Well, Hello Tuesday

-Sunny and 60 degrees, the trees in bloom, the birds singing sweetly, a crisp breeze

-The University of Georgia has lots of great historical records for me-digitized!

-Weekly coffee with a dear friend (and mine was free today!)

-Trip to Trader Joe's, unexpected affirmation from the sample man--I'll smile for you any day...

-Windows down and singing in the Volvo

-a lunch smoothie: banana, berries, kale, spinach, carrot juice-oh my!

-A surprise package-a pretty dress!- from my Mom and sister, sent by my Dad-wow, thank you!

-Attempting to make a Lentil Sausage Soup for Neighborhood Group-here's to the power of persistent optimism and effort (please let this be edible...)

-a quick run and shower, so now my hair smells like peppermint

-Gardening with my favorite young mom

-Experiencing Christ together in community at my home away from home, a 'wayside chapel'

Praise God from whom all blessings flow! All gratitude and glory to the great Giver of all good things. Oh, Father, you are no less good on days of sorrow and grief, but thank you for the small joy of today.

Hold to God's Unchanging Hand

Let these words lift your soul.

Life is filled with swift transition

Naught of earth unmoved can stand

Build your hopes on things eternal

And hold to God's unchanging hand

Hold to His hand, to God's unchanging hand

Hold to His hand, to God's unchanging hand

Build your hopes on things eternal,

And hold to God's unchanging hand

Trust in Him who will not leave you,

Whatsoever years may bring

If by earthly friends forsaken,

still more closely to Him cling

Hold to His hand, to God's unchanging hand

Hold to His hand, to God's unchanging hand

Build your hopes on things eternal,

And hold to God's unchanging hand

When your journey is completed,

if to God you have been true

Fair and bright the home in glory,

your enraptured soul will view

Hold to His hand, to God's unchanging hand

Hold to His hand, to God's unchanging hand

Build your hopes on things eternal,

And hold to God's unchanging hand.

(Public Domain, F.L. Eiland and Jennie Wilson, http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vzfc_rGPmL8)

This morning, after a week and before a week of hope and expectation, of disappointment and disillusion, I need these words. When I begin to believe that the affections and approval of friends and colleagues define me, when I believe that I must work and try and focus, when I start to despair because I can't do it all, I need these words. When I realize that I can't control how I am or how I'm perceived, or predict the sudden changes and stagnant boredom of life, I need these words. Let me, let us, turn from distraction and distortion to our Daddy. In the midst of it all--the "swift transition," the rejection of others, even death itself--we can cling to Him and hold to his hand. Oh, Father, thank you, I have nothing else to do.

iwhy?

Okay, what I'm about to say is not at all novel or original or arresting. That doesn't make it not true.

This morning sitting in a coffee shop with friends and papers to grade, I looked around and noticed that everyone was on their phones. Dads at tables with their families. Their wives, holding off their kiddos while texting. College students checking facebook instead of their chem equations. Loners fending off insecurity by finding synthetic companionship. The couple next to me? That's right, BOTH on their phones. I'm sorry, but do y'all like each other?

Frequently these days, I'll be talking with people and out of nowhere--iphone. As my eyes widen in astonishment, thumbs flit across the screen, navigating, and oblivious to my incredulous expression. I mean, really, should I be offended? Does that mean the conversation was boring? Are the phone's graphics prettier than your friends' faces? Guess what, baby, you don't need to check my status update, I'm updating you right now, just listen and look at my face. Right?

I have a kind, honest friend who told me the other day that, although he loves his iphone (and don't get me wrong-there IS a lot to love, they're simply amazing in technological capabilities), he feels conflicted since he find himself sometimes unconsciously tuning out the real world in favor of a more predictable, controllable, virtual one. He's troubled by that, and that in and of itself is encouraging. Do others feel that way? Is the phone attachment psychological? habitual? intellectual? informational? emotional? Someone explain it to me. Please.

I should, here, in the sake of full disclosure, tell you that I don't have an iphone.

Kind of want one though...

The kid's got it!

Last night, way too late (both at night and in my life...) I went to see Never Say Never. In 3D.

Hey, never say never.

Justin Bieber is adorable, musically gifted, and a skillful dancer. But more than that, he's just likeable. Time and time again in the movie, adult onlookers commented on how Bieber effortlessly captures the attention of the room, responds humorously and adeptly to adversity, and charms his way in and out of trouble. His teachers remember, with a hint in their eyes, a kid who played with his hair and chattered incessantly. They couldn't get him to calm down, to be quiet, but they also loved him and were genuinely amused by his antics. These are the kids who get away with everything by virtue of being themselves. They become leaders and entertainers, politicians and performers. Some people are just like that, it seems. They just have it-whatever it is.

Magnetism

Allure

Presence

Effervescence

Chutzpah

Charm

Confidence

Radiance

Sparkle

Something (this is actually a synonym for charism in the thesaurus, in case there was any doubt as to the terms etymological ambiguity...)

Ronald Riggio notes in Psychology Today that personal charisma is comprised of several key qualities, including: emotional expressiveness (an ability to "express feelings spontaneously and genuinely"), emotional sensitivity (an ability to "read others' emotions), emotional control (an ability to contain emotion and regulate reactions), social expressiveness (ability to entertain and engage in conversation), social sensitivity (an ability to read a room and gauge social dynamics), and social control (a 'poise and grace' that enables one to fit in with anyone). (http://www.psychologytoday.com/blog/cutting-edge-leadership/201002/charisma-what-is-it-do-you-have-it)

These components create a nebulous but undeniable characteristic that we call, for lack of a better word, charisma. People are inexiblicably attracted to individuals with charisma, who command not only power but affection. These individuals are able to read others and respond compassionately and energetically. They make others feel valued. They usually talk quickly and passionately in unbroken sentences that reveal fervor and assurance, and make others listen. Almost everyone likes them, feels a connection with them, senses a kinship with them. The Biebs might be my current favorite, but there are others:

Napolean

John F. Kennedy

Matt Lauer

Franklin Delano Roosevelt

Oprah

Bill Clinton

Sandra Bullock

Benjamin Franklin

Gandhi

Barack Obama

Charles Finney

Vince Vaughn

Will Smith

Martin Luther King, Jr.

Michael Jordan

This personal charisma can manifest in real passion and ability to lead people or to perform to the general delight of all, or to be a wonderful friend. But, like any gift, it can deteriorate and corrupt, in this case, into base self-seeking and delusional narcissism. You get Jesus, you also get Hitler.

We all know people like this (you may even be one of these charismatic figures in your own circles. again, never say never). What a fascinating element of personality and social interaction, so compelling yet also so vague.

"Living for Jesus"

Sometimes, I am too weak to pray, too distracted to concentrate on God's Word, lost in my own thoughts and the cares and conversations of the day. In those times, often the only thing that can reorient my heart, by God's grace and His Spirit, is The Valley of Vision. When I graduated from high school, a family gave me this little volume of Puritan prayers and, while initially it sat in leather-bound, gilded contentment gathering dust on the bookshelf, it eventually made it into rotation and has been a source of great comfort and wisdom throughout the years.

A prayer for today, Living for Jesus:

"O Saviour of Sinners,

Thy name is excellent,

thy glory high, thy compassions unfailing,

thy condescension wonderful,

thy mercy tender.

I bless thee for the discoveries, invitations, promises of teh gospel

for in them is pardon for rebels,

liberty for captives,

health fort he sick,

salvation for the lost.

I come to thee in thy beloved name of Jesus;

reimpress they image upon my soul;

Raise me above the smiles and frowns of the world,

regarding it as a light thing to be judged by men;

May thy approbation be my only aim,

thy Word my one rule.

Make me to abhor that which grieves thy Holy Spirit,

to suspect consolations of a worldly nature,

to shun a careless way of life,

to reprove evil, to instruct with meekness those who oppose me,

to be gentle and patient towards all men,

to be not only a professor but an example of the gospel,

displaying in every relation, office, and condition

its excellency, loveliness and advantages.

How little have I illustrated my principles and improved my privileges!

How often have I injured and not recommended my Redeemer!

How few are those blessed through me!

In many things have I offended, in all come short of thy glory;

Pardon my iniquity, for it is great."

I love how the Puritans are able to confess so freely their own sin and inadequacies, knowing the beauty and completeness of their salvation. Indeed, our sin is great, but Jesus is greater still.

Some Thoughts from the Road

In no particular order, and with no particular importance...

-National Parks can be somewhat abandoned in the winter. Like when its windy and 26 degrees at Queen Wilhelmina National Park.

-Lots of things in Arkansas just make you shake your head and mutter to yourself, "weird..."

-Bill Clinton is from Hot Springs!?! We stopped there and I made it my business not only fill up my water bottle as many times as possible but also to practice my investigative journalism skills and ask everyone their thoughts on our 42nd President. Apparently, the good citizens of Hot Springs have forgiven Bill for his Democratic affiliation (and his indiscretions...) and love him dearly. I mean, everyone sort of loves a guy who both jogs and eats McDonald's, right? An Everyman? But they are not so keen on Hilary. With lowered voices and serious expressions, people told me she doesn't like Arkansas and isn't too friendly when she visits, which she does rarely. Interesting.

-Highway 7, why do you torture me with your steepness and curves of death?

-Jasper, Arkansas is an oasis, a cute little hippie mountain town. With pizza. And COFFEE. (No beer).

-In America, churches and their marquees abound. Does the gospel?

-You can travel, and that helps, but the mind often wanders back. As the book title goes (and this would be a great song title also...), "My shoes keep walking back to you."

-Sometimes people hoard stuff in their yards. A LOT of stuff.

-The economic downturn has hit the Ozarks hard. I was shocked by the number of abandoned buildings and closed shops. As the side of one barn lamented, "I'm too poor to be a Republican."

-A walk by the Buffalo River or around a lake can heal almost anything. Oh, and I miss Furman.

-Don't pick up hitchhikers. They might be convicted murderers. (Thanks for the heads up Tennessee State Troopers! And good work!) http://wnws.com/after-11-days-on-the-run-2-louisiana-escape-convicts-are-back-in-custody/

Give Reviving...on an RV

I spent the better part of last week in an RV affectionately named Ethel with two of my dearest friends. I took a plane to Texas and the next morning we hit the road, traveling up through the Ozarks all the way back to Tennessee. We laughed, we talked, we hiked, we ate (Oh, Cracker Barrel, why?), we hooked up and unhooked up the RV, we cursed the steep grades of mountain cliffs, we talked to strangers who knew we weren't from there, we said fervent prayers. In short, we lived a little.

This trip was needed. The gray haze of dreary winter had, largely unbeknownst to me, been casting a pall over my heart and mind and causing my to drift numbly through my days. It dawned on me that I needed a little refreshment when I had no specific prayer requests for the fourth week in a row at bible study. That's just not a good sign. I've been more connected to my grocery list than God's word. More connected with my computer than with nature. Sometimes when this vague boredom and restlessness settles upon me, I find myself humming these lyrics a friend of mine once wrote: "Day after day, in the very worst way, I find ways of wasting my time. The time that you found me sleeping so soundly was the best that I've spent in a very long time." It was high time for a little adventure, I'd say.

And as surely as Ethel's name means 'Noble,' my soul began to wake up, unfurl, and experience.

On the plane out there, even, the change of perspective brought renewed energy and inspiration:

"There's a terrific storm front to my left. Big, heavy, gray clouds, momentarily glowing pink with the flash of lightning within. From the security of the plane, with 'Thy Mercy, My God' in my ears and Bill Bryson's wit in my mind, I view this natural wonder with brazen detachment. But, oh, the lightning crackles and flickers with electricity and fire--real and sharp and jolts me from my apathy. The storms are strong. The darkness is deep. The rain is cold. For a minute I can see nothing, and then suddenly the illuminated outlines of the clouds. "The darkness is as light" to you, Oh Lord. "Who is this that the wind and the waves obey Him?"

Jesus, be more real to me than the storms

and more real than the ipod and the printed pages

more real than the fizzy sweetness of Diet Coke swirling around my teeth..."

Oh may the Lord, in His great mercy and love, continue to revive and refresh as I return to normalcy. By the Holy Spirit, ignite my heart and mind to live with the passion and joy that comes from having a Living Hope.

As the great hymn intones, "Father for Thy promised blessing/Still we plead before Thy throne/ For the times of, sweet refreshing,/Which can come from Thee alone/ Blessed earnests, Thou hast given,/ But in these we would not rest/ Blessings still with Thee are hidden,/ Pour them forth and make us blest!/ Give reviving, give refreshing,Give the looked-for Jubilee; To Thyself may crowds be pressing, Bringing glory unto Thee."

(Give Reviving, Albert Midlane, alt Chelsey Scott)

"Wandering Thoughts"

Gather my thoughts, Good Lord, they fitful roam,

Like children bent on foolish wandering,

Or vanity of fruitless wayfaring;

Oh call them home.

See them, they drift like the wind-scattered foam;

Like wild sea birds, they hither, thither, fly,

And some sink low and others soar too high,

Oh call them home.

My silence speaketh to Thee, but I roam

With my poor silly thoughts, I know not where;

That undistracted I may go to prayer

Oh call them home.

Amy Carmichael, Toward Jerusalem (1936)

For Toby Elizabeth

I ordinarily don’t think about her much.

A few recollections punctuating a busy life. The tears of my Dad sometimes on the evenings of June 8, when the humidity and the crickets lend profundity to the darkness. The presence somewhere in our house of a photograph I’ve never seen.

But over the past several months, conversations and happenings in my life have forced a more concerted reflection on a girl I once knew but never met.

When a friend tells me she’s having twins and that one of them is sick, I think about my own mother, 28 and terrified, facing similar news. I didn’t know my mom then, but I can see her courage and trust in the face of my friend.

“Did you know that if you are a twin your chances of having twins increase 20%?” “Really…” I comment, distractedly, before abruptly realizing that this in fact applies to me. Twins?!? Oh, Lord, have mercy. (Please let them be boys.)

Yesterday, one of my students, with beautiful expectation, enthusiasm and wavy auburn hair, tells me her sister is coming to visit for Spring Break. “How old is she?” I inquire. “Same age as me, we’re twins!” “Fraternal or identical?” “Fraternal. She’s taller than me by a few inches. She wants to be a nurse,” she reports with pride and affection. “Oh, wow! That’s wonderful.” And it is.

What would she have been like? Would she have looked like me? Taller perhaps? Shyer? Better at balancing a checkbook and talking to guys? Would she have taught me to be less selfish? To be kinder? Would we have been close? Shared a common life?

I suppose I’ll never know. I hope, dear sister, that you are with our Father even now. By His grace, I’ll be with you both someday.

It may be March...

It may be nearing 70 degrees in the afternoon...

I may be going on Spring Break next week...

I may be pining after sundresses...

BUT that doesn't mean we don't still have a Christmas tree up in the living room.

Stay strong, evergreen.

Oh, and while we're on the subject of Christmas, look what I found when searching my computer for 'Christmas' images. That's funny no matter what time of year. Love you, MB!