2020 In Hindsight

   So...this year's been rough for everybody.  I think we can all agree there.  To me, it was like three years' worth of events got crammed into one.  I want to take a quick look back just before 2021 begins.  

   Remember how in the Old Testament God's people balked at going into the Promised Land because of the giants?  You know the story, the whole assembly of the people wept in despair and whined that they should never have left Egypt because God "had brought them out there to die."  God rejected that entire generation; and because of Moses' disobedience, even he wasn't allowed into the Promised Land.  However, when it was time for Joshua to lead them into the Promised Land, the Lord says something very interesting.  He reminds them that He took care of them in the wilderness; their shoes did not wear out, and they didn't go hungry.  

   They were wandering in the wilderness as punishment, yes, but God has a different perspective.  He was taking care of every little detail, even when they weren't seeking after Him.  Earlier this year, as I came across that story in the Bible, it stuck out to me.  I want to notice all the ways God takes care of me, even when I don't think I'm where I need to be.

  So let's begin in January.  A new year is always scary for me.  Other people see it as a time of a fresh start or a new beginning.  I can't fool myself into thinking that.  It's just daunting.  I have no delusions about becoming perfect in the coming year.  I know I'm just going to mess up and bungle things, just like the year before.  Yeah, I'm going to learn new things and grow, and that's all well and good, but...it's not gonna be pretty.

   Right.  Maybe I'm a bit of a freak for feeling that way every new year, but it is true.  So.

   Ahem, January.  2020, here we go.  

   In February, we started hearing that COVID-19 had reached the U.S.  I wasn't worried.  I wash my hands all the time, all year round.  I don't go to work if I'm sick, and I stay home until I've been fever-free for 24 hours.  Whatever.  A little common sense, and we'll all be fine.  

   But people panicked and started impulse buying.  I am exceedingly grateful that my roomies and I bought toilet paper in bulk from Sam's just before the shortage!  Thank goodness we were able to hold out until people were more reasonable.

   Halfway through February, something else happened.  My grandmother who lived with my parents had a stroke.  She was hospitalized two days later.  

   My Grandmommy, who has always been a spunky lady with a sunny disposition suddenly was unable to speak.  She tried, but it was like she couldn't remember how to form the words, or else her mouth wouldn't move the right way to make them.  It was heartbreaking.  

  But she's one tough lady.  She's had a long life, and it wasn't a very easy one.  She was 99 years old.  With some speech therapy she regained her speech again, but it was clear she needed constant care.  We entrusted her to a very nice facility, and we went to visit her as she recovered. 

   Meanwhile in February, one of my back teeth started acting crazily.  I have had sensitive teeth for years, but this was different.  All at once it couldn't handle heat or cold...or any amount of pressure.  I couldn't chew on it without horrifying pain.  Every doctor's office was closed, along with pretty much everything else as our economy came to a grinding halt. The pain steadily worsened, unlike anything I've ever felt.  Tooth pain has to be in the top five worst possible pains.  There are so many nerve endings in your mouth, and you can't use massage to ease it.  Whether I was using that tooth or not made no difference; the pain constantly radiated into my other muscles.  There was referred pain down my arm and into my back and neck.  I took pain medicine with absolute punctuality.  I called my dentist.  He told me it sounded like I needed an emergency root canal.  I had to wait for the day of my appointment.

   I couldn't eat or sleep through the excruciating pain.  All the pain medicine it was safe to take could only dull the pain enough for me to function at low capacity.  Which is to say, the two hours where the medicine was at its full strength barely touched it.  Then for the next two hours before I could take anything else, I was in constant debilitating pain.  

   The pain and lack of sleep pushed me to the limits of my sanity.  I couldn't think clearly, I couldn't do anything.  I just laid in bed and wept helplessly.

   That night when everything was at its worst, my brother came to my house in the wee hours of the morning and took care of me.  (My mother couldn't come because she was quarantined, or else she'd have been there!)  My brother rubbed my back, held my hand, and kept ice on my jaw until I finally fell asleep.  He made himself a pallet on my floor, and he set himself alarms to make sure I got my medicine on time.  He was there like an anchor in a storm, holding me steady, comforting me, tethering me to reality.

   I had that emergency root canal, and never was there a more willing patient!  They numbed me down so that at last I felt no more pain.  Then they dug up all the nerve tissue that had died.  A few months later I had a crown installed.  Thank the Lord above for good dentists!!  

   In March and April, even our church shut down temporarily.  I was still able to go to work every day, but without church, a huge part of my spiritual and social life was missing.  I and my roommates were restless and uneasy.  Everything to do with Easter was cancelled, which was unheard of.  But thankfully, one of the young single men in our church set up a virtual Bible Study on Zoom, and all of us pounced upon it eagerly.  It was an enormous blessing in the months to come.  

   My mental timeline gets pretty scrambled at this point, so the rest of this may be way out of order.  But that's okay.  

   I actually got to go to the beach with my two roommates before one of them moved out.  It was a lovely time, and now I get why people love the beach so much.  It was delightful, but in my heart I'm still a mountains girl.  The beach is marvelous, but I'll always love the majesty and privacy and wild beauty of forests on the mountainsides best.  

   A new friend of ours moved in, and it's been great getting to know her.  I highly recommend living with roommates if you have ones as mature and as generous as mine! 

   The first week of July I got a dreadful surprise.  My bladder was refusing to work properly.

   I'll be as discreet as possible.  I just woke up one day and my bladder refused to void.  I've had this happen off and on for the past two years, without any sort of pattern.  Eventually it would function again, and things would go back to normal.  Not this time.  My bladder swelled and swelled, but nothing could make it empty.  

  I tried everything.  Absolutely nothing could give me relief.  I was in horrifying, miserable discomfort before I finally agreed to go to the emergency room.  I had to wait all alone in that cold waiting room for hours before I could be seen.  I just remember praying and praying, rocking back and forth, doing my utmost to be patient.  I had brought a blanket with me from home, and I clutched it to my chest, letting its softness and warmth comfort me.

   It's difficult to explain, but I felt at peace, deep inside.  I was scared and writhing in pain, but I could feel the Lord's presence with me in a special way.  It really was a peace that went beyond understanding.  I just felt assurance that He was right there with me, that I wasn't alone.  

   They had to put a catheter in to drain my bladder.  They told me I had 900 milliliters of fluid in my bladder!  I didn't even know a bladder could hold that much! 

   The incident repeated a few days later, and I had to go back to the ER.  They sent me home with a catheter in, which was awful, but still not as bad as a constantly full bladder.  It was also my time of month, and I had to get tested for COVID-19 because the three of us had been exposed.  I felt a little bit like poor Job.  

   We had to tell everyone what was up with us.  We told our small group in church and the young adults group, and immediately, I'm talking seconds later, folks were replying asking us what we needed, offering to get us groceries and organizing meals for us.  We felt so loved, so seen.  I hate to say it, but sometimes we single folks get a raw deal in church.  There aren't usually ministries for our needs, and we're expected to help in every other ministry and service opportunity, "because we have so much time."  To see our church body stepping in to take care of us three single gals meant the world to us. 

   Usually I can look to my family for things like this, but this year that wasn't possible.  One of my sisters has a suppressed immune system, and since she lives with my parents, they've been quarantined for most of the year.  Still, all of us have united every time we could, and I believe we've grown stronger this year because of it.  

   Anyway, I had to start seeing a urologist and a gynecologist to try to figure out what was causing all this in my bladder.  (Also I was having to self cath every time it happened!  Jesus, take the wheel!!)  We eventually found out that a massive cyst had been growing inside me, and it was so heavy that it sometimes would...block off the flow.  There was a very tense day or two while we waited to find out if it was cancerous or benign, but thank the Lord it was benign!

   It was too big to remove laparoscopically, so we had to schedule a full-on surgery with a month recovery time.  Welp...okay.  October 5th, here we go. 

   At some point during the summer I was exposed again to COVID-19, so there were two more weeks of quarantine.  Thankfully my work compensated me since I was exposed while I was there!

   Also during the summer, one of the Young Adults started up a "Quarantine Caroling."  He made a list of folks that hadn't been able to be in church, and a group of us would go to visit them on summer evenings to stand in their yard and sing hymns with them.  It was a fun time, and I think we were as blessed as the folks were!

   Meanwhile, my Grandmommy's nursing home had to be closed to all visitors shortly after COVID reached our state.  We couldn't go inside at all.  We had to mask up, call to have her wheeled to a window, and then try to talk with her through the window screen.  Eventually they refused to open the window for us.  They had us on speakerphone and gave her the phone, but she didn't know how to hold it properly.  We did our best to communicate.  There were good days and bad days.  I was always glad that we'd visited her, but it just broke my heart that things had come to this.  She got confused a lot, and she wanted to go home.  Sometimes she was sad, and we couldn't even hold her hand to comfort her.  It was clear to us that she was declining fast.

   Then, on the second of September, the Lord called her home.  She had made it to her one hundredth birthday that May.  She was a tough little lady, but she was ready to meet her Savior.  She went peacefully in her sleep.

   My Grandmommy left quite a legacy behind her.  She always faced life bravely and steadily, no matter what it threw at her.  She loved her son, my father, devotedly.  For as far back as I can remember, Grandmommy was always there for every family event.  Every Christmas, every Easter, every recital, performance, concert, graduation, every celebration, every birthday, every holiday, you name it, she was there.  She loved each of us, and she was beloved by all.  She lived well; she had so much spunk and vivacity that she kept us all in stitches when she told stories.  And she loved Jesus Christ with a simple, childlike faith that never wavered in all her long years.  

   "A good name is better than riches, and favor rather than silver or gold," Proverbs tells us.  My Grandmommy had a good name.  She left a righteous heritage behind her.  It was sad when she left us, but deep inside I felt joy throbbing in my heart all the rest of that day.  I knew she was with Jesus, and that all her suffering was over forever.  She'll never be lonely, or weak, or in pain again.  She had fought the good fight, she'd finished the course, she'd kept the faith.  I'll see her again someday.  I know I'll hear that laugh of hers once more, when the Lord calls me home.

   When September drew to a close, I needed to be quarantined once more to be ready for my surgery.  My parents let me move in with them until I got better.  My surgery went well, and there were no complications.  Recovery was slow, but steady.  

   Well, I did have a staph infection flare-up just before my surgery.  I had a hellish experience with staph two years ago, so I was calling my doctor's office for antibiotics the day after I realized that it wasn't an innocent whitehead on my chin.  Staph before surgery!  I just looked in my mirror and thought, "Really?  This too?"  Thank the Lord the first round of antibiotics worked!  And that it didn't cause the surgery to be postponed!    

  Looking back, I see how God has taken care of me this year, and how much I've grown through this.  I trust the Lord more, and I am closer to Him than I was the year before.  When you're in that much pain, He is the only thing to fall back on.  

   One thing that's become increasingly clear to me over this year is that I'm still very insecure about Christ's love for me.  Oh, I know He does...I do believe the promises He makes.  Well, technically, anyway.  It's too big an issue to get into at the end of a blog post, but it's an insecurity that I want to face going into 2021.  I've known for a while that it ran deep in me, but I can see now that it affects everything about me.  The way I pray, how I pray, my bent toward cynicism, my procrastination, and how prone I am to despair and lethargy.  All of it stems from this twisted view of God that has lodged within me since childhood.  I know that at the root, it's only plain, ugly unbelief.  It's high time I started fighting those battles.  

   Well, thanks for reading!  Don't forget to count your blessings in 2020 before you toss it away in disgust.  You might find that what you thought was wandering pointlessly in the wilderness was God's kind provision after all.  

   Happy New Year!

 

~Cadenza         

Show Yourself (part 2)

   I solemnly promise up front not to retell the entire plot of Frozen 2.  That is not the purpose of this post, so I will keep exposition to a minimum.  

   **Spoilers ahead**  

   Frozen 2 delighted me.  The aesthetic or "atmosphere" of the setting is one I find incredibly appealing.  Just the words, "the Enchanted Forest," make my heart thrill with excitement.  The tall, slim trees of the mountains, all bedecked in their Autumn splendor, the Celtic influence of the patterns and runes, and, of course, the wild call of the unknown speaks to me in my hearts' native tongue.  

   The song, "Show Yourself," is the song Elsa sings as she travels across the Dark Sea alone, toward the mysterious island of Ahtohallan.  Her mother once told her that there was a mysterious entity within its river that held the source of all magic, wisdom, and memory.  Her parents had died on their voyage to Ahtohallan; they had been seeking answers about their daughter's magical abilities.  Now that Elsa was Queen of Arendelle, and had learned to use her magic without fear, a strange Voice has been calling her incessantly, irresistibly.  And now, at last she is able to land upon the shore to answer the summons.  She sings: 

   "Every inch of me is trembling, but not from the cold.

   Something is familiar, like a dream I can reach but not quite hold.

   I can sense you there, like a friend I've always known.

   I'm arriving, and it feels like I am home.

   I have always been a fortress, cold secrets deep inside.  

   You have secrets too, but you don't have to hide.

   Show yourself, I'm dying to meet you.

   Show yourself, it's your turn.

   Are you the one I've been looking for all of my life?

   Show yourself, I'm ready to learn."  

 

   Oh, there's so much going on in this scene.  Where do I even begin?  

    It's not necessarily Christian imagery, mind.  But there are all kinds of archetypal themes going on here.

   I love the image of an island at the end of the world.  You see this kind of thing in fantasy and fiction.  There's a place, however remote, that feels like home, and you can, conceivably, reach it, through great difficulties.  Sometimes in the stories it's portrayed as a tropical, paradisaical sort of place.  The idea of South.  Or perhaps it's to the East, toward the Sunrise, journeying toward the end of the world.  Or maybe it's an island far, far to the West, a far green country with white shores.  In this story, the island is a Northern Island.  A glacier, a frozen place, pure and undefiled.  

   I love the whole concept of the hero's Journey.  Everyone does.  The stories all tell us that to find answers we must seek them out.  We must ask questions and follow where the trail leads us.  So many plots of stories center around this idea.  Sometimes the search is for redemption and regaining of honor.  (Think superhero movies such as Iron-man and Thor.)  Sometimes it's the pursuit of the truth.  (Think thrillers and crime movies: "What really happened that night?"  "What's actually going on amid all these secrets?") 

   In Fantasy stories, abstract or metaphysical concepts are displayed as physical things.  People's characters and personalities are displayed on the outside, usually portrayed in their physical appearance; race, voice, etc.  Elves, Dwarves, Hobbits, Faeries, Goblins, Animals, and so on.  It is common in fantasy to have a physical place in a world that you can go for answers, and usually a dangerous, winding road is the only way to it.  Most of the inhabitants of the world are too afraid to brave it; they're content to stay unquestioningly in their little homes and communities for the rest of their lives.  But when someone is in great need, or has a question that must be answered, or when someone is simply restless with curiosity, they take to the Road to search for truth, willing to risk any danger to find it.  Not every fantasy is meant to be allegorical, that is, every aspect having a concrete and specific meaning.  Still, certain patterns are generally followed.  The best archetypal themes are the ones that can be found from Scripture, and the Christian tradition.  

   That was not the intention of the creators of Frozen 2, I'm sure.  Nor is it usually the intention of many story-tellers in today's culture (more's the pity.)           

   I love the concept of a Voice that sends out a ringing call, an invitation to follow.  A sweet voice, pure and otherworldly, inviting all who hear it to come.  I recognize that concept; it is already familiar and dear to me. 

   I love the idea of the Truth being a Person.  There is someone to ask the questions to, and to receive real answers from!  Further, it's the Person or Entity of Truth that is the one doing the calling...now isn't that a lovely, fantastical idea?

   In this story, the Entity of Truth is also the Source of all power, magic, and knowledge.  It's a powerful Person.  I am drawn by the idea that once the summons is obeyed, real help can be found there.  Not just a man working pumps and levers behind a curtain.

   There is this idea that one must make sense of and make peace with the past in order to be a complete, mature person.  Perhaps even to be Healed.  Elsa realizes that there is a unique purpose for her life, some task that it is her destiny to do, something for which she was given magic to perform.  But she can't know what that is until she finds out the truth about her past.  If something needs to be undone, she must understand how things went wrong at the beginning.  And that's why she's here, journeying tirelessly into the unknown, answering the summons, obedient to the call; she's looking for the answers, or rather, the One who holds the answers.  

   Hmm.  I like that concept, too.  

   She enters into an ice structure within the mountain.  Steps of ice lead to the entrance.  Inside she finds passageways that are lit with the colors of the Elements who have been guiding her throughout her journey.  They race along the inside of the ice, beckoning her on.  And always that Voice, calling out, responding to her, inviting her further in.

   "I've never felt so certain!  All my life I've been torn

   But I'm here for a reason!  Could it be the reason I was born?

   I have always been so different, normal rules did not apply.

   Is this the day?  Are you the way I finally find out why?

   Show yourself!  I'm no longer trembling!  

   Here I am, I've come so far! 

   You are the answer I've waited for all of my life!

   Oh, show yourself!  Let me see who you are..!"  

   As she runs delightedly on, she finds fallen pillars of ice obstructing her way.  With her magic, she lifts them and places them upright with ease.  

   And...they place themselves like pillars lining the sides of a massive cavern.  It's reminiscent of a temple, or, better, a cathedral...the ice glows with light from within. 

   Then, at the far end there is another doorway, obstructed by a veil of mist.  The same mist from the borders of the Enchanted Forest, which yielded to none but her.  Without hesitation she reaches into it, and the curtain instantly disintegrates under her touch.  

   We almost get the sense of entering into the Holy of Holies.  

   "Come to me now," she sings

   "Open your door.

   Don't make me wait one moment more!"  

 

   The symbols of the Elements arrange themselves on the floor, with an empty space in the center.  That's when Elsa understands.  She is the Fifth spirit that the Northuldra told her of.  A Spirit who would serve as the bridge to unite the countries of the Northuldra and Arendelle.

   When she steps into that space, scenes from her mother's past appear on the walls of the cavern all around her.  

   "Come my darling, homeward bound," we hear the voice of Elsa's mother sing.

   And, through tears, Elsa's jubilant cry, "I am found!"  

 

   And then.  

   Then, in the middle of all this rich symbolism, at the very climax of the song, at the critical reveal and the very heart of Elsa's character development...the key changes, and Elsa and the Voice sing: 

   "Show yourself, step into your power

   Grow yourself into something new!

   You are the one you've been waiting for

   All of your/my life

   Show yourself!"  

 

   What a shabby trick.  What a cheap bait-and-switch.  After drawing me in with such beautiful promises of meeting the One who holds the answers, the Voice of Truth...does not show itself!  What we find in this Holy of Holies is...self-actualization.  "The answer has been within you all the time!  You are all you need!  Don't ask for the Voice to show Itself...You must show yourself for who you truly are and have been this whole time!" 

   To be sure, they portray it gorgeously.  Her transformation is riveting, the music stunning, the colors and lights mesmerizing.  Elsa is, for all intents and purposes, a goddess who is finally at peace with who she is.  Perfected and mature and healed...by simply allowing herself to be the magical creature she always was...

   You can show this kind of thing in a fantasy story, but it doesn't work in real life.  Self-actualization cannot fulfill the way it claims it can.

   But it's just a story, right?  Just part of the make-believe that doesn't matter?  No.  This is a powerful, thematic scene and the heart of the entire plot!  It is shown to be important, desirable.  And it's a message that goes directly against what is true.  

   It makes me want to weep.  So much beauty, so much potential...and they knew how to make you believe it!  Did you notice that?  They knew exactly the kinds of things to say at the beginning of the song to draw you in and stir your longings.  But then they switched it out for the worship of Self.

   Such a subtle lie mixed in with the idea of the Journey.  The idea that you can Heal yourself, grow yourself into perfection...in fact, the promise of salvation, fulfillment, peace.  This...alas!  This is what is portrayed for our young children, particularly girls, to seek after! 

   If I was a poet, I would write a lament over this.  Oh, how seldom do we Christians ever get to see the full Truth portrayed with such beauty and skill!  We have to content ourselves with half-glimpses here and there...and even those mostly accidental, because it is never the creators' intention to show us Christ in His majesty.  

   There is something inherently true about how the Journey is supposed to transform you.  This is what happened to me in my twenty-second year.  I had been a Christian since I was six years old.  I had been growing and learning for many years.  But I read this book titled, "Captivating," by John and Staci Eldredge, and it changed my perspective on many, many things.  

   It's a book about Biblical Womanhood, and easily the most helpful, enlightening book I have yet found on the subject.  I would recommend it to any and every woman.  Never fear, it's Gospel-centered.  

   The book is all about God's design for Woman.  Her nature, her soul, her Role in this world.  A life-giver, a life-sustainer, a nurturer.  And then it turns to how hated she is by Satan and his hosts.  How they and other sinners in this world always assault her soul and wound her, answering her questions with accusations and shame.  And how each of us embrace those messages in our fallen, sinful nature, and how we set about to control or hide ourselves from further hurt by shutting God out of our lives.  

   And of course, the answer is to run to Christ.  To take our brokenness, our wounds, our insecurities, and all the mess we've made of our lives, and throw ourselves on Christ and His mercy.  To surrender to Him; to be found by Him.  To let Him undo the harm that we and others have done, to let Him heal us and make sense of our past and answer our questions with His Word.  

   I read this book, and I wept.  Both in grief and joy.  And, even though I have been His child for a very long time, I started asking Him to reveal to me what He saw when He looked at me, and not the lies I had been believing.  

   When you let God into the messy parts of your soul, you find that He heals and answers your questions.  And I can personally attest, it is a radiant transformation.  The healing of my deep wounds had begun, the emotional maturity I had been so stunted in had begun.  Now that I was starting to see myself through God's perspective, I was indeed transformed with an understanding of and delight in my femininity.  And there came a deep peace...the kind of peace the world and the worship of self promises, but never fulfills.

   I am reminded of that in both of Elsa's transformations; in Frozen 1 and 2.  When you find the Truth and embrace it, there no longer remains any shame or fear.  It is the end of slavery, the beginning of the end of the Reign of Fear.

   I suppose that's why I take it so personally in the song "Show Yourself."  I know the truth, and I have experienced it...and this ain't it!  It's palming off a cheap forgery as the way to freedom, when it is nothing more than the same old bondage.  I can never quite enjoy the song when it comes to that key change, and I never will.  

   I long for the day when the One who is called Faithful and True comes revealed with all the hosts of heaven with power and great glory.  My Savior, my Healer, my Friend.  My Advocate, my Redeemer, my Captain, my Father, and King.

   The best stories all have one thing in common:  Good always wins in the end.

   And because Jesus' blood has paid my ransom...that's a happy ending if ever there was one.            

~Cadenza 

Show Yourself (part 1)

   This post has been burning on my heart for a year; ever since I saw "Frozen 2".  I've been hesitant to write it because I know that people have been over the "Frozen" craze since "Let It Go," smashed its way into everyone's lives in 2014.  One half of the population was instigating it, and the other half was sick of it after the opening week.  The same applies for the song, "Into The Unknown." 

   I sympathize, I truly do.  But I have to write about this.  This is one of those times where the beauty that I see compels me to share it with others.  However, before I begin, this will require some explanation to insure that I am not misunderstood.  I will have to wait for the next post to share what I see.  This post will be devoted to an unfortunate, but necessary bit of demolition around Disney movies such as "Frozen."  

   I'm sure you've noticed that the very word "Disney," has become so overloaded with different meanings that a certain cynical disdain for them and for the people who enjoy them has become popular.  For example, you've probably heard things like:    

   "That's not real life!  I don't want my kids growing up expecting their lives to be like a Disney movie!"

    "Aren't you just SICK of a woman getting saved by a MAN?  It's insulting to women!"  

   "I hate how they show marriage as being the answer to all their problems!"

   Or perhaps the more subtle, but very real embarrassment people display when they accidentally own up to still being familiar with a character of an animated movie they grew up with.  I'm sure you've seen that.  The reason is that "animation" is inextricably linked in their minds with "childhood."  Thus the idea that any familiarity with a "cartoon" shows that they must still be lacking mental maturity. 

   As the comedian John Mulaney might say, "Now, we don't have time to unpack ALL of that--!"  But, if I intend to be taken seriously, I think I should at least briefly lay out a few rebuttals to such sentiments.  

   First of all, I've never understood why grownups compelled themselves to be ashamed of feeling a fondness for, or at the very least a sense of nostalgia over animated movies or cartoons they grew up watching.  I mean, Pixar creates movies that are stunners; movies that are truly impressive and compelling art, and they are animated.  Nobody throws shame on anyone for having an emotional response to the opening scene of Pixar's movie, "Up."  

   The whole point of any story--told in any medium you please--is to create something beautiful that people can learn from.  Wisdom for life, ideals to strive for, and earnest warnings by showing the consequences of bad choices.  If a story has these qualities, then it is worth watching, reading, or experiencing.  

   "No book is really worth reading at the age of ten which is not equally--and often far more--worth reading at the age of fifty and beyond," C.S. Lewis once observed.

   "[Children]...must be trained to feel pleasure, liking, disgust, and hatred at those things which really are pleasant, likeable, disgusting, and hateful," C.S. Lewis also tells us.  "All this before he is of an age to reason; so that when Reason at length comes to him, then, bred as he has been, he will hold out his hands in welcome and recognize her because of the affinity he bears to her."  (C.S. Lewis, "The Abolition of Man.") 

   People claiming that animated movies are only for young children betray a lack of understanding about the nature of stories.  Movies that are attempting to be (or posing as) good stories deserve to be considered on their merits alone.  If they have redeeming qualities, such as valuable messages, compelling characters, or even aesthetic beauty, they should be evaluated without the baggage that comes with the word "Disney."

   Which brings me to my second point, which is yes, Disney animation romanticizes life.  Disney movies usually depict a character who wants something, and they have to go on a journey and/or overcome great difficulties to get it.  I see no problem with that.  Further, I see no problem with romanticizing the journey a little, or dramatizing the villains a bit, or making other characters charming or compelling.  You know why?  Because you can choose to see life that way! 

    Bear with me here.  I believe that each of us is a story being written.  It is right to see ourselves that way, to be excited at all the glorious possibilities and potential each of us has in the choices we make.  Now what's wrong with training yourself to appreciate the "small," or "simple," pleasures of life?  

   Allow me to give a few examples.  

   Pocahontas, and the dazzling animation of the wilderness of America.  

   Brave, and its depiction of the woods, the river, and the rugged beauty of the Scottish mountains.  

   Tangled, and Rapunzel's picturesque tower, where she bakes cookies and paints and crafts before she even sets foot out in the world.  

   The romanticized scenes of Prince Eric's kingdom as he drives Ariel around.  

   All of these things were drawn specifically to appeal to us, and they do.  Why?  Because they want to show you common things in the world as beautiful. 

   Watching Pocahontas makes something within each of us yearn for days before Creation was spoiled and faded.  In Brave, it awakens that yearning in all of us for adventure.  In Tangled, we see creativity and arts and cooking depicted as charming...when those are things we could easily do today if we were inclined.  In "The Little Mermaid," we're rushed here and there, seeing a hum-drum marketplace through Ariel's eyes, as if we too were seeing it all for the first time.  

   The animators know their game.  So do the story-writers (hopefully), and the people who write and perform the musical score.  The whole intention of a movie, (as with any art form) is to make you feel a certain way.  What they make us feel, think, or want to do gives us a clue to whether the story is good or bad, or mere propaganda.  Our job is to be discerning of the art forms we take in.  Relish the good, throw away the bad, and be vigilant about the propaganda.

   When I watch old Disney movies, I don't think they deserve all the contempt that is heaped upon them.  True, many of the stories are dated, and several characters are not as developed or believable as our modern sensibilities would prefer.  But the things they hold up as good and admirable are still good today.  All the evil portrayed by the selfish or scary characters is still just as evil as it ever was.  

   As for the complaints about the older Disney princesses; mainly the contempt they receive for the unforgivable crime of needing to be saved from the unassailable forces set against them...I would suggest that they are not thinking of the story in its entirety.  

   Bear with me for one more example.  

   Cinderella, in the old Disney classic, is an unfortunate girl mistreated by her own family.  She has no ability to fight back or escape.  She chooses to remain kind-hearted and to face her hardships every day with dignity.  People who pour contempt on this fictional character for not being able to save herself are not taking into consideration the setting of the story.  To our modern ears, it may seem offensive that a woman would not be able to escape a bad home-life, but in the time this movie depicts, that was an all too common reality.  If she left her bad situation, she would be a beggar on the street and utterly destitute.  She wouldn't have had the options that we have today.

   When she went to the ball, she wasn't attempting to seduce the prince as an attempt to change her fortunes.  (Which is more than can be said for some of the other Disney Princesses!  Looking at you, Ariel.)  She just wanted to look nice at a formal party--something she attempted to do herself, before her family destroyed her dress and left her behind.  

   The Cinderella story is often maligned by today's modern girls, who sneer at the very idea of poise or grace.  This is a misunderstanding of all that the story was trying to convey in the first place.  It seems to me that the character qualities that Cinderella displays are good ones to appreciate, instead of blaming the victim for the abuses she suffered. 

   And by the way, is it so very demeaning to depict a woman set in difficulties that she has no way out of?  Is that not a sad reality for many women today?  And what's wrong with depicting a man stepping in to fight for her as a noble thing?  I mean, isn't that what we should be teaching little boys to want to do?  Inspiring them to defend the helpless and oppressed?  Does that not reflect the very heart of our God?  Why does this concept offend so many Christian women today? 

   "A real woman can handle anything life throws at her by herself," a wise old adage says, "but a real man won't let her."  

   And now to the criticism that Disney portrays marriage as the ultimate problem-solver.  Of course marriage does not solve all problems.  Nor, I would argue, do any of the Disney movies actually claim that.  A "happy ending," for most of the Disney heroes, is the idea that two people who love each other can get married and start a life together, having overcome all the obstacles that were keeping them apart.  A new beginning, though of course a movie has to end somewhere.  

   I know it's popular these days to speak disparagingly and cynically of marriage.  But we must keep in mind, marriage was invented and instigated by God Himself, before the Fall.  It is taught throughout the Bible as a good, worthy, and honorable thing--and yes, a thing intended to bring about lasting good, happiness, and yes, pleasure!  Of course it isn't always sparkles and flowers and rapturous kisses.  But that is where marriage should begin, at least.  I like the glorification of marriage in the old Disney classics.  

   So you might be wondering why I'm devoting a whole blog post to defending Disney movies.  Why does it matter?  They're movies.  Either you like them or you don't, right?

   Well...I needed to write this defense not so much because the movies themselves are so important, but rather because I find the attitudes behind the above criticisms concerning.  They are the symptoms of deeper, skewed perspectives.

   It doesn't so much matter to me if you let your kids watch "Cinderella," or not.  But I do find the cynicism about life in general and marriage in particular to be concerning. 

    The stories we take in as children are far more influential than we give them credit for.  Children don't care much for "moralizing," or even Scriptural lessons on being kind or patient.  But children pay attention to a story that depicts kindness and patience as being beautiful things.  Those subtle messages that animators and storytellers create for us are meant to inspire us to feel and to want certain things.  It would be wise, therefore, to let children feast their hunger for stories on good ones that promote things that you want promoted!  Just like C.S. Lewis said, children imitate what they see long before they can reason for themselves.  It would be good for children to see simple pleasures and good character qualities glamorized and romanticized; it might inspire them to emulate them.  Because, rest assured, if you don't take the trouble to promote good things for children's minds to feed on, this world will indoctrinate them with its own propaganda.   

   I'm shocked and grieved at how carelessly this generation hands over their children to the influence of the evil one.  Even if they do teach a lot of the right things in their homes and even take their children to church, they don't always bother to concern themselves with what Media their children are taking in; both Social media and the Art mediums, such as books, movies, and music.  Unless you capture the imagination of a child at an early age, you will lose any hope you have of influencing their minds.  How many young souls have been ensnared by the bait of false beauty because they were starving for real beauty? 

   Disney movies are important to me because I was the kind of child who was captivated by magic and beauty and song.  Stories were very important to me because that was my main way to go on adventures.  The musical scores with all their sweeping majesty, charming whimsy, and wistful themes were powerful tools that God used to awaken my soul to yearning.  Even as a child I was staggered by the desires that I felt within me; often they manifested as physical pain.  I was too young to understand why; all I knew was that there had to be more of that beauty out there somewhere, beyond me, beyond my life, beyond this world...and that I wanted it.  My whole life has been haunted by that inconsolable yearning.  C.S. Lewis describes this feeling in his books as "Joy."  It is, of course, the desire for God Himself; one of the ways that He has "set eternity in the hearts of men."  

  I realize, of course, that not all children are like I was.  So whatever inspires them, it is our job to guide them along it until they reach God...for He is behind all the goodness and beauty and pleasures in this life.  

   I suspect that too many children these days do not feel a love of beauty and goodness because their imaginations have not been allowed to develop.  The grownups with their cynical attitudes about life and marriage teach children that fairy-tales and everything about them are silly lies.  What happens, in fact, is that the children are being indoctrinated with that very cynicism, before they are even able to choose for themselves.  And if their mom or dad scoffs at any whimsical or magical scene, that tells them they shouldn't enjoy it; that it's all nonsense.  Not only is that not fair, it's incredibly damaging to a child's imagination and innocence.      

   If you want children to value innocence, beauty, kindness, justice, and doing what is right no matter how scary it is, why not let them think on stories where those things are promoted?  A child may feel disappointed when he finds the world to be shabbier than Disney animation.  But what if he has the idea that he ought to be brave and good no matter what because he saw it in a movie he loves? Because that is applicable to real life, no matter where or how they learn it.       

   So, bearing all this in mind, I want to share in the next post my own personal thoughts on Frozen 2's scene and song called, "Show Yourself."            

      

~Cadenza

Whole30 - Day 20

   I've made it two-thirds of the way!!  

   Whole30 is hard, but it's a good thing to do.  That first week was the worst.  After that, things eased up a bit.  My clothes are fitting me better, I've lost weight, and my skin looks great.  It's amazing how your body responds when you only put healthy things into it.  

   Which makes me kind of--almost--regretful that this is almost over.  Whole30 is not sustainable.  It wouldn't be good for me long-term.  I'm grateful for that, of course.  There is just no way in the world that I'd agree to live this way.

   And since I'm being honest, this week I haven't been able to stop thinking about all the things that I want to eat.  I miss eating out.  I miss ice cream and lemonade.  I miss wine and margaritas.  My roomie and I have promised ourselves frozen margaritas after June 16th.  

   I have June the 17th specially marked on my calendars; it's going to be a happy day, but I can't go crazy.  I have no desire to undo everything I've worked so hard for.  Roomie says we're changing from 100% healthy to 80% healthy and 20% unhealthy.  Right now that percentage sounds lovely.   

   There's really not a lot to say.  I've come so far, I'm not going to cheat now.  And I am going to stick it out for thirty days.  No caving or partying or compromising on Day 28. 

   One thing is bothering me, though.  I can walk by all the things in the store that I want without giving them a second glance.  I've found that I can watch other people eating cookies and brownies in front of me...and behold, I do not die.  

   It's almost like I always had the ability to say no all along.  But maybe it's only because I know that I can't have those things.  I'm trying to remind myself that there's no difference anywhere.  I didn't sign a contract in blood.  I could buy a bottle of wine if I wanted to and have an occasional glass.  I really could.  Nothing outside my will is stopping me.  But...this time, I have a real reason to say no.  That is, I have judged something else to be more important than indulging myself.  Before I didn't really have a compelling argument against the simple, "But I want this, and now!"  

   I have a reason to say no.  And because I'm practically chomping at the bit to be rid of it, that scares me.  For all my weakness...I don't really want to go back to that again.  

   Rules bring safety, but they are shackles.  I don't want to live by some strict code, but I don't want to be enslaved to gluttony, either.  They both bind me.  Not being able to say no makes me a slave to my every whim.  Being dependent on rules makes me turn down a single square of chocolate.

   Gosh...freedom is hard.  It's scary.  Right now...I'm not sure I like it.  I mean, I know me!  I don't like saying no to things I want.  How long will I be able to maintain the heavy responsibility of freedom for myself?  

   I know all about watching other folks have what I want.  I've had to do a lot of that in my life.  I'm sure we all have, but that doesn't make it any easier to bear.  

   I used to live by the philosophy that if I wanted something, run the other way as fast as you can, because it's probably bad for you.  And if you try to fight for it, you'll only get yourself in trouble.  Whether it was something as small as chocolate, or making eye-contact with a handsome stranger, run!  Trying to appeal only brings a lecture about the vices.  And drawing attention to it could diminish the freedoms you already have.  

   It has always baffled me how young people are so prone to rebel.  How do you rebel when you have no freedom to choose in the first place?  How do you fight for more freedom when you never had any freedom in the first place?  

   This bent in my character toward gluttony has infested my entire life, rarely if ever checked in any way.  I liked it that way.  It was some small compensation, some amount of reward for myself for running away from the things I wanted.  There was seldom any other reward, that's for sure.  

   
   Nobody will choose me.  I am unchosen, undesired, unpursued.  And how will anyone ever find me?  Tucked away in my job, lost in the crowd, living my life in this safe, comfy bubble...or should I say "cage"?  I'll stop at Barnes and Noble, and I'll buy whatever I like.  I deserve it.  

   I know I'm full, but I want some chocolate tonight as I watch this movie.  I can't go on adventures like these characters...but at least I can be comfortable as I live vicariously through them.  

   Every night I crawl into an empty bed, and wake up alone.  There's no change on the horizon, no hope of a happily ever after for me.  I'll...I'll stop at Starbucks and get myself a sugary drink in the morning.  I'll feel better.  

   How is this kid getting engaged?  I used to babysit her.  She looks so grown-up in her lace and pearls.  How'd she catch such a handsome guy?  

   Oh...she's having a baby!  How...wonderful for her...Isn't that just...just... 

    Ah.  She's found herself a man.  Well...good for her!  Yeah.  

   What am I doing wrong?  

   What's wrong with me? 

   I'm tired of getting my hopes up.  Nothing ever happens.  I don't even want to try anymore. 

   I know I don't need this milkshake.  But...why even try?  No one's going to notice me anyway.  If I'm going to be on the shelf...why not just say yes to one thing I can give myself?   



   Yes...I know how it feels to be denied what I truly want.  So why deny myself yet one more thing?  There's no reason to.  What would it possibly change, anyway?  

   Having a challenge gives me a reason at least.  The thought of not having a reason again is terrifying.

   However...I can't just let those weeds grow in my heart, choking out my ability to learn self-control.  When it gets to be this invasive, my heart resembles the soil in the parable that grew thorns along with the seeds.  The worries of the world, enslaving me to my desires.  It's grown unchecked for a long time...but that doesn't give me an excuse to ignore it. 

   We don't talk enough about the thorny soil.  I'm beginning to think that most of the Church's problems in America today are because of those worries and troublesome things that we think are indispensable.  Just something as seemingly stupid as a problem with saying no to food.  At least, we call it fancy names like that.  But it's just another broken cistern we use to slake our thirst.  Only an invasive thorny vine that's smothering our fruit and breaking down our walls, little by little.  

   At the end of the day...it's an affair of my heart.  Jesus isn't enough for me.  He doesn't care.  He's forgotten me.  So I might as well indulge.  Because I don't like it, but I have no power to change anything, or even to appeal.  

   I see all this is going on inside me.  It's frightening.  

   I want this Whole30 thing to be done.  But...I don't want to go back to where I was!  Where do you go from there?    That's the question on my mind tonight.         

      

~Cadenza   

Whole 30 - Day 3

   "Well, we've gone and done it, young fellah-my-lad." 

                                                                            ---"The Lost World", by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle   


   If I'd had weeks and weeks to dread--I mean, prepare--for a Whole 30 challenge, I would have been tempted to make a whole "journey," out of it.  But I did not, and I think it's better this way.  Occasional posts, you know, to keep myself accountable.  I knew I'd be less inclined to cheat on this diet if I knew I'd be writing about it.  As appealing as daily posts about this seems, I don't think I will.  Quite frankly, I'm not certain I'll have the mental or emotional energy. 

   For those of you who may not know, "Whole 30" is a diet for 30 days.  "Whole," and non-processed food, for 30 straight days.  A challenge.  

   No grains, no dairy, no sugar or sweetener of ANY kind, (no, not even honey!), no legumes, no processed foods or preservatives, and no regular butter.  It's a diet heavy on proteins, fruits and vegetables.  Not a sustainable lifestyle diet, but more like a "reset," button for your body.  

   I've resisted diets and "challenges," of this nature for oh, all of my life.  So what convinced me to do this?  Was it a snap decision?  Well, yes and no.

   No in the sense that it was *my* decision.  I was not coerced or bribed.  I thought about it for a day or two before I jumped in.  But yes because that's remarkably quick decision-making for someone like me for a challenge like this!  It was one of those things where I knew thinking about it wouldn't help...you just have to jump.  

   I'm (for once) going to try my best not to slip into Story-Mode here.  I'd get too preachy, and then I'd get super annoyed at myself and then where would we be?  But I will explain. 

   Last Friday I was going to lunch for my usual scrumptious feast.  On the way to my car, it dawned on me that I didn't actually want it.  What I wanted was something with multiple textures and ingredients; something with layers of flavor and subtlety.  Like...like cashew chicken for example.  Or curry chicken, or a matar paneer.  Unfortunately when you have a lunch break of 30 minutes, you simply can't manage to get food like that on a regular day.  So I feast on fast food; which I love.

  As I feasted a short while later, I realized I didn't like the way I felt right this minute.  Scarfing down this delicious--if a tad monotonous--meal.  My hands were all greasy; I had a pile of smeared napkins in my lap.  Gross...

  Gross was how I felt for the entire afternoon and evening, too.  I thought grease was seeping from my pores.  I was sticky, restless, over-full, and yet I could tell I'd be hungry again shortly.  And the thought came to me, "Why do I do this?  Seriously, why?  I'm not sure I like this as much as I think I do!"  

   It was that evening or the next day when my roommate told me she was planning to do Whole 30 starting on Monday, and asked me if I wanted to join her.  It was one of those moments in life when you *don't* want to, and yet you feel so wretched the way you are that your mind just kind of goes, "You know what....why not?"  

   So I told her I would. 

   We spent all of Saturday planning, buying groceries, purging the house, and pre-cooking next week's lunches.  I found myself getting excited.  I was throwing away things I wasn't going to need, and hiding certain things from myself.  

   With me, I just can't seem to force myself to make small healthy choices.  I could have a salad for lunch, of course.  But I could also get a hot meal from Chick-fil-A, and it's very, very hard to argue with that!  Maybe I just need some big huge commitment to--I'm not sure, reset my body?  Get cravings under control?  Feel better?  Look better?  Maybe!  The sky is the limit! 

   So now I'm on day 3, and I won't lie to you.  This sucks.  At this point I'm glad I didn't write some inspired happy hopeful preachy garbage on Sunday when I was still stuffing my face with all the delicacies as a very fond month-long farewell.  I would not be able to stomach it now.  

   The first day was horrible.  I enthusiastically ate my good food, and there was plenty of it, I must say!  I wasn't starving myself on tiny portions of rabbit food.  This was chicken and sweet potatoes and broccoli.  And fruit and nuts for snacks.  I had plenty of food.  But I wanted chocolate.  I caught my brain going, "Okay, now it's time for chocolate!" at every available opportunity.  Then I had to remind myself, "Nope, no chocolate."  And my brain would go, "All right, maybe a little bit later then." 

  All afternoon it kept getting worse.  And instead of dialogue in my head, it changed to this overall feeling of restlessness.  And *worry*.  It was like how you feel when you know you've forgotten something important and can't remember what it is.  It was a craving in the worst sense, manifesting itself in physical symptoms and needling and nagging me to death. 

  Eating grapes that afternoon was my saving grace.  Thank you God for grapes!!  

  The next morning and this I've woken up feeling hollow.  That's really the best way to describe it.  Empty inside.  This unsettled, uneasy, dreading sort of emptiness inside.  

   Although...that's not new.  I wake up feeling that way most of the time, and it's only gotten worse as all this social-distancing has been taking its toll.  I guess this time what makes it so much worse is that now my body feels weird.  

   I call it "hollow," but it's also a mixed-up kind of feeling.  I'm not sure how to properly describe it.  I feel that everything is different, and not in a happy way.  My body still feels gross, even though I've eaten only healthy things for three days.  I still feel like grease is seeping out of my pores.  I'm bloated, too.  I'm still all broken out.  I feel oddly over-full, ravenously hungry, or uninterested in food in turns.  

  This is truly awful.  From what I've read, this stage will probably only get worse for the next 10-15 days.  

   Hoo-boy.  What have I gotten myself into?    
       


~Cadenza
 

Top 10 Drinks

   Today I'm going to write about something different.  This social distancing over the COVID-19 virus has given me a lot more time on my hands.  I decided that today I didn't want to spend it all on my phone.  Writing is constructive, and just all-around better for me.  

   So today I'm going to tell you my (current) top ten favorite drinks.  Lezzgo! 

   Number 10- Red Moscato.

   I believe the first time I tried wine, it came from a box.  It tasted a terrible hybrid of cough medicine and rubbing alcohol.  It latched onto the skin inside of my mouth and tried to dissolve it.  It was sour and bitter, both sensations turned up to ten.  It took several minutes to get my face back into its proper shape again.  So I was wary when my roommate asked me to try a glass of sweet dessert wine.  
  
   I was pleasantly surprised.  It was how I'd always imagined wine should taste!  I sipped it slowly, savoring it.  Halfway through the glass, I felt little zings running in my blood.  My body's muscles began to relax; I began to melt into my chair.  My breaths were deep and slow, and my mind went all quiet and serene.  When I eventually curled up in my bed that night, my sleep was deep and refreshing. 

   Red wine is a treat.  It's a nice way to finish a long or trying day.  Heck, it's just a nice finish to any day.  I make sure to keep it a treat, and I never have more than two glasses.  Even that's a bit much. One glass usually does it.  

   Number 9- Lime Margarita! 

   I never thought I would like the taste of tequila, but it turns out I do!  My roommate got me into margaritas.  One happy hour she was kind enough to let me taste hers so I could decide if I wanted to order one of my own.  

   There's just something about it--that lime taste--it's sharp and sweet and refreshing all at once!  I like them frozen rather than over ice.  It's become my (alcoholic) drink of choice.  It makes me think of oceans and summertime, and it kind of makes me long to take a road trip to a pretty beach.  Which is kind of remarkable, since I'm not much of a beach person.  I'm a mountains-girl all the way...and yet...yeah, this winter I was cherishing hopes of a trip to a beach some weekend.  I don't think this is going to be my year for that, but oh well.  Some other time, I guess.  

   Number 8- Grape Juice!

   Some kids grow up drinking a lot of juice (real or syrup).  With me and my siblings, juice was an enormous treat.  Grape juice never lasted long in our house.  But at one point, my dad started buying grape juice, and he let us have half a glass for special occasions like a family game night.  He showed us how to "cut it" with water, so we could make it last longer.  I was instantly a fan because it let me have a full glass to savor.  Yes, the flavor wasn't as sharp, but at least I had grape juice!  

   I remember one night we were attempting to play "Clue," together for a family game night.  My parents let us break out the grape juice and fixed us popcorn.  The game was very difficult to learn, but the experience was fun.  The next time we played Clue, I found myself craving grape juice, and so it became a little tradition.  I still associate the "Whodunnit," mystery game with the flavor of grape juice.  

   I don't often win at Clue, but I love playing it.  It was a very long process learning how, but it was worth it.  Atmosphere is important to me in that game.  Some minor-key slow jazz playing, grape juice, the smell of popcorn in the air, the pencils, the furtive scribbling...Hey, anyone up for a game of Clue?!  Oh, right.  Social distancing.  Never mind.

   There's something else that I associate grape juice with that's far more important.  I grew up in a church, and I was saved as a young child, so I've taken the Lord's Supper for the majority of my life.  

  The Lord's Supper is a solemn, yet wonderful ordinance.  It's not about the cracker and the juice, of course.  Those are merely emblems that we use to remind us of Christ's death and resurrection.  He, God come in the flesh, allowed his body to be broken and handed over to be the sacrifice to pay sinners' ransom.  He allowed His blood--both human, and yet sinless--to be spilled for us in a horrifying and torturous death.  We take communion once a month at our church.  We remember.  We thank Him.  We center our minds on Christ once more.  It's a wonderful spiritual discipline.  

   Grape juice always reminds me of that, even when I pour myself a glass and take the first sip from it.  It's sharp and earthy, sweet, but with a tang.  It tastes like forgiveness; a reminder that my conscience has been cleansed.  It is sorrow mingled with joy, love mingled with tears.  Celebratory fruit, yet the color of blood.  An acknowledgement of the bitterness of sin, but the promise that one day I will be summoned to the Marriage Supper of the Lamb of God.  Welcomed because He bore my penalty.

   Such a mundane drink, and yet what a holy and joyful purpose it serves!  

   The next few I'll be able to move through more quickly.  

   Number 7- Coca-Cola!  

   What can I say?  I'm an all-American girl.  I love Coca-Cola!  And I'm from the South, so if you tell me you want "a coke," I assume you mean the drink Coca-Cola.  

   Coke is what I grew up drinking for celebratory occasions; it's very much a Saturday kind of drink.  For parties, Family Roller Skating Nights, or the after-party of a basketball game.  Or for taco or pizza nights!  My mother always let us have caffeine-free Coke when she fixed us tacos or whenever Daddy ordered pizza for us.  (And caffeine-free Coke, by the way, is actually amazing.  When you're as sensitive to caffeine as I am, that's a massive blessing.)  

   My mother has a love for Coke Icees.  Back when I was in high school, I'd have my violin lessons at 1pm on Wednesdays.  Then afterward she and I would do all the grocery shopping for the week.  She and I would get large Coke Icees together, it was kind of our thing.  We would sing in the car together and talk about all kinds of things.  Those were happy times.  The taste of a Coke from a vending machine brings back those memories.  

   Number 6-  Dr. Pepper!  

   I'm sorry...but I'm afraid I love Dr. Pepper even more than Coca-Cola.  I don't know what it is, but gosh, it's delicious.  At my first job I was shown a break room stocked with cans upon cans of all kinds of soft drinks...including piles of Dr. Pepper.  

   I could hear a heavenly choir singing "Ahhhhh-AAAHHHHHH!" in my mind as I was made to understand that we could partake of these untold riches as often as we pleased.  It was bounty and generosity beyond my wildest dreams.  

   So I did.  It was a marvelous freedom, and I delighted in it.  

   Yeah.  There were days when I had to continuously chug Dr. Pepper just to keep myself from passing out right there at my desk.  You know, from lack of sleep catching up to me from the last...ten nights or so.  I didn't go to college, but from what I've been told, that bears some resemblance to the "college experience." 

   And of course, because I had no self-control, when I worked at Chick-fil-A, I was drinking ungodly amounts of caffeine six days a week.  A few years ago I had a terrible migraine from caffeine withdrawal, and it really put things into perspective.  I don't want to be dependent on caffeine!  I don't want to rely on it in order to be awake and functioning in the morning.  Or to be a decent person.  I'm not sure when it became socially acceptable to be rude to people if you haven't had your coffee fix yet, but it sounds just like any other addiction to me.  You've all seen the cutesy slogans on coffee mugs and t-shirts:  "I can't be polite to you until I've drunk my coffee--don't you dare speak to me before I'm done!"   

   Yeah, more like, you're just a selfish person with an addiction. 

   At any rate, I had to go off caffeine cold turkey, and it's once again a treat for special occasions.  Thanks a lot, former self.  

   Number 5- Tea!!  

   My (very old) self-description on the side of this blog says that I'm a tea-snob.  That's still true.  What's also true is that I have kind of burned out on sweet tea lately.  But then, that could be because most sweet tea is caffeinated, and I can no longer drink it often.  

   I like chamomile or peppermint tea in the evenings for a calming, soothing drink, but my favorites are the loose-leaf black teas.  The English blends, or the Indian chai.  Which I can't have often.  (*sigh*) 

   Number 4-  Lemonade!  

   I'm sorry to put this above tea, but lemonade isn't caffeinated, and so it's something that I've been enjoying more recently.  

   When I say lemonade, I of course mean real lemons and water and sugar.  Not powdered stuff.  I have nothing against Country Time except, well, that it isn't the real deal.  

   Real lemonade is like drinking sunshine.  On hot days, it's refreshing.  So sour, so sweet, so cool.  I crave it on rainy days, too.  When I drink it on a rainy day, I feel as if I've got a cupful of drinkable sunshine.  

   Sometimes I like to slice up strawberries to put in it.  Delectable.  But no ice!  Don't want to dilute that marvelous taste, now, do we?  Just serve it chilled--NO ICE! 

   And now we reach the top three...

   Number 3-  Milkshakes/Floats.  

   Yep.  Number three.  It absolutely refused to be lower.  Milkshakes are one of the best things in the culinary world to have ever been invented, as far as I'm concerned.

   See, here's the thing.  As much as I love dessert, there's a surprising number of them that I really don't care for.  

   For instance, I never have been much of a pie person.  There are pies that I enjoy, but I don't ever get a "hankerin' " for a slice.  Cobblers and fruit pies I can take or leave.  When people serve me pie after dinner, I'll take a slice and eat it to be polite.  I can taste that it's sweet.  I can sort of appreciate it for what it is.  But the sad truth is that after one bite, I just don't really want any more.  

   Cakes I'm a bit more inclined to, especially if it's homemade.  (Or chocolate!)  But store-bought birthday cakes smeared with piles of sugary frosting or coated with fondant--yuck.  Weddings, parties, I can usually do without the cake.  (Except yours, sis!  Your cakes from scratch are divine, and I love them!) 

   Pastries are very British, but they're overrated.  Cookies are nice, especially if they're hot out of the oven.  Hmm, if I'm honest, cookies are pretty safe.  I'm not as picky when it comes to cookies.  

   But brownies, ice cream, and chocolate are my JAM.  My taste in desserts is obviously pretty low-brow.  Custards, crumbles, tarts, tiramisu, lemon bars, trifles, baked puddings, creme brulee, cheesecake--meh.  How about an enormous cup of blended ice cream with chocolate or toppings in it?  YES!!  I know it's bit child-like, but what can I say?  They're simply the best. 

   I'm including floats in this, because they're practically the same thing.  Root beer, coke, or Dr. Pepper floats, they're all marvelous.  A case could even be made for my beloved caramel frappuccinos to fit in this category, because they're basically ice cream with coffee flavoring in them.  I don't pretend to be a coffee drinker, you know.  

   Number 2- Water.

   I know, I know.  This probably should be number one because of how good it is for you.  Well, that, and because if it wasn't for water, we couldn't drink at all!  

   I just can't realize how thirsty I am until I start drinking water throughout the day.  Sadly, dehydration contributes to most of the headaches I have.  

   One summer some friends and I took a Saturday to canoe down a river.  We didn't bring enough water with us.  Nobody wanted to lug all the water bottles around, I guess.  We had one or two bottles apiece for our sack lunch, but we were halfway down the river before we realized our mistake.  It was a hot day, and the sun beat down on us as we glided along.  Soon our shoulders were getting sore, and I at least could feel a painful sunburn forming. 

   The bus ride back to our cars had no air-conditioning, and even then it took us a while to drive to a restaurant.  Exhausted, sunburned, ravenous, sore, and dehydrated, we tumbled into a tiny little Daisy Queen and ordered water the moment we entered.  I requested mine without ice, and it arrived at our table just as I got back from washing my hands.  I took it from the girl's hand and exclaimed "Glory Hallelujah!" with the utmost sincerity before I was gulping it shamelessly.  She gave me a weird look, but I could not have cared less.  I always bring plenty of water bottles on float trips now, and I even reapply sunscreen.  (Oh my gosh, I'm an adult...!) 

   There's another story I want to tell.  A few years ago, my brother and I were in Oxford, England for a week-long conference.  One of the afternoons when the conference let out, one of my brother's professors offered to show us some of the C.S. Lewis and Tolkien sights in the city.  Eagerly we agreed, and the little group set out together.  

   Now, let me just say, this was a spontaneous thing.  I was wearing a dress and wedges and a very tiny purse.  Also, I don't believe our dear professor had any deliberate plans before setting out.  Not that it mattered.  We knew nobody could give us a better tour of Oxford than him, and neither of us would have missed it, even if we'd known what was going to happen.

   He showed us many wonderful places that afternoon, several of them obscure or out-of-the-way.  There was even a sunken lane--Cuckoo Lane--which was a path that C.S. Lewis habitually walked.  It was narrow and walled, with trees arching over at the top.  It was quiet, shady, and altogether delightful.  I genuinely mean no offense to our dear professor, who is one of the kindest, most charming, and courtly people I have ever met.  But!  His tour took up the entire afternoon, and I walked all over that city in my clunky white wedges.

   Now--you never think of England as uncomfortably hot, right?  You always see it portrayed as misty or rainy, or wintry, don't you?  But it was July when we were there, and it was a very hot, stuffy kind of day.  We were outside and on our feet for hours, and since we were walking through residential areas or college grounds, there really was nowhere to sit, and nowhere to get a drink or a snack.

   I was having a good time with the group, and of course I was delighted to see the sights.  But I was uncomfortably dressed and sweating profusely and getting very tired and footsore hours before it was time to think about dinner.  What I most remember is how very thirsty I was.  My mouth went pretty dry a few hours in, so I tried to keep my mouth closed.  Hour after hour went by, and all at once I noticed that my tongue was sticking to the roof of my mouth!  That frightened me.  With an effort I unstuck it, and it gave way with a nasty sensation.  In vain I bit my tongue and the sides of my mouth, which is a singer's trick to stimulate salivation in a dry mouth.  There was no response at all.  When I nervously ran my tongue around the inside of my mouth, it stuck to my teeth as well.  My entire mouth was completely dry.  There wasn't a thing I could do about it.  

   I confess that afternoon is all a blur in my mind.  After I made my disconcerting discovery, we were out there for a good two hours longer.  My brother and I had raging headaches, and I was getting dizzy.  We walked and walked, until I got into that state of mind where I was beginning to think it would never actually end.  But somehow we found ourselves back "in civilization," again: streets, cars, buildings, shops, and--Oh, thank the Lord!--a grocery store!!  A real, actual grocery store with automatic doors and a breeze of real air-conditioning flowing out of it!  

   My brother asked the professor to stop for a moment, and he and I and a young lady we'd made friends with all staggered in with our last remaining energy.  My memory seems to be almost tunnel vision at that point.  I was scanning the shelves for a water bottle--I had no interest in anything else at that moment.  I was too hot to even feel how hungry I was.  I snatched up the biggest water bottle I saw, and--oh, why not?--a bottle of Dr. Pepper, too.  My brother bought two water bottles and bottle of juice.  Neither of us cared what it cost.  We hurled ourselves to the check out and fumbled with our cash.  Next thing I knew I was wrenching off the cap and pouring water down my throat.  

   I've been reliably told that there is a condition that some people are born with called "Synthesia."  It means, "a condition in which one type of stimulation evokes the sensation of another, as when the hearing of a sound produces the visualization of color."  I'm pretty sure I don't have this condition, but for that moment in my life I thought I did.  

   The very instant that cold water flooded my parched mouth, my whole mind exploded with music.  I mean, it was loud, crashing, harmonious chords that overrode all thought in my brain.  No, I didn't hear it with my ears.  I suspect the relief--that's too weak a word--the deliverance and joy that my body felt translated itself in my mind as music.  That's the best way I can describe it.

   Immediately I understood a whole handful of Scriptures about water far better than I ever had before.  

   "Like cold water to a weary soul, so is good news from a far country." (Prov. 25:25)   

   "Ho! Every one who thirsts, come to the waters!" (Isa. 55:1) 
 
   "...Jesus stood up and cried out, saying, 'If anyone is thirsty, let him come to Me and drink.' "  (John 7:37) 


   And finally!  Number 1!  My very favorite drink of all--

   Number 1-Milk.  

   Seems like a bit of a letdown, huh?  All that rich Biblical imagery for grape juice and water, and my very favorite drink of all is milk.  Well, there's plenty of Biblical imagery for milk as well, but I'll get to that in a minute. 

   I mentioned before that juice was a treat for us growing up.  We drank milk instead, three meals a day, and I loved it.  Nobody ever talks about how great it is to drink milk, unless they're referring to soy milk.  Or rice milk.  Or cashew milk.  Or pretty much any kind of milk except for cow's milk.  I suspect most people think it's babyish to talk about drinking a glass of milk.  Either that or most people just don't like milk; but it can't be that.  I mean, have you seen how upset people get when there's no milk for their cereal?  Geez!  

   Milk is my absolute favorite thing to drink because it pairs with practically everything.  

   Breakfast food, eggs, bacon, cereal (naturally), toast with jam, waffles, pancakes, muffins, you name it.  Milk goes splendidly with all of them.  It mystifies me how people seem to prefer orange juice with their breakfast food.  A bite of pancakes and syrup, then a swig of orange juice on top?  Blech!  Milk is far better.  

   The creaminess of milk compliments all breakfast foods, be they sweet, light, or hearty.  And then I think that its creaminess also compliments the savory of "dinner," meals.  Call me crazy, but it just works!  And of course milk pairs well with most desserts (especially the desserts I'm partial to.)  

   I meant to spend a lot of time describing how well they pair, but now that I think of it, either you get it or you don't.  There's no use attempting to account for taste, I suppose.  I just happen to think milk goes wonderfully with most things.  It's a nice thing to reach for if you want something to drink that isn't water.  It's a little more filling than water, much pleasanter than water (unless you've been staggering in the summer heat for hours with a dry tongue!), and it works with any snack or dessert.  (The only exception I can think of would be sour candy, or something like that.)  

   When I can't sleep at night, a delightful thing to do is to slip into the kitchen and heat up a mug of milk, then stir in a spoonful of honey.  Yeah, yeah, I know it's not the healthiest thing to do, and in my defense, I don't do that very often.  But then, I don't usually have trouble sleeping, either. 

   Drinking warm milk is an almost instant sedative for me.  Something about it is so soothing that after a few sips I feel my knotted muscles begin to relax.  Halfway through the mug and my eyelids are beginning to droop...and then sleep is stealing over me, warm and familiar and comforting, like an old friend.  

   I've often thought how nice it would be to have a child come to me, frightened by a nightmare, and to take them to the kitchen to make mugs of warm milk and honey for us both.  Then we'd sit talking quietly over them, discussing their dream.  I'd comfort them with reality and with truth.  And I'd watch in amusement as their eyelids start to droop and their little tousled head begin to nod...and then it'd be off to bed again, tucking them in with a sleepy hug and a kiss.  

   Just a little fantasy of mine.  I'm sure the reality wouldn't be nearly that quiet or tidy.  But I can dream.  

   Anyway, milk has rich symbolism in the Bible, too.  Milk is for nourishment, comfort, and even luxury.  The pure milk of the Word for those new in the faith, leading to the solid food for the spiritually hungry and growing believers.  

   Milk and honey were the promises God made for His people.  He promised to lead them to a good land that was bountiful and lovely.  Again from Isaiah 55, He calls out that he who has no money may come "buy and eat!" of the riches of God's undeserved favor.  Wine, for celebration.  Water for refreshment, and milk for comfort and sustaining.  

   But all this talk of warm milk has made me sleepy, and it is high time I went to bed.  Everyone stay safe, wash your hands, take precautions.  Be good citizens and go along with the whole social distancing for your own good.  Be responsible and show the government we can take care of ourselves.  Reach out to those around you via technology, and don't forget to read God's Word and listen to sermons and worship at home as best you can.  

   That's all for tonight, folks!


~Cadenza