Cones, Pinpricks, and Ripples

Ah. A bit of quiet in the morning hour. The struggle to turn these lazy habits of vacation and partying around. Inching back the hand on the alarm clock bit by bit. I love it. Tomorrow will be a half hour earlier still until I'm back in my 5am "rise and shine" groove. At this rate I'll get there by Thursday. Coddling myself, I suppose. But I learned some time ago that I'm better off taking it slow and succeeding than biting off more than I can chew. So half hour increments for me.

And I find myself in yet another spot in the house. Every season seems to find me relocating to some different nook. Last winter it was the family room. Spring found me in the dining room. Summer leads me outdoors to my porch. And the early mornings of the fall/Christmas season found me in the sitting room. Today? Here I sit, curled up on my salmon colored loveseat in the corner of my music room. I like it. Guess my sanguine tendencies are showing, eh?

I'm reading a book called Brothers and Keepers by John Wideman. I can't recommend it to everyone. The language is rough, nitty-gritty, streetwise, telling of places and cultures unfamiliar to me. Not pretty. But I'm catching a glimpse of life in a different place, yet right around the corner. And as usual, I'm finding that Jesus is the only answer. It seems that in every place, at all times, whether I'm discovering history or exploring a new friendship, Jesus is always relevant, needed, and true.

Here's an excerpt from this book, the authors meditation on heritage. Where do we come from, how did we get here? Who in the world could have mastered such a plan? I know -- do you?

The strong survive. The ones who are strong and lucky. You can take that back as far as you want to go. Everybody needs one father, two grandfathers, four great grandfathers, eight great-great-grandfathers, sixteen great-great-great-grandfathers, then thirty-two, then sixty-for, and that's only eight generations backward in time, eight generations linked directly, intimately with what you are. Less than 150 years ago, 128 men made love to 128 women, not all in the same hotel or on the same day but within a relatively short expanse of time, say 20 years, in places as distant as Igboland, New Amsterdam, and South Carolina. Unknown to each other, probably never even coming face to face in their lifetimes, each of these couples was part of the grand conspiracy to produce you. Think of a pyramid placed on one of its points, a vast cone of light whose sides flare outward, vectors of force like the slanted lines kids draw to show a star's shining. You once were a pinprick of light, a spark whose radiance momentarily upheld the design, stabalized the ever-expanding V that opens to infinity. At some inconceivable distance the light bends, curves back on itself like a ram's horn or conch shell, spiraling towards its greatest compass but simultaneously narrowing to that needle's eye it must enter in order to flow forth bounteously again. You hovered at that nexus, took your turn through that open door.

Pretty amazing stuff to contemplate. Could leave your head swimming or your mind reeling or your emotions confused and overwhelmed. For me, it leads to Christ. He created me. And my part in future generations is His plan, my privilege -- and something I need to take seriously. I do believe I will answer for my impact on this generation and the next. And the next as well. The ripples will continue long after I'm gone, the inverted pyramid growing larger. May grace and mercy, holiness and truth, love and justice mingle in the circles I leave behind; may Godly substance fill that continuous cone of light.

So Far...

...I've had a couple of goof ups when my mouth gets in gear before my mind does. Hubby is there to stop me right away.

My hardest moments are when I'm alone, talking out loud to myself. I never realized how much I do that, and there is no one there to remind me. So it's not until after I've said a sentence or two that I catch myself.


A bit lulu? A touch of something mental? I don't think so. I bet you all do it more than you realize, too. Try a 6 week sabbatical and find out!

On Your Mark, Get Set, GO!!!

It begins today. A 6 week vocal sabbatical. That means no talking for all that time. No sound production. No humming. Not even clearing the throat (that will be impossible.) But hopefully the rest will be doable.

I damaged my vocal cords a couple years back and now it's time to do something about it. My husband, a gracious and loving man, is fully supportive, knowing that my ability to sing and talk brings me great joy. He realizes it is important to me -- so he's willing to put up with this attempt to regain vocal strength. Isn't he a sweetie? Because you do realize, don't you, that this will be hard on the household. Mama is not talking, not giving commands, not discussing things readily. Oh, I will carry a small notebook. We will set up a whiteboard in a common room. And I am even considering the purchase of a small computer (I do not have one of my own presently). All of these things should keep communication happening. Fun, fun...

Last night the church in Moira prayed for me. They asked for grace, healing, and a better voice than ever (watch out, Renee Fleming). But someone also asked that during this time of silence I would hear things I've never heard before. I like that. I hope for that. I'll take an answer to that prayer, thank you very much!

Meanwhile, my keyboard may be more active than usual. I will be writing school assignments, sending info to students for the upcoming musical production of Seussical, tweaking a booklet I've written for publication, and blogging.

We shall see how this goes.

Meditations On the Call

The children of Israel had been ravaged by the King of Babylon. It was not without warning. For years, even decades, Jeremiah had been delivering the word of the Lord, calling them to repent, telling them of impending destruction if flagrant disobedience continued.

They dismissed his words. Readily.

Now they found themselves in desperate straits. The promised destruction had come. Broken and hurting, they search out Jeremiah, seeking a word from the Lord. And this was their pledge regarding the word:

"Whether it is pleasing or displeasing, we will obey the voice of the Lord our God to whom we send you, that it may be well with us when we obey the voice of the Lord our God." Jeremiah 42.6

Those are the right words. They should be our very own daily declaration. Oh, that we would so long to walk with Him that the path becomes irrelevant so long as He is on it with us. Oh, that we would hunger for His presence so much that our situation becomes insignificant in comparison to His relationship with us. To obey Him becomes our chief desire, to please Him our daily goal. Let Him take us where He will. Let Him bless us as He chooses. "Whether it is pleasing or displeasing, we will obey..."

But their hearts were not sincere. They were not broken enough, hungry enough, devoted enough. Jeremiah speaks only a few sentences more, delivering the call to live in the promised land and not return to Egypt, the land that represented no want or lack, no danger or war.

"But if you say, 'We will not dwell in this land,' disobeying the voice of the Lord your God, saying, 'No, but we will go to the land of Egypt where we shall see no war, nor hear the sound of the trumpet, nor be hungry for bread, and there we will dwell,' ...none shall escape from the disaster that I will bring upon them." Jeremiah 42.13,14,17

Oh, how we prefer safety and ease. We do not like the trumpet sound, the call to war, the challenge to live without comfort, the opportunity to sacrifice. But sometimes the will of God requires us to respond to that trumpet, to wage war, to go without comfort. In fact, we are called to die daily. Imagine that.

A new year is upon us. Are we prepared to hear His voice, to answer the call, to take up the cross?

Now is the time. Stir yourselves once again. Put away the feasting, the pleasures. Renew your hearts desire to follow after Him, no matter where He leads. Prepare to hear the trumpet, to wage war, to sacrifice for His will.

He is, after all, the Lord of all. Forever and ever. Amen.

A Word Again

For example...

you're traveling with your little brother or young son. He wants to play 20 questions. You really, really don't like playing car games. What kind of seed could you sow in this situation? How will your choice effect your future? When you're 85 years old and desirous of some trivial catering will you have it?

Here's the scriptural principle and answer: Sow seed now and reap in the days to come.

The Word is relevant today. Every day, actually.