Operation Brighten Your Corner

Operation Beautiful. Have you heard of it? The inspiration is quite delightful, the sort of thing that brings a smile to your face just thinking of it. It is an inspiration in stark contrast to the frown-inducing demeanor of many in our culture that you’ll experience at grocery stores and freeways. I stumbled across the website of this operation a few weeks ago and was quite intrigued. Here’s the idea: to leave anonymous post-it notes in random places all over—the more unexpected, the better. A note on a diaper changing station in a Wal-Mart restroom saying, “You are a good mom.” A piece of paper on a mirror in a school bathroom to tell the students, “You are beautiful.” How lovely would it be to walk into such a place and find a message telling you that you are beautiful!

As I said, the idea intrigued me, and I laud those who are putting it into practice, but somehow it doesn’t seem enough. Is it possible that someone telling her she is beautiful is all a woman wants or needs? Don’t get me wrong—I want girls and women and you to know that you are beautiful. But somehow, just giving that bit on a piece of paper seems too shallow—too little too late. The scribbling of an anonymous encourager may bring a smile for a few hours, but it would be all too temporary, I’m afraid. Proverbs 31:30, the verse we’ve all heard a thousand times, does say, “Charm is deceitful, and beauty is vain, but a woman who fears the Lord, she shall be praised.” Don’t misunderstand: encouragement—the motivation behind Operation Beautiful—is something we can all do more of, but the purpose of the operation lacks one important facet: Christ. So let's take it further.  Why simply say, “You are beautiful,” on a note, going only skin-deep, when you can say, “You are beautiful in the eyes of Christ” or “Jesus still would have died for you if you had been the only one in the world”?

So if Operation Beautiful is heading in the right direction, just not to the right destination, then perhaps it is time to form our own operation, one to combat all the frustration and sorrow so many feel, even though they are told they are beautiful. What about “Operation Brighten Your Corner”?

I know—I’m waxing all official and ceremonial on you, but I can’t help it because I’m so delighted by the exciting-ness of this idea.

First, let’s get the blunt details out of the way.

The hours are long—extending to midnight laundry sessions and early morning devotions—and the pay delayed perhaps until you reach Headquarters. Bear in mind that this operation is not based on energy conservation. Rather, the success of Operation Brighten Your Corner depends on giving out as much energy as possible in order to result in the entire globe being covered in light. But know that as a missionary of Operation Brighten Your Corner you have no ability to light any lights or spread any flame by yourself. You do, however, have the Holy Spirit—the only match that can light the lights and spread the brightness (Acts 1:8, John 14:26). You, in turn, as an instrument of Christ, must dedicate your entire life to this Operation.

This enterprise does offer its recruits immense creativity, however, encouraging them to utilize their specific talents in serving through the Holy Spirit’s power to create light. Sometimes, though, Operation Brighten Your Corner is more about cleaning up vomit than it is about performing on a stage. And you have to be all right with that. Philippians 2:14-15, this Operation’s theme verse, says, “Do all things without murmuring and disputing, that you may become blameless and harmless, children of God without fault in the mids of a crooked and perverse eneration, among whom you shine as lights in the world.”

But the real truth of the matter is that if you are a born again Christian, you have already signed up for Operation Brighten Your Corner. You may have been a deserter for the last couple of hours (or days, or months), but that only means you must pick up where you left off. Or you may have been a faithful worker for a long time now and monotony is sneaking in, but that just means you need encouragement and refreshment from the Word if you want to continue fulfilling your mission. Whether you’re in Washington state, Africa, Kansas, or Australia, won’t you purposefully, resolutely, and daily labor for Operation Brighten Your Corner? You can start by sharing ideas you have used to spread God’s light in the comments below.

Who knows—maybe the world will soon realize that “this little light of mine” isn’t quite so little after all!

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The Man of My Dreams

Night was falling fast; it was already dusk, and frogs began to warble, and the crickets chirruped their pleading, dissonant chant. The moon was slowly rising above the little hill, and the field of wild sunflowers was slowly shrinking into the shadows as each pretty head drooped downwards for a pleasant rest. As the oldest of the six brown-haired kids clustered around the murky pond, I reckoned that it was my responsibility to give them the ending signal.

"Come on guys,” I said, breaking through the night’s enchanting sounds. “It's time to go in.”

“Aw, please Amy? We only got three tadpoles,” Joe, eleven years old, protested.

But I stood firm, and soon had them all herded into the house—quite a feat actually. Mom was waiting for us. She efficiently whisked the protesting young ones away to bed, and stillness soon blanketed the house.

I had the unspoken duty of taking care of the tadpole triplets, so I poured the squirming bodies into a bowl full of creek water and placed it on the counter. Eventually, I made it upstairs to the attic-style room that I shared with the second oldest, Beth. The hot room smelled of nail polish and bleach, so the window was wide open, filling the room with a glorious night-time perfume. Beth was already asleep, her chest moving up and down with each deep, loud breath.

I was just falling asleep myself when I felt a startling jab on my back. I jerked around to see what it was, only to find Sam, my three year-old brother; he gazed up at me precociously, his eyes rounder than any I had ever seen before.

“Can I sleep wif you?” He asked, climbing into bed without waiting for an answer. I sighed, and then smiled, resigning myself to company for the evening.

“Come on Sammy. Snuggle under.” I tucked my blankets around him and me.

A few seconds of blissful peace ensued, during which my energetic thoughts became increasingly more fuzzy and incoherent, and my heavy eyes began to droop. Instantly they shot open again when Sammy’s voice rang out. “Tell me a story,” he commanded.

My older-sister instincts kicked in. “No hon, not now,” I soothed. “Right now is bedtime, not story time.”

Sam didn’t like that very much; he begged, pleaded, berated, and abused, becoming so loud and downright annoying that he woke up Beth. But I finally managed to get him to settle down, threatening him with every applicable punishment that I could think of. Again the room was quiet, but now I couldn’t sleep. My thoughts persisted in rolling around each other, like the numbers in a bingo spinner.

“Sammy,” I whispered at one point, “are you still mad at me?”

“Yes,” came the brusque answer.

"Don’t you love me anymore?” I continued, trying to get him to break down and forgive me.

“No. And I won’t pick you any more flower, ‘cause you won’t tell me a story,” he replied, in a shrill voice.

I knew that he would forget the whole thing by morning, as he always did—but I still wished that he wouldn’t get so angry with me. In the end I gave up and rolled over onto my stomach to try and get some sleep. Sammy had crept all the way on the other side of the bed with his back to me; now he pulled all the blankets on top of him, and I was left shivering in the cold draft coming from the window.

For the third time that night, I was almost asleep, until a little hand crept across my back, encircling me in its embrace. This time I forgot any annoyance and was instead filled with elation.

“I love you,” I whispered hopefully into deep blue darkness.

“I love you too.”

“Are you still mad at me?”

“No-oo.”

I lay there for a while, grateful for a brother, however young, who loved me. I thought about my girlfriends, some already flirting and going out with boys. Why did I need to, when I had a cute boy who would put his chubby arms around me, stroke my long brown hair, and tell me that he loved me? I decided then and there that if I ever married someday, it would be to the same kind of a man: warm, friendly, comfortable, and unconditionally loving. Someone that you didn’t have to flirt and put on a show for. With a peaceful darkness enveloping the room and the stars shining through the window like glistening glass shrapnel on velvet, I leaned over and softly kissed Sam, assuming that he was asleep by then. But he opened one bright eye to look at me.

“I’ll pick you a flower t’morrow, Amy,” he mumbled. I smiled, sleep forgotten; that was the icing on the cake.

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The Greatest Musical Discovery Since the Invention of the Violin

I have always been fascinated with the idea of singing the Psalms.  How beautiful they are, how poetic, how musical and heart-gripping!  Through the years, of course, various and sundry melodies have been composed for different Psalms, but have you ever wondered what melody David sang his Psalms to?  How did it sound when the Israelites sang a melancholy song of repentance as they were led to Babylon in captivity?  Or when Jesus sang a hymn with His disciples right before His time of greatest grief and suffering, what music did they use to sing the words of Scripture?  If you have ever wondered this, then take a look at this fascinating video!  While taking a music history class some time ago, I stumbled across this clip that makes the intriguing case for the original music being contained in the Hebrew manuscripts!  Did you know there were characters in the Hebrew manuscripts, the meaning of which even the scholars are unsure of?  Did you know that one Suzanne Haik-Vantoura, born in 1912, believed she discovered the original meaning?

Watch this video, hear the traditional Jewish melodies as compared to the meditational melodies based on the mysterious Hebrew characters, and decide for yourself!  Mrs. Haik-Vantoura's work is controversial among scholars, but that does nothing to negate the music you are about to hear and the story you are about to learn.  Let me know what you think, but I know that goosebumps were prominent on my arms when I first heard this hauntingly beautiful music!

For more information, check out Suzanne Haik-Vantoura's book and cd. 

When Good Men Do Nothing

…We are at war now, and the entire world seems to misunderstand our purpose—to avenge our country for the wrongdoing done to her. I am patriotic, though I may not agree with the direction my country is going, but I certainly understand the premise of it. Prices continue to rise as depression gets worse—if that’s indeed possible. Many people are suffering.

These modern times—they produce so many moral dilemmas, I never could have imagined. I see Christians lying, scheming, spying, and plotting assassination of our leader. And I wonder—does the circumstance make these actions righteous? It’s all so confusing and complicated, that I try to stay out of it as much as possible. Certainly, there is great suffering around me, and I do my best to alleviate that suffering in any way I can, but there’s only so much one can do! I’m afraid if I get mixed up in all this confusion…

…And so the insanity continues. I never hear anything, know next to nothing—the news cannot be trusted, certainly, though we continue to pay attention in hopes of finding a glimpse of truth. Cousin is rabidly political and involved in the conservative movement, though, and he keeps us updated occasionally, when we do happen to see him. He seems to think himself and his work much more important than it is in actuality, but I let him continue to dream.

Cousin Martin…is dead. And, although I admire his bravery more than ever, and mourn his death intensely, I cannot help but be even more convinced that to live quietly and at peace with all men is my calling right now. To love God—fear His commandments, and love my neighbor as myself. What more can I do?

…Friends disappear, and food-fights (for food, not with food) are all too common. Threat of bombing is ever in our minds, and near-children are being carted off for military duty. Many acquaintances have become consumed with this moment in time. They cannot look back at the great heritage that will carry us through—nor can they look forward to the promise of future. Instead, they are obsessed with the little events of the here and now. They go into a flutter at a new draft age…they get red and hot at the news of another round-up of political enemies. They become all action, breaking their health even, when the latest threat of some progressive action comes out. Sometimes, one really must wonder if they are patriots at all. If they even believe in our country anymore, or if they are just enemies that really should be rounded up during this delicate time of war.

And just like that, all is quiet. The bombs have stopped, the marching has ceased, and the midnight collections are a thing of the past. So many…so many have lost their lives these past six years. I tear up just thinking of it. And if they had only waited! If they had only had the foresight to see that all would eventually right itself, and that good would triumph over evil.

I have just learned of the most tragic news. Unbeknownst to me—unbeknownst to thousands of my countrymen, it has come out that millions of political prisoners, of Jews, and of religious people were murdered during this time of war. I cannot describe my agony upon hearing…I didn’t know. I honestly had no idea. And yet…and yet…I knew what was wrong. I knew the regime was wrong. I knew Hitler was evil. I was so intent upon saving my life, that I have lost my soul. What was it I wrote those six years ago? “I’m afraid if I get mixed up this confusion…” I meant, that I thought I would lose my soul if I got mixed up in this confusion. But by keeping quiet, by living in as much peace as I could manage, I really have lost my soul. That is the great tragedy I shall have to live with all my life—that I could have done something, and I did nothing.

I was reading in Numbers 32 this morning, and God broke my heart. As I read, I learned of the tribes of Reuben and Gad who petitioned to settle east of the Jordan—before any of the other tribes had settled. And they promised to help the rest of their countrymen conquer the land before the made themselves homes and cities and farms. Moses warns them—he warns them that they certainly must do this thing. “But if you do not do so, then take note, you have sinned against the Lord; and be sure your sin will find you out (Numbers 32:23).” And suddenly, I began to weep, as I realized—I realized that my clean conscience is of naught in this case. I realized that my attempts to be at peace with all people, and to love all people is of naught. My desire to tell the truth, and keep the Sabbath, and honor my God, and stay content, and avoid murder, and hate, and lust, and adultery—all these things, and I have still sinned. It is not what I have done—and it is not what Reuben and Gad did—that is the sin. It is what I have not done. Reuben and Gad’s sin would be found out if they committed the sin of omission, and neglected to help their countrymen. My sin has caught up with me now, I see. I am weeping uncontrollably as I write this—I can hardly see to form the letters. My sin has found me out. As I sat on my hands and prided myself on my righteousness, I committed a great sin. And, oh, if only I could go back and do things differently, I would.

“For whoever desires to save his life will lose it, and whoever loses his life for My sake will find it. For what is a man profited if he gains the whole world, and loses his own soul? Or what will a man give in exchange for his soul (Matthew 16:25-26)?”

End Notes

This is a work of fiction, written from the perspective of a person living in Germany at the time of World War II. Although there were many who caught on to Hitler’s evildoings and resisted, thus giving us hundreds of inspiring stories of heroism and courage, there were thousands who honestly had no comprehension of the events occurring under their noses. Some of these people, to be sure, should be blamed for closing their eyes and living in purposeful ignorance, but please do not assume that all were this way. Hitler was a master at propaganda and lies, and the truth was nearly impossible to obtain for German citizens. I hope, however, that you will take the lessons this person learned to heart. Today offers you one such turning point—to become active in our beloved, but sinking country, or to sit on your hands and sin by omission. Today, the Senate will vote on a "National Defense Authorization Bill," which, though seemingly inocuous, hides several desperate attempts to pass ungodly, unamerican, and unconstitutional laws in our nation. Three amendments promise to repeal the "Don't Ask, Don't Tell" policy in the military--despite the fact that there is an ongoing study focusing on the consequences of keeping or repealing this policy. Additionally, the "Dream Act" will provide a path to citizenship for millions of illegal immigrants. Finally, the last amendment would allow abortions on any military base in the world with our tax dollars--something that has been prohibited for over 40 years.

For a conservative, detailed perspective visit here.

For news on the Don't Ask, Don't Tell amendment, visit here.

For reporting on the Dream Act visit here.

And after educating yourself on this issue--hurry!--and call your senators today (the Capitol switchboard is 1-202-224-3121) and urge them to support the filibuster of the bill, oppose cloture (going to a vote without anymore discussion), and--of course--to oppose the bill! Please don't comment to debate the issues of this bill--call your senators regarding your views, and comment on the bulk of this post--good men doing nothing. Thanks!

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"Scripture taken from the New King James Version. Copyright © 1982 by Thomas Nelson, Inc. Used by permission. All rights reserved."

Six Little Light Bulbs for a Rainy Day

1. At the age of five, my now eight year old brother Jonah dictated the following from Lancaster County, PA: "Crystal was fun to play with. Crystal was a dog.  Crystal was sometimes mean to me.  Crystal was brown and black and white.  But you couldn't pull the hair off her.  She would go "bark, bark, bark."  Crystal was gonna have babies.  She was pregadant.  I thought she was a he, and then someone told me she was going to have babies, and I was like, "He's don't have babies!"  Crystal was an Amish dog." 

2. Bible class this semester assigns one or more New Testament books to read, note certain aspects of God in, outline, summarize, and research every week. Also, I will be reading through John and Hebrews three or four times with a magnifying glass. But here’s the point, sharpened upon the blade of Acts: have you ever been reading a passage of Scripture, and suddenly a sentence leaps out at you as something your own heart has been crying lately, something your own mind has been questioning, or your own hands doing? Are you ever silenced by amazement as you wonder,“Is it possible that I am reading exactly what my very heart has wondered? How can Peter, or Paul, or Luke be saying exactly what I am feeling?” Because God wrote that sentence for me and for you, I can only sit in awe at the beautifully literary, stunningly applicable, and everlastingly truthful words of Scripture. Here is just one of many such verses that echoed my heart this week: “Repent therefore and be converted, that your sins may be blotted out, so that times of refreshing may come from the presence of the Lord.” (Acts 3:19) Who hasn’t longed for times of refreshing from the presence of the Lord?

3. A few favorite quotes: “Never in the history of fashion has so little material been raised so high to reveal so much that needs to be covered so badly.” -Sir Cecil Beaton on mini-skirts                                                
“If evolution really works, how come mothers only have two hands?” –Milton Berle                                     
“Even if I knew that tomorrow the world would go to pieces, I would still plant my apple tree.” - Dr. Martin Luther King Jr.

4. In the sad, dark B.V.M (Before VitaMix) days, we would fill our blender with delectable frozen fruits and ice, fit on the lid, turn it on, and…noise enough to bring a lawsuit from our neighbors, but ice chunks with fruit sauce was our only reward. And if we dared take it further…is the blender supposed to smoke like that? Yeah. Nice. Now, I’m sipping my delightfully smooth smoothie, enjoying lots of summer’s end fruit in drinkable form! Thank you Craigslist! Along those same lines, the girls of our household are working through Sue Gregg’s whole foods cookbooks with some friends via Google chat, and I am so enjoying the delicious healthy foods! I actually love whole wheat, brown rice, and the like (although I’m ever a devoted white flour piecrust fan), and learning about how good it is for your body makes it all that much more enjoyable!  It's also been amazing to study what the Bible has to say about food--who knew it talked about lentils, and millet, and spelt? 

5. Please stand by for a Public Service Announcement: Elections are less than two months away, and if you are an American citizen, over 18, and are sure you’re not a convicted felon (um…) but you are not registered to vote, you are not allowed to read One Bright Corner. Just kidding. Or not so much, because you need to stop midsentence and go here to register.  Now--shoo! 

6. I’ve recently discovered Katherine Jenkins, the most amazing classical singer. Check out this delightful song by her:

As always, use discretion, for not all of her songs are good, and watch out for the modesty issue, but I have found several that I am quite enjoying! 

With that, I'll close my eccentricly haphazard list of light bulbish things, leaving you to cuddle up in your scarves and slippers this dreary weekend that is hopefully now just a bit brighter. 

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