Talking to my pillow

I have been having conversations with God about this whole light and salt thing. The bible says we should "let our light shine" and "we are the salt of the earth". However, I discovered and accepted that I am not the type of person [or Christian for that matter] to wear a badge and bash people on their heads with the good news of the gospel. My arrival at this expression of faith was not a result of loud prayers or persuasive music [neither of which provide comfort to me]. I was convinced by the smallest of snow flakes and the weakest blade of grass. 

Upon further thought, I realised that I was more worried that if my pastor were to stumble upon my scribbles, he might not approve of my choice not to quote a bible verse in every paragraph [or that I quoted a verse and did not provide a proper citation]. Then I realised that those are the things that give me headaches; having to remember to remember God, as if I had somehow forgotten Him [see now I must capitalise words and underline things]; as if there is life apart from Him. So...He hears all conversations and He knows what I wanted to write as much as what I did really write. I doubt he is threatened when I do not capitalise the pronouns used in reference to him. But then there are those bits of Leviticus and Deuteronomy and the Chronicles where people died for using the Lord's name in vain. Then there's the story of how the jews kept missing letters out of God's name because it was too hoky to be said. It doesn't end there. Paul [or was it Peter] mentioned that we should "approach the throne of grace with boldness." This conversation shall continue to continue. 

In other news, I was working with a sieve for most of today. It's the kind that is meant to be used with a Ro-Tap sieve shaker. it reminded me of the hours spent sieving what I thought was gold dust, during my internship at Entebbe. Chris gave me a whole bunch of supposed minerals and a bunch of test methods and then made sure I was busy sieving and shaking for the bulk of June/July 2006. The internship did not count towards my school grade yet Daddy hounded me for months for a report on the work I had done. I was reluctant to get it done but I could not disappoint him. I am not the kind to walk away from such challenges, even though I had no idea how to write a technical report. Eventually, I produced something. Daddy was so proud of my little draft and printed various copies which he promptly distributed to his colleagues at work, [Another example of my father's love for printing material is a picture of me skydiving that I found on the dining table a few weeks ago. What does he do with these copies of everything?] Later, when we actually studied the science of sieves [yes, there is a method and madness to sieves] I was glad that I was aptly prepared for the humming of the Ro-Tap. 

I think the first time Daddy got me to write something, I was in primary 3. He got me to write an article to the Monitor newspaper, reporting about my school and about how much I loved science and month. I got a green monitor shirt that I have long out grown, but I think it is still in my father's house. Then, later, I remember writing an essay on my first trip to my mother's village. I also had to report about a trip to Kenya in 2002 [he made millions of copies of this too]. My first couple of jobs were all about writing reports on experiments I had carried out, or on events that I had attended or on other people's adventures.

I came full circle, almost, and found myself wondering about the mesh size of sieves and particle size distributions. Truly, nothing is random. Everything in life prepares you for something else. [Now, isn't that something God would be all about?]

I was all set for a boring night in with a quick meal, but something's a-stir. Ellie and I ended up touring the centre of town, marvelling at the orderlinesss of the city, its tranquility and the beauty of Spanish architecture. If I were a believer in the saints of the Roman Catholic church, I would pray to them to bless her gentle heart for all time and to protect her darling little Ximene. While I don't pray to the saints or burn incense or candles, I shall pray for God to give her joy immeasurable. Now to bed.