Labor OR Love?

          Recently I picked up a magazine and, scanning through the news section, one quote really got my attention.


           "If you love it, it's not work."

The quote read. 

I've heard this before. Confucius (a man who I think should have been named 'Confusing'), an Eastern thinker to have one of the greatest impacts on Western culture is oft quoted to have said, "choose a job you love and you will never have to work a day in your life." 

       It seems that in today's culture, most people have accepted the idea that work and pleasure are two opposing forces in life; that if something is work, one will by default not enjoy it. 

       Therefore, it seems to follow that if you love something, it's not work. Though I know what many of these people are intending to say with statements such as these, I don't like the trajectory that such a definition of work can cause. It's important, I think, to be careful how we use the word. Somehow, work is seen as a bad thing, a thing to be gotten over with each day so that one can "enjoy life." Work is a burden to be cast off if possible, a humble circumstance to rise above at all costs. 

        Thousands of pounds of ink have been expended on reams beyond number of paper, filled with strategies, some blatantly wacky, some naively honest, some ominously clever, and some foolishly stupid regarding how to make a living with very little to no work.

        Thousands of complaints are made by hard working capitalists regarding the welfare system. I've even grumbled several of them myself. "It's not fair that we should slave so hard every day over our work to pay for people who get to just sit back and do nothing." We grumble.

       A few months however, a question was posed to me which I would in turn like to ask all of you.

      If you were offered the chance to not have to work, would you take it? 

       Would we choose not to work if we didn't have to? Many people would jump at the chance, but after considering the question for some time, I decided I probably would keep working. More than that, I realized I didn't want to ever be in the position where I didn't have to work. Otherwise, the temptation not to work might be too strong. 

      Why do I want to keep working?

       The answer has been pounded into me all my life but I never really understood it until about a year ago. I heard a lecture by a man whose name I can't even remember. He stated the answer I had heard all my life again, but made it abundantly clear to me  in a way I hadn't considered. 

      The answer I've been told all my life is: "We were created to work." 

It made sense, Adam and Eve were put in the garden as caretakers of it, not to be cared for in it.  

However, last year's lecture really hit it home. 

     You see, if we don't work, not only have we lost our sense of purpose since, we were indeed created to work, but we have become useless rather like an egg-beater which is no longer required to beat eggs and so sits idle in the cabinet gathering inches of dust, it's parts rusting from the inside out.

     But think about all the things I could do if I didn't have to work....if I had no responsibilities, one might respond. I've thought about this too.

    The unnamed lecturer told us a story of an older woman whom he had befriended who told him of the hard life she had growing up. Everybody working to support the family, everybody contributing, somehow to make ends meet. They got up early, went to bed late, worked hard jobs, one member of the family was an invalid. 
      The speaker asked this friend of his once if she ever missed those days.

      Her answer was not as surprising to me as the reason she gave for it. "Yes," she said, "sometimes I miss those days. In the end, we were all happy, because...." this was what really got me, "because," she said, "we all knew that we were needed."

     They were needed....that was what made them happy. It all made sense now, why tragedy and loss brings people together. Why people who are hard workers generally have better lives. Why children who have chores growing up usually have happier lives than those who are raised with no responsibilities, and weekly allowances. 

     I'll tell you honestly, friends, I realized at this moment that this was one of my biggest struggles with just keeping on with life. So many times I didn't feel needed. So many times, in this pampered life we live, I felt completely useless, that I could die tomorrow and after the hubbub and tears died down life would go on with no one being the worse for my not being there. 

Do you ever feel that way?  

Well, allow me to say the statement that everybody responds with when someone admits feeling such a thing, "Don't say that honey, everybody has a purpose, and everybody is needed no matter how small the things he does." Right? 

We would all say that, wouldn't we?

But do we really believe it?

This very gifted speaker confirmed this premise in my mind with a story about a bagging man at a grocery store.

 Seriously? A bagging man? How much more ignominious can you get than that in terms of really being needed.

 Well, to the speaker this man was by no means expendable. 

  This particular bagger, consciously or not, was out to prove to the world that no person no matter how small his task was dispensable. He knew how to bag. He would put like items together, set everything in like a well ordered puzzle, he filled the bags so that each one weighed about the same.

"When you're doing grocery shopping for your wife and you have a couple of young children at your heels," the speaker said, "you realize how much of a blessing a good bagger can be. I knew," he said, "That none of the bag handles were going to break on me because the items were improperly balanced. I knew that none of my groceries were going to get damaged." 

We all know what it's like to get home and find that your chips have become crumbs and your spaghetti is half the length it's supposed to be because the bagger just tossed everything in as fast as he could. 

"I even knew," the speaker went on, "how many bags I could carry at a time because of how well weighted they were." He went on to say, "this man, by doing his small job well, was not only a blessing to me but by saving me time and effort was adding value to my life."

      Wow, this was revolutionary to me. To think that the things we do can add value to another person's life. I decided to take that statement as my "mantra" if you will. To say you want to be a blessing to people is not only overused, but cliche. I decided that I wanted to state my life purpose here on earth as being here to add value to people's lives. Think about it, no matter what you do, whether it's babysitting, changing a diaper, washing dishes, waiting on a table, cleaning a bathroom, working at a checkout counter, teaching an instrument, illustrating a novel, whatever it is, you're not just making money so that you can go and have fun. You, in the very act of your work, are helping another person in some way and by doing so you are adding value to that person's life.

     This is why work and pleasure shouldn't be opposing opposites, they should be complimentary words. The fact that you have joy in it should affirm the work and the fact that you're doing good work should lead to great pleasure.

    Alright, I'll stop with the lecture.....this is a blog post not a sermon. Anyhow, I'd like to encourage all of you not to pity the welfare people rather than envy them or get angry at them....they don't have the tremendous privilege of adding value to other people's lives, and in the end adding purpose and value to their own. And not just that, but do your work well, friends, because you have no idea the impact you're making on someone just by cleaning those dishes properly.

   Think about that bagger who I never met. The speaker didn't even mention his name, and yet he was used as an inspiration for a room of one-hundred plus seminary students who are probably going to go out and impact the world with their work ethics. 

     The verse in proverbs speaks truth when it says, "Do you see a man skilled in his work? He will stand before kings." ~ Proverbs 22:29

   Okay, really, no more preaching...I thought in this particular case I'd share with you a classical work...yes it's long....but if you're having trouble studying this might actually help besides being absolutely magnificent....Let me know what you think of this tone poem by Czech composer Bedrich Smetana called the Moldau.



  Doesn't that piece just inspire you to go out and do great things?
  
  ~ Let's not be content with just surviving. Let's not separate pleasure from work. Let's take delight in every stroke of the pen in every wail of the spoiled brat we have to babysit. Let's enjoy hearing the same song played with the same wrong note for the one-hundredth time. Let's thank God that we have the ability to work and add value to people's lives. And when we do get a vacation let's find something else to work on. Something different and fun of course, but that doesn't mean it's not work...embrace the word and make it your motto and resist the reflex of disgust and repugnance which switches on when you hear the word. Let it thrill you to your core! 

       Alright, I consider you my lifelong friends if you actually read through this entire post, but I still hold you in high esteem if you at least listened to the entire song and enjoyed it! Extra points in my favor are earned if you did both. ;)

       Keep up the good work!

   ~ Christianna 

Beloved of The Lord

          What makes a person lovable?

          Most people will tell you it's based on some qualities that person possesses, such as selflessness, kindness, compassion, the ability to listen, a good sense of humor....the list goes on. Psychologists will tell you a person has to be real and genuine to be any of the above, and that thus, confidence in oneself is the true key to becoming a lovable person.

          How many of you have heard something along the lines of "you need to embrace yourself" cited as the straight and narrow way to lovableness?

          How many movies, articles and stories in modern society have you watched or read in which the main premise is that to be loved by others one must first love oneself? I know I get pelted with it everyday.

         Many of you probably saw the 2017 Disney live-action movie "Beauty and The Beast." If not, I think most of you know the story. We all know how Belle comes to love the beast by seeing what a kind, thoughtful individual he was in spite of his sinister appearance and surly manners.

       I always wondered, though, what would have happened to him if the beast was as nasty on the inside as he was on the outside. If he had been so, even sweet, kind Belle would have been all for killing him, I believe. Because when it comes down to it, nobody cares for a truly unlovable person....right?

        Pop culture today says that for a person to become lovable he must first love himself. All I can say is, everybody's tried it and it doesn't work.

        When a baby is born into the world, it has nothing to recommend itself. It brings nothing but the most narcissistic attitude on the planet. It cries whenever it's uncomfortable, never says thank you for anything, but takes everything given as though it is owed it because of who it is.

       Babies are, in every sense of the word, the epitome of unloveliness.

           Yet....

       We all know there is nothing stronger than a mother's love for her child. When a young mother holds her newborn child in her arms for the very first time, I'm told, she experiences a bond, a love for that baby like nothing she has or will ever experience. She will give up her life for that tiny, self-centered brat. For years, a mother, labors over, and loves that child. For years, there's nothing about the child that really makes her want to spend time with that child for any other reason than the fact that he's her child. Until one day, the mother wakes up and realizes that her child has become a really nice person. Someone whom people like, respect, and whose company other individuals enjoy to be around.

        What made that child lovable?

       The mother's love.

        To become lovable, that child had to be loved first. It happens for every individual. Science has already confirmed that you can't raise a baby without love. It will die if you try it. The fundamental reason for suicide is that the perpetrator believes somewhere deep down inside that he is unloved.

        My friends, I'd like to submit to you that this all points to a fundamental truth that to become lovable, a person must first be loved. The more deeply and certainly an individual knows he is loved, the more that individual will love, and thus become lovable in himself.

        Don't just believe this because I'm saying it. What does the Scripture say in that passage in Romans that all of us memorized as children.

       "For One Will hardly die for a righteous man, though perhaps for a good man one would dare even to die. But God demonstrated his own love towards us, in that while we were yet sinners, Christ died for us." 
            ~ Romans 5:7-8

     Last season when I was part of the seminary choir we sang a song in which the original words began, "You didn't want heaven without us, so Jesus you brought heaven down." Well, all the seminarians were up in arms at that statement. With absolutely no opposition from the rest of us, a couple of the men speedily changed the words to "you could have had heaven without us, but Jesus you brought heaven down." This made me incredibly happy not just because that's what I believe as well, but because I was singing with a whole bunch of people who understood that Jesus didn't save us because we were in any way deserving of it. No, we were wretched, worms. Miserable, members in no way meritorious of the meanest ministration. Yet, God loved us, and that, good readers, made all the difference.

      What difference does this make? Well, for starters...

      When I know that God's love for me isn't dependent on what I do. I am free to do good because I want to, not to save myself somehow, or appease God. Because He loves me unconditionally, I have hope that He can redeem my life in spite of all my miserable failings. Because His love for me transcends my actions, I can give that same love to others, because I know that whatever the result, there will always be someone who loves me. 

        Thinking about this sends goosebumps up my spine. To think He loves us that much. I'm never happier then when I really believe that. And I think that when one knows surely and fully that God loves him beyond his ugliness of body and soul; no one is more lovable.


        And now as I close, as you all know, it's song time.... ;)

  I thought for this post it would be fitting to share with you an adaption of Titanic's theme song "My Heart Will Go On," by a couple of my dear college friends.

   If there are any of you hard-core menfolk reading this post, please don't close the page in absolute disgust just yet. When I say adaption, I really mean adaption. My talented colleagues turned this from an "ooey-gooey" love song into a sweet reassurance of God's love and the love we can share with each other.
 
   Trust me and watch it(all the way through) before you make any sweeping assertions....you might even like it!


      Wasn't it beautiful? Isn't it wonderful to know you are loved no matter what?

             I'll say one last thing before I close.

                     When mommy used to tuck us each into bed, she would say every night:


  "Mommy loves you, and Daddy loves you, and all your brothers and sisters love you, but Jesus loves you most of all, and he is your good Shepherd and you are his little lamb."

  Even today, I strive to carry those words in my heart and I'd encourage you to do the same. Nothing in this world can really bother you when you know that Jesus loves you most of all.


       ~ Christianna
 



God is My Judge

         I can still remember that moment. The memory is indelibly  stamped in my head. A girl of about thirteen walks into church, her head bowed, her eyes filled with tears. She takes her seat and stays there, not daring to get up and walk around. She keeps her faced cradled in her hands. After church, she hides, slinks around corners, never being so polite as to make eye-contact with those who speak to her, she mumbles a reply, head bent, shoulders hunched as though willing herself, with all the energy she usually possesses, to make herself invisible or at least unnoticed. She can't bear the contraption she is forced to wear. Her parents just don't understand her. The think it will be for her good, but she wishes they could only feel the way she could feel now, then they'd understand. They'd know how utterly humiliating it felt, how crushingly ugly it made her look. However, her father wouldn't let her take them off. He made a rule, she had to wear it. The injustice of it all. How could he? He didn't have to wear it, otherwise he'd surely understand the disgrace she was in.

........Glasses, how she loathed them!

  Yes, my friends, that was me on my first day having to wear corrective lenses to church. When I was around ten, my eyes started getting near-sighted. By the time I was thirteen, they had gotten to the point where I could hold a book no further than three inches from my nose if I was to be able to read it. So, when I was thirteen my parents decided I needed glasses. I dragged my feet the entire way, crying and protesting. I was terrified as being thought of as "bookwormish" and nerdy, terrified of being called four-eyes by my father and siblings who honestly thought that would 'desensitize' me to the whole thing....I wasn't that kind of person; the name stung worse than a rod. What would people think of me? Especially, in my mind, glasses were a sign of weakness. I hated the thought of there being a part of me that was obviously vulnerable to other people. I was of  the opinion that it was better to be alone, than to be hurt. It's a feeling I still struggle with, I'd like to bury all my insecurities, failings, fears and limitations down out of sight of others, and present this invincible person whom everyone understands he'd better not mess with.
   
      To make a long story short, I hated wearing glasses because I feared people more than anything. I feared their judgements, their assumptions, their thoughts about me. I feared them because they had become my judges. Though I wouldn't have admitted it, nor even believed such a travesty of myself--I made myself believe at the time that I didn't care a fig about other people's opinions--I allowed others to dictate my life. I allowed them to be my judges.

       In time I got over the glasses. In time, as most of you know, I got contact lenses. The issue became obsolete at that point, but there were other "corrective-lenses" in my life. These things were a part of me, things I learned, things I needed, but things I was afraid of showing to the world because of how they would judge me.

       One of the biggest aspects of these was actually in the realm of music. Between the ages of ten and eighteen, I was known to my family and friends as the biggest hymn and Classical enthusiast the world had ever known; metaphorically speaking, of course. This was true, and still is true. There's nothing that inspires or fires me like Classical music can. Nothing that can get me as excited about life or really get me dancing around the house like Bach and Mozart can, however, things were pretty black and white to me when I was twelve and I was also known as a rock, pop, and country hater.




         Well, I was, until I actually listened to some of it. I hated to admit it, but though most of the rock and pop genre was not to my liking there were a few songs in the mix which I actually enjoyed. I also discovered that there was a whole sub-category in country music which I really liked. For years I refused to admit it. I was this strong uncompromising individual who made a decision and stuck to it. I still remember a long letter I wrote to a friend on the evils of rock and pop music when I was fourteen (My friend and I still laugh and shake our heads over that one). What disgrace would be mine if I deigned to admit that I might have been wrong with regards to the sweeping assertions I had hitherto made regarding these genres.

     Once again, 'Pilate-like' I feared the people. They were my judges.

    My friends, if only we could all begin to grasp how cripplingly short-sighted it is to set the wrong person up as judge over our lives. Throughout the course of these two stories being played out in my life. God came to show me how much freer I could have been, how much happier I would have been had I worn those glasses cheerfully. How less absurd I would have looked as well! I also came to be shown how much good music I missed out on through my teen years because it was in the "wrong" genre. I had elected the wrong judge to to rule over me, that judge had shackled me under a load of chains so heavy that I couldn't help but go nowhere.

     I'm still not free from those judges, sometimes, I catch myself still making decisions based on the laws those judges dictated, whether it's dressing up in a silly costume just because, eating something I've made a rule about not eating normally, but I should because in a certain context it would be impolite not to. Each time I have to fly back to the word, to prayer, to remind myself that God is my judge. Only God's rules can dictate my life now, because I belong to Him. And how freeing it is. I'm  still faced with the vastness of God's world when I make decisions, his lines  aren't in the same places that my judges liked to put them. God's lines are far more subtle and winding, still there, mind you, I don't believe in "gray areas" but God's lines are often in a far different place than we would have put them.

     Isn't it a good thing, though? God is so much greater than we are, and following Him is so liberating because it's only when He is our judge that we reach the full potential of what He created us to be.

Alright, time to cut the talk. I'm sure you're all on the edges of your seats to hear some of those songs I discovered I liked much to my chagrin. Well, Here is one of them. I think my sister Arianne actually introduced this one to me....it's a little mushy, but I think it's very sweet and quite beautiful.  Someday, I hope my husband will sing it to me....here's the kicker though, you'll never guess who is known for singing this song and who made it popular.

    You'll not guess in a million years so I'd better just tell you. The song was first performed and  popularized by Elvis Presley, king of rock 'n roll. Can you believe it readers? I'm admitting to liking a song by Elvis Presley? I just looked out the window to make sure there weren't any pigs winging their way through the clouds....you'd better check, just to make sure, as well. And if you live near a dairy farm, take a stroll out and make sure the bovines haven't taken to wearing suspenders.

      In all seriousness though, what do you all think? Who or what is your judge? Can you relate with what I just spilled out in this post?
  While you're thinking about it. Enjoy the song "I Can't Help Falling in Love With You" sung by Elvis Presley.

What do you think, too mushy for your taste, or is it just your cup of tea?

  Oh, and I have to know....comment if you were genuinely surprised to discover I liked that song, or, if you weren't, I'd love to hear that too! ... Please....I really want to know! ;) 

     Until next time, my forbearing readers, fare thee well. And may God alone be your judge from now on and forever.
   
    ~ Christianna
  

God is My Strength....

          What do you do when you fail yourself? What do you do when the brain that usually solves every problem and cracks every riddle, suddenly comes against an impassable wall?

   Readers, at this point, I am very ready to be done with school. I've got a few more papers to write, which will be relatively simple, but the final big project I have to complete is my capstone, a final large thesis project which is to be the culmination of my two years of study.
    For two weeks or so, I have been thinking, researching, studying, trying to come up with some topic on which I can write a giant thesis paper. Something relevant to my interests and degree. If this were theology, make no mistake, I'd be in fourth heaven, but music, the category in which I have a succinct answer for everything, I've found myself grasping in vain, day after day for some topic which would be suitable which I can complete in twelve weeks with the limited resources, and  people I have at my disposal.

           Today, I found myself getting frustrated to tears over the fact that I couldn't think up a good topic to write on. Usually this is not an issue for me. My brain is teeming with new ideas and concepts which I could research to death, but now, I find myself in a rut that is extremely foreign to me. And it was today I realized that I was trusting in myself and my own limited brain capacity to solve this puzzle. I realized that as a Christian truly walking out my trust in Christ, shouldn't I be relying on Him to provide the answer? Shouldn't I be praying instead of beating myself up because I haven't met my level of perfection?

       Those of you who know me well, know that I'm constantly saying 'sorry' for every little blunder I make. This isn't necessarily to apologize, as many of you have pointed out that it wasn't my fault, but simply as a way to demonstrate how peeved I am over my own mistake. I realize this is just another tentacle of my pride in my own abilities to accomplish.

      It is this that has really hit me recently. I really haven't had to trust God to get me through an intellectual problem so far because I've always felt that my brain has been sufficient to get me through. Of course God grants the thoughts and inspiration every time, but it's easier to credit it to myself when it always comes easily.

        What do I do when I come to the end of myself? There's only one thing I can do. Turn to God.

        How do I do that? I'll confess, I'm not completely certain. What does it mean to rely on God for  our inspiration when we're so used to relying on ourselves or thinking that the ideas God gives us stem from our own cleverness? After years of confusing the two concepts, I guess I'm not sure when I'm trusting myself and when I'm trusting God, but hey, I'm not supposed to have all the answers, right? It's my pride that thinks I need to know it completely before I try which, in itself, rather defeats the purpose, which is to stop focusing on self.

         Even if I don't know it all yet, there is a practical step I shall attempt to implement. I seriously need to stop getting upset over my own inability to find the answers, instead I need to pray. Prayer should be my go to. One of my all time favorite quotes is by Thomas Watson who says, "Prayer is the Christian's gun which he discharges against all his enemies."

       Why is it that we run to google or another person before we run to God? That's something I want to change in my life. If God is my strength, I'll go to Him first. If I really believe that God is the source of all wisdom and knowledge, why not bypass all the ones with limited wisdom and knowledge? God uses people, and ..... google, but He wants our hearts first and foremost and will render google ineffectual if that's what we're trusting in.

       In the end, my friends, I want to do all for the glory of God, and that includes relying on him for everything.


     Alright, lecture concluded. I thought I'd share with you, in light of this resolve of mine, the song I sang to kick off my senior recital. I sang this song at the beginning because I wanted to remind both my listeners, and more importantly myself, that I was singing for God. Let me know what you think. I am so thankful I got introduced to this rather obscure song by Don Hustad.


    So, do any of you all ever struggle with putting way too much trust in your own abilities? What do you do to snap yourself out of it?

        I hope you all had a great celebration of Independence day!

    Until next time.....Oh, by the by, I think God just sent me my thesis topic!

    ~ Christianna

Thus Far...

             When I was younger I had a premonition about caps and gowns. When I put the gown on a few days ago, I understood why. Something about my body type and the way the gown was shaped made me look like a dumpling when I put it on. I'm still not completely past cringing when I see those pictures. However. I'm going to post some anyways, because I know the rest of you don't mind as much as I do. In fact, if you get a laugh out of any of them, let me know. ;)

            Well, it's almost done now. Senior recital is marked off, graduation is over...all I have to do is finish my final requirements for my degree, a couple more months of work due to deadlines, but it's great because I know what I have yet to do, and it's a clear course now until the end.

            Things are going to change around here, I hope. First off, I intend to write more. No more of this "once a month if you're lucky" nonsense, I'm going to see if I can't do at least twice a month. Also, I want to start experimenting more with music and singing, and I'll be posting some of these experiments on this blog, poor thing, I hope it can endure all my musical messing around. In all honesty, however, after having some very insightful conversations with friends, I've realized something about myself, that I've refused to admit for several years. I've always thought I was very good at doing things that were right and showing my true self no matter what other people thought of me, however, I realized last week, that more and more things have been creeping into my life over my teenage years, that were merely a facade, a calculated one, but a facade nonetheless, a well thought out veneer over my personality, displaying only that part of me which I wanted the world to see.

            I want to stop.

           You may see things start to change(I really hope you do, in fact). I'm going to stop trying to make something picture perfect before I post it, as though I am perfect and have a perfect voice, which I definitely do not. I'm going to stop talking like I know it all, because, as a friend of mine wisely pointed out not to long ago, we can probably safely assume going into an argument, that eighty percent of what we believe is false....imagine getting to heaven and discovering that half of what we built our lives on was sand simply because we believed in our own ideas like they were the gospel truth.

           This does not mean that I will be less firm in my convictions, start advocating relativism, or be any less bold in stating the truth. However, it does mean that I will be more careful that when I state opinions, they will be clearly qualified as such, and I will be far more careful when challenging the opinions of others, understanding that not only do they believe theirs as strongly as I believe mine, but that it's a prideful assumption to believe that somehow the opinions I generate are closer to the truth than theirs.



             What brought this on? Well, I met, or rather got to know more thoroughly, a few individuals while on campus for the past two weeks, who not only defied all my preconceived notions of them, but stood up to me and my ideas in a way no one had done with me in a very long time. I'm thinking seven years, at least. Well, not only do I admire people who stand up to me rather than back down, but I also learned a few things from them, such as one of them telling me that I was bad at arguing because I made it sound like  I was always right and anyone who disagreed with me was going to hell. It was hard to hear, but I needed to hear it.

            So, I'm going to try to be a lot more gracious in my opinions, but the other thing that I hope will change, is that I will try to be a little less preoccupied with my appearance in other people's eyes.

             I'm going to post videos of me that sound horrid to me, pictures of myself that might not be flattering by my own standard, but if I'm able to bring others a little joy or blessing through them, then I'm going to post them, and I can jolly well like it or not for all I'm going to do about it.

            
             I'm going to try to be a little more vulnerable, since I've discovered I'm good at it, because, guess what, we all struggle with inadequacy and feelings of falling short, and the last thing I want is to plaster myself up there like some vision of perfection and discourage the loner, the limping and the laboring(among whom I am the most so) into thinking that they're the only ones who struggle with sin and general imperfections.


           So, the first thing I'm going to do to dispel this aura I feel I have created around myself is that I am going to share a video which, technically wise, was pretty bad, and visually isn't the most stunning. However, I'm posting it because I think you all will enjoy it and because I have promised that I would post more of my singing  endeavors.

       The song I'm posting is "The Prayer," a duet which many of you might recognize. I first sang it at my senior recital the weekend before last, and when my friend and I sang it then, it was pretty perfect. The few mistakes we made were nearly unnoticeable. Well, it so happened that we got a full recording of every song in my recital except that one. At first I was pretty upset. It was almost perfect, I wouldn't have been ashamed to post it up all over the internet. What I got instead was a full recording of my friend and me singing it at the senior showcase last Friday, where not only did I not have a chance to warm up properly before hand, but God contrived to get me nice and out of breath right before I started singing! Not only that, but the dress I was wearing was not flattering in the camera. I realize now that I should definitely have worn a solid colored outfit....well, I think you all are going to enjoy it anyway, so, here goes.

             Wasn't my friend great, though? God was good to give me the chance to sing with him....we had a lot of fun doing it!

     Anyhow, I'd love to hear from you all. Am I completely crazy? Can you relate with the thoughts I shared? Did you enjoy the video? Would you enjoy seeing more of my singing and musical experimentation on this blog?

  

Thus far has the Lord brought me, and by His grace alone shall I continue. If any of my classmates are reading this, I want to extend a special thank you to everyone of you, graduated or not, who spoke into my life over the past two weeks and convicted me to this change. God used everyone of you all, and we are the class of 2017!

          Look forward to more unusual updates, dear readers. May God be with you until I write again.


  

         All my love.

           ~ Christianna