Snow Day 2016

Today the schools and many businesses were closed due to all sorts of snow.  I worked some from home and was grateful to not be among those whose electricity went out.  Here's what it looked like in our neighborhood.

Had a hard time getting the back door open this morning there was so much snow against it.

Backyard (with Samson prints)

Just a little bit of snow on the car and it was still coming down...at an angle.

Front yard

Bored construction workers went door-to-door offering snow shoveling services.
Thank you, Jesus, for bad construction weather!

Those guys did an awesome job!  They even cleared off the car!
They'd have done more, but to get to the back they'd have had to go through the house.

Supposedly we're going to get another 1-3 inches of snow in Lincoln this afternoon.  Guess we'll see.  Meanwhile, Samson is taking advantage of my being home and enjoying playing in the snow.  I've been working, and foster kid has been watching videos on her phone in her room.  And we wait to see what the weather holds for tomorrow.

Two German Movies

In the last couple days I watched two German movies set during the beginning of the Third Reich's rise.  They were both good and subtitled (...the movies, not the Third Reich): "Gloomy Sunday" (in which practically everyone dies...though many not for the reason you'd expect) and "The Harmonists" (which is a true story and everyone lives).

Both, darn them, made me cry.  It's hard not to cry when we are talking about the displacement, rounding up and murdering of people just because of their race and/or faith.  Part of the difficult part was watching the actors' portrayals of these people as the realization sunk in of exactly what was happening - the dawning of the understanding that "I'm going to be persecuted and/or killed because" they (or the people they loved) were Jewish by heritage or by choice.  I suspect if the actors hadn't done their jobs, the movies wouldn't have made me cry.

Both also starred or co-starred the same guy in the role of the "Christian," Aryan *bleep* about whom you're never quite sure of his motivations or intentions...until the end. Spoiler Alert!  In "Gloomy Sunday," karma came back and bit him.  In "The Harmonists," it turns out he was one of the good guys...until his friends were safely out of Nazi Germany and then he went to work for them (but you don't know it until the "after stories" are told at the end).

Both movies also were centered around music.  I must have been in a dark, music-centric place at the time I put them on my Netflix list...or maybe I was hot on the trail of that particular actor...though nothing else on my list would lead me to believe that.  Must have been a coincidence.

I do recommend them both if you can handle the following: foreign films, foreign music, and the touch of romantic in the drama.  (Warning you, though, that "Gloomy Sunday" is a bit risqué at times for the sensitive types.)  Of the two, however, I think I liked "The Harmonists" much more partly because it was a biography (told as a movie, not like the History Channel or something), there were more dynamics in the storyline, and fewer uncovered bodyparts.

I probably need to watch something lighter for a while...like "Star Trek: The Animated Series."

Day...3 Months and a Couple Days

Today we spoiled ourselves...or, more specifically I spoiled us.

We slept in late and then went to lunch at Noodles & Co.  I love that place.  She'd never been there before.  They screwed up and gave our food to someone else, so they gave us free garlic bread and a free cookie - all for her, of course since I couldn't eat any of it.  The food tasted great when we finally did get it.  She's totally a fan now.

Then we went to Barnes & Noble.  The Manga books were on sale so instead of only being able to get one or two, we were able to get three.  I got a couple new little kid books that I look forward to reading to the younger family and friends who visit.  We also used some coupons to get cheese cake...which I think she ate as soon as we got home.

After B&N we came back to our side of town and had our nails done.  She got a manicure while I got a pedicure.  It was so relaxing!  I hadn't stopped to do something girly like that since about September, so it was nice to be pampered a little.

I think we've not been able to do something like this since she got here until now.  Maybe I've been too busy or tired, or she's been too hurt by her situation.  It was nice to see her smile and laugh and enjoy herself (excitedly suggesting we should buy a Barnes & Noble and kick everyone else out so all the books could be ours).  It was a good day.

About a week and a half ago she gave me a beautiful thank you note written on the back of a picture she had drawn for me.  I was tired and sore and cranky (inside) when she gave it to me, but for a while at the very least, it kind of made things worth the additional stress, time, and energy.  Today had a similar effect.

Movie Review: The Physician

Last night I watched "The Physician" via Netflix.  I liked it more than I expected.  Ben Kingsley of course was his usual masterful self, but I think it was the history, politics, and religion depicted that fascinated me the most.  It was set in the 11th century, but it just as easily could have been about today's tension between the world's major religions.  I recommend it.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IOj-Pn5WJkw

A Heart of Wisdom

Psalm 90:12 (NASB)
So teach us to number our days,
That we may present to You a heart of wisdom.

I get a "verse of the day" emailed to me every day from Biblegateway.com.  That verse from The Psalms was the one for today.  It made me stop and think a moment.

The first thing that jumped out at me was the idea of numbered days.  Generally when you hear someone say something about numbering your days, it's a cheesy line in an action movie and something's about to explode - it's a threat of death.  Numbered days are finite days.  They run out.  And this verse would encourage us to take note of that number - count our days and know they are finite.  We count so many other things.  We count our cars, our money, our friends, slights against us by another.  We have calendars for keeping track of our days - all 365 or so of them per year.  And then the new year comes around and we wonder where they all went!  Maybe we weren't doing such a good job of counting them after all...or, more importantly, making them count.

I have been trying to make it a habit in the last couple months to include in my prayers the request for wisdom.  (It worked for Solomon, right?)  Specifically, I have been requesting the wisdom to discern the correct path.  I wonder if I've not had quite the right idea in mind.  We tend to equate wisdom with the mind, not the heart.  I've been asking to be able to think and reason wisely.  I hadn't even thought about my heart.  The Old Testament says that Solomon's wisdom was "put in his heart" by God.  So, stands to reason, it wasn't so much Solomon's mind that people were coming to see in action, but his heart.  When's the last time you said that about someone or someone said that about you?

So, in looking at this part of a prayer in Psalm 90, my take away (at least in part) is this.  The wise recognize the finite nature of the time we have and make each day count by being wise in heart.  It's a cycle worth getting into I think...if I'm wise.

Study on a Verse

"Oh, that I Had a Thousand Voices"
Lutheran Worship
Verse 2
O all you pow'rs that he implanted,
Arise, keep silence now no more;
Put forth the strength that God has granted!
Your noblest work is to adore.
O soul and body, join to raise
With heartfelt joy our maker's praise.

Last Sunday we were singing that song in church (theme was "Songs of Praise") and I almost didn't make it through that verse.  I've sung that song innumerable times.  For the first time it struck me that this verse was talking about me.  It was describing my every Sunday and how I ought to be every day.

All You Pow'rs
We often think of worship as requiring just the use of our voice - especially when you are a church vocalist.  The day before and of a service, one of the foremost thoughts in my mind is for the well-being of my voice.  I have to be able to speak and sing to do my "job" in worship - to pray, to respond, to sing.  But this verse says all powers.  What are all those powers implanted by God?  My eyes, my ears, even my feet and hands are included.  Worship isn't just done with our voices.  We are meant to worship God with our whole selves - every member - all of our bodies.

Arise
I am not a morning person.  Asking me to rise is asking a fair bit...and yet, in the scope of things, not so much.  "Get up!" the song says.  "Use those powers of yours to worship God in all you do - no more keeping quiet."  That's no easy thing.  My instinctual desire is to stay home in bed asleep (not just Sunday mornings, but every morning).  I don't want to get up every day and go out into the yucky world making an example of myself or using my gifts for God.  That requires work.  Staying in bed or otherwise isolating myself from the world would be much easier.  But God says, "get up and go."

The Strength God Granted
Some of you know I spend every moment of every day with some level of tired, aches and pains thanks to fibromyalgia.  Strength seems to be in short supply - but there is still some sort of a supply.  I'm not without strength, just maybe not the same quality or quantity others might have.  And, maybe more than some other folks, I have a better appreciation for where I get the strength I have.  It is not something I create myself, that much is certain.  My body is weaker than other bodies, than the body of my youth.  My spirit gets tired and my energy low more or faster than it once did.  I can do all in my power with diet, activity, and et cetera, but this is something I will be living with in some way likely the rest of my life.  I have to trust every morning that God will give me the strength I need physically, emotionally, mentally, spiritually to get through the day.  And he does provide it.  Sometimes I'm coming to the end of the day with nary an ounce left in me, but it was still enough even if just.  It was just enough to get up, go to work to make the money to buy the organic food and pay for the medicine and medical professionals, and eek out the foster parenting, god-mothering, choir, and music coordinating.  Sometimes there's even a bit to spare for other things.  I'm grateful for every ounce of strength God does grant me because I know it actually could be much less.

Noblest Work
I have a job and I'm pretty good at what I do, but I wouldn't call it my "noblest work."  I'm also a soprano - fun, but not noble.  I pick music for a church service every week.  I guess that's a little more "noble," but still, couldn't just about anyone pick some songs?  I think a little higher on the nobility scale would be my roles as foster-parent, auntie, and especially godmother.  But, my noblest work is to adore God.  How can that be?  Spending an hour at church (or more) isn't the only way to adore God.  I can show my adoration in more than just participation at worship.  I can adore God in the way I do all those other things I do - right down to my day job.  First love God, then show it.

Soul and Body
There are some things we do that are so old hat that we don't think twice (or even at all) when we do them.  Have you ever driven to or from work and reached your destination only to realize you don't remember hardly a moment of the journey?  Your body goes through the motions but you weren't really fully engaged in whatever you were doing.  It happens even when we worship - especially if you've grown up with it I think.  There are liturgies and prayers and hymns that I've been singing or saying my whole life.  It is incredibly easy to just "check out" and go through the motions of worship without really being cognizant of the words and the meaning behind them.  How many things in our lives become this way?  We go through the motions of loving our neighbor, our family, our friends, but maybe we aren't really thinking about what we're doing or why.  God doesn't want just our mindless motions.  We should be thoroughly engaged in what we're doing - body and soul.

Heartfelt Joy
In his letter to the Philippians, Paul advises the readers to be joyful or rejoice always, in all things.  Being joyful is easy when things are easy and going well.  But always?  And heartfelt no less?  Seriously?!  Well, yes, actually.  Ever shared your joy with someone only to have that person merely feign interest or only halfheartedly rejoice with you?  Or ever loved someone only to not have that love returned?  Now imagine (if possible) that you are God, worthy most certainly of all love and trying desperately to share your joy and love for your creation with that creation.  Much of that love is unrequited, taken for granted, or only halfheartedly or with circumstantial bias returned.  If we would say we wouldn't deserve that kind of treatment, can we really expect the very God of the universe to deserve such behavior?

All these things were striking me at once as we sang that verse and I was feeling myself moved to tears as I sang so I did my "job" in that moment by detaching and focusing on technique instead of what was yanking at my heart and whispering in my ear.  But I did go back later and reread that verse again while I waited for the next service to start...and I cried.  I admit it.  I was emotional as I saw in that verse what God has done to make it possible for me to go every Sunday and be refreshed in worship.  He gives me the physical tools and abilities, surely, but also the strength and energy I cannot do without.  I was emotional as I saw, too, that I also often keep quiet when I should speak.  I often do not make good use of the granted powers and strength.  I too frequently just go through the motions being disengaged and halfhearted where I should make the effort to be engaged and give God my heartfelt joy.

I suspect there was a reason my attention was caught by these thoughts and I felt an overwhelming need to share them (even if almost a week later).  I hope that personally I might embrace some of these things more fully or make corrections to my behavior as able.  It was also nice to be reminded that the words we sing in worship do have meaning.  Maybe, if nothing else, I've shown that to you here, too.

WTH, Corrine?!

I've been meaning to write this post for a while and have just been so busy I kept putting it off because I wanted to take my time and make every word count...so I'm writing it late in the evening while totally exhausted, having so many other things that need to be done, and I really should be in bed...so we'll see how this goes.

There are some who have wondered (out loud and otherwise) what the hell I think I'm doing.  Here I am a single woman with something like a career, church work, choir obligations, family nearby, health "stuff" and et cetera, and I go and become a foster parent.  (My sanity especially seems to come into question for doing this without a spouse.)  So I want to take a moment here to maybe clear up a few things.

1. I am not insane...or no more than usual.  So let's just make that clear from the outset.

2. The Bible says to care for the widow and the fatherless.  My own faith encourages me consciously or subconsciously to do something to help people less fortunate than myself; therefore, in a way, I cannot help but do this.  If I can positively impact even one life, I have fulfilled a God-driven purpose for my life.

3. In that vein, I have a home large for my own personal needs.  Samson and I don't need all this space for ourselves.  Why not share it?

4. I'd have the same health issues regardless of what I was up to here, there, or whatever.  No matter what, some of these things will be with me for the rest of my life.  I'm not going to sit around a big empty house letting my health degrade my quality of life when I can be finding ways to ensure I've had a quality life despite my health.  I will not let it define or hinder me if I can help it.  (And, in case there was any doubt, I can.)

5. Whom I take into my home is my choice.  When the agency calls and says "can you take such and such a kid," I can say "no."  Or I can say "yes."  It's up to me.

6. Being single has not been my choice.  Of course I'd prefer to do this with a spouse!  But being single does not mean I can't be a parent.  Obviously I can do better even alone than some people can do with a partner or some kids wouldn't be in foster care, so that argument does not hold water with me.

7.  I have so much love to give.  This is probably the biggest motivation behind my choice.  I was born and raised to be a wife and mom and life has not seen fit to allow me either of those roles.  I can pour myself as much as possible into being Auntie and godmother, but still I need an outlet for all that love (above and beyond the dog - sorry, Samson).  These kids need someone to show them love.  As I have a surplus, why not share it with those who are in need?

I don't know if the dissenters out there will ever read this post (in whole or in part) or if they do that it would make any sense or difference.  I felt I would be remiss if I didn't at least try to explain why I chose to be a foster parent and maybe dispel some of the false assumptions some might make.  I still would consider adoption from foster care if something like that were to work out, but presently, I am a temporary mother and provider for kiddos in need.  I have a hard time believing that there is anything wrong with that, and I am open to other suggestions God might have should he decide I should do something different.  I just ask that he allow me the wisdom to recognize the path He has in mind.