The Essence of Worship

“To worship is to quicken the conscience by the holiness of God, to feed the mind with the truth of God, to purge the imagination by the beauty of God, to open the heart to the love of God, to devote the will to the purpose of God.”
- William Temple

Wow, that is a packed quote. Let's break it down!


To quicken the conscience by the holiness of God
See Isaiah 6. You really ought to read the whole chapter, but I'll quote the relevant part here. 

"...I saw the Lord sitting upon a throne, high and lifted up; and the train of his robe filled the temple. Above him stood the seraphim. ...And one called to another and said:
'Holy, holy, holy is the LORD of hosts;
the whole earth is full of his glory!'
And the foundations of the thresholds shook at the voice of him who called, and the house was filled with smoke. And I said: 'Woe is me! For I am lost; for I am a man of unclean lips, and I dwell in the midst of a people of unclean lips; for my eyes have seen the King, the LORD of hosts!'"

When I read that, I am in awe of my God. His robe fills the temple, and his glory fills the whole earth. I find it incredible that the foundations shook at the voice of - not God - but of his servants the seraphim. Unbelievable! Imagine what the voice of God in all its wonder might do. (hmm... maybe create the galaxies...?)

Imagine witnessing this and being so overwhelmed with the knowledge of his holiness that you are undone. Isaiah was not yet atoned for (that happens in the following verses) so we do have a different status than him as children of God, but still we are so infinitely less than the eternal God! 

In worship we come face to face with God's incredible holiness, in stark contrast to our daily struggles, and our consciences are full aware of the gap between. Praise be to God we are not stuck there! Let's move on to the second phrase.


To feed the mind with the truth of God
The truth of God. I might define that as his Word, his Bible that contains the truth about all of life. One of those truths is that through Jesus' death on the cross we are purified and made blameless before God. Our daily struggles may yet remain until we see him face to face, but the truth of our redemption is glorious knowledge that worship rejoices to remind us of.

There are multitudes of other truths as well. In fact this is a reason why I love hymns - they are often based heavily on scripture so contain solid truths rather than interpreted ones like in many modern worship songs. Still, God can speak through any medium, and worship is a beautiful way to once again feed upon those foundations of the faith that hold us through the storms of life.


To purge the imagination by the beauty of God
This phrase is very dear to me. The beauty of God is something I haven't yet begun to comprehend, but that I find myself pondering so often. Whenever I see something beautiful in creation, I think "That's the beauty of God... only a way minimized version." I really believe creation - not only the physical earth but also things like emotions and relationships - really show the beauty of God's mind and heart. It's unfathomable if you think about it. For just a few of the beautiful things that begin to show us how glorious God is, check out his post. It says enough I think, for this segment.



To open the heart to the love of God
Now that we've gotten a real glimpse at the holiness, truth and beauty of God, we are confronted by an impossible truth. He loves us. He loves you. He loves me. And wow, how unbelievable is that! He chooses to love us with a love that is beyond our understanding - a love that sacrifices all to redeem us and has given us absolutely above and beyond anything we could deserve. 

Open your heart! For whatever reason, we humans are so protective of our hearts, so unwilling to accept love that many of us end up with hearts of stone. The purpose here is to soften our hearts, to give them the terrifying task of opening up and receiving all the great love of God. That is not easy but it is necessary and beautiful. As the words of a famous song say, he is the Lover of our Soul - that is a deep and intrinsic need of ours and it is vital to allow our hearts to receive the love that don't deserve, but desperately desire.


To devote the will to the purpose of God.
Finally we come to the place where we are infused with the love of God and rightly we want nothing more than his purpose. It is the desire of the beloved to devote all time and energy to pleasing the Lover. This is the attitude that I sincerely believe God desires, the serving that comes from being overjoyed with his love and a longing to give him all that we can because of what he has done for us. 

And so we surrender our agendas, our wants and even our needs. We commit our will - that part of us that determines what we strive for - to God's purpose, furthering his kingdom, shining his light to a broken world. It is the most glorious cause one could ever have! What a joy that we are allowed to participate in his redeeming, sovereign plan. 

What a fantastic thing worship is, truly! I hope this imperfect but heartfelt study of worship blessed you in some way. It definitely blessed me to write!

Why would a "loving" God .... ?

Lately I have been thinking about how many people struggle with depression. That constant feeling that there's no purpose. Having not even an ounce of drive, and just feeling so utterly listless that it would drive you crazy except you.just.don't.care.

I've been there. It's so paralyzing. There's no kind words you can say to get someone out of that. It's beyond human. Positive thinking is really great and often works wonders, but it can't touch this state. And that's really humbling. I couldn't do a thing to get myself out of that, I really couldn't. Bring me all the ice cream in the world, it honestly didn't help. My friends were praying for me, it honestly didn't help. Even me praying didn't help. I didn't usually feel any better after talking to God. This was scary, too. He was supposed to be there to get me out of this, but he wasn't.

At the crux of it, I found that I couldn't control God. Elementary, I know. But listen: I couldn't use him. He wasn't a genie, or magic solution -  I could pray to him and feel absolutely 0% different.
That's not what I had come to expect. If you're not going to take this away, Lord, at least show me you're there.

And then I realized, he didn't have to respond. He had already given me what I needed in that time. The truth. That he loved me, more than I could fathom. He did not, on the other hand, ever promise to make me feel better.The hard reality is, God does what he wants. And what he "wants" is the ultimate plan of the universe. That plan is a love story.

"Well if he loved us, he would show it by revealing himself to us, to give us hope." To be blunt, well ... that's what you think. God apparently has a slightly different definition of love. His love is so great and unknowable. His love lets us experience some incredibly difficult and downright agonizing times. To our human understanding of love this doesn't make a whole lot of sense. Yes, we know that tough times make people stronger - but I'm talking REAL horrific things here. Worse than depression. How can we sit here and believe that God just allows or even sovereignly ordains that?

I am treading on some extremely difficult ground right here. Most of you reading this have experienced a horrible valley, probably worse than mine. For a long time I felt I could never say these truths - about God's sovereign love - to people going through deep valleys. But I can't hold back. The truth is the truth, no matter if it offends or makes someone feel bad. If I'm offending you right now, please don't stop reading yet.

EVERYTHING works together for good for those who love Him and are called according to his purposes. I know you've heard that verse a million and a half times. Read it again. Grasp what it means. This is not some lame promise - this is a rock solid foundation to build your entire life upon. God LOVES. His love does the strangest things. The most painful things. And do not forget: His love heals the pain and makes clear the strangeness (though usually not until we transfer to the greater Life).

God is not defined (thank the Lord!) by our human concepts of love. His love let the most kind, wise and good man you can imagine, suffer for hours in a excruciating, gruesome death. And let me add, he didn't only let that happen. He planned it. This kind of suffering is the epitome of "not fair" and the opposite of love to most of our brains. Imagine with me for a moment that the story stopped there. Our whole lives we were left with the most cruel, un-loving thing planned by the God who created us, and there was nothing to but 1; reject this "god" and say he is utterly unloving, or 2; fall on your face before him, cry that you don't understand, and give him your utter trust. That's literally all we can do. It's okay to cry. It's okay to be angry, even. But is necessary to trust Him.

We know the end of that story. The resurrection of our Savior and how the pain was not for nothing, but for his full glory and the redemption of his chosen bride. But we don't usually know the end of our stories while we're right in the middle of them.

Honestly, the most true and best advice I know to give is this: don't try to understand it. Give up trying to figure God out. We can't. He's infinitely too beyond us. The more you try to put what is happening and what you are feeling into human terms the more unfair it will seem and harder it will be to focus on TRUTH. Just trust.

Expectations

Ohhh I have such a love/hate relationship with expectations

I don't have any kind of solution in this post, just so you know. It's just be venting and frustrated. Haha. Seriously though. If you can help me, please do.

I know I shouldn't have expectations. But for the life of me I cannot figure out how NOT to. We plan a date night. Stephen gets called in to work that evening. Expectation = dashed. But it wasn't wrong of me to expect and look forward to the date was it?

This happens all the time. At least with books and movies I've learned to expect nothing from them, but in real life.... that's just different. I'm not sure how. I wish I knew! But every time something doesn't go according to plan, I have a hard time with it. I try to be flexible but I can't help looking forward to things.

Granted, I'm always OK later, but the initial onset of emotions when I find out is unsettling. I suppose by now I should be used to my emotions, but they make me feel at their mercy and I know that's not true. Gosh that is a whole post by itself.

Anyhow. Then there's the party expectation. I expect to go to this event and have a good time. Or, I expect to have coffee with my friend and it's going to be edifying. When those are disappointed it's the same thing. I kick myself for creating these expectations. But I didn't even mean to create them!

My husband has a special power. He can not create expectations. I'm not sure how he does it. Maybe it's part of being even keel and carefree. Hmmmmm....

So yeah. That's it. Just a rant, like I said. Anyone else have issues with this or is it just me?

The Leaky Pot Syndrome

Bear with me on this one. I know the title is weird.

2 Corinthians 4:7 says, "But we have this treasure in jars of clay, to show that the surpassing power belongs to God and not to us." Okay, let's look at the context. The treasure referenced here is the "light of the knowledge of the glory of God" (v6) The knowledge. I find that fascinating.

I can just see the clay pot, light spilling out of its many cracks. It's fantastic imagery. One day I was sitting thinking about this and I realized that light and knowledge and joy doesn't just shine through those cracks - it spills out of them and pretty soon it needs to be refilled.

We are leaky. 

Think of how true this is. We hear a sermon; it fills us up with knowledge. The next week, it's all but forgotten. We experience the Lord's intervening firsthand. We are filled with amazement. The next week, it's spilled out the cracks and no longer a reality to us. We are at a Bible Study and the text fills us with the joy of the Lord. But it doesn't stay - it can't. We are leaky.

Our cracks will not be sealed until the next life. While we are still in these shadow lands, we must be continually refilled with the light of the knowledge of God's Glory. Over and over again. This is why weekly Bible studies are so important. Daily reading and praying. Regular fellowship with the body. We must immerse ourselves in the Truth.

We've all come to those places where we are absolutely empty. There's nothing left, there's no motivation, no joy. Fill up with Him. Sometimes we can't do it ourselves. Sometime God will fill us with the words of friend or stranger.

So don't be discouraged when you realize you've been leaking out the glory. It's inevitable. It's what keeps us coming back to our knees.

The smudge

I know it's been an awfully long while. Lately I've been trying vainly to come up with a brilliant idea for a post. Nothing has come.

However today I ran across the words I wrote in my Beloved's valentine card earlier this year. I found them poignant and still very true. I apologize that it is yet another love-themed post, but I'm still a newlywed technically. Cut me some slack.

I didn't know there was a black

dot on the page. Until I touched it.

It smudged around the beautiful capital

S I had made. And not just once ... every

time I tried to fix it - yet another smudge

appeared. I was crushed. The card had already

taken longer than I had anticipated and I was just

starting to like its peculiarity. And now it's marred.

Flawed. How could I give it to you?                     

  Then it dawned on me. Stephen, you have touched me - 

and I you - in places of the soul that have never been seen.

Before, these small vices and imperfections were unnoticeable

little dots. But then you touched me. They were brought to light 

in unlovely ways. I've cried so much these past two months, because 

you have smeared my dots. I didn't want to see those flaws. 

I didn't  want you to know. I couldn't give you a flawed 

        bride. I had to be perfect for you.                                            

But I'm not.                

                                     And it is painful

for you - and me - to have to face these things. You

may think this is an exaggerated story, and not

one to be told on Valentines Day. But the

fact that you love me in spite of my

imperfections - that you love me

unconditionally - THAT is the

best gift I've ever been

given to me. Stephen,

That is true

love. 

Man and Wife

Greetings.

I'm MARRIED!

Isn't he handsome? Yes, I know I am ridiculously lucky. The greatest thing is that the handsomest part of him is his enormous heart.

It's been a whirlwind adjusting to married life - much different than either of us expected. Some things are easy, we adjust seamlessly. Others are hard. REALLY hard. And it takes time, and tears, to figure out. The best part of it is that we're not alone, we're in this together. So now, after a month of marriage, I find myself in awe of what the future holds. In one month we've been through so much and grown ever closer. What will one year - or fifty! - do to us?

I can't wait.

I'll leave you with a little something I wrote yesterday...

I sit here at work, thinking about his eyes. His deep, grateful eyes. So often they stare at me with something of a praise, an adoration. He considers himself the recipient of a grand gift that he is not worthy of. It's those eyes that look into me and melt any pride or selfishness that may have rested within me. Isn't it fascinating, that adoration from the beloved causes humility rather than vanity?

And there are other things I dwell on. The presence of him. Of when I snuggle against him: the presence of his jaw above me, shoulder beside me and chest beneath me. Together they make this stronghold, where no fear can penetrate. Then there is his warmth, the arms that wrap about me in love. So firmly, so gently. The soft tender kisses full of all beautiful things, warmth and light and passion and joy. 

Oh the quiet joy! It fills me as I sit here, at my computer, in a small cubicle in a cold commercial building filled with bored, listless people. I am in love. No longer is it the spring love, the eager anticipation and daydreaming. We have been satisfied; we are complete now. Our love is now the broad, gently rolling ocean, where once it was a playful splashing river. We have traded anticipation for fulfillment. Both beautiful, but the inevitable trade was in our favor. We have gained a sea of love - quieter, yes, but ever more deep. We have the boundless depths of each other to search through, some places jagged and rough, some gentle, and lovelier than we had dreamed.

These are the thoughts that fill my mind. They seem poetic, but we are ever so normal together. When I see him later today he will smile and I will kiss him. We will go grocery shopping and head home to plop our stuff on the table, read the mail and talk about our days. It all sounds so ordinary. But everyday life becomes a joy when it is permeated with love. No, I do not always choose to see that love. Sourness easily commandeers my attitude. 

But then I see those eyes. Deep, grateful, adoring. And I melt, falling into that warm ocean. There is no time, no room for complaints and pettiness. I dive in to explore the depths.

Last Post as a "Miss"

Well folks, I'm getting married this Saturday. All of the preparation is basically done, though I still need to finish packing for the honeymoon. I found myself with, miraculously, a few moments to spare, so I thought I'd come on here and write my last post as Miss Ariel.

Here's an excerpt from my journal.

"The beauty is that my soul is bare before him and he loves more than ever. The transparency, the flaws, everything - the beautiful and the things I want to hide. All bared to him. And he chooses to love.

I can't understand it!

He knows me, intimately. My crabbiness and selfishness. The part of me that snaps at my mother and rolls my eyes at him. The part of me that's so ugly. He loves that part of me. How? I don't know...

but maybe I do. Maybe, because I know that part of him. He is flawed, this I know. Some of these flaws I will struggle to not mention, to not criticize. But how could they ever affect my love for him?? What a ridiculous thought! I love him because of who he is, what he is, what he does, says, feels, thinks...... everything. It may not be logical. Oh well.

Love has never been so real. Love is breathing and living inside me so fervently it's like another reality. I've not lived here my whole life. And this isn't the "in-love" high that goes away apprently after the first year or so. This is a daily, choice, a purpose, a reason for being alive. An affection, a passion, a pursuit to know him intimately. It's filling me with life. This is staying. I will not lose this. I will - I don't care if it's hard sometimes, it already has been - continue to choose him, to choose love, because at the end of the day I am in his arms, safe and warm as can possibly be. At the end of the day I will be in the heaven of his embrace, and the mistakes we've made during the day are washed away with grace and love."

I am incredibly blessed. This is just a short bit of the many outpourings of joy his love has brought me. Truly, there is nothing better than to be loved for who you are. To be known completely and loved - that is what all humanity longs for.
"But God shows his love for us in that while we were still sinners, Christ died for us." God can see the ugliest deepest bits of me that even Stephen may never see. And yet He loves me, knowing all. It is inconceivable.

Sorry for the mini sermon. But seriously, that's a perk to having a man in your life. You start to see all these similarities between his love for you and Christ for his bride.

Anyway, to end this slightly disjointed blog post (hey, you can't blame me. I'm getting married in THREE DAYS) I'll just say that God knows his stuff. His timing is perfect. Trust him, because the results, no matter how long they take, are more than worth it.

God is so good.  The end. See you when I'm a married woman.

A Gift Given

I can't write poetry.
I can't ryhme. No matter how
hard
I
try
it all comes out like the corniest thing you've ever seen.
Like what you were forced to write
in middle school.

But I need to
somehow
express the glory that has been given to me.
I wanted to use a poem, but I failed
miserably
so I'm going to just tell you
not so fancy.
Just words.

Love
I'm still learning what it means
but it is
I'm afraid
too beautiful to grasp in a word.
It's more than wanting what's best for someone
more than wanting to be with them every moment
more than wanting them to succeed so badly
that you cry for them
hurt for them
cheer for them
pray for them and never stop
even when the happy feeling in your stomach that you always have
goes away
because they're not perfect.

Neither are you.

This is what I'm learning of love.
This is one of those things that together make up this glory I spoke of.
that I am allowed to experience the beauty and the hurt
of love
and that I am gifted with his love
and gifted with love for him.

And that is the beginning
because I have grown up in love.
These two dear individuals who have cared for me
for two decades
have hurt for me
cheered for me
prayed for me
And I have learned to do the same for them.

The world is so full of pain
twisted things
so full of envy and pride and greed and
hatred
especially for oneself
that love can rarely survive.
I know I am one of the few who have it
whole
and not twisted.
Not perfect
no.
But so pure.

Why me?
I have asked that question before
regarding anguish.
Why was it given to me?
Now I ask it
regarding
love.
Why was it given to me?
Why was the glory of love in it's blooming beauty
bestowed upon such a small
insignificant
normal
human
as
I.
Why.

I have no answer save this truth:

I am loved.

And that great Love that has chosen to give to me
more than I could ever deserve.
There is no explanation
save Love.

I now
rejoice
that my love
will keep blooming
as time goes on and on
moreso with every day with him
and oh!
that is too much for me to bear.

But I can't write poems.
And you are most likely
very tired
by this choppy bit of writing here.
So I will stop
and leave you with the great mystery
and glory.

It is worth pondering.

- Ariel J | January 2014

Death: A Moment of Beauty

A year ago today, my family and I and a couple friends hiked Rainie Falls. Among those friends was a young man named Josh. None of us knew that May 5 was his last day on this earth. 

After Josh fell into that river, myself and many others felt a sense of an ending. A death, a hole, a sudden jolting stop. But for Josh, that fall was a beginning. A glorious beginning.

I don't want to think of it as the day he died. I want to think of May 5 as the day he finally became alive. That is why I wrote this. It is written from Josh's perspective -- a guess as to what it might have been like to die.

_____________________________

It all begins with the calming.

My adrenaline, my fear – all of the sensations that seemed so real when I fell into this river – fade away. Everything settles into a strange, quiet serenity. Almost as if time itself has ceased.
Until now I was praying half-consciously, but now I send intentional words into the silence: Lord, what is happening?

Understanding comes as peacefully as the stillness around me.

This is my last moment on earth.

I feel subdued, contented. I never knew it would be so peaceful to die.

The calm is broken by sudden elation. I am going to Heaven – I'm going to Jesus! The next moment my joy is jolted by panic. A thousand thoughts tumble through my mind – all of the things I haven't done, the things I haven't said... Wait – Lord – what about –

Come to me, my son.

Thrill pulsates through me. Did I just hear the voice of God? Did my King speak to me?

Without warning the faces of my parents flash in front of me. Wait! I want to hold on; I start reaching out, grasping for the familiarity of earth's consciousness. But Lord …

Joshua. Come home.

I let go.

Reality morphs. In a electrifying and indescribably beautiful moment, I die.

Light explodes in my mind. I shudder with joy as it flows through my veins, glowing, pulsing – my new heartbeat, my new pulse.

At the same time, I am aware of a deeply curious sensation. I am being lifted up…  out... out of the only reality I know. It's like I'm being turned inside out. Something is slipping off of me, as if an old, heavy, tattered coat that I never knew I was wearing. As the strangling burden releases me I realize what it is.

My sin.

Every struggle, every temptation, every misery over that old nature that continually tormented me – gone. Oh, Jesus, I will never sin again! God, thank you!

Freedom eclipses me. Freedom – so raw and intense I wonder that I can contain it. It is radiating out of me. Light is emanating from me, but not my own light. I know that. I am reflecting the Light of the Son of God.

Time doesn't matter anymore. Only one thing matters.

My entire being pours itself out in praise to my King. I can't bear to keep in such all-consuming joy. Most glorious of all, there is no struggle to find a way to convey my gratitude. It flows straight from my heart without pause, a stream of passionate adoration.

I am swept up in unspeakable ecstasy, with the knowledge I will be worshiping my God like this for an eternity to come.

Praise the Lord! It is finished. My soul has reached it's ultimate redemption. I am home.

I, Joshua Steven Eddy, died.

And now I am finally alive.

                                            _____________________________

Define: Courtship

Ladies and gentlemen, now that I am officially in a courtship, I thought I might try to clear up all of the confusion surrounding the word.

(it's from the movie Emma. And has nothing to do with the rest of the post really.)

courtship [ˈkɔːtʃɪp]

noun

        1. the act or art of seeking the affections of a woman; wooing
        2. the period during which such wooing takes place

        Cool. Sounds nice and old-fashioned. But this word has become so common among the homeschool subculture that it's lost its meaning altogether. When you hear a couple is “courting,” what does that mean? Arranged marriage for the 21^st century? Awkward dating with both parents watching constantly? Or just Christians doing the same bf/gf thing as everyone else – but with a reformed name?

        All those things may be named courtship, but to me, courtship is really only one thing: a relationship between a man and woman seeking to determine God's will in their future, while protecting each other and honoring their parents. It's really about the principles, because every courtship is different.

        When my sister started a courtship, it was new ground for us. Sure, we'd read tons of books about courting and watched sermons about purity – goodness, we'd even listen to long tapes during car trips on the topic – but then we would hear “every courtship is different,” leaving us basically on our own to create this thing called courtship for our own family.

        Thank goodness.

        We thought the rules applied to everyone. Rules about timing, stages, and even as specific as physical boundaries. But we learned that the most important thing about courtship is that it is very different for every couple. Everything is different because the people are different.

        Some last a couple months, some a couple years. Some involve heavy parental oversight, some little. Some couples know each other for years before-hand, while some hardly at all when the courtship begins.

        I cannot place enough importance on being willing to make adjustments to your picture of the “perfect courtship” because of your situation. It's really okay! Still there are basic essentials. Here are the basic Principles of courtship. (I capitalized the P because the 3 essentials start with Ps... clever, I know...)

1. Purposeful intent
2. Purity valued
3. Parental involvement

        So first, purposeful intent. This is mostly to shield against the culture-condoned practice of dating for fun, or to “just get to know” without serious interest in marriage. Because this is done in a environment that promotes romantic feelings, the fear is that it leads to emotional attachment (which is usually true) and then to heartbreak. Yes, we know heartbreak isn't the end of the world, and it can be a great growth process, but it's generally way more efficient to get to know people outside of a romantic context. A courtship is always looking toward marriage as a hopeful goal. (Not a definite goal. That's called “engagement.” And yes, that was sarcastic.)

        Purposeful also means you wait until the young people are ready to begin a courtship. It is not an easy out for two infatuated young people to have a romantic relationship even though they're not anywhere near marriage – but oh, it's okay because we're courting. Shall I quote Song of Solomon? Don't start things until the two people are ready for things to be started.

        I tend to put prominence on maturity. Yes, a job is important; yes, knowledge of house-keeping is important; but knowing how to sacrifice and be vulnerable and being ready to enter the extremely hard puzzle that marriage is: this is most crucial. At least to me.

        Now, with each of these principles, some people go overboard. For instance: Waiting until they're ready, to some people, means the man must already be ready to support a wife and three children before he asks to court anyone. (I only exaggerated a little, actually. Sadly.) While financial stability is important, it may not be a reason for delaying courtship. Neither may age be. Usually, a courtship of two 17-year-olds isn't the wisest thing, but sometimes it works! It is different for everyone. I know of a couple who had a long but blessed courtship that began when they were about that age. They are married now and so glad they could do all of those years of growing side by side. It definitely does not work for everyone, but don't rule it out as impossible. Please.

        Now on to number 2. Purity valued. Purity is probably the most enormous focus in courtship talks/books. It doesn't just mean physical. Emotional purity is one of the most-talked-about topics for young women. "Emotional purity" actually isn't the best wording (discretion would be better) because it implies it is something that can be lost and never regained (more on that later). But emotional discretion is really important, especially for girls, and especially when they're young. Do not be reckless with your love, or foolish with your thoughts. Remember, the heart determines the course of the life. (Psalm 4:23, NLT) And as far as physical purity, God commands it.

        Now, how some go overboard. Does it surprise you that the day I realized kissing before marriage isn't a sin was not very long ago? Okay, it's not as if I consciously thought it was, but my subculture so valued “saving” your kiss for your wedding day that I was secretly judging anyone who didn't. Until I realized it wasn't actually any kind of moral failing – it was just a wise idea. First kiss at the altar is a very good idea for keeping physical purity. But please remember that it's not a sin to decide not to. (Decide being an important word. “It just happened” when you planned to save it for the big day is a different issue. Set your boundaries and keep them.)

        And on the emotional side of things... oh boy. Ladies, please hear me out. If you fall in love with a man, and end up not marrying him, it is okay. It will not make you less pure, leaving you partially defiled on your wedding day. You do not leave a part of your heart with that first man that you can never give to your husband. Yes, you might always remember him, perhaps with regret – but no matter how many times you fall in love, you will always have all your heart to give your true love.

        I say this not to encourage you to fall in love, but to hearten those who have done so, wisely or not. Too much pressure on guarding your heart will make you afraid of taking the steps needed to create that deep relationship vital in a courtship. I am writing a post about my own experience facing that choice of vulnerability, and what I discovered about keeping my heart in a courtship. Stay tuned for that.        

        So that's all I can say for now without being utterly-way-too-long. Guarding your heart is good, very good, but please don't take it overboard. It's damaging to your relationship with your future husband.

        Last but not least, number 3: Parental involvement. This is probably the principle you will have the hardest time finding in the dating world. In fact, you don't even find it much in engagement. But courtshipers (I think I made up that word) find it very important. Basically, this includes the woman's father “checking out” the young man, setting boundaries for the courtship, and just being involved in the whole process.

        I love this. I really love it. First, it gives the father the honor he deserves. Second, it deepens and strengthens relationships between parent and child, as you talk openly about this very personal issue. And third, O young ones, your parents aren't perfect, but they've got some great advice. They've been through this. While you may feel like you know way more about this situation, take a humility pill and realize that you've got a lot to learn. Besides, you're probably not quite in your right mind as there is some amazing person interested in you. Just sayin'.

        And the best part about giving your parents authority in your relationship is that they just might hand it back. Say hello to the power of trust. This has been one of the biggest blessings in my own courtship. My man and I have been given a lot of trust in some areas, and as a result, we have an even greater desire to prove trustworthy! There is an incredible empowerment that comes with being trusted, and it is a great maturity-builder for young adults who may or may not deserve it, but will strive to earn it.

        How do some go overboard with this? By making the rules too strict. By closing the gate too tight. By not trusting the couple enough, so that they jump over the gate, because they felt it would never open. Enough said.

        Also,  it is difficult to say what the level of authority a father should have on rejecting a suitor. This is one I can't say a black and white answer on, because the situation is always different.

        However, in almost every situation I can say that is very important to give the couple time alone. I used to think in courtship, there was always someone right there, watching and listening. Wow. What a way to develop a relationship. In all seriousness, third wheels are great – but to have a truly real and deep relationship, some things must be between 2 people only, and not shared with the parents or anyone else. That is the nature of relationships, and especially one as intimate as this one is meant to become.

      ...Please forgive me, I'm going to say just a little bit more about rules (even though I said "Enough said.") Don't misunderstand me - rules are wonderful things. They can often be legalistic or too harsh, but in general they are great. My whole life, we always had the rule: "No riding in the car alone with a guy." Even when neither of us were remotely interested in each other and it was just for convenience - it didn't matter. We had a rule, and we kept it. Did this get annoying sometimes? Yes. Did it hurt me? No. Really, it's okay to put up with rules that don't always make sense. Better to be safe than sorry.

        So those are the 3 principles that I believe make courtship different from dating. Before I'm finished though, I must state something rather important. And that is this: dating can be God-glorifying.

        This should be obvious, but to those in my circle, it's not. People, listen: Dating couples actually aren't stupid. (Gasp!) They oftentimes date with purpose, and in some form or other, value purity. It's true. And on the other hand, some don't. Those types are so scandalous that we decide all dating is like that and therefore “bad.” It is unfortunately common to find pro-courtship-ers making generalizations about daters, because the large percentage of them are all one way. Check out this quote from Stacey McDonald.

        “Dating is random, while courtship is deliberate; in dating, the goal is romance, while with courtship, the goal is marriage; dating leaves the couple unprotected, while courtship protects the young couple; dating is an unnatural setting of perpetual recreation, but courtship creates a natural setting of real life and family...”

        Do you see the stereotyping? Courting couples can be very unprotected if they make unwise choices, while dating couples can choose to put up boundaries for themselves. It's about the principles, not the name. Let me say it again. It is the principles within the relationship that determine whether it glorifies God or not. Dating can be totally fine.

        And what do I mean by “dating?” Going on dates. Spending time one-on-one developing a deeper relationship. Doing fun things together. Doing hard things together. Dating doesn't have to equal fornication and broken hearts. Just as courtship doesn't have to equal purity and protection. Whichever way you go, if you make the Bible the core of your relationship's principles, you're good to go. It's okay to do things different than the next guy. It really is.

        Thanks for reading. Sorry this ended up so long, but hopefully it's been somewhat helpful. Go date/court to the glory of God!

The Close of a Year

I've been wanting to post about 2012 for a while now... but when somehow the entire poem I put my heart into vanished from the blogger drafts, I sort of gave up.

So I don't have a lovely original poem for you about this incredible and terrifying past year. Sorry. Instead, with my vanity rather smushed, I offer you the words of another instead. (Honestly I think they apply to my year almost better than anything I could've written!)

These words are from a song titled "The Beauty and the Tragedy" by David Hodges.

"For I am finding out that love
Will kill and save me
Taking the dreams that made me up
And tearing them away.
But the same love will take this heart
That's barely breathing
And fill it with hope beyond the stars..."

Whose love is this? God's. And yet is has a sort of double meaning. I recall writing in my journal, shortly after Josh died, " I didn't know it hurt so bad to love." The strong, deep love of a close friendship killed me, in a way. Because God took my dreams and literally tore them away.

But the story doesn't end there. My merciful Creator took my barely breathing heart... And filled it with hope. Many different kinds of hope - the grandest of which had already been mine from before my birth. The hope of an eternity with my Love, my Lord.

And so God wounded to heal. He brought me low to show me just how much I truly needed him... And then brought beautiful, glorious, painful Healing.

"Come, let us return to the Lord;
For he has torn us, that he may heal us;
He has struck us down, and he will bind us up." (Hosea 6:1)

"For he wounds, but he binds up; 
He shatters, but his hands heal." (Job 5:18)

So that was my year! Oh, and on top of that my only sister got married...

Needless to say, 2012 was the biggest year of my life. Also the most painful, and somehow still the most wonderful. I grew up. The Lord changed me greatly. Now I greet 2013, a woman: weaker in myself, yet ultimately stronger; more vulnerable, more mature, and a little wiser, thanks to His grace. (And much more emotional!)

Hello, new year. Ariel is ready for you. She has a King on her side who can handle anything you throw at her. So bring it on!

Seeing the Face of GOD

(as you read this, play this song.)


Ever thought about it? Not much? Yeah, me neither.

Funny.

There is basically nothing better. Everything beautiful that we see, whether it be a brilliant red rose, a pair of piercing eyes, a snow-capped mountain or a intricately-carved cathedral ... it's not even worth comparing. Shouldn't we at least be excited about it? Ponder it once or twice a week, at least? It it a lack of imagination? Why don't we desire it? Frankly, what on earth is our problem?!

I think we'd like to say it's because we can't imagine it. At first thought, it sounds perfectly true - "I have no idea what God's face would look like!"

Tell me. Have you never seen anything truly beautiful? Never looked up at the sky when it holds a full moon, watched a sunset from your roof, seen the foaming ocean, or beheld deep love in someone's eyes? The world is pulsing with beauty. Every single one of those things is like a little bit of God. What if we could combine all the gorgeous things we could think of into one single intensely beautiful thing? It would be unbelievably stunning. We'd probably hardly be able to look at it. The face of the one who created beauty itself will be a thousand times more breath-taking. In fact I think I'd drop dead right then and there from sheer awe. It's not wonder God says that no one can see him and live.

So then, perhaps it is possible to imagine it, albeit to a very small extent. I'm going to challenge myself to this, and you as well: the next time you see something gorgeous, stop and think, "Hey ... someday I'm going to behold the face of God, and it is going to be like this, only more incredible."

You know, Faces are one of the most beautiful things on earth. Especially the eyes. It's what we think at the first thought of a person. The face. So how about God's face? The most intimate, emotional, personal part of him... ah, I'm blowing my mind.

But I'm not done yet. You know, sights are beautiful, but what about emotions, music, or even sensations? Yeah, seeing something mind-blowing would be awesome, but what about the other senses? Why should seeing something be the biggest bang?

Well God is the creator of all those other senses, isn't he? God is not just a sight. In fact, that's all we don't do here on Earth - see him. We can hear him in a beautiful symphony, we feel him in a hug. I've posted about this before, but when I get a strong emotion, it's one of the closet things to describing God for me. He is much more than sight. On Earth, things are disconnected. A sunset has no music. A feeling has no sight. A touch has no sound. But in Heaven? I bet it's all packaged together.

So let's add to our picture. Let's add the sound of thunderous fireworks echoing off surrounding mountains, and a beautiful, soaring voice singing. The roar of the ocean. The rich softness of a cello. A chorus of birds. The majesty of Zimmer's "Run Free."

Now the touch. A soft, fuzzy blanket. The exhilarating shock of falling into cold water. A lover's gentle caress. Sand between your fingers. Wind in your hair.

How about taste and smell? I'm pretty sure seeing the face of God has never been likened to enjoying a fresh, hot piece of pizza ... but that's a pleasurable sensation! Or a cold drink running down your throat. How about the smell of lilacs, or of rain?

And now emotions. The quiet and effortlessly warm feeling of joy and the flying, spinning feeling of bliss. Heart-pounding adrenaline. The wild, fresh, reckless feeling of standing on a roof in a storm.

Are you looking forward to seeing the face of God yet?

In 1 Timothy it says God"dwells in unapproachable light, whom no one has seen or can see." Wow. Okay, I have to admit that gets me excited. Can't you just imagine that swirling, exploding, pulsating, cacophonous flow of light emanating from and encompassing Him? Incandescent, blinding, searing. Nothing less will do, for the King of kings. People, this is huge. This is the experience to top all others. In the words of Randy Alcorn, not only will we see his face and live...

We will likely wonder if we ever lived before we saw his face.

Flying in the Wind

At the top of the cliff I was given a mission: Get to the bottom.

So here I am, very carefully climbing down on a nice safe rope, when God said something to me.

"Hey, Ariel. If you let go of that rope, you're going to get to the bottom a lot faster."

I pause. I blink. "Uhh ... that sounds kinda dangerous."

"Only if you were by yourself. You're not."

I feel my hand tightening around my rope. "But, God, that would mean I would be falling. Like, free falling. With no rope. That's scary."

"I know."

"Um, I don't know what's at the bottom."

"I do."

Well, yeah. But that doesn't mean I'm going to like what it is.

God's voice again. "Can you trust me?"

Can I?

Suddenly the rope is pulled away. I start falling, terrified. I reach out toward the rope, clutching desperately.

"Lord! My rope! Don't you know I need that?" I've never lived without my rope. He can't take it away now! I'm falling! Where is God?

...Oh. He's the one who took the rope away. Helplessness overwhelms me. I begin to get mad. How could He do this without telling me? I don't know how to live without it - I'm completely ... completely...

OUT OF CONTROL.

I cry and scream, bouncing between fear and anger. Soon I am completely exhausted. The rope is always too far away, no matter how I reach for it. I'm still falling, falling, falling. For a moment I turn silent, panting, staring at the rope hopelessly.

I hear something. What is that...? I realize it is a voice. A still, small Voice. He was there the whole time, wasn't he? I just couldn't hear Him over my own panicked cries.

And so I listen. God speaks to me, encourages me, tells me He loves me, tells me this is His plan. Every once in a while fear rises in my chest and I once again clutch at the rope. But it's so far away now it's pointless. An idea begins to form in my mind. (At least it seemed that I formed it; most likely it was planted here...)

Slowly, hesitantly, I look up. The sight takes my breath away. Clouds shift and smear across the sky in beautiful patterns, trying to hide a stunning blue. The sun shines bright - suddenly I can feel it on my skin. Warm, beautiful.

Something inside me seems to come alive. I close my eyes and for the first time, I smile. Wow. This is amazing. I can feel the air rushing around me, cold and magnificent. The rush of wind in my ears. Suddenly I feel reckless, daring. I'm falling. I'm actually free falling! What an exhilarating feeling this is!

I hear a soft laugh; it's my God. "You're enjoying it, aren't you?"

My heart is beating fast and energetically. "Yes," I say, in awe. "I am. I can't believe I am."

The rope doesn't matter. I don't even look for it. I simply enjoy the wild feeling of falling - but no. It's not falling. It's flying.

Flying in the wind!

More questions

"Why is it so cold when the sun is out?"

What a profound statement. I made it myself. I know, I know, I'm just so amazing. Okay, humorless joking aside, let me tell you about this.

I went to the park. It was somewhat cloudy but there was sunshine. And yet it was freezing cold. I asked that question aloud, to no one in particular. Then its profundity and impact hit me like a ice cube down my back. (Sorry, that was a ridiculous analogy but I couldn't think of anything better.)

Why does life hurt so much when God is in control and I know that? Why do I feel pain so often when God is by my side? I should be totally happy right now, because I've been redeemed, because God is on the throne, because He's there for me and loves me and etc. and the list goes on. It doesn't make any sense, does it?

The sun is out, but somehow it's still really, really cold. Just another oddity of life.
Huh - note something interesting. It didn't make me feel any warmer to know that if the sun were not there, I would be frozen and completely dead right now, as would everything else. I'll let you fill in that analogy.

Thanks for reading.

The Ocean's Awe

Ah, the ocean.

What makes it so magical? So humbling? So relaxing? I've never likened the ocean to Christmas before, but my question is the same for both of them:
Why do they give us the moods they do?

Maybe the ocean doesn't give you a mood, or a feeling. But boy does it give me one. This past Sunday our family drove down to see my grandparents in California. On the way we stopped by the ocean to take ten minutes rest or so. As soon as I got out I was hit with a strange feeling. Like hidden exhilaration - it was so grand that it excited me, but so big that it quieted me. What could I be compared to such a thing as that expanse of sky and water before me?

I took my shoes off. The sand was warm and felt like a carpet beneath my feet. That is, until I dug my toes in. Ooooh. Don't we all know that feeling? I, for one, hadn't felt it for some years. It was simply delicious.

Then I looked up. The wind was strong, blowing my hair around my face. Looking straight out at the water, I couldn't see the ends of it to my right or left. It was that big. Wow.
It was so powerful, so awe-inspiring that it filled me with comfort. The huge, wide sky above me, flawlessly blue... the chilly water tickling my feet... the beautiful expanse of endless water in front of me... It's hard to describe why some things just connect us to God. Perhaps it is because the ocean itself is a lover's gift. To: Ariel. From: God.

There was the sense of smallness, against the vastness of this gift. Then there was the sense of gratitude, that I should be here, looking at, breathing in, and digging my toes into this gift. And there was the sense of awe, that God, who locked these "proud waves" into place, was incalculably greater than this ocean that I could not even the measure without turning my head. Yes, God is BIG.

And I am small. But I am loved. I don't want to repeat myself from my last post, but it does not cease to amaze me. Why should He have chosen me? Just another girl walking His shores, just another pair of feet in His waters, just another human in His world....

God is BIG

I usually don't like my views about God to be challenged. No, let me rephrase that; I just plain don't like my views about God to be challenged. I want to think that I know God. That I have it down, at least as much as I can, being a puny human. However... well, my view of God has been challenged.

You know the story I'm sure. When we were at the river, in the initial panic-stricken minutes, I kept saying to my friend, "It's okay - God made the river, he's in control of it; He has Josh in his hand." As the day wore on though, I begin to grapple with the idea that maybe God wouldn't actually rescue Josh. I admit, it didn't seem to fit with my perspective of God. After all, God has always blessed me immensely - like, my whole life practically. His plan seemed to always coincided with my plan - and when it didn't, it turned out better. So I learned to trust him. Even when painful things happened (like, my kneecap problem) I knew God would bring me through because he always did.

So now, here I am, sitting by this rushing river, waiting and waiting and realizing that it's probably too late - that the person who understood me best in the whole world is most likely not in the world anymore. This didn't really reconcile with "my" God. My God doesn't do this to me. I mean, he just doesn't.

But he did.

So that left me in a quandary. The first week, I felt distant from God. I tried to pray, but it didn't feel right. God was huge, hard, and suddenly seemed disinterested in me. All around I saw evidences of how Josh's life was impacting people, how his death was furthering the kingdom of God... but my little heart screamed, "But what about ME?!"

Sure, I knew the universe didn't revolve around me. I knew that God's kingdom obviously mattered more than my happiness. But I couldn't help the feeling that God's big plan for his work through Josh's death overlooked me. Yes, poor little Ariel's world will crumble around her, but oh well - Josh's death is blessing people all over the world.

You must be cringing at my selfishness by now. It is hard to just tell you this, but I want to be completely honest. This is how I felt, and still, once in a while, feel. What I discovered was that I knew, deep inside me, that Josh's death would bless me, too. God has not overlooked me because I'm too insignificant compared to the world (even though I am) - he has plans for me that are better than I have planned for myself.

This whole thing has made God so much bigger than I thought of him before. No more does his plan always make me happy. Thank goodness! What a small view I had of him; I am ashamed. One of the incredible things about God is that he is so, so big... and yet cares for every single individual. Yes, that includes me. Wow. That amazes me.

So this has been my experience. God cares so intimately for me. Probably my favorite psalm ever, Psalm 139, speaks about God being the ultimate being who understands us. Putting this new concept of how big God is with how well he knows and cares for me simply baffles me. It is beyond words. This last December I was expounding on it in my journal. It's a little messily written, but here it is.

"Psalm 139!!!!!!!!! Officially my favorite psalm. EVER. It's the most comforting psalm. Not comforting as in gives me happy safe fuzzy feelings. Comforting as in, the world can be falling apart, but even if I suffer Jesus has me in complete control in his loving, powerful hands. God is love and justice. Not just a happy everything-goes-right God and not just a judgment-on-all God. No, either of those would be weak. The world makes him out to be the sicky sweet god. That bothers me.

Anyhow, listen to the word of the Lord. Or rather, the words I want to say.

"O Lord, you have searched me and known me!" This first sentence just caught me. He has searched me? He HAS known me. Meaning, when I was a little snotty kid, he knew me. Just let that sink in.

 "You discern my thoughts from afar. You search out my path and my lying down and are acquainted with all my ways. Even before a word is on my tongue, behold, O Lord, you know it altogether." Okay, so I know he knows my thoughts. Obvious, right? But think, I say! All my ways. He's like, the ultimate person who really can predict me. Even if he didn't know the future, he could totally take the words out of my mouth because he knows me inside and out. He knows how I react to situations, what I'm prone to do. Nothing I can do will ever be a suprise to him. Amazing. I'm wrapped in a cloud of deep, deep comfort. 

The psalm goes on to describe all these far-reaching places, heaven, the sea, Sheol even - everywhere. He IS everywhere. And if you think about it... that means many things. When I'm struggling with ANYTHING, he is there. He totally understands. "Such knowledge is too wonderful for me." How true!!

 Then he talks about my inward parts, in my mother's womb. "In your book were written, every one of them, the days that were formed for me, when as yet there was none of them." Wow. Okay, just wow. Every single day is "written" - he knows all about. He knew I'd be sitting here in the Goodrich's living room by the stove, on my laptop, writing this. He knew that while Esther stood before the king. That boggles my mind. Boggles. Just crazy. He ends the section about knowing by saying "I awake, and I am still with you."

That makes me want to cry!

I awake and I am still with God. Still! He is so, so, so, present. So RIGHT THERE. So ... inside me! He's never ever going to be even just a hand's reach away. I cannot be separated from him. PRAISE THE LORD!!!!! I can't say it enough. Crazy. Crazy."
 

And last but not least, a picture. Putting those beautiful, bright red roses there was such a comfort. It makes it look loved. As it is.

Why

One Word
a poem by Ariel J
5.21.12

I ask one word
Why

Why do we train
Why do we learn and earn
Why do we plan and hope and dream

Why
    when we come to the point in time
    where something so unthinkable has happened
    that it make us wonder why we did these things

Why –
I will tell you

We assume
Oh, we assume so much
We assume that things will go on
We look at the past
    and expect the future to reflect it
    because so often it does
And so we plan
So we train and earn and plan and dream
We do what seems best
    as if life will continue the way we think it will
    the way it always has
    the way we want it to
    the way it should
    – should according to our hearts

And then we are mocked
    ripped apart
    broken
    buried
The future does not reflect the past
    not even a bit
    but muddies even our dimmest reflection
Life does not continue the way we think it will
    but the way it has not been
    the way we don't want it to
    the way it shouldn't
    – shouldn't according to our hearts

Then we wonder why we trained
    and earned and planned and dreamed
    when diligent training is mocked
    and protected earnings ripped apart
    and anticipated plans broken
    and precious dreams buried

That is the point in time that makes us wonder
    why

And next we wonder
    if we were wrong to assume
Was it wrong to think life would go on the way it always has been
Was it useless to train and earn and plan and dream

I believe the answer is
No

It was not wrong
It was what we thought was best
It was how we knew to live
It was how God made us
Because often
    our training is not useless
    and our earnings turns for good
    and our plans finally happen
    and our dreams come true

But not always
Which is why we must assume
    but must also be careful
To never take for granted
    too much
To know that whatever we train and earn and plan and dream
    is unto the Lord
    and whatever he decides to do with it
    is good

And so we live on
Hurt but not fatally
Bleeding but not dead
    just barely
We live on
    with greater knowledge of pain
    and grace
We live on
    with new appreciation
    and new emptiness
    and new joy
    and a new self
We live on
    perhaps a little more careful and cautious
    in our training and earning and planning and dreaming
    but still doing them all the same
    because that is how we are made

Time to time we ask
Why
And the response is
I am God
    I do what I will
He does not answer
He does not need to
For he is indeed
    God

So we live on
    and one day
    die
And coming into eternity
    and great
    beautiful
    glorious
    joy –
    yes, the face of God
    we finally see why he made us
    to assume
We finally see why
    we trained and earned and planned and dreamed
    when it seemed to be mocked
    ripped apart
    broken and buried
We see that it was not useless
It was simply that part of the story
    that's twist is revealed in a later chapter

And we stop asking
Why
Rather our one word
    is turned to two

Thank you

Waiting

Josh, my life is a writhing stew of contradictions right now.

I know everything is going to be fine – I feel like everything is never going to fine again. The difference? Know vs. feel. I know God is blessing me; I feel God is hurting me. I know you weren't meant to live past 19; I feel you were meant to live to 100. I know you're happy and I'd never take you away from seeing the face of God; I feel that I would, in an instant, if I could. I know I have a purpose; I feel like nothing matters anymore.

I've been talking to God about all this. I'm waiting for him, waiting for him to act. Waiting for him to change me. Waiting for this to pass. I'm waiting for real life, for real happiness, for real purpose to come again. I don't know how long I'll have to wait. All I know is there's a reason I didn't fall. Psalm 56, the last verse, says “For you have delivered my soul from death, yes, my feet from falling, that I may walk before God in the light of life.” My work isn't finished, so I've got to get up and get to it. It's just so hard to do it without you, Josh.

I know God was right to take you. I know it was right, in my head. My heart is still trying to catch up. It means one thing to say whatever God does is right when you live a life like mine on May 4, but when you live it on May 5, it's a much different thing.

Lord, help me. I stand now only because of You.

Josh

"I love you

Not only for what you are,

But for what I am

When I am with you.

I love you,

Not only for what

You have made of yourself,

But for what

You are making of me.

I love you

For the part of me

That you bring out;

I love you

For putting your hand

Into my heaped-up heart

And passing over

All the foolish, weak things

That you can't help

Dimly seeing there,

And for drawing out

Into the light

All the beautiful belongings

That no one else had looked

Quite far enough to find.

I love you because you

Are helping me to make

Of the lumber of my life

Not a tavern

But a temple.

Out of the works

Of my every day

Not a reproach

But a song.

I love you

Because you have done

More than any creed

Could have done

To make me good.

And more than any fate

Could have done

To make me happy.

You have done it

Without a touch,

Without a word,

Without a sign.

You have done it

By being yourself.

Perhaps that is what

Being a friend means,

After all."

-- by Roy Croft

Oh, Josh. You impacted my life more than I can say. Thank you. 

I will say more when I am able. But words are so inadequate. 

You will always be Ua to me.

See you in Heaven. I'm looking forward to talking theology with you again and I'm so jealous that you'll probably have most of Free-will figured out by the time I get there. 

As you always said:

 "Later!"

--AO

What's so great about theater?

(That free will post is still in the works. It's going to be a bit longer until I finish it. Let me tell you, that's one tough topic to cover!)


A friend recently told me, "I wish I could understand how stage performance makes you feel." Well, I just can't resist a challenge like that.


So, what's so great about theater? Well, let me tell you. (Oh, and I do warn you - this is rather long.) 


I arrive at the theater, pumped, eager. Greet people I've grown to care about, people I didn't know (or hardly) at the beginning. Marvel at the fact. Run into the dressing room. Smother my face with makeup, while mentally going through my props and costumes to make sure I haven't forgotten anything. Talk with the other actresses, in a light, hyper kind of way. Figure out the hard way that this is not the time to debate over free will - my mind is in a tizzy.

Anticipation. It covers all other emotions.

I throw on my 18th century underclothes and run into the house.* Get a small chill, seeing the big place full of empty rows of chairs. Just an hour from now they'll be filled with people. Get my mic taped on my face in four different places, do a quick test. Run to another room to warm up. Feel the energy vibrate through the room as all the actors sing through scales. All focusing their minds. All feeling it - the anticipation. All struggling to leave the problems and stresses of their normal lives behind, determined to bring a magical show to an eager audience. The expectation is there. The thrill is the challenge to fulfill it.

I make my way to the dressing room to get the rest of my costume on. Spray static guard into my hair, make sure my fake eyelashes are tightly glued. Give a few hugs. Meet in the hallway for a quick prayer. Everyone is really energized by this time. But this is the most important part of the night. We thank God for the opportunity, for the audience, pray that all would go well and be to His glory. "Amen." We part.

I go to stage right and fist-bump the actor who plays my father, waiting there. We smile as the lights go down and we're in complete darkness. This is when my heart gets ready to fly. I can hear the murmur of the crowd; I try to imagine how big it is. Then they hush - I stand up, too excited to sit. The announcer begins. His three minute speech seems to take ages. I take the opportunity to stretch and jump in the dark, getting ready for the dancing. I tone the announcer's voice out and send up my own, final prayer to the One audience that counts. And then - "Enjoy the production of ... Cinderella!" The audience claps, and the stage behind the curtain lights up. Excitement reigns. I can't not smile.

Anticipation. The moment has come. With a loud opening chord, the orchestra breaks the silence and the curtain parts. It has begun. I can't wait to get onto that stage.

After the first scene I have a little quick-change. I fly into the dressing room to do it, then rush back out, grab my props from the stage-hand and calmly walk out. "Cinderella!" My stepmother calls, and I run up to the front of the stage. I can barely see how full the audience is, but I try to find out anyway. Then my step-family leaves, and I am in the spotlight. There's dozens of other people onstage, but they are frozen and I know that almost every audience eye is looking at me. The piano starts tinkling and I know I have four measures till I sing. One, two... excitement builds higher and higher in me. The moment has come. I take in a deep breath and begin my song. Vibrato, I'm focusing on it, and making sure I look happy enough. I look out at the blackness that the audience is, barely able to make out peoples' heads. As I sing about waiting for my true love, I stare out at the red exit sign in the back of the house, hoping passion is flowing out of me, hoping I'm drawing in the audience, hoping I'm as in-tune as I sound. Then comes the best part - the orchestra swells as the strings join in, filling up something inside of me, and I crescendo with them, giving the note all I have.

Then it's over, and I feel a little less adrenaline flowing through me. But I was never nervous - no, never. I've done these lines too many times to be nervous. No, it isn't even that... I'm just too happy to be nervous. This stage, these lines, this costume is like my home. And who's nervous at home?

You know, a million things race through actors' minds while they're saying their lines. I can attest to that. My face is totally in character, but as the line flows out of my mouth out of habit, I'm thinking "whoops, I was too far downstage, now the hatbox tipped. I hope it's okay. He's doing good tonight. Oh hooray, the audience laughed at that line! Nuts, I said that one weirdly." When I'm singing my solo in the next scene, I'm thinking of the poor mouse who's ears fell off when he ran in, or how fast the conductor started it, or how I forgot the leave the fan on the table, so I can't use it during the song. Oh well - I improvise, and the audience will never know. The song ends and I, out of breath, wait for the lights to dim. I can feel the heat leave me as the spotlight dies, and I hurry off stage, hoping I don't trip on any set pieces in the dark.

The crying scene is next. I quick-change into my dress and get there just in time. This time I know I have to focus on giving an moving emotional performance, so I struggle to not think about how much the audience laughed at the stepsisters, or whether my hair is sticking up. The stepmother rips my dress sleeve, and I struggle not to smile with joy when the audience rewards us with a loud gasp. I need to look heart-broken. In order to make up for my near smile, I give the next line with extra emotion, almost crying. When the curtain closes behind me, I barely remember it is only me, with nothing but a red curtain behind me - it is up to me to bring tears to people's eyes. I muster all the strength I can manage to finally break down in "tears" and fall to my knees. I don't have time to think how strange it is that I am doing this in front of all these people who are mostly completely strangers - and when I do, it almost makes me laugh it seems so unreal. Quickly I focus back on the task at hand.

The rest of the first act passes too quickly, and soon intermission is over. As I stand waiting to come on, behind the audience seats, beneath those red exit signs, I think once again how beautiful the scene looks - a gorgeous palace backdrop behind rows of elegantly dressed (and wigged!) men and women, dancing away to the swell of the music. The whole scene is lit warmly in yellows and pinks. Then the moment comes for me to enter the ball. I stand on the stairs between two columns of audience seats and wait for the heat of the spotlight.

Then it comes from the right, blinding my right eye. I can see heads turning toward me, hear little girls' whispered exclamations, feel the eyes of everyone on me. But I can't look at any of them. I stand tall, pretending a string is pulling me upwards. Then I begin to walk, slowly, making sure not to trip as I can't look down. When the prince sweeps me into the waltz, I get to relax a little, now focusing on letting him lead the dance. When the other couples join in to swirl around us, I take a moment to enjoy it - the blur of dancing people, golden set, dark audience, dancing people, golden set - rushing by in a dizzying circle. Then, the ending pose, and I try not to breathe too hard.

It's time for the romantic scene. I take advantage of the prince's proposal song to slow my breath and get ready for my own part in the song. I concentrate on the orchestra which I have been taking for granted all evening - it sounds beautiful. I see sweat on the prince's face, but he can't possibly be as sweaty as I am. But no time to think about that - I must focus all my energy on looking utterly in love. I stare in the prince's eyes and pour out my voice - and then it's midnight. Secretly glad to finally get out of this wig and heavy dress, I pretend to be horrified as I run from the ballroom... and into the dressing room. Before two minutes have passed I'm back in my rags, with the help of my incredible mother and friends. I see my water bottle and realize how thirsty I am; I have enough time to swallow several gulps before running back onstage. As I wait for the drop to rise in front of me, I take a moment to relax a little and really "live" the moment.

Next thing I know I'm singing and dancing again with my stepsisters. That is, until my stepmother decides that's enough of that and gives me a vicious rebuke. It's one of my favorite parts, looking at her intense face as she tells me I'm a little fool, and then to once again be solely responsible for conveying my emotion to the audience, without the help of words. As I sing the last note, I savor it, knowing it's my last song of the night. I have just two more short scenes left.

When I finally reveal myself to the prince and he takes the glass slipper to try it on, I watch intently, hoping it will slip on easily. It does and to my joy the audience claps. I smile brilliantly as he carries me off, but all I'm thinking about is my quick-change. As soon as the light goes out we run down the hall. A minute later we regally walk back onstage, in wedding attire. This scene is bittersweet - it's the last, and I know the show is almost over, yet I'm determined to enjoy every last minute. And then ... the music cuts off and confetti bursts from all around. My heart is bursting as well, and as the carriage brings me and the prince on for the bow - and the audience roars - my heart takes wings. I am filled with gratitude. There is nothing quite as satisfying as the thundering sound of a pleased audience. It's not the praise itself - it is the fact that I have won the challenge, that I was part of fulfilling the expectation. It is the fact that I have just brought joy to hundreds of people. That I have brought joy to my King. There is no feeling quite like that.

Then the curtain closes. I feel the strange mixture of intense happiness after a good show, and sadness that the show is over and I can feel the adrenaline dying. I accept many a hug and compliment - so many compliments that they all meld in my mind. It's numbing, really. I just spent the last two hours in bliss - and yet have also pleased those who watched me! God created humans in wondrous ways. The very people who admire what I have just done are the ones who can do all sorts of things I could never excel at. Thus, there is no reason to be boastful in the praise. Just to smile and say "thank you" ... it will suffice. I only hope my smile shows how radiant I feel inside.

One of the things that makes live musical theater so glorious is the fact that it isn't all rainbows and sunshine. It's months of work - of dancing until feet ached, and acting with imaginary props, of trying to give all that emotion when there is no crowd to stir up the adrenaline, of going over the same song phrases again and again and again. It's the glamor and the grime. There's the nights of rehearsals where everyone is tired, the times when someone's feelings get hurt, the 11:30pm rehearsal end times. There's the fake eyelashes to peel off and the mic-tape to forcefully rip off. There sweaty costumes, stinky feet, hot lights... and the glory of never letting the audience know any of it.

After all, it is in fact live. You never know what can happen - it's a constant risk that something will go wrong... and having to cover up for it as if it never happened. Although we all hope nothing will go wrong, we always laugh about it afterward. Every show is different. Every single moment is a unique experience. And I love it all.

As an acquaintance nicely said, "Theater is wonderful because you're being someone else while totally being yourself." And she's right. Although the emotions and words I said onstage weren't really mine, they were - in a funny sort of way. Because no one could have done that performance as Cinderella exactly like me. I brought the character to life in my own way, and - here is the miracle that God is so good to have let me experience - I can pour my own passion into those very words, songs, and emotions that are not mine. Isn't that incredible? Somehow, God made it so that I can take all my excitement, happiness, and adrenaline and use it to bring soul and life to the character. There's really no way to fully explain it. It is indeed a miracle.

So how does all this bring me so much joy? Because it is the outpouring of myself. Every note, every word, every glance is given my everything. I am a creature of passion. I long to find a way to release it, to give it to others, to present it before the Lord. I have yet to find something that is a better instrument of pouring out myself and giving as much "Ariel" ... as this. Ironically, that very friend who didn't understand how it felt summed it up perfectly by saying, "I have never seen you be more fully you." 

So that's what's so great about it.

*"the house" is the theater name for the area where the audience sits
photo credit: J.S. Eddy Imagery