God doesn't tend to repeat Himself without a reason. So when something comes up again, it's an unmistakable signal to straighten up and fly right, no?
So, what command does He repeat most?
"Do not be afraid."
The reason?
"I am with you."
But friends, this is not a few sentences He left for us to needlepoint on pillows to give us warm fuzzy feelings whenever we look at them (though I have nothing against needlepoint, and neither does God).
No, this is a COMMAND. Not an option. Fear is actually sin. Thus, fear, as sin, must be resisted to the point of bloodshed.
In a very good book called Following Jesus by Bible scholar N.T. Wright, the author writes, "Fear is the air we breathe." And he's right. I can trace almost all my sin to either fear or pride, which I'm beginning to suspect are two sides of the same coin.
Don't say that. They'll laugh at you.
Don't try that. You might fail.
What if I get hurt? What if nobody cares? What if it is all for nothing?
Fear. Living in fear is like breathing carbon monoxide. We're not meant for it, but it's so pervasive we don't notice it. And after a while, it kills us.
But.
"I am with you."
He is, as Wright points out, "the God who raises the dead." THE GOD WHO RAISES THE DEAD!!! So, if we truly believe in the doctrine of the Resurrection, we know that it's all going to be alright. And unbelievably, He is with us!
Friends, there is nothing to be afraid of. NOTHING to be afraid of. It won't be easy. But it's sin to fear. Let's fight for pure air to fill our fear-poisoned lungs. Because the battle's won. This is all just a little mop-up skirmish. They can't touch us. It's all going to be alright.
Deep breath.
Ready?
Go.
Thursday, April 2, 2009
Friday, March 6, 2009
As if I saw the homelights burning
Wow, do I miss Washington! All of a sudden, homesickness hit me so hard that I sympathize with Wile E. Coyote after the Road Runner drops the Acme anvil on him. I miss the green, friendly trees. There is nothing so thoroughly kindred-spiritly (no, that's not a word) as a forest.
I miss the ocean, in all her mystery and charm. I miss going down to visit with her (that is, the sea), sitting on the rough sea rocks and just listening.
Although the woods are not without their mystery, I seem to remember reading somewhere that, as lovely as the sea is, we flee to the woods to tell our secrets. With the sea we can only listen.
I miss just looking out at the sky (even when it's grey). I miss the glory of Pacific Northwest sunrises and sunsets, so rich I feel I could drink of them.
I miss driving home from work and seeing my mountain the whole way. In the spring and summer, my mountain stands out against the impossible blue of the Washington sky with sharp, jagged white edges. In the grey (which actually is a season in WA!), it sleeps wrapped in the clouds.
I even miss the smell of the air. Right before it rains. While it's raining. After it rains. :) Ok, it's true, I've got it bad. I am phenomenally blessed to live in such a truly gorgeous part of the world. Even if does insist on snowing randomly. It's still beautiful!
But that beautiful place would be nothing without the people there who fill it for me. Thank you all. Thank you for loving me, for laughing with me, for spurring me on to love and good works. I love you. Vive le Pacific Northwest! ;)
Sunday, January 11, 2009
Patience: They say it's a virtue...
...but who are "they" anyway!?
This morning in church, the pastor said something in passing that sparked an explosion in my brain. And I sat there thinking, "I have something to write about in my blog!" Here goes:
As a follower of Christ, I am called to be a servant to all, to be humbly content to be useful, not noticed. It is easy to serve when people smile and thank you and exclaim over how kind and humble one is (though I doubt I'm still humble after I've been told I am!). But when I encounter someone who expects my service as their divine right, my heart rebels vehemently. When I've been quietly serving someone as my Lord has asked, and instead of taking notice of my sacrifice on their behalf, they childishly demand more, I'm inclined to make an impact on their lives with my fists instead of with open, serving hands.
In the service today, Pastor Miller mentioned the way the children of Israel had treated God. He heard their cries of deep distress and delivered them from Egypt, leading them by His very presence! They yelled, "Hey, what are You thinking? We're gonna die out here without water!" and He gave them water. They complained that they were hungry, and He sent them food from heaven! "Garcon! We're tired of this gross manna stuff. How bout some meat?" He sent quail. Oh, they needed water again. So they screech, "Hey! God! A little water?" And again, He gave it to them. I don't know about you, but by this time, I would have been a little tired of being treated so badly. Though the Eternal One has taken care of every need, no matter how small, the people continually complain and doubt. They begin to take His goodness for granted, and to mistrust that He will provide. They demand their due as petulant, hardhearted children, and He patiently and lovingly cares for them. Just sit and think about that for a minute. My words are weak to describe the incredible paradox therein.
Of course, I don't advocate an unhealthy attitude of allowing people to walk all over one. But often the things at which I take umbrage are nothing more than affronts to my vanity. A favorite (and loosely paraphrased) quote from Charles Swindoll is "The true test of a servant's heart is how you react when someone treats you as a servant." I think that is particularly difficult for us Americans. Anyway, I was pretty much knocked on my tuckus by that beautiful and blinding flash of the obvious. Praise the Lord! May it sink in deep and take root, and may we be better, humbler servants.
This morning in church, the pastor said something in passing that sparked an explosion in my brain. And I sat there thinking, "I have something to write about in my blog!" Here goes:
As a follower of Christ, I am called to be a servant to all, to be humbly content to be useful, not noticed. It is easy to serve when people smile and thank you and exclaim over how kind and humble one is (though I doubt I'm still humble after I've been told I am!). But when I encounter someone who expects my service as their divine right, my heart rebels vehemently. When I've been quietly serving someone as my Lord has asked, and instead of taking notice of my sacrifice on their behalf, they childishly demand more, I'm inclined to make an impact on their lives with my fists instead of with open, serving hands.
In the service today, Pastor Miller mentioned the way the children of Israel had treated God. He heard their cries of deep distress and delivered them from Egypt, leading them by His very presence! They yelled, "Hey, what are You thinking? We're gonna die out here without water!" and He gave them water. They complained that they were hungry, and He sent them food from heaven! "Garcon! We're tired of this gross manna stuff. How bout some meat?" He sent quail. Oh, they needed water again. So they screech, "Hey! God! A little water?" And again, He gave it to them. I don't know about you, but by this time, I would have been a little tired of being treated so badly. Though the Eternal One has taken care of every need, no matter how small, the people continually complain and doubt. They begin to take His goodness for granted, and to mistrust that He will provide. They demand their due as petulant, hardhearted children, and He patiently and lovingly cares for them. Just sit and think about that for a minute. My words are weak to describe the incredible paradox therein.
Of course, I don't advocate an unhealthy attitude of allowing people to walk all over one. But often the things at which I take umbrage are nothing more than affronts to my vanity. A favorite (and loosely paraphrased) quote from Charles Swindoll is "The true test of a servant's heart is how you react when someone treats you as a servant." I think that is particularly difficult for us Americans. Anyway, I was pretty much knocked on my tuckus by that beautiful and blinding flash of the obvious. Praise the Lord! May it sink in deep and take root, and may we be better, humbler servants.
Update on classes and such
It's been a rough week. And it's been a good week. It's been hard to be back. I've been missing home and the people there very much, and loathing the necessity of plunging back into the Land of Stress and Sleeplessness. But ya know, those are choices, and by God's grace, I will choose to be neither stressed nor sleep-deprived this semester!
My classes look pretty good. Still a toss-up whether they'll be difficult or not. But the good news is, this is my fourth and last semester of Theory and Aural Skills! I also have Diction for Singers II (where I'll learn to pronounce French and German properly by learning the phonetic rules for the respective languages and using the symbols of IPA, the International Phonetic Alphabet; there's a separate class, which I'll take next fall for Italian and Latin); New Testament Literature; Introduction to Music Literature; Concert Chorale; Vocal Arts Ensemble; Opera Ensemble; and my private voice lessons.
My classes look pretty good. Still a toss-up whether they'll be difficult or not. But the good news is, this is my fourth and last semester of Theory and Aural Skills! I also have Diction for Singers II (where I'll learn to pronounce French and German properly by learning the phonetic rules for the respective languages and using the symbols of IPA, the International Phonetic Alphabet; there's a separate class, which I'll take next fall for Italian and Latin); New Testament Literature; Introduction to Music Literature; Concert Chorale; Vocal Arts Ensemble; Opera Ensemble; and my private voice lessons.
Saturday, December 6, 2008
We do a lot of living in a semester
We're coming round the homestretch. Just a week of finals and then home! I still have finals, but I feel as if all the really stressful things are over. The written aural skills final and my group fugue presentation both went well, and I felt as if my jury was a success. I still haven't gotten my jury sheet back, though, so I don't actually know my grade for that. So just a little while longer at we're gone. And then we come back to do it all again.
I can't wait to see you all at home! I've missed you all so terribly. I'm sorry I'm not always the best at communicating, especially via the blog (a tendency I'm striving to remedy!), but I want you to know I love you guys and miss you and pray for you.
I was realizing this afternoon as I sat in my friend's junior percussion recital, that I'm practically done. Ok, not really. But the time goes so fast. At the beginning of freshman year, Mrs. Porter (chair of the music dept.) told us that we only really had 120 weeks of school to learn everything we needed to learn from here. I pray that God enables me to make the most of it, academically, musically, relationally, and most of all, spiritually. When the seniors told me that it goes by fast, I didn't believe them. But now I see what they meant. And I also see how much happens in just a short time. Dad calls college a pressure cooker, because everything is intensified.
I praise God that I am able to go to a school where the president sits and reads the student body children's Christmas books, where the faculty invest heavily in their students personally, spiritually, and academically, and where there exists a rare phenomenon of a music department full of people who love, encourage, and look out for one another. At many schools or conservatories with comparable music programs, it isn't uncommon for one violinist to try to trip another so she'll break her arm and be unable to play, or for one vocalist to play mind games with another to psych him out in a vocal competition.
Well, it's 1:30 in the morning. And I should be in bed. Thanks for listening to my ramblings. Soli Deo Gloria. I'll see you at home.
I can't wait to see you all at home! I've missed you all so terribly. I'm sorry I'm not always the best at communicating, especially via the blog (a tendency I'm striving to remedy!), but I want you to know I love you guys and miss you and pray for you.
I was realizing this afternoon as I sat in my friend's junior percussion recital, that I'm practically done. Ok, not really. But the time goes so fast. At the beginning of freshman year, Mrs. Porter (chair of the music dept.) told us that we only really had 120 weeks of school to learn everything we needed to learn from here. I pray that God enables me to make the most of it, academically, musically, relationally, and most of all, spiritually. When the seniors told me that it goes by fast, I didn't believe them. But now I see what they meant. And I also see how much happens in just a short time. Dad calls college a pressure cooker, because everything is intensified.
I praise God that I am able to go to a school where the president sits and reads the student body children's Christmas books, where the faculty invest heavily in their students personally, spiritually, and academically, and where there exists a rare phenomenon of a music department full of people who love, encourage, and look out for one another. At many schools or conservatories with comparable music programs, it isn't uncommon for one violinist to try to trip another so she'll break her arm and be unable to play, or for one vocalist to play mind games with another to psych him out in a vocal competition.
Well, it's 1:30 in the morning. And I should be in bed. Thanks for listening to my ramblings. Soli Deo Gloria. I'll see you at home.
Tuesday, December 2, 2008
As a Ransom for Many
The pastor of the church I’ve been attending here at school said this morning that “The world has the right to look at us and how we love each other and how we love them and see Jesus.” Well, do they?
Nope. Not in my life. I spend much more of my time fretting about my relationships with my friends. Does this person really wants me around or are they’re just being nice? Did what I just said sound completely dweebish? Which set of friends I should hang out with on Friday night? But here’s what my focus should be. How can I serve them? Can they see You in the way I treat them? If I can learn to think this way, then I will start really being a friend.
In the same way, we as Christians get the opportunity to live our lives in imitation of Christ, no? So, if “even the Son of Man did not come to be served, but to serve, and to give His life a ransom for many” (Mark 10:45), isn’t that my mission as well? Would it not be my honor if I were allowed to shed my blood in service to my friends? I’m not sure on this. I’d appreciate your input. It seems logical and Scripturally supported, but I’m very willing to be wrong!
I am not saying that I want to be crucified. I’m not saying that I think my “righteousness” such as it is can save my friends. I’m not trying to actually be Christ. But I think that I am to dedicate my life to Him in such a way that I have a similar ministry, one in which my life, my desires, my goals, are forfeit to His. And in this forfeit, I lose nothing but the trash I think precious. His goal for me is to be like Him. And a huge part of that is service, pouring out my lifeblood to fight for souls and heal hearts and bodies. The death I am privileged to die may not be a death of body, but it will certainly be the chance to die to Me as often as necessary.
So, what am I waiting for?
I’m scared. But I’m praying. Something must be done. It would be so easy for me to get a good job, find a nice boy, and settle down to satisfy myself in what I think I want. And maybe those things are part of what God has for me. But must not the real heart of my life be serving Him, being a vessel for His work in the world? Lord, may I never numb my conscience. How could I use these great blessings only on myself? No! I am one of the richest people in the world. And I will answer to God for how I’ve used it. Father, help me to possess nothing, as Tozer puts it. Thank You for the great blessings you’ve given me. A beautiful, safe, healthy home in a gorgeous part of the world. A wonderful family who love You. All the people who make my life beautiful by being in it. Food in plenty and health in abundance. The chance to go to a top-of-the-line school. And so many of the little wants! But Father, let these things never possess me, nor I them. They are Yours, and if You want them back, please take them. Align our hearts. Make me wholly Yours.
Nope. Not in my life. I spend much more of my time fretting about my relationships with my friends. Does this person really wants me around or are they’re just being nice? Did what I just said sound completely dweebish? Which set of friends I should hang out with on Friday night? But here’s what my focus should be. How can I serve them? Can they see You in the way I treat them? If I can learn to think this way, then I will start really being a friend.
In the same way, we as Christians get the opportunity to live our lives in imitation of Christ, no? So, if “even the Son of Man did not come to be served, but to serve, and to give His life a ransom for many” (Mark 10:45), isn’t that my mission as well? Would it not be my honor if I were allowed to shed my blood in service to my friends? I’m not sure on this. I’d appreciate your input. It seems logical and Scripturally supported, but I’m very willing to be wrong!
I am not saying that I want to be crucified. I’m not saying that I think my “righteousness” such as it is can save my friends. I’m not trying to actually be Christ. But I think that I am to dedicate my life to Him in such a way that I have a similar ministry, one in which my life, my desires, my goals, are forfeit to His. And in this forfeit, I lose nothing but the trash I think precious. His goal for me is to be like Him. And a huge part of that is service, pouring out my lifeblood to fight for souls and heal hearts and bodies. The death I am privileged to die may not be a death of body, but it will certainly be the chance to die to Me as often as necessary.
So, what am I waiting for?
I’m scared. But I’m praying. Something must be done. It would be so easy for me to get a good job, find a nice boy, and settle down to satisfy myself in what I think I want. And maybe those things are part of what God has for me. But must not the real heart of my life be serving Him, being a vessel for His work in the world? Lord, may I never numb my conscience. How could I use these great blessings only on myself? No! I am one of the richest people in the world. And I will answer to God for how I’ve used it. Father, help me to possess nothing, as Tozer puts it. Thank You for the great blessings you’ve given me. A beautiful, safe, healthy home in a gorgeous part of the world. A wonderful family who love You. All the people who make my life beautiful by being in it. Food in plenty and health in abundance. The chance to go to a top-of-the-line school. And so many of the little wants! But Father, let these things never possess me, nor I them. They are Yours, and if You want them back, please take them. Align our hearts. Make me wholly Yours.
Saturday, August 30, 2008
Vocal Arts Ensemble
Just a quick note to let you all know that I auditioned for a chamber group here at CU called the Vocal Arts Ensemble. Members of the Concert Chorale are eligible to audition for this eight-person (four men, four women; two voices to a part--i.e. two sopranos, two altos...) group that sings everything from Renaissance to the Beatles a la Carribbean to modern classical composers.
And I got in! Praise the Lord! I'm the Alto 2 (the one who sings the lowest when the altos split), and I'm very excited! Just wanted to let you all know! I love you guys!
And I got in! Praise the Lord! I'm the Alto 2 (the one who sings the lowest when the altos split), and I'm very excited! Just wanted to let you all know! I love you guys!
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