It’s fascinating to watch people suddenly clam up when they’re hit with the truth. What they do next is very telling. They’ll either dance in a frantic way to jig around what was said, or they’ll outright deny it with avoidance or accusations, or they’ll ponder in silence then thoughtfully say, “You may be on to something . . .”
I know I’ve done all three when hit with a truth I wasn’t expecting. Surprise makes us stumble. But I’ve always felt the most at peace when I consider that maybe I was wrong, and that maybe the other person is on to something.
There’s even an audio component, too, if you want to listen to my dulcet tones put you to sleep for 40 minutes. Apparently my 10th graders love it when I read to them. They say it’s the best nap they get all day in school.
I can think of too many situations where this is accurate, from politics to governments to societies: those who are “protecting” us are actually controlling us.
Anything that restricts your freedom, your ability to question, or your desire to think deeply is a potential prison.
Any society, government, or school of thought should be able to withstand scrutiny. In fact, it will welcome it as a way of evaluating weaknesses to turn them to strengths.
Where can we improve?
What’s not fully understood?
What have we misunderstood?
How do we rectify this error?
But groups that scream loudly for you to shut up, that won’t allow you to question premises, that suppress new ideas, that demand your conformity while claiming their diversity are hiding fundamental weaknesses they’re terrified someone will discover.
Escape, as fast as you can.
Get the prequel The Walls in the Middle of Idumea here!
If you’ve ever dealt with early teens, you know exactly what I’m talking about. Nothing is more worrying than a thirteen-year-old wanting to help in the kitchen or the garage (except trying to teach a sixteen-year-old to drive a car).
They want to use knives, or Kitchenaide mixers, or power tools, or axes, and you smile encouragingly but subtly reach for the box of bandaids, hoping you won’t have to call 911.
Even Perrin Shin was once a gangly, floppy creature. That should give us all hope for our youth. Nearly all of them outgrow it.
Nearly.
Get the prequel The Walls in the Middle of Idumea here!
I had an acquaintance who was paralyzed by her own doubts. When she felt the prompting to do something for someone, she’d second guess and third guess until it was too late.
For example, once she felt a new mom in her neighborhood was overwhelmed, and she decided to bring her over a package of newborn diapers and some treats. But at the store she was torn with indecision about what brand of diapers to buy: the no-name brand, like she used for her own kids but might make her look “cheap,” or the fancier brand, which she feared the new mother might think she was being a show-off.
She eventually bought both brands, then fretted about delivering them. She put it off and put it off until the baby was no longer the newborn and was wearing size 3 diapers.
This woman later said, “I was too focused about doing the right thing in the ‘wrong’ way, then I was too focused about how I’d come off, rather than focusing on the person who was in need. In the end, I never gave her any diapers, which I heard later she really could have used since she’d had to quit work for two months after having the baby, and her income was nearly nothing. She wouldn’t have cared about the brand, just about being loved.”
Below is my all-time favorite Christmas song and video about just doing something, the best way you can:
I missed posting yesterday, and I could use the excuse that I was merely exercising my freedom not to. But the truth is that teaching school (door decorating contests get pretty intense around here) and being in charge of a church dinner (we made the ham, funeral potatoes–best dish in the world–salads, centerpieces and dessert) packed my day and evening.
Am I forced to live a busy life? Good gravy, no.
I choose it. I love it.
I love teaching, although the month of December is incredibly distracting to students.
I love serving the tiny branch of my church.
I love choosing my life, doing what I think and believe is the best.
Fight to have the freedom to choose your own life, and the bravery to demand that freedom.
Get the prequel The Walls in the Middle of Idumea here!
Thank you for downloading the FREE PREQUEL! Several hundred copies have already flown through cyberspace, and since digital downloads can’t “sell out” you can get as many copies as you want. Great as a gift or to introduce someone to the series. Only Saturday and Sunday, Dec. 7 and 8!
Here’s the kind of mixed metaphors you can expect in a book that will not only entertain but also make you hungry. (Probably not the best combination, but oh well.)
What readers are saying:
“The Walls in the Middle of Idumea is a great prequel and supplement to the rest of the Forest at the Edge series. Trish Mercer is still one of my favourite authors, with her skill for weaving humour, sadness, truth and hope together to create an incredible story. This book works perfectly on its own, but I also really enjoyed the references to characters that become a big part of the rest of the series.”
“. . . like all the books in this series it is entertaining, uplifting, and wholesome. There’s an actual story and it manages to be compelling without anything graphic. Highly recommend all of her books.”
“Pere Shin was a fascinating and, yes, a flawed protagonist. He sensed that a grievous wrong was perpetuating in the mansion and took the steps that his heart and gut feelings pressed upon him. Integrity wins.”
Yes, another food-based analogy, because Pere Shin is diet-driven.
The insult referring to someone as “milquetoast” (an old cartoon character name) never made sense to me.
But to equate someone to oatmeal? What could be more bland, lumpy, tasteless, and disappointing?
(Seriously, I don’t mean to belittle oatmeal. It can’t help being so blah. I do like it, though, when it’s made one part oatmeal+one part brown sugar=one “healthy” breakfast.)