Imperfect

As I wrote yesterday, we all want to be loved.

Oh my, how much I love to be loved.

Don't you?

And we don't need to be perfect to be loved.

We all make mistakes. We all have faults. We all have weaknesses. 

I get impatient over dumb things. I freak out if my house gets too dirty, yet I allow my laundry to pile up until nobody has clean underwear. I neglect grocery shopping only to find that we are eating quesadillas and toast for dinner. I have little self control when it comes to buying books (that's why I don't go to bookstores). I struggle with self-discipline in planning my daily time out effectively. I have a weird fashion style (or lack thereof) that makes my husband and sister raise their eyebrows occasionally and tell me kindly that maybe I should try matching my clothes a bit better. I stay up too late and then behave grumpily in the morning to my sweet girl. I forget my friends' birthdays. I fall behind on writing letters. I get mad when I don't win a freaking board game.

I am imperfect. So VERY imperfect.

But I am loved anyway.

First and foremost, I believe that God loves me, and has loved me since the beginning of time. He loved me so much that he sent his Son to die for me so that my imperfections could be covered with the Son's perfection and I could be good enough through him to stand before God. He created me to be ME!

Secondly, but very importantly still, I believe that there is a group of people around me who love me in spite of my imperfections. They like me for my quirkiness, and either guide me gently when my imperfect self screws up or forgive me. Everyone needs folks like this who surround them with understanding! 

So the next time you want to beat yourself up for being imperfect, remember that you are loved anyway, and give yourself a little grace  :-)

~ Prompt for March 4th: Imperfect

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Participating in Write Alm's March prompts, daily words as guides for writing down what is in my head and heart. Entries might be long, might be short, might be posted here on the blog, or shared on my Instagram account. Do join me and others in sharing our thoughts with these prompts! I love seeing what you write. 

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A Christmas Miracle: Finding Jane

I wrote this true tale from my life almost exactly a year ago, but I loved it so much that I wanted to share it again as a testimony of how incredibly connected our lives are, all of us humans all over the world.

This is the story of a girl who loved music. Who felt in her bones that she was meant to be a guitarist, a classical guitarist, since she was four years old. Who waited both patiently and impatiently until she was eight to begin guitar lessons. Who was determined to pursue music in college, go on to grad school, and hopefully dive into the world of competitions, and maybe tour some day.

She gave up that dream.

Halfway through college, a book came into her life: Hidden Art, by Edith Schaeffer. One of her mentors (now a beloved best friend) suggested that she read it, because it spoke about the beauty of expression and art that can be found in ordinary life. One story stood out. In the chapter about music, Schaeffer wrote of a woman named Jane.

"I have told in "L'Abri" how Jane came to a place of certainty, after much prayer and struggle, that God was calling her out of opera, where she was having a tremendously successful career, into the work of the L'Abri fellowship. She was willing simply to cook, garden, scrub floors, talk to people, and teach the Bible. There is a place for the conscious sacrifice of the expression of a talent, asking God to show His will for the use of our lives in any way He plans- rather than insisting that it must be fulfilled in particular ways. It is a turning from or giving up- with complete trust that God really is love, and all wise, and would not waste the life of any one of His children... among those who have met in L'Abri [are] people who have chosen to put aside ambitions, and are simply enjoying musical expression without the desire for 'success'."

If you look at the picture below, you will see question marks inked across this page. When the girl read it, her world exploded. How could someone give up their musical dreams?! To mop floors? To SACRIFICE years of study, hours of practice every day for months and months, the fine tuning of a talent? WHY would you do that???

She and her friend discussed the possibilities at length several times. There was obviously a deeper turmoil going on in this girl's heart and mind. Recently the girl had begun teaching, a job she enjoyed very much, but one that she intended to use just as financial support through college until leaving for grad school. Maybe someday she'd pick teaching back up again, but the world of music performance called!

At least, she thought it did. Now she wasn't so sure.

Reading about Jane in "Hidden Art" planted a tiny seed of change. Now, instead of plunging ahead with her own plans, the girl began asking God to show her what His plan for her was.

Long story short: by the time she reached her senior year, she knew without a doubt that she was not meant to be a performer, but a teacher for children instead, a teacher in the same classical music program she had studied in when she was eight. It took months of prayer, listening for the Spirit, seeing her path change, watching opportunities come and go, realizing that she didn't really have the mindset it would take to make it in the competitive realm of music, and most importantly, discovering where her joy really lay.

Fast forward almost five years.

The girl was at a Christmas party, happily chatting with an elderly man, the grandfather of one of her new students. During the conversation the man mentioned that he used to live at L'Abri. And then went on to describe how wonderful the music was at L'Abri, especially when a woman named Jane was around. "Not the same Jane from the book by Edith Schaeffer?" the girl gasped. Yes, the very same.

The Jane whose operatic debut was on stage in Vienna. The Jane who was set to become a Wagnerian soprano. The Jane who spent some time at L'Abri to search for answers and felt the Spirit gently whispering to her that there might be another Path for her life, who finally found that she felt most satisfied by serving others, singing with handicapped children, and teaching at L'Abri. And more than just being satisfied: she felt that she was doing exactly what she was meant to do, created to do. She found joy. She found peace.

The girl blurted out her own story, how Jane had been a key to a new way of listening to God instead of forcing her own way. The elderly man nodded and smiled, then he reached into his pocket and pulled out his cell phone. "It's late, but I know her. She'll still be up." He dialed a number, listened to the ring, and spoke to the hello on the other end: "Good evening, Jane, my old friend. There's a young woman here, a classical guitarist and teacher for children, who would like to talk to you."

Tears filling her eyes, the girl took the phone. In the midst of the Christmas festivities going on around her, she was oblivious to all except the quiet, gentle voice of the eighty year old woman halfway across the country. Jane asked for her story. The girl managed to tell her of a Path changed, of tough decisions, of the pages in a book that inspired her to think differently, of a new life as a wife and mother that would have been hard if not impossible as a performing musician, of her love of teaching, of the incredible grace given in spite of so many mistakes.

"God will never waste the life of one who lays it down for him," Jane said, her ancient voice still deeply rich. "My dear, I am so glad that our journeys have crossed here! What a blessing to know that God always works in mysterious ways. We may not understand at the time what he has in store, but he always has a plan for our future good."

Passing the phone back, the girl cried tears of wonder. Now, whenever the question of "what if" arises, this miracle of a woman named Jane speaking across the page and over the phone, a living testimony to the incredible Providence of the Living God, echoes through her heart.

"And we know that for those who love God all things work together for good, for those who are called according to his purpose..."

Questions are Marked in the Pages of Our Lives

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To Love Is...

You said that I am like the ending
of Debussy's Homage á Rameau.
I say, "Perhaps I am."
For me, you are Beethoven's 7th Symphony,
but only the theme of the Allegretto movement,
two melodies interweaving and both
separate from each other yet mingled like
a drop of water and oil.

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You will not find peace in love.
There are heavy bags to haul
up and down the platform, slow
train whistle calling you out
before you're ready or willing to go.

You will not find peace in love.
All it takes is one little look,
an arrow that you can't evade,
the bolt of lightning from his eyes,
and all your world's unmade.

You will not find peace in love.
She hands you a bouquet of flowers
with a smile on her face;
you turn to thank the band, then back
find only stems wilted in your vase.

You will not find peace in love.
No rest for the happy or the tired.
Can't stand still in the middle of a chase;
when one of you is starting fires,
the other might just want some grace.

You will not find peace in love.
Right when you've got the strokes down,
the tide turns the other way,
but you've got to keep swimming
through evening and morning, night and day.

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To meditate on the divine is bliss,
rich food to satiate a hungry soul.
But busyness will often make us miss
that quiet time which best makes the heart whole.
Too often we despair of growing close
to Him who is our life, our help, our love;
the tasks abound, to-do list overflows,
our minds too weary for thoughts of Above.
 Yet moments of silence throughout the the day
or brief pauses in morning, or at night,
are pools of peace to re-focus, to pray,
to remember how to look for the Light.
The secret to living life at its best
is to trust that Love will be our rest.

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When I stare, you look away and ask "what?"
When I stare, you look away and ask "what?"
Tickle my feet until I shriek.
Tickle my feet until I shriek.
Shriek, and I tickle you. My feet. What look?
Ask, "until when"? I stare away.

Your brother's smile beautiful on your face.
Your brother's smile beautiful on your face.
Voice lilts, love, a little bird always singing.
Voice lilts, love, a little bird always singing.
Little face, your beautiful love. Smile lilts. Voice singing.
Your brother's a bird: always on.

Mind colors flutter, never still, yet you think and see all clear.
Mind colors flutter, never still, yet you think and see all clear.
Dark eyes of glory face the world, a half-way grin.
Dark eyes of glory face the world, a half-way grin.
Flutter, world. Mind you think! Glory never half-way still,
a grin and face dark yet clear. See the eyes of all colors.

You all tickle my world. See, stare,
yet the colors never clear away.
When you smile, singing lilts, a flutter feet glory grin.
Face always on, face dark until I half-way shriek... look.
Think, still. And what?
I love your brother's eyes, a little bird voice, and the beautiful mind.

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"And yet, because thou overcomest so,
Because thou art more noble and like a king,
Thou canst prevail against my fears..."
~ Elizabeth Barrett Browning, Sonnets from the Portuguese

If I am to love a man,
let him be the sort of being
for whom common men will never take notice
because he is the humble figure
doing the lowest work that is left undone.
Let him be such a man
as desires with his whole heart
to love, not me first,
but Him who created me, and not only
because I was created, but
for the reason of undying love
that is not a duty but an honor.
Thou art that man, my Beloved,
and thou lovest me with such constancy
that my quaking heart is free to set sail
with thy bright star as guide.





Poems: Selection from Star with a Red Couch, You Will Not Find Peace in Love, Looking for Light, Paradelle, and The Beginning of Story II.

Weaving words along with everyone else inspired by Write Alm's September Prompt-a-Day.

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Looking Ahead to 2014 and My One Word

Daily prompt #30: looking ahead

If I've discovered anything about myself this year, it's that I am way more organized and able to follow through with goals if I write them down, figure out the steps needed to accomplish them, involve others, and set specific times to do specific steps.

A lot of ideas came into fruition in 2013 because of this: a fundraising concert on my birthday for Compassion International, a novel written during National Novel Writing Month, letters sent all around the United States to friends, family and strangers, more mandolin playing, poetry published for the first time, daily writing habits established, health back on track, apartment organized and re-organized, and half of my 1,000 gifts list completed.

This isn't an I'm-so-good victory list: it's a sigh of relief and happiness that I had the support of loved ones and the energy to make my dreams come true! I couldn't have done all these things on my own.

For 2014, here are a few hopeful goals. If they don't all get accomplished, THAT'S OKAY. The world won't end. But it would be great to see these to completion!

~ Finish my novel (it's about 3/4 completed, and I did write 50,000 words, but it needs to have an ending, and I have promised a few people that they could read it)

~ Record a CD (with my family, on all our instruments... this is the crazy, insane, I-must-be-dreaming goal!)

~ Learn how to can food (my mom used to do this with us, so I'd like to make some tomato sauce, applesauce, etc.)

~ Finish memorizing all of Romans 8 (I'm about halfway there)

~ Go to the Botanical Gardens once a week (we were gifted a family pass, so it's free anytime now, woohoo!)

~ Publish more poetry or writing (in a magazine? in a book? who knows)

~ Write letters to the Compassion International child I help sponsor, every other week (I've fallen off the bandwagon badly with this, so it's definitely a priority)

~ Finish out my 1,000 gifts list by my birthday (it's taken me almost a year and a half to write down 500, but I'm intent on finishing this, and then starting a new list on my birthday, Lord willing)

~ Keep a list of all the books I read during the year (hoping this will help me keep track of progress, avoid reading too many of the same genre of book, and keep me motivated to read more)

~ More dates with Chris (once a week, hopefully? at the Botanical Gardens, preferably, since that's one of our favorite places to go)

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Grace was my word for 2013.

It was hard.

I learned how to show Grace to others, myself, and my family. I learned that if we do not give Grace to others, we cannot accept it for ourselves. I learned that if I do not believe in Grace for myself, then I cannot give it to others. It goes both ways.

It was good.

I feel less guilty, more free. I feel more aware of my twisted nature, yet more grateful for Grace that covers all my sins.

Grace.

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My word for 2014 is Deeper.

I've dipped my toes into a lot of ideas. A lot of projects, a lot of relationships, a lot of space. Now I feel ready to dig in a little. Or a lot. To refine my thoughts into more focus. To deliberately spend more time on specifics instead of generals.

This might look like more time away from this blog. Not sure yet.... it might look like more time writing through my pondering, here or less publicly.

I want to get to know and be comfortable with myself. Lately I've realized that I can categorize a lot of what I say into "Ego". I don't want that. I want to be genuinely Me, without feeling like I have to impress anyone, or stand up for myself against anyone, or pretend like I'm better than anyone. It's silly. And lame. I just want to learn Who I Am and then be able to sit back and Be, not Prove. There can be humility and happiness in Being; there is very little of either in Proving.

I'm also going to spend more energy on certain relationships, certain projects.

Especially God.

The older I get, the more I realize that I don't know exactly what I believe about God.

There are a few things that I do believe for sure. Those things would categorize me under the heading of "Christian".

But I don't truly belong to any denomination, even the denomination of the church I call home.

Maybe someday I'll be more brave to write about some of my wonderings. I have several friends who inspire, encourage, and embolden me to question what I believe while continuing to rest in God's unfailing love. As one of them wrote today, "when you feel safe, feel really safe, then you are not afraid to ask tough questions. [We] have found safety in Father's love. That is a great place to be. Because it is Him not our answers that make us safe."

So I'm going to ask my Father and trust my Father and learn more about Grace from my Father.

I want a Deeper connection with Him.

I want a Deeper connection with my husband.

With my daughter.

With my family.

With my music.

With my friends.

With nature.

With myself.

So here's to a new year, everyone. May 2014 bring renewal, lessons learned, and loving hearts!

Finishing up the daily prompts from December Write Alm! Thank you again, Amanda! Now I'm jumping into exploring my One Word. There will be more posts as I discover what Deeper has in store for me this year. I'd love to know what your One Word is!

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Beauty Found Anew

There are many reasons I follow the teachings of Christ. By follow, I don't mean perfectly obey, but rather that I find glorious hope and grace to change my selfish ways. 

This Easter was another beautiful celebration of Christ's resurrection. Rejoicing with my family and church, we had a delicious breakfast together, watched the little children have an egg hunt on the lawn, danced in the street (my favorite part!), and worshiped. Music and dancing are two of the deepest ways I am able to express my emotions, so using them in praise of God on Easter seems very fitting. 

I'm not much of a girly-girl, but my heart melted a little (a lot) at the sight of my Bug in an adorable dress. She is working on walking while holding on to furniture or our hands. Today she even let go of me to take two wobbly steps over to the couch!

My favorite photo of Harmony

Of all the things I've read and heard this weekend about the resurrection, this has stayed with me the most. The lovely woman who blogs over at Journey Mama meditated on the story of Mary Magdalene, the woman who saw Jesus first after he rose to life, and imagined how Mary's reaction might have been. Reading these words reminds me again of why I follow Him: because He Himself is so beautiful.

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He may have been the first person ever to see value in her, to love her. She was left unloved, without him. She had been out of her mind, before. A used-up, broken woman who talked to herself in the streets. You know the type, you've seen them. He healed her. She traveled with his followers. She stayed with Him to the end.

And she went to the tomb to prepare the body, but then her heart went crazy! He was gone. This was the absolute end of her. She only wanted to care for the broken, empty body. And it was gone.

There was a lot of running. Running to find the men, the disciples, running back to the tomb. (Cool air of the morning, sun rising in the hills.) The men saw that she was right, ran off again.

And from Mary, weeping. Despair. Anguish and the worst kind of loneliness.

I want to truly find that moment, capture it, live it, when he identified her and she knew him. After she mistook him for the gardener, all he said was her name, "Mary." And she knew him.

"Rabboni!"

Anguish to beauty. She would never be unloved again.

Although I'm sure she always had to remind herself of that. And that is what I am doing this morning in meditation. The garden, the cool of the morning. The dust under her feet, the rocks sticking out of the earth. The earth under her knees, her despair, and then Him. His face. His radiance.

In my life on this earth I have been asked so many times, why I follow Jesus. Merely stating that I do is enough reason for people to tell me why I shouldn't. They tell me of the travesties that have been done by Christians, they tell me of historical inaccuracy, of relativism, of how mistaken I am. I have loads (heaps!) of thoughts about all these things. I can talk, I can discuss, and I do.

But there is only one real reason that I follow Jesus. It is because of him. Because of his radiance, his gentle beauty, the sweetness of His WHOLE Being. My Guru, my Master. "Rabboni!" Mary said. This moment is overlooked sometimes, but is one of the most important of his whole life on earth. No other god, no other teacher compares.

Because in his most triumphant moment, finally justified as the One who could destroy death, the first thing he did was comfort a girl, a broken ex-prostitute who nobody cared about. It was the first thing he did.

~ Rachel Devenish Ford, at Journey Mama

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Talking to Myself Again, Eh?

When you're at the bottom of your emotional well, life looks so grey. The tiny ring of sky at the top of the well is far away. Every once in a while I fall down into sadness like this. Disappointment in myself, disappointment in others, worry about the future, frustration for everything that I'm not accomplishing: it piles on my heart, clouds my head, and I'm grey and want to curl up in a corner.

It's not the end of the world. I try not to exaggerate my hurt. Yet there is hurt, and to deny it is to merely push it off until it gets too big to ignore.

But the radio sends out a song whose chorus speaks directly to where I am.

And my father said,
Don't you worry, don't you worry, child
See, heaven's got a plan for you
Don't you worry, don't you worry now

Then friends begin to send words of encouragement. Words written, words spoken, words across the states. They remind me of what I know to be true. They tell me the truth.

My husband, dealing with his own disappointments, is the one who smiles first and points me back to the light. My daughter snuggles close. We all dance around the house to bagpipe music, celebrating Robert Burn's Day, enjoying delicious tatties and neeps and pretending that the burnt (experimental) Scotch Eggs don't exist.

Remember that voice I talked about earlier? Here's what it said:

You're faltering again.

I know. Typical of me, to fail when things look tough. I thought I was stronger than this.

It's not a matter of being stronger in your own might.

Oh really. Here's my sarcastic face. You're going to talk to me about Grace again, aren't you?

Isn't that what Grace is for? For times like this?

I was doing fine! Everything was okay! Then all this junk came flooding into my life and I got overwhelmed. I'll be better soon.

Do you want to simply feel better? Or do you want to become stronger?

Stronger, DUH.

Then take a good look at what it would mean for Grace to permeate all these areas of your life. 

Grace to others means that you can love them for who they are, not who you expected them to be.

Grace to yourself means that you no longer have to try to be perfect, because your own efforts won't save you, and you can find strength for everything you need by keeping your eyes on Grace Himself. 

Grace for the future means that you don't need to worry about what will come, since you are already cared for much more than you realize. 

It's not as easy as you make it seem. I can't just turn off the doubts in my mind.

No, but you can focus your thoughts on the positive instead of the negative. Like counting your blessings rather than wishing for what you don't have. Aren't you writing down a list of one thousand gifts you are grateful for?

Yeah, but... but...

Everyone gets discouraged occasionally. Everyone will let you down. You will let others down. You will let yourself down. Time to get back up.

Time to get back into Grace.

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Grace to Change

Grace is here. It seems to sneak itself into the tiniest places of my thoughts and actions and interactions daily. I pick up a book, talk to a stranger, turn on the radio... and Grace comes up, or something that brings me back to Grace.

Truly, I feel like I'm being saturated in what it means to live in Grace.

Not that I'm the one being graceful or gracious all the time. I still struggle with impatience. And all those other nasty faults of mine. But Grace is being SHOWN to me. Perhaps these moments are for learning what Grace means as it is given to me?

I'm currently re-re-re-reading a book called "Ordering Your Private World" by Gordon MacDonald. It's had a huge influence on me for the past few years ever since I found it. Definitely one worth visiting annually. It helps me evaluate how I'm living my life. Right now, I'm in the middle of studying the differences between being a "driven" person and being a "called" person.

A driven person...

... is most often gratified only by accomplishment.

... is preoccupied with the symbols of accomplishment.

... is usually caught in the uncontrolled pursuit of expansion (more success, bigger gains).

... tends to have a limited regard for integrity.

... is not likely to bother themselves with the honing of people skills.

... tend to be highly competitive. 

... often possesses a volcanic force of anger (which often erupts against opposition or perceived disloyalty).

... is usually abnormally busy, is averse to play, and usually avoids spiritual worship/contemplation.

A called person...

... understands stewardship, that the things we have are not 'owned', but merely managed in the name of the One who gave them.

... knows exactly who they are and who they are not, and is able to separate 'role' from 'person'.

... possesses an unwavering sense of purpose because he or she does not seek for outside approval. 

... practices unswerving commitment, while understanding that some day, some things will need to be released and let go.

This is what I've been reading so far in the book. Of course, it's not as simple as these basic outlines here describe. I highly recommend "Ordering Your Private World" for anybody and everybody to read for themselves.

It's frustrating to look back five years, two years, last year, and realize how much time was wasted, and how much I didn't change for the better because I didn't strive hard enough for it.

The older I get the more difficult it is to change my faults into positive character traits. And the more damaging my sinful behaviors become to those around me and my own soul.

Thank goodness I don't have to do it on my own.

Sitting still with Psalm 103 today as the words "the Lord is merciful and gracious, slow to anger and abounding in steadfast love" sink into my heart.

"I want first of all... to be at peace with myself. I want a singleness of eye, a purity of intention, a central core to my life that will enable me to carry out these obligations and activities as well as I can. I want, in fact - to borrow from the language of the saints - to live 'in grace' as much of the time as possible. I am not using this term in a strictly theological sense. By grace I mean an inner harmony, essentially spiritual, which can be translated into outward harmony. I am seeking perhaps what Socrates asked for in the prayer from the Phaedrus when he said, 'May the outward and inward man be one.' I would like to achieve a state of inner spiritual grace from which I could function and give as I was meant to in the eye of God."

~ Anne Morrow Lindbergh, wife of Charles Lindbergh, in her book The Gift from the Sea

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Word of 2013, and Day #30 of the December Photo Project

You can struggle against what you hear being whispered into your ear, or you can accept it peacefully, even if you might wish you were hearing something else.

My Word for 2012, Trust, came easily. I was happy to welcome it. Looking back, if I'd known how hard Trust would prove to be, I might have been more reluctant. But it was a good year, an important Word for my life, and much good came from it. 

During these last few weeks I've had ideas of what my Word could be for 2013. And then, in the midst of my pleasant musings, a conversation began in my mind. It was something like a prayer, something like my conscience, and something like soul-talk with God.

             ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Which of these Words I've laid out should I choose? I want it to be full of power, full of meaning! It needs to be an area of growth, and an area where I can explore what God created me to be. A Word to help refine my character. A Word that will --

Grace.

No, not that. Too generalized. Not what I need to focus on. Booooooring.

Grace, Lyssa.

What? I don't want that. I've got grace down already. I want to choose something else, something that will really bring change!

You already know Grace fully?

Um... well... no. But there are lots of other things I'd rather know more! 

You need Grace.

Sigh. That's true. I probably need to learn how to GIVE Grace also. 

Everyone needs Grace.

Are you saying that Grace is related to love? 

And gentleness. And compassion. 

Ugh. I'm not so good at those things. I was trying to stay away from those. Can't I save Grace for another year, when I maybe won't have a toddler around, or when I've built up my skin a bit tougher to the world first?

Grace comes best when it is undeserved.

I knew you were going to say that. Grace probably means working on patience, too. Another thing I lack. 

Grace covers many things.

I thought choosing a Word was supposed to be simple. You're making this hard. Now if I don't choose Grace, I'll feel secretly guilty all year. 

Why do you run away from Grace?

Because it makes me uncomfortable! I'm not Graceful, or Gracious, or Grace-giving. I'm clumsy, foot-in-mouth, judgmental, stubborn, and... stubborn. Lots of stubbornness. 

Looks like Grace is more needed than you thought.

Hmmm.

Grace.

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Look out, 2013. Here Grace and I come. 

You can struggle against what you hear being whispered into your ear, or you can accept it peacefully. And even if you wish you were hearing something else, it might be exactly what you need. 

Meets Us Where We Are

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What Do We Really Want?

There was such a good article in today's church bulletin that I had to post an excerpt from it here. It's from "Heaven: The Heart's Deepest Longing", by Peter Kreeft (1980). I've been thinking about it all day, and I hope it will provoke as much thought in those who are tolerant enough to read my blog : )

"There is a very old wisdom, quite out of fashion today, that says we are not supposed to be happy here. In fact, no one is really happy here, and the "pursuit of happiness", which the American Declaration of Independence declares one of our "inalienable rights", is in fact the silliest and surest way to unhappiness. This is a wisdom...not just from the past but also from within, from the soft spot in us that we cover up with our hard surface, from the vulnerable little child in us that we mask with our invulnerable adult. Our adult pretends to want pleasure, power, wealth, health, or success, then gets it, then pretends to be happy. But our child knows what we want- nothing less than infinite joy- and, as children, we know we don't have it.

No one is really happy. The phenomenon is universal, not peculiar to some temperaments, for it is not a matter of temperament or feelings, which always undulate like waves. (We are all somewhat manic-depressive.) Beneath this surface, beneath the waves of satisfaction alternating with dissatisfaction of surface desires, the deep hunger of the heart remains unsatisfied. ...It is precisely when life treats us best that the deepest dissatisfaction arises. As long as we lack worldly happiness, we can deceive ourselves with the "if only" syndrome: if only I had this or that, I would be happy. But once we have all our thises and thats and are still unhappy, the deception is exposed. That's why rich and powerful modernity is not happier than previous cultures. That's the answer to Freud's question: "Why aren't we happy?"

Our greatest bitterness comes not only in the sham sweetness of riches and power but also in the middle of our truest earthly sweetness: hearing a symphony, seeing a sunset, complete sexual love. It is highest life that sets us longing for something more than this life..."

Also, there was an awesome quote in church today, by Confucius. "There are three ways to wisdom. The first is by reflection, and that is the hardest. The second is by imitation, and that is the easiest. The third is by experience, and that is the bitterest." Then my pastor added, "but I would also add that wisdom gained by experience is by far the most precious".

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You Anoint My Head With Oil, My Cup Overflows

Blessings Of the Week

Moving into a beautiful apartment- Thank you, Lord, for the dishwasher, the ant-free kitchen, the clean carpet, the tiny balcony where I can continue to grow my tomatoes and herbs, the friends who helped us move, the absence of thunderstorms and rain for exactly three and a half days it took us to move, the long staircase that will give me a work-out every day, the swimming pool in the complex, the cheap laundromat one building away, and the nest of baby birds outside the window.

Fellow musicians- Thank you, Lord, for the joy of playing music with friends, outdoors in your creation. For the relaxing hours lying in the grass with guitars, singing, deep discussions about You and why You can be an anchor in a free-floating culture, and the fellowship of believers, thank you.

Musical opportunity- Thank you, Lord, for providing me with a great duet partner, who pushes me to do my best, never accepting mediocre. Thank you also, Lord, for the sudden surprise of Mozart-Man getting into the St. Louis Symphony Chorus. What an honor, at twenty-one, to sing with such a great group of musicians!

Close calls- Thank you, Lord, for all the times you protected me this week from potentially dangerous or stupid situations. The time when I was out riding my bike back from the bike shop and a huge storm came up with the tornado sirens going off. The time when the door almost hit me in the face, and if it had, I would have been knocked out cold, alone in the apartment. The time when I almost slipped and fell in the old house while standing on a chair removing nails. The time when I almost crashed my car because I was so tired and not paying attention to the young family in the car driving in my blind spot. The time yesterday when I forgetfully left a candle burning in the kitchen, then went and ran errands, and You didn't let the apartment catch on fire.

Communication- Thank you, Lord, for the myriad of ways to communicate in this day and age. Writing letters to my sister, sending cards for holidays, emailing old friends, calling my mom on the phone...there are so many avenues. Thank you especially for yesterday, when I was able to talk to someone who I hadn't been able to talk to for a whole year, whose very presence used to annoy me, and thank you for the change of heart that showed me how stupid I was and Your grace that led me to speak with that person and actually enjoy it.

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Joe the Dreamer

This is a picture of Mozart-Man walking in our favorite park back in Ohio, about this time last year. I love this picture.

Everyone's heard of the story of Joseph and the coat of many colors. I've been re-reading the book of Genesis lately, and came across Joseph meeting his brothers in Egypt after many years. His brothers had sold him into slavery, left him for dead, and hated him, but after all that, Joseph is able to accept them and care for them. How is this possible? Here is Joseph's answer:

"...Now do not be distressed or angry with yourselves because you sold me here, for God sent me here before you to preserve life. For the famine has been in the land these two years...and God sent me before you to preserve for you a remnant on earth, and to keep alive for you many survivors. So it was not you who sent me here, but God."

Even though nasty things happen to people, God will use them for His own purposes and bring good out of evil. This is something I need to keep reminding myself. Everything in life will work out for the glory of Him who reigns in spite of man's attempts to thwart God's purposes.

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