make a joyful noise

Last night, My Man and I had the great privilege of going to the Preservation Hall Jazz Band and Del McCoury bluegrass band concert downtown.  This is not something we would've done ourselves, but some great church people had tickets they weren't able to use and gave them to us.  And my wonderful in-laws agreed to babysit even though it was their 38th anniversary! 

Oh, my, goodness...this concert was amazing.  I am so very grateful for the generous gift of joyful music.  Now, I am not a music aficionado of any sort.  I do not play an instrument.  I cannot sing (well).  I only know the most popular pop music groups.  Outside of that, I know nada.  But now I know that the Preservation Hall Music Band is going to be downloaded to the ipod later today (or maybe the Man has already done it)! 

The concert was a combo of jazz and bluegrass.  I expected the two bands to play together the whole time, but it really was mostly jazz the first half and mostly bluegrass the second, with some fusion at the beginning and end.  I enjoyed it all, but the jazz was by far my favorite (just a personal preference).  Those bluegrass musicians, though - man, their fingers fly! 

The jazz is what penetrated my soul, though.  It's such a joyful resilient music, even when they're singing about disappointed love or honoring a friend who just died.  My only problem with it was that I sometimes felt like we should be in a club or on the street rather than in a concert hall - the music seems to call for more intimacy - but it was still such a fabulous experience.  My favorite song of the night was their finale, "I'll Fly Away."  By the end of it, I really felt like I really could fly away.  That music is powerful, transporting, transformative even.

We've been feeling a bit downtrodden recently.  Soul-weary.  Worried.  Wondering about the future and how others' decisions are going to affect us.  But last night we were lifted out of that into a gorgeous world where joy triumphs in the end.  And I can still feel that joy in my gut.  I am so very thankful.

The ipod is with The Man, but Pandora, here I come!

tuesday triumphs

Some small triumphs for today (or the last couple of days):

• Getting up at 5:30 (or a little later) for yoga!  This doesn't happen nearly as often as I'd like, but it does happen 2 or 3 times a week.  That's progress, at least.
• The girl rode her bike up and down our rode (including the hills) by herself!  OK, so she still has training wheels, but she has always been extra-nervous about new physical ventures.  Dare-devil she is not.  So it was wonderful to walk behind her as she took off on her own without yelling in fear at me to "hold on to me, don't let go!" 
• Using fewer diapers/pull-ups for the boy.  With fewer accidents.  Our bank account rejoices.
• Getting back into the bread- and yogurt-making groove.  I missed it.  Now maybe today I can pull together some granola and granola bars (the homemade kind is so much better than the store-bought kind, which I don't really like).
• Renewed dance party fever!  Last night we even turned off the lights and threw in a flashlight disco ball.  A little overwhelming, but oh, so fun.
• Clearing off the kitchen counter a bit.  Only a bit, but I must rejoice in the small steps.
• A completed bonnet and apron for my girl, which I made for the Christmas Scrooge musical at church, but it turns out she also needs such a thing for her "life long ago" day at school this week.  2 uses from one outfit - score!

Williamsburg!

The fam and I took a quick trip to Williamsburg for William & Mary's homecoming (my husband's alma mater).  It was wild and exhausting, as I knew it would be - a long car ride for a short stay with lots and lots of people converging on the same small town - but it was worth it.  Sometimes it's good to get out of Dodge for a breath of new air.  Despite the crazy condo neighbors (complaining about our kids at 7:30 pm - really?!), it was good to stay with friends, and the weather was perfect.  It was a beautiful fall weekend to spend some time in a beautiful Williamsburg.  What a place to go to school!

Here are some pictures from our trip:

Our little helper on the way to the Sunken Garden (which is not a garden - it's a lawn)

Daddy in awe of his alma mater.  The kids still skeptical!

A someday Griffin?

Silliness after a Dog Street Chill (much of the wonder of Williamsburg is the food!):

"I'm so tired, my arms and legs hurt."

Horses!



The kiddoes did not like the idea of putting their head in the stocks, but Daddy will do anything!

Colonial Williamsburg has some awesome trees:

We ended our time in Williamsburg with a (brief!) collapse in the grass.  Soakin' it all in:

Not pictured:  anything from the homecoming parade.  I forgot to bring the camera!  It's a silly little parade, but oh, so fun for the kiddoes (and adults).

We had a good day in Williamsburg.  Next time, I think we'll try to go at a time other than homecoming when the crowds aren't so severe and maybe the kids will appreciate the historical significance more.  But it was a bright day of fun, reminding me what a wonderful blessing my family is.

so very tired

Today I am so very tired.  Soul-weary.  Only a couple days ago I was all hopeful and stuff.  What happened to that?  I must think of some blessings today.  I must remind myself that there is brightness.  So here are six for Sunday:

• Discovering a local church with a beautiful labyrinth and walking trail. 
• Lovely fall weather.
• Friends, old and new.
• The Boy voluntarily pooping on the potty (gross, sorry, but a big event in this here household).
• Sweet family.
• Having enough, for the moment, right now, one day at a time.

My hope for the future may be diminished today, but it's still there, a little glimmer.  And in this moment, right here, right now, there is much to be grateful for.

hope, and the gift of idealism

I am not generally an idealist.  I am not a visionary.  I do not have the gift of re-imagining.   

I am a worker bee, neither a leader nor a rebel. 

I copy others' ideas or re-work them to fit my situation.

But despite my pragmatic streak, despite a tendency toward pessimism (greater as I get older), I am still eternally hopeful...always hopeful that the future will be brighter.  Not convinced, maybe, but hopeful.  Even in my darkest hours, there is still a glimmer of hope. 

These days I have the hardest time hoping for our larger communities - local, national, global.  We seem to revel in divisiveness.  Sometimes it's hard to hope.  But it's still there.  A little glimmer.

I am finding greater hope in my hope for the Church.  Which is somewhat surprising.  Because my husband and I have both worked for a number of a churches.  I grew up going to many different churches (we moved a lot).  I know many awful stories of what the church has done to people, including myself.  And I know how far it sometimes seems from the community that God must have intended it to be. 

But I am hopeful.  This struck home with me yesterday when I read this blog post at A Church for Starving Artists about why many ministers want to leave the ministry.  The writer (a pastor) concludes with this:

When we are set free in the church to be fed and to feed others, there is no reason to leave. But when we are caged in the church - enslaved by rules that make no sense, assumptions that no longer hold, and people who are threatened by change for what they fear it will take from them, leaders will leave.

Where will they go? I have a feeling - or a hope - that we are on the cusp of starting a wave of new congregations that will try to be the church in a new way. There will still be an institution, but the institutionalization will make new things possible rather than hold people back. It will be so energizing that no one will want to leave.

So how should I read this blog post?  Is it depressing that so many ministers are "caged in the church" and that so many church members (and ministers) are "threatened by change."  Yes, absolutely, it is.  It wears me down.  It makes me scared.  Sometimes it makes me want to jump ship.  But ultimately I left this blog with a feeling of hope for the future.  Hope for a time when the church will be "so energizing that no one will want to leave."  I don't know if I will see that time, but sometimes I see glimmers of it, and sometimes more than just glimmers.  There are places near and far where churches are energized, and so I am hopeful.

And then I read this from Such as These (sorry for the long quote, but I couldn't adequately summarize it):

On the first night of the conference [the eighth letter conference in Toronto], Andy Crouch asked all the participants to write a short, one-sentence letter to the church of today and share it with one person that we didn’t come with. My letter said something about being what the church was meant to be and helping stamp out injustice. Clearly, it was worth remembering. I shared it with an older woman who was across the aisle from me. Her letter was blunt and somewhat depressing–she didn’t seem to have much faith in the church. After I shared my letter, she said, “You’re young.” I asked her what she meant and she went on about how she isn’t very positive about the future of the church. I felt like she’d given up on the church. In a cynical way, she told me to ”stay idealistic.”

What? Aren’t we all supposed to be idealistic? What about hope? What about the hope that God is at work in the church? Then I thought, idealism isn’t a fault–it’s a gift. It’s a gift that has been given to the young and can be sustained throughout life. Will we listen to the idealism of young people? I certainly hope so. They can remind us all to stay idealistic.

I suppose I am still considered "young," though I feel less so these days.  But there is still an idealistic core in me that hasn't been burned away.  Not yet.  And I hope, not ever.  I hope I will always listen to the young around me who have an idealistic vision.  I hope I will always listen to that still small voice deep down that whispers of something greater.  A new day.  A new hope.  A better ideal. 

Maybe a few years down the road, I will re-read this, and remind myself.

that frickin' fear monster

Last week I felt so hopeful regarding the future. The combination of a new season with a few steps toward a new education made me feel more excited about new directions than I have felt in quite a while. It was a nice feeling. For a few days. Then the fear monster started looming its ugly head.

Mostly, I feel like the financial realities have come crashing down on my head. I talked to the financial aid office, but that wasn’t very helpful. Yes, I can get loans to cover the cost of school plus the cost of living expenses (since we can’t live without my financial contribution, but I can’t work and go to school full-time and be present in any meaningful way to my family). But that’s a huge amount of money. Huge. And what if I don't like it in the end?  What if I don't want to devote the rest of my working years to this particular career that I've now spent thousands and thousands of dollars on?  What if I regret all the family time I'd be giving up?  What if, what if, what if...?  Argh!!!

And then this morning I read this TribalChurch post about how some young adults actually stay away from church because they feel they can't afford it.  Though no amount of financial burden is going to keep me away from church (my husband works for one, after all!), I can relate to the feelings of inadequacy and frustration that traditional models of life and stewardship instill in me.  And taking on a financial burden that means we'll be living on the edge of solvency for years to come (though not forever) - how do I explain that to a finance committee?  Of course, I don't actually have to explain, but in my head I have these conversations!

And so the questions and the worries and the downright take-my-breath-away fears have been rearing their ugly heads the last few days.  I don't want to make the wrong decision, but I also don't want to coast along without making a decision just because I'm afraid.  And maybe there's not a wrong decision here - just different choices.  We make choices in life, and I don't believe that those choices are always between right and wrong.  Or even good and best.  Maybe sometimes it's just between two options that are both equally good and equally difficult.  Maybe I just have to choose. 

But maybe I don't have to fully choose yet.  For now, I think I'll take a few courses at a local community college - courses that can count as either credit or pre-reqs for the programs I'm considering.  Maybe that's good enough for a while.  And that frickin' fear monster can go back to hiding under the bed.

fall is here!

Summer has finally gone - woohoo!  There are many reasons I love the fall - cooler weather, beautiful trees, great food, a restful feeling.  The fall is not actually restful.  There's so much stuff packed into it, but somehow as Mother Nature prepares to sleep for a while, that sense of calm seeps a bit (a little bit!) into my psyche. 

And so today I am thankful for the following fall blessings:

• homemade apple butter
• Halloween decorations
• long-sleeve shirts
• pumpkin baking
• soon-to-be changing leaves
• a school willing to address My Girl's difficulties, even when they don't seem that difficult in comparison to the challenges of some others
• a newly-sewn fall outfit for My Girl (very simple, but still handmade)
• lots more outside time
• the sweet excitement of My Boy in preschool
• soup
• a newly painted kitchen and bedroom (good-bye navy blue walls - blech!)
• the smell of cinnamon and spice
• fingers tingly from the cold
• visiting friend and homecoming plans
• hope

Here are a few pictures in honor of the new season:

And because he's just so cute:

May this new season bring you a measure of joy and peace!



education regrets and steps

I have struggled recently with regretting my education.  Not the fact that I have an education, but the lack of practicality in my education.  A bachelors degree in chemistry plus and a masters of divinity degree do not qualify me for very many jobs.  And right now, I'm wishing they did.  I was never very career-driven and always imagined I'd be a missionary or a minister of some kind if I had a career at all.  But that didn't work out.  And though part of me would love to be a stay-at-home mom, it's just not an option for us.  Maybe that's good - I might be a lazy stay-at-home mom. 

And so I've wished and wished I had a more practical education.  Something that would qualify me for more than secretarial work (not that there's anything wrong with being a secretary, but it's not where I dreamed all that expensive education would lead). 

But I've wished and regretted far too much.  Because even though I don't use my chemistry degree, I loved my time at Duke and made some of the best friends of my life there.  I wouldn't be the same person today without that particular college experience.  And even though I don't use my M.Div. degree in any professional capacity, I loved my time at seminary, and it shaped my faith development in ways I am very thankful for.  I wouldn't be the same person today without that particular graduate experience.  And I also wouldn't have met my husband or had my two beautiful kids or met any of the many wonderful people I've known along the way.  So even though my education wasn't practical in career or financial terms, it was a huge blessing in so many other, more important ways.

But now that my original education is behind me and the financial realities of raising a family in this area are before me, I feel the need for a plan.  It would be so easy to coast along as I am, but I'm not really happy with that, so why not at least dream about a different future?  A few years ago, I looked into going back to graduate school, but then I had unexpected heart surgery.  And then I had another baby, so school plans were put on hold.  Now, though, my baby isn't a baby anymore, and it seems like the time to explore that option again.  I've been putting it off for about a year because I just don't see how we can swing the financial and time needs of another degree program, but that's a short-term worry, right?  With loans and creative scheduling, maybe it'll work.  Maybe.  I won't know unless I try! 

So this week I finally wrote a couple people at a local school to ask some questions.  And I've just about picked out the program I'd like to pursue.  I'm worried and nervous about this, but I'm also hopeful.  Just a small step forward, even when I'm not sure where that step will lead, helps me to feel less stuck.  I believe a bright future calls, if only I'm willing to step into it.