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Showing posts from January, 2011

Surrender

We finally watched "The Soloist" this week.  I seriously thought Jamie Foxx's character would be an amazing cellist, down on his luck, homeless, and then "discovered" and playing professionally in no time.  Happy ending, right?  I was so frustrated at the end of this movie!  I wanted a happy ending for him--for all of us.  But as Rob pointed out to me a couple of days later, "happy endings" aren't necessarily what we should be seeking in life.  We have had several hard events in our church in the last couple of weeks--and the last couple of years.  But this last week we have been praying for a few friends who are in the hospital--some with dire circumstances.  For one of them, a good friend of ours, I told Rob to read Psalm 40 when he goes to visit, "I waited patiently for the LORD; he turned to me and heard my cry. He lifted me out of the slimy pit, out of the mud and mire; he set my feet on a rock and gave me a firm place to stand. He pu

Idols (A piece of my journey)

I met a lovely German woman while playing pool at a party one night.  Visiting her dear friend, my voice teacher, she was enjoying an extended stay in the states before returning to her home in Pullach, a Munich suburb.  At 70 years' young, she stayed up with me half the night speaking in broken English and playing games.  Sometime before dawn, she tells me that if I ever want to come to Germany I am welcome to stay with her. At the time, I thought that would be so fun!  I coveted the freedom to travel and explore the world.  But alas, my commitments held me in Nashville for the time being.  However, not even 2 years later, everything, seemingly, in my life had ended--I didn't have a job and felt like I didn't have a friend in the world.  I was a caged animal ready to escape and find a new home.  So I wrote to her and asked if her offer still stood.  She told me she didn't need any house help, as she had just hired a maid from Portugal, but I could come and pay her ren

Perfection

My son gets hurt and immediately gets angry, not wanting any comfort from me.  If he can't make the Legos stick together as planned or accidentally drops his newly made bristle block rocket and the pieces scatter, he cries in frustration.  If he is exasperated with Mommy making him practice his violin piece again , he is quick to abandon all effort.  Why is he so quick to roar his rage or cease trying?  He is coveting perfection.  He has an entitlement to all circumstances benefiting him.  He, like all of us humans, has happily ever after in his heart. I recently watched Eat, Pray and Love , a story about Elizabeth Gilbert who goes on a quest for true happiness and contentment.  What I really enjoyed about this movie, other than reminiscing about my solo trip with a one way ticket to self-discovery a mere 15 years ago, was her astute awareness of each moment.  All her senses were heightened as she navigated her way through unfamiliar alleys, restaurants, languages, taxi rides, co

Divine Roadblocks

Hannah Hurnard's allegory Hinds Feet on High Places, tells of the journey of Much Afraid from the Valley of Humiliation to the High Places.  One would think this is just a straight shot up the mountain to the high places, but as it turns out, she doesn't have the proper "feet" to climb the crags and cliffs.  It is along the varied path, with all its twists and turns, ups and downs, that her two companions, Sorrow and Suffering, lead her and she develops her hinds' feet on which to leap through the High Places. Much Afraid's journey takes her through the Desert, to the Shores of Loneliness, into the Forest of Danger and Tribulation and through the Mist.  And then, instead of ascending toward the High Places, Sorrow and Suffering lead her down into the Valley of Loss.  It is there she almost abandons the Chief Shepherd's path for her own path.  Faced with the decision to abandon His love, she becomes more terrified thinking of being without His love, than c

Female Affections

Before meeting Rob I wanted nothing more than fulfill my desire to perform professionally 100% of the time.  I began accruing Equity points toward my union AEA card and setting my affections on that dream.  My daddy said I could do it, and I believed him.   And, even deeper than that, my heart's desire was always consecrated to the performing arts.  It consumed my every creative play time as a child and every cell in my brain as an adult.  Yet, my circumstances toward this goal were constantly thwarted. Countless conflicts, including other work or family-related issues, disallowed my involvement in many productions and artistic projects that came my way.  What I didn't know was that God was using all these circumstances to steer my affections (my heart) another direction.... Being a woman is so confusing!  We women have been given talents, desires, drives, and are given every opportunity to accomplish the same skills as men.  Even our Christian parents prepped us for succes

Covenant is Messy

In preparation to block the scene in Godspell when the last supper is loosely reenacted, I explained to my actors what a covenant is.  I told them the story of God making a covenant with Abraham:  Abraham was instructed by God to kill a heifer, a goat and a ram, cut them in two and also some doves.  Abraham cut them in half, and placed them opposite each other, and then (I love this verse), Gen. 15:12, "As the sun was setting, Abraham fell into a deep sleep, and a thick and dreadful darkness came over him."  The Bible goes on to explain that in his sleep God spoke to him and then God "walked" between the carcasses in the form of fire.  This signifies that the bloody covenant was fulfilled by God; and God alone. Usually a covenant is a binding agreement between two people and which ever person breaks it, dies.  But what is interesting here, is that God is the sole maker of this covenant--He made it with Himself, essentially, and regardless of who breaks it--Abraha

Wimpy, Wimpy, Wimpy

My orphaned grandfather, birthed a by music teacher who had an affair with a traveling salesman in Los Angeles, was fostered in the Roaring 20s by two spinster sisters, Roxy and Alice.  Roxy eventually adopted him and he proved very beneficial with helping with the other foster children, playing with them and working hard to help the household function.  A child of the depression and eventually serving in World War II, he endured many hardships from conception.  He met his best friend at the Vermont Avenue Presbyterian Church in downtown Los Angeles, where he attended with Roxy and Alice, and grew very close to his friend's family, culminating in marrying his best friend's sister, my grandmother.  After being separated from his bride during the war while stationed in Bremerton, WA, they birthed two children, my mother and uncle.  When my uncle was only 16 months old, my grandmother contracted Polio and was the 2nd person in California to die of Polio just two months later. Gr

My Daddy Said This Day Would Come

I caught myself laughing out loud today when it dawned on me....my four-year-old has hit the " Why? " phase.  For the last few days the hairs on my neck started getting prickly whenever I heard Brennan's voice because I haven't had a moment's thought to myself.  "Mom...."  "Mom...."  And then comes, "Son, time to..."  "Why, Mom?"  "Son, please...."  "But, Mom, why?" Dealing with a constant onslaught of his verbal stream-of-conscientiousness and his consistent opposition to my requests, zapped all the joy in parenting out of me.  That's when I heard my father's voice recounting the days that I, his first-born, hit the " How come? " phase.  Daddy said this day would come.  He said all children around four begin questioning everything--their questions begin with "Why?" and end with "But, why....?"  Although, he said I didn't go through the " Why? " phase;

3 a.m. Epiphany

Parenting a child with the stomach flu in the middle of the night is not what I had in mind when planning for our Christmas holiday in California last month.  When Soren (2 years' old) showed signs of the virus in the middle of the night, Rob was still in Florida, but the grandmas were stellar in helping me the three times he threw up.  After Rob arrived in California to a sleep deprived wife and sick kid, we parented together and it took three days for the symptoms to subside.   About 5 days after the first one got it, we were enjoying our annual reading of Dickens' Christmas Carol when the second one, Brennan (4 years' old), spilled his dinner all over the beautifully illustrated book.  All in all, this virus took up nine days of our 14 day trip. At 3 a.m. on one of the nights, perhaps the fifth, I had a great feeling of compassion for my husband--or should I say it started as pity for me, but compassion on some level for my husband's job of husbandry.   The di