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"So, meat hipsters, drop that smug sanctimony. Sometime soon, bacon-spiked dessert will look just as outmoded as lentil loaf and baby-doll dresses — and vegetarianism will still be a good choice for my health, society at large, and our global environment."
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Tuesday, January 31, 2012
Thursday, January 26, 2012
Thoughts on my father and my son...
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That's my father in the top middle (and that handsome little guy on the bottom left was me)
Today (Jan 25) is my father's birthday. He passed away several years ago, but he would have been 69 years old today if he was still around. I can't imagine my father being that old. Most of my memories of him are when we my family was still intact - I was young, he was big and strong. I have many memories of him working out in the yard. He built fences, made gardens, constructed a giant swing set, worked on the cars or on the house. In my memories he was big, strong, and usually very tanned (I have no memories of him with his shirt on in the summer time). No, I can't imagine what a 69 year old Elliott would look like.
As I sit here late at night with Isaac sleeping against my chest (he is fussy and seems at times to only sleep if strapped to my chest) I can only imagine how proud my father would be to meet his grandson. I know that my father would be proud to see where I am and who I am. But it brings tears to my eyes to think about my father holding my son. I trust that one day they will meet many years from now when they are both in the arms of our Lord - yeah, that's a bit comforting. Still...
My father was thirty-five when he had me. It struck me today that he was only a two years older when he had me than I am now with my newborn son. If the pattern holds, I'll be in my late sixties before I might be a grandfather and hold a little grandchild. I pray that God will grant me such a blessing.
My father will not hold little Isaac Elliott. But I will take great joy in ensuring that Isaac grows up knowing where his middle name came from.
Father - I pray that you are resting in peace. I look forward to seeing you again one day.
Gloria Deo
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John Elliott Curll
1943 - 1994
Today (Jan 25) is my father's birthday. He passed away several years ago, but he would have been 69 years old today if he was still around. I can't imagine my father being that old. Most of my memories of him are when we my family was still intact - I was young, he was big and strong. I have many memories of him working out in the yard. He built fences, made gardens, constructed a giant swing set, worked on the cars or on the house. In my memories he was big, strong, and usually very tanned (I have no memories of him with his shirt on in the summer time). No, I can't imagine what a 69 year old Elliott would look like.
My son, Isaac Elliott Curll, is named after him.
As I sit here late at night with Isaac sleeping against my chest (he is fussy and seems at times to only sleep if strapped to my chest) I can only imagine how proud my father would be to meet his grandson. I know that my father would be proud to see where I am and who I am. But it brings tears to my eyes to think about my father holding my son. I trust that one day they will meet many years from now when they are both in the arms of our Lord - yeah, that's a bit comforting. Still...
My father was thirty-five when he had me. It struck me today that he was only a two years older when he had me than I am now with my newborn son. If the pattern holds, I'll be in my late sixties before I might be a grandfather and hold a little grandchild. I pray that God will grant me such a blessing.
My father will not hold little Isaac Elliott. But I will take great joy in ensuring that Isaac grows up knowing where his middle name came from.
Father - I pray that you are resting in peace. I look forward to seeing you again one day.
Gloria Deo
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Monday, January 16, 2012
Thoughts on That Which is Important: Night time readings with Isaac...
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Last night I was spending some time with my newborn son (my little fussy froggy). My dear wife had just fed him and was getting a few hours of much-needed sleep while I held him so he could also sleep. The lights were low and I was tired. Not too tired to function by any means, but rather too tired to do school reading. I read the news; I paced around; eventually I decided (after staring at my library for quite some time) to do some light pleasure reading. My eyes fell on a book I've been meaning to get into for a while now, The Essential Pope Benedict XVI: His Central Writings and Speeches. Probably not what most of my friends and family would choose to read after the sun has set but I thought to myself, there's no better time than now. So with my little fussy froggy asleep against my chest, I picked it up. Here's what I found:
My little fussy froggy is even now making little froggy sounds as he sleeps against my chest. I do indeed pray that I, by the grace of God, might bear such fruit that he will receive the faith, that he will experience the divine love which this faith brings.
Deo gratias
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Last night I was spending some time with my newborn son (my little fussy froggy). My dear wife had just fed him and was getting a few hours of much-needed sleep while I held him so he could also sleep. The lights were low and I was tired. Not too tired to function by any means, but rather too tired to do school reading. I read the news; I paced around; eventually I decided (after staring at my library for quite some time) to do some light pleasure reading. My eyes fell on a book I've been meaning to get into for a while now, The Essential Pope Benedict XVI: His Central Writings and Speeches. Probably not what most of my friends and family would choose to read after the sun has set but I thought to myself, there's no better time than now. So with my little fussy froggy asleep against my chest, I picked it up. Here's what I found:
"I who chose you and appointed you to go and bear fruit that will remain."John 15:16
"We have received the faith to give it to others. We are priests meant to serve others. And we must bring a fruit that will remain. All people want to leave a mark which lasts. But what remains? Money does not. Buildings do not, nor books. After a certain amount of time, whether long or short, all these things disappear. The only thing which remains forever is the human soul, the human person created by God for eternity. The fruit which remains then is that which we have sowed in human souls: love, knowledge, a gesture capable of touching the heart, words which open the soul to joy in the Lord. let us then go to the Lord and pray to Him, so that He may help us bear fruit which remains."I was struck by how profound this little admonition is. It is so simple and true. With the arrival of my son, these words could not ring more true to my ears. What can I do which will remain? I can share love and knowledge of the Divine with Isaac. I can work to sow seeds in his soul which will grow and blossom into glorious fruit. I can live a life which models the great faith which I have received. I can pray that our gracious God will so transform our life that we daily give the give of love to all we meet.
My little fussy froggy is even now making little froggy sounds as he sleeps against my chest. I do indeed pray that I, by the grace of God, might bear such fruit that he will receive the faith, that he will experience the divine love which this faith brings.
Deo gratias
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Tuesday, January 10, 2012
Thoughts on Purpose and Clarity...
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Living life is a continuous act of great faith. I've heard our lives described as small islands of certainty amidst an endless ocean of uncertainty; I think this an appropriate description of human existence. I know the Evangelical Christians like to talk in terms of "the will of God" as if this is something that will always be evident through prayer, but my experience tends more towards letting the transformative love of God guide my reason and judgment in decision making. It seems to me that the will of God, the narrative that explains events in our lives, is often only understood in retrospect - years later looking back and interpreting with the knowledge and growth gained through such experiences. Rather than understanding as walking with certainty, more often than not we take brave and trembling steps of faith, trusting in God's grace and sovereign guidance, making our choices and doing our best. Indeed, there are very few things we can be certain of in this life.
There are moments, though, moments of clarity, moments of certainty. I remember a moment ten years ago (31 Dec 2001) in Rottenman, Austria. It was Silvester (New Year's Eve) and we were watching the fireworks exploding in the sky over the little Austrian town. Looking out into the colourful night sky, I knew that I was on the right path. My life had changed drastically over the prior six or so months following a religious conversion experience. There was no doubt in my mind that I was made to follow Jesus and live the life to which He was calling me. This life of love which he now demanded of me was what I had been created for.
I remember another such moment of clarity. Almost three and a half years ago, standing at the altar with my new bride, exchanging vows of love fidelity, I had no doubts as to my (our) direction. Looking into her beautiful eyes I knew I was made for this. I was created by love for love. This wife whom God had given to me was given for my sanctification, a gift of divine love and grace, provided that I might grow into who I was intended to be. Indeed, when I looked into her loving eyes that day, I had an unwavering clarity of purpose.
Just over 56 hours ago, I found myself experiencing this same clarity of purpose. When I looked into my newborn sons eyes, when I picked little Isaac up and held him in my arms... there were no doubts or questions, there was only this sense of clarity. I knew in the very core of my being that I was created for this. This precious little gift, this child has been entrusted into our care. I am his father; he is my son. I was created to love him. And thus I shall do.
Indeed, there is very little that I can be certain of in this life. There will be questions and doubts; there will be struggles. I don't know what the future will hold. In this vast sea of uncertainty, I shall let these few certainties be my guide. I know why I am here. I am here to love, and this I shall do.
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Living life is a continuous act of great faith. I've heard our lives described as small islands of certainty amidst an endless ocean of uncertainty; I think this an appropriate description of human existence. I know the Evangelical Christians like to talk in terms of "the will of God" as if this is something that will always be evident through prayer, but my experience tends more towards letting the transformative love of God guide my reason and judgment in decision making. It seems to me that the will of God, the narrative that explains events in our lives, is often only understood in retrospect - years later looking back and interpreting with the knowledge and growth gained through such experiences. Rather than understanding as walking with certainty, more often than not we take brave and trembling steps of faith, trusting in God's grace and sovereign guidance, making our choices and doing our best. Indeed, there are very few things we can be certain of in this life.
There are moments, though, moments of clarity, moments of certainty. I remember a moment ten years ago (31 Dec 2001) in Rottenman, Austria. It was Silvester (New Year's Eve) and we were watching the fireworks exploding in the sky over the little Austrian town. Looking out into the colourful night sky, I knew that I was on the right path. My life had changed drastically over the prior six or so months following a religious conversion experience. There was no doubt in my mind that I was made to follow Jesus and live the life to which He was calling me. This life of love which he now demanded of me was what I had been created for.
I remember another such moment of clarity. Almost three and a half years ago, standing at the altar with my new bride, exchanging vows of love fidelity, I had no doubts as to my (our) direction. Looking into her beautiful eyes I knew I was made for this. I was created by love for love. This wife whom God had given to me was given for my sanctification, a gift of divine love and grace, provided that I might grow into who I was intended to be. Indeed, when I looked into her loving eyes that day, I had an unwavering clarity of purpose.
Just over 56 hours ago, I found myself experiencing this same clarity of purpose. When I looked into my newborn sons eyes, when I picked little Isaac up and held him in my arms... there were no doubts or questions, there was only this sense of clarity. I knew in the very core of my being that I was created for this. This precious little gift, this child has been entrusted into our care. I am his father; he is my son. I was created to love him. And thus I shall do.
Indeed, there is very little that I can be certain of in this life. There will be questions and doubts; there will be struggles. I don't know what the future will hold. In this vast sea of uncertainty, I shall let these few certainties be my guide. I know why I am here. I am here to love, and this I shall do.
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