I wish answers to doubters didn't sound so much like trying to sneak your way out actually answering a question.
I just finished The Problem of Pain by CS Lewis and rather loved it. I honestly only got it because it was on the shelf I was looking at as I was book shopping on tour. I mean, I read CS Lewis because he says things that make my heart smile and I figured a little smiling would be good exercise for it. I would recommend the book for people who haven't really thought about the problem caused by the idea that if God is love and all powerful, why does anyone suffer? Honestly, so many answers to that question, all of them involving that wonderful term of free will, have been put forth that I don't think anybody needs to think about it anymore. I recommend it the book in general, though. He has wonderful things to say about impossibility and he even talked about animals for a bit, which cleared up a couple of questions. Just as a PS, I'm beyond the point in time where I believe everything I read just because someone older and smarter than me said it. It's wonderful to be able to sit back and say, 'I'm not sure that I like that idea,' and not feel guilty that I'm questioning someone else's explanation.
I finished all but the last chapter yesterday- summer evenings in Chapel Hill are gorgeous, tell me you- and I saw that the last chapter was entitled Heaven and thought it had to be fluff reading and I'd leave it as something to finish quickly before I dove back into Last of the Mohicans (for those who are concerned that I have way too much free time on my hands, I applied to two places today for a part time job. Get off my case). I meander back outside and enjoy the sensation of my feet thawing and I settle down and I read.
Have you ever felt guilty because you were too happy? Kinda like Jane in Pride and Prejudice, when I put down my book to think for a second about whatever had just made me smile most recently, I looked around beaming at the people running, biking, walking by down Pittsboro Street and was a little saddened that they did not look as happy as I. Now, you can talk about heaven in any way that you want. If you believe that the Kingdom of God comes when we learn to love our neighbor more than ourselves and when we care for the least of these just as we would care for Christ or if you believe that there is about a hundred million little tiny angels about ye by ye and they all take shorthand or even if you don't believe in heaven at all, I'm cool with that. Jesus talks a sight more about heaven than he does about hell and I believe we should listen to what he says there, but there's only so much you can know about it. What I think is great is that heaven doesn't have to be a reward. I mean, you don't have to sit down and say I'm doing these great things because I'm going to heaven one day. You don't have to sit down and say that this life is a test either, to see who's faithful enough to get in. The metaphor used is a key and a lock. Your soul is like a key, one made and formed through your life to fit one specific door in our Father's house. You are made for heaven. Every human was. There is an aspect of God that you see best and that you were intended to best to worship. He is, after all, an elephant to blind men and He is infinite. And even though I fail at this surrender of will thing that seems to be in the process of being pounded into my head (daily, I might add), I have a lifetime to learn, to be shaped for that one task that will take up my eternity. It's not a trial. It's not a test. It's a process and I don't want to leave before I'm ready. And, beyond me, there is this sharing of the Gospel to the nations that the Lord seems to mention once or twice and He is wonderfully capable of working through anyone, no matter how ready they are for the rest of their life.
Anyway, none of this is what made me smile best, though I'm sure you'd all be much happier if I had just talked about this fifteen to twenty sentences ago. What made me smile is the way our calling is described. Joy and rapture, I'm not talking about our individual call to ministry or anything as doctrinal as that. Maybe it's because I grew up reading stories about dragons and elves and adventure that the more fantastic of imagery resonates with me, but I adore this idea. Think about your favorite books, your favorite things to do, your favorite movies. To you, there is something distinct about them that makes them your favorite. Something that really meant something to you- if you're not one to be taken away by the glories of nature, think about, oh I dunno, your favorite spot in your house or school, or a conversation with a best friend. I'm being indefinite for a reason- that thing that makes a summer evening in Chapel Hill listening to the bell tower chime and watching the wind play games in the trees perfect for me is the same thing that makes your favorite place perfect for you. Except different. It's heaven calling us. Through kids laughing (have you ever run a race with a kid, just to remember how it feels?), though summer breezes, through music, through life, God drops in little hints and reminders so that when we look back through our memory, we see heaven highlighted with a little happy light and we know what we're called to, what we're made for. And I think that's gorgeous.
No, indeed, there is such a thing as too much heaven on your mind and these little happy memories seem so middle class American. I know there is pain in the world and I know that there are people who may not have a little happy glowing memory trail to look back on when they reach the end of their days. Or maybe they do, it's just not as long as it should be, as any human deserves for it to be. And whose fault is that?
I'll cherish my evening, not because it lulls me into peaceable happiness with a redeemable creation (though I think I might love that better, if it were true) but because it reminds me of how much I have- blessings and work.
Monday, June 29, 2009
Saturday, June 27, 2009
At the End of a Long and Heartfelt Letter to a Boy
... And the worst thing is, at the end of a long, perfectly happy day, I still think of you and wish that you were here, or here and loving me, or even far away and loving me. But I know that none of these are possible and I should stop indulging in the distraction that is caring for you more than I ever should have. I was just letting you know how I (still) feel.
With much broken love,
Addie Jo
With much broken love,
Addie Jo
Thursday, June 25, 2009
Passion
Please don't tell me I'm wrong and please don't tell me I'm crazy and please don't tell me I don't understand. Just wanted to throw that out there before you think all those things at or near the same time.
I kinda lied about the last devotional time on tour. I got a bit more than my two cents' worth. If you would have been me lately, you would have been mightily confused about your place with God (the Father)/Jesus/ Holy Spirit. You would have struggled with the phrase 'undue familiarity' and how that works with the concept of a God so personal He knows what you're going to say before you say it. You also would have felt like a complete loser around the Lord, the queen of unworthiness and only occasionally able to raise your head in worship, even though you know it doesn't make a difference. You would feel the separation that your thoughts were/are causing and would be at a loss to understand why God hasn't removed this obvious thorn in your metaphorical side. And if you were me, after you put Hannah in front of the conversation you dearly longed to have with your Lord, got her cell phone and sat back down in the very back of the sanctuary, you would have put your head down on the pew in front of you and thought back to a few minutes before, when you were crazy afraid to even look at your mind's image of Jesus, let alone the real thing.
Because when Amber-Drew told us to imagine the most beautiful thing in the world in front of us alone on an empty stage, I knew what was coming. My mind stayed around long enough to see the light emerging from the mist and then it looked down to examine my feet, which, I'm happy to say, were wonderfully free of shoes. And AD kept talking and I kept looking down because I knew the light was coming closer and I knew I wasn't worth standing here in front of Him. Can light smile comfortingly? I think it tried and in the split second before we changed stages I looked up in my mind unwillingly and got a smile. I jerked my real head up and ripped open my eyes because I knew that smile was much more than I deserved and I left the stage because I was afraid. I came back for the group of normal people and I hope no one looked at my face because it was much too confusing to make sense even to me.
So here I am now back on the last pew, the tax collector that's posing to the world as a Pharisee. My head's down, so I'm free to say have mercy on me, sinner that I am, but that's not really what comes out. What comes out is all the invented poison that's been rolling around in my head, taking things too literally or ignoring the Truth I've known, all the accusations and reasons why I could never approach the throne. And I'm all astonishment as my mind goes back to the stage and the smile- Why me? Why me? Why not someone better, more faithful, more able, more willing? Why me? Why do I have to stare at my feet? Why not someone who will run to You? And, somewhere along the way, Why can't I be that someone?
I'm sure the doubts and the questions aren't what gets you- if you know me, you know that insecurity seems to be something that I revel in revealing to others, like I want you to see just how weak I am so I can hear you say that I'm strong. But here I am, I'm still sitting with my head on my arms on the back of the pew in front of me and when I open my eyes, I'm staring at the floor. Why aren't You here? My eyes are shut tight. Now it's almost like someone's sitting beside me, in the bit of space in between me and the aisle end of the pew, almost like someone's got an arm around me. And the in-my-head-influenced-by-who-knows-what Jesus voice that I hear sometimes when I pray says, Why wouldn't I be here?
I open my eyes and look over beside me and of course it's an empty pew. But goodness, what I wouldn't have given to have had Jesus right beside me. I stifle a laugh as I look around because I'm in a church that is so obviously filled with the Holy Spirit it's almost tangible and I just blindly asked the Lord why He wasn't there.
Now, you can say that's all in my mind, and I'm cool with that. My mind clearly has links to the scaredy-cat aspect of me the same way it has links to the comforting images part of me. I could have made it all up because it was what I needed then. I needed Jesus back, just for a second, because He's been so hard to find in all the me that's been floating around. But I'll just disagree with you on that because I don't want a God that limits Himself to what my mind can make up and what my words can describe, because He would be truly limited then indeed. Snap, I want a God who can make me breathless, who will take me deeper and who will let me know that the moments that I spent right beside Him are the best moments in this world and that I am promised an eternity more of them.
My question now: Will I ever go back to that simple, happy love? Am I forever changed, forever a doubter? Because I heard Everything on Pandora today and if ever a song could make me want to rip out my soul and sew it back in with a legit passion for Christ, that is the song. I want that passion, I want the Church to be filled with that passion, that force that made Paul such a strong proponent of the Gospel, that life-breath that brings fruit out of broken human hands. I want that passion to save the world and I want people to see Jesus of Nazareth for the Savior He is, for the Christ He is and I want redemption to come to this entire planet, through the hands of us who know what it is. I want passion, I want life, I want unshakable joy. I want God. And I want Him for you, too.
I kinda lied about the last devotional time on tour. I got a bit more than my two cents' worth. If you would have been me lately, you would have been mightily confused about your place with God (the Father)/Jesus/ Holy Spirit. You would have struggled with the phrase 'undue familiarity' and how that works with the concept of a God so personal He knows what you're going to say before you say it. You also would have felt like a complete loser around the Lord, the queen of unworthiness and only occasionally able to raise your head in worship, even though you know it doesn't make a difference. You would feel the separation that your thoughts were/are causing and would be at a loss to understand why God hasn't removed this obvious thorn in your metaphorical side. And if you were me, after you put Hannah in front of the conversation you dearly longed to have with your Lord, got her cell phone and sat back down in the very back of the sanctuary, you would have put your head down on the pew in front of you and thought back to a few minutes before, when you were crazy afraid to even look at your mind's image of Jesus, let alone the real thing.
Because when Amber-Drew told us to imagine the most beautiful thing in the world in front of us alone on an empty stage, I knew what was coming. My mind stayed around long enough to see the light emerging from the mist and then it looked down to examine my feet, which, I'm happy to say, were wonderfully free of shoes. And AD kept talking and I kept looking down because I knew the light was coming closer and I knew I wasn't worth standing here in front of Him. Can light smile comfortingly? I think it tried and in the split second before we changed stages I looked up in my mind unwillingly and got a smile. I jerked my real head up and ripped open my eyes because I knew that smile was much more than I deserved and I left the stage because I was afraid. I came back for the group of normal people and I hope no one looked at my face because it was much too confusing to make sense even to me.
So here I am now back on the last pew, the tax collector that's posing to the world as a Pharisee. My head's down, so I'm free to say have mercy on me, sinner that I am, but that's not really what comes out. What comes out is all the invented poison that's been rolling around in my head, taking things too literally or ignoring the Truth I've known, all the accusations and reasons why I could never approach the throne. And I'm all astonishment as my mind goes back to the stage and the smile- Why me? Why me? Why not someone better, more faithful, more able, more willing? Why me? Why do I have to stare at my feet? Why not someone who will run to You? And, somewhere along the way, Why can't I be that someone?
I'm sure the doubts and the questions aren't what gets you- if you know me, you know that insecurity seems to be something that I revel in revealing to others, like I want you to see just how weak I am so I can hear you say that I'm strong. But here I am, I'm still sitting with my head on my arms on the back of the pew in front of me and when I open my eyes, I'm staring at the floor. Why aren't You here? My eyes are shut tight. Now it's almost like someone's sitting beside me, in the bit of space in between me and the aisle end of the pew, almost like someone's got an arm around me. And the in-my-head-influenced-by-who-knows-what Jesus voice that I hear sometimes when I pray says, Why wouldn't I be here?
I open my eyes and look over beside me and of course it's an empty pew. But goodness, what I wouldn't have given to have had Jesus right beside me. I stifle a laugh as I look around because I'm in a church that is so obviously filled with the Holy Spirit it's almost tangible and I just blindly asked the Lord why He wasn't there.
Now, you can say that's all in my mind, and I'm cool with that. My mind clearly has links to the scaredy-cat aspect of me the same way it has links to the comforting images part of me. I could have made it all up because it was what I needed then. I needed Jesus back, just for a second, because He's been so hard to find in all the me that's been floating around. But I'll just disagree with you on that because I don't want a God that limits Himself to what my mind can make up and what my words can describe, because He would be truly limited then indeed. Snap, I want a God who can make me breathless, who will take me deeper and who will let me know that the moments that I spent right beside Him are the best moments in this world and that I am promised an eternity more of them.
My question now: Will I ever go back to that simple, happy love? Am I forever changed, forever a doubter? Because I heard Everything on Pandora today and if ever a song could make me want to rip out my soul and sew it back in with a legit passion for Christ, that is the song. I want that passion, I want the Church to be filled with that passion, that force that made Paul such a strong proponent of the Gospel, that life-breath that brings fruit out of broken human hands. I want that passion to save the world and I want people to see Jesus of Nazareth for the Savior He is, for the Christ He is and I want redemption to come to this entire planet, through the hands of us who know what it is. I want passion, I want life, I want unshakable joy. I want God. And I want Him for you, too.
Wednesday, June 24, 2009
A Constellation (An Apparent Grouping of Stars)
I've been thinking that the night's over, but I'm not entirely sure that that's right... though I've never know anyone that was suspicious of the dawn. Maybe the night and day analogies are crap, too.
If I ever wanted a confirmation of where I'm supposed to be, I think God's handed them out pretty liberally this week. I wasn't sure that I was supposed to go on tour but after hearing back from some people, I feel a lot better about it. I love the way the week summed up my life. I really just needed to hear the promise again that God's going to work it all out, that everything really is going to be all right and that a season of joy is coming again and He took one concert to shout it back to me and I heard. And it was lovely.
If you've even spent five minutes with me talking about my summer plans, I've probably mentioned that I'm excited to be in Chapel Hill for the summer. If you've talked to me for ten minutes, I've probably mentioned that I'm not sure that being in Chapel Hill is the right thing for me. I get suspicious of easily opening doors. But, with the help of glow-in-the-dark stars, a camper who looked at my necklace and said, "You're a crissian.... a christ-an.... a... a Christian!" and good conversation in one of my favorite places to have a conversation, I'm starting to believe that I'm not so wrong after all.
I don't know how many of you hopeless romantics out there ever have this problem, but I'm not over someone when I think I am. It took all of ten seconds and one of the other counselors acting just a bit like someone I'm sure I loved to make me realize that I haven't left him behind as much as I'd like to have. It's kinda like that with the Lord, too. I think if I ever really left Him, it would only take a moment of kindness from someone to make me see that I never left Him in the first place. Or, at least, He never left me. And this makes me smile.
I just don't want to forget, you know? People don't stop being hungry because I'm happy. Even though I'm much more able to pray, there's still pain in the world. I don't want to fade into contentment and forget all the work He has done while I've been struggling. I don't want to be happy with my lot and forget that I can do so much more to help others, forget that I am called to help others, regardless of the other plans in store for me. I want to use this time before I find my way off the path again to find out more about this Man who saved me instead of wasting it because I don't need the growing right now. I know this is basic. I know it's something we've all heard before. But maybe pastors keep on saying it and God keeps on insisting on it because we don't get it. Maybe just because I don't get it.
Because He does things like that.
If I ever wanted a confirmation of where I'm supposed to be, I think God's handed them out pretty liberally this week. I wasn't sure that I was supposed to go on tour but after hearing back from some people, I feel a lot better about it. I love the way the week summed up my life. I really just needed to hear the promise again that God's going to work it all out, that everything really is going to be all right and that a season of joy is coming again and He took one concert to shout it back to me and I heard. And it was lovely.
If you've even spent five minutes with me talking about my summer plans, I've probably mentioned that I'm excited to be in Chapel Hill for the summer. If you've talked to me for ten minutes, I've probably mentioned that I'm not sure that being in Chapel Hill is the right thing for me. I get suspicious of easily opening doors. But, with the help of glow-in-the-dark stars, a camper who looked at my necklace and said, "You're a crissian.... a christ-an.... a... a Christian!" and good conversation in one of my favorite places to have a conversation, I'm starting to believe that I'm not so wrong after all.
I don't know how many of you hopeless romantics out there ever have this problem, but I'm not over someone when I think I am. It took all of ten seconds and one of the other counselors acting just a bit like someone I'm sure I loved to make me realize that I haven't left him behind as much as I'd like to have. It's kinda like that with the Lord, too. I think if I ever really left Him, it would only take a moment of kindness from someone to make me see that I never left Him in the first place. Or, at least, He never left me. And this makes me smile.
I just don't want to forget, you know? People don't stop being hungry because I'm happy. Even though I'm much more able to pray, there's still pain in the world. I don't want to fade into contentment and forget all the work He has done while I've been struggling. I don't want to be happy with my lot and forget that I can do so much more to help others, forget that I am called to help others, regardless of the other plans in store for me. I want to use this time before I find my way off the path again to find out more about this Man who saved me instead of wasting it because I don't need the growing right now. I know this is basic. I know it's something we've all heard before. But maybe pastors keep on saying it and God keeps on insisting on it because we don't get it. Maybe just because I don't get it.
Because He does things like that.
Thursday, June 18, 2009
Tour Day 5: Yonder Come Day
It rained. It's rained water, drama and grace here since my last post, in pretty much that order. I think the water and the drama overlapped a bit, but the grace poured after it started.
Hershey Park was great. It really promised to rain but apart from a from a few showers it was a nicely overcast day so short lines and a lack of sunburn. I rather think everyone enjoyed themselves, including the time spent in the Hershey World of Chocolate before we headed out to the church.
Tonight, we sang at First United Methodist Church in Palmyra, Pennsylvania. The people were wonderful, very welcoming and had great taste in pizza. We ate dinner and the Praise Band got their stuff ready. Some people took naps because a lot of us were exhausted from a morning of way too much screaming and a bit too much walking. Ron called us into the sanctuary across the way and we had the single best devotion before a concert that I have ever been in. Ron sang, Amber-Drew sang, Jeremiah was read and Ron spoke. Before dinner, Amber-Drew taught us a song:
Yonder come day, Day is breakin'.
Yonder come day, oh my soul.
Yonder come day, Day is breakin'.
Sun is a-risin' in my soul.
She had us visualize standing on a stage looking at the most beautiful thing we could imagine- a beatific vision for high schoolers. Then she had us imagine just another crowd of people and she described the difference between the expressions on our faces for each one. We smiled for Jesus but we looked bored to death with the crowd of people. It was a bit of a wake-up call and I have a story about this, but that's not the point. After that, Ron had us split off and give fifteen minutes to God. It was beautiful. I'm sure some people just slept and I'm sure one or two thought it was useless, but I thought it was gorgeous. Most everyone laid down and after I said my two cents' worth (because I knew a longer conversation would take place later and I wasn't sure how to say what I wanted to say with this group), I looked around.
This is the best part. Ron started singing 'Come and fill our hearts with Your peace' and it was like watching the sleepers rise. Slowly, everyone sat up and looked around and it was beautiful. When I'm more awake, I'll describe it later.
We had a wonderful, wonderful concert and I'm so glad that everyone, especially the people who haven't been on a tour before, got to experience that. That concert, my friends, is what Crossflame is about. It was glorious in every sense of the word. We sang well, the Praise Band was great, Marshall and a small group pulled out a superb skit. It was just... everything I wanted this tour to be. We socialized afterwards and we had a massive sing-a-long back on the bus and exhausted ourselves with fellowship when we got back to the college. I always was confused- after a concert, I'm exhausted. There was a point after this one where I just sat down and stared because I was ready to shut down but being around people you just realized were amazing kinda revitalizes you.
So I'm definitely ready for a chin-tap free bus ride back tomorrow, all nine hours of it. Expect Crossflame to descend upon the city of Hickory, North Carolina around 6 tomorrow evening.
As a PS to a week of tour, I want you to know that I am too tired to really describe the awesomeness that was tonight. Maybe you can't know what it was if you weren't here. But it was an evening, a concert that I think any member of Crossflame ever would have been proud of. God counts in that too.
Hershey Park was great. It really promised to rain but apart from a from a few showers it was a nicely overcast day so short lines and a lack of sunburn. I rather think everyone enjoyed themselves, including the time spent in the Hershey World of Chocolate before we headed out to the church.
Tonight, we sang at First United Methodist Church in Palmyra, Pennsylvania. The people were wonderful, very welcoming and had great taste in pizza. We ate dinner and the Praise Band got their stuff ready. Some people took naps because a lot of us were exhausted from a morning of way too much screaming and a bit too much walking. Ron called us into the sanctuary across the way and we had the single best devotion before a concert that I have ever been in. Ron sang, Amber-Drew sang, Jeremiah was read and Ron spoke. Before dinner, Amber-Drew taught us a song:
Yonder come day, Day is breakin'.
Yonder come day, oh my soul.
Yonder come day, Day is breakin'.
Sun is a-risin' in my soul.
She had us visualize standing on a stage looking at the most beautiful thing we could imagine- a beatific vision for high schoolers. Then she had us imagine just another crowd of people and she described the difference between the expressions on our faces for each one. We smiled for Jesus but we looked bored to death with the crowd of people. It was a bit of a wake-up call and I have a story about this, but that's not the point. After that, Ron had us split off and give fifteen minutes to God. It was beautiful. I'm sure some people just slept and I'm sure one or two thought it was useless, but I thought it was gorgeous. Most everyone laid down and after I said my two cents' worth (because I knew a longer conversation would take place later and I wasn't sure how to say what I wanted to say with this group), I looked around.
This is the best part. Ron started singing 'Come and fill our hearts with Your peace' and it was like watching the sleepers rise. Slowly, everyone sat up and looked around and it was beautiful. When I'm more awake, I'll describe it later.
We had a wonderful, wonderful concert and I'm so glad that everyone, especially the people who haven't been on a tour before, got to experience that. That concert, my friends, is what Crossflame is about. It was glorious in every sense of the word. We sang well, the Praise Band was great, Marshall and a small group pulled out a superb skit. It was just... everything I wanted this tour to be. We socialized afterwards and we had a massive sing-a-long back on the bus and exhausted ourselves with fellowship when we got back to the college. I always was confused- after a concert, I'm exhausted. There was a point after this one where I just sat down and stared because I was ready to shut down but being around people you just realized were amazing kinda revitalizes you.
So I'm definitely ready for a chin-tap free bus ride back tomorrow, all nine hours of it. Expect Crossflame to descend upon the city of Hickory, North Carolina around 6 tomorrow evening.
As a PS to a week of tour, I want you to know that I am too tired to really describe the awesomeness that was tonight. Maybe you can't know what it was if you weren't here. But it was an evening, a concert that I think any member of Crossflame ever would have been proud of. God counts in that too.
Wednesday, June 17, 2009
Tour Day 4 Part 2: Beautiful Jesus
It rained. We had a rehearsal and learned some alto parts for the band songs then ate dinner at the college (I had Ron time, since I missed out this morning). We ran out to the bus and Doug drove the bus down a tiny tiny lane with a ton of tiny tiny cottages. We ran through the rain to the amphitheater, where we found that we would be cold and unplugged. There was no keyboard and no way the entire band's sound system was getting carted from the bus in the rain.
Despite these worrying circumstances, the concert went pretty well. There wasn't too much whining about the cold or the rain and despite being a capella, we sounded decent. The only information I could get about our performance was the congregation's (not that big, though) reaction and they seemed to like it. There wasn't a bored face and everyone looked pleased, from what I saw behind the taller people in front of me. Each of the instruments got to do a solo- Eli played a super awesome, but super long, song. I played Handel Allegro, with several flubs because I haven't played it all the way through since my senior concert. Hannah played a minuet, Tyler played some awesome cello song that I didn't know and the quartet played for the offering as usual. All in all, not the experience I wanted, but it doesn't much matter to me right now. I think there's only so much emotion the brain takes in in a day.
Everyone's enjoying the free time before bed now, with an excessive amount of chin-taps and laughter. Amber-Drew had the awesome idea of binding the girls together by giving us these bracelets. They're thin slices of handkerchiefs twisted and tied around your wrist. You wear it until it falls off and every day, you say a prayer for the person who tied it on you- the great thing, there's no way you could twist it and tie it yourself. Well, OK, maybe, but it's a lot easier to have a partner. I'm kinda excited about this.
So, really, this is a good end to a crazy day. Hershey Park tomorrow, if it doesn't storm, and our last concert. Please keep the prayers up. Today has proved that though we are one body, we feel many things differently. Something that affects one group intensely may not seem so big to another. Pray for our safety and our patience but also pray for our unity. Maybe the same thing goes for the body of Christ universal.
Despite these worrying circumstances, the concert went pretty well. There wasn't too much whining about the cold or the rain and despite being a capella, we sounded decent. The only information I could get about our performance was the congregation's (not that big, though) reaction and they seemed to like it. There wasn't a bored face and everyone looked pleased, from what I saw behind the taller people in front of me. Each of the instruments got to do a solo- Eli played a super awesome, but super long, song. I played Handel Allegro, with several flubs because I haven't played it all the way through since my senior concert. Hannah played a minuet, Tyler played some awesome cello song that I didn't know and the quartet played for the offering as usual. All in all, not the experience I wanted, but it doesn't much matter to me right now. I think there's only so much emotion the brain takes in in a day.
Everyone's enjoying the free time before bed now, with an excessive amount of chin-taps and laughter. Amber-Drew had the awesome idea of binding the girls together by giving us these bracelets. They're thin slices of handkerchiefs twisted and tied around your wrist. You wear it until it falls off and every day, you say a prayer for the person who tied it on you- the great thing, there's no way you could twist it and tie it yourself. Well, OK, maybe, but it's a lot easier to have a partner. I'm kinda excited about this.
So, really, this is a good end to a crazy day. Hershey Park tomorrow, if it doesn't storm, and our last concert. Please keep the prayers up. Today has proved that though we are one body, we feel many things differently. Something that affects one group intensely may not seem so big to another. Pray for our safety and our patience but also pray for our unity. Maybe the same thing goes for the body of Christ universal.
Tour Day 4 Part 1: Kyrie
It's raining. I have no clue what the group is doing because I stayed back at the college with a sick stomach (probably due more to cousin Tom than anything else) and a sick attitude. I figured it was better to rest up to be useful in the afternoon than to spend my morning in Intercourse, PA, looking at the Pretzel Factory and possibly Build-A-Bear. I'm kinda sad I didn't go now, but that takes a minute to explain. Sometimes, the mountain stays firm and will not come to Mohammad no matter how much he sighs and begs it to. Sometimes, Mohammad has to roll his eyes, pick up his bag and walk to the mountain. By the way, the bag was given to Mohammad by the mountain.
Sunday morning I walked into the office to get medical forms for those people (me and Jessie and Eli) who hadn't filled them out yet. I saw the CD from 2002 and knew Be Still and Know would be on there and since we hadn't sung it the way I remembered it yet, I figured I'd grab it and maybe play it for the choir if there was time before the second service. At the worst, it'd be played on tour some time, still being useful. I forgot about it after telling one kid to listen to it, but grabbed it out of the choir room before running around like crazy trying to help get the praise band loaded on the bus. It stayed in my luggage and I figured I'd done a good thing. There was no reason for me to have brought it- I knew all the songs on the CD by heart and I'd heard the whole program so many times, I might could have recited all the prayers for you. It obviously wasn't here for me- some kid would find it and realize how great Crossflame was and it would inspire the whole group. I know the power of one small thing, however insignificant and so I've been waiting for the chance to use it. With only two concerts left, though, I was starting to think it was a waste of space.
Well, I pretty much slept off the stomach ache, but not the bad attitude. To avoid the silence in my room which would have required actually talking to God, I put the CD in my computer- I liked hearing Faithful Over a Few Things so I figured I'd put it on my MP3 player. This is the prayer of confession off that CD:
Almighty God, I come to you because I am struggling inside. I dwell on past hurts and heartaches and refuse to let go and forgive. For that, forgive me. I spend so much time as a worrier, looking within, that I forget the promise of Your child, given to me. For that, I need forgiveness. I focus too many times on useless speculation of the unknown and fail to recall the promise of the Holy Spirit. Forgive me for not remembering that You live within and beside me forever. Amen.
That year, as the tour gift, they gave out stones that were your burdens before tour (I heard 'for tour' the first time I listened to someone telling the story). I love our wooden crosses but today, I'd like the stones. I'd like to take my burdens and put them in a stone and learn to let them go because they're keeping me from being the person I want to be. I'm not holding out for universal adoration- Jesus never even got that. Yet. But I want to be something more that what the people who have just met me see me as. I have a soul, kinda deep down, but it's there. I have a heart, it's just a bit walled on these trips so I don't drop it and break it so much. I'm not Jessie- I don't thrive around people. But today, I know that the time spent away from people has just been a barrier and it's my fault. God's a people Person and it's His Spirit that lives within me. After all, it's Christ who dwells within me and I'm supposed to have died and been raised to His life.
Now, this new-found goodness of heart might die within ten minutes of being back with the choir, but then I'll know that there's just more that I need to clean out for God to work properly. I'll see that it's me holding me back, not someone else's disrespect or apathy. It's like what Ghandi said: 'Be the change you wish to see in the world.' If I want kindness, I must be kind. If I want listeners, I too must be prepared to listen. But above all, I need to be willing to serve. God used this time alone to get me straight, but I'm sure He would have loved to bless someone else by having them help me. If I'm not willing to put me aside to help someone else, how can I expect anyone else to put themselves aside for even a minute to help each other, to help the life of the choir? I don't know that serving means keeping my mouth shut all the time but I know it means keeping my heart open. I got to figure out a way to make the two go hand in hand.
So thanks for reading. They'll be more later, I'm sure. Amber-Drew promised a blog post about our excursions in Philly, so if you know her blog, I'm sure she'll be on that soon. Pray for the choir tonight at our concert and for safe travels back and forth from the college. If you have a few prayer minutes to throw around to make your quota and want to holler at God about me, you're more than welcome. I'm sure there's better topics of conversation, but I didn't sing Somebody's Prayin' to sit back and think that it hasn't helped me when someone's been faithful to God about me. I might forget that, but I'll come back eventually.
I just gotta remember that it's never the end.
Sunday morning I walked into the office to get medical forms for those people (me and Jessie and Eli) who hadn't filled them out yet. I saw the CD from 2002 and knew Be Still and Know would be on there and since we hadn't sung it the way I remembered it yet, I figured I'd grab it and maybe play it for the choir if there was time before the second service. At the worst, it'd be played on tour some time, still being useful. I forgot about it after telling one kid to listen to it, but grabbed it out of the choir room before running around like crazy trying to help get the praise band loaded on the bus. It stayed in my luggage and I figured I'd done a good thing. There was no reason for me to have brought it- I knew all the songs on the CD by heart and I'd heard the whole program so many times, I might could have recited all the prayers for you. It obviously wasn't here for me- some kid would find it and realize how great Crossflame was and it would inspire the whole group. I know the power of one small thing, however insignificant and so I've been waiting for the chance to use it. With only two concerts left, though, I was starting to think it was a waste of space.
Well, I pretty much slept off the stomach ache, but not the bad attitude. To avoid the silence in my room which would have required actually talking to God, I put the CD in my computer- I liked hearing Faithful Over a Few Things so I figured I'd put it on my MP3 player. This is the prayer of confession off that CD:
Almighty God, I come to you because I am struggling inside. I dwell on past hurts and heartaches and refuse to let go and forgive. For that, forgive me. I spend so much time as a worrier, looking within, that I forget the promise of Your child, given to me. For that, I need forgiveness. I focus too many times on useless speculation of the unknown and fail to recall the promise of the Holy Spirit. Forgive me for not remembering that You live within and beside me forever. Amen.
That year, as the tour gift, they gave out stones that were your burdens before tour (I heard 'for tour' the first time I listened to someone telling the story). I love our wooden crosses but today, I'd like the stones. I'd like to take my burdens and put them in a stone and learn to let them go because they're keeping me from being the person I want to be. I'm not holding out for universal adoration- Jesus never even got that. Yet. But I want to be something more that what the people who have just met me see me as. I have a soul, kinda deep down, but it's there. I have a heart, it's just a bit walled on these trips so I don't drop it and break it so much. I'm not Jessie- I don't thrive around people. But today, I know that the time spent away from people has just been a barrier and it's my fault. God's a people Person and it's His Spirit that lives within me. After all, it's Christ who dwells within me and I'm supposed to have died and been raised to His life.
Now, this new-found goodness of heart might die within ten minutes of being back with the choir, but then I'll know that there's just more that I need to clean out for God to work properly. I'll see that it's me holding me back, not someone else's disrespect or apathy. It's like what Ghandi said: 'Be the change you wish to see in the world.' If I want kindness, I must be kind. If I want listeners, I too must be prepared to listen. But above all, I need to be willing to serve. God used this time alone to get me straight, but I'm sure He would have loved to bless someone else by having them help me. If I'm not willing to put me aside to help someone else, how can I expect anyone else to put themselves aside for even a minute to help each other, to help the life of the choir? I don't know that serving means keeping my mouth shut all the time but I know it means keeping my heart open. I got to figure out a way to make the two go hand in hand.
So thanks for reading. They'll be more later, I'm sure. Amber-Drew promised a blog post about our excursions in Philly, so if you know her blog, I'm sure she'll be on that soon. Pray for the choir tonight at our concert and for safe travels back and forth from the college. If you have a few prayer minutes to throw around to make your quota and want to holler at God about me, you're more than welcome. I'm sure there's better topics of conversation, but I didn't sing Somebody's Prayin' to sit back and think that it hasn't helped me when someone's been faithful to God about me. I might forget that, but I'll come back eventually.
I just gotta remember that it's never the end.
Tour Days 2 and 3: On the Willows
Long days + no internet in my room = no blog. My bad. I hope none of you were waiting desperately for this. OK, actually, I kinda do, but that's only because I'm selfish.
Um, let's see. Monday we drove a lot. We had a nice Frisbee game, I think, at a rest stop and we used the bathroom in Gettysburg because the walking tour would take more time than we had and it just seemed to make sense to head out without, sadly, viewing the history. But we got here safe, after an excursion to Wal-Mart and we got to be close to lights out, with a few escapades and maybe a little bit too much help from the in-between chaperones. Apparently someone's a little bossy, so we'll see how that plays out. It's funny the difference between tour groups. I think I'm the same as I always am but so many people haven't yet been exposed to my overbearing authority mongering that they're a bit offended. Advice would be appreciated.
Tuesday we got up early and headed out to the church that we sang at in the evening and did a sound check and things. Ron did a devotion and the music minister at the church passed out a basket with little rolled up pieces of cloth which were actually parts of the costumes from their Passion play- they're a little famous for it, but this year is their last year (low attendance). I'm kinda excited about the memento. We also talked about God moments, like Ron does often, and I would keep you posted on mine but they're mostly tainted, so I'll save you.
We got to Philadelphia and split up into groups and descended upon the city. I was in a group of Mrs. Nelson, Amber-Drew, Hannah, Yon and Kaitlin and we were in most desperate search of a Philly cheese steak from a street vendor, which was found in good order and we returned to the park behind Freedom Hall to enjoy them. Hannah fed the birds (until one got close to Yon's foot and then she stomped down before holding her legs out in front of her for the next fifteen minutes, no lie). We asked people if the cheesecake was good in Philly, which elicited much laughter- really, it was good times in the park. Mrs. Nelson almost had Coke come out her nose and Kaitlin and I agreed that we had had an ab workout because of the copious amounts of laughter going around. We walked around in search of cheesecake, but to no avail. We ended up going back to the Liberty Bell (which is free, btw, in case you were curious) and found awesome t-shirts and dessert at Panini's, the Italian place next to the French/Spanish place with the cute guy out front. We sat in the... well, not the warm sun, but most everyone was happy that it was cooler yet not raining up here. Desert was wonderful and we got a photo of our 'Philly Cheese Group' as Yon deemed us. Amazingly, we were all on time for the bus and we ended up at a mall for dinner and then on to the concert.
If there's something extra me and Jessie have to agree on, it's that we love the concerts. We had a nice little discussion about this. And every year, we have a concert that we feel went pretty badly, where the music wasn't coming and was getting in the way of God coming out of us. I mean, if you're worried about your note, you're not worried about the lyrics or whether the congregation is understanding the lyrics. It didn't help that we were tired (though energy poured back out of a lot of people as soon as they got down stairs with some sugar and a basketball court). Still, I don't think that we did too much harm, though Bobby doing the worm (the song was I Am Free and there's a lyric that states that we're free to dance and dance we did) was a bit much in my opinion. The ride back was quiet after Ron put in We Are Marshall (PS- that's Mrs. Nelson's home town, who knew?), though the football movie seemed to inspire some tackling downstairs where the guys are staying.
Perhaps it's a classic case of wanting and expecting too much. I'm not one to settle for a distracted performance, but I'm a perfectionist. I'm not one to be excited about bending the rules, even something as small as the three-to-a-group rule, but I've also been too much of a good girl my whole life to have an objective view on that. I'm not one to let rudeness slide, but I'm also frustrated (Cousin Tom just dropped in unexpectedly and he has a way of getting under your skin, if you know what I mean). Beyond all of this, I cried myself to sleep last night for the second time in my life, I think, because there's some dark pessimistic part of me that's afraid that I'm watching the death of the choir, slow and painful as if it were cancer, terminal, diagnosed and ignored. I care too much, I think, and I make too big of a deal of small things because I want too much out of this tour, but there's a bigger part of me that's much more rational that says that there's not too much wrong with wanting us to be the best we can be. Anyway, here's hoping that the rest of today is something to smile about.
Um, let's see. Monday we drove a lot. We had a nice Frisbee game, I think, at a rest stop and we used the bathroom in Gettysburg because the walking tour would take more time than we had and it just seemed to make sense to head out without, sadly, viewing the history. But we got here safe, after an excursion to Wal-Mart and we got to be close to lights out, with a few escapades and maybe a little bit too much help from the in-between chaperones. Apparently someone's a little bossy, so we'll see how that plays out. It's funny the difference between tour groups. I think I'm the same as I always am but so many people haven't yet been exposed to my overbearing authority mongering that they're a bit offended. Advice would be appreciated.
Tuesday we got up early and headed out to the church that we sang at in the evening and did a sound check and things. Ron did a devotion and the music minister at the church passed out a basket with little rolled up pieces of cloth which were actually parts of the costumes from their Passion play- they're a little famous for it, but this year is their last year (low attendance). I'm kinda excited about the memento. We also talked about God moments, like Ron does often, and I would keep you posted on mine but they're mostly tainted, so I'll save you.
We got to Philadelphia and split up into groups and descended upon the city. I was in a group of Mrs. Nelson, Amber-Drew, Hannah, Yon and Kaitlin and we were in most desperate search of a Philly cheese steak from a street vendor, which was found in good order and we returned to the park behind Freedom Hall to enjoy them. Hannah fed the birds (until one got close to Yon's foot and then she stomped down before holding her legs out in front of her for the next fifteen minutes, no lie). We asked people if the cheesecake was good in Philly, which elicited much laughter- really, it was good times in the park. Mrs. Nelson almost had Coke come out her nose and Kaitlin and I agreed that we had had an ab workout because of the copious amounts of laughter going around. We walked around in search of cheesecake, but to no avail. We ended up going back to the Liberty Bell (which is free, btw, in case you were curious) and found awesome t-shirts and dessert at Panini's, the Italian place next to the French/Spanish place with the cute guy out front. We sat in the... well, not the warm sun, but most everyone was happy that it was cooler yet not raining up here. Desert was wonderful and we got a photo of our 'Philly Cheese Group' as Yon deemed us. Amazingly, we were all on time for the bus and we ended up at a mall for dinner and then on to the concert.
If there's something extra me and Jessie have to agree on, it's that we love the concerts. We had a nice little discussion about this. And every year, we have a concert that we feel went pretty badly, where the music wasn't coming and was getting in the way of God coming out of us. I mean, if you're worried about your note, you're not worried about the lyrics or whether the congregation is understanding the lyrics. It didn't help that we were tired (though energy poured back out of a lot of people as soon as they got down stairs with some sugar and a basketball court). Still, I don't think that we did too much harm, though Bobby doing the worm (the song was I Am Free and there's a lyric that states that we're free to dance and dance we did) was a bit much in my opinion. The ride back was quiet after Ron put in We Are Marshall (PS- that's Mrs. Nelson's home town, who knew?), though the football movie seemed to inspire some tackling downstairs where the guys are staying.
Perhaps it's a classic case of wanting and expecting too much. I'm not one to settle for a distracted performance, but I'm a perfectionist. I'm not one to be excited about bending the rules, even something as small as the three-to-a-group rule, but I've also been too much of a good girl my whole life to have an objective view on that. I'm not one to let rudeness slide, but I'm also frustrated (Cousin Tom just dropped in unexpectedly and he has a way of getting under your skin, if you know what I mean). Beyond all of this, I cried myself to sleep last night for the second time in my life, I think, because there's some dark pessimistic part of me that's afraid that I'm watching the death of the choir, slow and painful as if it were cancer, terminal, diagnosed and ignored. I care too much, I think, and I make too big of a deal of small things because I want too much out of this tour, but there's a bigger part of me that's much more rational that says that there's not too much wrong with wanting us to be the best we can be. Anyway, here's hoping that the rest of today is something to smile about.
Sunday, June 14, 2009
Tour Day 1: Don't Stop Believin'
So, three concerts into tour and I'm finally back at home.
You can pretty much ask anyone- the past few weeks, I've been stressing a little a lot. I hadn't heard the full choir sing, I was so frustrated with a few girls and inside I felt like this was the wrong thing, like I should have packed up my bags and headed away, far away for the summer. I even had that feeling this morning after the first service... and the second service, though it was better. I just wanted so badly for this group to impress the congregation in Hickory, to say to everyone at our church that Crossflame is worth your support and worth the time you take on a Sunday morning to listen to us. I didn't feel like we accomplished that so much. I kinda want to write a 'I Love Crossflame' story and explain to everyone how much this choir means to me, since it apparently means a lot, as I'm going on my second tour after graduating from high school.
Going into the third concert today, I had a dual personality, I think. Part of me was the little kid that was so excited just to be back on stage, enjoying a concert because concerts have always been my favorite part of tour, not going to lie. But then, the other half of me must be the adult cynic because it taunted me every time I smiled at a song lyric or talked more to the ceiling than to the congregation when I sang. The voice very calmly informed me that I was pleased to think of myself as looking like an angel as I sang or looking more enthusiastic than people around me. It's a hard voice to beat down because, as much as I hate to admit it, I love performing and it's crazy easy for someone who loves to be on stage to think that the crowd's just focusing on them and that they're worth this focus.
Maybe I had a triple personality because somewhere along the way, I clicked back with God in a concert in a way that made me smile just as much as the tradition of Heaven's Gate makes me smile every time we start up that song, no matter how we sound. But while Heaven's Gate makes me smile because it connects me with choir members I never knew and choir members I absolutely loved, connecting with God on almost every one of our songs was wonderful. And the cynical voice beat in as much as it wanted to, but eventually, I felt... at home. I might just be someone who's not willing to let the past die, singing with a choir full of kids who are, at the oldest, two years younger than me. But at the same time, I get the chance to talk to God every concert and know, know, that He's really there. Oh, how long have I wanted that! I don't care that I have to say the same things over and over again, and I don't think He does either. I wish that I could spread this to the rest of the choir, but I feel like some of them wouldn't listen because I've been border-line rude when reprimanding them in my frustration and I feel like the rest of them wouldn't hear God behind me. It's just me, I mean, it's just Addie Jo talking again. It's like Ron time, except a lot worse because I hardly ever say anything worth listening to.
But God's probably got some great plan figured out for each of them, some way to take their favorite part of tour and make it His and make them see. Ron talks about all the spiritual awakening and growth and I don't know that I ever went on tour for that or that I ever saw that on tour. But worship, really worshiping a God who's palpably there, is the most tremendous thing Crossflame could ever give me and I'm am crazy glad I've got it back. By the way, the stress is gone. Magically. Miraculously.
So we all piled back on the bus in Blacksburg, Va., and drove to our 'rustic cabins' in the mountains of Virginia, where we'll leave at 830 (read 915) in the morning tomorrow to head off to Pennsylvania with a couple of rest stops and a lovely time at Gettysburg (get excited! I am!). No concert tomorrow- just a drive, a battlefield and a nice long time getting acquainted with our new lodgings at Elizabethtown College. I'm not too worried though. After our last concert today, I was happy. Post-concerts are the best times to gauge how the concert went for me. I'm on an emotional high, no matter what that emotion was and tonight, I'm pretty sure it was joy. I heard a noise from the back of the bus and turn around in time to hear, 'Livin' in a lonely world. She took the midnight train goin' anywhere,' and to join in with 'Just a small town boy, born and raised in South Detroit. He took the midnight train going anywhere.' The great thing was, I wasn't the only one to join in with the impromptu karaoke from the back of the bus.
I love being in a choir. And I think I was the happiest I've been in a least a month, probably more, sitting on a choir bus, singing Journey and watching fireflies.
You can pretty much ask anyone- the past few weeks, I've been stressing a little a lot. I hadn't heard the full choir sing, I was so frustrated with a few girls and inside I felt like this was the wrong thing, like I should have packed up my bags and headed away, far away for the summer. I even had that feeling this morning after the first service... and the second service, though it was better. I just wanted so badly for this group to impress the congregation in Hickory, to say to everyone at our church that Crossflame is worth your support and worth the time you take on a Sunday morning to listen to us. I didn't feel like we accomplished that so much. I kinda want to write a 'I Love Crossflame' story and explain to everyone how much this choir means to me, since it apparently means a lot, as I'm going on my second tour after graduating from high school.
Going into the third concert today, I had a dual personality, I think. Part of me was the little kid that was so excited just to be back on stage, enjoying a concert because concerts have always been my favorite part of tour, not going to lie. But then, the other half of me must be the adult cynic because it taunted me every time I smiled at a song lyric or talked more to the ceiling than to the congregation when I sang. The voice very calmly informed me that I was pleased to think of myself as looking like an angel as I sang or looking more enthusiastic than people around me. It's a hard voice to beat down because, as much as I hate to admit it, I love performing and it's crazy easy for someone who loves to be on stage to think that the crowd's just focusing on them and that they're worth this focus.
Maybe I had a triple personality because somewhere along the way, I clicked back with God in a concert in a way that made me smile just as much as the tradition of Heaven's Gate makes me smile every time we start up that song, no matter how we sound. But while Heaven's Gate makes me smile because it connects me with choir members I never knew and choir members I absolutely loved, connecting with God on almost every one of our songs was wonderful. And the cynical voice beat in as much as it wanted to, but eventually, I felt... at home. I might just be someone who's not willing to let the past die, singing with a choir full of kids who are, at the oldest, two years younger than me. But at the same time, I get the chance to talk to God every concert and know, know, that He's really there. Oh, how long have I wanted that! I don't care that I have to say the same things over and over again, and I don't think He does either. I wish that I could spread this to the rest of the choir, but I feel like some of them wouldn't listen because I've been border-line rude when reprimanding them in my frustration and I feel like the rest of them wouldn't hear God behind me. It's just me, I mean, it's just Addie Jo talking again. It's like Ron time, except a lot worse because I hardly ever say anything worth listening to.
But God's probably got some great plan figured out for each of them, some way to take their favorite part of tour and make it His and make them see. Ron talks about all the spiritual awakening and growth and I don't know that I ever went on tour for that or that I ever saw that on tour. But worship, really worshiping a God who's palpably there, is the most tremendous thing Crossflame could ever give me and I'm am crazy glad I've got it back. By the way, the stress is gone. Magically. Miraculously.
So we all piled back on the bus in Blacksburg, Va., and drove to our 'rustic cabins' in the mountains of Virginia, where we'll leave at 830 (read 915) in the morning tomorrow to head off to Pennsylvania with a couple of rest stops and a lovely time at Gettysburg (get excited! I am!). No concert tomorrow- just a drive, a battlefield and a nice long time getting acquainted with our new lodgings at Elizabethtown College. I'm not too worried though. After our last concert today, I was happy. Post-concerts are the best times to gauge how the concert went for me. I'm on an emotional high, no matter what that emotion was and tonight, I'm pretty sure it was joy. I heard a noise from the back of the bus and turn around in time to hear, 'Livin' in a lonely world. She took the midnight train goin' anywhere,' and to join in with 'Just a small town boy, born and raised in South Detroit. He took the midnight train going anywhere.' The great thing was, I wasn't the only one to join in with the impromptu karaoke from the back of the bus.
I love being in a choir. And I think I was the happiest I've been in a least a month, probably more, sitting on a choir bus, singing Journey and watching fireflies.
Saturday, June 13, 2009
Captain Obvious
I am often amazed by how obtuse I can be, geometry pun aside. I feel like a little voice should have been shouting at me to just shut up for the past month, maybe, but you know me. I'm a talker.
So I miss things and I latch onto the wrong things and I get confused pretty easily. I pretty much blew off Amber-Drew's talk on Senior Sunday (Sorry AD!) because how many times have I heard that you don't get anywhere without taking a risk? I mean, they must tell you that in like middle school or something so you get it in your brain that living in the box only gets you so far. To steal a quote from the end of an Orlando Bloom movie that occupied my television before My Best Friend's Wedding: "No true fiasco ever began as a quest for mere adequacy. A motto of the British Special Air Force is: 'Those who risk, win.'" Geeze, I mean, isn't this the inspiration for a thousand bad senior quotes in year books? Don't the cautious always get there in the end? It's like the tortoise and the hare- which we had to explain to our French teacher- the risk just isn't worth it.
See, but the thing is (and hence the title of the post) faith is a risk. I got so caught up in wanting reasons and proof and not wanting to look stupid because I believed in something that made no sense and had no proof. I had googled someone's quote on Facebook and gotten this link to a philosophy major's reasoning as to why he was no longer a Christian. The scary thing was, he had a lot of the same questions I had. He explained away God and 'religious experiences' as something that was just in his head- someone had spoken about what it felt like to be near God and he felt the same way. Everyone's favorite- religion as social conditioning. I know people who would love this guy's paper because it would confirm their idea of organized religion as inherently flawed. I guess I'm inherently flawed because I think the church is worth saving.
House, this time instead of saving me with his caustic sarcasm, confirmed this philosophy kid. I think someone had come in with a stroke thing in her brain that caused a lack of free will and he made some Thomas Aquinas crack but then he was talking about the cause and he said, 'How do you know about the wind? You look for its effects.' Well, sometimes, I look at the church and I'm not sure that I can see the effects of Christ. I mean, people can be good people without being Godly people and people can sit in a pew every Sunday and still have so much wrong. I know this is the general argument, the first reason why most people reject the church. That wasn't the end of the philosophy kid's argument (it was sooooo long, if you need something to help you deal with insomnia, I'll find it again and send it to you. No really, it was interesting. I just needed inappropriate comic relief in my life again), but it's the whole salt of the earth thing, which I totally NEVER got before Godspell. 'But if that salt has lost its flavor, it ain't got much in its favor. You can't have that fault and be salt of the earth.' Yes, the church is full of sinners (it's a hospital) but that doesn't mean we're allowed to stay that way. We're the salt of the earth, the hands and feet of Christ. We are a people set apart, or we should be. And not because we're super special and better than anyone else but because we're claiming something else and we're representing Someone else. It's like being proud of your school except much much bigger.
So that's why we've got to be better. To show some kindness to the world, so they see the effects, so the doubters know and they can watch our actions and see the wind. A thousand million words (all of which have been heard before) will not make us any more than the mostly ineffective people we've been. OK, I have no right to say that because my amount of good contributed to the word is invisible under anything except a electron microscope, but we need to be more. We have to aspire to something better, believe in Something bigger. Can we all, please, for once, regardless of dumb creed differences, shine some light into this world? Think of how much we can do. And I'm not the first to ask and I hope I'm not the last and I know that one voice doesn't change a thing. But voices are louder together and I'm not the first.
But back to my point (sorry for the soap box). I've been so superbly worried about being justified to the world in my faith that I forgot that we're not supposed to be justified to the world. Listen, one man came to change the world, to fulfill the law and to make us right underneath it. I'm willing to take the risk with Him. Who cares if I'm wrong? It will have been the best mistake of my life, someone worth being wrong for. And, funny story, once I've jumped off the cliff, I've been caught and I don't think I'm wrong anymore.
So I miss things and I latch onto the wrong things and I get confused pretty easily. I pretty much blew off Amber-Drew's talk on Senior Sunday (Sorry AD!) because how many times have I heard that you don't get anywhere without taking a risk? I mean, they must tell you that in like middle school or something so you get it in your brain that living in the box only gets you so far. To steal a quote from the end of an Orlando Bloom movie that occupied my television before My Best Friend's Wedding: "No true fiasco ever began as a quest for mere adequacy. A motto of the British Special Air Force is: 'Those who risk, win.'" Geeze, I mean, isn't this the inspiration for a thousand bad senior quotes in year books? Don't the cautious always get there in the end? It's like the tortoise and the hare- which we had to explain to our French teacher- the risk just isn't worth it.
See, but the thing is (and hence the title of the post) faith is a risk. I got so caught up in wanting reasons and proof and not wanting to look stupid because I believed in something that made no sense and had no proof. I had googled someone's quote on Facebook and gotten this link to a philosophy major's reasoning as to why he was no longer a Christian. The scary thing was, he had a lot of the same questions I had. He explained away God and 'religious experiences' as something that was just in his head- someone had spoken about what it felt like to be near God and he felt the same way. Everyone's favorite- religion as social conditioning. I know people who would love this guy's paper because it would confirm their idea of organized religion as inherently flawed. I guess I'm inherently flawed because I think the church is worth saving.
House, this time instead of saving me with his caustic sarcasm, confirmed this philosophy kid. I think someone had come in with a stroke thing in her brain that caused a lack of free will and he made some Thomas Aquinas crack but then he was talking about the cause and he said, 'How do you know about the wind? You look for its effects.' Well, sometimes, I look at the church and I'm not sure that I can see the effects of Christ. I mean, people can be good people without being Godly people and people can sit in a pew every Sunday and still have so much wrong. I know this is the general argument, the first reason why most people reject the church. That wasn't the end of the philosophy kid's argument (it was sooooo long, if you need something to help you deal with insomnia, I'll find it again and send it to you. No really, it was interesting. I just needed inappropriate comic relief in my life again), but it's the whole salt of the earth thing, which I totally NEVER got before Godspell. 'But if that salt has lost its flavor, it ain't got much in its favor. You can't have that fault and be salt of the earth.' Yes, the church is full of sinners (it's a hospital) but that doesn't mean we're allowed to stay that way. We're the salt of the earth, the hands and feet of Christ. We are a people set apart, or we should be. And not because we're super special and better than anyone else but because we're claiming something else and we're representing Someone else. It's like being proud of your school except much much bigger.
So that's why we've got to be better. To show some kindness to the world, so they see the effects, so the doubters know and they can watch our actions and see the wind. A thousand million words (all of which have been heard before) will not make us any more than the mostly ineffective people we've been. OK, I have no right to say that because my amount of good contributed to the word is invisible under anything except a electron microscope, but we need to be more. We have to aspire to something better, believe in Something bigger. Can we all, please, for once, regardless of dumb creed differences, shine some light into this world? Think of how much we can do. And I'm not the first to ask and I hope I'm not the last and I know that one voice doesn't change a thing. But voices are louder together and I'm not the first.
But back to my point (sorry for the soap box). I've been so superbly worried about being justified to the world in my faith that I forgot that we're not supposed to be justified to the world. Listen, one man came to change the world, to fulfill the law and to make us right underneath it. I'm willing to take the risk with Him. Who cares if I'm wrong? It will have been the best mistake of my life, someone worth being wrong for. And, funny story, once I've jumped off the cliff, I've been caught and I don't think I'm wrong anymore.
Friday, June 12, 2009
Memo (Part the Second)
Second superbly short post, for the same, yet unenumerated reasons as before.
You can't think of every rain shower as a hail-producing thunderstorm, nor can you hope that every hint of sunshine from behind a cloud is a precursor to a sunny day. You can, however, find glory in the storm and in the sun, because it was always in both places. This is slightly problematic for me.
Also, I hope I never have the occasion again to use weather metaphors, as they are entirely too cliche.
You can't think of every rain shower as a hail-producing thunderstorm, nor can you hope that every hint of sunshine from behind a cloud is a precursor to a sunny day. You can, however, find glory in the storm and in the sun, because it was always in both places. This is slightly problematic for me.
Also, I hope I never have the occasion again to use weather metaphors, as they are entirely too cliche.
Wednesday, June 10, 2009
Memo
Just a thought for today, because if I don't feel like writing a thirty-page dissertation on all the annoying things that possess my mind.
Pride and Prejudice moment- You know how Elizabeth completely rejects Mr. Darcy when he first proposes because she's sure he has committed the most terrible errors? Then, after everything has been explained and Mr. Darcy revealed to be who he really is, and was all along, she realizes how wonderful it would be to be Mrs. Darcy. And he proposes again.
It's kinda like that with some of us and God.
Pride and Prejudice moment- You know how Elizabeth completely rejects Mr. Darcy when he first proposes because she's sure he has committed the most terrible errors? Then, after everything has been explained and Mr. Darcy revealed to be who he really is, and was all along, she realizes how wonderful it would be to be Mrs. Darcy. And he proposes again.
It's kinda like that with some of us and God.
Saturday, June 6, 2009
Fireflies
Today has been a lovely day, I think. I get woken up to drive one dog to the vet, only to find out he has Parvo (PS Who knew what Parvo was before Cinco got it? Not me). I got called by the other dog's name twice, confirming my suspicions that my parents bought her as a replacement daughter. My dad Cloroxed the yard and I enjoyed the look of my new, nice, clean room. I also did dishes and moved furniture and other 'womanly' things, but we won't go into that right now.
I got back from the vet a little angry, just because they had to keep Cinco and he might not make it and my mom cried and I hate pets because all you end up doing is loving them for the fraction of your life that they're around and then cry because they're gone to whatever dog heaven awaits them, if indeed it's different from our heaven. And since I was upset, I began to attack my ceiling with an almost vicious vigor. I had noticed that my stars as well as my comets had dust tails and decided that the glow in the dark sky needed a make-over. Just as a postscript, it's not an astronomy obsession to have a star-ridden ceiling- it was Stephen's and Jackson's when they had to share a room, back in the day. Geeze, I would have thought I lived in a post-modern Haunted Mansion, the amount of cobwebs I had. And as I much as I enjoy the analogy of scrubbing clean a room that looked at least tolerably neat before, I'll spare your intelligence. I don't think my mood was lightened in the slightest by this idea- I was too busy being angry at the dust in the first place.
The slightly funny thing was that I had just made the point the night before that it was much easier to be patient when it was just me and God (though I'm not always patient then) and I wanted to know what He was going to do to help when I woke up the next morning and had to help get the house ready for my grandparents to come up for Jackson's graduation. I've perfected the angry hand clench as a means of keeping my mouth shut, but I'm sick of having to keep anger bottled up. Listen, I know that most everyone has heard me outburst at least once- I can rant all day long (probably 9/10ths of why I have a blog)- but I really don't say everything I think. It's like that one guy on House who thought terribly mean things and then ended up saying them all because he had some mental disorder that started out with a nosebleed and then Kutner said it was like the Sorting Hat- we are who we are because of our choices. And at the same time that I was thinking about how angry I was and priding myself on keeping it all inside, I was berating myself for not being good enough and upset about the dog and a million other things. Honestly, one person shouldn't have all this on their minds. And still, twenty problems were not solved and I just wanted to fly away, since I don't run anywhere- though I'll walk quickly in your general direction if you need me.
Well, the momentary agitations left, sprinkled with little bits of encouragement from college and old friends and somehow it ended up being dark enough for me to start noticing the fireflies as I sat on the porch swing with my mother after reporting to everyone the results of the phone call saying that Cinco was wagging his tail and vomiting and apparently this is all a good thing. See, in one of my pissy, emo days where I fought with God over every little thing because I was convinced that He could not have anyone's best interest at heart, I sat on a bench just in front of the Old Well, facing Franklin, watching the darkening quad. I sat on the bench, quite cross, and stared at the empty air in front of me and asked God for one little firefly. I figured it'd lighten up the air, it'd certainly make me happier and it wouldn't be that big of a deal. One out of season firefly, no trouble at all for someone who's got the entirety of theoretical physics worked out in His head, completely ignoring the whole you shall not test the Lord your God bit of the Gospels. So needless to say, I stared at this little bug, not really listening to anything my mother said because I need something to make my life more than ordinary.
Then Jackson started a fire in the fire pit, driving away all the bugs by us and we sat and talked about random things, because nothing in my life can make sense. I did dearly intend for this to end up being encouraging, or at least make sense, but sometimes random epic fails are wonderful, like too many red sprinkles on a cupcake, something that would only bother those of us who are looking. I'm glad it's not June 5th anymore, but nothing promises that June 7th will rise above June 6th. But the great thing is that the Person who I doubted (doubt?), who has provided for everything, no longer seems like a stingy King sitting far away, withholding blessings from people not in His favor. He became human, and this helps me understand Him, though only a little.
Oh my God, it is so much better to be in love with You. You're much more patient with me when I leave and though You don't like the dust, You are much better about remembering that stars shine. And I forget.
I got back from the vet a little angry, just because they had to keep Cinco and he might not make it and my mom cried and I hate pets because all you end up doing is loving them for the fraction of your life that they're around and then cry because they're gone to whatever dog heaven awaits them, if indeed it's different from our heaven. And since I was upset, I began to attack my ceiling with an almost vicious vigor. I had noticed that my stars as well as my comets had dust tails and decided that the glow in the dark sky needed a make-over. Just as a postscript, it's not an astronomy obsession to have a star-ridden ceiling- it was Stephen's and Jackson's when they had to share a room, back in the day. Geeze, I would have thought I lived in a post-modern Haunted Mansion, the amount of cobwebs I had. And as I much as I enjoy the analogy of scrubbing clean a room that looked at least tolerably neat before, I'll spare your intelligence. I don't think my mood was lightened in the slightest by this idea- I was too busy being angry at the dust in the first place.
The slightly funny thing was that I had just made the point the night before that it was much easier to be patient when it was just me and God (though I'm not always patient then) and I wanted to know what He was going to do to help when I woke up the next morning and had to help get the house ready for my grandparents to come up for Jackson's graduation. I've perfected the angry hand clench as a means of keeping my mouth shut, but I'm sick of having to keep anger bottled up. Listen, I know that most everyone has heard me outburst at least once- I can rant all day long (probably 9/10ths of why I have a blog)- but I really don't say everything I think. It's like that one guy on House who thought terribly mean things and then ended up saying them all because he had some mental disorder that started out with a nosebleed and then Kutner said it was like the Sorting Hat- we are who we are because of our choices. And at the same time that I was thinking about how angry I was and priding myself on keeping it all inside, I was berating myself for not being good enough and upset about the dog and a million other things. Honestly, one person shouldn't have all this on their minds. And still, twenty problems were not solved and I just wanted to fly away, since I don't run anywhere- though I'll walk quickly in your general direction if you need me.
Well, the momentary agitations left, sprinkled with little bits of encouragement from college and old friends and somehow it ended up being dark enough for me to start noticing the fireflies as I sat on the porch swing with my mother after reporting to everyone the results of the phone call saying that Cinco was wagging his tail and vomiting and apparently this is all a good thing. See, in one of my pissy, emo days where I fought with God over every little thing because I was convinced that He could not have anyone's best interest at heart, I sat on a bench just in front of the Old Well, facing Franklin, watching the darkening quad. I sat on the bench, quite cross, and stared at the empty air in front of me and asked God for one little firefly. I figured it'd lighten up the air, it'd certainly make me happier and it wouldn't be that big of a deal. One out of season firefly, no trouble at all for someone who's got the entirety of theoretical physics worked out in His head, completely ignoring the whole you shall not test the Lord your God bit of the Gospels. So needless to say, I stared at this little bug, not really listening to anything my mother said because I need something to make my life more than ordinary.
Then Jackson started a fire in the fire pit, driving away all the bugs by us and we sat and talked about random things, because nothing in my life can make sense. I did dearly intend for this to end up being encouraging, or at least make sense, but sometimes random epic fails are wonderful, like too many red sprinkles on a cupcake, something that would only bother those of us who are looking. I'm glad it's not June 5th anymore, but nothing promises that June 7th will rise above June 6th. But the great thing is that the Person who I doubted (doubt?), who has provided for everything, no longer seems like a stingy King sitting far away, withholding blessings from people not in His favor. He became human, and this helps me understand Him, though only a little.
Oh my God, it is so much better to be in love with You. You're much more patient with me when I leave and though You don't like the dust, You are much better about remembering that stars shine. And I forget.
Wednesday, June 3, 2009
From the Volunteer Desk at the Church Office
I remember listening to a sermon (shocker, I know) and the pastor was commenting on how uneasy people get when you start talking about different members of the Trinity. Most people are fine with talking about God- I mean, a lot of people want to believe that there is a higher power of some kind and it's easy to say that God is the same as Allah and is the creator that other faiths look to. It's easy to be poetic about God- he's in the wind that makes me smile and the stars that light our nights. His love made a good world for us and He cares for us. Sure, there's that whole wrath of God problem, but most of that can be explained away, as can many other problems with an all-powerful, all-knowing, all-loving Deity. God is a kind of common ground, I guess you could say, that makes Christians tolerant of others. We all believe in God and that's not too terribly hard. Admittedly, that's the first thing atheists attack because if there is no God, there's no reason to believe in a Son of God or a Spirit of God. Still, if you're convinced of anything, you'll be convinced of God first.
Then comes this Jesus person. People start to get a bit more uptight when you start talking about a man claiming to be God. It's a bit harder to be tolerant when you talk about someone who said that He was the truth and no one could get to the Father except through Him. For a person trying to sit on the fence and make peace with the world, Jesus is a problem. He's a minor prophet in Islam and a false Messiah in traditional Judaism. He's just another moral teacher to most of the world. For some, He's a banner to fight under, a reason to be exclusive, a reason to start a crusade. And for yet others, he's this peaceful, loving lamb. I have wished so many times that I could have been there to see three years of ministry, to meet Jesus of Nazareth face-to-face, to get to know the disciples and to understand what He was truly all about. I want to see the miracles, hear the parables, listen to the people around Him. I'd write a Gospel for myself and state it as the truth seen by a 21st century person so that everyone would know and understand and there would be no more conflict about who He was or what He meant, this man who is God. I'd love to get to know Him more.
It's all so confusing. On the one hand, I have a religion professor who was much more focused on the history of the church than on any actual divine authorization of the church who talks about Jesus like He's any other revolutionary leader, like He's just some other man. I believe I developed an eye twitch while watching Jesus Christ Superstar because they kept on using that phrase- He's just a man.
In my infinite amount of diversity (please tell me you hear the sarcasm), I have a Muslim friend. The only time we disagreed about anything was when we disagreed about Jesus. She said He seemed like a great guy, with tons of solid moral teachings. I said that the only thing we disagree on is that Jesus was God and from then on we agreed to disagree. I was surprised to hear that Muslims are also waiting for a day when the universal scales of justice will be righted. I kinda want to delve into other religions more, just to see what the common ground is. But, then again, at the end of the day, there's Jesus, willing to accept all who come to Him but not forcing anyone. I love the cry to Jerusalem- Long have I wanted to gather you under my wings as a hen gathers her brood but you would not let me. Now, somewhere along the way I get angry because, when it comes to the good of all humanity, there shouldn't be any 'letting' involved, there should just be saving. Angry face, but there's problems in everyone else's plans except for God's and someday I'll learn that. I believe that God's plans involve Jesus who died (historical fact) and who rose again (faith necessity) in a bigger way than can be compatible with other religions. I love the soldier in The Last Battle by CS Lewis who thought he had been serving Tash by doing the good things he had done all his life, when really, all of his aspirations really led him to Aslan. I love The Shack's Jesus who says that He'll travel down any road to find you. I don't know what's right. I have a lot more learning to do before I'll present a firm opinion on that. But as I read through Acts, it doesn't much matter about other people- I'll know what to say when it needs to be said. What does matter is the change that I can already see and the growth of a church that isn't reasonable unless something truly great had happened. God died- long live God. And it's this Man that I want to get to know more.
How many songs have I listened to that talk about wanting to get closer to Jesus, getting to know Him more and more? And I've sung along and pretended but like the Hebrews in front of Sinai, I'm not sure that I really want to meet God. He's a bit scary, you know? I'm so excited to have this thirst for knowledge back- it's been a long time since I cared to think about anything other than me and my problems. I have whole Person to get to know better, beyond what's been written and what's been guessed and what's been insinuated. This is going to be wonderful.
And then there's this third person, the Holy Spirit. You get a lot of weird looks when you start hanging out with the Holy Ghost- look what happened at Pentecost. For an added laugh, if you've seen Charlie the Unicorn 3, replace the image of tongues of fire resting on everyone at Pentecost with the image of the unicorn tongues pulling Charlie into the boat. Quite amusing, though not assistful in your daily walk, I fear. There's a lot more to learn with and about this last person. All I know is the Spirit could talk a little louder when I convince myself that all I'm doing is talking to the ceiling. I need to be reminded not only of the bigness of God but also of the nearness of God.
Ah Silly Trinity. What a day You've given me.
Then comes this Jesus person. People start to get a bit more uptight when you start talking about a man claiming to be God. It's a bit harder to be tolerant when you talk about someone who said that He was the truth and no one could get to the Father except through Him. For a person trying to sit on the fence and make peace with the world, Jesus is a problem. He's a minor prophet in Islam and a false Messiah in traditional Judaism. He's just another moral teacher to most of the world. For some, He's a banner to fight under, a reason to be exclusive, a reason to start a crusade. And for yet others, he's this peaceful, loving lamb. I have wished so many times that I could have been there to see three years of ministry, to meet Jesus of Nazareth face-to-face, to get to know the disciples and to understand what He was truly all about. I want to see the miracles, hear the parables, listen to the people around Him. I'd write a Gospel for myself and state it as the truth seen by a 21st century person so that everyone would know and understand and there would be no more conflict about who He was or what He meant, this man who is God. I'd love to get to know Him more.
It's all so confusing. On the one hand, I have a religion professor who was much more focused on the history of the church than on any actual divine authorization of the church who talks about Jesus like He's any other revolutionary leader, like He's just some other man. I believe I developed an eye twitch while watching Jesus Christ Superstar because they kept on using that phrase- He's just a man.
In my infinite amount of diversity (please tell me you hear the sarcasm), I have a Muslim friend. The only time we disagreed about anything was when we disagreed about Jesus. She said He seemed like a great guy, with tons of solid moral teachings. I said that the only thing we disagree on is that Jesus was God and from then on we agreed to disagree. I was surprised to hear that Muslims are also waiting for a day when the universal scales of justice will be righted. I kinda want to delve into other religions more, just to see what the common ground is. But, then again, at the end of the day, there's Jesus, willing to accept all who come to Him but not forcing anyone. I love the cry to Jerusalem- Long have I wanted to gather you under my wings as a hen gathers her brood but you would not let me. Now, somewhere along the way I get angry because, when it comes to the good of all humanity, there shouldn't be any 'letting' involved, there should just be saving. Angry face, but there's problems in everyone else's plans except for God's and someday I'll learn that. I believe that God's plans involve Jesus who died (historical fact) and who rose again (faith necessity) in a bigger way than can be compatible with other religions. I love the soldier in The Last Battle by CS Lewis who thought he had been serving Tash by doing the good things he had done all his life, when really, all of his aspirations really led him to Aslan. I love The Shack's Jesus who says that He'll travel down any road to find you. I don't know what's right. I have a lot more learning to do before I'll present a firm opinion on that. But as I read through Acts, it doesn't much matter about other people- I'll know what to say when it needs to be said. What does matter is the change that I can already see and the growth of a church that isn't reasonable unless something truly great had happened. God died- long live God. And it's this Man that I want to get to know more.
How many songs have I listened to that talk about wanting to get closer to Jesus, getting to know Him more and more? And I've sung along and pretended but like the Hebrews in front of Sinai, I'm not sure that I really want to meet God. He's a bit scary, you know? I'm so excited to have this thirst for knowledge back- it's been a long time since I cared to think about anything other than me and my problems. I have whole Person to get to know better, beyond what's been written and what's been guessed and what's been insinuated. This is going to be wonderful.
And then there's this third person, the Holy Spirit. You get a lot of weird looks when you start hanging out with the Holy Ghost- look what happened at Pentecost. For an added laugh, if you've seen Charlie the Unicorn 3, replace the image of tongues of fire resting on everyone at Pentecost with the image of the unicorn tongues pulling Charlie into the boat. Quite amusing, though not assistful in your daily walk, I fear. There's a lot more to learn with and about this last person. All I know is the Spirit could talk a little louder when I convince myself that all I'm doing is talking to the ceiling. I need to be reminded not only of the bigness of God but also of the nearness of God.
Ah Silly Trinity. What a day You've given me.
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