Audiobook 2 FINISHED! Chapters 23 and 24 here

UPDATE: I originally had the wrong book uploaded for Chapter 24. That has been rectified. Book 2, Soldier at the Door, is now complete! The last two chapters are below, along with the most worrying lines I’ve ever written. And now, they feel even more applicable than ever:

“What if everything we believe is wrong?” Mahrree challenged.

Mahrree saw her poor neighbor’s eyes glaze over. Mrs. Hersh realized too late she’d been dragged into the discussion, and the dread in her eyes demonstrated a frantic desire to escape.

But there was also something else there: a sudden loyalty to her society that demanded no one step out of bounds. “Then we’re wrong together,” Mrs. Hersh decided. “Being united is important,” she said as if realizing she actually believed that. “What everyone thinks together is correct,” she reasoned out loud, “and so if you follow the crowd, you’ll never be wrong.”

Mahrree’s shoulders fell. How can you open someone’s eyes who holds them firmly shut, yet claims she sees just fine?

“It’s like the river,” Mrs. Hersh went on, emboldened by Mahrree’s discouraged silence. “Everything flows downstream. Simply . . . go with that flow. It’s just easier that way.”

Mahrree saw her way back in. “Fish don’t flow downstream.”

“Yes they do.”

“No, they don’t.”

Mrs. Hersh put her hands on her hips. “Why wouldn’t they?”

“Because then there’d be no more fish up here in Edge!” Mahrree pointed out. “I’ve seen them when I’ve taken my students to see the river, and when I’ve dragged my fishing husband home again. Many fish swim in the same spot, fighting the current. A few species even swim upstream, against everything pushing them to the southern ocean.”

Mrs. Hersh pondered for a moment. “That doesn’t make any sense. Why wouldn’t they just go with the flow of the river?”

“Because,” Mahrree tried not to sigh at her neighbor’s inanity, “maybe they don’t like where the river is going. Salty water at the end of it likely kills them.”

Mrs. Hersh squinted. “How would they know about the salty water? Besides, so what? At least they had an easy time getting to it. They’re going die eventually, so might as well go easily instead of fighting the current.”

And right then Mahrree realized, to her horror, that the Administrators had won.

Because as long as everyone else was doing it, you should too. Hold hands and jump off the crevice together, never questioning why.

“I’d rather fight the current,” Mahrree said quietly.

Me too, Mahrree.

Next I’ll be reading the prequel, The Walls in the Middle of Idumea, where we meet grandfather Pere Shin, the king’s servants, and a young Relf Shin.

Audiobook Chapters 20, 21, 22 for Book 2 are here!

A shockingly productive weekend–about three hours of listening pleasure for you! (Ok, “pleasure” may be pushing it a bit.)

Mahrree wonders if people give into coercion and force because of fear, or because of lack of faith.

This has been my question for nearly two years now, especially when I look at my own responses to everything since March 2020. Often I stand up with faith, and often I bow down in fear–no, not so much “fear” but in deference others who are fearful, to make people around me “feel better” in the face of what I consider ridiculousness. I don’t want to offend or hurt feelings, but I also don’t want to hide what I believe is correct.

It’s a tough, tough balance, one that I have yet to handle well. But one verse from the apostle Paul keeps coming back to my mind: “For God hath not given us the spirit of fear; but of power, and of love, and of a sound mind.” Faith over fear. It’s hard to achieve, hard to maintain, hard to demonstrate without offending. But it’s the only way to get through anything.

Then again, it’s so easy to be brave . . . in theory. So easy to make promises . . . when you don’t have to follow through yet. So easy to feel so much pride . . . when you’re untested.

I confess I’m much like Mahrree, but only when she’s believes she much tougher in her mind than she is in real life. It’s so easy to label others cowards . . . until we face the same situation. (And I’m such a coward, but I wish I weren’t.)

And sorry there’s no visual on this last chapter. I have NO idea where my screen went. Usually you can see the text I’m reading (and revising as I read), but in this chapter? Just some odd, clipped image. I’m clueless. Sorry.

Audiobook Chapters 17, 18, and 19 of Book 2 ready!

Justification fascinates me: how does the mind slide over, a little at a time, to eventually convince itself that extreme action, such as causing someone’s death, is not only necessary but good? Is it because one can still see the “moral” argument from a distance, and so they believe that they if they are in reaching distance of it, they aren’t as far removed from ethical behavior as they seem to be?

How easily is this justification then applied to other matters, such as ostracizing someone from society for holding firm to a belief that others used to embrace, but now have also sidled away from?

Just musing here, not applying this to anything in the real world whatsoever . . .

[Also, The hardest two words for my stutter to work around are “shoulders sagged.” I see those words coming and I start to panic, wondering why in the world I wrote such a lip-whipping line. (I’m not going to try to say that out loud, either: “lip-whipping line.”)]

Audiobooks Chapters 14, 15, 16 of Book 2 “Soldier at the Door”

“After terror, the people are willing to forfeit all kinds of freedoms to ensure their security.”

Some of the lines I read out loud give me goosebumps when I see how the same scenarios are happening in our own countries, already. This one especially. I’ve said before I knew we’d come to this, but it’s all happening faster than I anticipated.

And the fact that Dormin is a “straw man”–I’m teaching logical fallacies to my students right now, and this label jumped out at me today with additional layers. Read about straw man tactics here: https://thinkbuthow.com/straw-man/

Also, pink is not my favorite color either, Perrin. I totally get your reaction. I’d feel the same way.

Audiobook 2, chapters 7 and 8 from “Soldier at the Door”

Be ready for my ranting, via Mahrree, about how schools should be. I was a homeschooling mom for many years, and am now a full-time high school English teacher, but teach in private schools rather than public. My three youngest kids, however, now attend public schools, but for how long, I don’t know.

I’ve been immensely blessed to be able to teach pretty much how and what I want in schools. I make sure all the standards are covered, but I try to bring in the love of books and language, not the drudgery of worksheets and memorization.

No children are ever at the same level of readiness, no test will ever effectively evaluate a child’s learning, and no teacher can make learning happen if the children–and their parents–aren’t all working together. I know exactly how I’d design a school, working with and for parents and kids, accommodating both part-time and full-time students, and some day in Zion/Salem, I hope to implement it.

Kids don’t need to be force-fed learning. They naturally love it!

But schooling kills it. Tragedy.

Audio Book 2 “Soldier at the Door,” chapters 4, 5 and 6 ready!

UPDATE: My friend RJ pointed out I hadn’t mentioned chapter 4 was up! Numbers always are problematic for me. That’s why I teach English and not math. I’ve included chapter 4 here.

Bronchitis eased up enough for me to read 42 minutes at a time before my lungs said, “They really want to hear your barking seal impression–here we go!” Fortunately I could splice these very long chapters together with Wondershare. The first I did before stomach flu/eastern virus struck at the beginning of the month, the second last night.

As I read last night, I was again struck with how much Edge and Idumea resemble America today. The government exists only because we pay for it; without us, they are nothing. And our children aren’t their responsibility, they are ours. The Creator/our God has given them to us parents as a stewardship, not to the government. I’m encouraged to see parents standing up around the country to school boards complaining about questionable teaching practices.

There’s an ancient saying that vaguely sounds like a nicety, but is actually a curse, and we’re definitely living it now: “May you live in interesting times.”

I feel deeply it’s only going to get more interesting. We’ll make it through together!