Why is he such a great opera singer?

I was listening to an opera singer this morning. Ben Somebody. He's suppose to be good,- really good. One of the best in the world actually. So I gave him a chance.

To me it sounded like opera. La La LAAAAAHHHHHH!
But I don't know why this guy was great.

Not that he sounded bad, don't get me wrong. He didn't hit any sour notes or anything. But what is it that makes him greater than any other Joe Opera?
I'm not familiar with opera, and my ear's never been trained like the critics so anyone singing lah lah lah would sound good to me, so long as they weren't drastically bad. Tell me anyone was the best in the world and I'd gullibility believe you 'cause I don't know the standard.

I think that's a problem with people in many ways. Just look at American Idol. Lots of people go on there thinking they sound good. Maybe someone even told them they sound good. And maybe to me they're not too bad. But the ones who are trained in this stuff, who make it their business to know the standards, it's all off.
I'm thinking about all of this stuff in light of my own spirituality. I've been reflecting and questioning a lot of my spirituality these last few months.
I usually think I'm a pretty good person.

But why?
Is it because I don't hit a majorly wrong note? Or because other people seem to think I'm pretty good. Or because I do "good things" like go to church.
But I know when I look at the standard of what is right, or "true religion" as the Bible discribes it, I often fall short.
Am I walking in love? Am I caring for the widows and orphans? Am I sacrificing for others? Am I patient?
Often the answer is no.
Maybe I'm not a great as I think I am.

meet & greet

I haven’t been to my lady doctor appointment in 3 years. So I figured I should probably go.
I got a recommendation for a good doctor here in GB from a few friends. I called for an appointment.
“Well, first we have to have a meet & greet appointment,” the receptionist told me.
Is this like an audition? Do I have to prepare interview questions? Who exactly is interviewing whom? I wondered.
So we met & gret, and she explained “I simply like to do this first so new patients can come and see the office, and ask any questions they might have of me, and that way they can feel comfortable.
I really appreciate that.
I do.
But she’s a lady doctor. I don’t care how many meets & greets we do. I will never feel comfortable with her.I will never lie there in a paper gown with my feet up in stirrups thinking to myself, “Wow! This isn’t awkward at all. I’m so glad that we sat down together for 15 minutes. This might have been horrible, but now it’s kinda like a girl’s-night-in”
I hope they don’t bill my insurance for that.

Just thinking outloud

Mory is one of my Kind gardeners.
A very chatty character.
I've noticed over the school year that he's now being raised in the Muslim faith. (I don't think this was always the case but I'm not 100% sure. I mean he's 6 so you can't always figure these things out.)
Anyway the other day as we were working together we started talking about Allah (which I know is simply the Arabic word for God)and how he was angry.
"No, Mory, I don't think Allah is angry at you. I think he loves us very much."
"No! he is." he insisted. "You have to pray down like this" he showed me how he kneels down, bowing low to pray. "You have to pray everyday."
"I do pray Mory. But I don't bow like that, I just sit up."
"Yes, that's how Americans pray. But, Africans, we have to pray like this" (again, he's only 6, so he's associated America with Christianity and Africa with Islam)
"If you don't, then Allah will take you tongue like this, (putting it out) and he'll pound a nail through it. He'll crush on you. He'll pound you like 'Boom Boom'" (not really sure if this is in the Koran or if this is just what he's been told. Like how a kid might be told by his Catholic mother that he'll go to hell if he gets a tattoo. )
But Mory, being the animated character that he is, was enthusiastically pounding his fist and making God's angry face. And then it kinda dawned on him,- dawned on him what he was saying, and how that effected me. He got very somber.
It's like he realized the 'bad guy' that would be pounded, would be me.
"So you have to pray. Okay? Okay, Miss Merrill? Just sometimes... sometimes pray like that okay?"
Only the thing is, the thing that I couldn't articulate to this six year old, it that I'm not afraid of that happening, because I don't believe that's God's character.
On the way home I started wondering about people who live far from God and how they interact with Christians. I guess if the only message they ever heard of is "repent or go to hell" they would no more believe it than I did with Mory.
Several of my students are Muslim, and it's been interesting talking with them and learning about their faith. (the older ones are more articulate than a kindergartner) But sometimes I wonder what they think about me. Do they think I'm a bad person because I eat pork or because I don't cover my head when I pray. None of them have ever said anything like that, but I wonder if they judge me.
but what about my non-christian friends? Do they wonder what I think about them? Do they fear that I secretly judge them?

Children of God

I'm reading for my psychology class today about the development of morals in early children. I found this interesting.
Piaget noted that young children have their design of morality around the concepts of rules that are established by an authority. They are absolute.
This makes sense if you 've ever tried to watch 2 young children play a game. "You can't to that...it's the rules." It also works if you are the authority. "Because I said so" is enough to get a response. It's as if in their little brains, it's not possible to be disobedient.
However the next step is for children to figure out that "rules" are flexible and don't necessarily have to be followed. Maybe this is where rebellion is developed. They see it is possible to not do it. "Mom says..." does not have the same effect it use to.
But Piaget's third phase of moral development happens when children develop playmates for cooperation. There is a morality of reciprocity and not just obedience.
This is when relationships occur. Children play and work together in ways, not because it is a rule, or because mom says,but because it enhances the quality of the relationship.

I recognize how much my faith has develops like this. How about you? We've all known new Christian who is so excited to learn and share all the rules?

You can't get drunk. You can't have sex. You can't tell lies. Why? Because God says so. It's the rules.
But somewhere down the line we figure out....umm, yeah, you actually can. You can do whatever you really want to, regardless of what God says. You don't have to be obedient.
But finally we begin to develop a relationship with Him, that is actually a relationship. It occurs if we learn the morality of reciprocity and not just obedience.
It's no longer about rules. It's about enhancing the quality or relationship with Him.
Interesting

Cathartic

I was awakened by my cell phone ringing. Before I was fully conscious I was down the stairs and fishing it out from the bottom of my purse.
Bryan calling it read.
“Bless his heart” I thought. “He doesn’t realize it’s 2 am here in Swaziland.”
But he did realize.
“We’ve had to take dad to the hospice center…. unresponsive….”
I was surprised at my calm. “Are you telling me it’s time to come home?”
“Sweetie, the nurses say he won’t make it 24 hours. There’s no time for you to come home…you need to say your good-byes now on the cell phone.”
I told him I’d just woken up. I needed a second to shake the sleep out of my head, - had to go pee. I told him I would call him back.
I calmly closed the phone.
How do you say goodbye? I wondered. Numb and dazed I wandered to the bathroom. The numb began to fade and I began to cry. I wasn’t ready to let go. I was planning on going home to see him one last time.
I scolded myself for crying now when I needed to put myself together. I needed to be strong for him one last time. I didn’t want him to worry about me. I wanted to assure him I’d be okay.
I dried my tears, steeled my spine and dialed 13 digits into my brother’s pocket.
He put the phone to my dad’s ear. “It’s Christy” he said, and my dad lifted his head to listen.
“He can’t talk” Bryan had warned me, “But he’s aware.”
How do you say goodbye?
I couldn’t do it.
So I prayed instead.
I thanked Jesus for giving him to me as my dad, and released him back into His care.
And I assured dad that I would be alright.
I ended the conversation with my brother’s promise to call me every few hours.
By 6am he was gone.
Susan came quickly to comfort me. She was the only one I could bear to face. Her quiet strength and peaceful heart were my support.
She just listened.
And I’ll never forget the deep sadness I felt as I pulled back the heavy drapes in my dining room, revealing a beautiful sunrise and beautiful exotic flowers blooming in the Africa beyond them.
Oh how he loved flowers.
I began to weep again.
It’s going to be such a beautiful day here on Earth… and he won’t be here to see it.
But almost as an afterthought came the realization, He does see it, but just from another angle. He can still enjoy the beauty of creation.
I had to smile at the thought of him walking mile after mile of gloriously created gardens, with blooms that never wither. Now he can walk as far as he’d like, and not lose his breath or have to rest.
I’ve have missed him often these past 2 years,-when the daffodils bloomed, when the garden grew like crap, when the horses ran around the race track, when I found his childhood stocking at the bottom of the box of decorations, when Jack Nicholson vomited in The Bucket List, when I play Farmville….
I miss him still.

I know it's been a long time. Nothing to write about...and that's a problem in more ways than one.
I'm currently reading Donald Miller's A Million Miles in a Thousand Years. If you haven't you should. 1,- because it's a good book and 2- because none of this will make sence if you haven't read it.
But this book speaks to my heart. I can relate to writing all of my ideas on paper only to find that others have been living their lives in reality as I lived mine on a computer screen. I can relate to wanting a bigger story. I can relate to saving a few cats, but thinking,- what for? The audience will root for me, but is the audience rooting for?
I need a bigger story. Well acutally, I feel like I need a story period. I've ceased to live life since coming home. Hence the lack of blogs.
No Donald Miller, if you are reading this, I don't need life to write, just the opposite. But it's the lack of enthusiasm caused by living life that had kept me from writing.
I don't know how my big story should go, but I've known for years that it's out there. I'm looking for it. And in the meantime I'm hunting for creative scenes.
(See, I told you it wouldn't make sence)

The lights are on, is anybody home?

Last week I left my porch light on all day. The sun came up and I forgot it was there.
When I drove home from work I noticed it was on.
"Hmmm. I'll have to remember to turn it off when I go inside."
But of course I got distracted and forgot all about it. So it was on until evening.
Isn't it funny that when the day is sunny you don't even notice a bright light is shining. You have no need for it.
But when the darkness comes... oh when the darkness comes.

Why is it so easy to forget about the light when the days are sunny? Maybe we feel we don't need Him. Maybe you are the kind of person who does recognize your need for Him everyday. But even so, I'm sure you pursue Him 10 times more in a time of darkness.

"sorrow is better than laughter, for sadness has a refining influence on us." Ecclesiastes 7:3

"... Give me just enough to satisfy my needs. For if I grow rich I may deny you and say 'Who is the Lord?'..." Proverbs 30:8-9

I've never likes these two verses, but I respect the truth in them. They hold a mirror to our human condition, even if they don't tickle our ears.

Christmas lights

I've been waking up early each day even though I'm on break. I enjoy looking out into the dark morning to see the Christmas lights on my bushes.
This week the mornings have been soooo dark, making the lights even more beautiful.
Today it struck me,- it's during the darkest days of the year that we choose to celebrate the coming of the light.

My Dylan

Heidi use to say, "If I could find a man who loved me half as much as my students do, I'd be a happy woman"
Students have the tendency to adore you! And it makes me adore them so much in return. My little Dylan currently holds the title of the "sweetest thing"
A few weeks ago we were learning the word "lovely." We used it in all different context and really he just showed no recognition and didn't really care about it.
Finally a few weeks later he asked to see my name badge again. He loves to look at the picture and run his fingers over my name and read it.
"Your hair down" he said.
"Yes, my hair was straight that day. I didn't curl it."
He stared at it lovingly. "(sigh)ahhhh. ....lovely"
Oh I could just kiss him!
I also taught him the word "gentle" after he slapped my hand away one day. He seemed to grasp that one right away. When I stood up he patted my butt.
"Gentle" he said.
I couldn't help but laugh. Yes, gentle. Inappropriate, but gentle.

Ex 21:8 If she is displeasing in the eyes of her master who designated her for himself, then he shall let her be redeemed.......

Yes, I know this is about a female slave, but it spoke to me this morning. This one sentence jumped out.

I have been displeasing in the eyes of my master who designated me for Himself.... thank you Jesus for redeeming me.

And now a word from our sponsor:

THE FOLLOWING IS A PAID CELEBRITY ENDORSEMENT. THE VIEWS AND OPINIONS EXPRESSED DO NOT NECESSARILY REFLECT THE THE VIEWS OF THE NETWORK OR THEIR STAFF.

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Oh the blessings

I've been loving my new job. No 8am is a not a perfect time, and 5 days a week has been difficult to get use too again, but I'm managing. I come home less that exhausted and can sleep in a tiny bit later than when I was teaching.
But already there are things that make me smile each day.
For example, one student Dylan is from Vietnam. He pronounces this l's as r's. So while singing his phonics song to me he sang, "J, juh...jerrybeans!" It was so cute. Now I have no choice but to call jellybeans "jerrybeans", just like I call noodles, "noogles." This little kindergardener also guesses wildly at his reading instead of looking at picture clues. As we read a book "I like" we came to a page with a boy sleeping. I prompted him, "I Like to ssssssss."
"I like to sandwich!!!!!
"No Dylan,-"
"I like to snake!!!"
ha ha, he never did get it. I finally had to tell him.
But even better is the blessing of knowing I'm helping these children. I have an 8th grader who most teachers have dismisses as un-motivated and is failing almost every class. (amazing after 4 weeks huh?)
I was dreading working with him thinking I was going to get resistance and attitude from a kid who didn't want me around him.
But on the second day he and I worked together to understand the preamble to the constitution. It only took about 15 minutes work outside of the class and he had a decent grasp of its meaning. As I started to leave that day, he looked me in the eyes and said, "Thank you."
Oh, that was better than any paycheck. And now each day I see him, his face immediately lights up. We always have big hurdles to tackle, but we are making progress in the right direction.

Dressed for battle

David was sent into battle. He tried to wear Saul’s armor, but didn’t feel comfortable in it.
It wasn’t made for him. He shrugged it off and succeeded in defeating Goliath with just a sling and a stone, the weapons he was use it.
Recently I’ve been trying to be patient in a very frustrating situation. It’s been dragging on for over five months. I’ve been patient, I’ve been understanding, and I’ve been calm.
And nothing was getting done.
That’s it. I’ve had enough. Nothing ever gets done when you are kind. I’m getting nasty.I made the call I needed.
Now I wasn’t rude or offensive in anyway. I didn’t cuss him out, or make empty threats. But I let know I meant business and I got immediate results.
“Do you see why I hate being a woman? “ I complained to Steve. “No one takes you seriously unless you act like a bitch. It’s the only way to get anything accomplished.”
But regardless of results, the whole situation left me feeling icky.
I still had to settle up with this guy, and I was absolutely dreading going through the whole hard-edge routine again.
It went on for a few days. I really wasn’t sure how I was gonna handle the whole situation.
I sat in my thinking chair hugging my bible. “Lord, I’m sure you have an answer for me in here somewhere. But I have no idea where to look.”
I opened my bible and landed on Colossians 3 and found these verses UNDERLINED:

8 But now is the time to get rid of anger, rage, malicious behavior, slander, and dirty language…12 Since God chose you to be the holy people whom he loves, you must clothe yourself…

(and at this point as my eyes were going down to the next line to read I thought to myself, ‘I know how to dress for battle. It’s in Ephesians 6, breast plate of righteousness, shoes of piece, blah blah blah)

Then my eyes settled on the next line and saw: …with tenderhearted mercy, kindness, humility, gentleness, and patience. You must make allowance for each other’s faults and forgive the person who offends you… And the most important piece of clothing you must wear is love.. Love is what binds us all together in perfect harmony, And let the peace that comes from Christ rule in your heart.”

Wow. I felt the Lord speaking to my heart:
You’ve felt so uncomfortable because, like David, you were trying to wear armor that was not created for you.
Ugh.
So from here on out, the hard edge bitch is not an option. It’s fine, I’ve never enjoyed it. It’s just not me. I guess this is the point I follow his lead, and Allow Him to fight my battles.

More of my ponderings...

Sometimes people say, "I'm not sure what God's will is in this situation..." and when things turn out okay they assume they must have unknowingly stumbled upon it.
Other times I've heard the arguement against biblical ideas, "How can that be wrong? I know so-and-so and they've done that and they have a blessed life."
But in Genesis 17: 19 we see that things that we create ourselves can still be blessed by God.

"...as for Ishmael, I will bless him also, just as you have asked. I will cause him to multiply and become a great nation. Twelve princes will be among his descendants. But my covenant is with Isaac, who will be born to you and Sarah about this time next year."

Also, hundreds of years later, God gave his people a king when they asked for him, although his intention was always for them to be governed my him. And in spite of that He still longed to bless them.

Getting out of the will of God doesn't always result in the proverbial slap on the wrist. Sometimes we are still blessed inspite of it.

So now I have to ask the tough question, and maybe you should ask this of yourself too: How important is it to me to remain in his will?
Or does it not matter so long as I am blessed?

The answer exposes...

Am I a woman after God's own heart?... or a woman after his blessing?

Goodbye Ishmael

We always think Abraham didn't infact have to sacrifice his son, because God stopped him at the last minute.
The willingness was all that actually mattered.
By sparing Isaac, the Lord kept Abraham from losing everything.
But we forget Abraham did have another son that he did have to sacrifice...the son of his own planning.
Even though he was not the "son of promise" I doubt that Abraham loved him any less.
I doubt casting him out was a simple thing.
There are time God requires us to let go of things we love so much. Especially if it is things we've conjured up ourselves.
It's not an easy thing to do.
Necessary.
But not easy.

The Job!

Sometimes I can't see the whole picture. I don't understand the plan. But I love as it all unfolds.
I just got a job! I a job, that when I first learned about it, I thought, "Nah, that's not for me. I'm not interseted."
But as time went on, I realized, "This is my job. This is the one I'm suppose to have."
And sure enough, I applied and got it.
I'll be working throughout Gennessee County with English as a Second Languge Students. I'll go from school to school working with students 1-1, small groups or even in the classroom.
I feel so blessed. I can't be in Swaziland anymore, but God is bringing multiple nations to me!
I can not tell you how excited I am about this, and how much I love these children already. I've never met them but I'm praying for them and their families already.
Who knows what doors might open!

I've been feeling so unsettled this week. There is just so much brewing in my brain, it's hard to get much relief.
I've been back for 8 months now.
Why?
What am I suppose to be doing back here in Flint? I'm just so unsatisfied with everything.
The rest and novelty of being unemployed have been gone for a while. I'm bored, and find myself filling my days with meaningless activities that now bring no amusement.
I want to go back to work. But doing what?
Teaching? That would be the easy answer. But I can't really say I'm suppose to be teaching. That doesn't mean I'm not trying to teach,- trust me. But I feel like that's the easy way out.
I remember years ago hearing a sermon about after Jesus' death the disciples went back to what they knew.
They'd had this amazing experience with Jesus, and then it all seemed to end and in their confusion and doubt they went back to whatever it was before. We see that when Jesus found Peter again he was fishing. He questioned his love and commitment 3 times and prophesied about who Peter would become.
I feel so much like Peter right now. Coming off the mission field to .....what?
Like Peter, I find myself scratching my head and thinking, "It wasn't suppose to be this way."
I want so desperately to grab onto and cling to anything "normal" or "safe" or "familiar" or "regular"
God has grabbed hold of me this week, through different conversations with people, and given me a good shake.
I'm sensing once again that I'm missing something I shouldn't. If I believe what I say I believe, shouldn't my life look different?
But I think I'm afraid of that difference. I'm afraid of the boldness. I'm afraid of that life which he will call me to. I'm afraid to encounter Jesus on that beach and have him question my love, my commitment, and prophesy who I will become.

Humility

As John Ortberg defines it, humility is letting God be God. I've always liked that definition.
He tells a story in his book The Life you Always Wanted about a christian school who was putting on a play, and one little boy was assigned the part of God. His job was to stand on a ladder, shine a flashlight down and read his lines. But one day at practice he told the teacher, "I can't do this. I just feel too crazy to be God today."
That story makes me smile on those days when I've tried, (and failed) to work my own plan. These are the days I have to throw up my hands and say, "Ugh, It's too much work to be God today." And that's when humility sinks in.
Oh yeah, I"m not suppose to be God.

It's happened a lot lately.

If you can't tell, the newness and fun and relaxation of being unemployed has worn off. I'm ready for something...anything.
I'm bored.

I know some of you don't believe it's possible but day after day on nothingness gets old after 8 months.

And job hunting in Michigan is no easy feat right now, so I often find myself discouraged. Considering I don't really know what I want to do doesn't help things either.

So the last few days I've really had to let go and let God be God. I'm starting to think this job will be something I just kinda stumble upon, like everything else in my life right now.

I stumbled upon Vilma. I stumbled upon Jabu. I stumbled upon Steve. I wasn't looking for any of them, and yet God has brought them into my life,- and I am so blessed by each of them.

Susan blogged today about complaining, and the definition is "to find fault in."

Yikes!

How can I find fault in God's perfect plan? His plan to bless me, and give me a future and a hope? He is for me. He can be trusted. Oh shame on me for saying it's not right.

Humility. I have to bring myself back to it daily. I need to let God be God.

I'm late

I'm sure I've talked about this before. I feel like I'm late in life.
I guess I've done everything else later than my friends.
My friends went off to college right away.
I stayed in Flint for a year.
My friends all moved away for college or work.
I waited until I was 24.
My friends are all married with kids (or so it seems)
And yet at 32...nuthin.'
This started up again last night, when I added a former co-worker as a face book friend.
He's listed as married.
How could he be married? He just got engaged.
But he'd just got engaged when I saw him 2 years ago.
Once again it's that black hole vortex of Africa. Where you go and life zooms by so quickly and then when you come back, you realize that life has gone on without you in so many different areas, and you are no further along than before.
It's a crappy feeling.
So now that I've vented I have to go and practice my latest routine.
When I'm feeling crappy I've been making myself sit down, and list what I "know" is bucolically true, as opposed to what I'm "feeling"
Feelings can't be trusted. They are too fickle.
But before I did that, I just wanted to emotionally vomit.

Sad

I've been going through the stores and seeing all of the Back-to-school displays:
new crayons, new pencils, back packs, glue sticks, and all of the wonderful smells of new school supplies.
And this year I have no part in it.
I know I haven't taught in 2 years, but I was away from all of the festivities.
This year seeing it all has made me sad. I want to be part of this again, and I'm just not. I spent the afternoon in Borders and walked through the kid's section.
Tons of my favorite stories were there, and I have no one to but them for.
Bummer. This has really gotten me down.