Whose Standards?

Ahhhh... what better thing to do on a Sunday afternoon than slip into a sweatshirt, jeans and fuzzy socks and write about living up to other people's standards?

So that's what I'm doing. Naturally.

I bring up this topic because of the musical I'm in. I could talk a lot about what it's like being the lead role ... how incredible it is, how hard it is, how different an experience it is, how fun it is - but I've been really struggling with something in particular that this role brings up. Let me explain.

As most of you probably know, Cinderella is a romantic fairy tale. While the version we're doing has a modern spin on it, the story remains the same: poor girl wants to go to the ball, her family mocks her, she meets a magical old lady and gets a makeover, she goes to the ball and falls in love with the Prince and, after some shoe-trying-on, lives happily ever after. So ... did you notice that bit there, falls in love with the Prince? Well it just so happens that the scriptwriter decided to spoil a lovely scene in the moonlit garden by sticking a kiss in the middle of it. Very sad, yes, I know.

Ha! Did you notice what I just did? Hmmmm? Bet you didn't. I just disagreed with some one else's standards. Sorry, I'm going about this talk in a very confusing manner, but track with me. I plainly stated that I thought kissing onstage was not good, and said the writer "spoiled the scene" by including one. Wasn't that judgmental of me? Well, maybe, but I only stated that my opinions differ. The writer (why don't I just go look up his name?) Tom Briggs thought the kiss fit into the scene (his opinion) so he wrote it in. So tell me, was it okay for me to disagree with him? Yes, it was.

So keep that in mind as I jump back off my rabbit trail. At the audition, I told the director that I would not be kissing anyone onstage and that was that. But there was, as there often is, a grey area. What exactly does a fake kiss entail? After all, I didn't say I wouldn't hug anyone onstage... What about looking like I'm kissing someone even though I'm not? When is a fake kiss to real? Where to draw the line?

Well, after much thought and consulting God, I drew my line. I set my standard. If you come to the PAC and see Cinderella, at some point you will see me and the Prince embrace and put our heads next to each other. It's very sneakily done to look like a kiss. Being able to honestly say I believe it is right and pure to do this in this circumstance is all well and fine - but here's where my problem comes in. I'm self-conscious.

 I care too much about what people think of me. And I know that many, if not most, of my friends do not have this same standard. While a few of them would actually kiss onstage, I'm not talking about them. I'm talking about the friends who wouldn't do a fake kiss onstage. Who wouldn't do a romantic role at all. I love these people, and I want them to think well of me. So how can I get up onstage and do something that I know they don't think is right?

Here's where our Tom Briggs example comes into play. I disagreed with his standards, right? But if Tom were my friend (just for the record, I have no idea who this guy is), and if I knew he were a really great person, I wouldn't necessarily think less of him for thinking it's okay to kiss onstage. I might try to convince him otherwise, but he'd still be my friend ... even if I didn't agree with his standards.

So basically this is me being vain. Caring too much about people's view of me. It's vain of me to feel "guilty" that I'm not living up to my friends' standards. When I talked with my dad about this, he asked me what guilt was. "Well, you're only guilty when you sin against God" - and I realized that I couldn't feel guilty breaking a human's standards. (Unless they were indirectly God's standards ... for instance if they were standards my parents had set for me. Rabbit trail.)

So to tie up this long post, I just need to stop being self-conscious. That's that. Thanks for reading.

If you're single...

on Valentines day........

Congratulations. You're part of the small percentage of the world who still has their heads on their shoulders. Rejoice in your untwitterpatedness.

And go write a love song.

Women taking over the world? No, thanks.

Okay, people. I've been getting riled up. About this song. Ever heard of it? It's called "Anthem," by the band Superchick. I'd heard of them, but never listened to their music. I just didn't like it. Oh, and I thought they were a Christian band... then I heard this song. Actually I didn't listen to it (undoubtedly NOT my style) but I read the lyrics. Here's the chorus.

"We are fire inside

We are lipstick and cleats

We are not going home

And we are playin' for keeps

We are girls who skin knees

We are concrete and grace

We are not what you think

Can't keep us in our place."

So I'm reading this going, "...what? We're not what you think? Seriously? What do they think people think of girls?" But here's the worst:

"There are trophies to win

Instead of being one of yours."

Okay. That officially made me need to write a blogpost about it. Especially when I saw this comment.

" yeah girls come on! get ya skate boards and guitars and lets take over the world!! "

Okay wait a minute. People, what is this about? Girls taking over the world? I'm sorry, this is just disturbing me. Especially because basically every comment was the same. "I love this song, it's so great telling girls to stand up for themselves, we really are people and we're brave!" What?!

Okay, so my first thought was, "Is this really a Christian band?" My second was, "Why do people think that our culture views women as less than?"

To quickly cover #1 thought:

I'm sure this band has some great songs and I'm not saying they can't encourage and impact people. God can work through anything and everything. But "Christian"?

Superchick's statement on bebo.com reads simply: "What started as a vision for a one-girl revolution turned into an army of non-conformists who believe in themselves and the ability to affect people's lives."  Mmhmm. So they believe in themselves... what about in Jesus? Oh yeah, that too, huh?

“It stands true to your traditional Superchick,” says Melissa (the lead vocalist). “We all stand together, embrace our beauty, encourage each other and feel good about it.”

Feel good about it. Sounds... self-help-y.

"This album is about empowerment and hope,” says (band member) Matt. “Don’t be afraid to cross the lines that people put up to limit you when you know you are better than that.”  It seems that they're quite about believing yourself, not about finding strength in God. This quote just bothers me because he says "you know you are better than that." No, sir, nobody is better than a very worthless, unregenerate sinner. That sounds harsh, but it's only true. Only in God are we anything good or can do anything worthwhile, and only by his Grace are we able. We're not "better than". We're worse than. Anyhow, that was kind of a tangent, sorry...

I searched their biography for Christ, God, and Jesus but there were no finds. The end.

So moving on to #2 thought, FEMINISM! Oh, feminism. It just really makes me mad.

I'll probably post about it more in the future, because there is much to say, so I'll try not to say too much. Basically, here's my take on the whole thing...

It seems there's a prevailing view, among young women especially, that women are... well, I'll let description in the most-watched video of that song "Anthem" say it.

"Women are constantly looked down upon by society, well, men in general. Women are looked at as weak, and not as good as men. This proves that wrong. Women are strong, powerful, and just as good as men. Women/Girls also need to realize that they are. They need to know that noone can tell them who they are or what they can and can't do. They are their own person...."

Wow. This is what I call... oi, what do I call it? Mixing truth with lies. It's an ancient tactic, goes back Eden. In one breath, someone will say truth and sneak a untruth in. So the whole thing sounds pretty much good. Yick!

Women are "just as good" as men. They are their own person.

BUT.

Women are not looked down upon by society. (And by society I mean American culture.) Am I missing something here? When I look around, when I listen to a song (speaking of which), when I watch a movie, I see men portrayed as dumb, weak and useless - and women portrayed as ingenious, strong and in control. I don't have to say anymore; it's so prevalent in culture.

But I will show you a picture.

After all, if women are taking over the world, why do we even need boys?

Sigh.

This, my friend, is how society looks at women. I wonder how we get this notion that women are somehow viewed as second-rate, weak, can't do anything. Where do people get it? Anyone? I actually am asking for reals... I don't know why people think that.

Can you just imagine if someone started selling a shirt that said "Girls are weak" or some such? No one would tolerate. And yet, as Columnist Jane Ganahl basically said, the T-shirts are perceived as harmless fun by children and sexism against women is a far more widespread and substantial problem in United States' society.

Wow. Is it really. Is it really?

To tie back to Superchick, one of the band member describes the band like this. "It was to share a message of hope for the hopeless, empowerment for the helpless, beauty to the ones who had long felt unbeautiful, grace for the broken and love for the one who felt unlovable." Good, wonderful goal. So the question is, who is the helpless who needs empowerment? Friends... it just isn't women.

To quote from an awesome book called It's (Not That) Complicated, "[Boys] start learning their lessons early on, too - that being masculine, responsible, and authoritative is a social offense; that their leadership is oppressive, their protection is insulting, their authority is tyranny, and their position as the head of the household is utterly illegitimate."

So, people. What shall we do about all this?

To make up ...

I realize it's been too long since my last post. My excuse? I actually have two. ;)

1. After years and years of having fun being chorus roles in musicals, God has seen fit to give me a huge gift: playing Cinderella in "Cinderella." I'm dreadfully excited and am planning to put my all into this. So far things are going very well, I'm awed at how God is strengthening my voice... my voice always, always became shaky or weak when I sang in front of a lot of people, but during the past 2 weeks it has somehow remained strong. Such a God thing. Anyhow this could be a post in itself, but it's not! Ahem.

2. I'm one of the editors for the feature-length film First Impressions, which is a time-consuming project.

Therefore, I have been busy. Also, I've been overthinking life, as I'm terribly prone to do, which wearies me emotionally and makes me just a tad stressed. I'll post about it sometime. For now, know that I have at least 4 posts planned... I just need to write them and make them look nice.

I figured out one of the reasons I haven't been blogging is because I've been journaling more than ever. If it means anything to anyone, I'm an INFP. Thus, I really wouldn't live without journaling, because that and talking are how I extravert my "processings." All to say that all the things I should be blogging about I just write in my journal instead because (selfishly) I don't think I have to time to make them look nice, and I just need to get them down on something. So yeah, I've been selfish.

So. Here's two random thoughts I've been processing lately. Happy birthday.

- I went to the mall with my mother a couple days ago. I hadn't been there in forever, and I was savoring that delicious feeling of walking into a store full of jewelry and hair accessories... you know, that joy that just makes you feel ... joyful? Yeah. Emotions are hard to explain. The point is, I am pretty positive that the male population cannot feel this shopping happiness. So as I'm trying on a dress, just for the fun of it since I know I'm never going to waste the money to buy it, I thought, "God, do you understand this funny feeling? I mean, of course you do, but ... you're male, aren't you?" It made me stop and think. God, experiencing the frilly shopping joy? But then again... he did create it, didn't he?

So then that got me thinking. Because God created male as well as female... I mean he must have saved some of himself to characterize the female, when he created Adam. Am I making any sense? Basically I guess I'm trying to say that God is more than just male, because he's not human. I'm not saying he genderless or anything... I mean, maybe he is - after all, he's God! He's a "god", not a man or woman. And yet I just said "he." Humph. Well, it was just one of those things we'll never quite understand until a couple million years into Heaven...

- I will tell about this experience in a later post, but I had a very intense sort of ... emotional (for lack of a better word) experience. I don't like to use the word emotional because it intimates uncontrollable feelings that are "less than" real life. I've always been one to criticize romance and frown upon how emotions (especially romance) are glorified in our culture. And yet, the other night I found I had to admit that emotions are created by God. Well, duh, but the point is, they've been tainted by the sin nature. Emotions themselves are not bad, but when they're allowed free reign they are destructive. Right? So in a perfect world, emotions would not have to be guarded (I'm thinking aloud here) because they could not lead astray. Perhaps.

Most people, it seems, don't think of Heaven as a place of high emotions. Maybe this is because they think that the changing of emotions, like happy to sad, are necessary to the thrill of emotions. But that's not true - the beauty in emotions is not in the fact that it's different - "Oh, I'm so awed by this feeling because it's different than the feeling I had at 2:30" - no, the beauty in emotions is inside the feeling itself. It's that ethereal, indescribable quality. It's what all those cheesy pop love songs try to describe. It's just beyond words, though.

 Anyhow, my point in this is that emotions are from God, and because they are so indescribable, they seem, at times, to come far closer to showing us glimpses of God than words or visual things. You know what I mean? Also, in this world they are indeed less than real life... meaning they're like a color screen over a movie, they're not the movie itself. But perhaps in Heaven, just perhaps, where emotions are pure and untaintable, they will be real life. Or at least a part of it. I mean, just think about it - when we, who were ripped apart at birth from the one Thing that we were created for, are once and for all joined to that beautiful, wondrous Thing, our Maker ... what can describe that ... that feeling? Feeling. Does that seem profane? That a mere emotion might be the only thing to describe a moment such as that? I don't think so.

Well I'm not sure if any of that made any sense, but I don't always have a closure on my thoughts. In fact I usually don't. So I'm sorry if that bothers you.

Until next time...

One sentence

If there were no
evil,

love
would mean
nothing.

Not Just Another Night

by Ariel J

It is not a pleasant evening to be in town. The streets pour with people – most of them irritable, and most of them voicing their annoyance. Here a child who won't cease his shrill whine until hoisted on his mother's shoulders; there two men arguing heatedly about who ran into whose cart and subsequently toppled its contents into the dirt; everywhere people pushing, crowding, yelling for a relative, trying to keep their sanity amidst the cacophony.

And that's not to mention the animals. Chickens in little cages squawking pettishly at the unsteadiness of their transportation; horses bearing children compliantly and donkeys being pulled along by red-faced men; and cows following slowly, unconcerned about the whole matter.

The resulting racket is unpleasant, to say the least, but what choice does anyone have? If the king said to go to your hometown … well, you went to your hometown. And quickly.

Every other minute a new sign is put out in front of yet another inn: No Vacancy! Somehow, though, these signs don't seem to deter people from pounding on the poor innkeepers' doors.

Amidst all the chaos, who would notice a frail, elderly man hunched in a little corner between two wedged buildings? No one – and no one does. He simply sits there, skinny arms and legs tucked under a frayed blanket, inches away from the swarm of human beings but seemingly untouched by it. His face is placid, yet almost a little sad. But then perhaps not, as his bushy eyebrows are relaxed and his wrinkly face unagitated.

But now – something seems to get his attention. He turns his head slightly to the right, to look at the inn right next to him. There's a younger man at the door once again, pleading with the owner. Nothing out of the ordinary, but the aged man continues to watch.

The younger man, who is lean and strong though not handsome, gestures to a donkey a little ways away. The creature carries a woman who is heavy with child. The man continues to plead with the host, who is still shaking his head. Then the innkeeper disappears inside for a few moments. The old man still watches.

The man emerges with a couple blankets and a lamp. He steps out into the dusk, closing the door firmly behind him. The younger man, looking grateful, moves to get his wife. He takes the donkey's reigns and gently leads the animal forward, following the host. As they pass by the old man, the woman offers him a feeble smile. As if startled by this, he simply watches her with a blank face as they disappear around a corner.

Then, slowly, a lopsided smile spreads on the lined face. It remains there as he slips lower into his blanket, the sky growing ever darker.

Deep into the night, the old man awakes with a start, as a woman's cry fills the air. He blinks, eyes wide, listening. Again a outcry, this one more like a shriek, breaks the silence. The man calms a little, realizing what is happening. He almost smiles and looks up at the night sky. The stars shine effortlessly in the deep darkness, those stars he has seen thousands of times before. Softer groans greet his ears now, but he keeps his eyes on the stars.

Then the man frowns. He squints, looking into the distance. A strange sort of glow comes from near the horizon. It is like someone dropped a bit of the sun's radiance into the black sky. The man is still peering intently at it when it bursts into greater luminance, as if multiplying itself. He stares, wide-eyed, the gleam from the radiance faintly lighting up his face.

He looks astounded as soft strains of some kind of music creep through the dry, cold air. Or is it music at all? It's too quiet to tell, but whatever it is, it is warming. Yes, it is a sound that is warming.

Then, as if finished with its errand, the bright glow vanishes abruptly. For two seconds a soft light hangs in the air where it had been, but that soon disappears as well.

For a whole minute, the old eyes continue to stare at the spot, perhaps hoping the radiance will return, or perhaps doubtful it even occurred. Then the man shakes his head slightly, his face baffled. He leans his head against the ill-painted wall beside him and closes his eyes.

Not five minutes later, he is once again roused from sleep. This time it is by talking. The deep voices are hushed, but still a disturbance at this late hour. Blinking drowsily, the old man looks around, as if slightly confused. Then he looks right as footsteps grow louder …

Four men run by – in a rather disjointed run, for each looks this way and that, searching for something. It is too dark to see who they are, but the fact that they are awake at such a time of night suggests them to be some sort of night watchmen. Their words are too quiet to be understandable, so the old man simply watches them, silently.

Then they are gone, the voices and footsteps getting quieter until someone shouts. Abruptly the running feet stop. The old man's face is in concentration, as if listening for some other sound. But none comes. The men must have found what they were looking for.

Seeming to be a little miffed that this second interruption was not as grand as the first, the old man quickly resituates himself and once again closes his eyes.

Laughter wakens the ancient man. Oh, but laughter, indeed! Who laughs in the middle of the night?

As if genuinely displeased this time, the man stubbornly keeps his eyes closed, unwilling to be awakened. Four men run by him, talking in intense voices, and – yes – one of them laughs. As they energetically pass through the street, one sees the sleeping man. He slows, as if unsure whether to wake him. Apparently he decides it worth the disturbance, for he runs up to the feeble man and shakes him gently by the shoulders.

“Wake up, old man, wake up!” Obediently the man's eyes pop open. He looked surprised, and slightly scared.

The younger man grins at him. “He has been born. He's been born tonight!” he says eagerly. His listener watches him, brows furrowed. “He has finally come to us – the Messiah!” He stands, raising his hands to heaven. “Praise Jehovah, the God of Israel!”

As if unable to contain his joy while standing still, the younger man rushes off in the direction of his companions, leaving the old man with a stunned face. Slowly he reaches for his blanket, which slipped off him in the other man's exuberant shaking. He draws it back up around himself, and his expression slowly changes to awe, wonder.

Then he allows the full effect of the words to overcome him. The crooked smile, which earlier appeared tentatively, now covers his face in an instant. For the final time, he closes his eyes, but the smile does not go away.

Perhaps, just perhaps, it was a pleasant night to be in town after all.

Perfection and Weakness Fused Together

We've all heard the Christmas story. So much that it seems like it's almost lost its sense of miraculousness. God really did come down to earth as a human.

 I love the way Tosca Lee* puts it in her book “Demon: A Memoir.” Hearing this familiar story from a demon's point of view puts it in a whole different light, showing us just how amazing it really was. But enough said. I'll let her words speak for themselves.

(The “she” is Lucian, the demon, and the “I” is Clay, the person Lucian is telling the story of the world to. Lucian is speaking here.)

        “Had it not been for the identity of the baby, it would have been an otherwise unremarkable night, and your polite 'Greensleeves' would have been an appropriate soundtrack, after all. But it wasn't an ordinary baby. It wasn't an unremarkable night.

        “There had been rumors. Prophets ranting about saviours.” The demon's cup of tea sat steaming in front of her, neglected. “Then the news came: A messiah was imminent.”

        “How did you feel about that?” I asked.

        She folded her hands on the table and smiled. “Oh, I wanted to see it! After all, it had to be a Herculean job, being a savior; it didn't seem possible for one man. And we began to speculate among ourselves which of his favorites El would raise up. Perhaps he'd be a man of breeding and education. A leader of men. A great general – a soldier, in very least.”

        “But this guy in Bethlehem… ”

        “A carpenter's kid born of a teenage pregnancy.” She covered her eyes with her hand and shook her head. “It was so ridiculous. El was making a clay child in the womb of some ordinary girl with a boring name. An unremarkable virgin – and not even the best-looking girl I'd ever seen – pledged to mary some carpenter or another in some insignificant town. Suffice it to say, it didn't look promising.” I felt now a strange tension in her, a tautness.

        “Finally we realized El's plan was far more extravagant and unimaginable than anything we could have fathomed. And as I huddled on the periphery of that night, I saw a shot of light, heard the heralding Host. The pulse of the world fell silent, one sound only filling the void where that deafening announcement had been: the first wail of a newborn human.”
        She lowered her head. “Had I blood, it would have frozen in my veins, for I recognized the voice in that human cry. And the knowledge of it rushed upon me all at once: Elohim, Creator Almighty, had sent that part of himself, the very part that had spoken the words for the forming of the cosmos before my inception, had planted himself in the womb of an insignificant girl. He had arrived in person. Do you understand? Flesh! He had taken on flesh, true flesh! The sentence of humanity. God himself in the clay body of man.
       “Here, suddenly, was the unfathomable combination: the perfection of El in a fallible mud body. Perfection and weakness fused together.”

Unfathomable. Yes, it was. Let us treat it as such!

It's coming...

A couple nights ago our family went caroling downtown. I love our downtown – its so old-fashioned and small and downtowny. And I love how the alleyways are filled with shrubs, vines and little benches. But I digress. ;)

Our family sings four-part harmony, and we've learned some new Christmas tunes this year, so we went out in the freezing cold weather to carol to folks downtown. Just the four of us. Despite the fact that my nose, toes, chin and fingers were half-numb, I had a grand time. It's just that feeling … Let me try to describe it to you.

Heart high. Jacket snug. Deep breaths of cold, dry air. Happy faces. Seeing my breath as I sing.
Smiles, thanks from strangers. Dad's top hat. Singing louder, into the winter. Horse drawn carriage trots around corner. Tianna points. Smile, enjoy it.
Laugh.
Love.

Christmas is coming.