Maybe You Should Fly A Jet...

   You know one thing I've always wondered?  There's this one question that grownups ask children from the time that they're tiny.  "So what do you want to be when you grow up?" 

   Yeah, yeah, I mean, it's interesting and fun if you ask them when they're tiny because sometimes they say something really cute.  "Uh, I want to be a shark."  ???  But grownups asked me that all up into high school, and then it changed to, "Where are you going to college?" 

   I don't know about you, but I always feel sorry for the poor 10 year old who is being asked that question and understands the significance of it.  What if they Don't Know?  Or maybe they know what they would like to do, but think nobody will take them seriously?  Why do grownups do that?  Don't they know it's awkward?   

   When I was old enough to understand the significance of that question, I always tried to evade it.  There were three things that I wanted to be, but I never could really decide between them.  My conscience told me that I should be a "Missionary," but I could never be completely enthusiastic about it.  I didn't understand at the time that we are all to be missionaries, wherever we are.  What my heart truly yearned for was to be an actress.  But how do you say that to one of your parents' friends who's asking you this in front of your family?  "I want to be a movie star."  They would've laughed at me!  Plus I felt my parents would be ashamed, if not scandalized if I said such a thing.

   Perhaps there's some reason for that.  I know I was a drama queen when I was little.  I probably embarrassed my parents on more than one occasion out in public.  Truth is, I love the spotlight.  I always have.  When I hit my teen years, I began to think the amount of spotlight you had in anything was directly proportional to how selfish you were.  So I became a shy, insecure wallflower.  But that desire has never gone away.  I would love to be an actress, on the stage or on the screen.  I've always felt sure that I have what it takes.  And, to tell you the truth, if I wasn't so afraid to be myself, I would be a tiger.  But right now, you'd never know it, and I'd be afraid to show you.

   I've always loved choreography and songs from musicals.  The more I learn about the theater, the more I'm enchanted by it.  I love movie magic, but when I learn too much about it, it spoils it for me.  So I just observe things like the camera angles, the effects, the scenery, the music of course, and the mannerisms and gestures of the actors.  I watch the underdogs and the people in the background.  How do they manage to communicate to the audience what the character is really thinking without giving it all away in their tone of voice?  That tilt of the head, that flash of their eyes, that little movement of their finger.  I always watch and learn, even if I never have the chance to use it.

   It's not that I think all Christians should shrink back from the arts these days.  In fact, I wish more Christians would get involved in them.  We have more important things to communicate, and it could be portrayed in fact or fiction or fantasy...or..perhaps even in science fiction?  I wouldn't be the mind behind that, but I believe it can be done.  C.S. Lewis did it in his Space Trilogy.  (Yeah...did you know C.S. Lewis wrote some science fiction?  He does it masterfully.  Go read 'em!!!)  It's just that I don't think God is calling me to be an actress.  It's a cut-throat world, and it drips with the filth and grime of the World.  And yet I must admit, I often ache inside wondering why God ever gave me those desires if He doesn't want me to use them for His glory.  I don't want to be selfish, and I don't want the glory, though it would be great to be appreciated for something I love to do...

   When I played my violin in a secular youth orchestra, I used to go on stage and pray, "Lord, this is for You.  Tonight I'm playing for Your glory.  I give you every note, I give you my fingers, and I give you my soul.  Let this be pleasing to You, and let me worship You as I play."  I think that's what God wants from us what ever we do.  I'll never forget feeling God's pleasure on me as I lost myself in the music and in His glory.  I just wish with all my heart that I could give Him pleasure in all the things I do or long to do!  Acting, singing, dancing...and writing. 

   But more of that later! 

~Cadenza   

First Taste of Fantasy

     It's funny, but I just discovered that the title of my blog actually reflects my whole motif about longing for adventure with familiarity.  Tigers, representing the exotic and adventures...and tea, the coziness of familiarity and home and simple pleasures.  Like curling up in a soft chair with a cup of hot tea at your elbow and "The Silmarillion" on your lap....AHHH!  Well, I haven't finished that book yet.  My copy was too heavy to take with me to India, but I sped (as well as I could) so I could finish the tale of Beren and Luthien before I left.  Wow, seriously, that book is one of the best things I've ever read, and I haven't even finished it yet!  C.S. Lewis is probably my favorite author, but I have to admit that Tolkien is the master of fantasy.  I used to think no fantasy could ever top the Narnia series, but I'm afraid Tolkien's books do.  Not that Narnia is anything to sneeze at.  "May it never be!" as the apostle Paul would say.  *grin*  I love Narnia for itself...I just mean I think Tolkien's works are better as far as "fantasy" goes. 

   By the way, did I ever tell you that I read the first two Narnia books to Brownie and Bud while I was there?  Yeah...and I started with "The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe."  Then I immediately began "Prince Caspian."  I don't really think it would be so bad if you started with, "The Magician's Nephew," but I had to consider my audience.  A seven and five year old...hmmmm. 

   It was a good thing I did, too.  "What's a wardrobe?"  "What's a professor?"  "Now who is Susan again?"  And that was the first book.  In the second book, I nearly tore my hair out trying to explain what was going on.  Not because they didn't just know, but because I was trying my hardest to help them understand, and nothing was working!  It was horrible!  And....have you ever tried to explain the treachery of the Lords Glozelle and Sopespian to a seven and five year old?  Oh.  My.  Gosh. 

   But, you know, that's okay!  Sure it was frustrating for me, but the whole idea was to give them their first taste of fantasy.  That was thrilling for me.  No, of course they couldn't understand it all; that wasn't the point.  If they understood some of it and liked it, then they'll want more as they get older, and they'll probably read the rest of them!  I remember my first taste of fantasy was when my father read those books aloud to us when we were little.  My brother cried when Aslan was killed, and I was devastated.  And yeah, in Prince Caspian, I didn't have a clue what was going on.  But what little I could understand, and the even fewer bits that stuck with me were beautiful.  Even if I couldn't understand, I just loved hearing my father read to us.  It was a special time.  Same with my mother.  I can't begin to count how many books my mother read aloud to us when we were kids.  She picked wonderful books.  She read us "Pollyanna," and "Anne of Green Gables," "Freckles," "Girl of the Limberlost," "Laddie," ( <3 )  the "Curdie" books, "The Five Children and It," "The Phoenix and the Carpet," and "A Little Princess," to name a few.  They both did different voices for different characters, and we all laughed and quoted them together.  All of us kids ended as bookworms, and all of us love fantasy.  Looking at the big picture, having a tough time explaining things is nothing in comparison with the chance of giving children their first taste of fantasy.
 
   I found out pretty quickly once I was there that fantasy was not D. or S.'s "thing."  I mean, they read fairytales to the children and had lots of storybooks...so nothing to be too concerned about....*grin*  D. told me that he was not read to as a child (.."oh, you poor deprived child!), and, as he said, "Fantasy has nothing to do with life, so...why?"  That's pretty much how S. feels too.  They are amazing godly people, and I guess what I get from fantasy they just get naturally from their Bibles; or, perhaps, they just don't need what I get from fantasy.  I don't know.  I can't really imagine being like that.  But they, especially S., wanted them to be introduced to Narnia. 

   I wish I could go on to explain how fantasy is truly relevant to our world, but I can't.  I didn't know how to explain it to them, and I still don't.  To me, as I've mentioned before, fantasy is more real than the world I see around me.  Fantasy helps me understand the world, and it gives me strength to face each battle.  While I love familiarity and comforts, I have a certain horror of normality.  By which I guess I mean monotony.  I don't want to just cruise through life.  I want my life to count for something.  I want to have adventures and make an impact on people's lives.  I may never step through a wardrobe or save a world, but to live your life for Christ is true greatness.

   Oh, and one more thing.  Tigers are also cool to me for two different reasons.  One is that the stuffed tiger shown behind my blog name is a special buddy of mine.  He's Purr, who I've mentioned before.  Several years ago, my sister and I "saved up our money," so we could buy a Pillow Pal.  (Remember those, 90's kids?)  Mother took us to the store, and the whole back wall had shelves full of Pillow Pals. 
  
   I marched confidently forward.  I had eleven whole dollars, and I knew just exactly what little friend I wanted.  Waves, the orca.  I scanned the shelves.  Then...there on the left just at my level was a pile of beautiful tigers.  I stared at them.  Tigers!  Reluctantly I drew my eyes away and continued looking for the Waves-es.  There they were, far out of my reach at the top.  I looked back at the tigers.  A tiger would be much nicer to cuddle than a whale.  I wavered; after all I had been sure I'd wanted Waves.  Would I regret it?  I opened one of the tiger's tags to see the name.  Purr.  Purr the tiger.  My heart melted, and doubt vanished.  I pulled the one that looked most appealing out of the pile, and I paid for him and went home proud as punch.  My sister had found the sweetest rabbit named Clover, but when I looked at Purr, I didn't envy her a bit.  I've never regretted it since.  Purr is my special buddy, and I (shhh, don't tell anyone) still sleep with him every night.

   Tigers are also special to me because my brother introduced me to Calvin and Hobbes before I could read.  We spent hours together poring over Calvin and Hobbes books.  He would read them to me and explain them if he could.  I would follow along by studying the pictures, and most of the time, I could tell who was saying what.  Lots of times we didn't understand the punch lines, and I couldn't understand every one he tried to explain.  But we had fun together, and so the tradition continued.  Once I learned to read, we'd take turns reading the different characters.  We got new books for Christmas and birthdays, and we devoured them together.  And of course, as we got older, we grew in our understanding, and would laugh ourselves sick in earnest.  I'm convinced that Calvin and Hobbes has got to be the greatest comic ever, and I loved how I had my own stuffed tiger just like Calvin did.  We screamed in laughter over the brilliant pictures and expressions, and of course we were quick to memorize whole pages.  But the real fun came when we were older and began to see connections between daily situations and Calvin and Hobbes comics.  We would think of the same one at precisely the same instant, and we'd look at each other and say the punch line, or just burst out laughing.  It drove our parents crazy sometimes, but to me it was the wonderfullest thing in the world.  Until the same thing started happening with all our siblings in all the movies, books, and tapes that we shared.  Everything had some connection, and each of us got it.  Three of us are adults now, and the other two are teenagers, but we still can get lost in our own language.  Having a family like mine is one of the greatest blessings that God gave me.

~Cadenza

Spring

   Well, my friends!  Spring is here!  I was about to say, "is coming," but all the Bradford Pear trees here are in full bloom, and the Saucer Magnolia trees are blooming, too.  Add to that, it's March, so in my mind, Spring is here! 

   It's so warm today.  The sunlight hurts my eyes if I let it into my room too strongly.  I think that says something about my indoorsy tendency.  Well, no matter.  I went tromping all in the woods behind my house yesterday, and enjoyed it immensly. 

   I'm afraid I can't write as Nice a tribute to Spring as well as I did for Winter.  Well, I'll try to make it Nice if I can. 

   The main holiday in Springtime is Easter, of course.  So if you're in a church choir, like me, then mid-January you're already rehearsing songs for Easter or Good Friday.  I came home in February, so I'm rather behind on all my music, but I am eagerly anticipating performing them all. 

   When I was younger, our family would visit our Dad's mother for Easter weekend.  She moved in with us a few years ago, so we don't do that anymore.  Every Spring brings back memories of those days.  She lived in a small town in a house that had lots of yard space.  I remember Daddy and my brother throwing a football around in the yard for hours.  Daddy taught all of us girls how to throw and catch a Foxtail.  I was fairly good at it myself.  But what I remember most is wandering around in the yard with my siblings on those long afternoons.  Sometimes we'd all play together and sometimes we'd each wander around quietly.  A train track ran across from the house, and whenever we heard a whistle, we'd come tearing around to the front to count the engines. 

   It's such an amazing thing.  When children play, they have no concept of time.  Time is their friend in the play-world.  You can fast forward time or rewind to fix something you'd done earlier.  And in a child's real world, time is real enough, but time doesn't dominate their universe.  The grownups are always telling you it's time to do something else, and you have to go along with it, but they are always sure of "next time."  Well, today we couldn't finish sinking that treasure ship before supper, but we'll do it tomorrow.  What I remember about those days at Grandmommy's house were the long afternoons that felt like eternity.  I recall the golden sunshine, the waving shadows from the enormous tree in the yard, the deep green grass, the blue sky, and the immense tranquility over everything.  Time was not.

   Now that I'm older, I don't get that sensation very often.  I suppose I feel it most in Spring and Summer.  And usually it happens when I'm remembering my childhood. 

   Each season is much the same as the last year it was here, but it never fails to be brand-new to me every time it comes.  The fragrance of the hyacinths, the budding and blooming of the trees, the return of color and sunshine never fail to transport me with their familiar novelty.  Of course we don't really know what Heaven and the New Earth will be like, but I'm convinced it will be a world where Familiarity and Novelty are reconciled at last.  Where Adventure and Freedom lives with Familiarity and Comfort.  And, of course, a world where time is no more.

   Each season promises me something that it never fully delivers on.  Springtime promises me undying youth.  Something in the smells and feel of Springtime makes me feel that I'll be young forever.   Of course, looking at it from a normal perspective I shouldn't believe it.  If I live long enough in this world, I will grow old and eventually die.  Of course a few scents on the wind can't stop that from happening, but Scripture does say that God has "placed eternity into men's hearts."  It makes us think about and long for eternal life in a perfect world where time is not.  I think it's part of God's general grace to men.  To me it does more than stir up longing.  It transports me with joy because I know that I'm headed to a place where all that will come true. 

   I wonder, can any Christian grow old on the inside if they are still rejoicing in their Salvation?  Yeah, life is sick sometimes, but this isn't all there is!  The reason we are not content in this world is because our Heavenly Father won't let us be!  He loves us too much to let us be content with the World and its toys.  He wants to give us the very best--Himself--and he won't let us dig our roots in too deep or invest all our treasure here. 

   One song to leave you guys with.  I love ThePianoGuys!  This song, "All of Me," is pure joy!  Enjoy!

 Take heart, fellow travelers!  And let Spring remind you of the New Eden that is coming to us! 

~Cadenza

Hear Ye, Cyberspace!

   I don't know how many people are still reading my blog, but for those of you who are, I have decided to keep writing and posting!! 

   I think the time has come to commit.  It's the only way I can commit myself enough to expect others to read my blog!  Okay, here goes...for now, I commit to a new post every week!!  

   Better post next time!

~Cadenza