Just Playing It Normal

I’ve enjoyed watching my six-year-old violin student blossom this Christmas season. She recently became a confident music reader, and she is learning one Christmas carol after another. She knows no fear. She’ll try any song in her book. That doesn’t mean she’ll play it right. “Silver Bells” has a G sharp. She hasn’t learned that note yet. “I’ll just play it normal,” she told her mom. Her mom and I cringed.

I don’t mean to be picky, but mostly right isn’t right enough. It’s painful. I certainly wouldn’t tell my orchestra conductor, “Don’t worry about that exposed second violin part. We’re almost in tune!”

But how often do I slip into this mentality in my private life? I’m good most of the time. I’m only snippy with my sister once in a while. I was only a little impatient with that student. I only held a little grudge against that person who wronged me.

God has designed an amazing symphony for us to perform with our lives, and I mostly play the right notes. Why should He care if I skip a G sharp once in a while and “just play it normal”? When I tune my ears to hear the symphony the way God composed it, I understand. Then I, too, cringe at my missed sharps and out-of-tune notes.

And that’s the meaning of Christmas. I couldn’t play it right so God joined me. He took on human flesh. He came to die for me because I could not be perfect. He joined the second violin section because I could not play alone.

O little town of Bethlehem,
How still we see thee lie!
Above thy deep and dreamless sleep
The silent stars go by.
Yet in thy dark streets shineth
The everlasting Light;
The hopes and fears of all the years
Are met in thee tonight.

O holy Child of Bethlehem,
Descend to us, we pray;
Cast out our sin, and enter in;
Be born to us today.
We hear the Christmas angels
The great glad tidings tell;
O come to us, abide with us,
Our Lord Emmanuel.

Eating off Jewish Plates

The line at our church potluck parted like the Red Sea, half to the right of the food table and half to the left.

“Some of these plates are Jewish,” remarked the man across from me.

I gave him a puzzled look.

“We got them from the synagogue,” he explained as he examined the bottom of his plate to find out if he had one of the special plates.

I didn’t bother looking at the bottom of mine. I was more interested in the food. But it did make me think about how often we eat from Jewish plates at church. I’m not talking about literal plates anymore. Most churches aren’t blessed to have Jewish dinnerware in their cupboards, but we all have it in our Bibles. It’s called the Old Testament.

Too often we rush on to the food in the New Testament. That’s where we find things written directly to us. Besides, it’s not as boring as long descriptions about what to do if you find a leprous spot in your wall, how to sacrifice animals, and how many rings to put in the curtains of the tabernacle.

But we miss so much in the New Testament if we don’t understand the Old. In the Old Testament we learn of the holiness of God, and we get a picture of the filthiness of our sin. We learn why death is the punishment for sin and are assured someone can take that punishment for us. We marvel at the care God put into all the details of His dwelling place—the tabernacle. Without that, can we ever understand the wonder of the fact that our bodies are now the temple of the Holy Ghost?

Yes, we can get tasteful bites from the New Testament even if we haven’t read the Old. We can grab a couple chips or a carrot or even a cupcake. But we’ll never get a full meal until we pick up that Jewish plate.

Promising to Lie

Summer is a wonderful time to pursue interests that get squeezed out of my schedule the rest of the year. Over the past few months I have dabbled in everything from molecular biology to Russian history and fantasy fiction.

In July I discovered our local library has the first two books of Lloyd Alexander’s The Chronicles of Prydain on CD. A little children’s fiction sounded perfect for a mental break. I checked them out.

The fast-paced plot had me looking for cooking or cleaning jobs to do so I could listen to another chapter. I’m attached to the characters—noble Adaon, loveable Gurgi, and the eager Taran, determined to win honor.

But one scene disturbed me.  Ellidyr agrees to help Taran with a crucial task on one condition: Taran and his comrades must swear an oath that they will lie about what happened. Isn’t that a contradiction? Can you trust someone who promises to lie? Can you trust someone who promises to help on condition that you lie?

On a deeper level, I wonder if Taran surrendered his most powerful weapon when he swore the oath. Solzhenitsyn, the Russian literary giant, faced the might of the Soviet Union with the weapon of truth. Václav Havel led the Czechs to freedom, relying on the same weapon. Os Guiness explained in a lecture at Stanford in 2005:

      …they were aware there were only two ways they could bring down the Soviets: either they had to trump Soviet power with equal or more power—they were a handful of dissidents—unthinkable, or they had to counter Soviet power with another type of power altogether. So that’s what they did, with the power of truth. “Truth prevails for those who live in truth.” And the unthinkable happened. They won.

I wonder if I were Taran, would I have the courage to live by the truth and refuse Ellidyr’s offer, even if it cost me my life? I may never know. But I can choose to live in the truth today.

As Solzhenitsyn said, “One word of truth outweighs the entire world.”

The Day God Went Missing

Mary thought she knew where Jesus was on Easter morning, but all she found was an empty tomb. “Where have you moved him?” she cried with anguished sobs.

Too often I am like Mary. I think I know where God is and what He should be doing. But I don’t feel His presence. I don’t see Him act. “Where are You?” my voice echoes through the tomb.

God isn’t there. He has a plan much bigger than mine. I may not understand it yet. But this seeming catastrophe might be God’s answer to the needs of my heart and those of the whole world.

May I reach out in faith this Easter and trust Him even when the tomb is empty. Because the tomb is empty. Because He is God.

            “For my thoughts are not your thoughts, neither are your ways my ways, saith the Lord. For as the heavens are higher than the earth, so are my ways higher than your ways, and my thoughts than your thoughts.” Isaiah 55:8-9

The Road to Multiculturalism

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Some people complain that our city is too white. If they are referring to the snow that is predicted today, I agree. But they aren’t talking about snow. This is a question of race, and it calls for deeper thought.

Would I have a richer existence if I saw more dark skin as I walked through the grocery store? I love dark skin colors. I think they are much prettier than my pale face. But rubbing shoulders with people of different races doesn’t create a multicultural experience.

Should I attend an international festival and try many different kinds of food? No. There is much more to understanding Indian culture than eating curry.

The Merriam-Webster Dictionary defines culture as “the beliefs, customs, arts, etc., of a particular society, group, place, or time; a way of thinking, behaving, or working that exists in a place or organization (such as a business).” If I don’t take the time to understand what people believe and how they think and how this affects their way of life, I haven’t experienced their culture.

If I want to become more multicultural, I could close my music studio and move to a more diverse city. I could travel halfway around the globe like they do on House Hunters International. Or I could take the time to deepen the relationships I already have, know my friends, know their hearts, and experience life with them.

The last option will never get me on a television show, but walking that road has brought depth to my life that defies description. I thank each of my friends for giving me this gift.

When Losing is Winning

Recently I entered a sweepstakes for a fake deer head. The shape was perfect, just like the one that used to hang in Grandma’s kitchen. An eight-point buck. But this one was white with pink antlers. Ideal for my bedroom. But I didn’t win.

Lest you think I’m crazy, I’ll admit I didn’t want to win. I had a bigger purpose in mind. One of my favorite websites, Zazzle, is running thirty days of giveaways. Every day you enter, the site puts your name in for the grand prize drawing, a chance to win a $1,000 shopping spree.

I cringed as I submitted my name for this faux taxidermy deer. But the opportunity to get $1,000 of merchandise was worth the risk of having a deer head show up on my front doorstep.

Now as I occasionally shed a tear over minor disappointments in life, I think of that deer head, and I realize that God has a bigger purpose. This thing I’m down about was never His plan. Had I gotten my way, I might have discovered it was as unappealing as a deer staring at me while I slept. But there is a grand prize waiting, and it will be amazing

      “For our light affliction, which is but for a moment, is working for us a far more exceeding and eternal weight of glory, while we do not look at the things which are seen, but at the things which are not seen. For the things which are seen are temporary, but the things which are not seen are eternal.”  II Corinthians 4:17-18 NKJV

 

Seeking True Love

Relief! I survived one more Valentine’s Day. As a single female approaching middle age, this lovesick holiday is not my favorite date on the calendar. But the ads for online dating sites do make me think about true love.

If love were just a state of mind, I could manipulate the process. I’d analyze men’s profiles. What are they looking for in a wife? Someone pretty, athletic, outgoing? I’d create the perfect persona. They would fall for me. It would feel so good. But, no…I can’t. There would be no truth.

This seems so obvious when discussing online dating. Why do we forget it when talking about our faith? Many people tell us that all religions are basically the same. Pick the one that works for you, the one that gives you peace and hope. They might have a point if the main purpose of religion were to make us feel good. We could even entertain their proposal if the purpose of religion were to make us do good. But that’s not what Jesus said.

When asked, “What is the greatest commandment?” Jesus replied “You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, with all your soul, with all your mind, and with all your strength” (Mark 12:30 NKJV). I cannot love God unless I know the truth about Him. This can be scary. What if I find something I don’t like? What if I have to give up a treasured belief from childhood? What if I have to stand against the values of mainstream society?

Love is frightening. But it’s worth it in life and in faith. My prayer this year is that God will reveal to me more truth about Himself, and I commit myself to following the truth whatever the cost.

The Power of a Name

I'm no good with colors. Are these flowers mauve? Or lavender? Periwinkle? Eggplant? I give up! Let's keep it simple and call them purple. Or is that too simple?

Research shows that our ability to name colors affects whether we can distinguish between colors and remember them. The Himba tribe in Nambia has one word, serandu, for red, orange, and pink so they don’t differentiate between these colors as easily as English children who use three separate words. There is power in a name.

When I learned this, one sentence came to mind: “I have called you by name.” I was pretty sure these words came from the Bible. I didn’t remember the rest of the verse. I didn’t remember the reference. But the words spoke peace to my soul.

God knows my name. I'm not just a person or a female. I'm not generic. I'm Jennifer. God made me unique and special, and He loves me.

                But now, thus says the Lord, who created you, O Jacob,
 And He who formed you, O Israel:
 "Fear not, for I have redeemed you;
 I have called you by your name;
 You are Mine." Isaiah 43:1