"The Angel of the Lord Encamps"

This is a setting of Psalm 34 that Phillip composed a few years ago (I can't remember exactly when). I recorded him singing and playing it this morning so that we could send it to a friend who recently had surgery to remove a brain tumor. That friend is now undergoing chemotherapy, and not too long ago she quoted from Psalm 34 on her Caring Bridge site, giving us the idea to make this recording for her. Psalm 34 is brimming with words of comfort for those going through trial, so I post this musical setting for anyone who might find comfort in it. "When the righteous cry for help, the Lord hears / and delivers them out of all their troubles" (Ps. 34:17).

"The Angel of the Lord Encamps" (Psalm 34) from Cheryl on Vimeo.

Where did I go wrong?

"Mom, make sure you get ice cream at the store. But not Blue Bell because I don't like Blue Bell."

I know. I don't get it either. You do everything right as a parent, and something like this happens. But hey, he's only 10. That gives me eight years to turn this thing around.

Let It Come

I know we're all walking around singing "Let it go" these days. Sometimes it's what we need to do. But long before Frozen there was Winnie-the-Pooh, and as Pooh patiently explains to Piglet in the passage below, sometimes it's not about letting things go, but letting them come.

Pooh and Piglet walked slowly after him [Tigger]. And as they walked Piglet said nothing, because he couldn't think of anything, and Pooh said nothing, because he was thinking of a poem. And when he had thought of it he began:

"What shall we do about poor little Tigger?

If he never eats nothing he'll never get bigger.
He doesn't like honey and haycorns and thistles
Because of the taste and because of the bristles.
And all the good things which an animal likes
Have the wrong sort of swallow or too many spikes."

"He's quite big enough anyhow," said Piglet.

"He isn't really very big."

"Well, he seems so."

Pooh was thoughtful when he heard this, and then he murmured to himself:

"But whatever his weight in pounds, shillings, and ounces,

He always seems bigger because of his bounces."

"And that's the whole poem," he said. "Do you like it, Piglet?"

"All except the shillings," said Piglet. "I don't think they ought to be there."

"They wanted to come in after the pounds," explained Pooh, "so I let them. It is the best way to write poetry, letting things come."

"Oh, I didn't know," said Piglet.

(From The Tales of Winnie-the-Pooh, "In Which Tigger Comes to the Forest and Has Breakfast")

It can be not only the best way to write poetry, but the best way to get through the day. My prayer for you today, dear readers, is that as you splash around in your baptism you are able to let go of that which needs to be washed away while letting the rest simply come. Please pray for me to do the same.

Lately

The season may not yet have changed on the calendar, but around here it certainly feels like it! We have spent the last week switching out of spring and into summer--and vacation!--mode.

We had our first social gathering last weekend. Having people over was a great motivator for getting the patio looking nice. I also put in a lot of time on the dining room, even down to unpacking the china.

There is still so much to do to make this house feel like a home. I have put hardly anything on the walls. (The piece pictured above carries great sentimental meaning so was one of the first things to go up.) To be honest, I am not sure how far we will get with decorating this house. It is a rental and is also a little smaller than what we hope to buy in the not too distant future. There are boxes (so many boxes) in the garage that will probably stay there, unopened, until they have a more permanent home.

We are loving our new church, more every day, and Oklahoma as well. The pace is relaxed, the people lovely, and the weather so far exquisite. I feel as though, for the first time in quite a long time, I'm not holding my breath. I'm sure finally having everyone together in one place is a huge part of that. I am trying not to think about how much that is going to change in about ten weeks.

Speaking of which, Caitlin's college plans are falling into place. She got her desired dorm assignment and has connected online with her suite mates. We go to orientation in two weeks! Two weeks after that we have a home school graduation! And about a week after that is our mother-daughter trip to New York City!

Phillip is doing much professional traveling this summer, but before he gets really busy we are sneaking off to Wichita in a few weeks to see our favorite concert artist, James Taylor. I've lost track of how many JT concerts we've gone to over the years. I would guess around ten.

Evan is having summer school. (The Philipp Nicolai Lutheran Academy never closes; it just adjusts itself, year round, to the needs of its students and teachers.) In a few weeks he will be attending Lutheran summer camp for the first time. Five nights away from home will be quite a test for the highly sensitive one. But he has come so far this year, and he will be bunking with friends. He has wanted to go to camp ever since he read about the Berenstain Bears doing it.

Trevor is working on his list of potential graduate schools. He is entering his senior year this fall and will enjoy a slightly lighter schedule as reward for the progress he has already made toward his degree. This summer he is doing some organ playing at church, substituting for his dad when he goes out of town.

My mom is doing well.

I have put out feelers for piano students, but have not had any takers. I would like to sign up a few students, as much to provide Evan some piano buddies as to make a few dollars. The next step will be to try to connect with the home school community, something I have not yet done.

It is time for me to get off the computer and go for a walk in this beautiful Oklahoma morning!

Ascension Eve

We celebrated The Ascension of Our Lord at my church last night. The Feast of the Ascension is actually today, but because we normally have a midweek liturgy every Wednesday, we had an Ascension Eve service instead, followed by a reception with lots of white, fluffy snacks (cream puffs, popcorn, and angel food cake, to name a few). It was a wonderful, festive service with brass, bells and choir, and the fellowship afterward was icing on the cake, with one side of the gym set up for the adults to visit and the other side equipped with beach balls and hula hoops for the children to play.

The video below is a ten-minute clip from the service, beginning with the Kyrie and ending with the Gospel. The sound quality is not the greatest, as the camera was set up right behind the piano and on top of the organ, but I share for those who may be interested. The musicians of Immanuel have made such wonderful progress this year and I can't wait to see what the future holds for them. This clip also features a young cantor named Evan singing several solos.

Here is a list of what is included in the clip with starting times for the musical selections:

"Alabaré" (LSB 799), 00:30
Psalm 47, setting by Thomas Tertius Noble, adult choir, 03:15
First reading, Acts 1:1-11
Alleluia & Verse (Matthew 28:20), 08:00
Holy Gospel, Luke 24:44-53

I love the service note my husband wrote for the bulletin. If you aren't sure what Ascension is all about, I hope the video and note, copied below, gives you a taste of this magnificent Feast. God has gone up with a shout!

 
Ascension Eve 2014 Immanuel Lutheran-Broken Arrow from Cheryl on Vimeo.

"The Church knows and confesses her Lord Jesus Christ. The Christ we confess is with us--even as He is now ascended and exalted over all things. We praise our Incarnate, Crucified, Risen, and Ascended Lord today, whose glorious Ascension assures us that we too have an eternal place in our Father's house. We long for the day when He will come to bring about the end of this age, and give thanks that He sends His Spirit to draw us to Him until the day of His return. We rejoice in His presence among us this day and pray that, with the Lord's help, we may be able to bring our friends and neighbors to come and share in our great and certain hope while there is still time."

Our Patio

One of the things I am loving most about our new (rent) house is the patio. Our house in Illinois had one (that is, after we removed the sunroom and poured a patio in its place), but we didn't spend a great deal of time on it. It wasn't covered. It was on the east side of the house, so the light and heat from the sun were too intense (in my opinion) for enjoying coffee outside in the morning. Our patio furniture (hard, white resin from the big box store) also left a bit to be desired.

When we found our house in Oklahoma we were surprised to discover that it came with patio furniture. Not only that, but the patio has a roof with ceiling fan! The last few weeks have been gorgeous, and we have discovered the joy of mornings and evenings on the patio. I only pray this weather lasts a while longer!

I have been slowly adding flowerpots. 

Room for the whole family!

Breakfast outside. :-)

Still Here

Almost two weeks without a post! My, how time flies! I think that is the longest I have gone in a while. I wish I could say it's due to my making prodigious progress in some other aspect of life, but alas, that would not be accurate. I haven't started writing a book, nor have I found a job or sewn a new dress (I don't sew) or planted a vegetable garden or planned out all the meals and shopping for the rest of the summer. No, the best I can say is that I've been getting through the days and enjoying them, mostly. That's worth a two-week blogging hiatus, isn't it?

Here are a few of the things I have done over the last two weeks.

Got my son home from college. Yay!

Finished reading The Fault in Our Stars. Yay!

Watched four movies: Dead Poets Society (repeat viewing), Lars and the Real Girl (first time), Mary Poppins (repeat view), and Saving Mr. Banks (first time). Yay!

Watched the Oklahoma City Thunder secure a position in the NBA Western Conference Finals. Yay!

Unpacked the good china and glassware and put it in the china cabinet. Yay!

Started planning in earnest for several significant summer events involving Caitlin: her graduation from our home school in late June and our mother-daughter trip to New York City in early July. Yay!

Enjoyed a lovely Mother's Day with everyone under one roof. Yay!

Scheduled our first social gathering in our new house. Yikes! (This is a yay, too, but I do have some more work to do before we have company this weekend!)

In our house we sometimes speak of the "yay's" and the "waaah's." It's nice to look back over the last two weeks and see how many of the first category there have been. Not that there haven't been minor frustrations and annoyances. But I must say that spring in Oklahoma so far has been stellar, and I am looking forward with anticipation to what I hope will be a long, lazy summer full of many more yay's!

Reading Challenge

Periodically one of my friends posts something online about taking part in a reading challenge. Such a challenge typically involves coming up with a list of books to read in a given period of time. There was a time I would have embraced so worthy a goal, but these days it sends me running in the opposite direction. You see, I don't like failure. Avoiding situations in which its occurrence is predestined is one of my basic guiding principles.

Still, I do believe in the value of reading, and by "reading" I mean "reading books." I worry that in our headline-driven, Twitter-dominated society, human beings, myself included, are losing the ability to concentrate on complex ideas for extended periods of time. I also miss the joy I used to take in getting lost in a good book. So last year I created my own reading challenge, which goes something like this: "Pick out a book and read it." 

You think I'm joking. I'm not. Right now, it's the best I can do. And for the most part, it's working for me. I've read more books over the last year than I've read over the last five years. I'm not going to tell you how many books that actually is.

Recently, though, I seem to have hit a snag. I have tried one book and another and nothing has grabbed me. So I finally did the obvious thing: I asked my daughter for a suggestion. She readily obliged, and I started the book she gave me a few nights ago night. At this writing I am ten chapters in.

The book is The Fault in Our Stars by John Green, one of Caitlin's favorite YA (Young Adult) authors. I am impressed. The story is engaging, and so is the first person narrator. But one of the things I am most appreciating is the style. For me style is as important as story. When it comes right down to it, plot lines can be reduced to a few essential arcs. People are born. They die. Along the way they do stuff. The greatness of a book is in the telling, in the ability to memorably and freshly cut to the truth of a situation in a way that makes you say, "Yes, that is exactly it." I am seeing this characteristic in abundance in The Fault in Our Stars. I am also meeting characters who are real and likable and intelligent. The book does not come across as one written for teenagers. It is devoid of clichés. It is a book about the human condition, and that is something that has no age limit. Here is an example that I think can be understood and appreciated without context or comment.

"She didn't want to dump a blind guy," I said. He nodded, the tears not like tears so much as a quiet metronome--steady, endless.

"She said she couldn't handle it," he told me. "I'm about to lose my eyesight and she can't handle it."

I was thinking about the word handle, and all the unholdable things that get handled. "I'm sorry," I said.

He wiped his sopping face with a sleeve. Behind his glasses, Isaac's eyes seemed so big that everything else on his face kind of disappeared and it was just these disembodied floating eyes staring at me--one real, one glass. "It's unacceptable," he told me. "It's totally unacceptable."

"Well, to be fair," I said, "I mean, she probably can't handle it. Neither can you, but she doesn't have to handle it. And you do."

"I kept saying 'always' to her today, 'always always always,' and she just kept talking over me and not saying it back. It was like I was already gone, you know? 'Always' was a promise! How can you just break the promise?"

"Sometimes people don't understand the promises they're making when they make them," I said.

Isaac shot me a look. "Right, of course. But you keep the promise anyway. That's what love is. Love is keeping the promise anyway. Don't you believe in true love?"

I didn't answer. I didn't have an answer. But I thought that if true love did exist, that was a pretty good definition of it.

There's a lot more where that came from. I think I'll get back to reading. And when I'm done I'll ask a girl named Caitlin what my next book should be. 

A New Blog

Several weeks ago, one of my online Lutheran friends launched a new blog. It is distinctive in that it is written by women, for women. The result is promising, and I encourage you to check out Sister, Daughter, Mother, Wife. You might recognize the author of today's installment.

Rethinking Worship

This is one of the best things I have read on worship in a long time.

"Many congregations lose the Divine Service in what turns into little more than a performance. Other congregations, on the other hand, take a functionalistic view. As long as there is an organist, six or seven hymns we all like, and a liturgy, we’re fine.

Can I just say that neither attitude, it seems to me, really upholds the Divine Service and the gifts Christ gives in it?"

Read the rest here.

First Day of May

It was a race this morning to see who could find and post it first. Phillip won. That's okay with me because we're in this together and for the first time in a long time, it feels like a new beginning. Thank you, dear Father in heaven, for this and all the days you so graciously give.

And the light between us
Which we could not quite extinguish
Which we see at dawn
Burns on

First day of May
Things are beginning
Our side is winning
Hip hip hooray
Made in the shade
Deep in the shadow
Down by the meadow
Lie in my arms

And the moon will rise
Before our very eyes
We will rise too
I'll be with you
It's a rite of spring
A horizontal thing
The sweetest sort of dance
Hidden in among the plants

Ha ha ha ha
People are laughing
Children are singing
Come join the dance

And the walls around us
Which we kept at such a cost
When we turned around
Came tumbling down

Ha ha ha ha
She can't stop laughing
He can't stop singing
First day of May

 

She's Like the Wind

For those of you who also follow my daughter's blog, she has changed her URL. Yes, again. :-) You can now find her at the edge of everywhere (in my estimation a very good place to be, seeing as how you'll be running into a girl named Caitlin there). Link below.

edge-of-everywhere.blogspot.com

We have a winner!

For months now a certain young woman of our household has been weighing the pros and cons of several institutions of higher learning that have been vying for her matriculation. As of yesterday, we have a victor. Come August, Caitlin will be enrolling at Truman State University!

The wonderful thing about this is that Truman has mostly been Caitlin's preference all along. It is known for rigorous liberal arts, is academically strong, is on the smallish side as colleges go (6,000 students), economical by today's standards (out-of-state cost around $22,000/year), and is in the quiet town of Kirksville, Missouri (population about 17,000). It is appealing geographically (we can drive there in seven hours.) There is a Lutheran campus center and an LCMS church in town that picks up the students for worship on Sunday. Truman advertises itself as the most selective public institution in Missouri and is consistently on various national "best" lists. Throughout Caitlin's search Truman has been the most communicative and attentive, reaching out to her repeatedly with phone calls, mailings, and personal messages, including from the Director of Admissions. Truman was first in line with a clear and competitive scholarship and financial aid package, and we were tempted to have Caitlin accept it before now. But mindful of the importance of this decision, and knowing Caitlin had until May 1 to accept, we advised her to wait and watch to see if there might be something else forthcoming from one of the other schools she was considering that would put them ahead. And, of course, we prayed that the way would be made clear.

In sum, there has been nothing from any other school to surpass the offer from Truman, and a few weeks ago Caitlin received notice that they had enhanced their original offer to the tune of another $1000/year. Woo-hoo! We are thrilled, and Caitlin is so relieved to finally have some closure and to be able to start making concrete plans. Here we go again with number two and all the excitement mixed with sadness that that entails for Caitlin's parents. This week we are getting a taste of what life will be like in the fall with only me and Phillip, Evan and Grandma in the house (Caitlin is visiting friends). I'm not liking it much, but I am overjoyed for my daughter. Truman State University, a tip of the hat to you for appreciating the mind and heart of this young woman and for going to work to reel her in. We are looking forward to the next four years.

 Grim Hall, Caitlin's first choice of dorm.

 Downtown Kirksville

GO BULLDOGS!

Mega-Rehearsal!

I wish I could get close enough to capture faces, but I am usually chained to the piano. The expressions of joy, concentration, and faithfulness on people's faces are sights to behold. One lady who plays brass, rings bells, and sings with the choir in our congregation was there Tuesday night as long as Cantor (6:00-9:00). To everyone attending Holy Week services, give your faithful musicians an extra pat on the back this week. Even better, send chocolate. And pray for them, that they may have strength and health and protection from the attacks of Satan, who likes nothing better than to go after pastors and musicians right before Christmas and Easter. God bless you as we enter the Great Three Days, and soli Deo gloria!

 Rehearsing "Christ is Risen, He is Risen Indeed."

 Our wonderful choir and director.

Our "oboe" player for Good Friday.  

"You part the waters like this."

Why I Love Holy Week

There are many reasons, of course. But one big one is the lack of ambiguity. From one day to the next, I don't have to think about what to do because it's already decided. I don't have to wonder what it all means because I already know. The focus is clear, the to-do list pre-determined, and there is nothing left for me but to submit. It's like Sunday, writ large. Liturgy, how I love thee!

"Go to dark Gethsemane,

All who feel the tempter's pow'r;

Your Redeemer's conflict see,

Watch with Him one bitter hour;

Turn not from His griefs away;

Learn from Jesus Christ to pray."

Lutheran Service Book 436, Stanza 1

Le Saintes Femmes au Tombeau

William-Adolphe Bouguereau (1825-1905)

A 10-Year-Old and a Gentleman

We went to the mall yesterday, our first time since moving to Oklahoma. Mall shopping is a rare event for this family, something only done when the neighborhood stores do not suffice (read: every couple of years). On this trip we were shopping for several items for Caitlin, who will be attending a prom next week, and for Evan, who needs something decent to wear for Easter. (He is down to sweats and a few pairs of almost outgrown pants.) We had fun! It's a nice mall and it wasn't too crowded yesterday. We ate Dippin' Dots for the first time ever. There was a Dillard's! (I don't think I've been in a Dillard's since we left Texas.) I was reminded how much more there is out there than just what Kohl's and Target carry.

I was also reminded that more is not always better. As we finished our shopping and were retracing our steps to leave the mall, I noticed that Evan was keeping his head turned sideways, avoiding looking to his right. He explained, "There are ladies in their underwear, Mom. They shouldn't be in the mall. There are children here." I looked over to see--what else?--the Victoria's Secret boutique.

Indeed, Evan. There are children in the mall. And some of them have more sense than the "grownups."

Bada Bing

Yesterday, while making lunch.

Evan: "Mom, sometimes I feel sorry for you. You work so hard."

Me: "It's okay, Evan. It's what moms do. It's why we appreciate getting pampered on Mother's Day."

Evan: "What's 'pampered'?"

Caitlin: "It's what you are right now."

Humility

Evan: "I'm nervous about my Good Friday solo. I don't know if I can sing all alone without the piano. What if I make a mistake and embarrass myself?"

Caitlin: "Of course you can do it, Evan. Trevor did it when he was younger. I did it, too. If we can do it, you can do it. You're just as good a singer as we were at your age."

Evan: "Really? Mom says I'm better."

Maybe this is why there's a plastic pirate in my suitcase.

It's one of the little pieces of the past still scattered around my house that I can't bring myself to get rid of.

I found it years ago, tucked in a side pocket. I remember when it was purchased. It was part of a set I bought at a chess tournament in which Trevor was competing. At the time Evan was a baby in a stroller. How many chess tournaments I dragged him and his sister to! We would hang out in hotel lobbies or malls or libraries while Trevor played, and I would do my best to occupy the non-chess players for the day. I don't know what happened to the rest of this set, but somewhere along the way this lone guy ended up in my suitcase. For years now that's where he has remained, a symbol of a time long past. He has gone on lots of trips with me over the years. I forget about him between trips, but when I go to pack I reach into the pocket and there he still is, and somehow there is comfort in his being, and remaining, there. I think he may stay there always, and some day accompany me when I pay a visit to Evan and his wife and children.

But for now, like the author of "The Last One," I will treasure these days of still having a boy who, even in his ten-year-old bigness, wants to crawl up on my lap, put his arms around my neck, lay his head on my shoulder, and whisper in my ear, "I love you so much, Mom." He's not quite grown up yet, Mr. Pirate Man. And somewhere inside him there will always be that little boy who repeatedly dropped you from his stroller and reached his arms up to me, begging to be lifted out. Together, we'll hold on to the memory.

Repeating History

Right now in history Evan and I are studying the seventeenth century. Our text is Susan Wise Bauer's The Story of the World: History for the Classical Child. Several days ago we read about Oliver Cromwell and the Puritan Revolution. One passage left us laughing so robustly that Evan demanded it be read again and again:

Now that Parliament had been dissolved by force, Cromwell and his army generals appointed a new Parliament, made up of 139 men "fearing God and of approved fidelity and honesty." This Parliament became known as the Barebones Parliament, after one of its members, a Puritan minister named Praise-God Barebones."

Sounds like something out of Spongebob Squarepants, doesn't it? No wonder Evan loved it.

The experience of reading alongside my child, laughing and learning with him, is one of the best things about homeschooling. I knew about Oliver Cromwell. But reading about him again with Evan, I learned some things (such as the fact above) that I never knew before. More important, as I revisited that period of history, I was struck by how familiar it all sounded. Consider this passage, just a few paragraphs after the one quoted above:

Cromwell still called England a commonwealth, but now it was being ruled by his own hand-picked men, not by the people of England. Six months later, this Nominated Assembly of men loyal to Cromwell passed a new bill. This bill announced, "Parliament now gives all of its powers to Oliver Cromwell, to act on behalf of the people of England!" 

Oliver Cromwell had become the new king of England.

He was never called "king." Instead, he was given the title Lord Protector of England. And he was supposed to call Parliament every two years and listen to what the members of Parliament advised him to do.

But Cromwell certainly seemed like a king. He moved his family into the royal palace. The ceremony to make him Lord Protector looked an awful lot like a coronation ceremony. His advisors often called him "Your Highness." And when Parliament refused to do exactly what he said, he scolded its members, telling them that he spoke for God and that they were opposing God Himself when they opposed the Lord Protector. "I undertook this government in the simplicity of my heart and as before God . . . to do the part of an honest man," he explained. "I speak for God and not for men." When Parliament continued to oppose Cromwell, he announced, "I think . . . that it is not for the profit of [England], nor for [the] common and public good, for you to continue here any longer. And therefore I do declare unto you, that I do dissolve this Parliament." 

No doubt you have heard the Santayana quote that those who do not know history are doomed to repeat it. More and more, I think that even those who do know history are doomed to repeat it. The older I get the more it seems that there are a few basic storylines that repeatedly play themselves out on the human stage, whether on the world level or in our little, everyday lives. Still, I think it's important to study history. But maybe the point of doing so is not because we realistically have much hope of affecting it, but so that we can better understand our place in it. And what is that place? I am beginning to think it is nothing more than to hold on for dear life as God tries, time and again, to show us the hopelessness of trusting in rulers, or institutions, or learning, or money, or even dear loved ones, more than in Him and His love for us. We have to function within the framework of all of those things. But our nature is to make each of them into little gods that we turn to as sources of meaning and progress for our lives. I know I keep doing that and I don't know how to stop myself. But reading stories from history that remind me of the futility of such misplaced faith tends to put the brakes on, at least for a time.