Surviving (The Legacy Series: Legacy, Prodigy, Champion by Marie Lu)

The first book in this series, Legacy, is not shown here because it was my daughter's book. She thought I stole borrowed it from her when I reviewed it last week. (See that review here.) However, I did not take the book home with me; thus, I only have these last two in the series which I checked out from the library. Notice the books are from the Teen section, and know also that the books have nothing to do with London -- that's just my morning coffee cup. The series takes place in the United States (and I realized this morning that I do not have a US coffee cup -- hint to family and friends).

Why did Lu (or her publishers) title this series the Legacy series? Really, the first book mainly involves the prodigy character(s). But, can you imagine a series titled the Prodigy series? It sounds a bit elitist, which the prodigy character, June, is. We can consider Day as the anti-prodigy character who is a prodigy that didn't make the cut but survives anyway (not a plot spoiler).

This series ranks ahead of the average teen series because of what Lu brings to the table of literature. Sure, it's typical teen fare: parents dead, lots of violence and fighting to survive, love interests (will she go with _______ or with ________ when you know all along that she's meant to be with ____).

However, though it irks me to have dead good adults in teen fiction, I do think the legacy that June and Day have involves parents and siblings who strive for good, in fact, gave their lives up fighting evil. Lu also employs symbolism and allusion, trademarks of good literature. Take the names of the main characters: June and Day -- season and time of the most light, at least in the northern hemisphere where this story takes place. Then, the kiss in Prodigy is so strong of an allusion, if you don't see it, you have some missing pieces in your literary background. I would rate Prodigy  as the strongest of the three books with a 4 star rating.

As for Champion, the last in the series, one can not just stop at Prodigy! I surmise my issue with Champion is that it moves beyond my originally agreeing with a Commonsense review stating that Legacy was for readers 12 and up. I will say, though, that when Lu brings in the theme of who we become, what shapes us, then she leads us into a story much more than the average teen fiction.

"How had he slowly twisted into the Elector who created such a dark nation? What path had he chosen to follow?" (Champion 263).

We know the legacy of three characters and the choices they make along the way which lead them into the people they become. We also see the choices of a few other characters and what led to their rise or fall. In this respect, I like the story. I'm still giving it 3 stars, but who doesn't finish a series?! Three stars won't stop someone from finishing to see what the end holds. And, to Lu's credit, she does go for a more complex ending. I do intend to read more of her novels.

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Writing stories. The deeper aspects of the Legacy series are what elevates this series: the choices that characters make, who they are and who they become. Too often, I saw students from first grade to high school think their normal everyday lives were not as exciting as the latest action movie they happened to watch. I made it my goal to encourage them to see that their daily lives had value in story form. A couple of weeks ago I gave my granddaughters a file of their dad's art work and written work. One of their favorite pieces was a story that he wrote about his dad, their grandpa. The story was loved by Grandpa as well. It's unusual for someone not to want to be a hero (or perhaps "heroic" would be a better word), but heroes don't happen overnight. Small daily actions grow heroes. Daily life, daily choices matter. June and Day, the characters in these books, have flaws, make mistakes. Sometimes our mistakes provide comic relief in our stories and sometimes they provide transparency and reality, but our mistakes need not hold us back from becoming people who in the midst of surviving also grow and thrive in goodness.

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I'm into these practices on listening since a friend sent me nine "DO NOTs of an Active Listener" from a 2014 blog of Janice Taylor's. I wish I could figure out how to turn them into DOs except, basically, the DO part of each one is "Just listen." 😌

4. DO NOT interrupt; do not cut the speaker [your child, your student, your friend, your ___?] off mid-sentence. Allow him/her to finish the thought. Just listen.
5. DO NOT plan your responses as the speaker is speaking. Just listen.
6. DO NOT give advice unless specifically asked for it. Just listen. 

Certainly this book series is an opportunity to think about social justice as well. How one goes about social justice is a good topic of discussion or of listening: to God, to others, before judging, jumping to conclusions and finding oneself more of a hindrance than a help.

Remembering: (Gypsy Triptych by Schoorl), Godparents, and Who Gets the Dogs

I must explain my rating of the book Gypsy Triptych (before I muse further on godparents and dogs), a book that would make an excellent reading group discussion choice. Jump to paragraph six to find out who I think might enjoy the book.

I don't hate the book; I don't even dislike the book. This issue is giving three, four, or five stars to a book written by a childhood friend, the daughter of my brother's godparents. As with my review of Tender at the Bone which indicated that a reader would either love the book or stop reading depending on whether one wanted recipes in a book, so too with Gypsy Triptych and dreams. This book will either be a reader's dream book or a nightmare.

Gypsy Triptych is a family friend's fictionalized memoir. The author indicates that there is fact amongst the fiction, and one reviewer found it intriguing to guess at which parts were fact and which were fiction. I did as well. I also enjoyed walking through my memories of the location (fact) and memories of Schoorl's family (much of it spot on -- accurate).

Another caveat for friends and family to whom this would matter: Schoorl writes, "I was a firm believer in the power of prayer, magic, dream, science, and reincarnation." Whether this is Schoorl herself, her character, or just a part of the dream it is written in, I do not know. Those who have read my blog before (or know me) know that I do not believe in reincarnation; however, I agree to disagree with authors and keep reading.

One reviewer mentioned some grammatical errors. Thankfully, the errors are not too numerous and there are some beautiful sentences such as "The sea looked so calm, like a prisoner who hides the secret torments of his life" and "He was deep in slumber, looking like he was sleeping off years of woe." One section involving the various homes where Schoorl's character (or Schoorl herself) lived in is a bit confusing. I can imagine the members of my local library book discussion group getting frustrated with keeping track of what is going on. I can understand. As it turns out, I am concurrently reading Henry Miller's Big Sur and the Oranges of Hieronymus Bosch, and Miller's memoirs equally jump around in sequencing so Schoorl is in good company with her writing style.

Regarding dreams, Schoorl comments, "I was accustomed to living this way with dream scenes decorating the walls of my mind, shy wallflowers, guests I myself invited." I did find the thought "I had been trying to dream with intention" a new thought that I tried myself later that night.

Who I think might enjoy the book -- those who are tired of reading typical memoirs (often ones I never finish reading -- let's drop names of everyone famous I have ever been in contact with and drone on and on or let me tell you my story which includes so much adventure and illegal activities that the book is more of a peep show than something that resonates with one's life), those who would enjoy dreams in a book, those who live in the San Bernardino County area or are interested in that area, those who have had second chances at love or are interested in second chances, those who are in book discussion groups.

I won't list all of the questions I think would be relevant to a group discussion (too many), but I will move on with something I found intriguing early on (pages 8-9): "Whenever it seemed that I would misremember and relate events from my childhood incorrectly, or that I didn't remember anything the same way my siblings did, I just reminded myself that they weren't gifted with better memories, but that it was rather quite natural for me to remember less since I was the youngest. I wasn't being incorrect intentionally. I focused on things that were important to me, not important to them. I remembered things that were in my line of vision."

In my line of vision as I read this book were Schoorl's descriptions of her parents who were my brother's godparents.

I look at these photos now and think "How young they were!" If something had happened to my parents, my brother (according to godparent tradition) would have gone to live with them. It was fascinating to think how his life would have changed. I think he still would have gone to college just as Schoorl and her sister did. His godparents were intellectuals who strongly believed in education. Would he have met my sister-in-law, a woman he met in high school and has been in love with since that time?

I was fourteen when the picture above of my brother and godparents was taken. Too young to take care of all my siblings, although as I grew older I wanted to do so if anything happened. Plenty happened -- the death of a marriage -- but not the death of my parents. My own godparent had forgotten that she was my godparent when we met up later in life. It wasn't memory loss, but merely the aspects of coming from a large extended family.

My aunt loved to travel and did it often, almost traveling to every part of the world so I know I would have kept something I have now: the love of traveling. I would have had a good life, and by good, I mean a life of loving God and loving others.

And, just to end with a cute dog picture: these are my granddogs although I doubt my daughter would call them that!

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I've started adding these little notes that my older self wished I could have told my younger parent self. My husband and I did not choose godparents for our children. I think I assumed my sisters would step up and take care of them. It is something to think about: choosing godparents and choosing in way that you can picture how your child or children would grow up with those parents.

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I've also started including practices for spiritual formation, for thriving. One thread that keeps running through Schoorl's book is the loneliness she felt growing up, something that surprised me given my family of seven lived down the street from Schoorl...until I recalled that we moved away while my siblings were still in elementary school which meant Schoorl also was still in elementary school. A good practice might be to look at one's community. Do you and I have a number of friends (enough to balance the loss of friends who move away or later in life, move into eternity) that we are willing to keep in contact with (more than Christmas cards)? 

Top Shelf with the Memories on the Left in the Bedroom -- Journals, Memoirs, and Writing, Oh My!

This is my second bookshelf post. For some people, this shelf on a bedroom hutch would not be for books. It would be for pictures or knick knacks. Not so in a reader's house. If you are a mom and here for a mom moment, skip down to the hearts. If you are interested in the spiritual practices side of this blog, skip down to the dotted lines. Those of you interested in brief synopses of the books, keep reading.

From left to right:
Streams in the Desert devotional journal -- not written in. I have this habit of buying beautiful journals and then not wanting to mar the pages. My original Streams in the Desert by L. B. Cowman is on the other side of the hutch, well used and well read.

I am Inspired reflections journal -- 15 pages written in while I was in Russia. It was a good choice for Russia as it is lightweight. Twice before I had traveled to Russia and not written down my thoughts when I was there. The experienced travelers say to reflect while you are on the journey or you will forget. I found this to be true, but difficult to implement. My last written words are in Russian. Unfortunately, I have dropped my practices and have forgotten much so I'm not sure what it says. Мы is "We"; Сару is probably Sarah, my daughter, with whom I was traveling. I know the last word is "house" and the next to the last, I think, is "old" and we were visiting an old, very old, house.
Мы двинули Сару к её новому дому.

What to do with the other pages? Sigh. I have many, many journals and a tendency to pick one up and start writing, no matter the date or subject. In other words, if my children or grandchildren ever read them, they will find the scope and sequencing way out of sync (out of order). I did have a idea for young moms (or anyone really), see 💕 below.

Live This Day a birthday book of questions and reflections -- not written in (are you sensing a pattern here?). I picked this up at a yard sale for 25 cents. I had grand plans of writing in it on my birthday every year, but I did not think about it two months ago.

Mere Christianity journal -- a beautiful leather journal (ahem, also not written in). I had bought one for one of my students as a graduation gift, liked it so much that I bought one for myself. There is a beautiful violet pressed inside.

All Shall Be Well by Paraclete Press -- colorful pages, quotes by saints of old (the cover quote by Hilda St. Clair), opportunities to draw and write, WRITTEN IN! I turn often to the first two pages. On one side is a quote by Teresa of Avila: "Let nothing disturb you. Let nothing frighten you. God alone is enough." On the other side are boxes in a variety of colors with these instructions: "Write your fears in each of these boxes. Now mark an X over each one and write underneath each one, "God is bigger than this." I have not literally filled in those boxes, but when I am fearful, I sometimes come to this page and mentally fill in the box, cross it out, and say to myself, "God is bigger than this." If you happened to read my post Magi-Community-Regrets-Resolutions, you will know that I took issue with those who respond to all situations with a blanket: God is enough. I responded, "God is enough AND God wants community." I still think that is true. I also know God is enough and bigger than all my fears. God also uses the community of saints (and sinners) to love me and strengthen me.

Writing About Your Life by William Zinsser -- I need all the help I can get. Obviously, what I need most is either the time or the will to sit down and start writing.

Old Friend from Far Away by Natalie Goldberg -- Yes, another "The Practice of Writing Memoir" Gulp, not written in. Yes, this is a "how-to" writing memories with actually exercise pages. Maybe I could put one page from a journal or memory book down on my list of "to-do" (see hearts below).

The Practice of the Presence of God by Brother Lawrence -- so loved, the front cover is there but no longer attached. The copyright on this book is 1982. I may have had it longer than that. I can't say that I have read and re-read the book as much as I have constantly been reminded by the title that I can practice being aware of the presence of God.

Born for Battle by R. Arthur Mathews (copyright 1978) -- I've also had this book for a very long time. Every time I think about passing it along something happens to remind me of its value. The battle in this book is not against flesh and blood but against the spiritual forces of wickedness in heavenly places. What saved the book on the bookshelf this week was a section "God's Good Purposes in Human History" in Dallas Willard's book The Allure of Gentleness. It's too long of a discussion to post here, but I recommend Willard's book.

The Calvary Road by Roy Hession -- This is another book that I sometimes think of passing on and then I see the words I have underlined. The author, at least as he wrote the book, writes humbly and lovingly (which always draws me in) of openness and transparency.

If by Amy Carmichael -- Another little book I have had for a long time. When I pull it down, it is usually to remind myself of her poem "Love through me, Love of God" -- the second stanza is as follows:

Powers of the love of Good, 
Depths of the heart Divine, 
O Love that faileth not, break forth, 
And flood this world of Thine. 

Boundless Love by six women -- As I took the picture of this bookshelf, I wondered, "Do I have this book up here because I'm too lazy to pass it on?" So, I pull it down and start to read. The short vignettes by these women are so good. They were all grey-haired when the book came out, and I have been looking for writings by older women. The back page is a appropriate synopsis: "Our faith begins and ends with the love of God. In the face of life's struggles, how deeply we need to trust in a love greater than ourselves..."

A Heart Like His by Mike and Amy Nappa -- Written like a blog would be written, before there were blogs.

I Celebrate You, Grandmother! -- Back to the journal type of books. A gift book I found at a yard sale and couldn't pass up...even though my grandmothers died many years ago. I'm not sure what I intend to do with it! Hope my grandchildren find it and fill it in for me? Hah!

A Closer Walk by Catherine Marshall -- I keep pages 102-103 permanently bookmarked. These are the pages when Marshall discusses the day she decided to practice "fasting from criticism." Her account is hilarious (always hilarious when someone else it is happening to someone else). She writes: "My critical nature had not corrected a single one of the multitudinous things I found fault with." Those last three words are key words. Most of us, myself especially included, would not think of ourselves as critical. The word "critical" applies to someone mean, doesn't it. However, Marshall fasted from speaking out anything that day with which she found fault (whether she was right or not!). See below the dotted line for what she learned from this day.

Finally, A Time To Pray 365 Classic Prayers to help you through the year, compiled by Philip Law -- The title states it all, and I've used this book a lot.

Would I put any of these books on my Ideal Bookshelf? -- I don't know. Possibly the All Shall Be Well. Small, good quotes, good reflections.

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This morning, I wanted to accomplish as much as possible. I tend to jump from one activity to the next, getting things done, but maybe not as efficiently as possible (and forgetting some things in the middle of doing others). I have practiced making a list in the past and it has worked for me (as long as I don't lose all the little sticky notes, pieces of paper, etc.). Typically I jump from one activity to the next as they come to mind. This morning as I thought of something that needed to be done, I jotted it down on a piece of paper. This kept me from thinking of a computer activity and then finding myself still on the computer an hour later. I kept a list of everything that needed to be accomplished on the computer.

It did occur to me as my list grew that this might be overwhelming to a parent who is already overwhelmed. (One obviously can not put "change baby's diaper" on the list.) I wondered if putting one thing down per page, such as in this disposable little journal, might look more do-able. Once an action is crossed off, the page can be used again. It becomes more of a list making device than a journal, but one can look back and see how she made it through the day, and when there are encouraging words on the page to continually look at each time, an inexpensive journal (often found at the dollar store or cheaply at a yard sale) can be better than plain sheets of paper (easily lost).

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If you're looking to practice a day of fasting from criticism, it might help to read what Marshall discovered:
1) A critical spirit focuses on ourselves and makes us unhappy. We lose perspective and humor.
2) A critical spirit blocks the positive creative thoughts God longs to give us.
3) A critical spirit can prevent good relationships between individuals and often produces retaliatory criticalness.
4) Criticalness blocks the work of the Spirit of God: love, good will, mercy.
5) Whenever we see something genuinely wrong in another person's behavior, rather than criticize him or her directly, or -- far worse -- gripe about him behind his back, we should ask the Spirit of God to do the correction needed. (Marshall 104)

What to Post When You are Supposed to be Writing Assigned Papers

Don't laugh when you read that I pin (to my board on the Pinterest site). Remember, I am the one with paper piles from which no paper can ever be found. 

This is not a Google stock image. I have a personal relationship with this mess. There are no messes on Pinterest, a site which provides me with virtual file cabinets. I needed a list yesterday and, within two minutes, I found it on my Pinterest List Board. On that board was a list with 365 days of writing prompts. For your perusal are days one through eleven. You will have to either read to the end (or scroll down) to see why I am doing this. 

#1 -- My number one goal this year is to be more like Jesus than last year. 

#2 -- I am most grateful for Jesus in my life; if you want to read something other than Jesus as the answer, then it would be my family. See the third picture below.

#3 -- Yes, I am content…and no, I am not content. If content means to never change for the better, then no, I am not content. If by content, one means do I feel the need to strive for more possessions in my life, then I am happy to tell you that I am content with what I have. 

#4 -- Best memory of last year? Ahhh, now I get to post pictures. Last year had many sad memories, but mixed with the sadness were some great times. I will stick with just three. 

This picture does not do justice to the simple beauty of  our Christmas tree this year. I loved how unrushed and unhurried our Christmas was this year. 

I am learning with this great group of people. In October, we spent a week together and three more times over the course of two years, we will get together (in London, no less). 

I can't seem to control where my pictures end up: this gathering of my family happened in July. What a joy to gather all but six of us together in one place. Family gatherings count at the top of my memory list: Thanksgiving with youngest daughter in Redding; Yosemite with her and my youngest son's family; Sunday dinners. 

#5 -- Last major accomplishment -- figuring out how to get out of the caption mode to be able to continue writing. Seriously, any time I get out of a technological glitch counts as an accomplishment, or a miracle. Writing each day for forty-nine days, missing only two days, counts as an accomplishment. Staying married for forty years as of last April 15th definitely counts as an accomplishment, or a miracle. 

#6 -- What possession could I not live without? I could live without all my possessions -- see #3. Well, yes, clothing does count as a possession, and that is the one I need. I do like to be clothed. 

#7 -- Can people change? Yes. 

#8 -- Last "good" thing I ate -- define "good." If we are discussing "good for my health," then I guess it would be some buckwheat pilaf. If we mean "good, yummy," I ate a tasty piece of halibut with risotto (which I think also counts as healthy). 

#9 -- Current favorite snack -- carrot sticks (no, not because of any resolutions) 

#10 -- What made me smile on day ten -- my granddaughter K. On day nine, it was granddaughter S. :D 

#11 -- My favorite accessory? Lol! I am not against accessories; I just don't have time for them. My favorite accessory is probably this hat. 

This photo courtesy of my talented niece-in-law Brianne MacRunnel, owner of Brianne Janae Photography. I wear this hat (which no longer is anywhere close to being in this good of shape) to keep the dirt and weeds from getting all over me when I throw the ball for my dog. 

If you lasted this long, you may be wondering why this different type of posting. I had plans to practice the Word-centered life on Friday and write about it today. I did spend time in the Word (Matthew 13:18-23 The Parable of the Sower Explained to be exact), and I am creative enough that I could have turned that into a post; however, most of my day was spent with "words" -- lower case 'w' -- or in avoiding them. 

Here is an opportunity for my former students to gloat. It is easier to assign papers than it is to write papers, and I have two six-to-nine page papers due by the end of the month. I think I've written before about my relationship with cleaning and organizing. Yesterday, I found out that I can get so much cleaning and organizing done when I am supposed to be writing papers! I did manage to stay off of Facebook…but took that little detour over to Pinterest. Therefore, just so my students can enjoy watching me squirm as I live in their world of papers, assignments, and due dates, I wrote this post; now I am going to go tackle those papers. 

God Comforts Me

Have you ever gone back to something you have written and discovered how many mistakes you have made? That's what I did this morning. I looked back over yesterday's post, and I counted at least five errors. (Yes, former students, the green ink flowed freely -- in my mind -- over the page.)Of course, the mistakes were made in a post read by more than the usual number of readers (more than my mom and best friends). I wrote: "get on on" instead of "get it on my Kindle." The whole post focuses on the compassionate life, yet I wrote "the contemplative life ascribes value"; it certainly may in other contexts, but I intended to write "the compassionate life ascribes value to everything the Creator has created." I did not even copy the psalm down correctly. It makes more sense for "grain" to go to the eater instead of "great." And, heavens oh heavens, I lacked enough transition between the "trees of the field clapped their hands" and Jesus caring for the least of these. He does care for the trees but the least of these are people who society undervalues.  

Can I blame it on listening to the thud of pieces of my beautiful tree falling to the ground as I typed yesterday? Each time the house rattled, my dog sitting inside with me would start howling.I felt like joining her. I do realize this situation pales in comparison to tragic situations going on throughout the world. It even pales in comparison to some circumstances in my life last year, in the last five years. However, the image of this beautiful tree now cut down symbolizes fairly well changes, large and small, tragic or just disruptive.

My original plan was to practice a particular thread or stream of life one day and write about it the next. As I went about my day yesterday, I wondered how I was going to write about the spirit-filled life in a practical way. Yes, the Spirit is practical; yes, there are plenty of stories to tell; however, how to convey those stories without sounding crazy or prideful right now seems beyond my skill level. 

I decided to return to Frank Laubach's letters, and throw in some interesting passages from a new-to-me author, Trevor Hudson. I'll start with Trevor's first. 

"During the '70s and '80s some readers may recall an explosion of interest in the holy Spirit around the world. The so-called charismatic movement brought renewal to the lives of millions of Christ-followers. Many people, including myself, found themselves experiencing God in a new, fresh, and living way. Strikingly, a number of church leaders in South Africa who stood at the forefront of the struggle against apartheid at that time also participated in this wave of the Spirit. Involvement in the struggle for justice taking place on the streets required an empowerment that only the Spirit could give. This interest in God's Spirit also manifested unhelpful aspects. its focus on experiencing the Spirit led many into a search for mere spiritual thrills. We may find ourselves easily titillated by various phenomena when it comes to openness to the Spirit. Congregational division surfaced around these phenomena. One negative aspect was the casual way in which people sometimes referred to the Spirit. I still remember being asked, "Have you got it?" I never felt sure of how to answer. While I knew the person was referring to the Holy Spirit, sometimes I would jokingly say, 'Of course, I have got it. Why do you think [my wife] married me?" 

"Speaking of the Holy Spirit as an "it" suggests that the Spirit is some kind of invisible force or impersonal power or abstract influence. However, if this were really so, we would be unable to relate personally to the Spirit. Nor could the Holy Spirit guide, comfort, or lead people, which the Bible describes as activity of the Spirit. But even more sadly, regarding the Holy Spirit as an "it" encourages people to do and say some terrible things; often manipulating others to bring about desired effects" (19-20). 

These thoughts cause me to want to be particularly cautious when discussing the Spirit-filled life. I think I can safely write that the Holy Spirit comforted me yesterday in a number of ways. For the sake of safety, my husband and I were told the redwood tree would have to be cut down in small pieces; yet, they were able to cut them down in large enough sections for us to have something of remembrance made out of the wood. My student and I had ordered her textbooks on Monday using regular delivery; yet, they arrived within two days enabling us to start studying. My daughter's box of gifts arrived yesterday. Some want to say those are all coincidences. That's okay. It is also the Holy Spirit's job to reveal Himself; I don't have to force Him on anyone. Now, for Frank Laubach's letter of 7 October 1930. 

"It is the spirit of greed which Jesus said God hated more than any other. It is so diametrically opposite to the spirit of God. For God forever lavishes His gifts upon the good and bad alike, and finds all His joy in endless giving." 

Visions, Intentions, and Means for This Year's Journey

This is the second time I have pulled up my blog to write. The first time, I sat and sat and sat, until I gave up and logged out. Instead of sitting with no thoughts in mind, I did an Internet search on how to get to my granddaughter's birthday party at a pizza place forty-five minutes away. I had a vision of being at that party, but I also had another vision: It was of me lost two years ago coming home from that same pizza place. This time I am going with directions in hand. My RSVP (response to attend) signaled my intentions to follow through on my vision. All well and good, but I could have all the good intentions in the world, yet without the means and directions to do so, I will still be staying home.

All of this reminds me that our family's Magi are still on there way to see Jesus. They saw the "star in the east" and they had come "to worship him." If they had seen the star and done nothing more about it, their vision of the star would have been interesting, but that's about it. No adventure. No stories to tell in the future (people would soon tire of hearing how they saw a star). They intended to do something about seeing that star, and they did. They had the means to travel, but once they arrived in Jerusalem, they needed more: they needed directions (Matthew 2:1 does state that these were wise men). Without those means, all their visions and intentions would not have led them to a house in Bethlehem where "they saw the young child with Mary his mother, and fell down and worshipped him" (Matthew 2:11).

Our "wise men" are experiencing some rough terrain. Rough terrain has knocked more than a few off course from their visions and intentions. These Magi will make it to their destination in a couple more days. Only time will tell whether I follow through on my vision and good intentions over the next month.

I'm happy to share my journey with you, and I hope you, too, have a vision for the months ahead. 

9th Day? 10th Day? Failure Leads to Success

Ironically, I am posting about contemplation and wholeness just as the twelve days of Christmas move into a whirlwind of activity (ten lords a-leaping, eleven pipers piping, and twelve drummers drumming). No wonder most of us do not try to emulate the song. For those of us who have already celebrated Christmas Day (many Orthodox Christians will not celebrate until January 7), we are ready to take down the decorations, put the tree out with the trash, and be done with the holiday craziness.

I am persevering until Monday, January 6 which I have just found out is the 12th Day of Christmas. I have been off by one day apparently this whole time. Christmas Day is…well…Christmas Day, all on its own. I should have started counting on the day after Christmas Day. Now that I know, I can improve for next year's celebrations. Growth and improvement is what I am going for this year. The word I am keeping in mind is "Practice."

Practice one day; write the next. If all goes as planned (I write those words even though I know full well that events rarely go as planned), I'm going to practice six traditions or virtues.

On Sundays, I am going to practice Contemplation, specifically contemplation with God. Contemplation without God does not tend to lead to growth and improvement for me. On Mondays, I will write on how contemplation works out (and maybe I'll even keep practicing), but I will practice Wholeness on Monday. I think of these two streams of life as more internal.

Tuesday will be for practicing an Incarnational life where the inner life mingles with the outer life, while Wednesday if for Compassionate practices, practices that include social justice. So these two days are external.

Thursday and Friday will be for the distinctly spiritual practices. All streams or traditions are spiritual to me, but that is for another day and another blog. Thursday, I practice the Spirit-empowered life, and Friday is for the Evangelical life; although, those practices may surprise some readers.  

This year's adventures await me. Failure awaits me. I practice because I have never learned something perfectly the first time I did whatever I was doing, and basically practices are an accumulation of failures that help me learn until I succeed. (Look back up at the first image. Putting it into this blog did not go smoothly. I lost count on how many times I failed, but finally the moment came when the picture was here, without 5 inches of blank space and without gobbling up three other paragraphs.) As always, I am not practicing alone. I have a Helper. I have Emmanuel, whose birth I just celebrated, whose life I celebrate every day. 

I Choose Joy -- Day 17 of Advent

I don't always choose joy. Instead of sleeping last night, I was worrying about what I was going to write today. I kept considering titles and tossing them aside. When I finally fell asleep, I dreamed that I had attended a Christmas party but forgot to bring a gift for the gift exchange. It was a restless night. If I had been one of the shepherds hearing the good news at night, I probably would have been worried about moving the sheep in the dark. I'm a morning person; I can see "joy comes in the morning," but "I bring you good news of great joy" in the middle of the night -- not usually.

I'm better at choosing joy than I used to be. That may not be saying much since I still fail so many times each day; nonetheless, I am making progress. If you have been reading this blog (thank you, Mom) and know that I have been trying to post everyday, you noticed I missed on Sunday and doubled up yesterday. It was tempting to look at how I failed. But I also had the option of choosing joy: I wrote 14 days in a row! That is a first for me. On Monday, I managed to eek out another post, and here I am again.

Already this week, I have had multiple times of choosing between joy and not-joy. The picture below is my Christmas tree. If you think this tree looks like it is planted outside, you are correct.

This tree has to come out of the ground because it is growing too close to the birch trees and too close to wires. Therefore, it might as well be our Christmas tree. However, those of us who celebrate Christmas on December 25 have only 8 days left to get presents under the tree. My tree is still outside. (I've tried to talk my family into January 7, to no avail.) Do I want to choose joy or not-joy?

To not choose joy is counter-productive. When I don't choose joy, my mind seems to be paralyzed by whatever it is that I'm upset about: a lost note, long lines to stand in, a long list with still much to do, and I end up accomplishing LESS than if I had chosen joy. When I choose joy, my circumstances may remain the same, but my mind, body, and heart are released from paralysis and can choose creativity and/or peace.

I want to close by returning to a couple of comments Frank Laubach makes in his letters. He notices time and time again how he thinks more clearly during those times when his mind is on God.

"This concentration upon God is strenuous, but everything else has ceased to be so. I think more clearly, I forget less frequently. Things which I did with a strain before, I now do easily and with no effort whatever. I worry about nothing, and lose no sleep. I walk on air a good part of the time. Even the mirror reveals a new light in my eyes and face. I no longer feel in a hurry about anything…Each minute I meet calmly…I find also that the effort to keep God in my mind does something to my mind which every mind needs to have done to it. I am given something difficult enough to keep my mind with a keen edge. The constant temptation of every man is to allow his mind to grow old and lose its edge. I feel that I am perhaps more lazy mentally than the average person, and I require the very mental discipline which this constant effort affords."

I choose Jesus. I choose joy. And, I find that my mind is more present. I find that my heart is lifted out of the doldrums, and my body can pick itself up and move -- even if it means walking in the middle of the night with sheep bleating toward a stable where a little baby lies wrapped in swaddling clothes. 

Waiting with Joy? Excuse Me? -- Day 13 of Advent

Waiting…waiting…waiting…I. am. waiting. for. this. week. to. end! Writing a blog daily poses a couple of problems for me. My standard mode of operation includes procrastination which I have been unable to practice. My other problem is "Waiting." I am running out of words to write about waiting. I'm ready to move on to JOY.

What? Did I just hear one of you say there can be joy in waiting? No, we can't have joy. I can have peace, and faith, and hope, but no joy. That can only happen next week with the Shepherd's candle. Thank you very much.

I woke up this morning remembering that the little boy in this picture is now my grown up thirty-five year old son. The thirty years seem like a mere inhale and exhale. Yes, those thirty years included sorrow and sadness, but from my vantage point now, how I wish I had not, well, wished those days to move faster. Or, perhaps I should write, how I wished I had searched for and clung to every bit of joy that was there, sometimes hidden like a jewel, sometimes right out in the open, but my focus was too much on how I was barely hanging on.

Twelve more days until Christmas and the only sign of Christmas in my house is the empty stable on the fireplace (a fireplace that appears to be having structural issues), the shepherd watching his sheep on the piano, and Mary and Joseph on the move -- here clinging to the ledge of a bed foot board. Obviously, this Mary and Joseph are going to need a little help getting down. Me, too. When I'm out on a ledge waiting, I need a little help, too. I find it by waiting with the Psalms. I started to go right to Psalm 16 (one of my favorites) but my eye was drawn to Psalm 17 this morning: "I will call upon you, for you will answer me, O God; incline your ear to me, hear my words. Wondrously show your steadfast love, O savior of those who seek refuge from their adversaries at your right hand. Guard me as the apple of the eye; hide me in the shadow of your wings…As for me I shall behold your face in righteousness; when I awake I shall be satisfied, beholding your likeness" (6-8,15).

As I wrote those verses two songs built around that psalm came to mind, and I think of how music has played a part in bringing me joy in the waiting. And, when I ponder further, don't we play Christmas music throughout the month of December to help with the waiting for Christmas Day?

Yes, joy is available for me in the waiting: if I will look for it; if I will remember that time passes so quickly. What seems like waiting, waiting, waiting, will be gone quickly, and I don't want to miss one moment of joy or one moment of seeking refuge in God and waking in the morning beholding His likeness.

Now, my granddaughter has arrived, and I am going to go play! 

Looking at the written lines indicating recent posts has made me keenly aware of the importance of opening lines. I've always known an introduction is important, and a few authors come immediately to mind when I think of giftedness in this area: Austen, Nabokov, Wolfe (no, not that Woolf; although, her writing is exemplary as well-- Gregory Wolfe from Image magazine), James. Definitely not Trollope, poor fellow...or, rather not so poor as he was so prolific. He starts out boring as...well, real life, I suppose. Then, if we persevere, we are rewarded. Trollope's had a resurgence of popularity of late, but, in general, we like to be hooked from the beginning and you'd best keep on hooking us or we shall rip the hook from our mouth and move onto prettier hooks, leaving bits of our flesh as we go.