Reading Between the Lines

Before the world got too fast, I used to read. A lot. Boy, I loved to read. My best reading memories conjure up titles such as Hank the Cowdog, Stellaluna, The Box-car Children, The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe. Later years included The Grapes of Wrath, The Poisonwood Bible and The Scarlet Letter. Lately I've been reading a lot of Christian books about theology, faith and life-applications.

A few days ago, I picked up a book I had heard a lot about. I just finished it. It was a novel. A pretty good one, too, save a few world-views I don't agree with (ha, of course).

I hate finishing books. When I begin a story, I feel excited and anxious, my mind running a thousand miles per minute, wondering what the future holds. As I near the end, my left hand holding the majority of the pages, it's like sand running through my hands. I try to hold on, but inevitably it all disappears between my fingers.

Sometimes, I get so deep into a book that I expect to run into the characters in real life. I'll turn a corner and wonder if I'll see Aslan sauntering down an alleyway, or Hester Prynne clutching Pearl to her bosom. It's a bit disappointing to pull myself back into this reality, when it's so much easier to lose myself in someone else's.

I feel a bit like a god when reading a book. I hold a character's life in the palms of my hands. I can stop, rewind, or skip their existence as I wish. The only problem is that I can't intervene. I can't talk to the characters and influence their decisions. I may be able to see what's going to happen if they choose one path, but my words cannot change the outcome of their lives, already written in deep black. But what if I could?

What if I could, with my words, create an existence? Fashion the very world of a living, breathing character--form her from my image? And what if I gave her a will of her own, so that she had a choice of what the next chapter would hold, rather than live in a dead-end of forced existence? And what if she made the wrong choices? What would I do? I once wrote a poem as I pondered the very thing...

The Blue Pearl, by Josmery Ramirez

If I could hold the world and see it shining blue,

Would I not then create mankind to see it with me too?

If man could only know me as but a mystery,

Would I not then give up my crown to die in misery?

What wisdom can account for the blooming of a flow'r

Poisoned with the darkness of unseen evil's pow'r?

Only one man's existence epitomized such gift,

Yet blood-stained cloths wrapped 'round His cheek, betrayed by bitter kiss.

No image can be conjured to do justice to that day

When Jesus hung on splintered wood..

All but His sins to pay.

Oh, Lord, what price to pay!

Now I am giv'n the honor to know Him as my own.

Will I not then share His red blood with all of those I know?

If I should have such privilage, yet speak nor live in Light,

Could I then dare to hope to see the King in all His might?

What wisdom can account for the wilting of a flow'r

But man's denial of Him who sends grace down like healing show'rs?

His mercy falls as raindrops, cov'ring all flow'rs with dew.

Praise evermore the God of Love holding this pearl of blue!

You know, the only book that doesn't slip between my fingertips is the very same book that holds the entire world's existence between its pages. The cool thing is...the story never ends.

The Day the Earth Stood Still

There's a 50's movie titled The Day the Earth Stood Still, directed by Robert Wise. It's about an alien that comes to Earth to tell them humans will be destroyed. How did I come about this old film, you ask? Well, I saw it mentioned in another movie I was watching from the comfort of the D'Alessandri couch. It caught my attention because of the title. It reminded me that today, in America, just eight years ago, the Earth stood still.

I woke up today with plans to go to Bondi beach. I had spent the night at a friend's apartment (You-Me, a classmate from Korea) and awoke to warm banana bread, sleepy giggles and soothing tea. Shortly after, I climbed into the car of another new friend, Anna, to drive to one of Sydney's most touristy beaches. I did all of this with the knowledge that thousands of miles away, in the country I call "home", there were families gathered together, all mourning the loss of loved ones.

I don't pretend to have more understanding of the pain of these people than I actually do. No one I know personally died on 9/11. Actually, I recall my wonderment at my own inability to relate to what so many were feeling at that moment: This doesn't even affect me the way I would think it should. It looks like another dramatic movie playing on the television.

And yet, eight years later, the world continues to turn, ever so slowly. Makes you think, doesn't it?

See, for me, I can't help but notice that after 9/11, violence just seemed a little more... numbed. Goodness, do not take this to mean that when I hear about the atrocities happening all over the globe I brush them off as I would a fly buzzing about my dinner plate. It's just that... well...

Darfur. India. China. North Korea. Bombings. Hoaxes. Murders. Kidnappings. Adultries. Pornography. Lies. Births. Deaths. Every day. Every second. Another article, another notice, another life. Why doesn't the Earth stand still for all these, too?

If God were so good, wouldn't He stop all the bad stuff from happening?

Perhaps the single most-asked question by mankind. Also perhaps the single most-used question for denying the existence of God. (If a father let's his kid fall off his bike, and the kid says, "You could have stopped this from happening!", does the father not exist?) I'm not a believer who says that God causes bad things to happen only to those who make Him angry. See, that's not the God in the Bible. Not completely. We are creatures of the here and now, and no, we cannot see the expanse of time in one frame, as God can. But we do have the ability to look at the whole picture, or, namely, the whole Book. So before any presumptions are made, I ask that you would try to do just that--read!

The Old Testament is full of wrath. Full of wars, full of blood. People don't like it. Who would? But then comes the hope. And hope's been there all along, if you take the time to see it. God gave it to us at the same time He cursed us. (Read Genesis) Then there's prophets speaking of a time when blood will not be required any more. Where a light will shine through darkness. And He came just as they prophesied. And He was hung on a cross, for you. And when He sighed, "It is finished", the Earth stood still. And through this final, bloody, costly sacrifice came a word that has turned the world upside-down--grace.

Now, what a lot of people don't understand is that God's grace is not a ticket out of pain. It is the remedy through it.

I recently listened to one of the most riveting talks about September 11, 2001. I have the link here, if you wish to listen. It contains the message from the wife of one of the men that crashed that day, Lisa Beamer.

Acknowledging pain is frighteningly easy, most of the time. Yet, it seems that acknowledging hope and renewal can be quite difficult. I pray that anyone in pain will open their hearts to the latter, for they heal like nothing else.

I've heard many people say that certain things help them remember that the world doesn't revolve around them. This makes my spirit sigh... The view from an ocean shore. The stars. A baby. Death.

I finish with a picture of a day I look forward to with all my heart. A day when the entire world will literally stand still. A day that the Earth has been and continues to groan for with earnest. The day we all realize, "No, it isn't about us, it's about Him."

Behold, He is coming with the clouds, and every eye will see Him, even those who pierced Him, and all tribes of the earth will wail on account of Him. Even so. Amen. - Rev. 1:7

Then I turned to see the voice that was speaking to me, and on turning I saw seven golden lampstands, and in the midst of the lampstands one like a son of man, clothed with a long robe and with a golden sash around His chest. The hairs of His head were white, like white wool, like snow. His eyes were like a flame of fire, His feet were like burnished bronze, refined in a furnace, and His voice was like the roar of many waters. In His right hand He held seven stars, from His mouth came a sharp two-edged sword, and His face was like the sun shining in full strength. - Rev. 1:12-16

Then I saw heaven opened, and behold, a white horse! The one sitting on it is called Faithful and True, and in righteousness He judges and makes war. His eyes are like a flame of fire, and on His head are many diadems, and He has a name written that no one knows but Himself. He is clothed in a robe dipped in blood, and the name by which He is called is The Word of God. And the armies of heaven, arrayed in fine linen, white and pure, were following Him on white horses. From His mouth comes a sharp sword with which to strike down the nations, and he will rule them with a rod of iron. He will tread the winepress of the fury of the wrath of God the Almighty. On His robe and on His thigh He has a name written, King of kings and Lord of Lords. - Rev. 19:11

Then I saw a new heaven and a new earth, for the first heaven and the first earth had passed away, and the sea was no more. And I saw the holy city, new Jerusalem, coming down out of heaven from God, prepared as a bride adorned for her husband. And I heard a loud voice from the throne saying, "Behold, the dwelling place of God is with man. He will dwell with them, and they will be His people, and God Himself will be with them as their God. He will wipe away every tear from their eyes, and death shall be no more, neither shall there be mourning, nor crying, nor pain anymore, for the former things have passed away." And He who was seated on the throne said, "Behold, I am making all things new." Also He said, "Write this down, for these words are trustworthy and true." - Rev. 21:1-5

Aida and More

On Monday night I was privileged enough to see Aida at the Sydney Opera House. This is the second opera I have seen in the House. Verdict? Bravissimo!

For one, the experience was greatly improved by the fact I had THE perfect seat. No, really. I was smack-dab in the middle of the hall, first level. Best seats in the house! How did I get such a treat? Well, for one, God loves me :D For another, Barry Ryan, my teacher, got me a "VIP" ticket. He was playing Amonasro, Aida's father and king of the Ethiopians. When he came out in costume, I didn't even recognize him! It was great! I got to sit next to the publicity agent for Opera Australia, too! Kind lady.

So, not only do I get this very special treat, but I also got to go through the stage door of the theatre! The very same door all the orchestral players walk through, the very same door that so many a famous artist has walked! I got to meet Rosario, a famous tenor, who played Radames, one of the main characters. His voice is fantastic! When I spoke to him and he found out I was Barry's student, he said, "Make sure to call him so-and-so, it's our little joke here at the House". I got in on a joke at the Opera House! Ha ha!

The soprano, Claire Rutter, was fantastic. Absolutely beautiful. Stunning!

The stage was set up so wonderfully! They had this projection thing that would change with every scene, displaying trees or Egyptian hieroglyphs or what have you. And then there was this section of water in the front, about an inch on glass. It made it look like a river. It was so great.

There was, however, one down side. In the beginning of Act III, there was a dance scene which involved a female dancer "swimming" in the water on stage. It was really lovely how they did that part. Then, a male dancer comes leaping in and they do this beautiful duet. Well, it was beautiful until I realized the girl was topless. Yes, topless! Not just a top that looked like bare skin, but no top at all. On a live stage! Ack! As soon as I realized she was naked, I hid my eyes and felt my face go red.

Some may say, "it's art. Her topless body evoked a sensuality to the dance."

Well, that's someone baby girl, folks. That is someone's wife. That is someone's sister. Most importantly, that is a unique creature of God, who's body was meant to be sacred and for the pleasure of the husband alone. The dance would have been just as good, if not better, had she been fully dressed. Period! It's so sad to me that the human body has become just another instrument of expression. It is the cocoon of your soul! Treat it with some dignity, I say!

On to other things: I'm performing this Friday for my Concert Practice class. I'm a little nervous, but anxious to see how my new techniques are aiding my singing. It's funny...just the other day I was telling Brian I couldn't see myself as an opera singer, and yet, after recalling Aida, I want to try it! Thing is, I want to bring something different to the stage. I'm not quite sure what, yet. The Lord is brewing some ideas in my head.... :) I like it!

Oh, one more thing. Today, my friend Lorenzo ordered a capuccino and it was decorated like a treble clef! I took a picture of it and did some tweaking to the photo. I call it, "Musical Break".