The Memory of Something Lost

As I sit here on this comfortable couch and listen to the Lord of the Rings soundtrack, I can't help but reflect upon the beauty and longings such music instills in the human soul.  Sound tracks are unique because they not only bring you along in musical anthem, but also in image.  The music portrays an image of brilliance.  And, knowing the L.O.T.R. movies and books well, I am captivated by such images.


I love this scene.  Light breaking through the darkness

I often think of mathematics as God's order, expressed in creation.  As we dive into angles, postulates, theorems, graphs, numbers, and equations, we can be awe-instilled at the order that has been inscribed into material things.  Music is similar, but more powerful.  Music is orderly, like math, but goes deeper than the intellectual and material.  It has its home in the unspeakable "ness" of the soul.  Joanna and I went to a concert over a year ago, and as I fell struck by the harmony and rhythm and dance of an Irish band, I couldn't help but sense in my inner depth a "longing".  I thought first, "I wish I could play that instrument or dance that beautifully."  But I realized that the one who does play and dance is only the shadow of the richer essence of the song.  Having played music, it seems the only way to satisfy such longing is to become the song itself!  Maybe when God breathed life into Man, He also breathed in us a song.  It seems our breath (the life he breathed) rarely reminds us of God, who is its origin.  But always, when certain music comes along, there is memory of something lost, of something needed, of something longed for.  It awakens in our soul a captivating image of identity in need of grasping.

Such experiences can easily leave one disappointed due to the dry and thirsty mouth that lays in want for a quenching drink.  Nevertheless I am left with this:  If there is one correspondance that these senses relate to, it's the fact that we were made by God, who has made us in His Image and who has and will bring us, who believe, that quenching drink.


Scenes like this (Taken near the valley of our future Central Asian home) also instill longing...

PS:
(Needless to say I am writing about a subjective issue.  Nevertheless thinking of such "normal" things can grow in us deeper devotion as we go about our everyday routine.  All of life is sacred because God is the creator.  We must not cut away part of our lives and claiming them as specially holy to God.  All life can be an offering of devotion.  As God brings us along the pathway leading to Central Asia, I hope nobody ever assumes this work a more acceptable or spiritual task than the one who is a cook, janitor, policeman, doctor, mother, father, etc.  We are no better or closer to God than the faithful man or woman who works in corporate America.  Our work is vitally important, don't get me wrong, but because of it, we aren't more acceptable and beautiful to God.)

A Pain in the Neck!

Tuesday afternoon I (Joanna) arrived back at our apartment building, home from work.  Immediately, a brown object below the mailboxes caught my attention: a package!  Inching closer, I make out the name on the front: it's for me!  The sender's info indicates what I've hoped for: it's our language program!

Bounding up the stairs, I couldn't even wait to get into our door to open it.  Tearing through the thick cardboard, I flip over the book and find this:

My Neck Hurts!  Nonsurgical Treatments for Neck and Upper Back Pain.


Hmmmm...somehow this is not what I expected the Central Asian textbook to look like.  Perhaps it's an indication of the language learning process to come...

Running the Race

2006: pleasantly cold

2007: humid, sunny, hot

2008: still too hot

2010: warmer than desired

These mark the years and weather conditions for the collection of Chicago Marathons we have run.  Our first year, we were not well-trained, but we thrived in the cold air.  The following year, though better-trained, we suffered through the immense heat that shut the race down early for some.  2008 came, and we were the most-prepared we had ever been.  Unfortunately, the temperature was only a few degrees cooler than the previous year.  This year, we devoted ourselves to training year-round for the big October race, but the day came with temperatures that wavered into the 80s.  In addition, we both struggled with the mental battle of running 26.2 miles.  I found myself thinking I forgot how much this hurts!

No matter how much time we devote to training and preparing, we must compete in whatever conditions race day holds.  New pains we never felt previously.  Blisters.  Humidity.

As we look forward to the next phase of our lives, I often feel like we are preparing for a marathon.  Excited?  Yes.  Nervous?  Sure.  I've never lived the rural life.  I have much to learn.  Our training phase is intense: meeting with churches and friends, articulating our vision and desire for the Dust Valley, and studying the country, language and culture.  While we wholly devote ourselves to this phase of the ministry, we still must face the conditions of the next phase as it comes.  With all the unexpected pains, battles and joys.

I find deep encouragement in meditating on Hebrews 12:1-3.  It reminds me that I am not alone in this great but difficult race.  It corrects me to fix my eyes on Jesus (rather than myself and my circumstances).  It causes me to ponder the depth of his pain that I may live and run for Him!

Chicago...We'll Miss You

When you put millions of people together in one area and allow them to do life together, you get something amply enjoyable and potently terrible.  Chicago is a place of life.  People live, eat, shop, run marathons, get hair cuts, walk across streets, enjoy the lake, open themselves to others, close themselves down, hate, commit crime, debate politics, watch football and hockey, and construct for themselves the Chicago that exists today.

I have spent more than 1/5 of my 25 year old life in Chicago.  In two months Jo and I will be moving away to continue the support raising process for Central Asia.  My heart already grieves for the loss of my friend: this city.  Sure, it's a place that frustrates me from time to time and shakes me around like a rag doll, leaving me at the door step of the apartment entent on simply going to bed.  It is a place of darkness and bondage.  Evil has made it's abode, securely fastened on the rich as well as the poor; they both are beaten down through idolatry.  And the chocolate smell that often goes out across the city from the factory has the 50/50 potential of smelling like chocolate, or like vomit.  Such is the deception of sin!

But, nevertheless, I like it.  God is here.  His love pours out constantly.  

When I arrived in 2004 the city streets seemed vague and dark.  Now, through connecting neighborhoods by means of familiarity, it's become a place of fluid motion.  Cars, people, sounds, and lights often create in me a feeling of exhilaration, as though the city were built upon a great wave of the ocean.  This is all best experienced, of course, in the plain view of a woman greatly loved.  Jo and I have all our beginning memories here in Chicago.  

God's desire for Man to live initiated this amazing life experience.  Indeed, Chicago, we will miss you!  

As humanity creates a culture in this midwestern city, might God break down injustice, establish His peace, and instill in this land the need and Means for Forgiveness.