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Can someone please write a brilliant novel about a
group of women that ends with them living full and
interesting and friend-filled lives, contentedly single? It’d be kinda like Sex and the City but with more depth; they’d talk obsessively about social justice and theology rather than fashion and boys. Celibacy in the City? I’d like to write it but I won’t, partly because I’ve
read enough brilliant novels by now to know that I’m not capable of reaching anywhere
near those literary heights myself, but mostly because I’m married, which I
fear would take something away from the message of the book. I’ve been thinking
about this idea for a while now, but reading this article earlier today revived it.
While we’re (not actually) on the subject of marriage, I
really liked this post (language warning); after comparing my relationship with my husband to
my ecstatic newlywed friend’s last night, it was nice to read and relate to someone else’s description of how love evolves over the post-honeymoon years.
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I got an HD for my Jeremiah essay! I’m just slipping this news in the middle here so it doesn’t sound too desperately affirmation-needy,
but I’m so excited I decided to share it on my blog rather than climbing onto
the roof to shout it to the neighbourhood. I really didn’t believe that my blood,
sweat and tears had earned me much more than a few whiney blog posts and a pass, so I was crazily happy to receive my result yesterday.
*smiles crazy-happily*
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Every now and then I scan
the tops of my CD case stacks (where my favourite albums live) and find
absolutely nothing I feel like listening to, which launches me on an
Ecclesiastes-style sigh-fest about how all my music has been heard before and
there’s nothing new under the sun. This usually lasts until I direct my eyes to
the middle and bottom of the stacks, where I find all kinds of gems I’ve
managed to forget about over the years: Gorillaz! Pearl Jam! George! My embarrassing
collection of So Fresh albums!
It’s the latter that
recently made me ponder, because I hadn’t listened to them for at least seven years, and yet I can
still sing along to (too) many of the songs without thinking twice about the
lyrics. As I’m currently in the midst of exam preparation, it worries me to think of how much
information I’ve discarded over the years in order to hold on to the words of songs
from 2001, some of which I never even liked.
How come I can’t remember anything I read about the theological themes of Isaiah
last week, but can sing along and trumpet like a pro throughout She Bangs by Ricky Martin? This has led
me to realise two things: 1) my brain has some seriously messed-up priorities,
and 2) I should probably write my study notes to fit the tune of Britney's Oops! I Did it Again.
Music makes everything easier to remember. My friend set Isaiah 40:28-31 to music for me to sing at another friend's commissioning as a lay minister and I can still remember the words! Maybe someone should just arrange the whole Bible to a tune :)
ReplyDeleteHahaha, that would be a veeeeeeeeeeeeery long tune! I reckon it could be done for a single book, though... A holiday project for you, Lou: a novel about happy single women AND a catchy Philippians song!
DeleteI learned the books of the Bible because of a song - I still have to sing parts of it to remember where to find some of them (the tiny minor prophets, especially).
I remember learning a 'books of the Bible' song as a kid too...but I can't remember past Kings. I think we've just found a flaw in the whole mnemonic song thing...
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