Old age brings interesting changes. Inability to sleep is one. My body hurts (fibromialgia) and I'm tired from 6 high stress weeks at school. But unable to sleep even with a sleeping pill, I got up and participated in the sacred routine of dunking cookies. It is a ritual. In this case lemon iced cookies in chocolate milk. Raised in the Great Depression, my dad used bread and milk. Principle is the same: mediation.
Question arose in my mind regarding the purpose of life. It has been said we are here to be tested. With decades of testing under my belt, both administrating and receiving, my conclusion is that testing is one the shallowist means of measureing an individual possible. Surely our God can do better than that. If our eternal happiness and progression is based on passing a test, then our God is not a very effective leader and teacher. Reasons of this conclusion are many, if any care to ask.
What is the nature of life's so-called test: pass/fail? Many frightening people cling tenaciously o that one. That is popular right now. How about multiple choice? A segment of society find that apalling, as they should. An essay, written by our lifes? Better, but some of us are not good writers. Multiple choiec? Many curdle at that thought as being too ambiguous. So the question becomes even more what kind of test, if we have any hopes of passing it. The older I get, the more I doubt passing a test is the primary purpose of life.
Though I may present few answers, I hope to present some thought proking questions to those who are mature enought not to be frightened by searching queries. I do have a testimony, but that will be shared after the questions to follow.
Although spring around here can be cold and dark, the bright spirit and thoughts of young students can be refreshing: We were reviewing a vocabulary list and the word was 'drive'. "Katie, do you know how to drive a car?" I asked. (Katie is a ten year old deaf girl I tutor.) "Not really", she wistfully replied. "Just a toy car on the sidewalk and grass and stuff." I replied, "Well, when you are sixteen you will learn to drive an adult car." I paused. Then said, "That is a frightening thought, isn't it?" Katie thought it over a minute, then said, "You don't have to be afraid, Mr. Nelson, 'cuz you'll be dead."
Five senses; an incurably abstract intellect, a haphazardly selective memory; a set of preconceptions and assumptions so numerous that I can never examine more than a minority of them - never become even conscious of them all. How much of total reality can such an apparatus let through? C. S. Lewis
I am known by many names and epithets. I answer to all of them if I hear and know you want me. I look down and wonder. The costume I wear changes without my permission and becomes less functional daily. It is not me. I am a story teller, seeker, trailblazer (in more ways than imagined), lover, teacher, and friend of the Lord. I love mornings, evenings, babies, and old folks. I love youth, energy, faith, and optimism. I love experience, wisdom, and adventure. I love change most of the time, though I do not like aging. I love the outdoors in all seasons in all places. I hate apathy, fear, and all forms of narrow mindedness and judgment. I love love. And light. I love sharing. I love learning. My best teachers are my family. My single best teacher and lover is Dreampacker. I have special yearnings I hope someday to share with others as they become fulfilled. I often feel no one knows me, not the deep, inside, real me. Many see me only as they used to, or expect to, or in the role they think I'm playing. I am more.