Put Fresh Straw in my Stall

Some readers seem to be getting the idea that I am promoting the King James Bible as the ultimate translation. I made it very clear that this is not the case, but a blogger is very lucky if ten percent of his readers read anything beyond the first two sentences of each post. I should bury a bag of cash in a public park and put the location at the bottom of a long blog entry. I’ll bet the cash would still be there a year later.

I don’t speak Hebrew, Greek, or Aramaic. I am not a Bible scholar. I have to rely on other people’s judgment regarding translations. I don’t know which one is best.

It’s too bad I didn’t learn these languages when I was young. I was born with a freakish aptitude for foreign language. When I was in high school, I won a statewide French competition. A guy I thought was my friend copied my answers and came in second. The next year, I came in third. I never had the heart to tell my French teacher I didn’t do any homework. Now I’m old and my memory is shot. I might take a crack at Hebrew anyway.

I tried learning Spanish a few years back, and I picked it up in a hurry, but I forgot things just as quickly, so I quit. I don’t know if this was due to age, or if it was related to my sleep problems. I have improved my sleep a lot in the last few months. It looks like dust is the main problem. I found a spray that somehow keeps it out of the air. Clorox makes it. It makes life a lot easier. I was surprised. And I also use 12-hour nasal spray when I have to. I am in the process of getting all the dust out of my bedroom, so I don’t have to rely on weird products. It would be wonderful to have a memory again. This time, I would do something useful with it.

Most people lose the ability to learn languages easily at an early age. I did not. When I went to Israel at the age of 22, I took a bus across Greece, and by the time I made it from Patras to Athens, I was able to read most of the signs, Greek lettering and all. So I have some hope that my abilities will return if I can put a permanent end to my sleep problems. Other people like me have managed to learn languages in old age, so I don’t think I can say I’m washed up.

It amazes me that my parents did so little to develop my potential when I was a kid. They just didn’t know how to raise children. For example, I took my first music lesson at the age of 15, on my own initiative. If I hadn’t piped up without prompting, I would never have learned to play an instrument. I was good at a lot of things, but I had no guidance. I dribbled through life like a ball making its way down the surface of a pinball machine.

How can anyone raise kids with no musical training? It boggles the mind. Music is one of the fundamental pillars of a well-rounded personality. If you don’t take charge of your kids’ education, you might as well keep them in pens and throw slop over the fence once a day. Take the Kaspar Hauser approach.

I don’t blame my parents. My family was cursed, and that’s all there is to it. Without God in our corner, we had no hope of succeeding at anything. When I became an adult, I didn’t do much to fix the damage, so I can’t claim I’m any better than they were.

There is a reason Eastern Kentucky is what it is. Old refrigerators don’t just jump off people’s porches and fall into their yards. Old cars don’t drive themselves into creeks. Barns and fences don’t fall over when they’re maintained. Kids don’t grow up ignorant if their parents are responsible. Appalachia is to bad habits and unproductive values as Holland is to tulips. God fixes things like that, but you have to make yourself available. My family brought its Eastern Kentucky values and beliefs to Florida, just as slaves brought their African values and beliefs to Haiti. We had no right to expect things to go well.

I keep working on my silly trees and plants. In the past, I assumed stuff just grew in yards, without much help. Now I realize you have to be on guard every day and keep working to provide food and drive away pests and disease. Are kids any different? Surely not.

Thank God I have come to realize all this. Thank God my sister realizes it, too. Not everyone has to perish for lack of knowledge.

Today we are going to Rich Wilkerson’s church, up in Miami Gardens. It will be interesting to see what it’s like. I feel like my family is walking out of a dark tunnel and into the light. Sooner or later, I’ll find the right church. And as I continue in faith, I hope to find more peace and satifaction in life, as well as more meaning. I would like to accomplish some good before I leave this world. I am especially interested in turning enemies into allies. Fighting is tiresome, destructive, and wasteful.

I am still worried about the Nigerian “child witch” scandal, which threatens to bring the church to its knees. There are tiny children in Nigeria, walking along the sides of roads, eating grass and leaves to stay alive. And churches started by American missionaries helped put them there. My sister was thinking Rich Wilkerson might know someone with connections, who could do something. Anyway, I haven’t forgotten about it. I hope other people who read about it will look for ways to take action.

I hope people are checking in on Mish Weiss once in a while and offering prayers. Her immune system is gradually rebuilding, after the marrow transplant. On Friday, she had a fever of 105 (Fahrenheit, one assumes), but she is down to around 100 now. Here is her latest post.

It’s a beautiful Sunday. It’s dry and sunny, and the temperature is below 70. Good church weather.

Of course, any weather is good church weather. I hope you, too, will make your way to church before the day is over.