Who is beyond your imagination.

"Bodily calm is part of our presence to people, and also to God. You may be on your knees, standing, sitting or prostrate. You try to stop the body moving. You focus on something physical: the breath flowing into you, or the sounds that invade your stillness, or the awareness of your enveloping skin. Then you give space to the Lord who created you, who is more central to your being than your own mind is, yet who is beyond your imagination.
I pause for a moment and think of the love and the grace that God showers on me: I am created in the image and likeness of God; I am God's dwelling-place.

I exist in a web of relationships - links to nature, people, God. I trace out these links, giving thanks for the life that flows through them.
Some links are twisted or broken: I may feel regret, anger, disappointment. I pray for the gift of acceptance and forgiveness."

~from Sacred Space this morning.

i haven't given up....

...but this blog is struggling these days, huh?

I keep checking back here to see if the author has posted anything new.

Nope.

************************

I haven't posted anything this month, but March has been fun.

Here are some un-edited, randomly blurted, tired ramblings about my life lately:

• I've been cold, hopeful, and exhausted, and overwhelmed. And sometimes I've been surprisingly warm in the sun, refreshed, and content.
• Went to Ohio. It was crazy fun. Maybe I'll post pictures someday.
• I started running again. (well, I've gone twice now.)
  
• I've been practicing...but not quite as much as I should be...(my teacher is in China for a few weeks).
• Sophie is almost ONE!
• My house seems to stay messy more often than I'd like. It's making me a little crazy.
• But....the basement is organized. That was a miracle performed by my sister Katie...a surprise birthday gift for my sweet husband and me. Maybe I'll post a story about that sometime too.
• Sophia puts everything in her mouth. Another post maybe.
• I've turned into a bit of a 'NO' person. I LOVE to please people. To say 'YES'. It's an addiction for me. But my current state of crazy overcommitment has forced me into a new phase of my life, where I just say 'no'...to all kinds of great, fun, worthy, tempting activities. If I've coldly said 'no' to you recently....I'm sorry. Know that I hated saying the word. But trust me, if I hadn't been forthright and honest with you.....I would eventually disappoint you with my unavailability and lack of energy or enthusiasm.
  
• I'm feeling tired just thinking about summer....longing for the warmth, the break from work, but dreading the 10 credits spent away from my home. The next restful (or even manageable) time of my life just seems to be too far away to even see in the distance.
• So I'm trying to be here. Now. Not longing for the unattainable future that seems easier and more fun. Right now is fun. Right now is good. Right now is full of incredible joy (that I will soon look back on with longing). I know this is true....and most of the time this way of being fully present comes naturally. But often (more often in the last few weeks)...I have to keep reminding myself of the gift of 'now.'
  
• Sophie is just too precious and affectionate to describe. She is silly and smart. She loves playing with her bouncy ball, bobbing her head up and down as she watches it bounce, squealing and laughing trying to catch it, chasing it all over her room as it rolls in front of her.
• Tonight Maya and Sophie were resting their heads on each others' shoulders....putting their noses together, smiling and laughing...holding hands while riding in their new side-by-side double stroller/ bike trailer.
  
• That's all I've got. I'm cold (the thermostat is set to drop when I should be in bed), and I'm tired.

I've retreated...

...somewhat from blogging my innermost feelings, thoughts, worries. It hasn't been on purpose.

It's just easier....and satisfying and fun to simply post warm, happy pictures and recollections from my best moments. To 'carefully construct' my reality into a nostalgic and beautiful scene to portray 'my world' to you....and maybe my children who may look back on these posts one day. Of course, I do want to remember those exquisite moments in all their vivid, euphoric, 'perfection'.

But Ryan sometimes teases me that he'll post about the messy kitchen, the laundry piles, the loud, chaotic evenings that seem to race towards BEDTIME in a frantic, exhausting blur....
I suppose I do need a frequent dose of reality in my blogging/archiving. :)

So tonight, I'm not just posting pictures or cute stories. I'm writing again, and attempting for the moment, to be more transparent. (If you know me, you might laugh at that aim..."to be MORE transparent"...as if I should really aspire to that end.)

Within my real world, I'm feeling worried, conflicted, frustrated. Small circumstances, relatively insignificant things said, or not said, can take so much of my joy. Even as I sit and count all the new (and old) life-giving friendships I've been given, the family that I adore, the obscenely rich lifestyle I have been allowed to lead, my fulfilling work that I enjoy, the people all over the world that I love...I can become completely overwhelmed by, immersed in such trivial worries.

But instead of just 'journaling' or venting.....or even silently worrying, I'll try to rediscover Peace.

My 'conversation' would be better directed in prayer.

O God, by whom the meek are guided in judgment, and light rises up in darkness for the godly: Grant us, in all our doubts and uncertainties, the grace to ask what you would have us to do, that the Spirit of wisdom may save us from all false choices, and that in your light we may see light, and in your straight path may not stumble; through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.

Today felt good.

It was one of those days that was filled with moments of certainty... that what I'm doing is right. That I will survive, even grow, accomplish something...amidst the blurr and chaos that I sometimes feel exhausted by.

Today, all the daily things...the mundane tasks (dressing girls, changing diapers, washing dishes, making coffee, packing lunches, pushing my teaching cart, tuning violins, taking attendance, focusing students, starting dinner, cleaning dinner, washing dishes, changing diapers, clearing clutter), ...didn't feel quite as futile as they sometimes can.

Despite finding out 1 minute before my first class started that because of a funeral, I wouldn't have a classroom or a piano for my choir and despite having a second grader leave music class with a slightly bloody, fat lip...as a result of a new 'circle game' we tried (something like duck-duck-goose), my students seemed brilliant, charming, surprising, attentive (mostly) and sweet.

Most days, at least once, I find myself grumbling inwardly (or outwardly) about the piles of laundry that get cleared...for about an hour before piling up again; about the dishes that seem so sparkling clean and neatly stacked until the next meal time; or the crumb covered, yogurt smeared floor that sometimes gets swept 3 times a day or more and still looks messy.

Sometimes the joy, the gratitude that I have for my rich life gets clouded so easily, so quickly.
But today it was inexplicably easy to just enjoy the smiles, the silly laughter, the squeals to be chased, the focused and earnest but (honestly quite awful sounding) ensemble playing in strings today, the middle schoolers who 'wrote' and performed a five part improvisational round-song, the husband who entertained us all with "YOU MUST PAY THE RENT...." over our chile dinner, and who swept the corn bread crumbs and vacuumed the living room and the steps.

No particularly obvious reason for this day of clarity, contentment, and balance. But I'll take it.

And I'll try to remember it, because...

...tomorrow will probably be different. Things do fall apart.

A fragmented post

One of the happiest moments of my day...



Watch more of Maya's violin lesson here.

Some other happy moments...

Arriving to work early after an eerily calm morning... without rushing. Early enough even for a rare visit to the Starbucks drive-through.

A couple of my little violinist girls were patient enough (and happened to have good enough timing) to feel some surprisingly powerful Sophia/Ian kicks while I tuned their violins.

Hearing my beginner strings class celebrate so enthusiastically as we attempted each new song in their books today.... "Pepperoni Pizza," "Hot Cross Buns," and "Au Claire de la lune."

Dinner at 6:00 with Ryan and Maya...and the sun was STILL shining. hope. spring.

Cookie dough ice cream.




For me today, life and beautiful things kept happening...but part of me felt like everything should stop. Mostly, it was a very heavy day. And I haven't really allowed myself to feel the full weight of it. It just isn't something my mind can process, but I'm aching still.

My school day ended in a circle on the floor with my fourth graders, listening to another teacher carefully explain to the class why a Grandma had come to get one of their friends earlier in the day. She came to bring her home and to tell her that her father (who had just celebrated his 41st birthday with her yesterday) suddenly, without any explanation (so far) or any warning had died this morning at work.

As Ryan and I sang and tucked our Maya into her bed tonight, I couldn't stop thinking of my little red-headed girl who won't have her daddy tuck her in tonight or ever. And who never imagined that this could be what today would bring.

I love this little girl so much. Maya adores her too. She plays with her while she waits for her violin lesson to start each week. I will miss hearing her play Boccherini's famous Minuet tomorrow. I hope she is sleeping now.

Let There be Peace on Earth...

The months of November and December bring so much anticipation and happiness. I love singing Christmas songs with my students; decorating my house with warm lights, gold ribbon, and deep red cranberries. This time of year also gives me an excuse to spend extra time (and money--which is also fun) thinking about the people I love and trying to find thoughtful gifts to show them how much they are known and loved. I'm feeling childishly silly anticipating my brother's family coming to stay in our new house with us, my parents' house filled with many of the people I love most, all of the Corbins sitting around the Christmas tree in our red flannel pajamas...awaiting our presents and our Christmas morning feast, Bing Crosby singing 'White Christmas', burning candles, Lynn's cookies, Marianne's Finnish Coffee bread, wrapping paper and ribbon....

And this year, Christmas has also brought new joys...telling Maya the story of baby Jesus over and over again as we open the doors of our 'house' (Advent Calendar) each day, hearing her walk around the house talking about the 'babies'(always plural) the 'sheep' and the 'shep-sheps' the 'WISE' and 'Mare-mare' and 'Jose.' She particularly loves the Angel that is known as 'Do-Do' (also the name of her beloved Grandma Go-Go). I think the angel in our nativity set got her name for the song she
is always singing...."Glo----------ria, in excelsis deo...' Maya has also picked up on the Santa/ St. Nicholas Christmas themes....marching around yelling 'HO, HO, HO, Merr--.' She loves filling in the blanks as we read...
"Twas the night before __________,
and all through the ________,
not a creature was stirring,
not even a _______!
The _______ were hung
by the ______ (she thinks it's 'chin' and she points to own) with care..."

But November and December also bring a lot of chaos, stress, and extra work. I'm right in the middle of the long string of Christmas performances (and this year, I also added an overnight Choir trip last week).
This week will bring the last of the performances... Thursday night, my Elementary choir will sing, the strings will play prelude in the hall, and my High School and Middle School Choirs will perform. Saturday, the West Shore Symphony's Home for the Holidays matinee concert at the Frauenthal will end the chaos for me.

And then, peace?

There's other chaos too. Deeper, darker worries. People. I guess relationships and communities hold far greater destructive and wounding potential than responsibilities and full calendars could ever hold. Those work 'stresses' seem light and silly this year... in the shadow of so much loss and pain and disappointment around me.

But I do have hope. I think that's the point of Advent. Waiting, feeling the depth of our need. Recognizing the hopelessness... and still hoping because of Jesus.

Sometimes...

...looking around, it seems like an inordinate number of things are out of place in life. That brokenness and disappointment are everywhere. That the glimmers of hope for which I desperately grasp are being relentlessly
torn apart,
clouded,
and revealed to be less than I imagined.

But sometimes,
hope
is impossible to miss. It is overwhelming and delightful. One piece of the shadow can disappear and the light pouring in is suddenly and blissfully blinding.


One of the more persistent shadows just disappeared.
It's not my news to share yet.
(If you checked all my friend links, you might find it)

But I'm jittery and silly with happiness.

I wish my abilty to feel things for other people held some
practical purpose.

It seems so meaningless to ache with hurt when it can't fix anything.

I wish my ability to carefully construct the world around me into a sepia toned, nostalgic, warm and fuzzy dream world could actually mend the brokenness that seems to lurking in too many corners right now.

This selfish craving of my own personal warmth and security in knowing the people I love are fulfilled, happy, loved...
...doesn't mean that they are fulfilled, happy, loved.

And all of my imaginative, artistic, naive wishing doesn't really hold any power to alter reality or hide the truth that life is not...sepia toned.

If it could somehow, magically (miraculously?) restore some of the hope, truth, depth into some of the broken things around me...would I be willing to give up the comfort (and appearance) of my own 'fairytale-ish' life?

my swirling thoughts turned to prayer

In God's loving presence I unwind the past day,

starting from now and looking back, moment by moment.
I gather in all the goodness and light, in gratitude.
I attend to the shadows and what they say to me, seeking healing, courage, forgiveness.

Lord, grant me the grace to be free from the excesses of this life.
Let me not get caught up with the desire for wealth.
Keep my heart and mind free to love and serve you.

(words from Sacred Space.)

Sometimes...

...there seems to be far more chaos than even I can feel. So much confusion and brokenness that I can't seem to focus enough to even feel anything.

And most of the time, I can feel everything...for everyone.

But tonight the heavy chaos around me and my own (mostly happy) chaos have left me with a kind of false tranquility, even ambivalence...

...a way of distancing and preserving myself from all the hurt of others that I usually immerse myself in?

Maybe I'm just tired.

But the cloudiness seems thicker than fatigue.

a perfect Christmas concert for children...

Horse drawn sleigh rides through the downtown,
Christmas ornament decorating,
the West Shore Symphony Orchestra,
orchestra conducting lessons from a real conductor,
a chance to try all the musical instruments of the symphony...an "Instrument Petting Zoo!"



The West Shore Symphony Orchestra's "Family Traditions" pre-concert event
1:00-2:45pm, before the 3:00pm Matinee on Dec. 16th
Specially priced main floor reserved seating and holiday activities for the whole family!




Special Matinee Offer...
BUY ONE TICKET,
GET ONE FREE!
ALL REMAINING
REGULAR PRICED SEATS,
MATINEE ONLY!

For more information call 231-726-3231 or visit www.wsso.org.
Tickets are available at the Frauenthal Box Office, or at Star Tickets Plus Outlets, online at www.starticketsplus.com, or by calling 800-585-3737. Ticket prices are $14-$41 with discounts for students, seniors, and groups.

Snow Day

My school is closed.

We were planning to stay home anyways. Maya and I were, that is. We both wish 'Daddy' could be home too.

We're feeling very tucked-in and sheltered from the blustery scene outside our window. Days at home without a mile long to-do list are always refreshing. But the icy wonderland outside and the mountain of snow in our driveway make our quiet warm house seem even more serene.

Tomorrow will be filled with activity...accompanying a viola student at Solo & Ensemble, conducting my string ensembles in their Christmas Concert at the Art Museum, visiting Barnes & Noble to hear a student String Quartet, and dinner with friends.

But today, ethereal Christmas music sung by choirs in far away cathedrals has been floating through our house all day (compliments of our beloved Pandora Radio).

And we're basking in the pleasure of... a new story book from Great Grandma Corbin (with Maya's own hand-crocheted mitten), hazelnut coffee, warm baths (one for each of us), restful reading, the scent of clean laundry,...







...and Maya's first Christmas tree.

'Tis the Season

A month of performances...

...tomorrow I'm taking my High School String Quintet to the Art Museum to play Christmas music for the "Festival of Trees"

...Thursday, I'm being observed by our Assistant Superintendent

...Saturday, all of my String Ensembles are giving a 12:00 Christmas Concert at the Muskegon Museum of Art..after I accompany one of my viola students at Solo & Ensemble in the morning

...next Tuesday, I'm taking my Middle and High School Choirs to sing Christmas Carols at the Hume Home

...Tuesday, Dec. 12th, my HS Choir is singing at a dinner for brain injury victims downtown Muskegon.

...and Thursday, Dec. 14th, all of my musical groups (K-4th music classes, Strings students, Middle & High School Choirs) have the Calvary Christian School Christmas Concert...

..and Saturday, Dec. 16th, Ryan and I are volunteering at the West Shore Symphony's "Home for the Holidays" Christmas Event

Somewhere in the next few weeks....I'll finish Christmas shopping, enjoy every day with Maya, focus my heart on the hope of Advent, prepare my mind and spirit for Christmas...and the peace that it brings.

...and I'll be dreaming of Christmas break, of hot baths & hot chocolate, finishing a book or two, sleeping by the Christmas tree, evening conversations with family, and days with Maya.

It's time....right?

Maybe this weekend....

Oswald Chambers had harsh words for me tonight...

"Why shouldn’t we experience heartbreak? Through those doorways God is opening up ways of fellowship with His Son. Most of us collapse at the first grip of pain. We sit down at the door of God’s purpose and enter a slow death through self-pity. And all the so-called Christian sympathy of others helps us to our deathbed. But God will not. He comes with the grip of the pierced hand of His Son, as if to say, "Enter into fellowship with Me; arise and shine." If God can accomplish His purposes in this world through a broken heart, then why not thank Him for breaking yours?"

Empty

That seems to be the state of my intellect lately.

Though becoming a mother has overwhelmed me with unimaginable love, the purest happiness, new depth...

...the practicality and repetition of daily life seem to be shutting down my ability to think or care about much else.

Do you ever just have really dry spells?
Creatively, spiritually, mentally...

It's almost as if the euphoria of my time spent with Maya and my immeasurable joy in being her Mother has drained me of all other ability to care.

Or maybe I care too much...about all the real and imagined problems of the people around me that I love. Either way, the weight of my emptiness is tangible.

I'm so disappointed with myself. I have everything. Most of the time, I feel intoxicated with gratitude and happiness. My heart has never been so full of love as it is now for Maya and Ryan. Still, sometimes I feel like I'm disconnected somehow...from my former self...from God.
Until a few days ago, I haven't even been honest enough with myself to notice this.

It's quite self-absorbed, I know. It's whining, self-pity, ingratitude, prayerlessness....

Still.

Does everyone experience moments of sheer disappointment? With no apparent cause?



*******************************************************************************

Now there's a really enticing "welcome back to my blog!' first post in a month."

Probably far too personal. I do apologize....but you must consider:
1) my level of exhaustion at 11:30 PM,
2) the intense ability/habitual tendency that I have to *feel* everything, and
3) my inability to filter my expression of my feelings.

I am completely transparent (and hopelessly dramatic)...definite flaws. I'll certainly live to regret them.


I promise, when my inspiration returns, I'll think of something really great to make up for such a depressing post.

For now, here's the best way I know how to make it up to you...

I'm done!

Last night was my students' final performance of the season. As I mentioned before, I had several.

In fact, just on Monday, a small ensemble of my High School Choir students sang some Christmas medleys and hymns at a dinner for brain injury survivors. It was a small, casual event in a church fellowship hall. Just before we sang, I took the students out a door into another room to warm up. No lights were on, but we could tell by the echo that it was a gym. Since we would just be a minute, I didn't mind the dark, but a couple of students persisted in trying to find the light switch for us. Finally someone found the switch. Only strangely, when he turned it on, the room was not filled with light. Instead, an incessant, loud, and urgent fire alarm sounded. Embarrassed, I re-entered the fellowship hall to seek assistance. I was relieved to find that the incredibly loud noise was not heard in the room of brain injury survivors....just the rest of the building. No one in the building knew what to do, and one of my students figured out how to turn the alarm off. So, we began our concert. My pianist was about to begin the intro to our first song when she called me over to the piano, "Mrs. Corbin, that wouldn't happen to be the fire department out in the parking lot, would it??" It was.

Last night, our concert was not so eventful. It *was* long (5th grade Band, Jr. High Band, High School Band, Middle School Choir, High School Choir, Beginner Strings, Intermediate Strings, Advanced Strings, Kindergarten, and Elementary Choir) Yes,...all in one concert. I was responsible for all but the bands. It was an amazingly complicated production....because of the number of fast stage changes and diverse sound equippment needs, and the sheer number of students involved. Since I was out in front of the stage conducting...with no control over about a hundred of my students waiting back stage, I just prayed that they would all show up on stage at the right time. They did. It was thrilling and exhausting. And just after the lights went out on stage and I was greeting my family and students' parents with smiles, I exclaimed into my (still on) microphone, "I'm Done!!"

With aching feet and a sore back, I crashed into bed as soon as I arrived home. And this morning, I received the most wonderful surprise phone call at 6:00 AM.
A snow day.
And so far, this is what I've done...

...finally, ten wonderful hours spent here...


















...and almost two hours spent here...



















...with this...




...and this.

anticipation and contentment

Life is a string of anticipation and longing. Hope and impatience are far too intertwined.
Even the happiest and most fulfilling moments of my life seem to be filled with some kind of anticipation for something else. Something that is next. The distraction of the future always seems to blur the present.
The breathtaking beauty of each season fills me with a great sense of responsibility to somehow soak it in. To capture it. To truly appreciate the fleeting perfection of what is all around me. The older I get, the more I try to hold on to the images, smells, feelings of beauty. But part of me is always longing for the next thing...

...Winter... warm houses that smell like candles, Christmas lights, family, snow transforming trees into icy lace, nostalgic music, black and white classic movies, presents, candle light concerts and church traditions...

Winter is next. And I am already imagining my red dining room lit with the glow of a Christmas tree, Ryan's train set circling around the base of the tree, stockings hanging from the banister covered with garland and berries, and all the windows filled with candles. But today is a perfect November day. The sky is just a little hazy, but still yellow and warm from the sun. Most of the trees are bare, but leaves seem to be everywhere, floating around like falling snow...only in rich, earthy colors.

Even more than my fascination with the changing seasons...is my longing for the next part of life. Already, so much of me belongs to my child. I know that I still don't even begin to comprehend how much I will love this baby. But I'm beginning to know. And the agony of not being able to see or hold this life that has taken over my body is excruciating and wonderful. I want to at least call her by name...or him. To talk to him and begin to imagine a son or a daughter.

Yet I know that my peaceful days and nights with Ryan will soon change forever. And that frightens me. I love the ease of our relationship, the spontanious ways we spend our time together.
And as much as I fantasize about being at home during the day next fall...giving up many of my work responsibilities and stresses, I love teaching every day. I love hearing smiling six year olds shout "Mrs. Corbin!!" and overwhelm me with hundreds of daily hugs. My students have become "my kids." Like a parent, I worry about my middle and high schoolers and all the decisions they will make about themselves and their futures and their friends. I see them every day, and I love sharing my life with them. I haven't made any solid decisions about what I will keep and what I will give up, but I know that whatever pieces are cut will be deeply missed. Though it probably won't compare with my new role, I will miss what I do now.

So I try to soak it in. Even the drudgery and the exhausting long days. I know that what is next is different and wonderful and beyond my understanding. There are very few moments when my thoughts are not consumed with the future...and my anticipation. But I don't want to miss the beauty of right now either.

My amazing friend Mandy works in a Children's ICU.

I've always told her that I could never do her job. The weight of all the sadness there would be too much for me. Children who are sick...sometimes dying. It seems so unnatural and wrong.

My job may require patience (occasionally there are *some* rough days), but I don't ever have to watch grieving parents watch their child suffer.

Schools are full of life...and hope. Mostly healthy kids, learning, playing, growing.

This morning at one of the elementary schools where I teach, I was surprised and concerned to see tears in the office. The matter-of-fact, cheerful, efficient secretary didn't greet me as usual. I thought maybe she had just received news about a family member or close friend. This afternoon, when I returned to the school, I understood.

The classroom teacher quickly tried to warn me that something really sad had happened....the kids might say something. We'd talk after class. But as I started to welcome the kids, several kindergarteners raised their hand.

"Mrs. Corbin, Alexis isn't here because she died."

It was true. My beautiful little kindergartener, died last night after complications from a heart operation.

We sang together. Silly songs about "Old King Cole" and "BINGO." They laughed and sang and played, but it was hard. Maybe not for them. They can't and probably shouldn't feel the weight of this. Not yet.

I think that must be the most awful pain that a parent could ever feel.

I still feel sick.

chains

My friend Rachel reminded me today about the incredible Story that should always preoccupy my thoughts.
Instead, I anxiously dwell on uncontrollable future events, past mistakes, insignificant frustrations, shallow desires...

..."how much more should our every day and every thought be consumed by the agony of hurting our loving God, our Creator, of sinning day after day and laughing about it. Yet Christ does not want us to walk in this misery, he wants us to walk in irrepressible joy, as one walking forth from a prison, our jail-time paid by his death."

A song I love came to my mind...


My chains fell off,
my heart was free!
I arose, went forth
and followed Thee
Amazing Love!
How can it be
That Thou, my God
shouldst die for me?

Daniel talked this week about chains...about what it means to be truly set free. How we sometimes like to go back to our bondage even though Someone died...for us to be free. I passionately sing together with my family of believers about my freedom and my "new life," but daily I use sarcastic, thoughtless words. I make value judgements of people based on physical, intellectual, social appearances. I live in luxury, consuming, wasting, and sometimes wanting more.

So if I'm really free,...and I'm really following--like the song says, I think the journey would probably lead me to people that are hurting. I'd most likely have lots of opportunities to show love and generosity like Jesus.

I'm pretty sure that happens every day. But I'm usually thinking about my own needs, and hopes, and insecurities. And I miss it.

In my better moments, those few times when I *am* aware, I get a glimpse of that fulfilling joy of true freedom.
I hope tomorrow is filled with that kind of living.