Fear Never Stops the Faithful

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Learning to live and speak in a new country is both exhilarating and terrifying. Sometimes scary, but mostly exciting. Which is why Anne Voskamp’s blog post was especially meaningful to me last week.

Here are some gems:

Sometimes we shroud who we are becoming, to keep all the tender, stretching places, safe. Sometimes we fear the words that might abort dreams, the future that might miscarry, the humility that might hurt.

“I know not….know not of so much. Of everything. But I am venturing out into the questions in search of the answers.”

Little did I know how the venturing out would terrify and that it would never stop terrifying and that fear never stops the faithful, full of Him, from leaping anyway.

(my italics)

Ann frequently addresses fear in her posts, looks at it squarely, and leaps. I think it’s because she has a lot of love to give. Love casts out fear, John said.

I can’t wait for Ann’s new book coming out in Jan. ’11.
One broken woman,
One wild quest for joy,
One Thousand of His Gifts
Sounds like my kind of book! I will find a way to get it from the USA to Poland without paying exorbitant shipping. It will be a must-have.

I am proud that I know a small part of what is in the book. Ann gave me permission to share three blog posts with the writing class at CBS last winter. She said the posts would soon not be available on the blog, because of being integrated into the book and becoming Zondervan’s property. The students were moved with her writing. We called it “emotive.”

What has happened to Ann is every blogger’s dream: a publisher found her blog and asked her for a book. She is most deserving, and I’m so glad she didn’t let fear stop her first tentative fingers on the keys of cyberspace. Ann has guided thousands to give thanks, find joy in the mundane,
see the sacred in the chaos,
the Cross in the clothespin,
the flame in the bush.

Cosmos in Chaos

Posted in books, food, music, words by

In a recent conversation about art, creativity, beauty, excellence, and ministry, I wished for a week’s time to discuss the themes. I have no statements to make, only ideas to explore. Madeleine L’Engle’s book, Walking on Water is a good read about these matters. This is one of my favourite quotes from there:

Leonard Bernstein says that for him, music is cosmos in chaos. That has the ring of truth in my ears and sparks my creative imagination. And it is true not only of music; all art is cosmos, cosmos found within chaos. At least all Christian art is cosmos in chaos. There’s some modern art, in all disciplines, which is not; some artists look at the world around them and see chaos, and instead of discovering cosmos, they reproduce chaos, on canvas, in music, in words. As far as I can see, the production of chaos is neither art, nor is it Christian.

Several deductions:
~Making cosmos (order) out of chaos is part of embracing the glory and wonder of being made in God’s image.
~Creating cosmos communicates, and it is more than talking to myself, though that has its place.
~Christian art might be characterized best by its outward focus, its valuing God and others over self. Does that mean that art/ creativity is service/ministry? This reminds me of how Michael Card, in his Scribbling in the Sand, quotes Vincent van Gogh: The more I think it over, the more I feel that there is nothing more truly artistic than to love people.
~Jesus was an artist when He washed His disciples’ feet, and later when He served them breakfast.
~I get to eat brunch with several artists in just a couple minutes!

Bon Voyage, Hope Singers 2010

Posted in music, Poland by

Following a path that looks more like chance than design but really is Divine Planning, I’m ready to pack up for my 3rd Hope Singers tour. And I don’t have words to say how excited I am.

Life is so simple on a choir tour. All you have to do is make sure you have your music folder and water bottle in hand at the right time. Everything else–bus time, conversations, exploring old towns, weather, picnics–is peripheral. But the peripheral things, the ones you don’t concentrate so much on, are what shapes the tour, and gives it meaning and delight.

My favourite story about Lloyd Kauffman, the conductor, happened after the first full program in Krakow in ’08. My part, 2nd alto, had a low note, I think it was a D, and I didn’t hit it. It was my favourite note in the song, and I felt bad for messing it up.

During the meal afterward, I was sitting across the corner from Lloyd. I told him I’m sorry I didn’t hit that note. He hears every note of every singer, so of course he knew which one I was talking about. He smiled big and put his hand on my shoulder and said, “You’re forgiven–be cleansed and free!”

His gentleness and grace inspired me to not fail the music and from there on, I could hit the note fine, and when it was especially fine, he’d give me this huge wink that made me feel light as air.

Lloyd is a master with music, and with people. He arranges the songs we sing, and knows how he wants them sung, but is gentle and gracious when we fail his plans. Hope ’08 had many significant moments, but that one exchange with Lloyd probably changed my life.

Because Christ’s love and redemption is the most powerful force in the world.To hand out grace in the face of failure is being as Christ. If that’s the only thing that happens during a choir tour, receiving God’s grace and extending it to others, it is enough.

Leaving Them Behind

Posted in books, Family, Ireland, life, Poland by

It’s booked: Dublin to Warsaw.

Friday morning I plan to fly to Poland, to teach English for two years. I look deep into my nephews’ and niece’s eyes, and stroke their hair, and try to absorb their light and dimples and smiles. I weigh suitcases, deliberate, and cull. And run my hands over the spines of books I need to put back on the shelves. I’m needing to leave my friends behind. And I don’t mean only the friends who walk and breathe and love me and pray big, magnanimous prayers for me.

My books are my friends too, and I wish I could take them with me, to enjoy repeatedly and share. But like real friends, the books will remain a real part of my life, even though we will live in separate countries.

I don’t know how to transport my life in two suitcases and leave behind what is familiar and embrace what is strange, and do it well. Part of it is to make hard choices and leave some things behind. It will be ok. I’ll make new friends there, and keep the old. Both the kinds with hearts and the kinds with pages.

My Saviour has my treasure, and He will walk with me.

The Greatest Injustice

Posted in life by

Ann talks about it here.

She says:

I had lived embittered at what I judged the injustices of this world but how I had missed that grace was the greatest injustice of all?

It is true–grace is not fair.

There is nothing more to say.

Wine of the World

Posted in life, words by

I wrote this free verse some years back. Usually communion tells me about the past, but during one communion when I was empty of wine and life, I caught a glimpse of the future–the wedding feast when Jesus said He would drink the wine again.

In the day of Jesus’ first public miracle, it was a disgrace for the host to run out of wine. On that last great day, He, the gracious Host, will have enough for everyone. I share this here for anyone who may be empty, in disgrace, and in need of hope for refilling.

“I have no more wine,”
I say to Him at the edge of the crowd.
Palms up, shoulders hunched.

Conversation dwindling, smiles fading,
The crowd thins.
No sparkle,
No celebration.
We have no more wine.

“Woman, what have I to do with you?”
But His eyes belie the cold words.

“What do You have to do with me?
My Lord! My Maker!
The True Vine from which True Wine comes!
Leave me not alone.
Forsake me not in this disgrace.
Do not deny me dancing feet and songs.
I cannot bear to leave this place of light.
Without You, I will go out into darkness and die.
But You are here, and You are my life,
And I will do whatever You say.”

He commands the water pots to be filled.
Clear, splashing rivers that cleanse and refresh.
Full and sloshing over earthen rims.

The harried, frazzled MC takes a sip in a deserted alcove.
His eyes beam over the edge of the chalice.
Then he shouts.
THIS IS THE BEST WINE IN THE WORLD!
COME, PEOPLE, TASTE AND SEE!
START THE MUSIC AGAIN!

I find Him at the crowd’s edge again.
He says nothing, but
Smiles at me.
The silence between us fills
With music.
Rolling, trilling, glorious music.
It sings of sweetness and life,
Of vibrance and light,
And the guests raise their cups high
To the health of the bride and groom.

The music swirls again, and
Everyone’s feet wear wings.
He is still in the alcove with me,
Watching.
Is He thinking of a grander wedding feast
In another place,
Without time?

Bread of the world in mercy broken,
Wine of the world in mercy shed, *
I pledge my life to You.
You fill the hungry with good things.
I come to You in emptiness and desperation
And You always–always–
Fill, refresh, give reasons to dance.

And on that last great feast day,
I will see You smile again,
And it will be as we said back then:
You saved the best for last!

*These are opening lines from a hymn by Reginald Heber who also wrote “Holy, Holy, Holy.”

Is it Pain or is it Beauty?

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I’ve written about Don Miller before, as in here and here. I follow his blog, on which he posts sporadically.

A couple days ago, I found the post especially profound. There was a paragraph that pierced me. I think it’s truth, though I’m still mulling over it, and there are ways in which I want to disagree because I wish that beauty didn’t have anything to do with pain. I guess that’s what we were made for, but on this side of Eden, the two will be inextricably linked.

…beautiful things are frightening. When something beautiful happens it’s sometimes like an amputation, like your heart is being cut out with a knife. You don’t ever think when you are in extreme pain that you are being saved, chosen, picked for relationship, set aside to be loved. You can never really believe pain. It’s almost always something beautiful transitioning to something better, the whole time masquerading as a tragedy.

The Diet to End All Diets

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Monday—
Breakfast Weak tea (1 calorie)
Lunch 1 boullion cube
1/3 cup water (2 1/2 calories)
Dinner 3 oz. prune juice (gargle)
1 pigeon thigh (1 1/2 calories)

Tuesday—
Breakfast Scraped crumbs from burnt toast (1/2 calorie)
Lunch 1 doughnut hole (no sugar)
1 glass dehydrated water (0 calories)
Dinner 1 canary drumstick (4 calories)

Wednesday—
Breakfast Boiled out stains of table cover (1/4 calorie)
Lunch 1/2 dozen poppy seeds (3 calories)
Dinner Bee’s knees and mosquito
knuckles, saute with vinegar (2 calories)

Thursday—
Breakfast Shredded eggshell skins (1 calorie)
Lunch Belly button from navel orange (0 calories)
Dinner 3 eyes from Irish potato (diced) (3 calories)

Friday—
Breakfast 2 lobster antennae (1/2 calorie)
Lunch 1 guppy fin (1 calorie)
Dinner Jellyfish vertebrae (3 calories)

Saturday—
Breakfast 4 chopped banana seeds (1/2 calorie)
Lunch Broiled butterfly liver (1 calorie)
Dinner Fillet of soft shell crab claw (1 calories)

Sunday—
Breakfast Pickled hummingbird tongue (2 calories)
Lunch Prime rib of tadpole (3 calories)
Dinner Tossed paprika and cloverleaf salad;
1 aroma of empty custard pie plate (1/2 calorie)

NOTE: ALL MEALS TO BE EATEN UNDER MICROSCOPE TO AVOID EXTRA PORTIONS!! WEIGHT LOSS GUARANTEED. GOOD LUCK!!

Airy-Fairy or Practical?

Posted in life by

“Our people tend to be practical, and don’t have time for dreamers and airy-fairy people. We are terribly practical,” I said.

“No, we’re not,” someone else said. “If we weren’t airy-fairy, we wouldn’t be out here drinking frappes while there’s work to be done inside.”

“We’d be washing the dishes.”

“And filling the canning jars.”

“You’re right–and washing up the floor for SURE before we even THINK about going outside,” I added.

We were four sisters and mom, sitting in the sun-infused grass. They had called me at my house, and knowing the psychological moves to make, said “We’re having mocha frappes outside–but you don’t have to come!”

So of course I came, and drank and sat with them, and laughed and laughed while mom read “The Diet to End all Diets” to us.

I think it’s easier to be practical after being fanciful and airy-fairy first.

An Old Friend, A New Book

Posted in books, My Book by

Michelle is one of my oldest, bestest friends. When I’m particularly sad or mad or glad, I pick up the phone and talk it out with her, and she listens and asks questions, and we shriek and lecture and giggle and howl by turns. Yup, it can get noisy.

Back in ’05, she and her husband and son lived here for seven weeks, and we were both working on our books. We’d sit cross-legged on her couch, each with a laptop, critiquing each other’s drafts. We’d hash out the issues we were writing/reading about, and delete and add paragraphs. It was brutal, safe honesty, and incredible fun, even though I’m pretty sure neither of us want to do it again. At least not for a long time.

It always amazes me that we get along so well, Michelle and I. We have lots of similar interests and passions, but we have lots of differences about less important things. She likes light blue; I don’t touch it. She doesn’t like desserts so much, but I do. She likes a more modern decor; my default is eclectic. My book was primarily for singles. Hers is for new brides. Our worlds could hardly be more diverse. But we get along like a house on fire.

Now her book is here! I got a copy yesterday. She co-authored it with her sister Christy. I am as proud of them as can be.

Authors don’t write books because they are masters of their subjects, or have all the answers. They write because they are more honest than most of the populace about the issues they live with, wrestle with, learn about. They are hungry students who know there’s more to learn. I didn’t write my book for single women because I believe that single is the best and only way to live, or because I want to be single all my life, or because I know everything about living well singly. I wrote because it was time to be honest about the scenario many ladies find themselves in, and because those ladies deserved a caring, sensitive voice.

Michelle and Christy wrote with the same motivations. Writing from the middle of their lives as new brides gave them a voice of understanding and credibility. The book is honest, personal, and articulate–a winning combination.

To order your copy of Marital Bliss with a kiss of reality, email Michelle at smilesbymiles[dot]gmail[dot]com. Visit their blog here to “meet” them and/or subscribe to updates. I like the fun, interactive blog even though none of it applies to me, so you have to know it’s a good one if I’ve subscribed to it.

I skimmed the book last night. Not being a bride, I’ll likely not be taking the time to read it from cover to cover. But I cheer for solid marriages and women who love their husbands and families well, and I will promote this book because of what’s in it and because the authors are stellar ladies who deserve big cheers for their enormous vision and creative wordsmithing. I believe the world will be more beautiful for what they wrote.

Bravo to Michelle and Christy!