Wanderlust

Happening.

Pull yourself up and happen.

Bring it to the surface.

Come along, you need to move faster.

But you don't, do you?

Move along, move along!

Stop stopping.

Stop reaching.

Stop thinking

And move along!

Calm deep sighing heaving simple heavy weightless

Breaths.

Rejuvenate yourself.

Happen to look up

Just once in awhile.

Once. In awhile.

Happen to move.

Think love hinder stop.

Why can't you hear?

Your ears are where your eyes should

Be. And your heart is where 

Your feet can be.

Move along.

Claw your way to the depths.

Sink into yourself and 

Happen.

Hear Me Out

It's been awhile since my last blog post - nearly a month - but that is only because I try to write when I have something to say, which I haven't for a long time, perhaps not even now. There is one thing that's been on my mind lately, however.

Living in Missoula and going to a public university, I've met a lot of different people from so many different backgrounds I can't even count anymore. This is in no way a bad thing, in fact I love hearing people's stories and respect each person's history. There is one thing I won't stand for, though, and that's when other people tell me that my story and beliefs, or those of a friend, are not valid. Throughout my life I have come up against people who think that their story is more important than mine, or that, because I was homeschooled, I must be bigoted or repressed or even "closed-minded". What frustrates me the most is that people are always saying that diversity is key, and yet they do not allow me to explain my story.

While I am not going to post my entire life's story on this blog, there is one thing you should know about me: I'm adopted. And yes, I'm going to touch on a hot-button issue in this blog, so help me, God. I live with a girl who works for Planned Parenthood, I work with men and women who believe abortion is a right. I listen to their side of the argument politely, nod my head, and smile. I respect their right to their opinion. Here's my problem: when I open my mouth to respond in kind with my opinion, I'm shot down immediately. No time is given to my side of the argument. Why? I'm extremely pro-life and I am a Christian, two social faux pas in this world. Now, before you stop reading, let me say that myself being adopted is only a fraction of my reason for being pro-life. My having faith in a Creator and, specifically Christ Jesus as redeemer, is the driving force behind my worldview.

My case: Due to my worldview I see life as a borrowed convention, hence the name of my blog. I see everything on earth as a gift from a graceful, merciful, terrifying God. "In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. He was in the beginning with God. All things were made through him, and without him was not any thing made that was made. In him was life, and the life was the light of men." (John 1:1-4, ESV) Because of this fact, life is not something that I have any control over. Honestly, this is a relief. If I had control over my life, I would either be a deadbeat living under a bridge somewhere with no teeth, no money, and probably a bottle of grain alcohol in a crumpled paper bag, or worse; dead. This also means I never have the choice of suicide. I cannot decide when my life begins, so I am not able to decide when my life ends. Another load off my back.

Along with all of this comes the issue of infant life. Now, dissenters will stop me there and say, "well, when does life start?" I say, if you are going to dissect it that far, then we already have a problem. And this is that problem: sex has become casual; I myself have fallen pray to that ideology. But it isn't. Sex was given as a gift to man to breathe intimacy into a relationship and for procreation. Notice the conjunction used and lack of puncuation in that statement. "To the unmarried and the widows I say that it is good for them to remain single as I am. But if they cannot exercise self-control, they should marry. For it is better to marry than to burn with passion." (1 Cor. 7:8-9) Even the apostle Paul understood that passion is normal, and we have a perfect outlet for it.

That is all very fine and well, you say, but what about rape? What about incest? Should a woman have to pay for the crimes committed against her? Who said anything about having to pay? If a child is given it is God's will and plan for that child to be given and would have been whether or not a crime had been committed. Does that mean I condone sin and criminal activity? Absolutely not! I do, however, say that if a child is not meant for this earth, God will prepare a way, but it is not within our jurisdiction as sojourners, as it were, to decide that way. There has also been quite a bit of discussion around me lately over genetic testing of fetuses for diseases and handicaps. To that I plead motive. If a parent's motive is to discover a disease that could be cured in the womb and make a mother and baby healthy I am all for it. However, if the motive is to find an abnormality and abort, I see that as cruel and nigh-on pathetic. If you are so lazy as to abort a child who has a birth defect or handicap of any kind, I pray that baby is adopted and you are never allowed access to them again.

All of that to say, I am blatently against abortion. Who knows who each of the roughly 800,000 yearly US aborted children (http://www.cdc.gov/reproductivehealth/data_stats/Abortion.htm) would have become? I can't say, and neither can you. As for Planned Parenthood, I will not bash all of what they do. I know many men and women who go to them for support and healthcare reasons outside of abortion, and that abortion is a small fraction of what they do. I hear that, I understand that, and I commend it.

However, let me show you a quote from Planned Parenthood's founder, Margaret Sanger:

"Our failure to segregate morons who are increasing and multiplying... demonstrates our foolhardy and extravagant sentimentalism ... [Philanthropists] encourage the healthier and more normal sections of the world to shoulder the burden of unthinking and indiscriminate fecundity of others; which brings with it, as I think the reader must agree, a dead weight of human waste. Instead of decreasing and aiming to eliminate the stocks that are most detrimental to the future of the race and the world, it tends to render them to a menacing degree dominant ... We are paying for, and even submitting to, the dictates of an ever-increasing, unceasingly spawning class of human beings who never should have been born at all."
(Margaret Sanger. The Pivot of Civilization , 1922. Chapter on "The Cruelty of Charity," pages 116, 122, and 189. Swarthmore College Library edition.)

Does reading that give you the warm fuzzies? No? Why not? There isn't a sanctity to life, is there? If there is, then who gave it to us? If there isn't, why stop at abortion and not allow murder and genocide to continue? If we're all merely "morons" and aren't worth the allowance to breed, why not kill us off and allow only those deemed good enough to continue the human race? I realize I am taking some cheap shots here, but stop to think before you get mad. What are the basic principles to which you ascribe when you label yourself as "pro-life" or "pro-choice"?

I do not ask you to agree with me, though I sincerely hope that you do. What I do ask is that you know why you believe what you believe and have good, solid reasons for your worldview. Do not become one of the herd of internet-dwellers who says they know anything because they can look it up in the blink of an eye yet never do, and are rendered intellectually incapacitated. Know why you believe what you believe and then start conversations to further your understanding and allow time for both sides of the argument to be heard.

"A good leader can engage in a debate frankly and thoroughly, knowing that at the end he and the other side must be closer, and thus emerge stronger. You don't have that idea when you are arrogant, superficial, and uninformed." - Nelson Mandela

"Those who cannot understand how to put their thoughts on ice should not enter into the heat of debate." - Friedrich Nietzsche

Preaching from the Choir

1/22: today we drove a long time. Now, by camp standards this was pretty typical, but eight-and-a-half hours of driving for one who has been conditioned to be sedentary in an office or desk is horrifying. Well, not that bad, but I did have a massive charlie horse by the time we were done driving for the day. During the course of the trip we watched both Pitch Perfect and Mrs. Doubtfire, while intermittantly reading, listening to sick beats on my iPod or sleeping pretty hard. But after the trip we got off the bus in Miles City, population 10,000.

Here we were treated to sandwiches and a lovely concert at Custer County High School, most of which was sung by the University of Montana Chamber Chorale (aka Us), then we were split up into our host homes. Myself and a sophomore, who is actually two years older than me and a former marine, were placed with the school's principle. Upon getting situated in his Ford truck he asked if we were okay with stopping to get some food. Not wanting to seem ungrateful, we said yes and asked him to take us somewhere unique to Miles City. He told of a place called the Airport Inn, which worried me. Upon our arrival, however, we found it to be a small restaurant just across e river from the high school. Our host jogged inside and placed an order for "finger steaks" even though they were closed (our host: "well, we're in Mayberry!"), and said it would be ready in ten minutes and there was something he wanted to show us.

We drove two minutes across the road from the restaurant and by the light of the city below all we could see was an apartment building somewhere off in the distance. Thinking it surely couldn't be the main attraction, I was taken aback when our host began to tell us all about how the man who built this apartment building was a concrete pourer and would use this building as a way to get rid of extra cement at the end of a job. Sure enough, we were able to see the layers in the walls from multiple pours. Amused and thoroughly caught up on anecdotes of the complex we arrived back at the restaurant to pick up our order. Ten minutes later we were sitting in his dining room having met his wife and two daughters eating away at our "finger steaks" which, for those of you who are like me and have been kept in the dark about such things, is basically strips of beef that have been fried - small country fried steaks. But instead of sausage gravy, a bit to my disappointment, we were given ketchup mixed with sweet relish. After a hearty meal of fried delicacies we were given full reign of the basement until that point at which we decide to sleep. Bedtime never sounded so good.

Rest if the trip: So I wasn't as good about writing each day the rest of the tour, but we sang several times at different high schools in Billings, Laurel, and Miles City, all the while learning more and more about each other. Now, before you think I'm just being sappy, it should be noted that choir tours are THE BEST way of getting to know the other people in your choir. From staying at home stays together to having to fill a hotel room to capacity and sleeping on the same bus as forty other singers, you come to have new appreciations for those singing in your ensemble. Even when watching movies such as Dodgeball, you can learn who has a skewed sense of humor and who doesn't.

The case of the matter is, tour was good in a weird way, per usual, and school begins tomorrow. I am extremely nervous about starting with a new group of students for another semester and making sure I do it right, but I know God will bring me through it. Prayers for general life stuff for me a well appreciated.

For Your Consideration

Be careful what you pray for, because you just might get it. Seriously though, God has a sense of timing and humor that can surprise even the most vigilant of prayer warriors...not to say that I am one. Since my last blog post I have been praying that God puts me in positions where I could serve those around me and be Him to the world. I had started to get a little discouraged because, outside e of the everday garbage take-out, meal prep, house cleaning thing I hadn't really had much of a chance to serve. I eamiled a few people in Missoula about some opportunities to serve that community, but more on that later. Finally it got to be Thursday night and I went along with my parents to their church community group. At the end of the night we went ariund the circle gathering prayer requests and eventually they got to me. Not being able to think of anything I physically needed, I asked that they pray for circumstances in which I could serve those around me.

That was two nights ago. Friday went by normally, sleep in, do laundry, paint, watch Doctor Who with my parents, sleep. Then today. I woke up early, packed and got all ready for my afternoon flight, then we got into the car and went to the airport. I checked in electronically - even got to tag my own bag! - and went straight through security as the airport had maybe a hundred people in it total, not normal for Sea-Tac airport. I set my stuff down at my gate and sat on the floor leaning against my carry-on since all of the seats were taken, plugging myself in to watch Pitch Perfect (some unfortunate swearing and adult humor, but on the whole hilarious for a singer such as myself). A half hour later they started calling asking for someone on my flight to volunteer to be bumped onto a later flight due to an emergency last-minute overload passenger on the plane. I am the type to be unwilling to change my plans and so sat there, expecting along with everyone else for someone else to go to the desk. No one went up. They called again ten minutes later. Still no one. They called another time and, yet again, no one went up. I was sitting near the desk and overheard the conversation between the passenger and the gate agent and realized this was an actual emergency. This time when the agent announced the need for a volunteer (calm down, Hunger Games fans), I knew it was supposed to be me so I went to the desk and told them I was willing to go in the morning. They started throwing all sorts of special offers on me; Alaska air miles, vouchers, priority seating (seat 6D tomorrow! Woot woot!) and everythting else they could think of to thank me. I was a bit bewildered by this as I'm used to family emergencies and had, myself, had to fly back home due to an emergency earlier in the last semester, so I just took it in stride, realizing as well that this was an opportunity to serve.

The guy I gave my place to came up and gave me a huge hug and gave me his number promising to take me out for drinks when I get to Missoula. He's a fellow student I found out as we talked and got him settled. So right now I am sitting at home, knowing that in some small way I was able to help a stranger who very well may now be a friend (of which I am never in abundance, at least outside of the music world). This is in no way meant to say I am an awesome person and am perfect; notice how many calls it took for me to answer. Notice that I begrudgingly said yes and only felt right about it once I offered. Notice how good God is for answering my prayer so quickly.

I look forward in the coming months to see how else God uses me in the lives of thse around me. Use this as an encouragement to go out and be willing to put others ahead of yourself. And above all, know that God is there, pushing you, strengthening you for what is to come.

To Serve and Not Be Served

I have made it successfully through my first out of four semesters of the masters in music program at the University of Montana. I survived. That is almost all I can say about it: I survived. I did not thrive, I did not fall apart, I simply survived. I used to think this an accomplishment. I proudly bragged about my survival to friends, pastors, parents, everyone who had ears.

This past week I had the opportunity to go up to Winter Park, CO, to the Snow Mountain Ranch (a fantastic place - you should all go visit sometime) to hang out with colleagues from Worldview Academy. First of all, this fed me in so many ways. Being able to spend time with people who constantly build you up and encourage you non-stop is where we should all be all the time. Beyond that, however, and even farther than the amazing sessions led by Institute of Biblical Defense founder Phil Fernandes, and Worldview Academy faculty-members Paul Jordan and Bill Jack, I was reminded of what I am meant to do on this earth.

This was a lesson I had learned repeatedly over this past summer, but it is easy to forget lessons learned at camp when one returns to the "drudgery" of everyday life:

Then the mother of the sons of Zebedee came up to him with her sons, and kneeling before him she asked him for something. And he said to her, “What do you want?” She said to him, “Say that these two sons of mine are to sit, one at your right hand and one at your left, in your kingdom.” Jesus answered, “You do not know what you are asking. Are you able to drink the cup that I am to drink?” They said to him, “We are able.” He said to them, “You will drink my cup, but to sit at my right hand and at my left is not mine to grant, but it is for those for whom it has been prepared by my Father.” And when the ten heard it, they were indignant at the two brothers. But Jesus called them to him and said, “You know that the rulers of the Gentiles lord it over them, and their great ones exercise authority over them. It shall not be so among you. But whoever would be great among you must be your servant, and whoever would be first among you must be your slave, even as the Son of Man came not to be served but to serve, and to give his life as a ransom for many.” (Matthew 20:20-28 ESV)

We are called to be like Christ, therefore we are called to serve and not to be served. I had completely forgotten this during my time at the University of Montana. Part of the problem in my mind was that I had just come from the warm embrace of Whitworth University where I had worship every Tuesday night, chapel every Tuesday and Thursday morning, a church right next to campus when I chose to go, small groups that dogged me everywhere I went (in a great way), and no challenge to find these things for myself. Now, don't get me wrong. I do not wish to be rude to my alma mater. She served me well and I love her for it. But now it comes time for me to grow up and learn that I no longer should simply be a consumer, looking for a church that feeds me, people that feed me, a school that parents me.

What does this mean for the near future? It means I'm going to work hard at finding a church home where I can serve people. It means that I will invest even more in my myriad students' lives. It means that I can no longer simply survive. I must begin to thrive. The only way this can happen is if I look at the world as a place to serve and not continually look for the pearl the world must be under obligation to give me. I remember a children's book about a grasshopper who walked the world wide singing his song about how the world owed him everything at it was just his job to eat and drink and be merry. Until he met a group of ants who showed him how important it was to find ways to give back to the world.

New Year's Resolution? More like Rest-of-My-Life Resolution: Live to serve and not to be served.

Conflagrating Extremities

These last couple of weeks here in Missoula have been filled with extremes; things in my life have swung a wide pendulum around simplicity and fortitude, landing instead upon loneliness and rage.

For example, I was driven to frustration over the fire-and-brimstone preachers who seem to populate the Free Speech Square on campus 24/7, while I am filled with elation over the fact that my housemates have been asking me about my faith and forcing the tough issues. This is the type of friendship I desire: A friendship where we drive each other to find out the truth and aren't afraid to ask difficult questions. Another example would be the despair I find myself in while dealing with the highly disorganized administration at this school while I find joy in the fact that I am able to work around them and complete paperwork they never told me about faster than they imagined I could. Even simple things such as sadness over a performance I thought could have been better given versus a voice lesson where I take huge leaps forward in my technique.

Like I said, these last couple of weeks have been filled with extremes. Something that has been on my mind lately has been my relationship with God and how it hasn't been what it could be simply because I choose to allow myself to feel tired and run-down instead of choosing to spend time in the Word and with Him. I had the chance to visit with a friend from camp this summer (Worldview Academy...it's truly the best week -erm...eight weeks - of your life). He was traveling back from eastern Montana and had the opportunity to stop in Missoula for an hour and grab a cup o' Joe with me at Starbucks, the blessed priests of the coffee gods. While we were talking he kept asking me what God thought about my situation and what God thought about me and, while I can't fully speak to what God thinks, I can say in full confident that God is working through me in my life and He desires relationship with me. However, that relationship requires some work on my part.

Again, later that day, I spoke with another friend from Worldview Academy, this time over the phone as he lives in Minnesota. He kept asking me where I was with my relationship with God and reminding me of His great love for me. It was truly a breath of fresh air to be reminded of God and His promises. I read some Scripture later that night that spoke to the fact that God would turn the world upside-down if it meant one person would come to Him. That passion is just awe-inspiring to me.

But still I had the problem of quiet times and how non-habitual they are for me. Well, God answered that prayer for me when a friend in Egypt sent me a message over Facebook and asked if we could read the Psalms through together. We just read Psalm 2 today, and I'm looking forward to making it through the whole book; my first time reading the Psalms straight through.

Something that has been brought to my attention - I won't say that I've learned it, because that is a lifelong task - is how much God truly desires relationship with me. He is working through my life to bring me to Him and to work all things together for good. Not necessarily my good, that is an incorrect Gospel, but His good. The good of bringing the world to Him and showing His love on us so that His glory may be known.

May I also say that it is so easy to forget that you take joy in the things you do and have chosen to do because they've turned into monotonous drudgery? My life has taken that turn these past weeks, and I am so glad that the joy of music is continually pointed out to me in the little things of realizing placement of vowels in my voice, or how to focus my sound, or even using the International Phonetic Alphabet (IPA) to my own selfish ends. There are so many interesting and awesome facts in life, if only we look for them.

Go out and do something to make the world more beautiful.

What's Well Begun

"Dimidium facti qui coepit habet."(What's well begun, is half done.)- Horace

There it went, folks. The first week of school is done. It has come to my attention that weeks never last as long as you would like nor pass as quickly as we would like. But my primary week of being a graduate teaching assistant is finished. What the heck just happened?

My class went through a syllabus, laid on the floor of the classroom just breathing - try it sometime, focusing on the breath - they even started conversing critically about vocalists and what they're hearing. I am proud of them and can't wait to see where they go once we start singing. Speaking of singing, my private students are the best ever. I gave out some amazing repertoire and they are all up for the challenge. I had one student come into lesson on Tuesday having never sung before. They were nervous and sheepish about their voice and I could barely hear them when they started. After some coaching, breath-control training, working out of the lower abs and yelling at imaginary younger siblings, her voice started ringing, was clearly audible, and a natural, pure vibrato started shining through. I love teaching.

Most of my classes have started now as well. I am taking one online class this semester, and it's definitely throwing me for a loop. I'd never even considered taking an online course, now I need one for my masters and I'm TAing for one. To figure. Such a different style of learning and it's gong to be hard to keep myself on task, but I can do it. Conducting is going to be fantastic - we're preparing scores and "conducting" Mozart's Coronation Mass and Faure's Requiem. Two gorgeous pieces. My technique has drifted downhill in terms of wrist movement and fluid elbows, but my professor will whip me into shape. Choir also started today. There are about thirty of us in the choir and we're singing some great literature. More on that later.

Be on the lookout on my blog for things written in the International Phonetic Alphabet as diction is going to be my favorite thing this semester. It's gonna rock. I just started knitting a scarf yesterday, perhaps too many cables, but it looks awesome. I am so ready for Autumn weather so I can wear all my sweaters and scarves. Best time of year, fall.

Go listen to some Nathan Gunn or Diana Damrau on YouTube and think of me while your IQ goes up. Stay awesome!