Sola Christus

Everything comes to an end

Finishing a PhD is ______ (insert word to show the sisyphean feat that this is).

Planning a wedding is hard/difficult/enjoyable/frustrating (72 days to go).

Living 3, 800 miles away from your fiance while trying to plan said wedding, well there's no way around that one, it's just sh*t, that I wouldn't wish on anyone (34 days to go). Though, my fiance makes it bearable; he is wonderful, always encouraging and loving me--more than I could ever ask for. 

(Plus, I never knew people could be so rude about weddings. Everyone seems to have an opinion, and some people think they can just invite themselves to your wedding. Seriously? Don't they know it costs money?)

Needless to say, my days and nights have been spent with many hours in the office and even less sleep. I'm trying not to get ulcers or have a heart attack, and taking trips to the gym to keep my sanity. Here's the view I see on the way back from the gym:

So, here's my prayer for today, and for the end of this process:

 

 

{this moment} : : the last lap of the marathon

...called the PhD. And 3.5 years comes down to three months folks. The question is: Can she do it?

 

{this moment} : : a near arrival

a birth of words

67, 810 to be exact

Why I do what I do

For moments like today when I was reading 16th century poetry through a jet-lagged, caffeine clouded haze and I stumble upon this lovely phrasing that feels like a beam of sunlight breaking through the haar.

 

"I shall," quoth I, "against myself confess

Unto thee, Lord, all my sinful plight:"       

And thou forthwith didst wash the wickedness

Of mine offence. Of truth right thus it is,

Wherefore they, that have tasted thy goodness,

At me shall take example as of this,

And pray, and seek in time for time of grace.      

Then shall the storms and floods of harm him miss,

And him to reach shall never have the space.

Thou art my refuge, and only safeguard

From the troubles that compass me the place.

 

 

~ lines 254-264 from Sir Thomas Wyatt's Paraphrase of the Penitential Psalms

 

Do I really have to?

I am sitting in my wonderful living room that has skylights looking out to the darkness. It was snowing this morning; we got about four inches, and said skylights were covered with snow. Now, it is just raining.

I have my Christmas tree up and guests coming for supper. I am trying out a new recipe which will either be simply amazing or truly awful. Depending on how it turns out, I will share it.

This week I had an amazing Thanksgiving celebration. There was food and laughter throughout our flat. People ate and drank and ate some more. And I was thankful.

But, I am not always thankful. Sometimes I feel like I am constantly fighting a war in my heart. A war to be content. Some things are harder to accept, like change. Change happens; it always comes. Sometimes I feel like asking "Do I really have to? Do I really have to face that change?" I want to cling to the past, grasping the way I think things should be. Invariably, it never works. I can't be with the friend far away who is sick. I might not be able to see someone as much as I want. I can't change that rejection slip into and acceptance. Friendships change, relationships end, and life keeps going.

So, instead of clutching at the past, today I think I will be thankful for the present.

For christmas lights on a skinny little tree.

For snow that falls like down from a grey sky.

For squiggly fireworks floating on the sea.

For marker circles on sheets of paper sent "par avion."

For stories that open my eyes to what I have.

For new friends that ease the ache of missing the old.

For expected new arrivals (pink or blue?).

 

And I will have hope for the future, and that even this change will be for my good.

And, I will grasp this wonderful benediction for the future.

May the Lord bless you and keep you.
May he shine a light upon your face
May you feel the heat of his glory in your bones
May you know his kindness and his grace

May His love define your ways of living
May you see his face among your friends
May you live your story empowered by his love
May you be comfortable walking in your skin

May you find your worth from your maker
And live in freedom all of your days
May you grow in the sense of who you really are
May his light show you the way

May you know that you have the power
To add beauty and grace into this world
May you discover all your gifts and give them generously
May you listen for God’s every word

(Thanks to Chera for introducing me to this song)

In the paper shadows

The Chronicle recently published an article purportedly written by a man who writes papers for students who hire him. Yes, he is a professional cheat. For those of you who are not in academia (and perhaps for those who are), plagiarism has become an increasing problem for years. I have taught at two different universities, both on the ground and online, and always found at least one (usually several more) plagiarised papers per term.

This article claims to be a tell-all about just what type of student would be willing to hire someone to do his or her work for them. I have seen (and taught) all three of his categories:

From my experience, three demographic groups seek out my services: the English-as-second-language student; the hopelessly deficient student; and the lazy rich kid.

For the last, colleges are a perfect launching ground—they are built to reward the rich and to forgive them their laziness. Let's be honest: The successful among us are not always the best and the brightest, and certainly not the most ethical. My favorite customers are those with an unlimited supply of money and no shortage of instructions on how they would like to see their work executed. While the deficient student will generally not know how to ask for what he wants until he doesn't get it, the lazy rich student will know exactly what he wants. He is poised for a life of paying others and telling them what to do. Indeed, he is acquiring all the skills he needs to stay on top.

As for the first two types of students—the ESL and the hopelessly deficient—colleges are utterly failing them. Students who come to American universities from other countries find that their efforts to learn a new language are confounded not only by cultural difficulties but also by the pressures of grading. The focus on evaluation rather than education means that those who haven't mastered English must do so quickly or suffer the consequences. My service provides a particularly quick way to "master" English. And those who are hopelessly deficient—a euphemism, I admit—struggle with communication in general.

 I agree with his assessment of the last two categories. The American higher education system is failing these students. Except, I would argue that part of the problem is because the teachers don't focus on education. It is tempting when administration pushes the teacher to churn out students with higher and higher grades to focus merely on the grade spreadsheet. But, that is not education. If a student fails a class, he or she still could have learned the subject, learned about him or herself, and learned something for the future. Yes, an F could still mean that the student has been educated. I think the larger problem is that students are not allowed to fail. Parents should accept that their children will fail--in fact need to fail. They need to realize that being a helicopter parent only helps themselves, not the students.

And, lest you think that your alma mater or your subject is free from this plagiarism plague, here is a particularly chilling section from the article:

I do a lot of work for seminary students. I like seminary students. They seem so blissfully unaware of the inherent contradiction in paying somebody to help them cheat in courses that are largely about walking in the light of God and providing an ethical model for others to follow. I have been commissioned to write many a passionate condemnation of America's moral decay as exemplified by abortion, gay marriage, or the teaching of evolution. All in all, we may presume that clerical authorities see these as a greater threat than the plagiarism committed by the future frocked.

 So what do you think?

on a morning bike ride

peach frosting clouds

dolops of morning sunlight on stones at the pier

the cathedral lifting arms to the sun

welcome October

Wait and cook a little

Sometimes life is made up of waiting periods. I am in one of those periods right now; everything in my life seems to be made up of waiting. Waiting on job openings. Waiting to hear if I have teaching this term. Waiting on friends to make decisions. Waiting on very ill family members to get better or pass on. Waiting on a publication proposal. Waiting on friends who are pregnant to deliver a new life into the world. Of course, all of this waiting happens while I continue performing life with all of the perpetual responsibilities.

Most of the time being single is fun, liberating, full of freedom. I can take a job anywhere I want--I don't have to make plans for anyone else but myself.

But, in these waiting periods, being single becomes more painful, sharper. There is no one there to talk you down off the worry cliff, to discourage you from saying, "Hang academia! I want to be a florist!" No one to sit with you on the couch, in silence while you wait for that dreaded phone call.

Don't worry, I won't jump.

But, I will pray.

And cook.

I have always enjoyed cooking, but for some reason, living in Scotland has made me more adventurous, more curious about how food comes together.

So, while I wait, I am taking great pleasure in bringing together good, simple things to make something better, something wonderful. Kneading dough, cutting fruit, blending butter and flour are all calming--soothing my anxious waiting heart. Even if I don't get to eat my creation, at least I can share it with others. I can give them something that they don't have to wait on. Suddenly, I don't feel useless, helpless, and out of control anymore, because at least I can do something that gives someone else pleasure.

In the last few days, I have made two batches of rice krispy treats (with real American marshmallows, I'll have you know!), banana walnut chocolate chip muffins, steak and asparagus with a garlic butter sauce, apple pie (with a homemade crust of course), apple streusal muffins, a wonderful dish that has Moroccan roots, apple and blackberry crumble, and finally homemade crepes with berries and cream.

Just in case you are waiting too dear reader, I will share one of my new creations with you.

 

 

The Moroccan dish:

I had something like this at my friend Chera's house for supper last week. It was warm, comforting, and filling. She was nice enough to tell me the recipe, but I didn't remember it. So in true dumping* fashion, I decided to experiment.

Everything goes in one pan, so make sure that you use a pot/pan deep enough.

Ingredients:

half an onion

3 cloves of garlic

1 can of stewed tomatoes

4 or 5 fresh plum tomatoes

1 can of chickpeas

1 vegetable or chicken bouillon cube

1 zucchini (or courgette as they say in Britain)

2 or 3 carrots (if you like)

Couscous

Spices to taste:

sugar, salt, pepper, a pinch of crushed red pepper, mild chili powder, cumin, rosemary, thyme, oregano

 

Heat some olive oil in the pan. Dice the garlic and onions, then throw them in the pot with the olive oil. Heat them just until they start to warm and release the fragrance (about 3-5 min. over low to med. heat). Chop the fresh tomatoes into quarters, dump in the pot. Simmer for about 5 minutes or so, until they start to get soft. While that is cooking, place bouillon cube in about a pint of warm water. Dump can of tomatoes into the pan, add water, carrots, and drained and washed chickpeas. Add spices and stir well. Simmer for about 15-20 minutes. Add zucchini at the end. I don't like it to be too soft, so I only cook it until it is "al dente." Prepare couscous separately and serve warm. Perfect for a winter day!

 

 *dumping=what a cook does when she views a recipe as a suggestion.

Lifting my eyes

As thrilling as doing a PhD in Scotland can be, life can often get lonely. The UK PhD system is structured around research and writing, not classwork and teaching. I spend most of the time in an office where I see no one and sometimes the first words I speak are to fellow students when we eat lunch together at 1. I love my topic and I love where I live, but I am certainly wired for social interactions. Of course, too much society can lead to a crowded mind, which hinders the writing process. Balance is what I am consistently trying to maintain.

With all the moving pieces in my life right now, a peaceful balance is hard to maintain. I teach two university level classes online (for about 50 students), am working on a chapter to go into a book proposal, need to write two conference papers, start thinking about job applications, and then there is my thesis that I need to write--along with being a good friend, flatmate, sister, and daughter.

Most of my life swings between social business and lone hours in my office. And I love my office. It may not be the homiest place, but it has been one consistent thing, one place that I can always go to. One of the things I love, is the view from my window. Because I am on the third floor, I can look out over rooftops to the green hills of Fife beyond this old town.

One of my favorite singer-song writers recently came out with a new CD, and I have had one song playing over and over for several weeks. It reminds me, that whether I have been in a crowded room at a party or spent eight hours alone struggling to write in my office, I can always lift my eyes to the hills.

"Can't Help Myself"

by Sandra McCracken

on In Feast or Fallow

"Can't Help Myself"
I confess the things I am afraid of
thorns and danger just around the bend.
I pray for tongues of fire and bands of angels
to come and circle 'round me like a fence.

Chorus:
I lift my eyes to the hills.
Where comes my help?
I lift my hands--empty hands.
I can't help myself.
I can't help myself.
No, I can't help myself.

My enemies surround me like an army,
within, without, the battle's raging on.
I pray the Spirit will be strong and mighty
for courage through the night until the dawn.

Chorus

I trust the Lord, my soul and all that is in me.
Oh, trust the Light to show your darkest parts.
With words of truth and love, a friend who has known me.
A fool would keep his secrets in his heart.

Timely Words

"Every man naturally desireth to know; but what availeth knowledge without the fear of God? Better, surey is an humble person that serveth God, than a proud philosopher that, neglecting himself, studieth the course of the heavens. Whoso knoweth himself well, groweth mean in his own conceit, and delighteth not in the praises of men. If I understood all things in the world, and were not in charity, what would that help me in the sight of God, who will judge me according to my deeds? Cease from the inordinate desire of knowing, for therein is found much distraction and deceit. The learned are well pleased to seem so to others, and to be accounted wise. There be many things, which to know doth little or nothing profit the soul: and he is very unwise, who is intent upon any things save those which avail for his salvation.

Many words do not satisfy the soul: but a good life comforteth the mind, and a pure conscience giveth great confidence towards God."

Of the Imitation of Christ by Thomas à Kempis