A different interpretation of Isaiah 2:4

I have always thought that Isaiah 2:4 was referring to a peaceful time when people will no longer choose to make war on each other because they are subject to God's law. It says:

"And he shall judge among the nations, and shall rebuke many people: and they shall beat their swords into plowshares, and their spears into pruninghooks: nation shall not lift up sword against nation, neither shall they learn war any more."

My husband and I were discussing this verse the other day, though, and he proposed a different interpretation. The reason people will beat their swords into plowshares could be because there is such a bad famine that they must put aside their differences and focus all their attention on growing food just to stay alive. Maybe they have to stop warring with each other and work together to survive.

Looking at the food shortages and predictions about coming famine, he could possibly be right. At some point on the continuum, people fight each other for territory or resources. But when it gets really bad and there are no resources, they turn their attention inward. It becomes the survival of the individual, not the nation. There is no energy for collective warfare.

And on that note, I'm going to go out and see how my garden is doing... 

I miss the card catalogue

These days, we are fed a stream of things on the internet based on our past searches and activity. I look up greenhouse kits once, and blam! I'm inundated with ads for greenhouse kits, and the Youtube videos that come up for me suddenly include things about greenhouse use and care. I bought a Nissan, and suddenly I'm getting ads for Nissans (as if I'm going to buy another when I've just bought one!). I watch one video on Croatian cookery, and I get spam emails for cooking pans and travel companies. Before long, all my internet "feeds" are limited to about four topics. I may think I'm accessing lots of information on the internet, but actually I'm being restricted to those limited "feeds." Sometimes I type in a really wild search, completely off topic, just to refresh my feeds a bit.

Remember the good old days when you walked into the library and were faced with banks of tiny drawers filled with index cards? They pointed you to sources of information on any topic you could imagine. (And they really satisfied my compulsion to organize things into little boxes.) Yes, Google searches can theoretically look up any information on any topic -- but the results that come up are based on popularity. What comes up one day may be different from what comes up tomorrow. On the internet you are restricted to what it wants to show you, and it keeps track of what you search. At a library, you have access to every book, all books, on whatever topic, any genre, on every shelf. It's all there for your perusal. And no one knows what you looked up unless you check the book out.

We need to protect our libraries, support them financially, support hardcopy books, and take a deep look at the idea of book banning. Libraries are the last safe haven of information. And when the EMP goes off and takes out your internet, libraries may be the only source of information.

The perfect friend

I was thinking over some fond memories, and I've come up with the definition of the perfect friend: You haven't seen each other in a year or two, but when you finally get together, you head for the beach with folding chairs and snacks, get yourselves all set up, and then sit side by side for hours...reading.

Sober Thoughts on the Death of a Neighbour

A woman I know died very suddenly and unexpectedly last week. It is the second time I've had a friend die without warning. The last time I saw her, I was out walking the dog and she rode past me on her bicycle and called out a hello. She was always on the go, busy with her children, involved in life. I didn't know her well enough, but everything I did know about her was likeable. She was young and vibrant, and she wasn't finished yet.

The conflicts and worries and stresses of this life really aren't that significant, you know, when you stop to think about it. It can all be gone in a moment, the unfinished projects, the half-read books, the unsaid apologies, the secretly-nursed hurts, the triumphs and acquisitions, the carefully-built bank account, the reputation, the granite countertops. The things we get caught up in -- paint colours, career choices, waist sizes -- don't matter in the end. For all of us, what matters will be who we have become as people, what we have learned, and how we have loved and served others -- those are the only things we take with us.

I watch leaders of the world get caught up in ego and posturing and flexing of muscles, and I just roll my eyes. We are hurtling through space on this teeny tiny speck in the universe. None of us are driving it. None of us can control it. None of us will be here for long. And yet we still argue and shove each other around on this speck and forget we're just plummeting through space for a very limited time. Surely there are better ways to spend what time we have.

Thought

There are days I look up from churning butter or threading my loom and get the weirdest feeling I was born in the wrong century.