Sunday, April 18, 2010

"She was sitting there waiting for something or somebody and, since sitting and waiting was the only thing to do just then, she sat and waited with all her might and main."
This past weekend I went to the Alabama All-State Choral Festival, and below are the texts from two of my favorite pieces performed by the Middle School SSA choir. Above is an excerpt from Anne of Green Gables I read while sitting underneath a tree atop the steps of the Wright Center for the Performing Arts. *le sigh*




Will there really be a "Morning"?
Is there such a thing as "Day"?
Could I see it from the mountains
If I were as tall as they?

Has it feet like Water lilies?
Has it feathers like a Bird?
Is it brought from famous countries
Of which I have never heard?

Oh some Scholar! Oh some Sailor!
Oh some Wise Men from the skies!
Please to tell a little Pilgrim
Where the place called "Morning" lies!

(Morning! Morning! Where does morning lie?)
~Emily Dickinson

Omnia Sol (Let Your Heart be Staid)

Somewhere far from nowhere, I grew both strong and tall,
Longing to become, but knowing not the path at all.
But the footprints of the winter melted to fields of spring;
One last embrace before I cross the threshold: To life we sing!

O stay your soul and leave my heart it's song,
O stay your hand, the journey may be long.
And when we part and sorrow can't be sway'd, remember when and let your heart be staid.

Omnia sol temperat,
Absens in remota.
Ama me fideliter,
Fidem mean noto.

(Latin: "The sun warms everything, even while I am far away. Love me faithfully, and know that I am faithful" from Carmina Burana by Carl Orff)

Weave the dance and raise the chorus, grieve no more.
Through the strength of Orion find refuge from the shore.
Let courage be your oar, let passion be your sail.
Wisdom and truth will guide your deep heart's yearning, though all travail.

O stay your soul and leave my heart it's song,
O stay your hand, the journey may be long.
And when we part and sorrow can't be sway'd, remember when and let your heart be staid.

Omnia sol temperat,
Absens in remota.
Ama me fideliter,
Fidem mean noto.

Omnia sol temperat,
Ah
And when we part and sorrow can't be sway'd,
Remember when,
(Remember when)
And let your heart be staid,
Be staid.

Psalm 25:5

(ESV)
Lead me in your truth and teach me,
for you are the God of my salvation;
for you I wait all the day long

Psalm 145:16

You open your hand;
you satisfy the desire of every living thing.

P.S. The ad in the middle of this post really aggravates me...

Saturday, April 10, 2010

Taking a break

Temporarily cluttered house
Small Town, Alabama

I am taking a break from trying to incorporate Miss Evangeline Travers' musings into those of my own, because, quite frankly, they all tend to deal with men and marriage and today is not a day to be filled with such silliness. Rather, it is filled with other silliness.

I went to CHOM today to work a birthday party that had apparently been canceled, which was actually just fine with me. To justify the drive into town and to clear my head, I went to River Road Park, gathered my planner, fresh journal, and iPod, and walked to my favorite bench.

Well, where my favorite bench used to be. At first, I might have been perturbed, but I knew it was only a matter of time. My favorite bench happened to sit on a cement slab on an overhang at the edge of the Black Warrior River. The drop-off has been eroding away for years, and the good people of PARA or UA (or whoever is in charge of the park now) finally decided having a bench here was a safety hazard. Now, all that's left is the cement slab jutting out over the Black Warrior. So, after convincing myself I wasn't going to fall to my death only to spend my last moments alive as a biohazard, I settled down on said cement slab and had my time.

I spent my time regaining my bearings on the weeks to come, soaking in the cool, fresh air and sunshine on my skin, and journaled for as long as I could stand the pollen. When I could no longer smell the water (which was rejuvenating, even for the Black Warrior), I packed up and walked back to the car. Even though I couldn't smell the water anymore, since I left the park, it's felt like I've been trying to breathe underwater.

Came home and leisurely cleaned out my car, and now am itching in general and itching to clean and rearrange my room.

Alas, when I took a break to blog (ha), P.S. I Love You came on, chasing the heels of A Walk to Remember.

O, Evangeline, I can't escape it!

Tuesday, April 6, 2010

;and, oh, I am going to see life! and it is absurd to be sad!

Night



I do think men are the most horrid creatures—you can’t believe what they say or rely upon them for five minutes! Mrs. Carruthers was right;
she said, “Evangeline, remember, it is quite difficult enough to trust one’s
self without trusting a man.”


Mmhmm.

Such an afternoon I have had! That annoying feeling of waiting for something all the time and nothing happening. For Mr. Carruthers did not turn up, after all. How I wish I had not dressed and expected him! He is probably saying to himself he is well out of the business, now I have gone. I don't suppose he meant a word of his protestations to me. Well, he need not worry. I had not intention of jumping down his throat; only, I would have been glad to see him, because he is human, and not like anyone here.
Of course Lord Robert will be the same, and I shall probably never see either of them again.



Evangeline kind of hits the nail on the head. "How I wish I had not dressed and expected him."

Yes, I'm still railing on about stupid old flame.

I believe I have the perfect words to tell him off for good. Now, I just have to be brave enough to dial his number, wait for him to ignore my call, and leave the voicemail.

But something holds me back-- Would this really be me being brave?

Would it even make a difference? If I knew that getting the words out there, even if he never heard them, would make me feel something resembling relief, I would do it, no problem. But there is this fear of mine of feeling foolish after-the-fact.

Would it sever all ties for good?

Do I want that?

I ask too many questions.

I need Jesus.


I feel now I shall never marry, for years. Of course one can’t be an old maid, but for a long time I mean to see life first.

Monday, April 5, 2010

A titsy-pootsy man

Tryland Court Headington,
Wednesday, November 9th


Malcom is a titsy-pootsy man...




I don't like kilts--unless men are big, strong, bronzed creatures that don't seem ashamed of their bare bits.


The inner workings of my mind and any computer station I can find


This is for my sister-cousin. Ü


Wednesday, November 9th
(Continued)


It appears [Malcom] has got into trouble over a horse called Angela Grey--Jean gathered this from Lady Katherine; she said her father was very angry about it, as he had spent so much money on it.
To me, it does not sound like a horse's name, and I told Jean so, but she was perfectly horrified, and said it must be a horse, because they were not acquainted with any Angel Grey, and did not even know any Greys at all. So it must be a horse!
I think that a ridiculous reason, as Mrs. Carruthers said all young men knew people one wouldn't want to; and it was silly to make a fuss about it, and that hey couldn't help it, and they would be very dull if they were as good as gold, like girls.


This is for all of those boys who wonder why good girls like bad boys--
I think it has very little to do with whether or not the guy is "good" or "bad," but how said boy makes them feel.




"You do surprise me about love,” I said. “I had no idea it was a violent kind of thing like that. I thought it began with grave reverence and respect, and after years of offering flowers and humble compliments, and bread-and-butter at tea-parties, the
gentleman went down upon one knee and made a declaration—“Clara Maria, I adore
you; be mine’—and then one put out a lily-white hand and, blushing, told him to rise; but that can’t be your sort, and you have not yet explained what temptation means.”

“It means more or less wanting to do what you ought not to.”

Women are human, too. Women want the reverence and respect, to be sure; however, we do also want to feel attractive, wanted, and (dare I say it?) sexy. *GASP* Especially when nobody has ever caused a woman to feel that way, when she finds someone that does, she does one of two things: Runs away or embraces it.


I'm becoming the kind that embraces.


I would like to point out the difference between feeling sexy and feeling like a sex object.

The third definition of the word "sexy" (thank you, dictionary.com) is


excitingly appealing; glamorous

"Excitingly appealing." Yes! That's precisely it! For a young woman who feels twice her age and is bracing for a 20-year-long mid-life crisis, feeling that someone thinks of me that way is something I welcome with open arms.



He did look such a teeny shrimp climbing after me! But it does not matter what is their size, the vanity of men is just the same.


The vanity and the self-satisfying nature of all humankind, but esepcially of the males in my romantic past, is terribly indiscriminate. "It don't matter what you look like..."

This is all totally cliché, and I apologize for that, but I guess I am just tired of being fooled by guys into thinking they are not the stereotypical commitment-phobes depicted on television and in films, but once again, art imitates life (or at least romantic comedies do...), then later finding out they really are. Or, another favorite, the guys who are the antithesis of said commitment-phobes, but the "eager beavers" (har har) of commitment-- the guys who want to get married so they can have the trophy wife to control and the picture-perfect, nuclear family life to flaunt as their own success.

What I'd like is a happy medium.

The man who offers flowers, humble compliments, and bread-and-butter that also makes me feel... well, who just makes me feel. I have tried sacrificing one for the other, and it simply does not work.

I know men who fit that happy medium exist. Two such men helped to raise me, and because of them I have incredibly high standards. I am so grateful for their presence in my life, even though they have ruined me. Ü
Now, I am just waiting for God to point me in the direction of a man who honestly meets those standards. Who knows? I may already be on that path. Probably not, but anything is possible. Even if I were listening my best, I still wouldn't know, and ya know, the more I think about it, I don't want to know. I have finally found, after 8 years of trying with all that I am to know for certain God's Will, that I would rather not know. It makes it much easier to trust and to follow what God has for me.

Think about it: You think you know what it is God wants for you, so you try with all of your might to make it happen. Who's in control now?

As a victim of failed planning and misconception, I choose to do what is right, dash the consequences, and go wherever the Spirit leads me. [LORD, please grant me wisdom.]

Not my will, but Thine.

...but Lord? It'd be nice to have a little fun along the way... :-}


Now I must stop and dress. I shall put on a black tea-frock I have. Mr. Carruthers shall see I have not caught frumpdom from my hosts.

Saturday, April 3, 2010

Undone

"'It is accomplished'; and bowing his head he gave up his spirit."
~John 19:30

"'Father, into your hands I commit my spirit.' With these words he breathed his last."
~Luke 23:46

And I am undone.

Fourth song of the servant of Yahweh
Isaiah 52:13-53:12
(emphasis added)

See, my servant will prosper,
he shall be lifted up, exalted, rise to great heights.
As the crowds were appalled on seeing him
--so disfigured did he look
that he seemed no longer human--
so will the crowds be astonished at him, and kings stand speechless before him; for they shall see something never told and witness something never heard before:

'Who could believe what we have heard,
and to whom has the power of Yahweh been revealed?'
Like a sapling he grew up in front of us,
like root in arid ground.
Without beauty, without majesty (we saw him),
no looks to attract our eyes;
a thing despised and rejected by men,
a man of sorrows and familiar with suffering,
a man to make people screen their faces;
he was despised and we took no account of him.

And yet ours were the sufferings he bore,
ours the sorrows he carried.
But we, we thought of him as someone punished,
struck by God, and brought low.
Yet he was pierced through for our thoughts,
crushed for our sins.
On him lies a punishment that brings us peace,
and through his wounds we are healed.

We had all gone astray like sheep,
each taking his own way,
And Yahweh burdened him
with the sins of all of us.
Harshly dealt with, he bore it humbly,
he never opened his mouth,
like a lamb that is led to the slaughter-house,
like a sheep that is dumb before its shearers
never opening its mouth.

By force and by law he was taken;
would anyone plead his cause?
Yes, he was torn away from the land of the living;
for our faults struck down in death.
They gave him a grave with the wicked,
a tomb with the rich,
though he had done no wrong
and there had been no perjury in his mouth.
Yahweh has been pleased to crush him with suffering.
If he offers his life in atonement,
he shall see his heirs, he shall have a long life
and through him what Yahweh wishes will be done.

His soul's anguish over
he shall see the light and be content.
By his sufferings shall my servant justify many,
taking their faults on himself.

Hence I will grant whole hordes for his tribute,
he shall divide the spoil with the mighty,
for surrendering himself to death
and letting himself be taken for a sinner,
while he was bearing the faults of many
and praying all the time for sinners.

"With so many witnesses in a great cloud on every side of us, we too, then, should throw of everything that hinders us, especially the sin that clings so easily, and keep running steadily in the race we have started.
Let us not lose sight of Jesus, who leads us in our faith and brings it to perfection; for the sake of the joy which was still in the future, he endured the cross, disregarding the shamefulness of it, and from now on has taken his place at the right of God's throne.
Think of the way he stood such opposition from sinners and then you will not give up for want of courage. In the fight against sin you have not yet had to keep fighting to the point of death."
~Hebrews 12:1-3

These are the kinds of things that crossed my mind last night after our Tenebrae service at church. I walked the prayer labyrinth they set up each year for Good Friday, and the words God began whispering to me during the Maundy Thursday service grew louder.

"I am here."

After feeling distant from the presence of God for quite some time, these words are still overwhelming. I continued to confess my sins and apologize for the ways in which I have fallen short of His glorious expectations for me, and I heard these words in the corridors of my heart.

"Your humanity is a gift I have given you. You've learned to embrace it, and I am proud of you. Now, come back to me."

Taking those first steps back toward the cross (placed at the center of the labyrinth) were momentarily terrifying. I told God that I could not come back the same person I once was, and that's when I realized he does not expect me or want me to do so.

As I wove through the labyrinth, following the same path countless others had taken before me, I noted how most of the time, I was farther from the cross than I was near it. This is so true of life. One of my prayers for my life has been that I keep God as a sailor keeps the stars. A sailor may not follow the exact path prescribed from the outset of the voyage, but as long as he keeps the stars, he still reaches his destination.
Until the fairly recent past, I was terrified of straying from the prescribed path; so afraid that I was too scared to even move. I stayed safe where I was, and lived in fear of moving. I no longer keep to that fear; I have and will continue to go out to deep waters (Luke 5:1-11), knowing that God is guiding me and carrying me all the way.

No matter how my path weaves through life, drawing near and far from the cross in proximity, the cross is always there, at the center, and in sight; just like the Love it represents and the Love poured out on the cross.

The knots and the mess I have made of myself and my life are undone.

Branches
Saturday afternoon, November 5th

And so it has come to an end, my life at Branches.

Cluttered West Alabama Living Room
Saturday afternoon

And so it has come to an end, my life as I know it.

I am going to start a new phase of existence, my first beginning as an adventuress!
How completely all one's ideas can change in a few days! This day three weeks ago Mrs. Carruthers was alive. This day two weeks ago I found myself no longer a prospective heiress, and only three days ago I was contemplating calmly the possibility of marrying Mr. Carruthers; and now, for heaven, I would not marry anyone! And so, for fresh woods and pastures new! Oh, I want to see the world, and lots of different human beings; I want to know what it is makes the clock go round--that great big lock of life. I want to dance and to sing and to laugh and to live--and--and--yes, perhaps some day to kiss someone I love!