For me, music serves as an emotional warehouse, capturing my feelings at a particular moment and storing them. When a song becomes associated with a person, or place, or time in my life, listening to that song brings up those memories even years later. This happens even when the content of the song itself has nothing whatsoever to do with those memories.
Example: ‘Red’ by Taylor Swift. The lyrics are word candy, and the music is delightfully energetic. (Last week, after eating a sumptuous lunch and then driving an hour in the warm summer sun, I felt myself starting to nod off… so I rolled my windows down, turned on ‘Red’ full-blast, and sang along. It worked.) But that’s not the reason I like the song. The main reason I enjoy listening to ‘Red’ is because it reminds me of my friend Olivia. You see, Olivia really likes Taylor Swift, and ‘Red’ is one of her favorites. It’s become one of a handful of songs that reminds of a specific person in my life. Because of my connection to Olivia, I value ‘Red’ in a way that has nothing to do with the song itself. (‘Red’ also provides great fodder for philosophical discussions. Just try comparing Swift’s use of similes to Homer’s in ‘The Iliad’, or use Plato’s exploration of knowledge in ‘Theaetetus’ to think about what it would mean to ‘know someone you’ve never met’) https://youtu.be/34Kql5L5eeE -Zachary Holbrook
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Sometimes the most challenging part of challenging times comes after they end. When I face a crisis, God makes Himself known to me in new ways. It’s easy to see the transformation underway— both in myself and in the world around me. Intense suffering begets intense growth. I’ve had mountaintop spiritual experiences. Moments when the difficulties ahead seem overwhelming, but I’m able to rest in God and place childlike trust in Him. And also moments that seem like the climax of an Avengers film— you know, that scene where the forces of darkness are running rampant, and heroes rises up to resist them. Those are the moments when it feels like God claps me on the shoulder and sends me out into the world to complete His work, and I’m confident because I know He’s prepared me in every way I could possibly need. But those moments end. The crisis winds down. The forces of darkness retreat (for a time). Peace and stability reign. And then I have to figure out how to do ordinary life again. Movies skip over these parts. But I live every second— eating, sleeping, cleaning, playing games with my brother, figuring out how to make money so I can eat in the future, and a hundred other mundane activities. It can be a bit of letdown, really. And that’s why I’m glad to share this song with you today. It’s about trusting God in ordinary life, after the intense spiritual experiences have faded. It’s about remembering that He’s always present, whether you’re in the middle of a battle or sitting beneath the shade of an oak tree on a languid summer afternoon. The song is called ‘Guessing Games’, by Skye Peterson. Here it is: https://youtu.be/d-ftv1WTKlQ -Zachary Holbrook When I was thirteen, my parents gave me an iPad mini. Of all the apps I ever had on that iPad, the one I used most was a simple program by an indie developer. It was called ‘Scripture Memory’, and it did exactly one thing— helped memorize the Bible.
Specifically, this app let me type the first letter of each word of a passage. As I typed the verse I was memorizing, the words would appear on screen, flashing red whenever I made a mistake. That’s it. A simple, intuitive system that I used to memorize several large chunks of the Bible, including Paul’s entire letter to the Colossians. I have no idea who coded the app, but he must’ve had a busy life. At least, busy enough that he stopped updating the app to keep it compatible with iOS software updates. All I know is that by the time my old iPad wore down and I got a new one, ‘Scripture Memory’ was no longer on the app store. I tried using a flashy big-brand alternative, ‘Scripture Typer’. The basic premise was the same— but this app had dozens of bells and whistles that distracted me from actually memorizing the Bible. I had to wade through a swamp of notifications— “Share your memory progress with your friends!” and whatnot— before I could get to the passage I wanted to memorize. Worst of all, ‘Scripture Typer’ focuses on memorizing isolated verses without context. When I tried to memorize longer passages, it failed to format them correctly, and it kept asking me if I wanted to split them into individual verses— which meant I would have to type the reference after every single verse. The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want. Psalm 23:1. He makes me lie down in green pastures. He leads me beside still waters. Psalm 23:2. (That got old fast). BUT I recently discovered new app on the app store— one that’s even cleaner and more efficient than the old ‘Scripture Memory’. It’s called ‘Verselocker’, and I’ve begun using it to memorize the book of Habakkuk. Every aspect of ‘Verselocker’ is free. It lets me type the first letter of every word, just like my old app. It has other features, too, like the ability to read passages out loud. But all its features appear in a quiet, unobtrusive way, so they don’t distract from your main goal. It’s a very straightforward, useful app, and I highly recommend it for anyone wanting to memorize more of the Bible. Here’s a link to ‘Verselocker’ on the app store: https://apps.apple.com/us/app/bible-memory-verselocker/id1544933853 If you have a non-apple device, you can download it on google play or the android store. (Also… I have no affiliation with Verselocker or the company that developed it. This app could’ve been coded by polar bears for all I know. I just downloaded it from the app store and think it’s pretty awesome.) For this week’s Song Spam Saturday, I’m taking a break from sharing personal stories about songs that have been deeply meaningful to me, and instead I’m sharing with you something fun. ‘El Grillo’ is a lively tune by one of the most famous composers of the 15th century, Josquin de Prez. Even though it’s written for a choir during the Renaissance, it sounds nothing like the soaring church music typically associated with that period. Instead, it’s fast-paced and catchy. So catchy, in fact, after my freshman class learned about this piece in Music, some of the sophomores started singing it while running around the kitchen, even though a full year had passed since they’d listened to it for their own music class. Here it is: https://youtu.be/OI-bQ0RkArA The lyrics are in Italian, and you probably don’t speak Italian, so you may be wondering… what is this song about? Well, ‘grillo’ means ‘cricket’, and the song compares the song of a cricket to the song of a bird. Although birds are typically thought of as more beautiful musicians, Josquin points out that they stop singing during the heat of the day, whereas the cricket endures. He ends with the line “the cricket sings alone for love.” The song has been the subject of much analysis in the 500 or so years since its publication. As I found out in music class last fall, many music historians interpret it as a metaphor for romantic love: perseverance and fidelity (i.e song of the cricket) are more valuable than sweet but quickly fading promises (i.e song of the birds). In short: it’s a catchy love song. Kind of like if Taylor Swift had lived during the Renaissance. I hope you enjoy it. -Zachary Holbrook By the time I was 11, I had all of life figured out. I’d found three book series that I liked, and I figured I could just keep rereading those three over and over and never again have to worry about finding new books. One of those books was The Mysterious Benedict Society by Trenton Lee Stewart. Eventually, I read it so many times I grew sick of it, and didn’t touch it again for six years. This summer, I finally returned to the story, and came to a conclusion: it’s quite good. My favorite description of The Mysterious Benedict Society is this: imagine Harry Potter, but instead of the students having magical powers, they’re all just really nerdy. Oh, and the school is evil. The story follows a team of four incredibly talented orphans as they enroll at a school that seems bent on purging its students’ minds of logic and common sense. But the school’s the center of a much larger nefarious plot, and Reynie, Sticky, Kate and Constance are spies sent to uncover it. Our four heroes are strangers to each other at the beginning of the book, but in the midst of danger and with the guidance of the wise old Mr. Benedict, their friendship grows into something powerful and beautiful. The character development is my favorite part of the book. I especially enjoy how Reynie, Sticky and Kate grow in their relationship with Constance— the most difficult-to-love member of the team. I highly recommend either a) reading The Mysterious Benedict Society yourself or b) giving it to your child to read (or both). The TV show: The Mysterious Benedict Society was recently adapted into a miniseries that is currently being released on Disney+. Read the book first. I suspect it would have been better as a single film rather than eight hour-long episodes. As is, loads of unnecessary subplots bog down the core story, including a random high-stakes tetherball match (I’m honestly baffled as to why anyone thought adding that would be good idea). The characters fall short of the vibrancy they possess in the book. The show leaves out most of the small details that really made them come to life (like Sticky’s bald head and Constance taking naps all the time). Even Mr. Benedict’s narcolepsy barely gets a passing mention. But despite its flaws, I’m still going to watch the remaining episodes as they come out. Mainly because my little brother Nate loves it and begs me to watch the new episode with him every Friday. The show’s not bad— it just could have been a lot better. I’d like to see it animated, mainly for Constance’s sake. There’s no actor on earth who could do her character justice. I faced my first-ever finals week as a college student with an unusual problem. I had several major essays and a video project due— which I’d already completed. I had a big test for Music class coming up— which I’d already studied for. I had nothing to do. Most people would think of this as a good thing. But at the time, when I was already in emotional turmoil for various other reasons, it was kind of devastating. I was lonely— all my friends were busy cramming for finals. I knew they were going through a challenging time and wanted to participate in it alongside them, but I couldn’t. Because I was different from every other student. I realized I had an unusual gift. I wrote an essay in four hours that my roommate needed four days to complete. But this ability left me feeling out of place in the school community, because I was unable to feel the same pressure and intensity that everyone else was feeling. I also felt excluded from the tremendous sense of relief and victory that appeared once finals ended. My classmates and I had all completed the same tasks, but they’d had to climb a mountain. I’d gone for a walk in the park. I managed to make myself feel isolated. And even though my feelings were out-of-touch with reality, as my friends all continued to love and accept me, it was a troubling time all the same. Over Christmas break, I wondered if I really belonged at college, or if I ought to focus my time and energy on completing some more important task. I could never identify what exactly the ‘more important task’ was that I should be doing, but surely I was wasting my time by pursuing a liberal arts degree at a nearly-unknown school In the midst of all these thoughts, I kept listening to this song. It’s called ‘Tug of War’, by Juli Strawbridge. https://youtu.be/74HJaPaVjNE ’Tug of War’ resonated with me in a special way. You see, Juli Strawbridge is a graduate of my college, and she wrote this song for her friend and fellow student Ethan, who had become my good friend as well. And I thought, “well, if someone else could feel the same uncertainty I feel, in a very similar situation, and come to peace with that, maybe I can too.” And so, after spending Christmas break with my family in California and seriously considering dropping out of college, I decided instead to get on a plane back to Tennessee and give it another chance. That’s how ‘Tug of War’, in addition to being one of my favorite songs ever, became one big reason I ended up spending the last five months in Tennessee. And I’m glad I did. A lot happened— including mold, snow, COVID, and my roommate forgetting to cook for months on end. But if you want those stories, you’ll have to come to Tennessee and talk with me and my classmates in person. The important thing is that I got a lot better at accepting my unique gifts, and even procrastinated a little bit so I’d have some work to do as finals approached. Everything turned out well. In August of 2019, I received the incredible blessing of serving at a wedding. The bride was my high school teacher, and she was fulfilling her dream of having her students play a vital role in the ceremony. Together with my classmates, I set up tables, welcomed guests, and prepared food. That night provided a tiny glimpse of God’s kingdom on earth. Simple beauty abounded— from the venue in the forest to the elegant arrangement of Costco’s rotisserie chicken as we served it on wooden platters. And in the midst of all that joyful service, I heard a song, a wedding gift written for the bride and groom. It’s called “Beauty in Our Eyes”, and even two years later it remains one of my favorite songs of all time. I wanted to share it with you today: https://youtu.be/EDHXJcloowY It’s rich in appreciation of the goodness God offers. I hope you’ll enjoy it. Last year, while in quarantine, I was reading through the book of Numbers when I noticed something weird: God gets mad at a prophet for obeying him. At least, that’s how it appears at first glance. But I read the rest of the book, and some details stood out to me, details that made the weird bits make more sense. Today, I’d like to share what I learned with you. The story starts in chapter 22. Balak, the king of the Moabites, has a problem. A powerful nomadic nation has set up camp across the river Jordan, one too powerful for Balak’s armies to defeat. Two neighboring kings— Sihon of the Ammonites and Og of Bashan— have already attacked them, only to be destroyed. So Balak seeks out supernatural aid. There’s a prophet nearby, Balaam, who has a track record of successful curses. A good, solid curse— that’s what Balak needs to stop the Israelite threat once and for all. He sends messengers to Balaam, loaded with gold and silver to pay the prophet for his services. But Balaam— having been warned by God not to take the job— refuses. So Balak ups his offer, saying “I will surely do you great honor, and whatever you say to me I will do. Come, curse this people for me” (Num. 22:17). Balaam considers, and this time, he gets a new message from God: “If the men have come to call you, rise, go with them; but only do what I tell you.” This is where it gets weird. Because here’s the next thing the Bible tells us: “Balaam rose in the morning and saddled his donkey and went with the princes of Moab. But God’s anger was kindled because he went” (22:21-22, emphasis added). Let’s review: 1) God tells Balaam to go 2) Balaam goes 3) God is angry What?!? A look at the broader context of this passage reveals Balaam’s motivation and helps us understand God’s displeasure. Remember, God didn’t just tell Balaam to go— he also gave specific instructions to “only do what I tell you.” As later becomes clear, Balaam has a lot more in mind than simply following God’s instructions. He thinks he knows how God works, and he’s hatching a nefarious plan to remove God’s favor from the Israelites. But before we explore that, we get to look at the most famous part of this story: the talking donkey. Three times the angel of the Lord blocks Balaam’s path as he travels, and three times his donkey proves more perceptive than her master. Each time she turns from the road to avoid the angel, Balaam grows angry and hits her. The third time, she talks. “What have I done to you, that you have struck me these three times?” (22:28). Balaam, interestingly, responds as if conversing with his donkey were the most normal thing in the world: “Because you have made a fool of me. I wish I had a sword in my hand, for then I would kill you.” Now something really unusual happens. The donkey reasons. She offers a calm, rational response that shows Balaam how foolish he is: “Am I not your donkey, which you have ridden all you life long to this day? Is it my habit to treat you this way?” The donkey asks her rider to why she might be behaving differently than she has in the past. What it is about this journey that makes it different from all the other journeys they’ve been on together? In becoming angry with his steed, what truth has Balaam missed? Balaam, perhaps chastened, answers with a simple “No.” Then, at last, he sees the angel of the Lord, and realizes the truth— his life was in grave danger, and he was only saved because the donkey proved smarter than he was. “Why have you struck your donkey these three times?” asks the angel of the Lord. “I have come out to oppose you, because your way is perverse before me. If she had not turned aside from me, surely just now I would have killed you and let her live” (22:32-33). God uses the donkey to steer Balaam toward repentance. By undermining one of his basic assumptions (that he knows better than his animal), God gives him a chance to review his other basic assumptions— assumptions about the character of God. Assumptions about the “perverse way” that he plans to ally with the king of Moab. Balaam has plans that are far astray from anything God ever intended, and here he receives an opportunity to rethink them. Again God repeats his earlier warning: “Go with the men, but speak only the word that I tell you.” At first, Balaam seems to heed this warning. Three times, Balak asks him to curse the Israelites, and three times Balaam blesses them instead. Each time he reminds Balak— “All that Lord says, that I must do” (23:26). After his third blessing, the Bible tells us that “Balak’s anger was kindled against Balaam, and he struck his hands together. And Balak said to Balaam, ‘I called you to curse my enemies, and behold, you have blessed them these three times. Therefore now flee to your own place” (24:10-11). But before Balaam can run away from the angry king, he must deliver one more message, a prophecy predicting Israel’s ultimate triumph over Moab. The Bible doesn’t detail Balak’s reaction, but my guess is that if he was angry before, he’s absolutely livid now. Imagine you’ve hired a plumber to fix your sink. Not only does he break all the pipes, he also tells you that your septic tank is going to explode and spew human waste all over your house. Yeah... that’s pretty much what just happened with Balaam. But wait— perhaps Balak threatens Balaam, or perhaps the prophet wants another shot at all that honor and wealth the king promised. Either way, Balaam hasn’t given up on the job of cursing the Israelites. He ignores God’s warning. And he puts his nefarious plan into action. The Biblical narrative shifts abruptly, leaving behind Balak and Balaam to focus on the Israelites. Turns out they’re not doing so well at listening to God either. “The people began to whore with the daughters of Moab. These invited the people to the sacrifices of their gods, and the people ate and bowed down to their gods. So Israel yoked himself to Baal of Peor” (25:1-3). This is a fundamental failure on the part of the Israelites to be who God called them to be. The image of Israel’s yoke is one of bondage. The Israelite’s sexual immorality and idolatry has returned them to the state of slavery, as they were in Egypt before God called them. What exactly is going on here? And why does this story follow directly on the heels of Balaam’s failed curse attempts? The answer becomes clear in chapter 31, when the identity of the one who sent the ‘daughters of Moab’ is revealed. “Moses said to them, ‘Have you let these women live? Behold, these, on Balaam’s advice, caused the people of Israel to act treacherously against the Lord in the incident of Peor” (31:15-16, emphasis added). Balaam recognizes that he can never drive God away from Israel. That as long as God’s favor rests upon them, the Israelites will defeat the Moabites in every battle they fight. And God will never leave his people. But... I imagine him whispering in Balak’s ear after the failed cursing... but, if he can get the Israelites to leave their God... And so he sends in women with orders to seduce. This seems the most likely explanation for why the angel of the Lord called his way “perverse”— he had this scheme in mind from the very beginning. Balaam has an accurate understanding of God’s power. But he completely fails to grasp God’s love. The scheme anticipates that God will no longer aid the Israelites once they start worshipping other Gods, thus leaving them open to a Moabite attack. But that’s not what happens at all. God doesn’t abandon them to be attacked by the Moabites. Instead, he attacks them himself. In their idolatry and sexual immorality, the Israelites have brought a terrible spiritual sickness upon themselves, one they’re unable to recognize. To open their eyes, God links their sin to a physical sickness, one that kills twenty-four thousand of them (25:9). God raises up Phinehas, the zealous priest who purges evildoers from the tent of meeting and makes “atonement for the people of Israel” (25:13). He strikes down those among the Israelites who align themselves with the false gods, thus bringing an end to the plague. God attacks the Israelites, not to utterly destroy them, but to bring about repentance and restoration. He pours out fierce anger, but not forever. The Israelites repent of their sin and are God’s people once more. Balaam’s plan fails because he never accounted for God’s love. In the end, Balaam causes the very outcome he was hired to prevent. With Phinehas at their head, the Israelites attack the Midianites in order to avenge their deception. Balaam himself is among those killed in the conflict (25:16-18, 31:8). Thousands of years later, Jesus would utter some words that summarize the warning Balaam ignored: “Temptations to sin are sure to come, but woe to him through whom they come! It would be better for him if a millstone were hung around his neck and he were cast into the sea than that he should cause one of these little ones to sin” (Luke 17:1-2). Because God loves his people, he wants to free them from sin. And his love can never be stopped— so anyone who tries to interfere with a believer’s struggle to become righteous is bound to be defeated. That’s one lesson I drew from the book of Numbers last year— that, and the lesson that donkeys are sometimes smarter than people. I recently became aware of a mystery that lies deep in the human mind— a mystery I’m only aware of because of the bizarre behavior it produces. You see, I was in a casual conversation with a couple of my female classmates, and they mentioned that they’d watched a vapid and cliched chick flick recently. Because they’d hoped for a good movie and were disappointed? No! To my horror, I realized they’d turned on this movie fully aware of its awfulness. At first, I thought this must be a bizarre form of self-flagellation associated with occult rituals, and wondered if I should inform the faculty. Fortunately, my classmates clarified that it was perfectly normal, saying “sometimes you just want to turn off your brain for a couple of hours, you know?” I prefer books to film, but I feel the same way. Sometimes I don’t need a masterpiece. I don’t always look for complex themes or characters a dozen layers deep or exquisite prose. Sometimes a good story is good enough. There are few transcendental masterpieces in this world; there are many good stories. Enough that you should never have to read a truly bad story, even if you’re just looking to relax. Relaxation is good. Relaxation while reading a good story? Even better. When a random author emailed me out of the blue and asked me to review her novel, I wasn’t sure what to expect. But I had some time to fill in between homework assignments, and E.B Roshan is a fellow Christian as well as a fellow author, so I agreed. She sent me a mobi file of her story, For Better and Worse, and I dove into it. And... It was a good story. Not life-altering, but good. At 50k words, it’s in the gray area between novella and novel— short enough for me to read in an evening. Which I did, enjoying the relatable characters and well-paced plot. Boris and Anna are a married couple running a catering service in the midst of a war-torn city with their first child on the way. They struggle to love each other despite the conflict building between them— Anna wanting to flee to a safer city, Boris wanting to stay. Things only get worse when Boris rashly stands up to injustice and draws the attention of the local mob boss. The worldbuilding is weird— we get a couple brief mentions of World War 3 ending, so it’s set in an alternate universe, but not one with any distinctive features. Dor is a generic war-ravaged city. But unless you’re looking for an intricate, well-thought out alternate history, this won’t be a big problem. The setting doesn’t explore many interesting questions because it never raises them in the first place. It’s a romance— the relationship between Boris and Anna serves as the story’s emotional core. But it has the distinction of featuring an already married couple, which I enjoyed. Oh, it’s also the fourth book in a series. I read it without having read the other three, and it stands alone just fine. Conclusion: Next time you feel the urge to watch a chick flick, read For Better and Worse instead. The title says it all. Better: this book. Worse: super dumb movies that somehow people still pay money to see. Why would you want a worse thing when you could have a better? Last week, I witnessed the biggest torrential downpour of my life. The sky broke open and vented the full force of its fury. At times, the world seemed to be at the bottom of a waterfall. At others, the rain stopped, but the gray clouds kept constant watch, ready for the next outburst. Lightning flashed from the east to the west. Thunder hearkened back to the Civil War, echoing the artillery shells that exploded on Franklin’s battlefields. Or, if you prefer a more peaceful analogy, think of it the way my friend Emily desired it: God was rearranging the furniture. And he broke the plumbing in the process. I’d seen rain before, but not like this. In California, the sky holds a grudge. Its rain comes slow but steady, drizzling for as long as a week straight. The world becomes grey and damp. The rain falls and falls, but almost never heavily, until the storm finally peters out. Not so in Tennessee. Here, the sky lets its anger out all at once. Clouds darken, thunder booms, and it pours. Great sheets of rainwater pelt the ground. Then just as quickly as it started, the storm relents, and the sun emerges once more. This storm came in fits and bursts. When I went out for my morning run on Saturday, I thought I’d be fine because it wasn’t raining. By the time I got back, I was so soaked you could’ve wrung me like a dishrag. But by the next day, the last of the clouds had cleared— and left behind a wondrous sight. So. Much. Water. This time, I had to alter my morning run because my typical route was flooded. But it was worth it. I loved seeing the park in a totally new way. I saw some very happy ducks This bench would form the perfect scene for two lovers— just sitting together, bare feet dangling in the water, enjoying the rich scent of a world reborn. Trees rising over the water like sentinels A new peninsula is formed. Imagine if the entire park were ruled by various nations of tiny people… how would the drastic changes in geography wrought by the flood force them to change? Sunlight gleaming off the water… it looks like fairies could live here. Perhaps the tiny people will have the seek the help of magical creatures to in order to learn the ship-craft they need to survive in this strange new world. Those two little tiny black dots sticking up out of the water are turtle-heads. I tried to get a picture of one closer to the shore but they always swam away when they saw me coming. I didn’t make it to church Sunday morning because the country issued a flash flood warning, advising against driving anywhere. I decided to stay home rather than risk getting stuck in something like this: Since I couldn’t attend church, I spent a couple hours in the park, praying and reflecting on God’s goodness. Then I went on a long walk and explored new parts of my neighborhood. It turned out to be incredibly refreshing. My social life is now more active than ever before, so it was good to spend some time alone. The biggest storm I’ve ever seen thus far has passed, and I ended up grateful for it, even though getting soaked was annoying. I’m thoroughly enjoying spring in Tennessee. The fresh air and longer days invigorate me like nothing else. -Zachary Holbrook |
Progress on Doombear, Rough draft:10%
Progress on The Lore of Yore, third draft:
100%
"In truth, by leaving, I was seeking only one thing. A journey."
-Oathbringer, pg 981 Types of blog posts:
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