My apologies, Ms. O'Connor

Am I the only one?

Please, someone tell me I am not alone.

This should disqualify me, here and now, from ever becoming an English teacher.

Fortunately there is grace... and 12 years of English teachers I can blame who never taught me properly.

Yes, my friends, today I found something out.

I found out that I am dumb.

And I found out that Flannery O'Connor is a woman.

Love is like a box of chocolates.

I don't have any experience with true love.

For the past couple weeks I have been thinking about what it would actually look like.

I used to look for similarities in a mate, but I am finding the value in sharing differences.

This is the picture that was shown to me (inspired by a real event), and what I hope to have one day.  This picture has become quite complex over the weeks as my thoughts continue to mature, but here is the gist:

A family friend gives you and your significant other a box of assorted chocolates for Christmas. 

You both have a passion for chocolate, but differ in your specific tastes.

You love the dark chocolate pieces.  He doesn't care for them.

He loves the milk chocolate pieces.  You don't care for them. 

You both love the mint chocolate truffle.  He sacrifices his pleasure for your enjoyment and insists you eat it.  But of course, you bite half of it and insist he has the rest.

During a conversation with an elderly neighbor, you discover that she absolutely adores white chocolate.  Both of you run home, grab the white chocolates, and deliver them to the old lady, fulfilling her need and bringing her much joy.

The box is empty and everyone is appeased.  

The Inauguration of Barack Obama According to Thirteen Year Olds

Along with the majority of America, I had to work on Inauguration Day.

Fortunately, my job that day entailed filling in the shoes of an 8th grade English teacher who was absent for the very reason I wanted to be.  By the elegant picture of our president above her computer, the signature bumper sticker on her file cabinet, and the Obama shaped cookie on her desk, I saw why this teacher took a personal day and traveled to DC to witness history in the making.  Because of her own passion, the lesson plans that day consisted of silent reading and watching the ceremonies.

Education in Connecticut is oh-so-cutting-edge.  To make sure Nutmegger children aren't raised to be ignorant, the students were excused from class for an hour to watch the swearing in on the big screen in the auditorium.

At first, the chatty pre-teens angered anyone in the room who wasn't a student, as they snickered at the funny looking people on the screen moments before the official ceremony.  The teacher behind me shouted over my head at the kids she knew better than I did.  As I have observed over the past few months, however, this group of Middle School kids are surprisingly respectful at assemblies when it comes down to it.  They could beat any High-Schooler in a "Who Can Be the Least Obnoxious" competition.  

But today, they were excited.  In the classroom they reflected on the past administration, and forecasted what would happen in the upcoming one, repeating phrases they heard their proselytizing parents use too often.  As I tried to calm the heated debates that were forming during the students' "silent reading time", the muted newscasters and vignettes of cheering Americans projected on the classroom overhead were the only things silent that day. In the auditorium, the hundreds of students stood up when the speaker told everyone present to stand, clapped anytime the multitude on the Mall cheered, and raised their voices when there was a song.  

I laughed as my authority over this rambunctious group waned, and joined them in their standing and cheering.  

There are certain moments in history that you will always remember where you were when they happened: September 11th, when the Sox won the World Series, the shooting at Virginia Tech.

On January 20, 2009, the day that Barack Hussein Obama became president of the United States, when excitement overcame America and a small town Connecticut Middle School, I'm glad I found myself within those walls.  I wouldn't have fancied a better memory of the occasion.  

"The Doctrine and Discipline of Divorce: Restored to the Good of Both Sexes"

John Milton.  I will never dote on him like my Shakespeare, but he speaks of some gripping matters.

In "The Doctrine and Discipline of Divorce", Milton fights the canonical law that states the only reason you can get divorced is adultery.  He delves into Matthew 5 where the church had taken Jesus' words and turned them into law, and argues that Jesus never meant that adultery was the only reason for divorce.  I will not focus on that for the purpose of this post since it is fairly convoluted.

Milton refers all the way back to Genesis to discover what the purpose of marriage is.  Why did God create Eve?  In the garden, Adam was romping around with all the animals, but he was still lonely.  There was a void that needed to be filled.  We all know the verse: "It is not good for the man to be alone.  I will make a helper suitable for him" (Gen 2:18, NIV).  God creates Eve to be Adam's helper.  This is marriage.  If Adam, in Paradise, needed a helper, how much more now does man, in a fallen world, need a hard-working, God-fearing, suitable wife to help him?

Considering we are fallen people, we make mistakes.  We may choose a spouse who is in fact not compatible.  Unfortunately, you probably won't find that out until after you're married and living in close quarters.  Milton actually condemns how hastily people get married.  We lazily go about our youthful lives, taking time in making decisions... except when it comes to marriage.  Society, friends, family, and even the Church, tend to influence us in the wrong direction and we become so desperate to get married that it doesn't matter to whom.  Upon marrying the wrong person, Milton says this:

Lest therefore so noble a creature as man should be shut up incurably under a worse evil by an easy mistake in that ordinance which God gave him to remedy a less evil, reaping to himself sorrow while he went to rid away solitariness, it cannot avoid to be concluded that if the woman be naturally so of disposition as will not help to remove, but help to increase that same Godforbidden loneliness which will in time draw on with it a general discomfort and dejection of mind not beseeming either Christian profession or moral conversation, unprofitable and dangerous to the commonwealth, when the household estate, out of which must flourish forth the vigour and spirit of all public enterprises, is so ill-contented and procured at home, and cannot be supported; such a marriage can be no marriage, whereto the most honest end is wanting; and the aggrieved person shall do more manly to be extraordinary and singular in claiming the due right whereof he is frustrated than to piece up his lost contentment by visiting the stews, or stepping to his neighbour's bed, which is the common shift in this misfortune; or else by suffering his useful life to waste away and be lost under a secret affliction of an unconscionable size to human strength.

As a woman, I have the power to either fulfill or increase the loneliness that man feels.  I have a lot of work to do before I ever put on that white dress.

Since the purpose of marriage is to fulfill that void of loneliness, there must be more to marriage than carnal pleasures.  There needs to be a total unification of spirit, soul, and body, in that order.  Believing that the only plausible reason for divorce is adultery, is believing that sex is the most important thing in your marriage.  This is shocking to realize.  What if your wife starts worshipping Satan?  (Extreme, ok, but you get the point.) What if she becomes a woman who cares not about you and your being, but only about your wallet?  What if your husband is emotionally or physically abusive?  When there are deeper impending issues, and when the man's loneliness is not being properly filled, THAT is when he commits adultery.  When a man is brought into a state of grief and loathing, or there are issues of idolatry and the unhappiness of souls, it is a much more legitimate reason to get divorced than simply adultery (which of course can be a path that unhappiness leads a spouse).   

Jesus on divorce says: "Therefore, what God has joined together, let man not separate" (Matt19:6, NIV).  But who says that your marriage was actually brought together by God?  God is merely a witness at your ceremony, not necessarily the one who joined you two.  Why should man try to keep together what God didn't even join in the first place?  In keeping with the character of God, if your marriage brings about more hatred than peace, it is not of Him.  When your marriage upholds peace and love, that is when God is in it and when God has joined the two.  In fact, by living in a situation where the relationship cannot be remedied, a failing marriage will affect the rest of your relationships, especially that with God.  Milton asks:

Where can be the peace and love which must invite God to such a house?  May it not be feared that the not divorcing of such a helpless disagreement will be the divorcing of God finally from such a place?  But it is a trial of our patience, they say: I grant it; but which of Job's afflictions were sent him with that law that he might not use means to remove any of them if he could?  And what if it subvert our patience and our faith too?

By being bound in a marriage that allows sin to enter, the effect is more separation from God, rather than seeking him out together.  But if you remove yourself from a hateful marriage, you allow God to have full reign over your single life once again.

...God prefers the free and cheerful worship of a Christian before the grievous and exacted observance of an unhappy marriage...

In a nation where divorce is 50%, and even higher in the church, it frightens me to even consider marriage.  Just because I may be against ever getting a divorce in favor of working through problems, no matter how hard, doesn't mean that my husband won't leave me without my consent.  After reading Milton's take on this issue (of which I just presented a mere smattering), I am no more willing to divorce, but encouraged to make sure I become the right woman and marry the right man, thus preventing the need to ever separate.

"Hmm...a bar next to a barber...just like the phone book!"

I have often times expressed my love for Anthony Bourdain and have searched the numerous YouTube clips to give my adoring fans a glimpse of this unique man.  I believe this ten minute clip in New Zealand epitomizes Mr. Bourdain.  

It is the best of his being:  his cooking skills, his beer radar, the amazing locals he gets to spend time with in an equally amazing location, his hate for vegetarians and his love for food, and his adrenaline pumping experiences, all backed with his smart-ass commentary peppered with witty word play.

I want to be him.

How I regained my faith at a Caspian show

The beauty of instrumental music is that you're not explicitly told what to think or how to feel.  You can simply close your eyes and formulate your own interpretations while the artists silently guide you through theirs.  There are no lyrics that set the tone of the song, or reveal the thoughts of the creator.  Like a piece of well done, fine art, you can listen to the same song a hundred times and it will speak to you in a multitude of ways depending on your season, your circumstances, and your mantra.  Without words, the song is able to organically flow through you, becoming something deeply personal.

With a band like Caspian, the audience is left with an unanimous reaction: happiness.

While leaving the show Tuesday night, my always encouraging and supportive cousin, Eve, held onto her good friend and guitarist, Phil's forearms in the most endearing way.  Through her frosty breath she praised him for a job well done.  "No matter how many times I see you guys play, I am always left feeling happy.  It takes so much talent to play the type of music you play and not make everyone depressed or longing to kill themselves."  Then, she put into words everything my soul was longing to shout but could not articulate. "You instill a deep rooted joy through your music."

Could it have been that my very own cousin was the answer to my pleading prayers I had lifted up just an hour earlier in the basement of that Middle Eastern restaurant?  It was there that I begged God to give someone else the revelation I was having.  It was there that my faith in Him was restored.

I love going to shows.  I love discovering music that is new to me.  But this was a holy night.

During the first two songs I found myself crammed near the stage with my Stoli Raz and seltzer, bobbing my head, closing my eyes, and swaying with the rest of the crowd to the piercing tunes oozing from Caspian's weapons of choice.  

The music was beautiful.  The notes were so tangible that I could have plucked them out of the air as they swirled around me.  

But then I realized what was really happening.

My eyes were opened. 

God was there.

I found myself being so thankful that God created beautiful things like music and that these boys were thoroughly utilizing the talents He gave them.  Whether they realized it or not, they were honoring Him by creating space for me to worship.  It was space that had always been stifled and occupied by other people's voices.  A space that longed for the expression of my very own heart, uninfluenced by anything but Caspian's instrumental background.

My soul sang a new song to the Lord.  First, I whispered quietly into my cup as I pretended to suck up the icy remains.  But soon enough, propelled by the melody, I was screaming out Jesus' name and singing Him love songs. Since God dwells in the praises of His people, I knew He was present in that space.

It wasn't only the notes swimming through the crowd of six hundred that night; it was the Holy Spirit.  Searching. Touching souls.  Waiting for someone to recognize the ultimate source of her emotion and passion that emerges with the aid of the music.  There is no giant schism between the "secular" and the "sacred."  God shows up in the most unusual of places and displays His glory.  He is so desperately after every one of us that He will use every method to wake us up, realize it's Him, and mutually grasp His heart, (even if it's enjoying loud music with an eclectic mix of people, drink in hand, underneath the aroma of falafel and tabouli).

And that's when I became myself again.  I wanted my revelation and my renewed faith in the one true, everlasting, perfectly good God to be shared with everyone.  Like Abraham bartering with God on the edge of Sodom and Gomorrah, I naturally began interceding for everyone within that room, just like I used to do.  I begged that He would show just ONE person that night where her joy and movement ultimately came from.  How the one that is touching her heart isn't Phil Jamieson and his guitar, but Jesus and his Spirit.  Just one.  

I have faith that He heard my prayers.

And I have faith that is where His heart is.