whoever has ears...

We visited the Natural Museum of Science in Raliegh, NC. Talk about a place to fill a notebook of new knowledge.

• North Carolina was the first state to name and claim a state seashell. The Scottish Bonnet holds that honor in NC.
• Orkin.com- the website for the bug extinguishers- offers “tasty” recipes for all those critters you’d rather exterminate. Nothing like Cajun Crickets to wet you appetite for dinner.
• A passing shepherd found the Dead Sea Scrolls when he threw a stone into a cave and heard a pot break. Not knowing the value of his discovery, he sold the scrolls to an antique dealer.
• A distinguishing characteristic of lizards and snakes is not the seemingly obvious trait of legs. In fact, the difference between these species is the sense of hearing. Lizard have ears and snakes do not.

The final fact struck me in a profound way. Who of us are snakes and who of us are lizards? We might look like a lizard with legs, tails, bright colors, and long tongues, but do we have ears? Do we listen or just put on a show to attract trust and authority? There are moments in my life where I wish I could just start crawling on my belly so I didn’t have the responsibility of hearing, but in the end, I’m not made that way. The old cliché goes “humans have 2 ears and 1 mouth in order to listen twice as much as speaking.” So at the same moment, though, I love listening to stories, sharing in people’s joys and sorrows and speaking just enough to offer congratulations or condolences. Give me the tail, legs, and EARS anytime.

shared wisdom

Blogs feed blogs. There are many sources from which I take inspiration, but sometimes I just have to use the wisdom as it’s originally packaged. And why not…I’m sure blogs appreciate untainted food as much as I do. ☺

So I give Paulo Coelho all the credit for this thought.

“Choosing One’s Destiny”

“I am willing to give up everything”, said the prince to the master. “Please accept me as your disciple.”

“How does a man choose his path?” asked the master.

“Through sacrifice,” answered the prince. “A path which demands sacrifice, is a true path.”

The master bumped into some shelves. A precious vase fell, and the prince threw himself down in order to grab hold of it. He fell badly and broke his arm, but managed to save the vase.

“What is the greater sacrifice: to watch the vase smash, or break one’s arm in order to save it?” asked the master.

“I do not know,” said the prince.

“Then how can you guide your choice for sacrifice? The true path is chosen by our ability to love it, not to suffer for it.”

check mate

Chess takes skill, strategy, patience, and for me, luck. I will never come close to being the genius of Bobby Fischer who might not have needed luck. But for the average Joe, chess works with two independent minds that can be as unpredictable as predictable. Some people, I’m sure, can see the end of the game, just by the first few moves. I’m good to have the next move or two in mind much less executed according to how the opponent plays. Alas, the game remains a game without any definite winner until check mate is called.

During devotions, I took a firmer grasp on the fact that my life is not a chess game. I mean, I would look cute riding a horse as the knight or crowned as the queen (since I already have the princess thing covered), but I don’t move well in straight lines or L shaped patterns. In all seriousness, though, I don’t believe life is a random game of sacrificial players for the amusement of some higher power who only knows the next couple moves depending on Fate’s play. I see God as having the moves already choreographed, the result in mind, and victory with check mate declared. If you know the final score, the game is not so much a game.

Tonight I heard a child’s testimony about a mother’s illness cured even while the girl was away at training. Then, another girl’s story revealed that only boys had been sought on a particular trip to the village, but her talent on the drums had caught someone’s ear so she received a gift of a lifetime. On top of that, the choir had a spot to fill at the last minute which made the drummer girl’s participation possible. We might see these random moves as just that- random, unconnected, and certainly unplanned. Yet, I can’t help but believe that God’s providence is more powerful than randomness. I know it to be true in my own life. I know it to be true in lives of many of my friends, those who have that title because of God’s good game plan to put them in my life.

It’s a powerful admission to make that I don’t control my life. That I can make a move, but God is sovereign enough to know it’s coming. I wouldn’t have it any other way since such humility allows me to boast in Him when good things come along and trust in Him when bad things come along. In the end, I can’t lose- God has already claimed victory for my life.
CHECK MATE!

Mamma Mia (Act II)

Now, is it too bold to say it was the musical with song and dance that attracted and energized me and possibly many more? Could it just be the music? Could it just be the spirit of the art? Perhaps to all the above. But I submit, there are very few events that bring so much positive energy as a well written musical or singing/dance concert (I say that because I work with such a group and I’d be remiss not to include them in the genre because they bring it and bring out the enthusiasm of everyone.) Sporting matches get me juiced up just as much as the next guy, well maybe not as much as every guy. Symphony concerts or even rock concerts arouse a certain excitement and energy from deep in the soul. But never do I get as enthused or feel like I’m riding an emotional roller coaster as when I see a musical theatre production. The song, dance, and movement interwoven in a story generate a dynamic creation that’s lost without the collaboration.

Collaboration invites people with various expertise to create a single, unified project. Such a focus is necessary for musical theatre as disciplines of writing, acting, dance, song, and technical theatre are all integrated. Without one piece, the rest is just incomplete. I won’t be dancing in my seat/the aisle next to my seat without direction from the actors on stage. I can’t retell a story without a plot or characters to live with in those two hours at the theater. I don’t feel the full wave of emotions in my mind and soul without proper lighting or audio dynamics.

As much as I like musicals, I really like the word collaboration because it evokes the idea of community. Musicals provide a good image for collaboration and community. The actors feed off one another and rely on each other’s agreement to say yes to the moment and scene at hand. The producers and designers work together for a common goal. What better ambition of any community but to reach common goals? Neighborhoods seek the common desire of safety for kids, comfortable living, and peace. Churches seek to spread God’s message of love. Schools wish to educate and inspire children to meet their potential. Each one of these institutions has various means and ways of meeting the goal, but one thing is certain. Collaboration, working together, must be present. With a common goal in mind, more people are served and a closer bond can be found. While tiffs and power struggles can rear their ugly faces, hopefully the productive and positive means will make the end worthwhile. A collaborative community can create and improve the quality of life for the collective group in living out their spirit as people working together.

Mamma Mia (Act I)

Musicals make me smile. Sometimes they are cheesy, full of people breaking into random song at random times evoking random emotional effects. But mostly, I dig ‘em A LOT. Today I saw Mamma Mia on screen.

I had been fortunate enough to see the live version a couple of years ago with my family in Denver. Over my Christmas break, my folks and brother met me in the city for an early Christmas present. Since the show had just begun it’s tour, a few of our friends heard crazy reviews of opening nights. "Fans came in go-go boots or old prom outfits: dresses and colorful tuxes alike." So what did my mom do but bring a few options for us to try out. And why not? We for sure tried on the dresses and got some photos, but alas the spring-time formals for a New Orleans prom weren’t quite appropriate for the winter wonderland of the Rockies. We should have gone for it anyway and just bundled up because by time even the first act was over, we were on our feet dancing and singing. At this point in the run of the show, the die hard fans had already seen the show a few times and couldn’t afford to grace the theater with their "in-style" evening wear. Despite the "matured" attire, the crowd relived the good ol’ days of ABBA or caught the vibe from those around who had lived it as was the case of my brother and I. We’re lucky enough to have a Dad who owns a few of their vinyls so we never missed a beat.

That’s how I felt about today’s experience. I didn’t miss a beat. I laughed so hard even in places where no one else did. I’m blessed with a silent laughter when I’m really worked up so it didn’t matter much, except, of course, when I came up for a big gasp of air. On top of that, I enjoyed the movie with 4 generations: a whole crowd of senior citizens made up the lower seats, with kids, teenagers, and parents throughout the theater. What a joyous occasion!

proportional

I recently read a book that offered this math fact. The tightness of a hug is proportional to the length of time between this and the next hug. When people go away for a significant time for school, deployment, vacation, or work, the farewell hugs seem to last forever with extra squeeze. At least in my experience the return hug on the other side of the parting is also intense. I think the author quantified that situation pretty accurately.

This found this situation follows the rule, too. The quality of one’s day is proportional to how much fruit one eats. I had three bowls of fruit at dinner, not to mention the couple of apples I consumed for Brunch. My day was FANTASTIC as most of them under this rule of statistics.

I noticed another proportional equation. The amount of joy/hurt one feels is proportional to the depth of one’s love and care for the other person. (I will qualify love really quickly as there might be misconception. Love is a deep affection and connection with another person in a way that allows you to know their soul. A kindred spirit is the best term.) When my students struggle in class, I often want to rush by their side to help, though recently, I show the same love by making them work through their English lessons. When my brother hits a triple, I am genuinely excited for him. When my aunt does a little jig after buying another pair of shoes, I dance along with her and her good fortune. And when my friend endures heart-wrenching circumstances, I want to take it on myself and be long-suffering by her side while she rests.

Proportional living isn’t really about formulas or ratios but about realizing how much one circumstance relates and can affect another. Even though I might understand this relationship, doesn’t mean I pop out an answer like on the other side of an equal sign. 2+2=5 (not quite)Instead, I gain a deeper appreciation for the complexity of the soul, the desire to understand it, and the hope that I ponder and act in ways that are intentional and optimistic.

lonely tortoise

“Do you think tortoises get lonely?” Lynate asked this morning.

The children had just come upon another tortoise in our yard. This one was the size of my two fists put together so everyone was super excited. The crowd had rushed to see the animal scurrying through the flowers in the moist ground covering. Eventually, Claudio caught the tortoise by the shell and transported it to our pond area created just for such visitors. Just a while back a wee tortoise crossed our path on the road. While we didn’t swerve the Red Pepper to avoid the little one, someone did jump out and to grab the otherwise certain roadkill. This creature initiated the creation of the pond and the subsequent adoption of his reptilian friend.

Instead of offering my opinion, I returned the question to Lynate. She in response said yes. “It’s good he has a friend. I don’t think animals are meant to live alone.”

What wisdom she brought to the event. And what clarity she brought to a subject continually discussed, debated, and pondered by authors, scholars, lecturers, and movies. Lynate said in her simple statement that we were created to be together, to be in relationship, and to be in the presence of one another.

And how appropriate that everyone was so excited to see another one. Not only was this tortoise significantly larger, but more importantly, it would be a great companion. I loved the excitement of the find, the enthusiasm to join the two creatures and the parade to make sure the new home would be suitable for all. The kids hovered around the make-shift pond for several minutes gazing at the meeting of the two who will surely be buddies. A party is a party because people gather, but wouldn’t it be extra special to party because there is a party? We’re not meant to live alone…let’s celebrate that we’re together.

My friend just recently received Leopard in the mail. The box came without holes since the contents would be going to her computer, not to a cage in the back yard. Ironically enough, she got another one. Did the Leopards know they would be separated and therefore found a way to reunite with their companion? This might be a different beast all together…