The Rope

I just read an amazing story called The Rope. Click on the link to get to it. It's short, but its message is important.  I know some of you already read her blog. I'll definitely be a regular visitor from now on.

Theodore Roethke and Dreams

I was perusing through my old visual journal, dated April 1998 - December 1999.

Perusing, for it slowed me down to an even slower pace than when I came to realize that this was a Monday and I wasn’t in school!  (Deep breath of appreciation here.)

I had just completed the entry of Motherhood, the poem about Judas Iscariot’s mother’s reflections after her son died.

I had found that poem in my visual journal, 1998-99 (see photos above for details), and that lead me to ponder and reflect on other entries I had made that year. I decided to take some pictures of the pages because I really like the combination of pictures, photos, and drawings combined with my own words, and the words of those I admired. A later entry will explain my visual journal, and how it helped me find the lighted path.

The next poem you’ll read is by Theodore Roethke. I didn’t even know who he was when I copied the few lines back in 1998 (detail of that page is first photo above). I didn’t know that there was more than the first three lines.

I just knew something in those words resonated within me a deeper meaning, something I knew about but could not voice into my own words. It had to do with waking up, with realizing I’d been “asleep” throughout most of my life. It had to do with a time of personal change and transformation: over a year before starting that particular journal (April 1998), I found myself walking a path that lead me into the teaching profession. I had graduated from Elon College in the summer of 1999, and began teaching that August.

“I learn by going where I have to go.”

Today is a day of discovery. I decided to look up Roethke’s name, and that’s how I found out the poem went beyond those three lines. I copied them into my journal for your own enjoyment and pondering, and so that I can read it as often as I‘d like. I read a biography of Mr. Roethke as well. If the name doesn’t ring a bell with you, maybe My Papa’s Waltz does.

Actually, every year during the week prior to the day we celebrate our Risen Savior, I make discoveries, and I always write about them in my paper journal. I’m making an attempt to make them public in my blog this week.

Usually, following Holy Week, the days of His Passion, and Easter Sunday, something changes for me… something really important happens. It never fails that something will be different by Easter Sunday.

It’s called The Waking.

I wake to sleep, and take my waking slow.

I feel my fate in what I cannot fear.

I learn by going where I have to go.

 

We think by feeling. What is there to know?

I hear my being dance from ear to ear.

I wake to sleep, and take my waking slow.

 

Of those so close beside me, which are you?

God bless the Ground! I shall walk softly there,

And learn by going where I have to go.

 

Light takes the Tree; but who can tell us how?

The lowly worm climbs up a winding stair;

I wake to sleep, and take my waking slow.

 

Great Nature has another thing to do

To you and me; so take the lively air,

And, lovely, learn by going where to go.

 

This shaking keeps me steady. I should know.

What falls away is always. And is near.

I wake to sleep, and take my waking slow.

I learn by going where I have to go.

 

Theodore Roethke died of a heart attack in 1963. Before this fatal incident Roethke wrote 61 poems that were published after his death in The Far Field in 1964, which won the National Book Award, and in The Collected Poems in 1966.

 

All the above information, including the poem, was taken from Theodore Roethke - Poems and Biography by PoetryConnection.net

What do you think of the poem?

Have you ever tried visual journaling?

A Mother's Point of View, a Poem, and Judas

The poem that follows was published in 1936 by Eleanor Agnes Lee. I found it first back in 1998 in my book, Best Loved Poems of  the American People. I found it again, today, on the internet at this website called OldPoetry. 

It's called "Motherhood." I read it during a church service on Mother's Day one year. It seems appropriate to read it again during Passion Week/Holy Week.

Motherhood

Mary,the Christ long slain, passed silently,
        Following the children joyously astir
       Under the cedrus and the olive tree,
       Pausing to let their laughter float to her —
       Each voice an echo of a voice more dear,
       She saw a little Christ in every face.

       Then came another woman gliding near
     To watch the tender life which filled the place.
     And Mary sought the woman's hand and spoke:
     " I know thee not, yet know thy memory tossed
      With all a thousand dreams their eyes evoke
      Who bring to thee a child beloved and lost.

    " I ,too, have rocked my Little One.
        And He was fair !
      Oh, fairer than the fairest sun
      And, like its rays through amber spun,
        His sun-bright hair.
      Still I can see it shine and shine."
      Even so, the woman said, "was mine."

    " His ways were ever darling  ways"-
       And Mary smiled -
      So soft, so clinging!  Glad relays
      Of love were all His precious days.
       My Little Child!
      My vanished star!  My music fled! "
      " Even so was mine," the woman said.

       And Mary whispered: Tell me, thou
        Of thine." And she:
       " Oh, mine was rosy as a bough
        Blooming with roses, sent, somehow,
          To bloom for me!
        His balmy fingers left a thrill
        Deep in my breast that warms me still. "

         Then she gazed down some wilder, darker hour,
         And said, when Mary questioned, knowing not:
         Who art thou, mother of so sweet a flower?" —
         " I am the mother of Iscariot."

Agnes Lee, Best Loved Poems of the American People, copyright 1936.

 

I watched the National Geographic program last night, The Gospel of Judas. It did not change anything I believe and know about Jesus. One can easily read all four Gospels and glean from that a picture of Judas Iscariot, not necessarily evil in himself, but someone placed into a role that he eventually regretted and could not live with.

Many people misunderstood Jesus' mission, his purpose on this earth. Many thought he would be their warrior king. When this did not appear to be the case, those that had originally followed and supported him had to make some choices of their own: to continue to follow him, or to abandon their teacher. Judas had a far more serious decision to make.

I remember back in 1973, when the album Jesus Christ Superstar came out. I bought it. I was a junior in college. Had not seen the movie nor the play, but the music and lyrics by Andrew Lloyd Weber were moving, powerful, and helped to tell the story of Jesus the man. The only thing missing was in the ending... I don't recall there was anything about the Resurrection... it made me think that Jesus was just a man after all. Not a God. And that Judas did what he had to do because Jesus told him to. In one scene, Judas sings tragically that he is "damned for all time!" and then he hangs himself. Fortuntately, I continued for more answers, and did not leave Jesus on the cross, a dead man.

The special that was on last night paints a sympathetic portrait of the man we have come to associate with the betrayal of Christ. It doesn't necessarily raise Judas to be faultless, but, from what I understand, it portrays him to be following Christ's request. In other words, he too, made a sacrifice of his own life, and certainly a sacrifice that left him in a critical, negative light. Evidence found in this gospel seems to say that Judas had more faith in Christ as Lord than the other disciples. It tells me, understandably so, that Judas believed in Jesus the Christ, but did not fully understand the concept of the Resurrection. (Who in his time did? How many of us today struggle to understand it? How many times have I betrayed my Lord when I could have boldly followed?)

Had he known what Christ knew, I don't think he would have killed himself. He would have rejoiced in the return of Jesus on the third day, and he would have known of the role he had to play. Do we understand our roles as Christians today? Do we know what we have to do? Do we do it every day?

For me personally, the answer is, regrettably, no. I don't do what Jesus asks me to do every day. I am weak, tired, selfish, and lazy when it comes to being a good Christian. I try. Sometimes I shine, other times, I'm in the dark. But I will never stop trying... someday, I hope to get it right.

Did you watch The Gospel of Judas? What do you think? Does it change what you believe about Jesus? Does it confirm what you believe about Jesus? Maybe it doesn't matter. You don't have to respond to these questions here... but do think about them.

You can also read about the lost Gospel of Judas at NationalGeographic.com.

The subject of Mavarin

I thought I should make an entry before I disappear into the world of Mavarin. I started reading Karen Funk Blocher's novel just last night, and now I'm hooked. I know that once I get started tonight, I won't want to push away from the computer. Except for the necessities, of course.

You see, the first two chapters of her novel, Heirs of Mavarin, are online at one of her websites. Though not yet "published" in the hard-back book sense of the word, she has submitted it to an editor, and I don't really know how much I am allowed to say about it without giving away personal information, but you can either read her thoughts about it in her blog, Outpost Mavarin, along with her thoughts about life in general, or you can read the first two chapters from the novel for yourself in Messages from Mavarin.  (Karen, I hope you will correct me if I am incorrect in any of these facts.)

Mavarin (pronounced Mayvarin, I believe, with a long /a/ sound),  is just one country in a world where live humans (royalty and common villagers,  magicians and traders, blacksmiths and tanners, among others I haven't even met yet). In the not too long ago past, a creature called a tengrem was created by a mage, and now there are I don't know how many of them in the world. A tengrem is part human, part horse, part wolf,  not too terribly ugly, somewhat resembling those mythological creatures that were part man, part horse... the name escapes me now. They are intermittently intelligent, and can speak the human language.

Yes, there is magic in this tale, and swords, and religion. There's even a language, and a history of the languages of this world. All lovingly created and explained in other links to Mavarin. Illustrations of the characters, and their histories, are included if you need to see the author's image of them. I don't need illustrations to help me get through a story, but I find myself referring to them as I come upon each main character in the story, just to find out how Karen envisioned them.

Since I've only read most of the first chapter, I can't tell you too much more in detail about where all this is going, but I can say that the first chapter gets straight into the action and drama of what I am certain is going to be a grand tale of self-discovery and transformation.

Here's what Karen has to say about Mavarin:

"The question of what makes us who we are lies at the heart of my first two novels, Heirs of Mâvarin and Mages of Mâvarin. Mâvarin is an “otherworld” equivalent of the Eastern United States, except that the River Misip is roughly where Appalachia ought to be. It is a place where magic works (for some people and against others), but literal monsters didn’t exist until a generation ago. Most of all, it is the home of Rani Fost and his two best friends: Del Merden and Del's twin sister Crel. Their respective journeys have more to do with self-discovery than with surviving magic and treachery, finding a lost king or getting back to where they need to be--although there's plenty of that, too."

                                                                                from Welcome to Mavarin

 

My taste for reading ranges from biography to fantasy and science fiction, from history to historical fiction, and lots of other genres in between. Currently, I am reading John Scalzi's Ghost Brigade, just finished C.S. Lewis' The Magician's Nephew, almost finished with Frank McCourt's Teacher Man, and sitting on the side waiting for my attention are Lewis' The Lion, The Witch, and the Wardrobe, and Rice's Christ the Lord, Out of Egypt. For real adult (albeit tame) fun, I'm halfway through Jennifer Robeson's Sword Singer.

Glean from this information what you may, I just like to read, and I like to have a variety on hand.

Think of it as a smorgasbord of aromatic foods, some spicy, some sweet, some pungent, some salty... all tasty... spread out on the table. You get to choose what you like on any particular day to suit what you are hungry for. You might want to sample sweet food for several days, then realize you want something salty or something spicy. You just never know what you will want from one day to the next, so you keep it all available. You don't have to clean your plate before tasting the tempting treat on another dish. When you have had enough, you leave, and come back again when you are hungry. I like having choices. (This does not mean that I don't occasionally start one book and read it exclusively.)

Actually, I don't even fantasize about food like that. I'm pretty bland and routine in my choices for food, but when it comes to reading, I do like a variety. And I do like to try new material, new genres, new authors.

There, my true confession. A little bit of everything. I'm even getting ready to dive into Vacation Bible School reading materials (Group's Fiesta!) as well.

Karen is my new author.

If you want to get a peek at her novel, just click on the link above. If you want to break the tradition of what you are reading, and if fantasy isn't on your list of favorite genre, still give her site a visit. I think you will be surprised. You might even find yourself hooked, like I did. If you are already a fantasy fan, then wait until you havesome free time, fix yourself a cup of tea or other soothing beverage, get comfortable, and settle in as you prepare to enter a world of magic, mystery, and myth.

Karen Funk Blocher is definitely an author worthy of your reading time!

Well, I have to go for now. Got some reading to do in Mavarin country!

Pray for Diego

A friend of mine, Betty, has been faithfully praying for a little boy and his family who are resolutely fighting a rare form of cancer. In fact, she has our entire church praying for him. Every Sunday, during the Prayer of Petition, we hear the name "Diego Santiago."

Diego is five years old. His lungs have tumors in them. His doctors have been treating him, and despite some grim reports from some doctors, other doctors are trying treatments that have begun to shrink the tumors.

His mother records in an on-line journal of the ups and downs of little Diego's ordeals, of her own highs and lows which, not peculiarly, coincide with her son's.

I began to visit her journal, and was drawn into her world of helping Diego live a happy, healthy life. Her faith in God has carried her every step of the way. She hides nothing from her readers: all her doubts, fears, her hopes and dreams... all are on the journal page.

Not only regarding Diego, although everything is regarding Diego. She manages to extract from her daily trials and tribulations words of wisdom which she gracefully and gratefully shares with the world. She is witnessing firsthand the presence of God in her life, and miracles are happening frequently in young Diego's life.

There is not a greater pain than watching your little child suffer, and there is not a greater joy than in knowing the Lord is working through the doctors, nurses, strong men in uniforms, and countless strangers across the country who are praying for this boy's healing.

Yet, Diego's mother continually reminds us that we should never stop praying. She says boldly, "Be relentless with your faith!"

Relentless.

When was the last time I was relentless about anything?

I draw strength from Cookie's words, from her faith in God. I think if you were to visit her journal, you would find something you didn't expect. But I want you to find out for yourself. Please take a moment to click on this link.

When you get there you will have to create a password for yourself to enter the CarePages. It takes just a minute. This link takes you to DiegoLand at CarePages.

Mrs. Santiago gave me permission to make this entry, and to provide a link. It is my hope that more people will add Diego, his family, and his doctors, to their prayer list. I believe that prayer is a powerful healing tool.

Yes, it's definitely spring!

How lovely to get home by 4:30 this afternoon and walk barefooted about the yard, taking photos of springtime wonder until the camera batteries died out, while Misty tracked some critter into the old, long-unused dog house, and Max faithfully followed my every step.

There is no better day than Friday, and no better Friday than the one on the verge of a ten-day vacation time called Spring Break! The excitement buzzed through our halls all the day long. Teachers seemed more tolerant of the noise level in the cafeteria, some classrooms held egg hunts, while others used the last hour of the school day for spring cleaning.

VBS workshop training tomorrow morning. Can't wait. Lots to do. Will return tomorrow.

 

 

 

Springtime and time change!

I felt normal today.... despite the heaviness I had in my chest, and the coughing during the night, today I felt pretty decent.

My dogs invited me outside to view the wild violets that have graced our yard all week, so I brought my camera with me and took a few pictures just to prove that what appears to be weeds during the rest of the year are really a yard full of wild violets. They're beautiful this time of year, and the pictures above don't do the color justice.

Other plants are also establishing ground quite nicely. Spring is definitely here.

I sprayed some water on the moth cocoon and gave it some air. It's in a huge glass cookie jar in my garage until Monday. Then I'm taking it to school for it's anticipated emergence.

Just a reminder: don't forget to set your clocks forward tonight. Ugh!! Steve is going to suffer more than I. He has to get up at 4 a.m. for work tomorrow. Poor guy. I miss him when he doesn't get the weekends off.

Today I've been planning and preparing for the VBS training workshop coming up on Saturday the 8th. Went to the dollar store to find some items like baskets and serving plates in bright fiesta colors. Bought some poster board to make five signs, and some colorful placemats. We need scissors, and markers, and lots of other things, but mostly, we need enthusiasm and a desire to make VBS a memorable experience for the kids and the leaders.

Thank you for your comments. I'm well again!