Fun In My World — Ancient and Modern

Tuesday Ginny returned to work downtown where one of her coworkers was mugged in the office parking lot and her purse snatched.

I spent the day in quite, peaceful reading, reflection, prayer and meditation — except for two troubled visitors, two delivery men, and a phone call warning me the cops are searching for one of my daughters.

Just a typical day at home for me.

My studies alternated between two books.

On one hand I’m reading a diary kept by Puritan Richard Rogers between 1586 and 1590; on the other hand, I’m studying a 445-page computer manual on how to work Google.

I don’t understand either one.

In the Google manual, I’m up to the part about using asterisks as wildcard search terms.

In the Roger’s Journal, I’ve reached the 1587 attack of the Spanish Armada, which, in terms of newsworthiness, was the 16^th Century equivalent of Nine Eleven in our day.

But the Puritan preacher was a focused man. His diary concentrates on things that really matter, the state of the human soul in the light of eternity.

“By fearfull noise of warre and trouble in our lande I laboured to bringe myne heart to a more neere drawing of it to the deeper contempt of the worlde,” Rogers said.

And that’s all he had to say about the Aramada!

His diary makes for difficult reading not only because of the antique spelling. His language is neither the lofty Elizabethan cadences of Shakespeare nor the majestic prose of the King James Bible, but he speaks in the common idiom of his day.

Not only that, but his thought patterns are so foreign to my way of thinking because here was a man intent on God to the exclusion of lesser things.

I am not such a man.

I envy his devotion.

“It is the work and occupation of a Christian,” Rogers said, “To learn to understande the lawes of god and to walk in his wayes, and thus that should be the chieftest thinge which should be looked after and from thing to thinge practized”.

If you think his language is difficult to follow, you should try that Google manual! Gobbledygook and techno-jargon fills the pages.

For instance, Page Rank refers to which web site you see listed first, second, third, etc. when you search the web with Google; but the term PageRank has nothing to do with the web pages per se, it refers to a system of determining value developed by Mr. Larry Page, one of Google’s founders, and his system factors in over 500 elements in order to put my website down around number 8,427 in the listings.

I’m tempted to scan in the Rogers Diary and publish it on the web or as a booklet on my storefront (www.bluefishbooks.info ). The copyright is open and I think the rare work of this good and godly man ought to be preserved.

But the project would take a massive amount of work and would not make much business sense. I checked the library stamps in the back of the InterLibrary Loan copy I am reading and I see that this book was checked out on April 1, 1985 and returned the very next day; then it was checked out again on May 11^th, 1994. I am the third person to check the thing out.

Ever.

If you want to read a copy, the line forms on the right.

No shoving, please.

I am reading the book for my own edification, to let this focused man’s thoughts from long ago nudge me closer to Christ in my own life today.

If his diary can help me in that way, perhaps, in spite of the book's wild popularity, I should try to preserve his words on line to help some other struggling Christian in the future.

I hope my own diary entries may help somebody in that way.

Back in an October blog last year, I wrote:

You know, I’ve always written with a specific reader in mind. The reader I envision is a teen-aged boy who lives 50 to 75 years from now, and who stumbles across my journals in a dusty attic on a rainy day and begins to read these old musty papers.

Some stupid joke catches the kid’s attention and he begins to read further. As he reads, he catches some glimpse of what it means for me to be a Christian. He sees a relatively unvarnished picture of one Christian guy’s life, a life soaked in problems, temptations, discouragements, failures, and defeats — yet resounds with hope.

I dream that the kid in the attic will look at all the crap in what’s-iz-name’s diary and that this kid will see through it all and see that what I write about is real. I dream that he will see through me to the beauty of the living Christ and commit his life to Christ 100%, without reservation.

Hey, Kid! Here’s a bumper sticker joke for you:

I Did Not Escape From The Insane Asylum — I’ve Got A Day Pass!

Deliverymen brought our new mattress yesterday.

Ginny and I got quite a laugh as we got ready for bed. Our old mattress, which we bought sometime back in the mid 1980s, sagged a good six or eight inches lower than this brand new one does.

So, when I sat down on the edge of the bed to take off my socks, I find I can no longer reach my feet!

What a surprise!

Ginny howled with laughter at my antics as I struggled to remove my socks.

I’m not fat at all.

But I am married to this cruel, cruel woman.

… Oh, the cop call thing, if any of my three daughters happens to read this blog, you might consider paying your speeding tickets.

Mom and Dad love you -- but we don’t do bail.