Psalm 122

Verse 1...
I was glad when they said to me, 
“Let us go to the house of the Lord!"

Sundays are special. They feel different from the other days of the week. Sunday is the oasis in the desert wilderness of my week. I can't imagine not being in the Lord's house on Sunday!

Symphony night alone

My dear one,

I ran my four-mile route for the first time in a few weeks. All kinds of excuses had kept me away from it--the cool temperatures, my cold, my writing deadlines, and plain old laziness. It felt good to get out there again.

Speaking of the weather, I cannot believe my good fortune this spring. It has been delightfully, deliciously cool for much longer than I expected! Usually by this time in April the 80s are here to stay. I am soaking up every little bit of the coolness while it lasts.

I went to a concert this evening. I invited a friend along, but she had something else come up, so I went alone. The symphony orchestra is not the school one nor the local professional one with which I play frequently, but is in a nearby city (1.5 hours away). It's technically the top orchestra in the state. I have the privilege of attending their concerts for free (only paying for gas and parking), by invitation of the conductor. That's definitely something I'll miss when I move this summer!

The drive to and from the concert was perfect--blue skies on the way there, no humidity, and starry skies on the way back, wonderful cool breeze. Such a lovely day overall. I wish you could have enjoyed it with me.

Waiting,
Me

Psalm 123

Verse 2...
"Behold, as the eyes of servants

look to the hand of their master,

as the eyes of a maidservant

to the hand of her mistress,

so our eyes look to the LORD our God,

till He has mercy upon us."

I have no one else to look to for guidance and leadership. Well, I do have my parents, but it is hard when I am so far away to feel like they understand my feelings, needs, burdens, desires, struggles, questions. My eyes look to the Lord!

Surprises

My dear one,

I want to surprise you. I want your heart to skip a beat when you find some token of my love for you tucked away in your lunch. I want to try a new recipe I think you'll like. I want to catch your eye across a crowded room and smile shyly in response to yours. I want to send you books with my notes and underlinings for you to read. I want to explore new sounds, new sights, and new tastes with you. I want to dress up for a special occasion, just for you. I want to encourage you in small ways and big ways. I want to put my arms around you and kiss you on the cheek as you sit at your desk, weary with care, and whisper in your ear to assure you that you are my hero and I'll always be your girl.

Waiting for all this and more,
Me

P.S. I went to a rather enjoyable event this evening. I'd love to tell you all about it, but this is not the time and place, because if I revealed what kind of event it was (i.e., what I ate and listened to), I would totally be giving away my location (and potentially my identity, if one were a good detective), but I prefer to keep this blog anonymous for you, my dear one. Anyway, this type of event is only enjoyed seasonally, and in this state... that's all I'll say. Perhaps one day we can enjoy it together. :)

Psalm 124

I cannot read this psalm without the Scottish Psalter 2nd version running through my mind (listen to a friend's piano arrangement of the tune here)...
 
1   Now Israel may say, and that truly,
     If that the Lord had not our cause maintained,
2   If that the Lord had not our right sustained,
     When cruel men who us desired to slay
     Rose up in wrath, to make of us their prey;
3   Then certainly they had devoured us all,
     And swallowed quick, for ought that we could deem;
     Such was their rage, as we might well esteem.
4   And as fierce floods before them all things drown,
     So had they brought our soul to death quite down.
5   The raging streams, with their proud swelling waves,
     Had then our soul o'erwhelmed in the deep.
6   But blessed be God, Who doth us safely keep,
     And gave us not a living prey to be
     Unto their teeth and bloody cruelty.
7   E'en as a bird out of the fowler's snare
     Escapes away, so is our soul set free:
     Rent is their net, and thus escaped we.
8   Therefore our help is in the Lord's great name,
     Who heaven and earth by His great power did frame.

Psalm 125

Verse 4...
"Do good, O LORD, to those who are good, 
and to those who are upright in their hearts!"

Spurgeon:
"Those who trust in the Lord are good; for faith is the root of righteousness, and the evidence of uprightness. Faith in God is a good and upright thing, and its influence makes the rest of the man good and upright. To such God will do good: the prayer of the text is but another form of promise, for that which the Lord prompts us to ask He virtually promises to give."

Carinhoso

My dear one,

I grew up in a conservative home where dancing wasn't really something on the agenda, haha! These days I have occasionally engaged in a few varieties of dancing ... contradance and some basic salsa steps, mainly. Yet I've always held out the hope that someday you will teach me to slow-dance together in the privacy our home. Someday we will listen to this lovely music, dancing cheek to cheek. I don't speak more than a few phrases of Portuguese, but I do know that "Carinhoso" is one of my favorite Brazilian choros.

Portuguese itself is one of the most beautiful sung languages, in my opinion. Here is a vocal rendition of "Carinhoso" to prove my point. So soothing, so sensual...

Meu coração, não sei porque (My heart, I don't know why)
Bate feliz, quando te vê (Beats happily, when it sees you)
E os meus olhos ficam sorrindo (And my eyes are smiling)
E pelas ruas vão te seguindo (And through the streets they are following you)
Mas mesmo assim, foges de mim (Even though you run away from me)
Ah! Se tu soubesses (Ah! If only you knew)
Como sou tão carinhoso (How tender I am)
E muito e muito que te quero (And how much, how much I want you)
E como é sincero o meu amor (And how sincere is my love)
Eu sei que tu não fugirias mais de mim (I know that you would no longer run away from me)
Vem, vem, vem, vem (Come here, come, come, come)
Vem sentir o calor (Come and feel the heat)
Dos lábios meus (Of my lips)
À procura dos teus (Looking for yours)
Vem matar esta paixão (Come kill this passion)
Que me devora o coração (Which devours my heart)
E só assim então (And only then)
Serei feliz, bem feliz (Will I be happy, very happy)

Music by Pixinguinha, 1917
Lyrics by Braguinha, 1937

Waiting,
Me

Psalm 126

Verse 5...
"Those who sow in tears

shall reap with shouts of joy!"

It was three years ago, April 2010, that my decision to accept this doctoral teaching assistantship was made official. A decision accompanied by secret tears. A journey marked by many more tears. Almost three whole years of loneliness watered by tears. And now this final paper written through tears.

I don't know what sort of joyful harvest there could ever be to reap from these tears. I have never really wanted this degree. And the closer I draw to completing it, the more scared I become of what it will mean for my future. I'm so frightened that it will keep you, my dear one, away from me. That you will see me from a distance and note my achievements coolly, convinced that I am a career-driven feminist. That you will never get to know me well enough to learn that I want to be a godly wife. I want someone who will hold me in his arms, protect me, make me feel cherished, be someone for me to look up to and follow.

So why is God leading me down this path of loneliness and a professional career? What lesson am I missing that God is trying to teach me through this?

Jesus, draw me ever nearer as I labor through the storm.
You have called me to this passage, and I'll follow though I'm worn.

May this journey bring a blessing, may I rise on wings of faith;
And at the end of my heart’s testing, with Your likeness let me wake.

Jesus, guide me through the tempest; keep my spirit staid and sure.

When the midnight meets the morning, let me love You even more.

May the treasures of the trial form within me as I go.
And at the end of this long passage, let me leave them at Your throne.

-- Margaret Becker & Keith Getty

My daddy

My dear one,

Sometimes I wonder if you will be a little (or a lot) like my dad. I've heard it stated many a time that woman marry men that resemble their fathers. I have no doubt that, in matters of moral character and spiritual faith, you will indeed be like my dad.

But as far as personality goes, I guess I don't really care that much. Your personality and his could be as different as night and day.

But in case you're wondering what my father is like, here goes...

My father is a quiet humble man, a man who for thirty years served as a faithful shepherd of three small church "flocks." He has has stood courageously for the truth of God's Word and the holiness God proscribes for His people, despite the unpopularity of such a stand. 

I have witnessed my father being unjustly maligned by those he served yet without a harsh word or defensive spirit. I saw his shoulders heavy under the burdens of ministry. I observed the tears of grief and love he shed for the people he sought to lead. I saw the hours he spent training up eager disciples of Christ and the years he spent faithfully expositing Scripture from the pulpit.

I observed how God gently led him to a new ministry that removed him from the heavy weight that had been crushing him. I smile as I note how the people he now serves love him so dearly. Whether teaching Sunday School, mowing lawns, filling out work orders, sitting with a feeble man as his wife recovers from surgery, stepping in as an emergency plumber, singing in the church choir, moving furniture in triple-digit summer heat, fulfilling the role of a deacon, or starring in the Christmas play, he does so with the same servant's heart and humble spirit I have always known him to have. I rejoice to see the new health and vigor in my father's life, and find myself amused at his new hobbies of astronomy and jogging. I learn something new about my dad every day, it seems!

I have fond memories of watching my father sitting on the couch with his Bible and a cup of coffee, listening to classical music early in the morning as he prepared for his day. He would sing and pray with me at bedtime, and would read books and make up stories that were "to be continued" night after night. He would build magnificent campfires during our family's tenting vacations and toast marshmallows to perfection.

My father's love for us his children and his wise counsel to us over the years is something I treasure above all else. I am so thankful for his example and how he exhibits the qualities I now seek in a man who would be my husband. I pray that someday you will know and love my father too, not in a servile, sycophatic, toadying way, but as a friend and brother in Christ, a fellow student of God's Word, and as someone who wants God's best for me. Someday you will ask my father's permission to woo me. Someday you will ask my father for my hand in marriage. Someday...

Waiting,
Me

Psalm 127

Verse 2...
"It is in vain that you rise up early 

and go late to rest, 
eating the bread of anxious toil; 

for he gives to his beloved sleep."

This evening I read a transcript of a sermon that Ligon Duncan preached on this psalm:

Apart from the Lord, apart from active dependence upon the Lord, apart from trust in the Lord, our lives are pointless, restless, and fruitless. This psalm appeals to three basic activities of life, to explain and apply the truth that we need to depend upon the Lord, that we need to deliberately trust the Lord in every aspect of our lives. The illustrations in this psalm revolve around construction (building a house), security (protecting a city), and parenting (rearing a family). And in those three spheres, Solomon charges us to trust God, to depend upon God, to recognize that all of our efforts will be in vain unless the Lord blesses.

William Plumer, the great Old Testament commentator and the author of a marvelous commentary on the Psalms, asked this searching question:  How many millions sleep and wake up like atheists? That is, do we go to bed and wake up in our worries as if God did not exist? Do we think that we can worry ourselves to security? Worry ourselves to fruitful labor as if God did not exist? Or do we work and then trust Him to establish the work of our hands?

What a needed reminder for me this evening! No amount of worry and anxiety is going to help me finish this degree, make a living, find a husband, or bring about any other objective I may have.

The Sweetest Sounds

The sweetest sounds I'll ever hear
  are still inside my head...
The kindest words I'll ever know
are waiting to be said...
The most entrancing sight of all
is yet for me to see...

And the dearest love in all the world
is waiting somewhere for me!

Psalm 128

Verses 1-4...
Blessed is everyone who fears the Lord,

who walks in his ways!

You shall eat the fruit of the labor of your hands;

you shall be blessed, and it shall be well with you.

Your wife will be like a fruitful vine

within your house;

your children will be like olive shoots

around your table.

Behold, thus shall the man be blessed

who fears the Lord.

I cry over these words tonight, desperately pleading with the Lord to make this a reality in my life, that I would have a home like this someday.

Relationships

My dear one,

Two of my friends made announcements within a day of each other (an engagement last night, a new relationship this morning, and no, they're not April Fool's Day jokes). "Well, there are two more friends to hide from my newsfeed," I mutter. I find it so hard not to be bitter. The girl who announced this morning that she's now dating is someone I considered to be a kindred spirit. Every time I start developing a friendship with someone, she finds her special man and I am left to sit alone wondering if it will ever be my turn. No, it's not like she intentionally would snub me, but it's only natural that other relationships take a back seat once a girl falls in love.

Oh yes, I know this attitude of mine, this pity party, is most unattractive. You definitely would not approve. But you see, that's why I need you in my life, to spur me on ... further up and further in.

I don't know how much longer I can pretend you exist. Hope deferred makes the heart sick.

Speaking of relationships, a third girl I know got married on Saturday, but is not changing her name. That is something that always bothers me. I can't imagine not changing my name! I would want more than anything to take your name as my own and wear it proudly, my dear one. My identity will be bound up with yours. But that can only be if you find me...

Waiting, for now...
Me

Psalm 129

Verses 4-5...
"The LORD is righteous; 
He has cut the cords of the wicked.
May all who hate Zion 
be put to shame and turned backward!"

It may appear as if the ungodly have the upper hand, but the Lord is righteous and true to His promises. He has cut the cords that formerly bound His people to be slaves of the enemy. Those who hate the church of Christ may seek to put Christians to shame, but one day they themselves will be put to shame. At the name of Jesus every knee will bow and every tongue confess that Jesus Christ is Lord, to the glory of God the Father.

Stream of consciousness ramblings

My dear one,

This morning as I was getting ready for church, I was listening to Max McLean read Luke 24. This chapter gives me goosebumps every time. Especially the part about the men on the road to Emmaus. Wow.

At church I was scheduled to work in the nursery for the morning worship service, but I was pulled out to cover piano instead, because the usual pianist was out of town. I typically play only for the evening service. Piano was my first instrument -- my mom began teaching me when I was five or so. But when I added my "other instrument" at the age of nine, piano took somewhat of a secondary role. I am thankful to have that foundation in piano though, because it enables me to help out my small church, as well as other benefits like accompanying my students (at least on a basic level) and strengthening my theory skills (music theory has been my minor area of study throughout my doctoral coursework). 

Theory and analysis, by the way, plays a significant part in my paper, and I am so grateful for my wonderful minor professor who has made so many helpful suggestions. I've take a number of her seminar classes, and it is because of her that I found my research topic in the first place. I think she enjoyed having me in her classes because when I was at her office the other day she said, "You are one of the most memorable students I've taught here, and my only regret is that the theory department couldn't persuade you to switch your major." I wrote a LOT of analysis papers for her, so it's only fitting that she's now reading my thesis! :)

At our weekly church fellowship meal after the evening service, I was sitting across the table from two little boys, ages 5 and 6, who asked me questions non-stop: "Can you make yourself invisible? How old are you? What's fifteen thousand plus fifteen thousand? Do you like the red ink I drew on my nose?" I was amused.

I called my mom when I got home. "You sound tired," she said. Um, yeah, just a little... Tomorrow I think I'll sleep in. I overslept this morning and barely got to Sunday School on time. So much for a leisurely Sunday morning. At least they provide coffee before Sunday School. :) And there were oatmeal creme pies this morning too (leftover from the church camping trip I didn't go on...)! Score!

Goodnight, my someone, goodnight my love.

Sleep tight, my someone, sleep tight, my love.

Our star is shining its brightest light,
For goodnight, my love, for goodnight.

Sweet dreams be your, dear, if dreams there be.

Sweet dreams to carry you close to me.

I wish I they may and I wish they might.

Now goodnight, my someone, good night.

True love can be whispered from heart to heart

When lovers are parted, they say.

But I must depend on a wish and a star

As long as my heart doesn't know who you are.

Sweet dreams be your, dear, if dreams there be.

Sweet dreams to carry you close to me.

I wish I they may and I wish they might.

Now goodnight, my someone, goodnight.

(Meredith Willson's The Music Man)