Do You Know It When You Hear It?

My daughter and I were riding around in the van together when I happened to play one of the tracks from my Charlotte Church CD.

It's my favorite track, and my favorite hymn, "Guide Me, Oh Thou Great Redeemer."

This hymn became my favorite in part because of this arrangement. The sound is really out of this world, featuring a huge men's choir backing Charlotte Church. You have to hear it on CD if you want to experience the full power of this tremendous masculine anthem with a gorgeous soprano rising over it.

When the arrangement ended, my daughter spoke from the backseat.

"Wow."

I knew what she meant. There's really no other response to that piece. I'm thrilled that she's now old enough and aware enough to know when she has just heard music that is extraordinary.

Can you name a musical performance or recording that never fails to produce the chills running up the arms, lump in the throat, "wow" reaction for you?




I'm linking a Youtube video of this song, which is not nearly as good as the CD because of the inferior sound, but it will give you the idea. If you would like to listen I recommend minimizing the video and just listening to the audio. (I find the video distracting because it isn't synched properly, and because the music is so powerful that visuals are overstimulating. The music starts about 30 seconds into the recording, after some applause and a brief comment from her.)

Charlotte Church sings "Guide Me, Oh Thou Great Redeemer"

The Book of Eli

If you haven't heard already, I have to let you know that The Book of Eli is a landmark movie for inspirational writers.

Personally, I really enjoyed it. I thought it was well-written and well-filmed (stylish, as one critic said). Denzel Washington and the rest of the cast did an excellent job.

So what's landmark about it?

The movie takes place in a post-apocalyptic world in which one man will do anything to preserve a special copy of the King James Bible.

This particular Bible is central to the story, and it is portrayed in a positive light. The man who has such faith in it is a hero, not a villain.

Pretty unusual for Hollywood.

Fair warning: if you only want to see sweetness and light onscreen, and you really object to any foul language at all, this movie may not be for you. But if you would enjoy a powerful film about the power of faith in a broken world, and you can take some violence and profanity, GO SEE IT.

I told my husband that this movie perfectly frames the debate within the CBA about whether or not we can include potentially-offensive material in our novels.

The Book of Eli will atrract a young male audience because it shows a man fighting his way through the harsh reality of a violent world. I've already seen these young men tweeting their approval of the movie.

The Hughes brothers and Denzel Washington are going to reach a bunch of people who wouldn't be caught dead in the inspirational section of the bookstore. Their film shows what it means to have faith and hope when all seems lost. And we should all be very, very happy about that.

Glimmerings of Grace

Me: Are you ready to go to sleep?

My Girl: Yes. But, (lower lip quivers) I feel bad about running away from Keely at Bounce U.

(My mind flashes back to the time six months ago when my daughter uncharacteristically decided to exclude one of her best friends by running away from her while they were playing with other friends at a local inflatable jumper place.)

Me: That was a long time ago. You don't have to feel bad about that anymore. You wish you hadn't done it, and that's enough. Jesus takes that pain that you feel for having done it, and he lifts it out of you and makes it go away. He says "That's OK. Everyone makes mistakes."

(My Girl's eyes fill with tears and she rubs them hard, leaving smears of water glistening under her eyes in the half-light that seeps from the hallway into her dark bedroom.)

Me: You know, in the past, I've done things that are much worse than anything you've ever done. And Jesus took the pain that I felt for doing those things, and made it go away, and he said that he loves me.

My Girl: What did you do?

Me: You're too young for me to tell you yet. But I've been forgiven, and I've forgiven myself. We all need to forgive ourselves for mistakes, just like Jesus forgives us.

My Girl: (lip quivering again) Did you bully people?

Me: (pause) Well, not exactly. But I was sometimes mean to people, and I really wish I had not done those things. It was back during that time I told you about, that time when I forgot that Jesus loved me.

My Girl: Oh.

Me: All these things we talk about in church have to sink into your heart, not just be things that we talk about. Now is a time when you can let this sink into your heart: everyone makes mistakes, and nothing you ever do can make Jesus or Mom stop loving you.

(My Girl throws her arms around me and we hug for a minute.)

Me: That's why we love Jesus so much. Because he takes away our pain, and tells us that he knows we are sorry--that everyone makes mistakes, and that he loves us. I love you.

My Girl: I love you, Mom.

Making Room for Silence

I had a wonderful opportunity for mental rest over the holidays.

I drove for many, many hours in silence while my daughter happily occupied herself with various travel activities in the back seat.

I discovered that I like my mental space. I enjoy having time for contemplation without a computer screen and social media.

Thus my dilemma.

I've found many rewarding friendships through social media. I've met really special people.

But mental background noise from social media is cramping my ability to practice the spiritual disciplines of solitude and silence.

I think I may try cutting back to only one day per week of blogging and visiting my friends' blogs. During the silence of my drive, I found new inspiration for my novel. I sorted through several complicated situations in my personal life, and I talked to God about them. (I've learned to keep my eyes open while praying and driving!) While I didn't "solve" any of these problems, I found peace with all of them.

I can't do without my silence. I have to make room for it.