Mowgli was bought by a bull

I had this friend in college that loved to take lines from secular songs and make them spiritual. It was a fun game to play. We learned after a while that most songs had lyrics in them that could, in some way or another, be turned into a spiritual thing. Probably because a lot of songs are about love and well, the story of Jesus is all about love. Obviously, not all songs apply in this situation, but the point is that it was fun to take something not spiritual and see a comparison. Let me give you my own example.

The other day I finished reading "The Jungle Books." If you watched Disney movies as a kid, then you know the story of Mowgli, raised by wolves in the jungle. In my quiet time today I came across Acts 20:28 "...the church of God which He purchased with His own blood," and I thought of Mowgli. What does Mowgli have to do with us being purchased by the blood of Christ? If you know well the story of Mowgli, then you know that Bagheera "bought" Mowgli into the wolf pack. A man-cub, who by the way does not belong in the jungle, was bought for the price of a bull. Then he was allowed to live among the wolf pack as one of them, the Free People. Are we not sinners purchased by the blood of Christ, and then allowed to live as saints, though we don't deserve it?

This morning though, what I thought more about, was the debt that Mowgli lived in the rest of his life. At the end of the story, Mowgli wants to leave the jungle and live among his people. But Mowgli wouldn't leave because he owed his life to the jungle and Bagheera who bought him with the bull. I'm not looking any deeper than that, because really the story doesn't line up with the story of Jesus. But my initial, surface level, thoughts were, what if we lived our lives with the same mentality as Mowgli. All throughout the book, he knew and remembered that he was bought at a price. He owed his life to the jungle and Bagheera. I don't remember often enough that I was purchased. That my life is not my own, but that I owe it to the One who bought me. How different would my life look if I remembered better?

B&B days

Mondays are B&B days. What does that mean you ask?? Beach and Book day. Every Monday I go to the beach, because I am being culturally Italian, and I bring a book to read on the train ride there and back. Sounds simple, but let me give you some history.

Upon arriving in Naples, I disliked reading. I may have even made fun of a few select people who always wanted me to take them to the library for fun. What nerds right? Hypocrite! Apparently I am a hypocrite. I now find pleasure in wasting an afternoon in a bookstore.

That being the history, let me give you the future. I have decided that I am very much under-read (if that is not a word, then I just made it up). So I have put together a rather extensive reading list that I plan to accomplish in my life time. In fact, I plan to be somewhat well-read by the time I get back to America. Thus, B&B days are necessary.

If you keep up with our lives in Naples at all, then you know that right now all Italians are at the beach. What are we to do in this empty city? GO TO THE BEACH! Of course I don't go to the beach everyday. But I do justify that Monday B&B days are necessary for me to change my skin color and fit in with the rest of Italians. It's working too. I am a nice shade of chocolate according to Alessia Worthy.

So what did I read yesterday?

I finished the Jungle Books, read Romeo and Juliet, and started the Adventures of Huck Finn.

Good day.

a woman who gets me

A recent conversation.

Me : "Shannon, it's weird how you just get me."

Shannon : "Yea. In what way?"

Me : "Well you know, I say things for no reason, and people take me seriously. But you, nope, you go along with it."

(note : I believe empty chatter is unbiblical. Perhaps I should rethink my speech.)

Shannon : "Lol, yea probably. It's because I'm cool. But what are you talking about?"

Me : (while pushing the stroller) "For example..... Hey Shannon, what if I ram this stroller into this car right here?"

Shannon : "Oh, do it, do it."

Me : "My point exactly. You just go with it."

Shannon : "Well what do most people say?"

Me : "They look at me weird, which is normal and happens often anyway, and then say something like 'well why would you do that' or 'that's not very funny'."

Shannon : "Oh I see."

Me : "But you, you get me. You know I'm not really serious. It's all hypothetical."

Shannon : "Yea. And I'm just cool, so, you know."

:)

Later in the car.....

Me : "Hey Shannon, what if when I have kids, I tell them it's their imagination every time they think they have hurt themselves."

Shannon : "Haha. Do it."

Me : "I will. Then when they are old and maybe cut their foot off they'll say, 'Nah don't worry about it, it's just my imagination."

Shannon : "Exactly. So you should try it."

I don't have to explain this post. If you don't get it, then it means two things. 1) Obviously you aren't cool like Shannon. 2) You probably don't get me. But it's ok because I'm used to it.

My week so far

It started with a nice day trip to the mountains.

I played with my camera.

See

Morning trip to the beach and afternoon in my favorite reading spot.

Morning trip out to where people have yards.

Registration for seminary classes.

Walk to the port to see a big boat.

Failed attempt to Skype the youth.

I am good writer aren't I?

Pictures speak for themselves

Read books

Spurgeon's thoughts on Naples

Today after hearing a few C.H. Spurgeon quotes while listening to a sermon, I decided to look into his writings and maybe do a little reading. If you know anything about him, then I'm sure you know there was a ton of things to choose from. I decided to read through the letters that he wrote to his wife while he was traveling without her in Italy. I discovered that his travels took him through Naples and all that surrounds it. I also discovered that not much has changed about Naples since the time of Spurgeon. In my opinion (so very Italian of me to use this phrase), Spurgeon's description of Naples in the 1860's accurately describes Naples today; give or take a few technological advances. So I have decided to let Spurgeon share his opinion of my city with you.

"THIS MORNING, we drove through Naples for, I should think, six or seven miles or more. It is a crowded city, full of stirs, full of business, and full of pleasure. Horses seem innumerable, they are decorated profusely, and the carriages are very comfortable; but, I am sorry to say, the men drive furiously, and make me very nervous. Old women are numerous and hideous, beggars pestiferous, and dealers intensely persevering. But what a bay! What a sea and climate! No one ought to be ill here."

"Our hotel here is vast and empty; we have excellent rooms, and are thoroughly comfortable. There is music continually, and very fair music, too, though not so sweet as silence. Everybody makes all the noise possible, and quiet dwells beyond the sea. Rome is a sepulcher, this city teems with life. You are not out of the door a moment before you are entreated to have a carriage, buy fruit, fish, pictures, papers, or something. The side-streets swarm with people, who appear to live in them; there they eat, cook, work, catch fleas;, hunt over each other's heads like so many monkeys, etc., etc. It is like living in a museum; but as to the beauty and gracefulness of which we read so much, I cannot detect it, though really looking for it. Persons over forty look worn out, and females at that age are haggard; over that period, they are. ghastly and mummified. Macaroni hangs out, in some quarters, before the doors on lines to dry; and the flies, which are numerous upon it, give it anything but an attractive appearance."

And there you have it. For those of you who dwell in this city... need we say anymore?