benighted (bi-NYT-id) adjective

1. Intellectually, morally, or socially ignorant; unenlightened.

2. Overtaken by night or darkness.

It is sad to me that by and large Christians are benighted about their own faith. Though listening to the “intellectuals” propound their theories and what not as Mel Gibson’s film opens, I can understand why. They rely far too much on their own thinking and not on God’s.

Once again history repeats itself. Christ himself condemned the religious leaders of his day because they got away from the scriptures and were teaching “the commands of men as doctrine.”

Man is still overly interested in his own thoughts, his own ideas of right and wrong, making up his mind as to what he should or should not do, instead of trusting in a Creator to help him. Which creates a vicious, vicious circle, because when man claims to follow God but acts under his own wisdom, and it is God who gets the bad rap when things turn out horribly. When God’s instructions are followed, they work for our good. I’m reminded of the fruitages of the spirit—love, joy, peace, long-suffering, kindness, goodness, faith, mildness and self-control. Against these things there is no law. So every time we exercise these traits and someone tells us that we are mistaken or misguided because of doing so, who are we going to believe? God or man? On the other hand, the fruitages of the flesh include things like divisions, sects, drunken bouts, revelries, contentions—I don’t know these by heart, but I’m thinking that perhaps I should. Because maybe I’m not avoiding them enough if I don’t know what they are! These things are outlawed. But when a human says there are instances in which these things are to be exercised, who are we going to believe? God or man?

Given man’s track record I think I’m going to side with God here.

But at times that brings me under man’s criticism and condemnation. Yes, that’s true. But in the end, who can give me more? God or man? Whatever man may take from me, God can give back. After all, the contention as set forth in Job is that man will worship God—i.e. do things God’s way—as long as it is easy for him. But give him up a hearty helping of suffering along with this service, and the service will be abandoned. That was the contention. So all those who serve God in spite of ridicule or condemnation by man are proving the Slanderer to be the liar that he is. There are those who will do what God asks of them, even when it’s not popular. And they won’t take to the streets or seek vengeance for what’s done to them because of their integrity. They believe what God says when he assures them, “Vengeance is mine. I will repay.”

Not to mention the fact that I don’t want to be held accountable when God starts calling to account those who claim to represent him but who are really misrepresenting everything he stands for.

God is just. He balances his justice with wisdom (wisdom unlike any man can have), love, and power. He has the power to execute perfect justice—another thing that is beyond mankind’s ability. He exercises mercy to the degree that doesn’t infringe on what he has promised to those who love him—that is loyal love. When things rest in his hands they are done right.

So are we to sit back on our hands and do nothing in this time of turmoil and strife? Absolutely not. Our best course of action is to obey the example of Christ and tell others about what will finally bring an end to all suffering and pain in a permanent way, that being the kingdom that we are taught to pray for and to preach. But then we get into the realm of government, which in the end is really religion, isn’t it? Maybe that’s why we have such a hard time talking about either. The thing is when you start talking about a change in government, it makes those in power very, very nervous. Which again is history repeating itself, is it not? Interesting how this all falls back on itself, the past having set the example of what to expect in the present. God does a mighty educational work through his Word. It’s up to us to read it and learn what is really there, instead of relying on someone else to tell us what we should and shouldn’t believe in the name of God.

potvaliant (POT-val-iant) adjective, also pot-valiant

Showing courage under the influence of drink.
Such courage is also known as Dutch courage.

Interesting word. I'm wondering if you could skew the meaning just a bit and use it to describe a character who showed false courage that wasn't bolstered by alcohol necessarily, but perhaps another less-than-desireable catalyst. Like anger.

People use alcohol to get them through all sorts of things, so it's not surprising that it is used to get through situations that require courage. The more I think about it, the more I wonder if alcoholism isn't a search for courage. The prop is used to get past something--whether it's personality difficulties, or economic/physical/mental difficulties. People who get trained to use a more socially acceptable prop usually fare better when they're trying to quit an addiction--whether it's alcohol or anything else. Generally an addiction is replaced before it is overcome. If it is ever overcome.

Potvaliant. I have in mind a young man in a grey Civil War uniform who signed up at the beginning of the war when emotions were running high and it was the noble, correct thing for an upstanding, healthy young man to do. Back when the war was sure to be short-lived and successful. Then the years stretch on and on. He can't quit. He can't do less than his best. He makes his way up in ranks, but honestly hates every minute. After he's seen friends die. Or worse seen them return home maimed and broken. Those ones are the ones he envies, but he cannot find a way that his conscience will allow him to quit the task he's taken up.

Then he discovers the power of drink. That it can soothe his restless mind and let him sleep. That it can help him forget the horrors of what he endures--and let him sleep. That it will allow him to lead his men into the next fray with a confident voice and hands that don't shake in terror. Only they do shake. He just thinks they don't.

In the end, what happens to this young man? Does he survive and find himself to be potvaliant for the rest of his life? Is that the greater battle in the end? Why would he fight it? What would the stakes be that would make him seek out true courage.

Interesting story ideas???? No stealing! You know what, I'm not worried. Even if one of you readers took this idea and ran with it, we'd still come up with two different stories. I'm willing to bet on that!

excerebrose (eks-SER-ee-bros) adjective

Brainless.

To not listen to your gut is excerebrose.

I envy my son who has grown up with a healthy dose of confidence. When his gut speaks, he listens. If he's full, he stops eating. If the song seems wrong, he changes the channel--he doesn't care who is or is not there. If it seems dangerous, he'll be careful. Not lazy or cowed, but careful and determined. He is not excerebrose.

Now I did an excerebrose thing on my vacation and it came close to ruining it. I didn't listen to my gut.

I have never had on a pair of skis in my entire life. Never. And I'm a control freak. I've learn that by being married. So put me on skis and the one thing I'm fighting for is control. As long as I don't have control, I'm uncomfortable, nervous, prone to panic.

So what is the best thing for me to do? Take a lesson. I knew that from the start.

Then our dear friend says to my frugal husband, "There are several in the group who haven't skied before. We're going to spend half of the first day getting them started. We'll say everything a ski instructor will say and it will be free."

Well, I am not really excerebrose, but I have to learn things my own way in my own time. Two of the phrases I am determined to strike from my teaching vocabulary are: "All you have to do is..." or "you just...[do this/that/etc.]." It's too easy to assume that your student has a knowledge base that seems natural to have. I didn't have that knowledge base, the instructions for skiing were too simplistic--I didn't even know what questions to ask. And I needed to stay on terrain where I was comfortable.

But there are all these experienced people saying, "The only way to learn it is to feel it, so get on the lift."

My gut said no. I should have listened to it. I needed the practice on something gentle--something that didn't need a lift to negotiate. I needed that control--and I could have discovered it on a surface not as steep and in a situation that didn't lend itself to panic. I was excerebrose to ignore that gut. I got on the lift, which I must add was moving at the speed of life. I swear it. And I made a less than graceful exit, and destroyed every bit of confidence, raised the fear level to extreme and there I was without the tools to get down safely either. I don't mind falling, I don't mind speed, I just have to know how to control both or I panic.

So was the entire trip an excerebrose venture? Absolutely not. I had to sit out the other days with a twisted knee, but my creativity had a field day--two actually. I soaked in details, I watched people, I read books, I jotted phrases when they came to me. I watched my boys--all three of them--have the time of their life, and then the cherry on top was when my dear husband arranged for a snowmobile ride to the top of the Continental Divide for me so that I wouldn't miss the view.

I have to learn to listen to my gut. But as I write I think what I need to do is not just listen, but honor, and MAKE other people understand that I know what's best for me. If I had been more vocal, perhaps more clear in why I needed smaller hills, more time, then I would have gotten assistance rather than insistance that I go beyond my comfort level too soon. But even if I didn't, I have to know how to stand my ground in the face of opposition. To do otherwise is excerebrose.

It's great to be home!!! I did write EVERY DAY while I was gone. Just had to use pen and paper.