Growing Pains

"Aslan," said Lucy, "you're bigger."
"That is because you are older, little one," answered he.
"Not because you are?"
"I am not. But every year you grow, you will find me bigger."

--from Prince Caspian by C.S. Lewis

I was thinking about this a lot last night at Bible study. We were studying the relationship between sin and grace. We started with a diagram that looked something like this:

On one hand, I have my awareness of God's holiness. On the other, I have my knowledge of my own sin. (These both tend to increase with time.) When one first becomes a Christian, the Cross tends to just barely bridge the gap. How could our understanding of God's grace exceed our knowledge of the gap between? For Christians like me, who converted at a very young age, the cross tends to start out very small. Unfortunately, sometimes it stays that way.

As time passes, the cross can seem to diminish in size. Sin not only fails to disappear after conversion - it growls and snarls and grows more rapidly than a hydra. God is not only as inaccessibly perfect as we had known at first - he is more so. And yet the cross too often fails to bridge the gap. So what do we do?

We fill the gaps artificially. We try to do good deeds - or have regular Bible studies - or pray - or something - to cover that extra gap between the top of the cross and God's holiness. We become increasingly dishonest - either with ourselves ("I'm not that bad") or with others. Oh, how very good I am at that last. I don't and wouldn't lie, of course. I just sit there uncomfortably silent when people ask for prayer requests when I desperately want prayer for x embarrassing spiritual problem in my life. (Note that I can't bring myself to specify a specific example even as I discuss the problem.) I just quietly despair as I compare my own lack of faith with my neighbors' faith. I can grow resentful of others' success and peace of mind; I can become peevishly convinced that everyone is a bunch of similar hypocrites anyway (or something like the world through the devil's mirror). It gets ugly.

You might notice how I flit around between "I do this", "one does this", and "we do this" in this post. It's because I'm still working through which applies where. Hey, let my confusion be reflected in stylistic confusion. One thing I wonder - is the fact that my first thought is of Aslan a sign that "Aslan" hasn't grown big enough for me? Have I failed to get to know him sufficiently in my own world? How can I get to where the cross is sized appropriately?

One thing's for sure: John 3:30. "He must increase, but I must decrease."

I'm a teacher! I teach! - The First Hurdle

Today was a very important day. Today, for the first time, I faced down a class of high school students and taught them a lesson. I am officially a teacher!

(That is, until I'm flushed with triumph about teaching with my first official lesson plan in my methods course next semester. Or until I'm student teaching next spring. Or until I get my license. Or until I have my own classroom. Or until I've finished my first year. Or until that magic day when the class REALLY gets it. I reserve the right to name any and all future days The Official Start Of My Teacherness.)

How did I manage? Heroically, considering my deep dislike of presentations. I took presenting an old Scottish ballad to a bunch of apathetic, academically indifferent teenagers, looked it squarely in the eye, and... got myself good and drunk first, my old coping mechanism for nerve-wracking assignments.

Those who do not know me will have entirely the wrong impression now; those who do will be utterly confused. I do not use alcohol or any other foreign chemicals to get plastered. I simply distract myself working or surfing the Net or reading till the not-so-wee hours of the morning, and fatigue poisons do the rest. I used to think it was just procrastination; now I wonder if it's a half-deliberate attempt to hit an altered state of consciousness where I no longer feel nervous or frustrated, only euphoric or depressed.

Anyway, I chose my poem well. I managed to get the kids discussing the nature of fairies, and I managed to stop them at the point when they were looking at me funny by explaining that I wanted to discuss the magical kind. And they stuck with that! The first two verses, I let 'em struggle with the original poem. Then I asked them what they thought it meant, when the last stanza warns "'And nae maid comes to Carterhaugh /And a maid returns again.'" They seemed to agree with the girl who decided it must mean no maid ever comes back alive. All attention was riveted on me when I explained that the second time, "maid" was being used in the sense of "virgin". :-D It's sad how predictably it works, actually - load on the sex, and the kids are completely involved. After that point I gave them my quick translation so they could follow without getting utterly lost.

I lost their attention during the lengthy passage on how to free Tam - in retrospect, I should have emphasized more the odd situation of the man being the damsel in distress. Overall, I felt like I did an adequate job, but I could have done better. I also felt like I was getting off easy. This class was taught by an extremely experienced, competent, and deft teacher whose students were polite and well-behaved for this stranger while their teacher was watching. The teacher had also gotten their sympathy for me by comparing my student teaching to their senior exit presentations. The teacher also covered what would have been a woeful lack if I had been going solo - I completely neglected to review, highlight important points, take questions, etc. The teacher covered for me so naturally that I doubt the students noticed. I'm just glad it wasn't a formal lesson assignment. The review is the part where you actually hammer the lesson home; otherwise, odds are it'll be forgotten by nightfall. The teacher also improvised an excellent assignment: allow the students to write their own ballad. I would have spent more time collectively plotting before splitting the students into groups to work on different sections, but then, I would have planned this in advance or I wouldn't have been able to think of it at all. The teacher was improvising brilliantly with the time I left over.

I'm not being too hard on myself; I did well for what it was, and it's okay that I still have things to learn to pay attention to. (Dangling prepositions will be permitted in my class, thank you very much.) Still, it did get me thinking. I did a fraction of what a teacher needs to do, and I got the following review from a teacher who knows enough to know the lack:

"Ms. [gosh, it's weird to be called by my last name] taught a lesson on ballads (emphasis on "Tam Lin") on April 18. She had a class of 17 English IV Standard students in the palm of her hand. When she completed her lesson, the class decided she should be their teacher until the end of the year. :)"

Is it blasphemous that I spent the latter half of the period thinking about how God covers for us? We're allowed to stand or fall for the part we're ready to play, but for the rest, He covers so deftly that we look like we did something we can't. Here, a teacher made it look like I can teach a class. (Actually, God was probably involved too. Three hours of sleep following a sleep-deprived week, then no caffeine... but then, adrenaline does something too.) Another time, I might hold my temper with that complete and utter idiot, or I might offer good emotional support, or some sudden insight... but the minute I think I'm really doing well, that it's my contribution that's making the most difference, I'm kidding myself.

Still lots to learn and grow into!

Handy trick

My roommates and several other people I know memorize Scripture by writing verses on cards or slips of paper and sticking them where they will be frequently seen.

I have begun to set the appropriate passage as my browser's home page.

Because gosh darn it, as often as I want to quote I Corinthians 1:18-29, I ought to memorize it.

Blessed are the poor in spirit

Two-by-four, head; head, two-by-four. So nice to see you two getting reacquainted. Mind you keep the plank away from the eye.

This week has been an interesting one, insofar as Bible stuff goes. Wednesday I went to a study which was going over Luke 7, the week after it went over Luke 6. The sermon this morning was on Luke 4, with Jesus reading from Isaiah at Nazareth. See if you can find some subtle similarity among these various verses emphasized from those passages:

"Blessed are you who are poor, for yours is the kingdom of God. [...] But woe to you who are rich, for you have already received your comfort." Luke 6:20, 24

"Go back and report to John what you have seen and heard: The blind receive sight, the lame walk, those who have leprosy are cured, the deaf hear, the dead are raised, and the good news is preached to the poor." Luke 7:22

"Two men owed money to a certain moneylender. One owed him five hundred denarii, and the other fifty. Neither of them had the money to pay him back, so he canceled the debts of both. Now which of them will live him more?[...] I tell you, her many sins have been forgiven - for she loved much. But he who has been forgiven little loves little." Luke 7:41-42, 47

"The Spirit of the Lord is on me, because he has anointed me to preach good news to the poor. He has sent me to proclaim freedom for the prisoners and recovery of sight for the blind, to release the oppressed, to proclaim the year of the Lord's favor." Luke 4:18-19

These are most of the verses that got any emphasis from the various lessons. All lessons pointed out that in these passages, financial poverty is not the issue; spiritual poverty is. All lessons pointed out as well that when we do not recognize ourselves as being the poor, we're deceiving ourselves and deceiving ourselves out of the gift of grace into the bargain.

I always have to wonder how God defines this recognition. I'm a pretty bright girl; I can look at my life and figure out objectively that I don't measure up to God's standard. Do I feel impoverished? No. There are a couple verses that I always feel are tailor-made for me:

Come, all you who are thirsty,
come to the waters;
and you who have no money,
come, buy and eat!
Come, buy wine and milk
without money and without cost.
Why spend money on what is not bread,
and your labor on what does not satisfy?
Listen, listen to me, and eat what is good,
and your soul will delight in the richest of fare.
-Isaiah 55:1-2

You say, "I am rich; I have acquired wealth and do not need a thing." But you do not realize that you are wretched, pitiful, poor, blind and naked. I counsel you to buy from me gold refined in the fire, so you can become rich; and white clothes to wear, so you can cover your shameful nakedness; and salve to put on your eyes, so you can see.
-Revelation 3:17-18

I'm pretty good about rejoicing in my blessings, but also pretty good at ignoring anything that makes me uncomfortable. This includes my own shortcomings. I know they're there, but I'm enjoying my material, mental and emotional riches even when I'm aware that my spiritual debts have reached an all-time high.

So, here's a puzzler: how does a girl learn to become greedy for spiritual riches while still enjoying contentment in other areas? Better figure out the right answer soon, because I think God may be trying to send me a subtle little message with these lessons.

Inside out and upside down

"Thou art my beloved Son; in thee I am well pleased." - Luke 3:21 KJV

"The LORD hath said unto me, Thou art my Son; this day have I begotten thee." -Psalm 2:7

"Behold my servant, whom I uphold; mine elect, in whom my soul delighteth..." - Isaiah 42:1

My study NIV has failed to mention the connection between the first verse and the second two. This is what sermons are good for, pointing out connections.

We spend a lot of time these days worrying about self-esteem, self-respect, etc, and with good reason. There seems to be an inherent poverty in the human soul, a persistent belief in our own meanness, our insignificance in the universe. How many people really believe, in their heart of hearts, that they deserve any good thing? If I were REALLY known, we think, it would be impossible for anyone to love me.

Of course, most of us know this isn't our biggest problem. Our biggest problem is that we tend to think too well of ourselves. Maybe because we feel insignificant, we feel a need to impress others (and ourselves) with our strength, our wisdom, our intelligence, our power. Low self-esteem? That's the last thing I need to worry about. My besetting sin is pride, didn't you know that? That's WHY I'm so unlovable. I'm one of those bloody Pharisees, completely on top of the world, nowhere to go but down.

The two messages seem conflicting, but they obviously work well in tandem: I'm worthless, so I'd better go increase/show off my worth, but the fact that I'm doing that shows how worthless I am, etc. There's a phrase oft repeated in my church which applies here: "It's a lie from the pit of Hell, and it smells like smoke."

The thing is, God has told each of us that we are His beloved children. If we are Christians ("little Christs"), then the words of Psalm 2 and Luke 3 apply to us as well. "Your are my son; today I have become your Father. Ask of me, and I will make the nations your inheritance, the ends of the earth your possession," he invites us. I know, it's hard to believe in good news without strings attached - especially for those long in the Church, which seems to fear that preaching grace to the saved will result in orgiastic sin and chaos. You and I are God's creation, His pearl of great price, His beloved bride, His sons and heirs. This, not poverty, is our natural state, the inheritence which is ours since creation began.

But if we are Christians ("little Christs"), then the words of Isaiah and Luke 3 apply to us as well. "Here is my servant, whom I uphold, my chosen one in whom I delight." We are called to be servants, to be willing to demean ourselves before others, not despite our inheritance but because of it. We should have an outlook "the same as that of Christ Jesus: who, being in very nature God, did not consider equality with God something to be grasped, but made himself nothing, taking the very nature of a servant" (Philippians 2:5-7).

I think this is some of the foolishness of God that Paul talks about in I Corinthians 1:20-30. It's foolishness to ask people to give up their rights, to let themselves be pushed around, to place others above themselves. It's all very well in moderation, but really! There are limits.

Perhaps there are limits. I don't believe God asks women to wait hand and foot upon a husband whose idea of marriage is to keep wives barefoot, pregnant and thoroughly battered. I don't believe God asks men to sit idly in slavery and oppression, fawning at the feet of the oppressor, reveling in captivity. But I think God does call for submission nearly as radical. When someone takes your cloak, give your coat as well. If someone makes you carry something a mile, go the extra mile for them. In Christ there is neither slave nor free, but we should be willing to take on thankless tasks for one another even to the point of servility. We should give of ourselves, our time, and our money lavishly and with joy. This is not because we're worthless, because we deserve slavery, but because we are princes and princesses who have something to give, something which is needed.

Humans are inherently worthless, and should therefore work hard and push for their rights to achieve worth and recognition, to gain the acknowledgement of the masses. Humans are inherently priceless, and therefore can afford to work hard without pushing for rights, without human recognition or acknowledgement, with nothing but a "well done, good and faithful servant." If one of these ideas is true, the other is completely inside out and upside down.

Thread Breaks

At the moment, I'm earning my daily bread in an embroidery shop. It's nice working with my hands after working with my brain all through college, but some days make me want to scream.

Like today. Our embroidery is done with some marvelous computer-run machines which, once set up, are supposed to run automatically through the intricate patterns to produce yet another stunning work of art (or, more often, simple logo or monogram). The worker, in theory, goes about her business setting up the next run, doing small chores, etc while the machine plugs away. The only thing which can stop this beautiful process is a thread break. I leave it to the reader to imagine how rare this event is in this age of miraculous technology.

Today we got to run a 43,000-stitch design. This is about ten times as long as a typical design - tricky to start with, because the machines are more prone to thread breaks the longer they run. (Not that I'm implying that these marvelous machines ever have thread breaks.) This is, however, doable; we ran this design on Friday in under an hour. So it's time to make it more challenging, and do it on a leather vest! Leather is about the least embroidery-friendly substance in the known world, at least out of the things anyone would ever consider embroidering. (And I'm an expert on that list. Our customers have had us embroidering everything from car covers to interesting segments of men's boxers.) And just in case we might get bored, the design would run right over two seams on the back of the vest - seams done blue jean style, only thicker because of the leather. The needles almost burst themselves with, er, joy.

But how many thread breaks? you ask, being too clever to be fooled by my bitter sarcasm. How many thread breaks? I lost count. But to give you an idea how this was running... well, I said we got to do this "today." In reality, we started this thing at 1:30 PM on Friday. At 4:45, it was a little over halfway done, and I was nearly stark raving mad. How many thread breaks? I must remember to ask the marvelous computer that was running the machine. Given that the average time to fix a thread break is 2 minutes, and the average running time between thread breaks was 20 seconds, it ought to be mathematically possible to figure it out right now. Even so, it was running better than today: the last third took from 9:30 AM to 1:00 PM.

By the end, my biggest peeve was not the thread breaks. I understood that the leather was tricky (and probably sticky, from the point of view of a rapidly running machine). What drove me mad was the machine's attempt to take care of them itself. It would detect a thread break and stop immediately - even if the thread break was nonexistent, or something that would quickly take care of itself if the machine would run through it. At other times, I would watch the thread fray to nothing before my eyes, and yet the machine would keep running, determined to make it work. In either case, I would have to back the machine up and make it do twice as much work to make up the mixed-up section. Sometimes, the tangled mess would fray the thread still more, and I'd have to redo a section three, five, ten times.

Being the wonderfully spiritual obsessively analogizing person I am, I distracted myself by trying to find Great Lessons in the mess. It started out seeming obvious: Listen to the operator. However smart your programming might be, however adjustable you might be, you will be wrong often enough that the operator's opinion ought always to come first. And ignoring that will lead to a lot of mess, and a lot of fuss that could be avoided the second the operator is heeded. Good good. Excellent idea. Then I realized the analogy breaks down at the point where the operator feels an intense desire to take a sledgehammer to the whole operation after a certain point. And especially when the operator starts hating the whole business. I don't think God's patience is so finite.

So, make of it what you will. I will settle on spiritual warfare. Demonic interference is the only explanation for the machine managing to get still worse when I started humming "It Is Well With My Soul." They're out to get me, I tell you.

Learning to stand

I was recently ranting my mom about my frustrations with the evolution debate, and my mother, being a wonderful lovely person whom I do not deserve to have as a parent, listened politely and said little in disagreement, despite the fact that we agree on almost nothing in that field. We batted back and forth about whether intelligent design belonged in the classroom at all, whether strict division of instruction along subject lines is desirable, and the general nature of science as a subject. We had hammered out some rough truces, which was roughly satisfying, and then I fumed:

"Why do so many people waste so much time with this intelligent design in science class thing? It's not the end of the world to leave it out, nor to put it in."
"Some people just need to fight, I think."

And this is very true. I named this blog after a Bible passage which I feel expresses this desire to argue, to debate, to test. But for some reason this made me think.

There are a number of Great Debates at the moment in which Christianity figures prominently. Evolution. Abortion. Homosexuality. The boundaries of "freedom of religion." Actually, in each of the above Christianity is not only a player, but it's generally assumed that God's position (if there is a God) is set out in genuine Mt. Sinai stone for the world to see in, er, gray and gray. And Christians (on both sides) will claim that their desperate struggle is part of a desperate stand to protect God's interests, or at least God's interests for His people. Christians will bemoan the lack of spine which keeps fellow believers from standing against the prevailing winds of unbelief.

Certainly there are a lot of people in this world who could stand to learn a thing or three about standing up for the right thing. But being involved in a debate is not an indication of standing, or even swaying with the wind. It's hard to believe, I know, because it's so rarely observed, but humans can be contrary critters. There are actually people out there who prefer to lean against the wind. I know, I'm one of 'em. And some of us like to lean into the wind so hard that when the wind stops blowing, or we're taken into shelter, we fall flat on our faces.

I've wondered why I was born into privilege, into comfort, into a loving home in a relatively safe and prosperous country, and I think this is why. I need to learn to stand independent of the prevailing wind. I think the truly strong person is able to stand for what they believe without needing to push or pull against anyone or anything else, and I think God moves us away from the props which inhibit this. Now I just need to push everyone else into understanding this, and getting along while appreciating diversity of opinion, and then corralling everyone into the Right Point Of View as soon as my studies ascertain exactly what this is. Yeah.

Screwtape Writes Again

C.S. Lewis discovered a valuable trove of correspondence between Screwtape, a rather important infernal bureaucrat, and Wormwood, his nephew, a junior tempter. These Screwtape Letters provide useful insight into the inner workings of Hell.

I believe I may have found a fragment of another letter of Screwtape's, though to a different tempter. (Wormwood had but one patient, a male, before he failed and was fed to his superiors.) I record it below.

... You complain that your patient is self-aware and dedicated to thwarting her own faults. You complain that this makes it impossible for you to introduce subtle sins of sloth, self-indulgence, etc. You complain, in short, that this self-awareness and dedication render your job impossible.

My only reply is to wonder yet again what Slubgob is teaching you young fiends. How can you fail to notice the delightful possibilities inherent in her trying to thwart her faults? All you need do is bring her faults to her attention, and she will try to thwart. Humans are always worse than they think they are; I am sure that you will be able to surprise her with enough genuine faults (and even flagrant sins) that she will spend the greater part of her day trying to thwart. Her self-awareness simply means that she will do half the work for you. Soon she will become so engrossed with thwarting that you will be free to introduce imaginary sins and failings to the burden as you please. The result is a veritable banquet of misery, self-hatred and doubt.

Now this is a delicate point. You must never allow her to pause and ask herself, "But didn't Christ say that He came not for the righteous, but the sinners? Is not His sacrifice great enough for even my sin?" Our side have lost many to the Enemy in such circumstances, and those who have got past this obstacle can become deadly weapons in His hands. But I think the danger negligible. Any activity which focuses the patient away from the Enemy is to be desired. And if it is disguised in a noble package such as self-examination, so much the better.

It may surprise you to learn that this is one activity where revealing your influence can be helpful. The knowledge that she is (or has been) vulnerable to you may drive your patient into a still-deeper frenzy of negative soul searching. Never allow her to see the difference the Enemy has had in her life in the same time period. If she does ask that very obvious question, ask in return whether she has made as much progress as she ought. Then focus her not on her progress, but on the distance remaining (which, as I have said, is always greater than these humans suppose). Try convincing her that the sin is too great to be forgiven - a nice dash of pride and hubris which increases despair nicely. If all else fails, make her aware of how much time has been spent wrestling with such silly things as self-doubt and despair, and convince her that she must fix herself before anyone discovers how wretched she has permitted herself to be. Then of course you may trot out her failings again for her review, and begin the cycle again.

The great joke, of course, is that humans are always at least as wretched as your patient believes herself to be. The Enemy had taken this into consideration when He made His atrocious offer of amnesty, just as He considered how His people would fail after accepting Him. (Remember Peter's denial?) And yet He still promises that He, "who began a good work" in each of His people, "will be faithful to complete it". This is all part of His mysterious plan, which He calls "unconditional Love". Our top fiends are even now working to unmask this fiction, but until the facts of the matter are revealed, we must content ourselves with the Enemy's term. At any rate, this is the reason why contact with the Enemy is so dangerous. It might begin all sorts of pursuits of His "Love", which are never desirable.

Posted for the benefit of two friends - one literal, one proverbial. I hope it's coherent enough.

Constants

I'm a shameless magpie when it comes to ideas. That's why the bulk of this post is someone else's work. But it's good work!

My friend has been musing of late about constants. He started out thinking about how hard it would be to simulate air in a computer program, because it's too chaotic and doesn't lend itself to neat mathematical constants. He then continued to think about other things which aren't constants:

There are a lot of them. We make assumptions. We ignore variety in favour of a simpler, unified outlook. It's actually not a bad thing, really -- it's necessary to deal with the chaos of reality. I remember the first time I did wallpapering -- okay, the only time -- and it surprised me. The walls weren't straight. The bathroom wasn't a perfect block, but more trapezoidal. It makes sense once I realized it, but until then ... well... I'd just picked the nicest, easiest numbers, and assumed they were so.

The same thing happened when people studied the orbits of planets. They wanted them to be circles. Not ellipses, as they turned out to be. Except, wait a sec -- ARE they ellipses, or is that just the nearest equivilant -- once more, we make things nice, smooth, and homogeneous when they're probably not -- not really.

So, what's my point?

Groups aren't people.

Let me run that by you again. Groups aren't people. People aren't groups.

An example, maybe?

The ACLU does not have a anti-christian agenda. The ACLU does have a anti-christian agenda. Republicans want war and dictatorship. Republicans want freedom and peace. I could go on, but ... eh.

All four of those statements are true. (Five if you include my ability and lack of desire to go on). Contradictory, but true. Why? Because the ACLU has thousands of people in it. There are millions of Republicans. Some of them are this; some of them are that. Groups are not constants. Groups aren't people -- they CONTAIN people. And yes, people have agendas, and some of them are hateful and some of them are loving and some of them don't even know who they are or why they're in a group to begin with... but to indicate that a group is one thing or another as if every member of the group is the same as every other is akin to racism, sexism, or any of those other discriminatory things that people tend to frown on.

So, I get a bit annoyed when people talk about a group as if it were a single entity; a single will, a single purpose, a single group-mind controlling everything. It's a tactic of hate, usually, because it's easy to hate groups -- and it's easy to assign them motives, because there's bound to be someone like that in the group, somewhere.

So -- groups of people? Not a constant.

People are people.

Credit goes to the Pirate Pope.

Starting with an explanation of the title

Last night, I wrote in my LiveJournal,

I've been trawling the blogosphere again. I should start a blog. I always like to shout and contradict people. The only trouble is, I'd be forced to be quiet and agreeable. Because that's the only way to contradict all of them.

Then I realized that I don't have to contradict everyone. I can contradict one person at a time! I can debate to my heart's content!

This would have delighted me to no end four years ago, a freshman starting college, ready to take on the errors of the world. Lately, though, I'm noticing a troubling trend in my contradictions: they seem to come from a single source. I've actually started to believe something, something bigger than a mere desire to always show the other side of an argument.

That something is rooted in one of my favorite passages of Scripture, Isaiah 27:2-5. NIV specifically - most other translations come across somewhat differently.

2In that day -

"Sing about a fruitful vineyard:
3 I, the LORD, watch over it;
I water it continually.
I guard it day and night
so that no one may harm it.
4 I am not angry.
If only there were briers and thorns confronting me!
I would march against them in battle;
I would set them all on fire.
5Or else let them come to me for refuge;
let them make peace with me,
yes, let them make peace with me."

I've always been stunned by this God who is so fiercely protective of his own, yet willing to make peace with all. And I realize this is one good impulse I have: to fight evil where I see it, and yet to make peace afterward. I like peace. I like faith, hope, and love; I like love, joy and peace; I like all these things so short in supply in most blogs.

And yet I keep thinking - in Philippians 4:8, we're told what sort of things to think about. "Whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable - if anything is excellent or praiseworthy - think about such things." Truth tops the list. So if some ugly truths have to be faced before we can get to what is lovely and admirable - well, bring it on.