I will be void of family. I've yelled at God quite a bit these last few months, over many things. My family...miles. Josh's family...change. A baby...loss. My grandma...cancer. Josh's grandpa...Lou Gehrig's. Loneliness. Darkness. Cold.
Some days, I vacillate on one question: Why should we stay?
Force? No. Expectations? No. Certainly not for "scenic" Idaho. I have no loyalties to this dark and gloomy state!
But for Love? For Christ? I'm seeing the unmistakable call placed on Josh's life as Eternal Hope Wesleyan Pastor, and the call placed on my life as CVHS teacher, Mrs. Blain.
Even though I still yell at God, I can't help but feel excitement over being a part of this call, this love.
I pray that Love will spread like wildfire! No pain is wasted, in me, in Josh, in my students, in our church, or our family.
Love wins. And that is worth staying for.
Friday, November 4, 2011
Trick Or Treat!
Well, kids, it's time for the LesslieBlain Odyssey's inaugural Halloween post, so get out your favorite costume and your bowl of goodies. Here goes.
This is the first year that Ashley and I have given candy to trick-or-treaters. I'd like to share a few of our favorite quotes from the kids who visited our house.
As I opened the door to two very young kids, I said "Hi guys!" A three-year-old girl quickly piped back "Hi guys!"
When Ashley asked a girl if she was supposed to be a fairy princess, she confidently replied "No. I'm a fairy princess."
One very eager boy, before we had given him any candy, spouted out "Thank yo-- I mean trick or treat!"
Ashley opened the door to one very short, very stout trick-or-treater who only had visible eyes. She said, "Happy Halloween! Are you having fun tonight?" The candy hunter replied in a deep, not-so-childish voice, "I'm having a great time." That trick-or-treater was no eight-year-old...and he was way more trick than treat.
I even gave out candy to the kids on my bus - as they got off, of course. One fourth grader was so blown away by the gesture that he forgot what holiday it was, and blurted out "Thanks! Merry Christmas!"
Hope you had a great Halloween! See you next time.
Oh, and Ashley and I also found this hilarious. Especially the last video.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_YQpbzQ6gzs&feature=youtu.be&noredirect=1
This is the first year that Ashley and I have given candy to trick-or-treaters. I'd like to share a few of our favorite quotes from the kids who visited our house.
As I opened the door to two very young kids, I said "Hi guys!" A three-year-old girl quickly piped back "Hi guys!"
When Ashley asked a girl if she was supposed to be a fairy princess, she confidently replied "No. I'm a fairy princess."
One very eager boy, before we had given him any candy, spouted out "Thank yo-- I mean trick or treat!"
Ashley opened the door to one very short, very stout trick-or-treater who only had visible eyes. She said, "Happy Halloween! Are you having fun tonight?" The candy hunter replied in a deep, not-so-childish voice, "I'm having a great time." That trick-or-treater was no eight-year-old...and he was way more trick than treat.
I even gave out candy to the kids on my bus - as they got off, of course. One fourth grader was so blown away by the gesture that he forgot what holiday it was, and blurted out "Thanks! Merry Christmas!"
Hope you had a great Halloween! See you next time.
Oh, and Ashley and I also found this hilarious. Especially the last video.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_YQpbzQ6gzs&feature=youtu.be&noredirect=1
Sunday, October 30, 2011
Light Shines Through the Darkness
The last few weeks in Kooskia, Idaho, have been dreary. When winter rolls in, so does the darkness.
Living in the valley spurs Josh and I to cherish our quickly fading sunlight.
This morning, we woke up to phone calls, we dressed quickly, then headed out the door.
On the way up the mountain, I noticed today was not a dreary day. It was chilly, so fog was rolling through the hills, but as we continued to drive up, sun beams burst through the fog. The light was present, and the light was warm.
We have a couple in our church. He's 70ish, but you'd never know, and she's somewhere close in age, but even harder to guess.
They're fit- they're active. They travel everywhere. They love people and animals and even put on a church camp for disabled adults and kids. The community has embraced them for nearly thirty years, and our small church has embraced them, too, so the heart strings are rooted deep.
Josh and I are still reeling in shock.
Last night, Beth went to pick apples. The apple season is coming to an end, and Beth hates waste. She talks about the land as a blessing, and being good stewards of the land means using what is provided, not wasting.
Phil wasn't home yet, so Beth loaded up on the new four-wheeler Phil got her for her birthday, rallied up their nine adopted dogs, and made her way to the off-road apple orchard on their property.
It was nearly dark when Phil made his way home. Winter calls darkness in early. He said something just wasn't quite right- some of the dogs were home, but a few weren't, and neither was the four-wheeler.
With tears in his eyes this morning, Phil, still in yesterday's boots and chaps, said "I expected to find her stuck. Not dead."
Beth had gathered five bags of apples, and was on her way home, when somehow, the rig flipped on top of her. And that's how Phil finally found her. He'd searched all over their property, gone to every pond, when one of those three dogs came to him, and then led Phil back to his wife.
Phil said, "Some people are married for years and get tired of each other. We never did."
Saturday, Phil is asking for close friends to come up to the ranch to juice Beth's apples. He said, "If I let Beth's apples rot, she's gonna yell at me in the afterlife! She'll say, 'You wasted my apples!'" I can't think of a better way to hold memorial for this dear woman- it's so Beth.
Darkness may last for a while, and sometimes it seems as though it will never clear, but light bursts through the dreary fog, and brings warmth, and life, and hope.
Church will start in a few hours, and our small body of 25 will tearfully listen as Josh brings a message from the beatitudes.
"Blessed are those who mourn, for they shall be comforted."
God knew even before we did.
Though the darkness may last for the night, joy comes in the morning, and that joy is Jesus, because separation is only momentary.
And Beth wins.
Living in the valley spurs Josh and I to cherish our quickly fading sunlight.
This morning, we woke up to phone calls, we dressed quickly, then headed out the door.
On the way up the mountain, I noticed today was not a dreary day. It was chilly, so fog was rolling through the hills, but as we continued to drive up, sun beams burst through the fog. The light was present, and the light was warm.
We have a couple in our church. He's 70ish, but you'd never know, and she's somewhere close in age, but even harder to guess.
They're fit- they're active. They travel everywhere. They love people and animals and even put on a church camp for disabled adults and kids. The community has embraced them for nearly thirty years, and our small church has embraced them, too, so the heart strings are rooted deep.
Josh and I are still reeling in shock.
Last night, Beth went to pick apples. The apple season is coming to an end, and Beth hates waste. She talks about the land as a blessing, and being good stewards of the land means using what is provided, not wasting.
Phil wasn't home yet, so Beth loaded up on the new four-wheeler Phil got her for her birthday, rallied up their nine adopted dogs, and made her way to the off-road apple orchard on their property.
It was nearly dark when Phil made his way home. Winter calls darkness in early. He said something just wasn't quite right- some of the dogs were home, but a few weren't, and neither was the four-wheeler.
With tears in his eyes this morning, Phil, still in yesterday's boots and chaps, said "I expected to find her stuck. Not dead."
Beth had gathered five bags of apples, and was on her way home, when somehow, the rig flipped on top of her. And that's how Phil finally found her. He'd searched all over their property, gone to every pond, when one of those three dogs came to him, and then led Phil back to his wife.
Phil said, "Some people are married for years and get tired of each other. We never did."
Saturday, Phil is asking for close friends to come up to the ranch to juice Beth's apples. He said, "If I let Beth's apples rot, she's gonna yell at me in the afterlife! She'll say, 'You wasted my apples!'" I can't think of a better way to hold memorial for this dear woman- it's so Beth.
Darkness may last for a while, and sometimes it seems as though it will never clear, but light bursts through the dreary fog, and brings warmth, and life, and hope.
Church will start in a few hours, and our small body of 25 will tearfully listen as Josh brings a message from the beatitudes.
"Blessed are those who mourn, for they shall be comforted."
God knew even before we did.
Though the darkness may last for the night, joy comes in the morning, and that joy is Jesus, because separation is only momentary.
And Beth wins.
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