How Hot Are the Hub-caps of Hell?

Tonight was the traditional torch light parade and bonfire as a part of Homecoming Week Festivities.  It was a blast as four hundred torches lit up the sky and blazed through the path, seeking to dispel all darkness and all thoughts of the Red Devils losing on Saturday.

(Yes, the Eureka [Christian] College mascot is the Red Devil.  What perfect Disciples humor, eh?)

As we got to the massive bonfire and it came time to throw my torch in, I had the thought that I always do when I step close enough to feel a bonfire: “Is this what Hell feels like?”

I can attribute this thought to my good friend Colin Earle, who was speaking at Steffani Silva’s sixteenth birthday party.  As part of her large party, she wanted a huge bonfire that rivaled the size of the Eureka fire I had tonight.  The party-goers could not stand within ten or fifteen feet due to the excessive heat.  As clear as water, I remember Colin saying, “I wonder if this is what the Hell is like?”

Little did they know that I was undergoing a large faith crisis at the time, so his words cut me up like a knife and I stared in awe at the fire that could be the fate for my soul. (Interesting enough, it was a rainy day when Steffani had her party.  She was freaking out, and, knowing me for the good Christian chap that I am, asked me to say a prayer to make the rain go away.  I did, but I felt very hypocritical doing it.)

I still wonder if that is what Hell is.  Is it that massive bonfire that scorches the skin?  Are souls like chickens roasted over a spit?  Is there such a thing as Hell in the first place?  An even harder question is: if there is, would it necessarily be how we conceptualize it? 

I think that Hell, assuming its existence, is much more based on the idea of utter loneliness.  It would be a separation from love in every definition and left with the cold dregs of hate, anger, fear, and jealousy.  There are things worse than physical pain.

           

Would my faith change if I didn’t believe in Hell?  Is it necessary?  Why does it exist?  Such questions, such a puny amount of answers.

An Interesting Story

“You know, it’s an interesting story,” is how most of my tales start out.  Sometimes the story is indeed interesting and sometimes, well, it’s not.  However, I will say that all of my stories are interesting to me, it is others who find them disenchanting. 

So this blog will be interesting too.  I was speaking to Meme the other day about one of my papers for English.  It was about money and the traditional American dream based on two articles, one “A Lavish Wedding Costs More Than You Think” and the other “Her Body, My Baby”.  “A Lavish Wedding” is about how the typical wedding costs are actually much higher because of the money that could have been made if the $17,000 median wedding expenses had been invested.  The second article “Her Baby, My Body” was about a woman who had a baby with the help of a surrogate.  Both are good articles, one based on numbers, the other on more “matters of the heart”.  In my work, I asked the question why people are willing to pay so much for weddings and babies, and if the answer to that is that Americans are trying to spend their way into happiness and/or attempting to buy the American Dream.  It was a delightful paper to write, and I sincerely hope that my professor will see it the same way and grade it accordingly (thankfully she is relatively easy graders SO… we will see…).

After Meme proof-read my paper (at which she is almost too good having spent so many years as a secretary; she frequently texts me my grammatical mistakes in my blogs as well) we discussed whether she thought what I said was true.  She believed that the large wedding costs in our culture were due to “Keeping up with the Joneses” syndrome.  We talked on a bit before I said that it would follow that she would perceive it that way as she and Papa eloped.  It suddenly dawned on me that EVERYONE who raised me had eloped.  Mom and Dad… Meme Janice and Papa Ted… Meme Jayne and Papa Jack... Effie and Lloyd.  Why was my life filled with quickie weddings??  I guess that they were rebels in their time… or cheap… or just in it for the love.  Who knows?

So that was my short and interesting story for you BUT! I have a request.  I have to write a LARGE information paper and argumentative paper over a topic related to marriage and/or family.  SO, if you have an idea, please comment it below, Facebook it to me, email it to me, text it to me, snail mail it to me, or simply call me and tell me what a good thing to research would be.  I have a few ideas, but I would love a few more to broaden my perspective before I choose the topic that I will write 45% of my English Writing grade over. 

Thanks!

Clott

Do It Right

Here in the real world…

Thankfully this academic week is pretty easy schmeasy.  I only had one English class, today, and it was a mid-term exam.  It is a small grade per the entire course and I think I did okay on the paper we had to revise. We had written a paper in the first week of class and today’s test was on revision of ideas.  I kinda think I did better the first time… but I hope not!  Spanish was decent and nothing big there either, Modern Philosophy is normal, and Greek is not expected to throw any curveballs, except perhaps a quiz on Thursday.  Freshman Seminar has no homework until next week- SO I get to catch up, get ahead, and breathe.  It feels nice to do that every now and then.

So this week, with all my extra spare time, I am filling it (mostly) with hat making.  I really enjoy the knitting of the hats as it is not only calming but very productive.  Right now I am in a race against the clock to finish as many of these hats in maroon and gold for Saturday’s homecoming game!  I hope to finish five before Saturday, which is $50 for the Eureka Heart House as well as five hats displaying that good ole Eureka pride.

My dearest Meme has had an interesting role in this.  Meme crocheted afghans at the earliest I can remember (she stopped after I was about five or so) and had lots of advice.  Her most important was, “If you screw up, go back and fix it.  If you’re gonna do, make sure you do it right!”

My, “It’s only charity!” excuse didn’t fly with her.  After I digested what she told me, I discerned her to be right (Meme- I don’t say it often, keep this comment near and dear to your heart).  So the hat I was working on soon became garbage when I noticed that I skipped three stiches down towards the bottom.  It didn’t become garbage until I tried to “fix” it and the hat became unraveled.  Oh the trials and tribulations of learning a new craft!

It rained here considerably today.  I feel bad when the folks here go complaining about it, knowing how many farmers in Oklahoma need the rain like most people need a paycheck.  If you, my blogging community, could, please keep praying for rain.  Also, please pray for Kathy Standridge and Chitwood Farms, because they have been holding out for some of “that wet stuff from the sky” and I know they are hurting bad for it. 

That is all from my lofty position in Darst 202.  Have a wonderful day/night and remember- if you want/need a hat- I can make it with my hands and love for the low low price of $10!!!  Start thinking of Christmas now!

Returning With a New Bag of Tricks!

Back to normalcy I come!  “The Week” finally wrapped up, my professors hold my (hopefully graded with A+) papers, and the two exams I had took the sweat, blood, and tears right out of me, but they too, hopefully, have beautiful A’s.  There is no letter prettier, after all.

Although, I must say, grades look different to me now.  Grades still have importance in my education, do not get me wrong, but I look at them with less meaning. Instead of viewing grades as almost a competition, I see them as bars by which I can judge my performance.  If I get a B, I get a B; however, it simply means “try harder”.  I’m trying as hard as I can, so I want the A’s, but I refuse to freak out over all the other letters.  Except F, I will throw myself into a tizzy over an F, and probably a D.  In fact, a C would get me down… Maybe I am not quite as reformed as I thought!

Some of this stems from how much I love my classes.  I would not trade for the world what I am learning now.  It captivates me, it enlightens me, and I am amazed at the knowledge I bring back home every single day.  I could flunk and still be happy with the education I received at Eureka College because of how it has already changed my life.  Not that I am going to flunk out because that would mean school would no longer be an option and I DO like me some school.

In other news, I knitted my first hat today!  It made me quite excited.  I did it through Bearded Men Knitting Hats.  BMKS is a student group that celebrates “No Shave November” by having bearded guys break stereotypes and knit hats to sell for $10.  The money raised goes to the Eureka Heart House, which is a home for domestic abuse victims and the homeless of the community.  Breaking down societal barriers to break down economic barriers sounds like my kind of program!

To be honest, I did not set out to join this group.  One of the sophomore ministry fellows, Zane, started the program. I thought it was a worthy program, so I donated a bit of my “God Money” (my tithe and offering) to the group to do some of that good Jesus Work.  Then Zane asked me to come to the knitting lesson today.  Not only is it another skill I get to learn, but I get to help people.  How awesome?!  I am on cloud nine right now.

Speaking of skills, I have also started to learn the piano.  My good friend, Belle from New Zealand, is my teacher.  She plays so beautifully, and she is really quite the professor.  Not that she acts necessarily friendly whilst teaching, but she surely gets the job done efficiently!  I can now play “Old MacDonald”.  I have yet to learn “Mary Had a Little Lamb,” I suppose the lamb is still on Old MacDonald’s farm.

So, while my week was not the most fun, I enjoyed life even more.  I missed you, my blogging community.  I hope that in the week that I haven’t got to talk to you, you all have not deserted me.

With God’s peace and love,

Clott

P.S.- Hand knitted hats for $10!  Colors are pick-able, and all money goes to a good cause.  Contact me if you are interested by phone, commenting, or by emailing: coldlott@gmail.com

Persecution

Sorry to all of my readers for not writing the last couple of days.  My grandparents came in and I politely spend the time with them instead; I hope that nobody minded too much.  All is well, mostly anyhow.

I may not get a blog in every day this coming week; I have three essays and two tests in the next six days, so I’m just slightly (read: all out, freak out) nervous and rather busy.  So patience, definitely need a bit of patience.  And prayer never hurt anybody.

Today Meme and I went to the Morton Pumpkin Festival, which is allegedly the largest Pumpkin Festival in the United States, if I understand right.  In reality it was just a community event that involved a lot of pumpkins but most of all a well-organized chamber of commerce.  The Morton Chamber of Commerce directs the event and they couldn’t do a better job with arranging all the pumpkin foods, craft show, carnival rides, and parade.  They did well, and it’s a well-oiled machine.  I give them a definite A+.

However, there was one odd moment.  When we were walking back to my car to head back to Meme and Papa’s hotel room, we went by the path of the parade.  The TEA Party float was going by and they were shouting their views and values.  As they passed by, people would clap and cheer and the head shouter-lady would scream back, “Protect our values!  Defend our constitution!  Join the TEA Party!” 

I was wearing my Ada High School Young Democrats shirt.

I carefully walked in front of the people who were cheering against my political beliefs and I felt afraid for a moment- you never know how mob mentality will work.  Seriously though, I realized for the first time that my political beliefs are more persecuted than my religious ones.  I’m not sure how to feel about that.  In one sense I am happy because it is nice to not be persecuted about one facet of myself.  However, what about liberal Muslims who live in the corn (or oil) fields? 

Chaplain Bruce was speaking about a conversation he had had recently (or maybe he had read an article) that Muslims, “Stay inside on 9/11 at all cost.  They fear being persecuted.”  Where has our society gone?  Where are the Christian values of “turning the other cheek?” Where is our moral compass with the persecuted?  Where is our love of ALL God’s children?  Where is any of Christ?

I’d like to think that the (low) percentage of terrorist Muslims is equal to the number of Christian war-hawks/bigots.  I do not know if I’m right, I hope for the sake of America and Christians as a whole that I am right.    

After all this, where do Christians stand, really?  Are we in solidarity with our neighbor or on the line with rocks in hand?

Now That I Have My Mouth Open... What Do I Do With My Foot?

Another day has come and gone and still I remain standing.  I received some work back and I feel slightly more confident and slightly more nervous.  I had an Ancient Greek quiz today that I do NOT feel confident about… we’ll see how that goes…  I also have my first “real” essay due in Modern Philosophy next Tuesday.  My stomach knots up whenever I think about it.

On another note, Meme and Papa are coming this weekend to visit!  It was a surprise to me last night when they called asking if this upcoming weekend would be a good time to come, but now that it is all settled, I’m very excited.  It’ll be a very fun weekend.  I certainly love my grandparents.  (And they obviously love me to drive 702 miles!)

To those of you who replied to yesterday’s blog about what should my response be to Pontiac…  I wrote the Pastor back.  I thanked him for his letter and told him about my goal to visit all 23 churches in my area, but I did tell him how Pontiac captured my heart and that I would be back sooner than I had originally anticipated.  I went on to say that I would probably be back to visit my new friends in Pontiac in early October.  I thought it was a nice compromise that satisfied both sides fighting within me.

So today’s story of the day starts with an observation.  There is more cigarette smoking here.  I do not know if it is Illinois based, or simply college based; my guess is that it is college related as for the first time I am around people who can all legally buy tobacco.  However, every time I see one of my peers puffing away, it makes me a little sad.  It is little pieces of life that they are inhaling and exhaling mixed with the toxic chemicals, nicotine, and other various things in the drag off of a cigarette. 

Anyhow, I was walking to my car to investigate a hotel Meme had found on the internet when my friend was sitting with two girls who were taking a smoke break.  He called out, “It doesn’t rub off, come over for a minute!”

So I walked over, and we talked for a minute.  We actually discussed, kinda lightly, smoking as a habit and how that contrasted with “social smoking”.  My friend believed that I thought negatively on smoking and he seemed to want my opinion on what I thought about smoking.  (I used the word “seemed” because I cannot remember if he specifically asked me or if it was intended for it to be said, but I would not have said the following without an invitation of some sort.)

“Well, I don’t think badly of smokers, I just think smoking is plebian.”  My friend, who was an extremely rare smoker it came to be known, just looked at me and said, “Ouch!” 

I wrote off this experience as yet another example of when opinions are best kept to ourselves and that what we think other people want (or what they think they want, as well) is often the exact opposite of what they wanted you to say.  Oh well, for better or worse, I have said far worse things. 

The Kink In My Plan

Today has been a good day insofar.  The Campus Activities Board brought in “Wax to the Max” which is a free craft for students to participate in.  Basically, you dunk your hand(s) into warm wax and it holds a pose.  For my hand I did a jolly Oklahoma “OK”. 

I tried to get creative and do it in multiple colors, but I failed.

Other than that, classes went swimmingly and I think I may have my HELM project in the works.  I’m pretty sure it will be similar to Last Sunday Supper, but it may take on a more environmental and health conscious mission. 

The only “kink” comes in the form of a letter.  As some of you may remember, over Labor Day I visited the First Christian Church of Pontiac (following worship I went to the Threshermen’s Parade).  Today I received a letter from the minister, Pastor Jerry, in which he not only invited me to come back, but asked that I come to Sunday School to share with the class my “presence and perspectives”.  He’s really a swell guy, but to prove his intent, he wrote that he would ensure that the cost of gas would be reimbursed.

So what do I do?  I have a church that would benefit exponentially from my presence; however, I decided weeks ago not to settle down until I completed my entire list of 23 churches (which I didn’t get to work on this Sunday, I went to Eureka Christian Church’s “First Light” service at 8:15).  Do I quit my list?  Do I decline to Pastor Jerry?  Do I compromise and go to Pontiac on a semi-regular basis? 

SO!  I actually need advice… as much as you want to give, and as many people want to give it, I’ll certainly take it!  I’m torn between what I want, what my true goal is, what they need, and most of all what God wants me to do in this situation. 

It’s not a crisis by any means, indeed, it is a good thing!  I just would appreciate a little opinion.

Although I will say that if all churches were so giving and friendly, it might make a difference.  Inviting someone to the parade, or to lunch, or just to be a part of your family is what makes them part of your family.  Just as we love because God first loved us (1 John 4:19), they might love if we first love them.  Food for thought.