Above Average

I've just made an incredible discovery. According to one of my textbooks, I am just very slightly above average height. Across all biocultural groups for women, average height is 63.7 inches; for white Americans, it is 63.8 inches.*

I am a proud 63.9 inches tall.




*Study data from 1995.

Goodbye Gray

I've been trying to get rid of the gray in my life. I'm not talking about gray hairs, gray sweaters, or gray skies. I mean the gray areas. For example, fictional literature that doesn't have content overtly contradictory to my values, or secular music with lyrics that are somewhat neutral.

At GYC, one of the speakers highlighted the point that every action we take in life is developing our character, either drawing us closer to God and heaven's perfection, or drowning us in our carnal nature. That really hit home for me. There are quite a few things in my life that are neutral in that they aren't bad in and of themselves, but they certainly aren't doing anything to foster a love relationship between me and my God.

So recently, I've been trying extra hard to cut out of my life those things that seem to fall in the gray area, lumping them in with the blacks of life. This has created a need to classify certain music, literature, and things of that sort. Unfortunately, this is much more difficult than it sounds; gray is quite often hard to identify, oddly enough.

One dilemma I've come across is what to do with classical and instrumental music. These are both genres of music that I am fond of, but can't completely justify as music that lends itself to positive character development or fostering of spiritual growth.

I'm curious if any of you have thoughts on this subject- gray areas, or specifically on classical/instrumental music. I'd very much like some outside feedback to help in processing my own thoughts.

Umm Odd...

So I have a propensity toward awful/scary/weird dreams. I don't know what it is, but I tend to have nightmares somewhat frequently. Sometimes they wake me up, and I'm grateful for that. Last night I had one such terrifying dream that awakened me at some odd hour of the morning. Thankfully I fell back asleep rather quickly.

However, the night was not finished. My next dream of the night was odd on many different levels. First, I think I had handmaids. Second, I was locked in a room, being held hostage by none other than my soon-to-be husband. Apparently I was engaged to him, but I didn't want to be, and with good reason; I mean, after all, he had locked me in this basement room so I couldn't escape and would have to marry him. Somehow, my grandparents managed to get into this room to free me. So I hurriedly began packing my things so that I could flee the certain doom of marriage to this cruel man. But then whilst throwing my clothes into a duffel bag, I had a small thought: Maybe I don't want to leave. Yeah. Perhaps I really ought to stay. And marry him.

I left my grandparents in the room, walked down the hallway to another small room in which, incidentally, my fiancé was sitting. He looked upset, but not angry. He knew I was going to run away, but he wasn't planning to try to stop me (odd seeing as he's the one who locked me up in the first place). I walked over to him and told him, "I think I want to stay here with you." He replied that he would like that very much (apparently my talent for screenwriting is non-existent, even in my dreams). And that was that. I woke up.

I know. Beyond odd. Where does this stuff come from? I just hope this isn't in any way a foreshadowing of things to come, that it's just a strange, strange nonsensical dream. I also hope I haven't bored you with this if you're still reading; I hope you've laughed at least once while reading this so that it wasn't a complete waste of your time.

I think tonight I'll pray for sweet dreams...

Unethical Dilemma

Today in class I was confronted with a question. It was a question that I immediately knew the answer to, but after some class discussion of the issue, I began to second guess myself. Since then, I have given it some thought and have come to a final conclusion of my opinion. However, I would love to have a conversation with several of my friends about it to hear more opinions, but due to lack of time and overlapping schedules, I have decided to post the issue here and hope for some thoughtful comments.

In Research class, we learned briefly about several cases of unethical research that have been conducted, namely, the Nazi experiments on Jewish prisoners, the Tuskegee study, Willowbrook studies, and the Jewish Chronic Disease Hospital study (scroll down to find this one). A question was then asked of the class: Do you think that the research done in these and other unethical studies should be published and utilized?

So that's my question to you. Should the results be published and utilized, or discarded unused because of the unethical means of obtainment? Would not publishing the results be a waste of those individuals' suffering and mistreatment, or would publication add insult to injury in taking lightly their mistreatment for the benefit of others?

Sabbath Blessings

These are my Sabbath scrubs. I'm trying to find ways to remember the Sabbath day even on the days that I'm required to work. This is just one of the things that I decided would be a good reminder. I chose these scrubs because the colors are soothing, calming colors-- which is good for both me and my patients. Plus they have hearts on them and say things like faith, hope, and love. I think they're my favorites.

Thankfully, soon I'll be off of orientation and likely won't have to work as many Sabbath hours. But for now God has been blessing and hopefully using me as a blessing. My first two days of work were both great overall, and I'm looking forward to more of the same: challenges and growth.

Mysteries

What is it about mysteries that is so compelling? I love mysteries. I'm not talking about Nancy Drew. I mean real mysteries, ones that don't have a definite answer but spark all kinds of theories of possibilities. Like what happened to Amelia Earhart? Or Anastasia Romanov? What really happened to the Lindbergh baby?

I have no explanation for why these and other mysteries capture my attention. They just do. For some reason the unexplainable just begs to be explored and calls to something deep within, imploring me to search it out.

Generally, I don't have the time to indulge in reading literature on theories exposing what may have happened. However, there's a greater mystery than such inconsequential puzzles as these that is begging to be searched out and known. A mystery that may not be fully understood on earth and possibly never will be completely explained.

That their hearts may be encouraged, having been knit together in love, and attaining to all the wealth that comes from the full assurance of understanding, resulting in a true knowledge of God's mystery, that is, Christ Himself, in whom are hidden all the treasures of wisdom and knowledge. Colossians 2:2,3, NASB

By common confession, great is the mystery of godliness:
He who was revealed in the flesh,
Was vindicated in the Spirit,
Seen by angels,
Proclaimed among the nations,
Believed on in the world,
Taken up in glory.
1 Timothy 3:16, NASB

"This is the mystery into which angels desire to look. They desire to know how Christ could live and work in a fallen world, how He could mingle with sinful humanity. It was a mystery to them that He who hated sin with intense hatred felt the most tender, compassionate sympathy for the beings that committed sin" (ST Jan. 20, 1898).

It may ever remain a mystery to me how God could love such a flawed, failing, and faithless creature as myself. And yet I am determined to explore it. Because to know this, to come closer to understanding this mystery, is to know God in all His love.