Painting Without Numbers

I've been painting lately. Here is a picture of my latest 30"x40" project. It's not finished yet, but I think I've reached the Staring Stage, where I can look at it from various angles and tweak it as I see fit. Any suggestions are welcome (up until Thursday, and then it is too late... Duhn! Duhn! Duhhh!).

Cordially Declined

“YOU SHALL NOT PASS”: the poignant words uttered by Gandalf as he faced the dreaded fire demon. As the hobbits screamed back with tear streaked faces, Gandalf battled his ominous foe. Even though he was drawing a line to alter the fire demon’s path, Gandalf’s own path was decidedly altered: behind him savage spider-like Goblins, farther back still, a dim-witted (but upset) water monster, and hundreds of miles up a mountain pass not fit for kings (or holiday ski resorts). Even for a wizard this was a serious plight. With a well-aimed wicked lash of the whip, the demon pulled Gandalf down with him into what was practically a bottomless abyss.
I guess all of this to say that Gandalf’s choice A was blocked, so he had to go with what was choice B or C (or maybe even Z).
As some of you know, I was declined entrance into KU’s School of Law. I would not say this was the school I had placed my highest hopes and expectations upon, but still, the way is blocked, and I acknowledge that this is not a good sign. Going to law school has been a large part of my focus for the last nine months, and I suppose the most upsetting aspect of this news is that I don’t have a plan B. I don’t know why, or for who, I need a plan B- is it for myself; my family; for God? I’m not sure; it just seems important right now.

… Hopefully, my fall back plan won’t involve sky diving with fire demons.

Water Water Everywhere

The swimming pool at Kansas Bible Camp provides a crucial, refreshing service to hundreds of giggling/ screaming/ shouting campers every summer. Because it remains coatless throughout the winter, rain water, leaves, frogs and miscellaneous debris combine forces to create murky water in its depths. The concoction is semi-lethal to the swimming pool filter, and so the water from the pool is removed via human muscle and five gallon buckets. I participated in this annual pool-cleaning event last weekend.
There are three aspects to the KBC water displacement process: there is the Scooper, who fills the bucket with water then hoists it up as far as they can to the ledge of the pool, then there is the Watchman, who hoists the bucket out of the pool, and finally, there is the Pourer who pours out the bucket once it reaches ground level. It did not take umpteen buckets of water for me to realize that I was (am) a weak individual, and this activity also helped me remember I had certain muscles that I had forgotten about. After two hours of this service, I was reduced to a haggard Pourer. And finally, towards the tail end of the activity, an individual crouched down by the side of the pool, handing down shaky empty buckets to those below.
This experience made me grateful I’m not a sailor, especially an old time sailor on a sinking ship. It is one thing to be doing this kind of work to the sound of cheerful voices singing catchy songs from Newsies, but to do this while fearing that my sailing vessel was going to plummet into the depths of Davey Jones… WHEW! That would be sobering. As a crew of approximately twenty-five people we displaced several feet of water from that swimming pool, but to have the whole ocean trying to get into the bowels of a ship through some broken boards would be disparaging, to say the least. The salt water would lash against your skin, stinging cuts and open wounds, and find its way into your eyes, mouth and ears. UGHTH! The battering from the ocean would knock even the most experienced sailor off their feet. The raw power of the ocean is startling; who can fight it?
If we tried displacing the ocean’s water in its entirety, it would be a stupid venture. No matter what we would use, it would be more foolhardy than attempting to empty the KBC pool with a handful of sewing thimbles.
Today I was reminded that God’s love is like an ocean. It is vast… it is powerful… and wow... that’s a lotta love!

An Audience Member

For my 24th Birthday two of my Irish roommates took me to hear the virtuoso violinist Benjamin Schmid play Concerto No. 1 by Szmanowski. Our front row seats were almost too close to the Dublin Symphony, if that is possible. As we craned our necks upwards, practically staring up into Schmid’s very nostrils, we witnessed Szmanowski played with zest and precision! Even though my roommates and I were practically sitting at the violinist’s feet, he was oblivious to our presence. He knew we were there collectively, the several hundred “we”, but Schmid could have cared less if the three of us were absent from the concert hall that night.
Or did our presence make a difference to this virtuoso? Come to think of it, we were well behaved audience members. We were not heckling or pummeling rotten fruit at him. We were there to support his playing, and did our best to avoid hindering the fire of his art. In a way, our presence DID matter.
There are many facets to being an audience member. When I was visiting my friend Jess in Columbia, I had the privilege of watching her lead a girl to Christ. Because of the language barrier I was unable to understand every word that was being said, and unable to fully take part in what was happening, but I understood what took place. In a small sense, I got to be part of the event. I witnessed God in action; changing a life; snatching a soul from the damnation of hell.
Several weeks ago I found myself at the doorstep of a woman in her 40s, asking her where she thought she would spend eternity when she died. I was scared, but I got to witness a person who was tender to the gospel, and who readily grasped hold of Christ. God had prepared this woman’s heart before I (and the two other people I was with) had timidly knocked on her door. As I think about this recent experience, I again find myself in the audience seat, and it occurs to me that someone greater than Schmid is playing the tune.

Pottery

This vessel is cracked
Water can only be held within
Halfway up; up to half way down
Yet this bowl can be used
To wash dusty feet

This vessel is scarred
A gash here deep within
A chip here; a chip there
Yet it still has beauty
It reflects another image

This vessel is shattered
Nothing can be held within
A shard here; a shard there
Yet the pieces are to be taken
To make something else

This vessel is sealed
A mystery lies within
Something powerful; something sweet
To be poured out
-HM

Abnormal Weather Patterns

I watched Sunny With a Chance of Meatballs with my neighbor girl last night. Here are a few lessons that my impressionable young mind picked up:

1. Nerds rule.
2. Nerds rock... and rule.
3. If you want to impress a member of the opposite sex build them a giant JELLO house.
3. Food becomes aggressive and intent on self-preservation after undergoing extreme mutation from excessive radiation exposure.
4. Eagles are to wizards what rat-birds are to mad scientists.
5. Man eating chickens can become chicken beating men.

Overall Conclusion: The movie was good, but the book is better.

Snow Drift Synopsis

It was 5:30 in the morning and below freezing. The angle that the car was sticking in the ditch indicated that it would take even more pushing to get it out. Again we pushed; again the tires sped and slipped around in the snow. I spit out the gravel that found its way in my mouth from the spinning tires. This was not the bravo start the girls and I wanted that morning traveling back to Kansas from Teec Nos Pos, AZ. The trip is long enough without the complications of a royally stuck vehicle.
Finally, after 4 hours of delay the car inched its way out of its snow cocoon, and we were free to start out again on our maiden journey. The trip back turned into an even greater adventure as we made our way onto the highway. In addition to getting stuck, our car broke down twice because of a cheeky battery. And because of two inadequate maps and a driver who didn’t know her way, that being myself, we made a wrong turn that contributed an hour or two to the trip. Even though these were frustratingly interesting experiences, I usually tend to dwell on the details of our stuck vehicle at the beginning of the trip more than anything else.
If it hadn’t been for Dale, who ran back the 7 miles to Immanuel mission to get help, the other girls and I would have been in an even more serious predicament. If it hadn’t been for the below zero degree weather sleeping bag that I brought, just because I wanted to try out a Christmas present, things could have been a great deal chillier in the car while we waited for Dale’s return.
Perhaps because of a mixture of rational and irrational fears, I have a fear of being in vehicles that are stuck in one place. I do not like the sound of spinning, slipping tires. I love the momentum of moving forward. And really, who knows how long it will take to get a trapped vehicle unstuck. Hours? Days? Years? Who wants their cute little car to turn into a rusted hunk of metal?
I also have a fear of spinning tires in a not so literal sense. I love the feel of momentum in my life- the thought that I am working towards goals and accomplishing things is invigorating to me. I was talking with a customer the other day, and I was relating to them the importance I felt about moving forward in a direction in life. Their reply to my dissertation was “Yeah, but you work in a drum shop.” All I could do was shrug, because yeah, I can see the irony of that, and yeah, those are the words I hear in my own heart sometimes. But when I seriously think about it, I know that I am taking steps to move forward. I just finished taking a law entrance exam for the second time, I’m also applying to a few colleges and sprucing up some resumes to apply to other jobs. It is hard to know if this is simply spinning my tires, or if I will gain some ground in using my energy towards this. Even though spinning tires isn’t desirable, I know that tires that are moving are at least more advantageous than those that are motionless.
And thinking back to our car stuck in that snow drift, I don’t believe it was really in danger of becoming a rusted hunk of metal. There were four of us girls who strongly wanted it to be out of that drift, and I am comforted by this thought. I have a God who can use immobility, spinning tires and motion to get me where I need to be, and He is not in the habit of walking off and forgetting about people who need help.

Philippians 1:6 For I am confident of this very thing, that He who began a good work in you will perfect it until the day of Christ Jesus.