Or Can I?

"You believe at last!" Jesus answered. 

John 16:31

Sierra and I watched every single episode of "So You Think You Can Dance" this season.  Except the very last one.  The one where the winner was announced.  Sierra says Amy and Aaron won.  I just can't predict.  The final competitors were all so very good.  And I wanted to know who won.  Really.  I thought I had the show recorded, and I've looked it up on my On Demand listings, but either it's not there or I'm looking in all the wrong places.  I suppose I could just google the results, but that seems kind of anti-climatic.  I want to see the winners.  I want to share in their triumph.  I want to feel like I'm there with them - in time and place with them.

Time and place and shared experience.  They're part of relationship.  During the season, I felt like there was some kind of relationship between me and the contestants on the show.  The producers were pretty darned strategic about building connections - by showing us back story, by prompting the dancers to describe themselves in 15 seconds or less, by catching bloopers and rehearsals.  By helping us, sitting at home, to relate to the competitors.  Giving us shared time, shared place, and shared experience.  It was important to the show because the audience got to vote.  And votes weren't always based on the best technician.  The show was designed that way. 

So, I don't know who won.  And it hasn't made one, single difference in my life.  All of that strategic connection-making hasn't made one difference in how I live, in what I say, in how I think...  Because it wasn't real.  It was manipulated.  The magic of television brought the show into my living room each week - but I could watch a recording of it at anytime and in anyplace.  Fifty years from now, a hundred years from now someone could watch these recordings and the dancers would seem just as young and just as vital, and the show would be just as much about false relationship as it is today.

I say false relationship and it sounds negative.  I don't mean it that way.  I simply mean it is not.  The simplest definition of relationship is "the way in which two or more people or things are connected". (http://www.merriam-webster.com/dictionary/relationship)  I'm not connected to these dancers - except through the window of television.

So, what does that say about a relationship with Jesus?  Where's the connections?  Time.  Place.  Experience.  He lived over two-thousand years ago and I can't watch reruns.  Not even through the magic of television can I share time with him.  He lived in Roman-ruled Israel.  His place simply doesn't exist anymore.  And experience?  Good grief - he was fully God and fully man - I can't possibly connect to that.

Or can I?

Heavenly Father, Awesome God, 

Did you intend the world to be in relationship with You through Your Son? 

What a vision!  Help me to do my part - to see Jesus in the world, to know Jesus in the world,

 to connect to Jesus in the world, to follow Jesus in the world.  

Linking With:
Three Word Wednesday

Humbled By Kindness Part 3

If your gift is to encourage others, be encouraging. If it is giving, give generously. If God has given you leadership ability, take the responsibility seriously. And if you have a gift for showing kindness to others, do it gladly.

Romans 12:8

“You know, I still didn’t completely trust – much as I’d like to say I did.  Not at first.  I left CeCe on the line – explaining that I would be in the auditorium, but that Daniel would make sure she did what she was supposed to do,  then I immediately checked up on this Daniel guy.  I spoke with one of the APs – the one whose wife headed up our Special Olympics track team – the one I thought would have the most sympathy and understanding of CeCe’s situation and needs.  I asked him if this Daniel guy would actually help CeCe out, if he would actually take this added responsibility on.  The AP assured me – he said the boy was one of the good guys – and he said he’d keep an eye out for her as well…”

“So I sat back and watched the kids come into the auditorium.  I couldn’t help but smile when I saw CeCe and that Daniel walking in – she had his attention, she looked like she was talking a mile a minute and he looked like he was listening….he had that attentive pose – slightly bent to get an ear closer to CeCe – there’s no other way to say it – he had a bemused look on his face.  You know, the kind of look that says ‘I really have no clue what you’re saying but I’m going to go along with it anyway…’.  It was wonderful, watching them.  Tall and short.  Black and white…”  She trailed off, eyes blinking again behind her glasses. 

I watched her; she was staring off again – that see-all-see-nothing stare.  A slight movement directed my attention.  Her hands were trembling – tracing over the picture in the album.  She caught the edge of the page and turned it, slowly, smoothing over the new sheet of old photos tenderly. 

“I miss her, my girl.”  The whisper floated,  journeying across the space and time that separated us.  The old woman and me. 

I leaned in closer to see what her fingers were remembering.  The girl’s eyes were riveting.  Her blonde hair was lifted up and away from the somber robe – making the whole picture playful.  Teasing.  Her eyes, though.  Her eyes were staring right at the camera.  It looked like they were staring right at me.  They were tilted slightly at the corners, flat lids.  Young.  Young and innocent and joyful and wise.  Could they really be all those things?  To a camera?  To a stranger across the years?  I noticed the details – the cap was a little too big – coming down over her brow just a little too far, creating a shadow across her forehead because it didn’t quite fit.  She was looking away – at another camera, another photographer in the next couple of pictures.  In one, she had her arm around another student.  In this one, it was her smile that captivated me.  So honest.  Pure.  Sweet.

“.,,Last year….”   The old woman had turned toward me again.  She, too, was smiling.  “Yes,”  she agreed.  “My CeCe had that same effect on everyone.  She spilled over with joy.  She was all about relationship.”  Her finger rested on the photo of the two friends.  “I miss her.”

“So, do you want to hear the rest of the story?  About that boy?  And my girl?  It was something special.”  The woman’s lifted her eyes – sparkling – from the album in her lap.  I nodded.

  

“Well, there’s really not much more to it all, really.  Not anymore with my memory, anyway…”   She laughed – a short burst of a humph-y laugh, and continued.  “That boy – Daniel – he caught up to us from the class picture,” her finger pointed to the photos.  “He said he’d been watching for her – from the top row.”  She looked up at me again.  “Can you just imagine?  Him in his graduation robe, looking all sharp and eyerything with his tie and honors medal around his neck, in the middle of his own graduation, looking for my girl?  Right then and there I prayed a little prayer of thanks.  He was truly a gift.”

“CeCe and I walked with him into the Expo Center where this thing was going to take place.  It was big and there were a lot of people, crowding into the doors and looking like they knew where they were going.  We were shepherded outside and back in to an area just for staff and graduates.  Did I tell you that CeCe’s principal had issued me an ID so I could be with her before the big line-up?  So I was there in the middle of all these students.  CeCe had to pick up her name card from a table and get ready to line up.  After I zipped her robe back on, Daniel told me he could watch her, and would stay with her from there.  I trusted him – CeCe was so excited.  She told me to go – she would be fine.  So I left.”

“The next time I saw my girl, she was being helped down the stadium steps – by Daniel – in her graduation line – in time with Pomp and Circumstance.  Of course, I got all emotional.  Still do when I think about it…Somehow that boy knew those steps were going to be difficult for my daughter to manage.  She was in seventh heaven holding his arm.  You could see the relationship all the way down the steps, then all the way down the aisle….right up until the moment the row behind them blocked the view – of the tall boy and the short girl – taking care of each other – I could just picture that bemused expression on his face because her face was tilted toward his and her mouth was moving – a mile a minute.”

“It’s like snapshots in my head – these memories of the ceremony,”  my Aunt had closed her eyes and was leaning back against the cushions of her chair.  She turned those closed eyes toward me and continued.

“She was in the third row, on the side closest to where we were sitting.  We saw the row stand and watched as they lined up along the opposite wall – moving toward the stage and their handshake.  CeCe had been practicing that handshake for weeks – reach for the diploma with the left, shake with the right, look the person in the eye.  She actually had a surprisingly firm grip.”

The woman moved her hands away from the album.  They had been covering a few more of the old pictures.  Blurry again.  But knowing the story, now, I could see the tall and short – in line against a the far side of an arena.  It was obvious they were talking – his head tilted down, hers tilted up.  In one, it looked like he was guiding her – arm behind her back. 

“You see it, now, don’t you?”  The woman’s voice was muted in the stillness of the room.  She turned her head toward me – eyes still closed.  “My camera may not have gotten the detail – but it captured the important stuff – you see, don’t you?  The relationship.  The trust.  The caring.”  She opened her eyes and pointed to the final picture on the page. 

“Look.  Closely.  I almost missed it myself….yes, that’s CeCe shaking the hand of her high school principal.  You can see the school board members lined up – she had to walk down the line.  Three hands.  Then there’s the photographer.  You can see his camera and his concentration.  Catching the moment.  But look behind him.  On the floor – where the students are lining up for their second picture.  He’s the one turned around to watch.  He’s still keeping his eye on my girl – still watching out for her.  Now, that…” the old woman turned to me, concise and crisp, big smile forming, finger pressed into the book, “That’s special.” 

She was blinking behind her glasses – blinking away tears.  “I just can’t tell that story without crying – even now, after all these years.”  It was almost like she’d forgotten I was even in the room – a comment to herself.  “I’m always so humbled by his kindness.”  She stopped the blinking.  Tears tracked along the fine wrinkles.  She gave me one of her special teacher looks – the sternish one – the look that said listen to what I’m about to say…  “I made him introduce me to his mother – at the end – I wanted to make sure she knew what a good boy she’d raised.  It was the least I could do…for all he’d done for my girl….”

“You know, he never did stop taking care of her – He helped her move her tassel, throw her cap in the air – and retrieved it for her, walked her back up the stairs, and even stayed with her – us – when she traded in her card for her diploma.  He told me CeCe had calmed his nerves.  Imagine that!  He stayed right up until I met his mom – and his sister, his grandma, his girlfriend.  They were all proud of him – his graduation….He was such a good boy.”

She closed the album and pushed it to the side of her chair.  Her face was composed.  She smoothed her hands over the tears, then back to her lap where they lay, calm and still.  “I’m a little tired, now.  Gonna take a catnap – visit my girl.  She always brought out the best in people.  I miss that. ..miss her….”.  I watched her drift off – quiet breathing, chest barely moving.  And then a smile – forming just like a rainbow, twitched at the corners of her mouth…and stayed.  Serene.  Pure.  Sweet.

I think she found her girl. 

Heavenly Father, Thank you for kindness; help us to recognize it in our everydays.  Help us to appreciate and encourage those who choose kindness.  Bless them.

Math

We proclaim to you what we have seen and heard, so that you also may have fellowship with us.  And our fellowship is with the Father and with his Son, Jesus Christ.  We write this to make our joy complete.

1 John 1:3-4

I remember exactly when I discovered the satisfying nature of math.  My bachelor's degree is in something called Industrial Design.  It was conducted through the College of Architecture, alongside degree offerings in Interior Design, Environmental Design, and of course, Architecture.  I was fortunate to have been accepted in view of the portfolio I submitted.  I really came to the table poorly prepared for the actual performance of art or design - art had not been my priority in high school.  Because the degree itself was a Bachelor of Science in Design, it ended up being about a 50/50 combination of art and design, and engineering.  Projects consisted of designing products and then drafting them, rendering them and building models of them.  Presentations included manufacturing methods, exploded drawings, graphics, plus defense of our design.   There were only six of us in my cadre - six students who together practically 24/7 working in our studio, or in our required classes.  

I remember spending hours building the models of our designs - wood had to be magically made to look like plastic.  Bondo, glazing putty, primer, paint, and sanding and sanding and sanding.  I learned my way around a wood shop - I learned to operate a lot of machinery:  table saw, band saw, drum sander, lathe, jigsaw, and router, to name a few.   I learned to draft in pencil and ink, to render in marker (cool and warm gray as well as color) or colored pencil.  I learned to present using pantone films and rub-on letters, as well as cold press and hot press and spray-on adhesive.  Computer graphics and design was in its infancy, so those tools were unavailable.  Everything was hand built, hand made, carefully crafted, and yes, lovingly presented.

The presentations were the killer.  In the end, it didn't matter how much time, effort, or care had gone into the design and presentation of our products.  Bottom line.  If the instructor didn't like the color, or didn't agree with the 'lines', or took issue with the design reasoning, then the final grade fell short.  It was subjective.  

I learned to look forward to my classes that weren't subjective - my classes that required math.  There was one in particular that was just plain satisfying to me.  It was called Statics and Strength of Materials (oh my goodness - I still remember the name of the class after 30 years...).  We used math.  I would do my homework and bring it in to class, and the answers were either right or wrong.  If they weren't right, I could pinpoint the reason why.  The thinking was logical and sequential - no creative leaps or out-of-the-box solutions.  Straightforward.  

It balanced me.  

So, now I teach math.  To fifth-graders.  The funny thing is that the teaching challenges all of my abilities.  In a good way.  It challenges my creativity - taking the required learning and breaking it down to present it in a way that the students will grasp and understand.  It challenges my logic and sequence - how to most efficiently and effectively organize and order the lessons into the calendar days and class times.  It challenges my people-skills - in a classroom of pre-adolescent kids, their parents, and the administration and staff at my school. 

Here's the new eureka moment.  While I was reflecting on one of my lessons the other day - ratios and proportions - and I was trying to analyze why the kids were having such a hard time with it... I came upon the notion that math is all about relationship.  I think the kids are still doing what I used to do - thinking about math like a factory:  you put the numbers into a series of abstract rules and processes, and numbers come out.  The old input/output machine concept.  Numbers are the building material and numbers are the product.  So they get confused in the numbers.   It's abstract.  Isolated.  

In relationship, numbers represent something.  The somethings have a connection; connections show up as patterns, processes, or rules.  Math finds and defines the connections, the relationship.  

Like us.  We are in relationship.  We have a connection - to ourselves, to each other, to God.  People in the Old Testament used to give ‘fellowship offerings’ as a way to give thanks or establish fellowship between themselves and God - peace.   I think numbers in relationship – math - is God’s fellowship offering to us.  He shows us connection in everything around us.  He reveals Himself – even in math.  There is joy in that.

Thank you, God, for eureka moments.

Universe Fellowship

This is a picture of one of the sculptures designed, and created by the youth from Bob's Diner.  You can read about this unique youth group by clicking on this link.

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When the morning stars sang together 

all the sons of God shouted for joy...

Job 38: 7

Fortunately for me, I get to accompany my daughter to her youth group meetings.  She started attending  when we lived in Texas.  Fort Hood has an amazing, active group of up to 100 middle and high school youth, who attend Wednesday night meetings each week.  They call it Bob's Diner.  It is a different kind of community in that it's military - people come and go.  In fact, the leaders make it a point to let the kids know that they are always in transition.  At any time, about one-third of the youth are getting ready to PCS (the military member is making a Permanent Change in Station) away from Fort Hood , have recently PCS'd to Fort Hood, or are actually holding steady.  The kids were really good at welcoming new faces, at fellowshipping, and accepting one another.  They were wonderful with my daughter.  

Imagine being the leader of a group this size and this fluid.  Imagine trying to channel all of that energy, and youthful creativity, and curiosity, and impulse...  The couple in charge did (and continue to do) a great job!  First, they truly love the kids - each and every one of them.  They share their gifts with the youth - he, as an artist (kids from Bob's Diner made the statue in the picture under his direction), and she - as a musician.  She leads a Bob's Diner praise band composed of some very talented kids... They share their passion for Jesus.  

So, this morning, I was thinking of God's speech in Job - the poetry and majesty of Chapter 38.  You can read it here.  And when I came to the verse about the morning stars singing - I thought about a video played for us one Bob's Diner night.  It combines all of the gifts and passion of the youth leaders in a format that held all of our attention that night:   How Great is Our God!!!

Here's the thing.  I love how there's someone out there - Giglio who pulls the technology of YouTube and SETI and even an ipad mashup app, with praise and worship, together to present to someone like the youth leaders at Bob's Diner.  I love how the leaders at Bob's present this to us; kids and parents who live in transition.  I love how it combines science and the Bible.  In relationship.  Everything falls together, works together.  Kind of like fellowship.  Yeah, universe fellowship.  I like that.

God of the Heavens, thank you for praise and fellowship:  in art, in music, in groups like Bob's Diner.  Continue to guide and bless your messengers and leaders.