The original plans for this afternoon was going up to Whidbey to spend a couple days with friends at the beach. Sadly that did not pan out but we had fun anyway.
Yesterday morning I went through three boxes of toys in the garage to figure out what to keep, and Lazarus has been nearly inseperable from the box violin I unearthed. He played it in the car both yesterday and today for hours, as well as all the way through Home Depot yesterday.
We heard a string orchestra at church today, and Anne wanted to reenact it out back this afternoon.
Afterward, we went to the beach park in Burien and thoroughly wore the kids out, although the adults were sad not to get in a hike.
I am up earlier than everyone else in the family and thus am relegated to doing very QUIET things, such as blogging...
I have two old stories bouncing around in my head today.
The first I was reminded of because of a lovely and long post my mother wrote recently for facebook about people's attitudes toward guns when she was growing up out in the country in central Texas.
...It was a warm November morning in the Deep South about seven years ago, and I was driving rural backroads in the highlands of northwest Georgia, heading from Huntsville to Atlanta. I was on my way to visit Jessica who was down from New Jersey for Thanksgiving to visit her brother, recently released from the Marines, in his new digs. Huntsville is a small town, and there is only one freeway in. It runs in from I-65 west of town to Redstone Arsenal, the major military and rocket development installation near town. After that, it peters out. Atlanta is to the southeast of Huntsville by a few hours, and to get there you drive on lots of two-lane roads through tiny towns and rural neighborhoods with lots of field and forrest. After a couple of hours winding through the southern Appalacians, I came upon a four-way stop sign where I had to pull around a golden retriever lying in the middle of the road. It was not visibly injured on the outside, but clearly it had been hit by a car, and was not well at all. I debated what to do, and after a couple of seconds I decided to pull over, dragged the dog off the roadway (which was quite challenging, because it presented a lot of deadweight), and pulled my little budget car into the circular drive of the nearest house. After ringing the doorbell, a woman with a deep Southern accent answered, friendly but a bit startled to see a stranger, clearly not from these parts, at her door. I asked her if this was her dog. She said she didn't know anyone with a golden nearby, but she would have her husband go out and take a look at it, and if he didn't think it was going to be ok (which I'm sure it was not), he'd take his gun and put it out of its misery. Feeling sad, but knowing that was the right thing to do, I returned to my little car and finished my drive to the big city to enjoy the afternoon with my friend....
The second story came to mind last night, when at the end of our final group class of the season, Anita got the group talking about unusual and fun places to practice during the summer. She related the experience of one of her adult students who recently took his fiddle on a kayaking trip in the Southwest, and practiced at various stops along the way, one of which included a cave. I was reminded of the time, fifteen years ago this month, when Leah and I flew to Europe. My job was to keep her company while she auditioned for some early music programs in London and Amsterdam (if I remember correctly.) While we were there, we took a lovely side trip to visit her cousin who was studying Scottish harp in Glasgow. We had just gotten in from cross-Atlantic travel, and were several hours off time-wise (still acclimated to Eastern Daylight Time), and Leah needed to practice for her auditions. Of course, being a serious music student just between events, I had my instrument along, too; at 2:00 am we were ready to practice! The practice room options at that time were, how shall we say, somewhat limited, and I ended up practicing in a women's restroom in a dormitory, I think it was. The exact details escape me, but I did surprise a couple of individuals coming in for more traditional needs at that hour. And don't worry, I was using my heavy practice mute, which works VERY WELL.
To answer Anita's question about unusual or fun places we might practice this summer, I do not have any travel plans (other than teaching at the Walla Walla Suzuki Institute), because this summer is all about getting the garage turned into a teaching space. I supposed I could practice in our demolition/construction site. Maybe I'll send her a picture of that for the group to enjoy!
My family is all still asleep right now, and I suppose in honor of being quiet, I could grab some breakfast and go out to the garage to work on unpacking some more boxes if I can manage to grab some warmer pants from the bedroom without waking anyone up.
And speaking of trips with Leah, I am very much looking forward to seeing Leah and her kids THIS AFTERNOON on their layover in Seattle!
...While they were watching, Jesus was lifted up and a cloud him him from their sight....
...Then they returned to Jerusalem from the mountain called the Mount of Olives (which is near Jerusalem, a Sabbath day's journey away). When they had entered Jerusalem, they went to the upstairs room where they were staying. Peter and John, and James, and Andrew, Philip and Thomas, Bartholomew and Matthew, James son of Alphaeus and Simon the Zealot, and Judas son of James were there. All these continued together in prayer with one mind, together with the women, along with Mary the mother of Jesus, and his brothers....
...Now when the day of Pentecost had come, they were all together in one place. Suddenly a sound like a violent wind blowing came from heaven and filled the entire house where they were sitting. And tongues spreading out like a fire appeared to them and came to rest on each one of them. All of them were filled with the Holy Spirit, and they began to speak in other languages as the Spirit enabled them.
Now there were devout Jews from every nation under heaven residing in Jerusalem. When this sound occurred, a crowd gathered and was in confusion, because each one heard them speaking in his own language. Completely baffled, they said, "Aren't all these who are speaking Galileans? And how is it that each one of us hears them in our own native language? Parthians, Medes, Elamites, and residents of Mesopotamia, Judea and Cappadocia, Pontus and the province of Asia, Phrygia and Pamphylia, Egypt and the parts of Libya near Cyrene, and visitors from Rome, both Jews and proselytes, Cretans and Arabs - we hear them speaking in our own languages about the great deeds God has done!"
*********************** For God so loved the world that he gave his one and only Son, that whoever believes in him shall not perish but have eternal life. For this is how much God loved the world—he gave his one and only, unique Son as a gift.So now everyone who believes in himwill never perish but experience everlasting life. for God did so love the world, that His Son -- the only begotten -- He gave, that every one who is believing in him may not perish, but may have life age-during. Forsooth God so loved the world, that he gave his one begotten Son, that each man that believeth in him perish not, but have everlasting life. For God expressed His love for the world in this way: He gave His only Son so that whoever believes in Him will not face everlasting destruction, but will have everlasting life. This is how much God loved the world: He gave his Son, his one and only Son. And this is why: so that no one need be destroyed; by believing in him, anyone can have a whole and lasting life.
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All were astounded and greatly confused, saying to one another, "What does this mean?" But others jeered at the speakers, saying, "They are drunk on new wine!"
But Peter stood up with the eleven, raised his voice, and addressed them: "You men of Judea and all you who live in Jerusalem, know this and listen carefully to what I say. In spite of what you think, these men are not drunk, for it is only nine o'clock in the morning. But this is what was spoken about through the prophet Joel:
"And in the last days it will be,' God says, 'that I will pour out my Spirit on all people, and your sons and your daughters will prophesy, and your young men will see visions, and your old men will dream dreams. Even on my servants, both men and women, I will pour out my Spirit in those days, and they will prophesy. And I will perform wonders in the sky avoe and miraculous signs on the earth below, blood and fire and clouds of smoke. The sun will be changed to darkness and the moon to blood before the great and glorious day of the Lord comes. And then everyone who calls on the name of the Lord will be saved.' ********************
This hymn:
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"Men of Israel, listen to these words: Jesus the Nazarene, a man clearly attested to you by God with powerful deeds, wonders, and miraculous sings that God performed among you through him, just as you yourselves know - this man, who was handed over by the predetermined plan and foreknowledge of God, you executed by nailing him to a cross at the hands of Gentiles. But God raised him up, having released him from the pains of death, because it was not possible for him to be held in its power. For David says about him,
'I saw the Lord always in front of me, for he is at my right hand so that I will not be shaken. Therefore my heart was glad and my tongue rejoiced; my body also will live in hope, because you will not leave my soul in Hades, nor permit your Holy One to experience decay. You have made known to me the paths of life; you will make me full of joy with your presence.'
"Brothers, I can speak confidently to you about our forefather David, that he both died and was buried, and his tomb is with us to this day. So then, because he was a prophet and knew that God had sworn to him with an oath to seat one of his descendants on his throne, David by foreseeing this spoke about the resurrection of the Christ, that he was neither abandoned to Hades, nor did his body experience decay. This Jesus God raised up, and we are all witnesses of it. So then, exalted to the right hand of God, and having received the promise of the Holy Spirit from the Father, he has poured out what you both see and hear. For David did not ascend into heaven, but he himself says,
'The Lord said to my lord, "Sit at my right hand until I make your enemies a footstool for your feet."'
Therefore let all the house of Israel know beyond a doubt that God has made this Jesus whom you crucified both Lord and Christ.
Now when they heard this, they were acutely distressed and said to Peter and the rest of the apostles, "What should we do, brothers?" Peter said to them, "Repent, and each one of you be baptized in the name of Jesus Christ for the forgiveness of your sins, and you will receive the gift of the Holy Spirit. For the promise is for you and your children, and for all who are far away, as many as the Lord our God will call to himself." With many other words he testified and exhorted them saying, "Save yourselves from this perverse generation!" So those who accepted his message were baptized, and that day about three thousand people were added.
We visited a different church this weekend which was quite lovely (stained glass windows, old wooden pews and floor, pipe organ, choir... things which aren't required but all make me happy...), but what I most noticed was that there was NO mention of Mother's Day. Instead, the church was celebrating an International Sabbath with readings in multiple languages and people in native dress from all over the world, perhaps because of our proximity to Pentecost? I don't know. Anyway, I felt quite pleasantly about it.
To be clear, I am actually glad we have specific American days set aside to honor our mothers and fathers. It is good to remember who has invested their entire lives in us and be reminded (as Americans are prone to forgetting) that we don't come from a vacuum. And to thank these people in our lives!
But for a lot of the last decade-plus, I have felt rather ambivalent about Mother's Day on a personal level. I have been the woman in the pew when they were passing out Mother's Day flowers every year who was painfully reminded that she might never be a mother though she wanted to be. And I was the woman, who smiled politely on the Mother's Day while I was pregnant with Lazarus when a fellow church member commented that I must be so excited to have two children now... but who was near tears, because it was the week of my due date with the baby we buried in the park, and that tiny missing life was all I could think about.
So today I am thinking about and praying for all the people who wish they were mothers and aren't, or who have lost children, or who have lost their mother, or who have been estranged from their mothers or children through abuse or war or mental illness... I was glad to keep the Mother's Day celebration private and out of church this week, because I know that for some people, the public passing out of flowers or chocolates or cheery, happy mother-words from the speakers are almost unbearable.
Theophilus, I first wrote to you about all that Jesus did and taught from the very first until he was taken up to heaven. But before he was taken up, he gave orders to the apostles he had chosen with the help of the Holy Spirit.
For 40 days after Jesus had suffered and died, he proved in many ways that he had been raised from death. He appeared to his apostles and spoke to them about God's kingdom. While he was still with them, he said:
"Don't leave Jerusalem yet. Wait here for the Father to give you the Holy Spirit, just as I told you he has promised to do. John baptized with water, but in a few days you will be baptized with the Holy Spirit."
While the apostles were still with Jesus, they asked him, "Lord, are you now going to give Israel its own king again?"
Jesus said to them, "You don't need to know the time of those events that only the Father controls. But the Holy Spirit will come upon you and give you power. Then you will tell everyone about me in Jerusalem, in all Judea, in Samaria, and everywhere in the world." After Jesus had said this and while they were watching, he was taken up into a cloud. They could not see him, but as he went up, they kept looking up into the sky.
Suddenly two men dressed in white clothes were standing there beside them. They said, "Why are you men from Galilee standing here and looking up into the sky? Jesus has been taken to heaven. But he will come back in the same way you have seen him go."
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The first I ever heard of the full-blown holiday of Christi Himmelfahrt, as the name might imply, was when I did some weeks of coursework in Munich in 2001. The English translation is Christ's Ascension. I looked it up recently, and much to my surprise, it was one of the earliest (or possibly THE earliest) Christian holiday other than the Hebrew festivals like Passover and Pentecost and Tabernacles, etc. It was likely celebrated long before Christmas was even a thing. It was mentioned as early as the A.D. 60s, and may have in fact dated to the very year after the actual event, which would likely have been in the A.D. 30s. At some much later time it was tagged onto the Gregorian/Julian calendar, and in the West, churches which observe it do so thirty-nine days after Easter (or on the Sunday after that) and ten days before Pentecost. Various locales apparently have different traditions about celebrating, many of which are liturgical.
What I want to share with you is J.S. Bach's incredible Ascension Oratorio, composed for the celebration at his church on May 19, 1735. If you want a wee bit of historical background, you can read what wikipedia has to say. Enjoy!
We finally got a chance to replace the back door when Jared's folks came last weekend with the door and the tools. (They have a minivan!)
They worked Friday from 10:30 until 8:00.
And not only installed but repaired rot and built new back steps!
Monday I finally cut L's hair since his bangs were down to his lips. A wanted a matching haircut, too.
Backing up to Saturday, Anne and I took Grandma on a walk in the park where she will go to forest kindergarten in the fall.
Here the inspect the meadow restoration project.
Saturday night the guys got started on installing the baseboards Jared had painted. No baseboards yet...
Moving the stove and pedestal to get behind them...
Sunday baseboard installations finished. It's already looking more civilized.
Having baseboards installed meant I could start putting the glass cabinet back together and unpacking a ton more boxes from the garage. Lazarus held a dance party while I was prepping the shelves to go in.
Yesterday evening, Jared and I took the kids up for a little jaunt on the 520 floating bridge which crosses Lake Washington from approximately Bellevue to the UW district. Here is the view of the Olympics in the late afternoon.
It was cloudier and rainier to the east, so it is harder to see the Cascades.
One of the many fascinating displays along the pedestrian part of the bridge. I learned some things!
Playing at the park on the Bellevue side...
Once the sun dipped below the shelf of clouds, we got a glorious full rainbow.
Truly I wish I could pray like my 5-year-old. When I hear her talking to God, she talks so freely, unconcerned with who else might hear her or the quality of what she might say. When I pray, I put on my own filter and tell myself I don't want others to hear me say *that* or I shouldn't be asking God for *that*. I hear my child tell God what she's worried about, what she is happy about, what she hopes for, what she appreciates about Him, the people she wants Him to help. I always feel that I don't want to pray after her if we're taking turns, because she's already said everything I wanted to say and more, and there is nothing more for me to add.
I think about how David prayed in the Psalms. His words are so raw and deeply human. Unfiltered. Sometimes even ugly. But at the same time poetic and musical. I remember a summer I spent reading the Psalms deeply, and how wonderful it was to be immersed in the realness of David's relationship with God. God was right there to David. He was not some far-away deity who might listen if he felt like it. David saw God as someone who was present, who cared, and who wanted to hear the deepest thoughts of his heart.
I want to learn from my daughter's example. And David's.
