Driving Forth Darkness

This morning we were gazing out at the dark skies and constant downpour that was turning our yard into a pond. It was almost 9am, three hours after sunrise and still it seemed as dark as dawn. We were steeped in darkness.

Then J.J. pipes up, "It's just like the Smith Family motto: 'Tenebras expellit et hostes' which means, 'He drives forth darkness and the foe.' I looked at him as if he were from another planet and thought, "Who is this child? What Sci Fi. book has he been reading that's giving him ideas like this? Does he really understand how profound his words are?"

So I asked, "What ARE you talking about, Son?"

He rattled off the same thing, 'Tenebras expellit et hostes, the Smith Family motto.'

"Do you mean Smith like Grandma and Grandpa Smith?"

"Yes!" he replied as if to say, "Of course! What planet are YOU from?"

He went on to explain that he had a dream last night about Grandpa which caused him to remember a promise he had made about reading the Smith family genealogy (a Christmas gift) every morning. So he was reading Grandpa's genealogy this morning and saw the Smith coat of arms and the family motto.

Sovann said, "We don't have a Pen family motto. Maybe we should make one up."

I really like my family of origin's motto. I love it when my kids teach me cool stuff like "Tenebras expellit et hostes."

Narnia Opening Night

Opening night was a success! Praise be to God who provided everything we needed, despite having only half the time (6 weeks!) to put the show together, plus cancelled auditions, rehearsals, and photo shoot because of the worst snow storm in 40 years, loss of rehearsal space because of broken pipes and exploded furnace, misprinted dates on posters, family emergencies (towed car, flood evacuation, surgery, injury, death of loved ones), and no power or heat for 10 hours of move-in (when lights and sound were supposed to be set up and adjusted) at the theater because of a massive wind storm. I remember before auditions were even scheduled, Sheri told me, "It's going to be ugly!" simply because of the crazy schedule that had to be tweaked according to the availability of the theater. Little did she know just how "ugly" it was going to get. And yet, God has made something beautiful out of it. Isn't life just full of contradictions?

Enjoy the photos!

Emily Walter, the Centaur.

J.J. telling Father Christmas (Ethan Morrow) what he wants for Christmas.

J.J. poses with Joann, the director.






Kyra, the Evil Elm Tree.

Jamie Julian - loved the "Hag" hair (I've never known a sweeter, gentler hag in my entire life!).

J.J.'s first experience with finger nail polish. Everyone said he was the cutest and funniest evil henchman alive.

Susan (Julia Reidlinger) and Lucy (Katherine) on stage after curtain call to receive their fans.

Sisters Emily (the Dwarf) and Amanda (Tree) Wright.



Megan Bradner as Owl.

After the show, all ready to head to the opening night party.

At the party - food, music, dancing, friends, games, karyoke...and parents with droopy eyelids struggling to last through midnight after a long week of dress rehearsals.

I Was Wrong

Today we had to be at PLS (the rehearsal site for Narnia) at 8am for Katherine to get pictures taken with the 3 other Pevensie children for the publicity poster. We were excited and nervous about driving in the snow and left early to give us plenty of time to be there. The side street to PSL was very snowy and icy, with one car even parked/abandoned in the middle of the road, so I decided to take the advice of the school principal who had said he'd been parking at the nearby McDonald's and walking.

Since we were early and were using their parking space, I treated Katherine and myself to breakfast (a $3 splurge). Then we trudged through the slushy snow and ice to the front gate, which was locked. I should have checked the time, because we were still very early and ended up standing at the gate for a good 20 minutes before Sheri came to open things up.

It was fun seeing the kids get in costume and get their hair done and transform into their characters. They needed a couple rehearsal parents to stay, so I volunteered and got to sit in on some of the sessions and see the kids learn blocking, dances and music.

After awhile, I started thinking about the car and decided to move it around to the back of the McDonald's lot so the restaurant's patrons could use the spot where I had parked, right in front. I trudged back through the snow and slush and moved the car - there were no other cars around and it was the farthest from the restaurant entrance. I went back and helped sweep up the lobby and supervise until almost 3pm, at which time Katherine and Lizzy (whom I was taking home) and I walked back to the lot, only to find the van gone.

I wondered if it had been stolen, but I first went to the McDonald's to ask the manager if they had called to have it towed, and she said the towing company just patrols the lot and always comes in and asks before towing. So we called the phone # on the sign outside and sure enough, our van was towed and it was going to cost us $349.00 to get it back. I asked the man, "Is there not even a bit of grace given because of the snow, since I only parked there because I could not get down the street?" "No," he said gruffly. "You parked right in front of the sign that says if you leave the grounds, you'll be towed. We have a picture that proves it." I thought to myself that he didn't have to be so rude and mean about it.

Once again, we trekked back to the school to call Sovann and ask Sheri to wait until our ride arrived. All I could think of was, "We have that money in savings, but it's supposed to go towards Katherine's braces." Everyone was very supportive - our CYT family showed true concern and compassion, unlike the tow man. I was frustrated because there were 3 other CYTers who parked in the same lot who did not get towed because they parked right in front of the restaurant. I felt punished for being conscientious enough to move my car to an unused portion of their lot. I also felt stupid and could not deny that I had broken the rule.

When everyone else had left, we gathered together and prayed. Then quite unexpectedly, someone (who would like to remain anonymous) offered to pay the fine, "no strings attached," she said. "The Lord has blessed us differently than you, and we can do this for you." At first I was embarrassed, then humbled, then relieved and then angry. "But you shouldn't have to pay anything, " I said, the tears now freely flowing. "No matter how unfair it seems, it is my problem to deal with and I was the one that caused it."

Sovann arrived with the kids (he had to wake Grace up from a nap and get them all bundled up in snow gear and into carseats) and the title to the car, and after talking briefly we decided we would accept our friends' very kind and generous offer. I hope we can pay them back some day, but quite frankly, I don't know when that will be possible. I took the kids home while Sovann got the van out of the impound lot (which also doubled as a wrestling tournament place).

As I was driving home with the kids, I thought about the Narnia musical and the story of "The Lion, The Witch and the Wardrobe." It struck me that friends were paying a price for us that we really could have and should have paid ourselves, but that would have dealt us an intense blow financially. It was our penalty to pay, not theirs, and just as Alsan gave his life in exchange for Edmund's, it was out of love that they gave sacrificially and not because we deserved or earned it in any way. I was convicted that lately I have come to the conclusion that Christ's suffering on the cross was somehow easy because he was God. But sacrifice of any kind is painful and costly, and may God forgive me for diminishing in my own mind the price he paid for me. Through puffy eyes and tear-stained cheeks, I shared my thoughts with the kids as we sat in our driveway.

Later, Katherine told me that a friend of hers pushed a wad of money into her hand after hearing of our situation. She said she gave the money back and said, "Thank you, but we'll be OK." I told Katherine that there was nothing wrong with giving the money back, but that part of being in community and living as part of the body of Christ meant having the humility to accept help when you need it. What if the family we bought Christmas gifts for came back and returned all the things we gave saying, "Oh, thanks, but we'll be OK." That would have hurt and robbed us of an opportunity to be Christ's love to them.

So I was wrong in my last blog when I said that giving sacrificially (and loving others) was what Christmas is all about. Christmas is also about receiving gifts and letting others (especially Christ) love you. This has been a very humbling lesson that I am still trying to choke down. You would have thought I'd learnt it this fall when the another family extended grace to us, or last month when God arranged a dream vacation for us via the goodwill of strangers ("Blessing"). I don't like asking for or accepting help; I am very stubborn and too self-sufficient for my own good sometimes. I just hope and pray I learn this time, because I don't know how many more of these "lessons" I can handle.

What Christmas is All About

Yesterday everyone got caught up on homework and got their rooms clean! It took all day, but boy it's nice to have a clean house. We decided to walk to the little strip mall near our house to eat out for lunch since it looks like we'll be trapped at home with no particularly special food for Christmas Eve or Day. I have some leftover chopped turkey in the freezer from Thanksgiving - hmmmm, what can I do with that?

Anyways, we all walked to La Costita for lunch and had yummy chalupas. Katherine and I dropped into BiMart where we met everyone else from the neighborhood with cabin fever. It must have gotten a little above freezing, because the snow was actually turning slushy in some spots. There was a little mini-backhoe trying to clear the parking lot at BiMart and quite a few people out driving around (with chains). Back home, we worked on the snow fort a bit more. I think we started the foundation too big/wide, because it seems like too much work. We opted for a snowball fight instead. Here's a shot of the kids sliding down our front steps, which are now completely buried in snow.

Sovann shoveled the driveway again and dug out his car enough to see if it would start. It did. We were so full from lunch that we opted for a late, light dinner of soup and butter flake rolls (mmmm, sorry Mom & rest of the fam - we were going to share these with you, but since we're stuck here...). Grace fell asleep in the living room floor with a pencil and pad of paper in her hand - I guess we all forgot about her nap time, and the droning news coverage of the snow (that has gone on and on and on) put her right to sleep. It put Sovann to sleep, too. ; -)

After dinner, we all watched Court Jester (with Danny Kaye and Angela Landsbury) and ate Jiffy Pop popcorn (the kind you do on the stove that puffs up into a big foil mushroom ball). Life is good - we might not have everything we want, but life is still very good for us. We thank God for providing for all our needs - so very faithfully.

Today our "adopted" family from the school where our church meets was able to borrow a car with chains and come pick up their gifts. It felt really good knowing we spent more on Christmas gifts for them than we did on ourselves. They asked to forgo toys, video games, etc. and just get them things they needed - warm clothing and work boots for the dad. On top of those things, we were able to throw in some nice hand-me-down toys and some yummy treats as well. We pray they will be blessed and feel God's love. What a privilege to be God's feet and bless a struggling family this year - THAT is what Christmas is really all about!

Amenities

Day 3 of our vacation held even more blessings. We attended a "Celebration of Thanksgiving through the Arts" service which was held by 10 Filipino CMA (Christian and Missionary Alliance) churches in the morning. It was a wonderful reunion with some of the ladies I had taught creative worship to at their women's retreat 2 years ago. Different groups from each of the churches shared different numbers, some leading us in corporate worship, others sharing musical talents. One boy played some classical guitar numbers, and a group of women did a beautiful interpretive dance. There were several solo piano numbers, too, along with a few words of encouragement and (of course) a wonderful potluck afterwards. MMMMMMM, I can almost taste the lumpia and coconut flan still!

Shortly after the service, we noticed smoke hovering over the church and ashes (some white and powdery, other black stringy flakes) falling around us. We got word that the "Freeway Complex Fire" was burning less than 3 miles away, and two of the major Freeways nearby were closed. It was very eerie to see only a sliver of blue sky on the horizon because of the blanket of smoke overhead. So the celebration ended abruptly and we decided to head over to the hotel in Newport Beach where the HomeWord banquet would be held that evening.

The Fairmont hotel staff allowed us to check in early, and we were given two beautiful adjoining rooms overlooking the pool. We took pictures of the rooms and drooled over all the spa products in the bathrooms. We passed on the $7 per bottle water from Fiji and giggled over the $22 room service mac-n-cheese. We did enjoy the plate of chocolates that greeted us - a chocolate-dipped strawberry, petit-fours, and a gold-airbrushed chocolate bar.

After settling in and ironing our evening clothes, Katherine and I headed for the pool. We had a refreshing dip in the salt-water pool (it was at least 85 degrees out) and relaxed in a private pool-side cabana while sipping iced water containing orange slices that was served on the deck. We couldn't figure out how to operate the flat-screen TV in our cabana, but back in our room, we were glued to live coverage of the fires.

Sovann went to meet the HomeWord folks who were setting up for the fundraiser that night, and they did sound checks and set him up with a lapel mic. We both got gussied up while Sovann's mom took the kids down to the pool for a second swim. She stayed with them during the banquet and they feasted on leftovers from the potluck. It was such a treasure for the kids to get to spend time with their Lola and it was so nice for Sovann and I to have the evening without the kids. Shortly before heading out, we heard a knock at the door, and a man stood there with another plate of chocolates for us. "An amenity for Sovann Pen," he said. Wow, I thought. Can it get much better than this? Well, I just had no idea.

We felt like we were entering a different world as we walked into the hallway where hors d'oeuvres were being served on silver platters by hotel staff walking discreetly through the crowd. Displays were set up showing the different facets of the HomeWord ministry as well as listing the various items being auctioned off that evening. Many couples held elegant-looking drinks as they mingled with all the other party-goers. The dresses were amazing - sparkly and graceful and I started noticing everyone had dainty black sandals. I tried not to think about my own white sandals and was glad my dress went almost to the floor.

We rounded a corner and found Cindy, Jim Burns' secretary, who whisked us away to get pictures taken. Then the moment Sovann had been waiting for - to meet and talk with Jim Burns became a reality. We posed with the host of HomeWord and resisted asking the professional photographer to take a shot with our digital pocket camera. Before we knew it, a waiter was strolling the halls striking a little set of chimes, announcing that "dinner is served."

We found our assigned seats (place cards were handed out upon arrival) near the stage and were thrilled that we were sitting next to Dean Bruns (the V.P. of Homeword who invited Sovann to speak at this afair), his wife, the other "testimonial" giver of the evening and a few other guests. If I remember correctly, one of the guests at our table was responsible for running the Sierra Club camp for teens at Yosemite National Park. As we took our seats, we opened our program and found a prominent picture of our family staring back at us. It was a bit fun being honored in this way, and a little embarrassing as all the others at our table found the picture and then realized they were sitting with us.

The food was amazing - sliced lime and orange were offered with our bottled water (sparkling or regular) that was served from private-label bottles. Salads were on the table, along with several baskets of assorted breads and both plain and herbed pats of butter shaped like little flowers. Waiters served dressing from silver gravy boats. The green salads were shaped into little bowls by thin cucumber slices, topped with something shredded (like jicama or radish) and adorned on the sides with sliced grapes and candied walnuts. I alone had more silverware at my place-setting than I usually set on my table at home for my whole family.

During the meal, several important HomeWord people were introduced and a couple different videos were played - each highlighting what the ministry was about and who they helped. The silent auction continued on such items as vacation packages, golf tee times and jewelry. There were two giant screens on either side of the stage on which a list of the highest bid for each item was displayed and updated continuously.

As the main course was served, we again refrained from taking pictures! It was the most amazing chicken I had ever tasted - a huge breast portion stuffed with a creamy ricotta and sun-dried tomato combination topped by a very subtle mustard cream sauce. On the side was wild rice, broccoli and asparagus and a parmesan-baked tomato. They were generous portions, too - I couldn't finish it all! Poor Sovann was too nervous to each much of anything. He felt a lot of pressure, especially since they had paid for our airfare, hotel and meal just to have him speak to these 250+ guests.

His time came to speak as Jim introduced him, and then I saw my husband speak as eloquently as I ever have. He shared how the radio show had helped him be a better father and husband, and how much he appreciated the practical and honest information the guests share each week. Sovann also spoke of how he often assigns listening to certain HomeWord podcasts to his counseling clients and shares the website resources with pastors, friends and small-group members he meets with. I was honored to be his wife and so proud of him speaking from his heart to these total strangers.

After that, Jim gave a plea for financial help - a difficult thing to do in the face of financial crisis and devastating fires. He certainly has a passion to help kids and their families, and we personally are thankful for how HomeWord has blessed us.

Dessert came next, which was an assortment of little dainties on trays - chocolate layered mousse cake, lemon sponge squares with fresh raspberries, pumpkin mousse tarts with ginger-snap crusts, and several kinds of petit-fours. I was particularly impressed with the little "card" on each tart which had pumpkin designs to indicate the flavor - turns out it was edible chocolate! We each tried a couple and then were (thankfully) given boxes to take the extras home (well, back up to the room for us to share with mom and the kids).

As we were saying goodbye, Dean motioned for us to come back to the table. "I have something for you," he said. I glanced and Sovann and thought, "What more could you possibly do?" Well, God certainly has taught us a lot about generosity this year, but now came the exclamation point at the end of the lesson. On top of everything else they did for us, Dean handed me an envelope with a thank-you note and a $100 gift card to Trader Joes! I said to Dean, "I'm not sure you will ever know how much you have blessed our family. Thank YOU."

When we returned to the room, Mom told us that Sinnary and Paul had taken the girls to their grandma's house because the fires in Anaheim Hills (where they live) were very close and they were preparing to evacuate. We ended the night enveloped in softness - feather pillows and fluffy duvet on a roomy king-size bed. I sleepily though, "Thank you, Lord, for another amazing day and please spare the homes of our family and loved ones here."

Putting out Fires

"That which thou dost not understand when thou readest, thou shalt understand in the day of thy visitation; for there are many secrets of religion which are not perceived till they be felt, and are not felt but in the day of a great calamity."–JEREMY TAYLOR.

Little did I know how this would be applied today as I read this out loud to J.J. during our lessons this morning.  Turns out that Grace was chopping her hair off while I was distracted with this reading, "Because I wanted to look like Mary Marvel," (the little girl cartoon character sidekick of  some superhero comic we brought home from the library a few months ago).  It brought back memories of when Katherine cut her eyelashes off when she was five years old.  Anyways, I trimmed her bangs a bit, which did little to hide the 1/2 inch chunk of hair that now sticks straight out from the top, middle of her forehead and left the rest to grow out on its own.  Not exactly putting out fires, but add that to the drama with Katherine earlier this morning (she's at home, sick with a cold today) and I felt a little wearied by the day so far.

As Katherine was taking Grace's hair-covered blanket outside to shake it clean, she heard a crackling and popping sound.  Looking into our neighbor's back yard, she saw smoke and flames.  She ran in and yelled, "There's a fire!"  I looked out our upper back bedroom window, and sure enough, there were flames 30 feet high, licking the trees in our neighbor's yard.  I called 911 while watching our neighbor attack the fire with his garden hose (which had very little effect).  

Having just come back from southern California where we watched homes go up in flames on the news, smelled the smoke and saw ash falling around us, I thought, "How could this happen here, in my backyard?"  They probably thought the same thing.  I told the kids to stay in the house and stay together while I ran outside to get my hose ready in case the trees in our yard caught fire as the blaze grew bigger and hotter.  I decided to wet down our wood fence since in CA we had seen how airborne embers were the cause of many new fires that destroyed so many homes.

My little stream of water seemed pitifully inadequate, but at least I felt like I was doing something.  Then Grace came running into the back yard.  I calmly screamed at her to go back in the house and stay with Katherine, feeling like a failure as a protective mommy.  The fire truck arrived minutes later and put out the blaze, and the only damage done was to some trees and the neighboring apartment's garbage bin where the fire started.  But I was quite shaken up, and I gave the kids quite a long lecture about the importance of obedience - especially in emergency situations.

I have now felt some of the same anxiety those in CA experienced as they felt the heat and witnessed the flames, and also the relief when the well trained and fully equipped firemen arrived to put out the fires.  Sometimes we just don't appreciate all we have - not only our relative wealth, health and abundance of friends and family, but also the privileges we have living in a country where help is just a phone call away, where neighbors help each other out, and insurance companies, churches and non-profit organizations help people in times of need.  How blessed we are!  Thank you, Lord, and forgive me for griping and forgetting to appreciate all you have blessed us with.

Blessings

So how is it that we are going to visit family in L.A., spend a day at Disneyland, spend a night in a beautiful hotel on the beach and be treated as honored guests at a banquet... all out of the blue?  When I think of all the ways God could have worked this miracle, I am in awe of his love and grace.  We could have won it in a drawing (we've entered plenty) or saved up for it ourselves (we've tried, actually, but recently lost all our savings including what we had set aside for a down payment on Katherine's braces).  But God knew the best way in which this blessing would also grow our faith.

Sovann loves the radio show called HomeWord.  Author and psychologist Jim Burns interviews various guests on parenting and family topics, giving practical advice and challenging wisdom.  A few weeks ago, Sovann emailed the people at HomeWord to share what a difference the show has made in his life and our family.  I'm sure they must get hundreds of these emails daily, but for some reason, Sovann's caught the attention of somebody which resulted in his message being shared in a meeting with the VP of the ministry, Dean Bruns.  It turns out that they had been planning a benefit banquet for some time, to raise money to keep HomeWord on the air across America.  Dean called last week and asked Sovann if it would be possible for him to fly down to Newport Beach to speak at that banquet, to give the supporters a real-life example of what effect their ministry has on families.  

It just so happened (well, really, I believe God had this all planned out) that Dean was flying into Portland that same week and asked if Sovann wanted to meet with him.  Sovann did, and they had a great time connecting on many different levels.  Dean said, "We'd be happy to fly your family down a day or two early so you could go to Disneyland."   Whoa, really?  Could that be possible?  That trip we started planning 2 and 1/2 years ago seemed more unlikely than it  ever had just a day ago, and now it might happen in just 2 weeks?

At this point, the trip became more of a reality for us, and we began to contact family members in L.A.  Sovann's mom lives about an hour and a half from where the banquet will be held, but it just so happened (well...you know what I think) that she would be in the neighborhood that weekend for a special multi-church gathering.  We also checked our calendars to make sure we didn't have any crucial commitments we'd have to cancel.  There were a few, some pretty important ones in fact, but our friends and church family were very accommodating and enabled us to free up the weekend.  

One commitment we would NOT have been able to get out of was the current CYT show, Anne of Green Gables.  If either of the kids had been involved as cast or crew, we would not have been able to go on this trip.  What an amazing thing to look back to September when I was agonizing over wether or not to let the kids audition.  God spoke very clearly to me that we shouldn't do the play, and I'm so glad I listened.  How great a lesson this is to the kids, too - we listened and obeyed God when he told us not to do something, and now we get to go to Disneyland as a family!

Being the practical accountant of the family, I was still thinking about the cost of food, transportation, and additional nights at the hotel, not to mention Disneyland tickets.  I just sort of prayed something like, "God, you're giving us free airfare to Disneyland's front door...now how are we going to get in?"  I figured that if we skipped all Christmas gifts completely this year, we might be able to afford Disneyland and the kids would understand.  But there was still lodging, food and transporation to pay for. 

Well, before I could even check our bank account balances, Sovann's adopted sister Sinnary (who happens to live near Disneyland and the airport we're flying into) emails to say we can stay at her place... and borrow their car.  Wow!  Having a place to stay and car to use is another answer to prayer, but staying with family we haven't seen for a long time (some of whom we've never met - both our families have had children since the last time we were together) is priceless.  The last time our family was in L.A. was for Sovann's fathers' funeral five years ago.  

I can't wait for all the cousins to get to know each other - poor J.J. will be the only boy among 6 little girls!  Something tells me he can handle it, though.

I didn't think things could get any better, and then...

I'm busy fixing breakfast for the family (a rare occasion - usually the kids get their own cereal) on Saturday morning and the phone rings.  It's Sovann's mom, asking what day we want to go to Disneyland because she's going to buy tickets with her USC employee discount as a Christmas gift to our family!  Another answered prayer.  Another blessing.  Another miracle.

Not only that, but on the morning of the banquet while we're down there, in nearby Anaheim, there will be a gathering of 10 churches for a Thanksgiving celebration.  This is so precious to me, because 3 years ago I was invited to a women's retreat to teach creative worship to the ladies of these same 10 churches.  I had an incredible time and was welcomed warmly by these women who fully embraced the dance, sign language and worship flags I introduced to them.  I have thought of them often over the past couple years and rejoiced when Sovann's mom would tell me of how they were using what I taught them and worshipping in their own way.  I can hardly wait to see and speak with them again, and to worship our amazing God together with them!

The beach is Sovann's most favorite place in the world, and we have not been to the beach (even the Oregon coast) as a family in years!  Sunday after church with Sinnary's family, we plan on visiting the beach - the California Beach before flying home! 

My tendency is to stress about everything.  Part of me is anxious about how the kids will behave on the plane, wether I'll remember to pack all we'll need, how we'll pay for food on the go, if I have the right kind of clothes for the banquet...the list goes on and on.  I just have to keep reminding myself of what God has already done for us - beyond this trip, but every day.  The fact that we are all alive and healthy and doing well with school.  That we have a warm home with plenty of clothes and food and amusements to fill our days.  That we are a family - an unbroken, loving, growing family.  These are all blessings that speak volumes of God's loving faithfulness in our lives.  How often do I sweat the small stuff and miss the blessings?  Lord, help me let go of the worries and just be thankful for my life.

Voices of the Earth

Today for school we read a story from the book, PARABLES FROM NATURE by Mrs. Gatty, published by T. Nelson & Sons.  I'm not sure why, but it just struck me deeply, and I was moved to tears in some places as I read it aloud to J.J.  The language can make it a bit hard to decipher, but it is just so rich and beautiful.  It makes for a rather long blog entry, but I wanted to share it nonetheless.  You can read other chapters from her book here.

THE VOICES OF THE EARTH

"Let everything that hath breath, praise the Lord."–Ps. cl. 6.

"WOULD that I could pass away, and cease to be!" murmured the Wind, as it performed its circuits round the earth, long ages ago. "Would that I could cease to be! Since the creation of man, existence has become insupportable."

"Thou art mad!" cried the Mountains and Valleys, over whom the wind was passing, with its outcry of lamentation. "Is not man the glory of the world, the favourite of Heaven? Surely thou art mad, or else jealous of the greatness of others–jealous of the masterpiece of creation. Oh thou, ungrateful and unwise, to whom is committed the privilege of refreshing the earth and its inhabitants, why turn aside to hold judgment and condemn? Enough that thou fulfil thine own appointed work, and, in so doing, exist to the glory of the Creator."

"Yet, hear me in patience," wailed the Wind. "It is for the honour of man, and the glory of his Creator, that I am so troubled. Hence comes all my misery. I, who know no rest but in His will, and once went on my way rejoicing,–I now am, of all creatures, the most miserable. Oh earth, with thy mountains and valleys, and forests, and fast-flowing rivers and seas, do me justice! Thou knowest it was not so with me of old, when I was first called into being. Thou knowest with what joy I roamed over thy confines, and beheld the universal beauty that then was spread around; how tenderly I whispered through thy flowers, how joyfully I carried up their fragrant odours as a thank-offering to heaven; how merrily I sported on the hills, or taught the branches of thy lofty trees to bow, as in obeisance to Him who made them! Thou knowest that I even failed not in due obedient love, when storms were needed; whether to drive the sluggish vapours through the sky, or rouse the sea itself to healthy action. When have I ever failed? Have I not always fulfilled His word? For even now, in these my days of misery, I carry out unwearyingly the great decree. Still I bear aloft from tropical seas, in ceaseless revolution round the world, those vapours which must descend in northern latitudes as dew, or rain, or snow. Still I labour–still I love to labour in the way ordained. But woe for me! another burden than labour is upon me now! Woe for the pollution I have suffered, since the earth was overspread by the wretched race of men! Woe for their civilised lands, which I must needs pass through! Woe for the cities, and towns, and villages, their haunts and habitations, which I cannot avoid! Woe! for I bear thence in my bosom the blasphemies of the multitudes, and am laden with the burden of ingratitude, denial, and doubt. Woe that I must spread these black results of misguided reason from pole to pole! Woe that I must carry up the jests of the scorner and the oaths of the intemperate, as incense from man to his Maker: from man formed in His image, and boasting in his faculties of sense! Oh that I could pass away, and cease from being! and that with me might perish these fruits of an evil heart of unbelief!"

"Thou hast numbered curses," breathed the Mountains and Valleys in reply; "and alas! that such should ever defile thee, thou messenger of blessing. But this is not all thou bearest upon thy wings. Other outpourings stream into thy bosom; other voices are wafted upon thee to the skies; other sounds are spread by thee from pole to pole. Hast thou weighed in the balance, against the utterances of the rebellious, the prayers of the faithful, the childlike, and the pure; the steadfast avowal of martyrs; the daily thanksgiving of saints; the songs of holy praise and joy?"

"Yet what are these but what are due, and more than due, ten hundred thousand fold?" exclaimed the angry Wind. "What merit can you find in these? How strike a balance between them and the unnatural sin which says, 'There is no God'? All His works everywhere have praised Him from the beginning: only among men is there silence and doubt. And shall the remnant take credit for not joining in their sin? Inanimate creation and the beasts have never swerved from their allegiance. What room is there for boasting in man? Has he done more than these, from the foundation of the world?"

"But he alone of all creation, with a free, intelligent will."–The words came up in soft response from the Earth, and spread like harmony upon the air.– "He alone of all creation, with a free, intelligent will. Merit there can be none, indeed; but acceptability–where can it ever be found, but in the free-will worship of a spirit which has choice? And if choice, then, of necessity, liberty to err. And with liberty to err, comes, alas! the everlasting contest between right and wrong. Yet why do I say, 'alas'? Obedience to a law which cannot be resisted is not the service of the heart–not the highest tribute to the Creator's glory. Far dearer to Him may be the struggle by which the human will is subdued to unison with the will Divine, in anticipation of that day when all its wisdom shall be made known. Have patience, then, with the contest between good and evil, so long as the good is accepted of Heaven; and while this is so, be contented to labour and to be!"

"Yet listen once again," sighed the Wind. "I have been jealous for the glory of the Maker, it is true, and troubled for the honour of man. But I am also wretched for myself. Oh Earth, Earth, Earth! The Creator has made His human favourite mortal! The mountains stand fast for ever, the hills cannot be moved, the very trees survive from generation to generation; but man–the chosen–passes away like a shadow; he cometh up and is cut down as the grass; I go over him, and his place knows him no more. Alas for the misery I am doomed to share! The breath of the dying has passed into my soul for ages; it is borne upon every breeze; it has tainted every air. I am filled with those bitter agonies, and loathe my very being. Would that I could pass away into nothing, and be as though I had never been, that so I might taste no more the vile dishonour of death."

"Thou judgest with the judgment of those who see and know but in part," came up the soothing answer from the Hills. "What, if the dying breath, which falls so sadly on thy breast, releases from its prison-house of clay some spirit more ethereal than thine own, some essence subtler far than thine, which thou must bear before the mercy-seat? Shall not the Judge of all the earth do right? Canst thou not trust the Almighty with His own? Why grieve for the last sigh of perishing flesh, if it be also the first breathing of a freed immortal soul? How rail at death, if it is He who strikes the chord of everlasting life?"

"Yet once more hear me, and be just," persisted the Wind. "Not the breath of the dying only overwhelms me with this wild desire to be at rest. The breath of the living who suffer on is even worse. The sigh of natural grief, which none can blame; the moanings of the afflicted in mind, body, or estate; the outcries of the oppressed and desperate; the shrieks of madness and of pain, the groanings of despair; all, all are outpoured on me! Those dreadful voices haunt me from all sides. This mass of human woe corrodes my soul. I meet it in the cottage, and pass through to find it in the palace; I rush from the battle-field to the cloister, but in vain! for no seclusion can shut out man from sorrow. Wherever the chosen creature is found, there must I gather up the voices of grief; for lo! as the sparks fly upwards, so man is born to trouble. Oh that I might pass away for ever, and cease to know the wretchedness I have no power to avert!"

"Yet wait, wait, wait," implored another whisperer from the Earth. "What, if in human sorrow may be found an answer to the riddle of human guilt? What, if amidst its saddest cries, thou carriest up the voice of heartfelt penitence on high? Wilt thou not weigh against the transient earthly grief the joy in heaven for one repenting sinner? Or, if amidst the mortal agony of the righteous, the triumph-songs of faith grow loud as those the angels sing round the throne,– 'Thy will, Thy will, Thy will–doing or suffering–Thy will be done;'–wouldst thou not fear to take away the one, lest the other perchance should fail from off the earth? Watch well the balance between suffering and its fruits; but while these rise acceptable on thee to Heaven, well mayst thou rest contented in thy work, and rejoice both to labour and to be."

"Yet is man–the favourite–of all creatures the most wretched," moaned the Wind, "since he alone must purchase happiness with pain."

"Unjust! unjust!" expostulated the Earth. "Thou keepest record of men's sighs, hast thou no consciousness of the unceasing breathings of simple, natural joys? Yet, number the one by thousands, and by tens of thousands of the other will I answer and refute thy words. The peaceful respirations of health, unnoticed and, alas! how often unthankfully enjoyed through years, count them if thou canst! Count them as they float to thee, while the night hours pass over the sleeper's head: count them when he wakes with the young daylight to a fresh existence. Count the laughs of frolic childhood. Count the murmurs of happy love. Count the stars if thou wilt, but thou canst never count the daily outpourings of common earthly joys. Alas for those who judge of life only by startling periods, and are deaf to the still small voices, which tell of hourly mercies, hour by hour!"

"Yet once more listen," cried the Wind, "for more and worse remains behind. The utterances of vice–oh innocent Earth, in whom the glory of the Creator is yet left visible to all!–I sicken at the thought of what I know; of what I bear unwillingly about. The loathsome words of sin–the lies of the deceiver–the prating of the fool–the seductions of the dissolute–the shouts of drunken revelry–the songs of the profane–the gifts of speech and thought misused to evil:–those voices horrible to God and man. . . . ."

"Be they as dust before thee, and thou as the angel of the Lord scattering them!" shouted a cry of indignation from the Earth. "Yet wait, wait, wait! For thyself, be thou still contented to labour and to be. Wouldst thou be wiser than the Judge? Wilt thou lose patience, while He yet forbears? No! watch the balance as before, and weigh the evil and the good. And so long as the prayers which the faithful pour on thy bosom outvalue the words of the scorner; so long as the blessings of the righteous float above the curses of the blasphemer; so long as the voice of penitence follows close upon the utterances of sin; so long as pious submission makes harmony of the cries of grief; so long as thou carriest up daily thanksgiving for unnumbered daily mercies; so long as souls of saints are breathed up to Heaven by death:–so long be thou contented to have patience, and labour and be."

"But should the day ever come," shouted the Wind in return, "when the balance is reversed; when vice, only tolerated now, becomes triumphant; when sin reigns on the altars, and no man pulls it down; when the voice of the good man's worship is drowned in the bad man's scorn, and I cannot lift it to the skies; when the wretched curse God and die, and men have forgotten to be thankful;–then, then at last wilt thou acknowledge the justice of my complaints, and help me to pass away in peace? Promise this, and till then I will watch the struggle, and be contented to labour and to be."

And the Earth paused and consented, and the Wind fled satisfied away.

L'envoi to the Reader.

And he is still careering round the world; still gathering "the Voices of the Earth;" still watching the struggle between good and evil. In our public walks he meets us face to face. In our private chambers he is with us still. There is no secret corner where he cannot come; no whisper which is not breathed into his ear. It behoves us well, then, to be careful, lest, by thoughtlessness or sin, we add weight to the wrong side of the scales. For if the balance should ever incline to evil, and the wind cease to blow,–what would become of the world?

Priorities

One of my journal entries is a list of all the "hats" I wear: wife, mother, teacher, chef, taxi-driver, personal shopper, accountant, gardener, maid, saleswoman, handy-ma'am, worship leader, graphic designer, prayer warrior, daughter, disciple, seamstress, etc., etc., etc. With so many things going on around me and so many voices vying for my attention, I often find myself paralyzed by the busy-ness. I feel like Gulliver, tied down by thousands of tiny strings, only instead of Lilliputians at each end there is a chore, an obligation, a person or personal desire each pulling me to the ground. Almost all of them are good things, but together it is just too much to deal with.

So I cried out to God and placed myself at His mercy. I humbled myself in His presence and asked for wisdom. His reply was this: "Seek me daily for priorities; I will lead you. Start with seeking me and I'll order your days. Press in. Pursue me. Build your life around the framework of ME. Make space for me. Let yourself be needy and choose to deny yourself the world's food/pleasure so that you can be hungry for Me."

OK, so I tried waking up every morning and spending 5 or 10 minutes in prayer, asking God what my priorities should be for the day. The first time I did this, God said, "Read to Grace, listen to Katherine and do what J.J. asks of you." I wasn't quite sure what this meant, but I took it seriously and started my day out looking for opportunities to do those things. That morning, Katherine started sharing something that was important to her, and instead of half-listening while cleaning up the kitchen, I stopped and gave her my full attention. At nap time, Grace asked me to read to her and I took the time to do so (even though I was tired and just wanted to get that next load of laundry going). And then later that afternoon, J.J. asked me to watch him do something on the computer. This was a hard one for me, because it felt like such a waste of time (after all, he was absorbed in the game and I was just an onlooker). But it was important to him, so I sat down and watched him for about 10 minutes. At the end of the day as I was sharing this with Sovann, I realized that because I had taken the time to listen to God that morning, I was ready to give what my kids really needed when they really needed it. Cool.

Every day has been different since I started doing this. Some days God has asked me to do very little, once even saying, "This is your day - you can do whatever you want." Other times He has asked me to set aside my whole agenda for the day which was extremely difficult for me to do. Once when I was running around on a Sunday morning, deciding what to wear, worrying about the guests we were hosting in our home, trying to second-guess what would please all the people I'd see that day, I had enough sense to stop and pray. God spoke powerfully and gently as a father chiding his favorite child, "Today is MY DAY, the Lord's day! Why are you kowtowing to the perceived whims of those around you? Consider what is pleasing to Me...and walk in quiet and humble confidence, knowing that you bring me pleasure when you live out of who I've made you to be. Let me into your day and let's walk together down the lane of these next 24 hours."

Somewhere in the past month or two, the kids and I spent a morning praying for our country, reading the Bible, and worshipping through music, dance and painting. I was blown away at how seriously and earnestly they participated, really crying out to God from their little hearts. Katherine said, "I don't know why, but I feel like painting," so I said, "Go for it! Paint whatever God puts in your heart." The first picture she drew was this, and she explained that it depicts all the things we try to balance every day. Again, I was amazed and blessed by the insight of my children!

Now I am starting to face a new challenge. Since school and CYT have started, and we still haven't finished painting the house (and you know we can't have many more dry days left here), and there are several other things I'm still trying to fit on my plate, I've found myself prioritizing my day the night before as I fall asleep. I'm feeling more frazzled and worried and paralyzed again and I guess I need to end my day asking God to help me prioritize and then start the next morning just resting in the knowledge that God's ways are better than my own. I am so glad that my God is good and faithful and wise and holy. I can trust Him like no other because He is perfect in all His ways.

Lord, help me to fight for time with you. It is a battle to push aside all the hats, all the demands, all the worries of life and press in to listen to your still, small voice. When I care to take that time, I can hear you clearly. But it's like the chickadee's song that I hear in my garden - I only notice it if I listen for it above the constant rumble of traffic and lawnmowers and construction and neighbors' voices. Keep singing to me, Lord, and forgive me when I forget to listen. Because your words are true and full of life and there is nothing so sweet as dwelling in your presence.

"In the Garden" by C. Austin Miles

"I come to the garden alone while the dew is still on the rose.

And the voice I hear falling on my ear, the Son of God discloses.
And He walks with me, and He talks with me, and He tells me I am His own;
And the joy we share as we tarry there, none other has ever known."

Love Notes

We were eating our oatmeal at the kitchen table this morning and J.J. started talking about why he loves me. "Mom, I love you because you teach me school more than Daddy and I just love getting hugs from you all the time and you're so warm and when I hug you it's like electricity-love flowing all through us." Normally, I might deflect that a bit or say something like, "Well, you have to love me because I take care of you." I also heard Sovann from the other room make a sound that meant, "What about me?" which made me want to prompt J.J. into saying all the stuff he loves about Daddy (thus downplaying his expressions of love for me).
I thought, "No, just listen and let him say what he's trying to express. He will have a similar talk with Sovann someday about how there's no one like his dad who wrestles with him and takes him to play tennis and shows him cool websites and yells at the TV while watching basketball games together." I mentioned how great it was that God created families to have a mom and dad, because when I'm sick or grumpy or busy, Daddy is there to take care of him, and he agreed.
Instead of redirecting J.J. any more, I said, "Thank you for telling me how much you like me. It makes me feel so happy." I told him how much I love him. I also said, "You know how good it feels when you get a hug from me? Well, when you get to heaven and get a hug from God, it will be like that times a million." His eyes lit up and I knew he got my point. I said, "God created mommies and daddies to help us know about how God loves us. So in a way, I'm being God's love to you." J.J. sat up straight and looked at me while his eyes got little puddles in them. Excitedly he said, "Mom, it's like God has a love letter for me and you're the envelope! You deliver God's love messages to me." Wow! I was speechless as my eyes got little puddles, too.
I talked to my Mom on the phone for an hour and 13 minutes (my cell phone told me) last night. She listened while I vented my frustration about the customer service at Wal-Mart and my stress and anxiety over all the broken parts of our house that we need a plumber for. It was so good to be listened to. She shared family news and told me all the stuff she's been doing with the Garden Club. I called to wish her happy mother's day, but I think I got more out of that call than she did. We talked about how hard motherhood is, and about the mistakes we both have made. I felt so much better after talking to my mommy.
God, thank you for mothers and tender-hearted little boys and precocious toddlers and beautiful, talented young daughters. Your love is in all of those miraculous relationships. When I allow my family to help meet some of my needs (physical, spiritual or emotional), I am loved. I am loved when J.J. turns on a worship CD at lunch time when I've been grumpy to him all morning. I am loved when Sovann mows the lawn. I am loved when Grace crawls into bed with me in the morning and warms her cold little toes on me. I am loved when my mom listens to me gripe and vent over the phone. The depth and variety and ubiquitousness of God's love is a mystery to me, and yet every day I am reminded - in the little things like Grace's giggles, J.J.'s hugs, Katherine's love notes and Sovann's loving sacrifices (did I mention he vacuumed the house and did the dishes for me yesterday?) - that God loves me. What an amazing delivery system God has created - I love all the "envelopes" in my life.

The Painted Veil - Part I

I was reminded this week again about how God used the movie The Painted Veil to speak to me last summer ('07). I liked the movie so much and it had such an impact on me that I asked Sovann to buy it for me (and I don't really like to buy DVD's). I've never really written about it, so I thought I'd try.

The movie is a love story set in the 1920s about a young English couple--a conservative doctor and a restless society girl--who marry hastily and relocate to Hong Kong. There they betray each other - he becomes absorbed in his work and she has an affair. Dr. Fane accepts an assignment in a remote area of China to help with a Cholera epidemic and requires his wife (aware of her unfaithfulness) to travel with him. They barely disguise their smouldering hatred for one another only to find an unexpected chance at redemption and happiness on the other side of forgiveness.

I was eight years old when I received my "proposal" from Jesus, and I accepted because I wanted what was offered. I wanted eternal life; I wanted to go to heaven when I die; I wanted God in my heart and my life to help and guide and comfort me. When Dr. Fane proposed to Kitty, he was enthralled with her (much the way God is head-over-heals in love with each of us), but he also knew that she didn't love him. He accepted that and proposed anyways. He wanted her for himself and was willing to risk rejection and humiliation for the chance at even a part of her committing herself to him. God does the same thing with us. He didn't wait for me to fall head-over-heals in love with him, get myself together, and grow to a maturity level that could understand all Christ sacrificed for me. "But God demonstrates his own love for us in this: While we were still sinners, Christ died for us."

Kitty wanted the adventure Dr. Fane offered. She wanted to get away from her family and experience something new. I think she hoped for romance (or some kind of love) to grow or happen with her new husband, but she was disappointed and quickly grew bored in that situation and relationship. In a sense, I "married" Christ and started living the life of a devotee, but I can't honestly say I loved Him or even knew Him very well. I don't think it mattered at the time. I wasn't forced into it - I happily chose it and have never regretted it. But I never even knew there could be more. I never learned in church about intimacy with God, and all I was ever told was to do X, Y and Z (being read the Bible, pray and go to church) and a blissful life of Christian happiness and prosperity would magically happen (i.e. God would "bless" me). I was doing all the right things, but I didn't really know, understand or feel loved by (or love for) my savior.

Like Kitty, I grew tired of what seemed to be a dull, empty facade. Disillusioned, it wasn't long before I looked to other things to bring pleasure, comfort and excitement in my life. I didn't have much luck with the social scene, and I found my niche (and got positive feedback) performing in academics and music. I was spared a lot of heartache and painful consequences by trying to follow the Bible and church leaders' advice on living a holy life, but it was a rather lonely path (I couldn't accept imperfection in myself, so how could I allow it in others?).

When I went away to college, food became my best friend. I had no problem turning down alcohol and I was so shut down relationally that I never allowed myself to be tempted by all the other "bad sins." Gluttony seems to be the most acceptable of sins within the church (potlucks, fellowship snacks and luncheons galore), so it fit in with the lifestyle I was living.

For years I outwardly pledged my devotion to Christ while inwardly having no real intimacy with my savior. I indulged in a torrid love affair with Pringles and pasta and fresh-baked chocolate chip cookies. I taught Sunday School classes and played piano for the church choir; I organized Bible studies and tithed without fail. When I was tired and empty from all that work, I ate for energy and comfort and pleasure. As my weight grew and my self-esteem shrank, I turned even more to food. But I also never fully turned my back on God. I still wanted his help and I truly wanted relationship at this point. I just didn't know how to get it.

I didn't even consider eating as a spiritual problem until a church weight loss program was advertised and I signed up. (I lost weight but became even more fixated on food because the program was primarily external/works oriented and didn't address any deep heart issues). However, I began to hear God whispering to my heart, "I love you...where did you go? I want you to know me better...closer...deeper. Will you let me in and let me love you?" I wanted to, but I didn't know how. And I was scared.

...more of this story to come later - this is getting pretty long already.

Why Public School?

Well, it's that time of year again where we fret and plan and pray and talk and try to get a clear picture of what we'll do next fall for school. Since Katherine was pre-school age, we've gone through this process and I can't say it's gotten any easier over the years. There is so much to consider and each child has different needs, strengths, wants and abilities. Then there are family logistics and constraints to think about(things like finances, time/space/resource availabilities, mom's mental health, and dad's work schedule). When Katherine was about to enter Kindergarten, I was praying and "heard" a clear message from God. I knew it was God, because it was so NOT something that I had even considered. I was reckoning what would be best for her; worrying about quality of education, social pressures, teacher qualifications, time spent away from the family, etc. But God put this in my head: "Katherine needs to go to public school for others' sake; because of her testimony to others." Wow...OK, God. I felt proud and humbled and scared all together.
Knowing that He is in control and that his will is perfect and loving, we took the leap of faith and enrolled her at Harold Oliver Primary. We met some great families there and Katherine had some wonderful teachers. She had some just OK teachers, too and was absorbed into a system that makes it so easy for "good kids" to get lost. She also brought home lice...4 times, and picked up some not-so-lovely attitudes from classmates (not to blame them, but still I would have liked more wholesome and edifying influences for my firstborn).
Still overall, we have no strong anti-public school sentiments and Katherine has done quite well in the public school system for five and a half years. I think the NEA may be somewhat misguided on their theories and practices of education, but mostly I just think public school teachers are amazing people who are asked to to deal with more than any human should have to assume responsibility for. I have great respect for teachers - almost every teacher I've ever met is incredibly dedicated to what they do and the people they serve.


Last week, we had a conference with Katherine's current teacher and she said, "Every once in awhile I have a student whom I need more than they need me. Katherine is one of those students. She's changed me." This was so encouraging and validating for us. I probably will never know exactly how or in what way Katherine affected her teacher this year, but I know it was positive. Sovann and I both have been praying all year for Katherine, asking God to use who she is and all her good and bad experiences to "speak" to others about God's grace.

Heaven

I just finished reading "90 Minutes in Heaven" by Don Piper. It was very interesting and inspirational. I think my favorite parts were his descriptions of heaven - I honestly have to say I believe his experience was real. It made me long for the day when I would be reunited with loved ones who have died (or may die before me) and exist in a place where there is no sin, pain, death or separation and be in God's presence. I loved what he said about the sounds of heaven:
"The praise was unending, but the most remarkable thing to me was that hundreds of songs were being sung at the same time - all of them worshiping God. As I approached the large, magnificent gate, I heard them from every direction and realized that each voice praised God. I write voice, but it was more than that. Some sounded instrumental, but I wasn't sure - and I wasn't concerned. Praise was everywhere, and all of it was musical, yet comprised of melodies and tones I'd never experienced before. If we played three CDs of praise at the same time, we'd have a cacophony of noise that would drive us crazy. This was totally different. Every sound blended, and each voice or instrument enhanced the others.
Many of the old hymns and choruses I had sung at various times in my life were part of the music - along with hundreds of songs I had never heard before. Hymns of praise, modern-sounding choruses, and ancient chants filled my ears and brought not only a deep peace but the greatest feeling of joy I've ever experienced."
He goes on in detail to describe the colors, the light, the streets of gold and the sound of angel's wings. His story is pretty amazing and you have to hear it or read it to believe it. I'm so glad Katherine bought this book as a Christmas gift - I really enjoyed Don Piper's story.

New Ways to Worship

I had sort of a vision (ideas flooding my head) today of a rather idealistic yet possible exercise in learning to appreciate different forms of worship. I think the Christian church in general has spent way too much time and energy judging what is acceptable and criticizing what is unknown or new or different in the area of worship. Fact is, worship is a very personal, intimate practice that is carried out in a myriad of ways. We worship through tithing, through acts of service, through letters of love and caring words. But what I write today pertains particularly to how we do corporate worship. How do we come together as different individuals and worship God together as one body?

I grew up in a conservative Presbyterian (liturgical service with hymns, responsive readings, choir anthems and doxology - mostly organ and some piano) and then Baptist (hymns and choruses, choir, special numbers with various instruments, etc.) church. I kept to the comfortable, "no raised hands" type of churches until after getting married, when Sovann and I both started feeling a nudge in our souls to worship according to some more radical (yet biblical) examples (kneeling, dancing, banners, etc. - passionately responding to God). I'm not going to go into all the "whys," but this website sums it up pretty nicely (even if it is just about raising hands). We visited quite a few different churches that had widely differing styles of music and services and enjoyed almost all of them. From that and other experiences (attending a worship conference hosted by a black foursquare church, reading "Daring to Dance with God" and "Surprised by the Voice of God," "Spirit-led" prayer with a group of amazing women who are brave enough to go wherever God leads them, watching my 4 year old learn ballet as a form of worship, learning sign language and wrestling with scripture just to name a few), I learned a lot.

I learned how important relational safety and acceptance (or at least non-judgment and grace) are to allow authentic worship. I realized that comfort does not always indicate, but many times is a sign of complacent stagnation. I had to let go of my own struggle for perfection and accept that worship is not about performing. I started to let go of my desire to please other people during worship and started accepting that God made me who I am because it pleased Him. I learned that some aspects of worship are learned and take time to ingest, and other parts are just a natural outflow of who we are.

After all this, The Pen family find ourselves curiously in a church that is predominantly a white, fundamental, conservative evangelical congregation...which all brings me back to my vision. I believe one of the reasons God has me at GBC is to dissolve away some of my judgmental attitudes and also to share/introduce new and different ways of worshipping (deeper and more authentic for me, and hopefully to some others, too). So here's what I thought of.

Once a month (or more often if desired), I might host a worship time open to whoever is interested. We would choose a style ahead of time and devote that meeting (and maybe a few consecutive meeting times) to focus on learning and appreciating that style of worship. Some ideas that came to mind were: hymns, banners, acoustic praise, a capella/chant, scripture songs, rock music, reggae worship, sign language, poetry/spoken lyrics, gospel music, different postures in worship, Jewish circle dancing, contemporary choruses, instrumental music, solos, silence/stillness, interpretive movement, etc. Some of these I could teach/lead, but others I don't have the ability or appreciation for but would love to try/learn. These are mostly musical/cultural styles and forms of movement, but some other artistic forms would be so exciting to explore, such as seeing God in nature (worshiping the God of creation) on a hike or road trip, and other visual arts such as sculpture, painting, photography, etc.

From my own experience, it takes time, a prepared atmosphere, and a certain learning curve to really be able to appreciate and enjoy any worship song or form that is new. So if I, for example, were going to embrace and enjoy Christian rap as a form of worship, I would need to listen to it, take some time to evaluate if I agree with the lyrics (are they biblical? are they true to my experiences? am I being honest in reciting them?), learn some song lyrics and rhythms, and sing them enough so that my focus is not just on learning the songs but on worshipping through them.

Appreciating a worship form (as a spectator) and entering in and worshipping through any particular form of worship are two very different things, too. The first takes discernment, a certain openness to that which is different and unknown, and a willingness to be uncomfortable and awkward as this new thing is absorbed. The latter takes faith, abandonment, security, risk, sacrifice and again, a willingness to be vulnerable . I am imagining all of this, of course, in a corporate environment; worshipping along is in many ways much easier. For some, it is easier to worship in a mega-church where it's easier to remain anonymous and "get lost in the crowd." For me, I prefer a more intimate gathering at a small church or in someone's home. When I first started using banners in worship, I could only do it when I was all alone with the curtains drawn and the doors locked. After much time and practice and (most significantly) inner growth, I am much more comfortable worshipping with banners or through dance or sign language anywhere that form is welcome/accepted. People generally learn best in an atmosphere of balanced truth (the unwavering standard of God's word) and grace (love, forgiveness and acceptance) where mistakes are allowed and encouragement is offered frequently and generously. I was not given much of any of those things, and yet God still brought me out of my scared little "safe" world into the freedom of authentic worship.

I think I yearn for connection as much as anyone else (even though I really treasure alone-time), and we learn and gain so much from each others' differences when we can come together in a nurturing environment and worship the same God as He intended. I think it must please God greatly to see his family loving each other and praising him together. So some day, I would love to see this "experiment" in worship happen.

"But for you who revere my name, the sun of righteousness will rise with healing in its wings. And you will go out and leap like calves released from the stall." Malachi 4:2