The Lord is My Light

On top of St. Michael's tower

     
            My dear most long suffering of readers,

                       How good it is to finally place my fingers upon the keys and type into this blogger post template once more. (Just doesn't have the same ring as putting pen to paper...what is this world coming to?)
        I'll start by apologizing for leaving you all hanging for so long(do accept my profoundest regrets). I'll continue by explaining all of my very good reasons for not posting in a very lengthy, verbose set of paragraphs(but there will be pictures), and finish with a hymn, as always.
     
         I begin my tale during a cloudy afternoon in early September last year when I determined to apply to Cambridge University. You know the rest. I posted all about how I'd come to the conclusion, that I should do this, I poured out my dreams and aspirations, I pondered the possibility of studying in England, and I submitted my application.

          You know what happened, don't you? At least you can deduce it from my silence. It's a grievous falsehood  that no news is good news(or, at least, pleasant news). I received a four sentence email shortly before Christmas, informing me that I hadn't been accepted, that this didn't necessarily mean that I wasn't qualified, only that I didn't stand out, and would be welcome to apply again.

          Well, what to do. I didn't think(still don't) that God said no to a master's degree, or, necessarily to Cambridge, only that he said, "wait."
      I wasn't happy. Not in the least. I wanted things when I wanted them, and at that stage I felt like I had to get out of teaching as quickly as possible. This wasn't because I hated teaching, but only because I feared my musical education had plateaued and so had my teaching method. I was terrified of a student getting so good that I wouldn't be able to teach him, that if I didn't keep learning my students would catch up, or, worse, plateau along with me.
       Plus, I felt burned out. I've been teaching practically full time since I was eighteen. It paid my way through college, and in the two years following I've kept right on with nary a break. Coming up on four years, I realized that I didn't want to spend the rest of my life teaching. Fear loomed over head. What if I never got married and had to fully support myself the rest of my born days? What if I couldn't ever do anything but teach? What if my dreams of becoming an author and composer were clouds without water? I thought for certain, higher education was the answer, the solution to all my problems. If I could just go to school for ten months, everything would fall into place.

      And then, I didn't get accepted. All my hopes tumbled off the mantle and lay in shards on the marble slab at my feet. I was facing at least two more solid years of teaching. It might not be my life's goal, but there's nothing else I'd rather do to make money, that I can do, at this point in time.
   
       "Nope," God told me, "you can't fix your issues by dropping responsibilities and running away to school. You have to push through them."

        I understood, and agreed, but I wasn't happy.
        I sulked all through Christmas.
        January came, and with it a gust of eastern winds. Not to go into details, events transpired to throw an opportunity in my path. Early February, it came to fruition. I was going to England, but not at all in the way I had planned. Not as a musician going to study voice and composition at one of the finest Universities in the world. But as a tourist, pah!
Okay, there were benefits, I was going with a group, and we weren't just going to see old buildings and buy souvenirs. It was a Creative Writing Master Class, and we were going to learn from the great men of old who had walked those same streets and written great things.
       The leader would be an author I'd read from my earliest years. Of course, I was agreeable excited. Still, I worried that going there and seeing where I wanted to study, and wasn't good enough, would mess with my head. Maybe make me bitter, maybe make me depressed when I got home, maybe make me even more cynical than I already am.

       My dear friends. If there's anything I've learned about myself and God over the past several years, it's that God is a being who delights in paradoxes, in turning things on their heads. Perhaps, I should rephrase that. Sin has set things on their heads, and God is in the business of righting them. What I feared would only make me resentful and discontent turned out to be one of the best things I could have spent my savings on. In fact, it turned out to be the best vacation I believe I've ever taken.

Christ Church College

With Author Julia Cameron in front of the Eagle and Child

         We were a nicely sized group, six in number(the above is with English author Julia Cameron, whom we got to spend time with on our second day; middle left). I worried that a class consisting of four ladies and one man, minus our instructor, might be rather prickly, but we were all adults and things worked out quite nicely.

From the Tower of the University Church of St. Mary the Virgin

       I discovered something while I was in Oxford, the main place the group went. I learned that it is possible to fully enjoy oneself in the place where one is, fall in love with the buildings, the countryside, the accents, and yet still be capable of thoroughly enjoying things somewhere else. I know it sounds pedantic, bear with me, while I endeavor to explain.

Same as above...a magnificent view.

         You see, I think, sin, flesh and devil all conspire to give us a very narrow perspective of reality. Don't worry, I'm not saying that there's no such thing as 'either or's" or no such thing as an absolute...you know I'd be the last person to say such  a thing. What I am saying is that where God sets boundaries, sin wants to break them, and where God opens up the field, sin wants to set limits. It's all about distorting what God has created.
       In my case, I've often made the mistake of holding so tightly to a particular place, memory, or season in life, that I've missed out on the beauties and wonders of where I was right then. Well, I got to Oxford and discovered a curious occurrence unfold within me.

Stratford Cathedral where Shakespeare is buried.

       I loved Oxford, and Stratford, and Olney, and all the places we visited. I couldn't get enough of the narrow winding roads and beautiful hedgerows of the countryside, and yet, I still loved my home back here, the little park behind my home, the water fall in the woods, the coffee shops in Wake Forest which I frequent, the people at my church, my students, and my family. And, wonder of wonders, even while thoroughly enjoying Oxford, I missed them....and those two emotions didn't conflict.

In front of Shakespeare's home in Stratford

         Now that I'm home, I think I understand how that happened. While at Oxford I wasn't just a tourist, seeing grand buildings, or learning about writing, I was spending a great deal of time with other very vibrant, serious Christians.
       Ha! I know what you're thinking, but no. It wasn't peer pressure. Not only do I tend to push back against that sort of thing, but those of you who know me, will recollect that I tend to become more set in my ways when faced with ideas that dis-align with mine. Unless, of course, my head already agrees, only my heart is still not in sync.
         You see, everything I just talked about, I've known to be true for years. Of course you should live in the present, of course you can love two different places, of course loving where one's at and missing where one came from don't have to conflict. My head knew that, but my feelings still opposed the notion until this past week.

Merton College Library

         So, how did a week with other strong Christians bring this about? Well, they made me become more serious about my own walk with God. Certain things had been derailing in my life over the past two months which really bothered me. The problem? Well, once again, even after repeated admonitions to the contrary, I was trying to run my life on my own again. Somehow, it seems I can never quite shake the notion that I have to work my way to God, that Christ isn't sufficient for sanctification.

Above library had books on all sorts of topics. ;)

      If there's anything my own actions have taught me, it's that I am incapable of doing anything on my own without messing up my life. Time and time again, I have attempted to clean up my act and found the attempt impossible. Furthermore, I generally only do more damage and devolve into depression and discouragement. I know that the moment I start trusting God and doing the next thing He sets before me, laying my striving aside, then, not only do I begin to flourish, but so do the people whom I influence.
Funny how that works.

At Churchill's grave at St. Martin's church, Blenham Parish, with Children's book author Catie Hedgecock

         Well, the thing about being around other believers, is that they not only remind you of the truths you already know, but they also have a re-girding, reassuring effect. I was encouraged to read the Scriptures more, to pray more, to dredge up the things I'd been believing recently(I mean belief in the "what you act on" sense) and hold them up to the light of God's word. It was a sharpening time for me, in every facet of the word.

Hilarious Gargoyle on the steeple of the University Church.(someone was afraid of heights)

           Yes, in case you're curious, I did have a lot of fun.  There were many laughs, several of them, incidentally, caused by yours truly. However, the true joy of the moment was growing closer to God, and understanding more of who He is. It came in fellowship with other Christians and speaking of heavenly things. It visited through the beautiful hymns we sang, and some of the magnificent music we had the privilege of hearing.

This one's just being rude.

       Yes, I do miss England, but I don't wish myself back. It was a beautiful moment, and a week I shall treasure all my life, but now I'm here, home, where I have plenty of tasks to complete, multiple people to influence for good, and lots of stories to write.

In front of the bridge of sighs(ask me later if you want to know why that's its name).

      Oxford's motto was from Psalm 27:1,
"The Lord is my light and my salvation. Whom shall I fear?"

     That is indeed a good summary of what I learned during the Oxford Creative Writing Master Class. God is my light and salvation. There is nothing else that can either save me or illuminate my path. If I am walking in His light, and trusting in His salvation, there is nobody I need fear.

      I'm going to share with you a beautiful hymn I was reminded of, during the past week. We visited Olney on Sunday and got to see John Newton's grave. We all know him for penning the beautiful, over sung hymn, "Amazing Grace," but he wrote several others, not least of which is one of my personal favorites, "Let us Love and Sing and Wonder."

        I hope you enjoy this magnificent hymn. I just discovered an abominable tune for this song by Indelible Grace, I can't stand it...it fails to capture the magnificence of this beautiful hymn. Let me know if you agree or disagree, but only after listening to both that tune and the tune I'm sharing below. :)

    Regardless of debate over tune, this hymn is a triumphant testimony of God's love towards mankind. This is what a song of worship ought to be about.

      

    
       I also hope you enjoyed the pictures taken by people who actually had cameras with them. I shamelessly stole them off facebook. If anybody protests...I'll apologize, but not 'till then. ;)

       Anyhow, I'd love to hear from any of you regarding unexpected things you've learned in unexpected places. Also, let me know if you actually read all of this. I applaud you for sticking with my ramblings.

       Until my next adventure,
 
           I remain yours in utmost sincerity.

     ~ Christianna