Details
I've been trying to come up with some kind of theme to tie together the bits and pieces that I want to post about. I've got nothing. Or, rather, I've got a thousand bits and pieces - quotes, ideas, significant events and insignificant details... They all fit together somehow, and maybe my problem is that I've been seeing more of the poetry than is typical recently, and it's all just a little overwhelming.
School this semester has been interesting. It took me a while to get going, and I did very little work for the first month. When February hit I found myself two weeks away from midterms and behind in everything. Somehow I managed to do enough work to feel prepared for my exams (pause with me a moment to revel in the glorious feeling of being prepared... it's an uncommon occurance for me in this program) without killing myself (sanity... a beautiful thing), so that was nice. There isn't a lot of middle-ground in my classes this semester - either they're wonderful and I love them, or... well, the opposite of that. Motor Speech Disorders is my favorite class because the subject matter is of great interest to me and the professor is a caring, interested, interesting person. Child Language Disorders is good because even though I'm not totally interested in working with kids, the prof is spectacular, with a wealth of clinical experience that she's eager to share and a willingness to go out of her way to make the class interesting and applicable. Clinical Research Methods is good because the prof is good. (And I'm a bit of a geek, and I don't mind the limited amount of stats we have to learn.) The other two are Language and Literacy and Adult Language Disorders (Aphasiology). They are frustrating, and I don't need to go into it here. Perhaps the most frustrating part is that these classes make for a lot of grumbling and general unhappiness among my classmates, and when you spend as much time with each other as we do, that can be a little trying.
My roommate moved out at the beginning of February. It was not because of her or me, but she ended up moving into a bachelor suite nearer to school, which hopefully will suit her better. I was absolutely dreading the prospect of having to look for a new roommate in the middle of the semester, but God is good and I should know by now not to worry so much. *grin* [Therefore do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own. - Matthew 6:34] Before I'd even started praying about it or posting ads, I got a phone call from a friend of a friend who was looking for a place to live, and who will be moving in at the beginning of next month. [Yes, many of you know both the friend and the friend in question. *grin*]
This month finds me pretty involved in church things, both at the church I've been attending (Knox), and also helping out at my parents' church (Glory). Last week I read the lessons at Knox. (Esther 4. Very exciting.) Tomorrow I'm leading worship at Glory. The week after that I'm playing the oboe at Knox. I'm playing the first movement of Gordon Jacob's Sonata for Oboe, a piece which I did for my performance exam at the end of my second year. Jacob is a 20th century British composer who's known for his excellent wind writing. He writes, "I think the question of communication is important, because one never wants to write down to an audience, but at the same time I personally feel repelled by the intellectual snobbery of some progressive artists… the day that melody is discarded altogether, you may as well pack up music…" Indeed. It's a beautiful piece of music, and I'm excited to make it performance-ready again.
I've been putting off this last section, because I have a hard time knowing where to start. There's so much back-story, and the way it's playing out is absolutely a God-thing and not something I've had much control over, so it's exciting, scary, inspiring, heady stuff. And it's a little funny, because when it comes down to it (when you read it in words on the screen) it will sound simple, intuitive and not nearly as overwhelming as it feels to me. I've started a small group. We are a group of people with a shared desire to live out what it is to be a Christian more actively and intentionally in our lives. Every other week we're planning on sharing a meal at my house. On the opposite weeks, we will serve people in need in our community. Not new concepts, by any means. What is new, for me, is actually doing these things rather than just talking about how great it would be. [Be the change you want to see in the world. - Gandhi] In the email I sent out as an invitation, I put it like this. Here's the bigger picture that I see: a place to question, discuss and discover; a place to go for support, friendship and prayer; a place to discover God in creation and in each other through art, worship or silence; a place to explore the Bible; a place to serve God and others; a place to be welcomed, whoever you are, whatever you believe, wherever you've been and whatever you're going through; a place to journey alongside others - because none of us are in this alone. We've met together twice so far. The first time was to share dessert and create a vision for what this group would be. Last night we had a potluck supper and created artwork that is now hanging on my living room wall. What I can't really express to you is the way that all the pieces are clicking into place... turtles sitting on fence posts... the poetry so clear and so exquisite. A million little things lining up with a shiver of "oh God..." and the unquestionable 'rightness' of it all.
And I just found the connecting piece. God is in the details. - Ludwig Mies van der Rohe
School this semester has been interesting. It took me a while to get going, and I did very little work for the first month. When February hit I found myself two weeks away from midterms and behind in everything. Somehow I managed to do enough work to feel prepared for my exams (pause with me a moment to revel in the glorious feeling of being prepared... it's an uncommon occurance for me in this program) without killing myself (sanity... a beautiful thing), so that was nice. There isn't a lot of middle-ground in my classes this semester - either they're wonderful and I love them, or... well, the opposite of that. Motor Speech Disorders is my favorite class because the subject matter is of great interest to me and the professor is a caring, interested, interesting person. Child Language Disorders is good because even though I'm not totally interested in working with kids, the prof is spectacular, with a wealth of clinical experience that she's eager to share and a willingness to go out of her way to make the class interesting and applicable. Clinical Research Methods is good because the prof is good. (And I'm a bit of a geek, and I don't mind the limited amount of stats we have to learn.) The other two are Language and Literacy and Adult Language Disorders (Aphasiology). They are frustrating, and I don't need to go into it here. Perhaps the most frustrating part is that these classes make for a lot of grumbling and general unhappiness among my classmates, and when you spend as much time with each other as we do, that can be a little trying.
My roommate moved out at the beginning of February. It was not because of her or me, but she ended up moving into a bachelor suite nearer to school, which hopefully will suit her better. I was absolutely dreading the prospect of having to look for a new roommate in the middle of the semester, but God is good and I should know by now not to worry so much. *grin* [Therefore do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own. - Matthew 6:34] Before I'd even started praying about it or posting ads, I got a phone call from a friend of a friend who was looking for a place to live, and who will be moving in at the beginning of next month. [Yes, many of you know both the friend and the friend in question. *grin*]
This month finds me pretty involved in church things, both at the church I've been attending (Knox), and also helping out at my parents' church (Glory). Last week I read the lessons at Knox. (Esther 4. Very exciting.) Tomorrow I'm leading worship at Glory. The week after that I'm playing the oboe at Knox. I'm playing the first movement of Gordon Jacob's Sonata for Oboe, a piece which I did for my performance exam at the end of my second year. Jacob is a 20th century British composer who's known for his excellent wind writing. He writes, "I think the question of communication is important, because one never wants to write down to an audience, but at the same time I personally feel repelled by the intellectual snobbery of some progressive artists… the day that melody is discarded altogether, you may as well pack up music…" Indeed. It's a beautiful piece of music, and I'm excited to make it performance-ready again.
I've been putting off this last section, because I have a hard time knowing where to start. There's so much back-story, and the way it's playing out is absolutely a God-thing and not something I've had much control over, so it's exciting, scary, inspiring, heady stuff. And it's a little funny, because when it comes down to it (when you read it in words on the screen) it will sound simple, intuitive and not nearly as overwhelming as it feels to me. I've started a small group. We are a group of people with a shared desire to live out what it is to be a Christian more actively and intentionally in our lives. Every other week we're planning on sharing a meal at my house. On the opposite weeks, we will serve people in need in our community. Not new concepts, by any means. What is new, for me, is actually doing these things rather than just talking about how great it would be. [Be the change you want to see in the world. - Gandhi] In the email I sent out as an invitation, I put it like this. Here's the bigger picture that I see: a place to question, discuss and discover; a place to go for support, friendship and prayer; a place to discover God in creation and in each other through art, worship or silence; a place to explore the Bible; a place to serve God and others; a place to be welcomed, whoever you are, whatever you believe, wherever you've been and whatever you're going through; a place to journey alongside others - because none of us are in this alone. We've met together twice so far. The first time was to share dessert and create a vision for what this group would be. Last night we had a potluck supper and created artwork that is now hanging on my living room wall. What I can't really express to you is the way that all the pieces are clicking into place... turtles sitting on fence posts... the poetry so clear and so exquisite. A million little things lining up with a shiver of "oh God..." and the unquestionable 'rightness' of it all.
And I just found the connecting piece. God is in the details. - Ludwig Mies van der Rohe