learning to see things differently

there are a number of thoughts and blog entries in my head, but they haven't made it up onto the blog yet. for now, i just want to share a story by Matt Beimers that is published in the december issue of The Banner. It talks about opening one's eyes to see things differently.

The story begins so:

"Let the Little Children Come...."

I think tonight I found some Magi.

It was 6:00, and for no particular reason I decided that we needed to drive around and look at Christmas lights.

Never mind that no one wanted to go—there’s nothing like being forced to look at Christmas lights to cheer you up.

In typical fashion, the kids got over their frustration quicker than I did. They began singing Christmas carols five minutes into the drive. Me? I decided that the cheerful singing only made me grumpier. Sure, “Silent Night” is great, but what about those lights?!

Thankfully for everyone, I could only keep up my Grinch impression for so long. Generally speaking, little children singing carols and reenacting “A Charlie Brown Christmas” will eventually break down any hard-hearted wall you put up. On the way home we headed to McDonald’s for some ice cream, and I somehow managed to confuse the drive-through person into giving us an extra sundae.

While I had already learned some lessons by this point about pride and stubbornness, my education was just beginning."

To continue reading, click on http://www.thebanner.org/magazine/article.cfm?article_id=2398.

so much for peacefully lying in bed in the morning....

this morning i got a phone call at 7.15 - a somewhat panicked request for the location of the zwarte piet suits. it was a bit early but i'd been awake for awhile already. as soon as i start waking up in the morning, the cat interprets my movements as an invitation to pounce on me. i try to ignore him.

but this morning, the cat's playful antics were interrupted by his growing curiosity (and panic) about what was happening on the landing in front of my door. i was doing my best to ignore it, as i was still trying to somewhat peacefully contemplate my day]. but yeah, after noise, an anxious cat, and a phone call, it was obvious ignoring things wasn't working so well.

the noise turned out to be my new neighbour, moving an old mattrass out of the room. the cat ran out to investigate, much to my new neighbour's dismay. since i was unaware of her plans to move in at this time (and 7 is a bit early to be banging around), i can't say that i was all that sympathetic to her anxiety over my cat. after all, my cat is afraid of everything that moves - especially anything that moves quickly or makes loud noise (since my neighbour has a small daughter who moves quickly and makes lots of noise, i imagine the cat will soon be scared of visiting their house).

so much for peacefully lying in bed in the morning... and i would be annoyed about it all, but it's just too odd not to roll my eyes and laugh about it.

my boyfriend sang for the queen today

i think i'm more of the subtle type, dropping hints and waiting for people to ask questions or catch on. but sometimes, it's nice also to be a bit over-dramatic - and just say something that you expect will raise a few eyebrows. and since the title of this blog entry is technically true, it seemed a lovely eyebrow-raising blog title.

and so you ask, how is it that he (Matthijs - for the non-dutch folks, you say it Ma-tie-us [emphasis on the tie]) sang for the queen? well, he sings in a choir that sings cantates in the Klooster Kerk in Den Haag. and the queen was in attendance [apparently she goes there more often - Matthijs had mentioned that it was a bit of a chique church; i just don't think it fully dawned on me how chique it was until he pointed out to me the queen's presence in the little side room drinking coffee with the choir and others involved with the service]. i have to admit, i'm a bit in awe of royalty and big names and so on [i think growing up in rural canada might explain a bit of that], so it made rather an impression on me.

but since the title was intended less to be a springboard for my musings about royalty and more for letting others know about Matthijs' presence in my life, i'll say a bit more about that. we've been dating awhile now (this is purposely vague - we talked today about how long we've been dating and not surprisingly, we both had different ideas/answers. as a side note, i've noticed a tendency [albeit unscientifically verified] that many couples have different stories about how and when they started dating (which also makes it an interesting question to ask)).
we met at an old testament conference the summer before last. we bumped into each other this past summer during the ordination service of a member of the community here. we were surprised to see each other in such a different context (he was there for choir and i because of the community), and we started talking. i gave him my email because he said he was interested in the community. and we mailed. and so on.

it's been good. yet, at the same it's been a bit odd: the whole dating thing took me by surprise, as i was expecting to be spending a lot of time this year working on my dissertation, an old thesis, and figuring out how i fit in the community - and there were enough questions and uncertainties and effort involved in those things without also adding dating alongside! and it's odd, because we're both a bit older and both have our own lives already - so how do we get to know each other with all of our different history and different plans and ideas - and also when we both now live in somewhat different worlds?
so i don't react to the whole situation like a giggly teenager who blushes when you ask her about the boy she likes. in fact, for the longest time, if you asked me about it, i would have smiled but also would have appeared less enthusiastic and more confused by it all (probably because i was puzzled - and still am a bit).

i've since gotten over a bit of my surprise about Matthijs' presence in my life - and have been generally enjoying dating him, and i'm thankful that i've also been stretched and challenged through this. but even as much as i'm glad about this whole situation, it's still new enough and i'm shy enough, that i'm not sure how much more i'll talk about it here. but i did at least want to give at least a glimpse of this part of my life.

about faith and believing in the impossible (further reflections on OT stories)

we're still reading through the book of Kings in the morning chapels. we read through 2 Kings 4:8-37 quite awhile ago, but parts of the story have still stuck with me. and since it has to do with the impossibility of a barren woman becoming pregnant, wondering about Sara's laughter and the birth of Isaac has drawn my attention back to this story in Kings.

the story begins with Elisha receiving hospitality from a wealthy woman from Shunem (as a side note, neither her nor her husband is ever named in the story). Elisha wants to pay back her gracious hospitality, so her offers her better standing or help with the king. She says that she's quite happy, thanks. Elisha does not accept her answer although he doesn't seem to have much clue about what the woman might really want. and so he asks his servant for help - he gives the obvious answer: that the woman's husband is old and she has no son.

so Elijah calls the woman and promises her a son. up to this point in the story, Elisha has come across as being a bit clueless concerning women and motherhood, so i'm not exactly sure how he might have told her - or what reaction he might have been expecting. but the woman's reaction was clear. her immediate response was negative -"No, my lord!""Please, man of God, don't mislead your servant!" (TNIV - v 16).

after her words of disbelief and denial, the next thing we read is that she conceived and bore a son, just like Elisha had said. i'm not sure whether you would say that God didn't listen to her - it seems more like He did listen; He just listened to the words she wasn't able to say - and the hope that she wasn't able to have.

and the story continues. the child grew up. one day the boy contracts heat stroke and dies in his mother's lap. his mother laid him in the prophet's room and left in a rush to see the prophet, all the while claiming that everything was just fine. when she met Elisha's servant, she still claimed that things were fine. but when Elisha saw her, he saw that she was very upset. and her words to Elisha were: "did i even ask you for a son? didn't i tell you not to mislead me?!!"

Elisha tries to send his servant to heal the boy but the woman refused to leave Elisha. for me, it's as if she was saying, 'you promised me the impossible once and i would not believe then - but now that you've gotten me into all this, i expect you to do everything you can, even the impossible.

so Elisha went to the child. the servant could not heal the boy. but Elisha went in to the dead boy, prayed, laid down on the boy, the boy grew warm, Elisha walked around a bit, laid down on the boy again, and the boy sneezed 7 times and opened his eyes. Elisha called for the mother and gave her her son back. the woman bowed down to Elisha and accepted the gift of her son.


and it's a fascinating story. and when i hear it, i wonder at the woman's faith - how she had such a hard time believing Elisha's promise of a son - as if she'd given up hope for ever having a son and couldn't believe that this impossibility could really happen. and then i wonder at her faith in going to Elisha when her son died - and how she attached herself to him, as if to say that he had to finish what he started - that if she was promised the impossible before, she now expects the impossible to happen again.

and i wonder about how my own faith relates - about how i sometimes stop expecting or hoping for things, so as to protect myself from experiencing the pain of being disappointed (again). and i also wish i had more of that blatant 'in your face' kind of faith that the woman shows at the end of the story - the whole "this was Your idea, God. You got me into this mess, God, so I am expecting You to do something about it." not that i don't expect to have to do something myself, but i'd still like more of that crazy faith and expectation.

the 'rest of the story' concerning my house and apartment

when i think about things that go wrong in the community, i sometimes look at my house and think, hmm, something went wrong here. now that the new-ness has worn off, it's become more obvious to me that there's a lot of things that need fixing - and probably should have been fixed up a long time ago. and as much as i'm glad for the apartment, when i look at it honestly, i'm a bit embarassed by how shabby it is.

when i'm honest (and sometimes that's hard), i realize that part of that's my own fault. i could have put more time and effort into fixing up the place before moving in - the community provides paint and other resources, so long as i'm willing to do the work. but as soon as i knew i could move, i wanted to be there as soon as possible - and since i'm not exactly all that good at practical things, i wasn't really up for the amount of energy and time i would need to invest to learn how to do it decently (and most of my 'normal' helpers with moving/fixing network live in Canada - a bit too far to commute). so i moved in after some good cleaning and having a housemate paint a bit, and i did my best not to look too closely.

but now that i've been here awhile, i've seen more. and i've realized that i'm not the first person in this apartment who's not so good with practical things. and i'm not the only one who's tried not to look too closely. there's insulation sprayed into cracks but never fully cleaned up, the hot water tap wasn't working when i moved in, holes that have never been filled (papers filling some of those holes), a board and a cubby-hole that substitute for my kitchen cupboards (because i have none), a functional but shabby bathroom/shower, walls that are bubbling and cracking (my linen cupboard hides one and i'm hoping my cat either stops jumping against the other crack/dent or stays light enough not to make a difference), a ladder that's cracked enough not to be entirely safe, and so on. i feel like i'm moving in after people who chose not to make much initiative in the house - and that my house has been allowed to be neglected (after all, i have the only kitchen in the community which (still) has no cupboards whereas others are getting kitchen renovations).

but a bit of perspective helps a lot. when i put in a request for things, things get fixed up. my hot water works now. i know how to re-start the heating system. duct-tape has rendered my ladder safe - and there's a pending request for a new one (although it's probably good that i still have the old one since my cat uses it as his scratching pole).

and i discovered recently that all the big requests for fixing have been put on hold. the plans to renovate the bathroom have been in the works for awhile already but it just doesn't make sense to do it now. in about a year, the foundation of the house needs to be fixed up - the poles need to be replaced. so the plans to fix up the bathroom and installing kitchen cupboards will have to wait until that's done - and the house has re-adjusted. and hearing that news helped push away the nagging idea that my house/apartment has been neglected.

and i realize that if and where my house does bother me, i have an excuse for the big problems. and as for the little problems, i'm recognizing that i can still do something about them. i can still pick up a paintbrush or find some caulking or scrape away some of the remainders of the insulation. if i am planning on staying in the netherlands and the community, these are probably some helpful skills for me to learn.

looking for the 'rest of the story'

one of the realities of living in a community (especially a large one) is that it's impossible to keep up with all the details of the community, whether it be the people or events or the physical space.

sometimes that's nice - after all, no one needs to know how messy my house can get and sometimes it's nice to know that i can still hide a few big secrets (like having a boyfriend) from the nosiest of my neighbours.

but sometimes, people and things can fall through the cracks. people can be sick or not doing well and no one notices. someone's birthday comes and no one seems to know or care. and in situations like that, it's hard not to feel neglected or frustrated. and it's hard not to make conclusions about how unconcerned and selfish others are. and it's hard to remember that there's almost always more to the story - like the fact i'm also selfish and i'm not the only struggling with things. the longer i live in community, the more i recognize the need to remember and look for the rest of the story. it's just sometimes hard to look beyond the easy answers, even as much as i'm learning that it's definitely worth the effort.

why does everyone always remember that it is Sara who laughed?

i've always wondered why it is that everyone remembers that Sara (and not Abraham) laughed when she heard that she would bear a child. and even more so, why it is often seen as bad that she laughed. at least, that's what i expect a lot of people think - perhaps i have it wrong. it is what i often thought/remembered until awhile ago.

in Gen 18, Abraham gets some special visitors (Melchizedek and company) - and they tell them that within a year Sara, his wife, will have a son. Sara overheard them and laughed. when they asked her if she laughed, she lied about it (perhaps the lying was the bad part of the story - but i can imagine that lying was a lot more polite and hospitable to her guest than admitting that she laughed, which implied that she doubted not only the validity of the message and its source but might have even wondered if her guest was 'right in the head.')

prior to this story Abraham and Sara had tried to help God along with the promise of descendents - and Abraham bore a child by Hagar, Sara's maidservant (and those who know the story know that this was a bit of a disaster). but God promised again and again that Abraham would have children. and in Gen 17, the chapter before the one in which Sarah laughts, Abraham is told that Sarah would bear him a son. and Abraham laughs. and says, long live Ishmael (i.e. the son I already have). and God corrects him and says, no, Sarah will have a son, within a year. and the story ends with a list of blessings and promises and then Abraham goes home. the next thing we read in the story is the visitors to Abraham, the promise again of a son to Sarah and Abraham, and Sarah's laughter.

and it makes me wonder. did Abraham not tell Sarah about his talk with God and the promise? did Abraham not believe it himself (and did he believe it after it'd been confirmed by the messengers)? and why was Abraham not ashamed after he laughed but Sarah was? does it make a difference that Abraham already had one son and Sarah had none? how much pain had Sarah's childlessness already cost her? and did her laughter cover up her inability to dare hope anymore - she'd already spent years hoping and had nothing except Hagar and that son?

and it makes me wonder. perhaps some day i'll dig up some commentaries to see what they have to say, but for now it's enough just to look closely at the story and wonder. and i wonder what we miss when we only remember part of the story - or forget to see enough of the story that we stop wondering about the laughter - and why it is they named their child, Isaac, after laughter.