repetition

"Lift the front of your hips and drop your tail over the balls of your feet", "hips!" "balls of your feet!!"

This is pretty much the extent of what I say during barre of my ballet 2 classes right now. I say it over and over for the 30-45 minutes that make up barre. I get tired of saying it and weary of saying it. I try to come up with new ways of saying it so that it might make more sense or finally break thru the teen-age fog of bodily awareness into an actual practice of continually checking placement and weight distribution on an individual, personal level....

My life is a lot about repeating right now. Olivia asks "why" often and about the same things often. You'd think as a person who has wanted to be a mommy all my life and has wanted to teach and instruct all of my life that I would be thrilled to find my life engulfed in endless "lessons" in why and how. I in fact find myself impatient most of the time.

I was reminded yesterday of Jesus patience. I think often I listen to the disciples responses and think they must've had the IQ of a 2 year old because they really didn't get what seems so obvious to us now. I mean, come on!

The story of Mary Magdalene at the tomb. She'd waited all Sabbath doing I can't even imagine what... it was unlawful for her to dress her savior's body on the Sabbath so she waited. I can't even imagine how long that day must have felt. Then she gets to the tomb before it's even light the next day and he's gone. I was sort of curious to see exactly how many times Jesus had predicted his crucifixion and resurrection, so I did a little research today. I decided to stay consistent to only look at John's account since that's the one that talks about Mary Magdalene and then of the disciple's unbelief when she tells them that he is gone from the tomb. Turns out there are at least 11 times Jesus foretells his death and subsequent ascension (John 8:28; 10:17; 12:7, 23-36; 13:31-35; 14:2, 18-19; 16:4b-11, 16-20, and 28; and 17:11). And these are only the times when it's fairly clear what he's talking about. Now to be fair to Mary, she wasn't present for most of these, so she's at least a little off the hook right? lol. Still, I think if I'd been Jesus, when I appeared in that upper room where they were all hiding out shaking in their boots I would've done some serious eye rolling and palming my forehead and "oh my gosh!!! I told you...". But no. He just loves them and re-assures them, giving them His Spirit.

Ugh! And I feel I have some right to be frustrated because I have to repeat colors with Olive? Or potty training lessons? Or placement corrections in class? Of what worth are those things compared to Christ's repetition? Oh for patience and humility. Oh! to be like Christ in his death and resurrection... and so to love repetition.

Monday

There's something wonderful about a Monday. And, that statement is funny too because I used to hate Mondays. But this week Monday represents the opening of a new, and hopeful, and full of possibility week.

There was a storm this weekend. There was also an inner storm this weekend. They have both done their good work and left the world more beautiful for their time spent here.

Isn't it amazing how clean the air is after a good rain? How blue the sky seems when the wind has blown all the clouds away. How sweet affection and friendship is when discord has previously set you momentarily at odds.

And then storms don't come out of nowhere do they? They are generally seasonal, and connected to the important work of growing and nurturing, watering and flourishing. It would do me well to remember this fact. I might be more encouraged by storms in my life when they hit me.

On a less flowery note, I am struggling with the idea of enforcing my will. I know how to do it in a class-room, and that is for a very limited space of time for a specific reason, but somehow it seems too selfish when it's me forcing my will upon my daughter. I know only too well that my will is usually informed by my selfish desires. I want her to get dressed in under 30 minutes. I want her to eat in under an hour. I want her to take a nap when I put her down so that I don't have to awaken a dragon to get to work on time... These are things I want to make my life easier and more enjoyable. I like efficiency. I like organization. I am frustrated with my 2 year old dominated world. I understand that it's important for her to learn that the world revolves around the sun not around Olivia, it's important that she does eat and does get a nap, but I often feel selfish insisting it be done on my timeline... It's hard for me to evaluate if I am looking to the good of Olivia or if I'm looking to my fleshly desires. Pray for me.

And now, to soak in some more of my Monday. :)

Symphonic

Imagine the different sections of an orchestra. Sometimes they all play, sometimes certain sections are featured and the others support, sometimes they are discordant to make us ache for the forthcoming resolve when the harmony brings such relief... my life of late has been a soft melody gently floating between the different orchestral areas and smoothly passing off from one to another. This weekend marked a climax where they all played passionately and with full force and to tell you the truth I didn't enjoy it.... don't get me wrong, my weekend was great. All the circumstances were well orchestrated, but there was a stirring in my soul that I had to address and it was humbling and tiring.

The first layer I suppose would have to be my new beau Michael. I have been so enjoying getting to know him more and all the wonderful things that come with getting to know and grow affection for a good man. How could this be a bad thing you ask? Only in this, as we drove home all dressed up and decked out in our finest after a perfect day at the Gala we'd been to, I realized that right now he still saw me like this. I am in his eyes still at my finest, on my best behavior, and I have chemicals on my side working full time to create a smoke and mirrors effect on his brain and mine... but one of these days will he look over and wonder what he ever saw in me? Will he see the constant noise that rules in my brain and feel that it's just not worth it? How long before he sees the real me, the one that years ago I became exhausted of living with, and beg out?

This symphonic movement is overlapped by my past. I am walking with a friend down a road in her life that I have been down in my past. I am so thankful that the Lord is using my ugly past to bring hope, strength, and gospel truth to one so dear. I am encouraged that I may possibly be able to encourage her and keep her from walking out lengths of the road that I did tread. While there is such hope here, I am also humbled to realize that I am weak. But for the strength of His applied grace to me I would be there again in an instant.

And back to the first layer answering this unsteady melody. Michael asked a question about my past as I was involved in a church while living in sin....I felt defensive and didn't want to explore why, but eventually did...

And now the sections play together echoing and answering and I am broken. Even today, even while I am dwelling in the richness of His grace I know that if it were up to me I would stray again "prone to wander Lord I feel it, prone to leave the God I love...." This is why He is insane to love me and why Michael would be insane to stay.

And who will save me from myself? The fearful reality that no battle is ever won-and-done. That we are never safe even once saved. And so let me chose wisely the foods I choose to feast on, actively choosing to cloth myself in the Gospel every second of every day so that I might not be paralyzed by my fear of failure or betrayal, but rather proclaim gladly His salvation. "Here's my heart Lord, take and seal it, seal it for Thy courts above"