Praise du jour

Apart from insect infestations (the conclusion of the story to be revealed shortly--keep checking back), and an occasional computer crash (thanks go out to Ben M., for his kind work on my computer), my life is fairly uneventful, and my praises to God are for personal day-to-day things that may not make sense to other people in a blog. But once in a while I have to share certain experiences that were truly God's workings.

The last week Joelle and I have been frantically stuffing endless boxes and envelopes for GYC promo materials, which needed to go out this week. I think we've spent an average of 4 hours a day since Sunday on this, and along the way, have encountered numerous technical problems--computers, printers, ink, moving boxes between our houses numerous times, etc. (I've been reading a book about early Adventist history, where a quite a few of the Advent camp meetings in 1843-1844 drew 6,000+ people daily to hear William Miller preach about the soon return on Christ--and none of the organizers of these events even had cars, let alone Internet, mail merge programs, or Endicia pre-paid postage systems. But that's another blog.)

Yesterday evening Joelle, Norman and I loaded my Jetta to the brim with yet another shipment of envelopes to go out to all the SDA conferences on earth, I think, and my assignment for the day is to take them to the post office.

This morning at exactly 3 AM my car alarm went off. For a bit of background, there have been quite a few car break-ins in our neighborhood recently (the apartments in the area have carports with no garage doors). Also for clarification, although you hear endless car alarms all night and day from the kind of cars whose alarms go off at the slightest vibration or possibly affront to their feelings, my car alarm has never gone off before. I just knew that this meant someone was trying to break into my car. Granted, 500 brochures advertising "Be" are probably not the mother lode for car thieves, but I couldn't help thinking how disastrous it would be if someone decided to vandalize them for fun, or take them (or my car) away just to check if there was something more valuable in all of those boxes.

All of this was going through my head, in those odd intersomnious 3 AM moments, when everything is scarier than reality. I certainly didn't want to go out and try to chase anyone off all alone in the dark at that time, so there was nothing to do but pray. So I prayed and prayed, "Dear Jesus, this is your work and your ministry; please keep these brochures safe so they can get to the people who need them!" While I was praying, my favorite part of a hymn came to mind, "I Sing The Mighty Power of God:"

There's not a plant or flower below but makes Thy glories known;
And clouds arise, and tempests blow, by order from Thy throne.
Creatures that borrow life from Thee are subject to Thy care;
There's not a place where we can flee but God is present there.

I figured if God could do all of this, He could certainly protect some brochures.

Eventually I fell asleep, and first thing in the morning I went out to see what became of my car. There it was, completely intact, nothing missing and no damage to my car.

A postscript to the story: I was so excited that I called Joelle at 7:45 and told her the story so she could thank God with me, because I didn't think I could thank Him enough. Maybe that's what praise really is.

What's new, second edition

There are so many exciting things happening in my life right now, I can't help but share some of them with my friends on the blogosphere. Here are a few of the highlights:

1. My landlord kindly left me an extra bag of potting soil the other day. The front of the bag proudly boasts of its contents in large letters as such: "All Natural with Added Organic Ingredients: Worm Castings, Kelp Meal, Bat Guano, and Chicken Manure." I wonder if I'll plan on wearing gloves when I'm gardening from now on.

2. The critical phase of Operation Stupid Little Mothlike Flies in the Kitchen is in full effect. I killed about 10 of them the other night. The turning point occurred, however, when I found larvae in my bag of Cheerios, which I have not had in the cupboard for more than a week. Yesterday I spent a large part of the morning taking everything out of the pantry cupboard, throwing away large amounts of suspect food, inspecting every angle of everything else, and scrubbing. Now I realize that all I have left in the cupboard is a few cans of beans, an extra veal baby food jar for the cat, cereal (well locked up in tupperware), a can of powdered "wassail" which was a gift from a student last Christmas, and an unopened very large bottle of Vietnamese spring roll dipping sauce from when Monica lived here, I think (do you have any recollection of this, Monica?).

3. In other insect news, a black widow spider was found in my teaching studio at the school the other day--on the ceiling, precariously dangling above where my students usually stand. Needless to say, I moved to another room for the day and called maintenance. I know they did come the following morning looking for it, and there is now no spider in the place where it was; however, nobody told me whether or not they actually found it or not. I have an awful lot of bookcases in my studio.

4. I think it rained last night.

More exciting updates to come, I'm sure.

Annual Birthday Blog

This past week, I celebrated another year of life God has so graciously granted me. It's easy to take time, people, and events for granted, so a birthday is an excellent time to reflect on how God has led each of us in our lives. I was assigned by a friend the task of blogging the answer to the question, "How do I feel God has led me and blessed me in the past year?" Yesterday this same friend helped me define exactly what the answer is.

If I could sum everything up in a small statement, it would be this: Praise God that there are things in our life that we absolutely cannot control on our own. It just makes us realize how much we have to depend on God for constant guidance.

"Be careful for nothing; but in every thing by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known unto God. And the peace of God, which passeth all understanding, shall keep your hearts and minds through Christ Jesus." Phil. 4:6, 7.

Lessons learned...while teaching

A few thoughts today from today's violin lessons...

Today I was thinking about how some of my students resist letting their parents help them learn. The "secret trick" we have for teaching young violin students how to make a beautiful tone right from the beginning is: to do it for them. Once they have learned how to hold the violin and bow (a good 2-3 months right there), the day finally comes when they can put the bow on the string. The next thing that happens is not to let them move the bow on their own. Instead, for a few weeks, the teacher and the parent moves it for them. I teach the parents how to reach over and move the bow on the string while the student is holding the bow and violin in play position, just relaxing, a process called "patterning." In the process, the student learns the physical feeling of how the bow moves on the string properly, and most importantly, learns to relax his elbow while Mom or teacher does the work for him. In essence, by learning submission he learns the right way to make a beautiful, relaxed tone.

This works extremely well--until the child starts refusing to let Mom help him and wants to do it on his own. Scrub, scrub, scratch, scratch. This is where the fights and tears and "I wanna quit" breaks out at home practice time. Yes, it is practically inevitable that this will happen at some point. I try to counsel the parent to take control of the situation, not to let Junior manipulate or control her. Because the alternative is that the child will learn a pattern of disobedience--not to mention a tight bow arm and a horribly scratchy, uncontrollable bow stroke which is extremely difficult to unlearn, except by Mom regaining control and our young violinist learning to submit to authority.

Lesson number 1 is that we are all children, like it or not, and we have an Authority, as well as our earthly authorities. If we submit and let the ultimate Teacher and Parent control our bow arms for us, we will be able to make the most beautiful sound possible. If we think we can do it better on our own if we just work harder, we will make a scratchy, horrible sound. That's hard to unlearn.

Lesson number 2 comes from listening. The way I teach young beginners how to play new songs is by listening to them on the CD over and over again until the tunes are stuck in their memory, like new words for an infant building its vocabulary. This not only frees up the student to concentrate on technique, but also gives him a pattern of tone, phrasing, etc. to imitate. The music will flow out of the student naturally as if a recording were played in his mind, rather than "the C# comes after the E, then two beats on the B," etc. When the student has trouble remembering how to play the notes to a piece, all I ever say is, "Go home and listen some more." If the student has learned the notes wrong, my usual line is, "This week, listen to this piece more often than you play it. If you play it three times a day, listen to it four times; if you play it ten times, listen to it eleven times."

Oddly enough, this answers a philosophical question involving what we should be studying as Christians. Sometimes I've asked the question, "Should I study other religions, what other people believe as well as the Bible, so that I can relate to them and be able to answer their questions with knowledge of where they're coming from, rather than ignorance of everyone else's worldviews except my own?" It's a tough question, because it does make sense; however, the more we study other worldly philosophies without truly grounding our own beliefs the more danger we're in to be influenced by them.

How is this idea related? If my students have not listened to the CD enough to know the correct notes, they will have their own ideas stuck in their heads, and no matter how much they practice, they will be practicing the wrong notes to perfection. Practicing is great, though. Just be sure to study the real thing more than you practice your own wrong notes. Likewise, intellectual study and philosophical thoughts are great. Just be sure to study the real thing more than you study your own ideas, otherwise, you won't have the Pattern in your head, and your own philosophies will take precedence.

This thought occured to me when I was reading from 1 Testimonies, a letter of reproof to a Brother Hull: "You will receive more strength by spending one hour each day in meditation, and in mourning over your failings and heart corruptions and pleading for God's pardoning love and the assurance of sins forgiven, than you would by spending many hours and days in studying the most able authors, and making yourself acquainted with every objection to our faith, and with the most powerful evidences in its favor." (1T 433-434)

What's the bean???

The other day I had the privilege of accompanying Monica to her ultrasound appointment. It was very interesting; amazing what technology can see nowadays. I was one of the first to see the little face and toes! So...what is the bean? I won't tell, you have to click here. (I will, however, say that the little hands have great potential for a very nice bow hold.)

Photo albums

By popular demand (Tim), I have published several photo albums.






One of the albums includes pictures from various friends' weddings I've attended recently (this one from Alison and Jay's).

as well as Yosemite.

Tannhauser

For some reason, I don't know why, I've been wanting to be able to play Wagner's Overture to Tannhauser on my blog, and now I finally figured out how. Click the arrow on the blue bar to the right twice to listen to Tannhauser while reading my blog.

On Bible Promises and Chocolate Fondue to go with them

Yesterday I enjoyed a lovely day with my best friend Monica in Pasadena. Unfortunately, her husband Andrew left that morning to go to Washington DC until early September for AFIP. I was having kind of a tough day myself, so we indulged in a trip for some girly "retail therapy" (although neither of us bought very much, but it was fun to window-shop). We also splurged on a four-course dinner at a restaurant called The Melting Pot. This restaurant is unique in that every table has its own stovetop burner, on which they put the pot that you can dip things into. The first course was a cheese fondue, with bread chunks and pieces of raw vegetables and apples were dipped in the pot of melted cheese. Then a salad, and the main course, which in our case was the vegetable plate, for which they bring out pieces of all sorts of different raw vegetables. The pot is now filled with boiling vegetable broth to cook all the vegetables and things in. But, of course, the crowning glory was the chocolate fondue, with strawberries (my favorite), banana, pineapple, poundcake, and cheesecake pieces to dip in the chocolate. Not a meal I'd indulge in very often, but after all, I had a duty to console Monica! :)

Speaking of consolation, I get the feeling nowadays that many Christians pretty much use the Bible solely as a source of "nice verses" of consolation, wisdom, etc. For that alone, we might as well consult Confucius or Hallmark. I've been studying the book of Deuteronomy lately, which has some beautiful moments (ch. 7:12-26; ch. 28:1-14), and some not-so-pretty ones (ch. 9; ch. 28:15-68). I'd pretty much sum up the book of Deuteronomy with the words from 11:26-28--

"Behold, I set before you this day a blessing and a curse;
A blessing, if ye obey the commandments of the LORD your God, which I command you this day:
And a curse, if ye will not obey the commandments of the LORD your God, but turn aside out of the way which I command you this day, to go after other gods, which ye have not known."

I believe that everyone who wants to claim the beautiful promises in the Bible should also read and claim the words from the books of the Pentateuch and the Prophets.

With that in mind, here's a tiny list of texts I've been looking at lately that have brought courage and hope. (I'm going to make my blog readers do some homework and look them up for themselves!)

Exodus 33:18-23

Psalm 27:13

Psalm 68:6

Daniel 12:12

John 14:14

Revelation 21:1

Names

Of all the spectacular, mind-boggling events that took place in the process of Creation and Earth's early days, it's difficult to imagine which ones would have been the most beautiful. Perhaps the process of God speaking the words of Life to bring everything into existence (or, as C.S. Lewis imagines it in The Magician's Nephew, He sang the words, which brings an interesting picture to the imagination), or Adam's first look into God's eyes, or Eve's eyes? Of course. But also, as I imagine it, I think one of the most fun parts would have been when Adam named the animals.

Names have always held such a special meaning that you could almost say that part of a being's personality is in their name. I am thinking of Parsnip the Opossum. Of all the forest creatures which came to the back porch, Sam Campbell-style, of my childhood home in the Ohio woods, the opossum was not necessarily one of the loveliest. It rather looked like an overgrown rat. But when someone in my family (I can't remember who it was) came up with a name for him--Parsnip (think of the shape and color of the tail)--suddenly, he was a cute pet.

From what I gather, names of people in ancient languages, especially Hebrew, held more meaning that names today. People named their children according to the characteristics they wanted them to have, or what was especially important to them, or describing some event or experience surrounding their birth. I can only imagine that Adam used his language to name the animals the same way. But what characteristics would he have chosen for each animal to describe it?

I can only imagine the bonding experience between Adam and God as they discussed what Adam thought of God's creatures. It would have been so much fun for Adam and God to share thoughts on what these creatures seemed like to them. Maybe the first ancient name for "cat" meant "that furry thing that won't stop pouncing my ankles." Or, "dog" meant "whenever I throw something like a stick away, it brings it right back." Maybe "spider" meant "too many legs" or "penguin" meant "oddly-shaped birdlike creature that doesn't fly and wears a tuxedo." "Giraffe" meant "get a load of that neck!" and "pig" meant "really pink with a weird nose." And, of course, "opossum" meant "overgrown rat with a tail like a parsnip." I can see Adam and God just rolling with laughter together at these descriptions.

Bitterness

I'm writing this blog because I am bored--this is my practice time, and I would really like to practice (most of the time I don't; I'm suffering from severe lack of motivation right now), however, I can't--my A string is breaking. You would think that I would actually follow my own advice I tell all my students: "You must have an extra set of strings, in case one breaks," but I'm not smart enough for that. I ordered one today, and it should arrive later in the week or early next week (holiday Wednesday...sigh), but until then I can either practice only Air on the G String or something comparable, or not practice at all. So I'm writing, to pass time.

Today's subject: plums. I have a nice medium-sized plum tree in my yard, next to the sidewalk. My landlord planted it before I moved in. Last year, it yielded all of 3 lovely plums. Just as I was going to pick them, someone came along and ripped them all off. I was very upset. I had been thinking of putting a sign on my tree this year, "Thou shalt not steal plums" or something to that effect. But this year, the tree yielded such an immense profusion of plums, I took a few just before they were quite ready to ripen inside (they were amazingly sweet and tasty), and planned to harvest the rest in a few days. I was looking forward to the plum harvest so much, because growing up in Ohio, we didn't have lots any fruit trees to harvest. I thought it would be safe because I had so many plums that even if someone came and stole a few, that would be OK, I would share some with my neighbors, and they wouldn't possibly take all the plums.

That was the plan. So a few days ago, I went out to harvest my lovely plums which I had waited so long for, patiently watching as they slowly ripened, to see the sad fact--every last one of the plums was gone! I was shocked that someone would possibly be rude enough (and in Loma Linda, of all places!) to steal every single plum off the tree in my yard, on private property. Needless to say, this tormented me bitterly inside. I went around grumbling about the stolen plums all week. Which made me think--if I am this bitter about some stolen fruit, which wasn't really mine anyway, how would I react if someone did something really bad to me?

Professor Steph

Writing this title, I'm reminded of our dear family friend Pastor Wil Alexander, who, knowing that I teach violin lessons (to little kids) at the elementary school, always addresses me as "Professor...."

Well, tomorrow morning I'm off to Yosemite, camping with friends. My brand new Canon 28-135 mm F3.5-5.6 IS lens arrived in the mail today, right on time, so pictures should be forthcoming in a following blog (if I remember).

I'm looking forward to a little vacation, since I can't afford to take off work time for an actual vacation this summer, thanks to the US Treasury and the democrats. However, I wish I had a couple of extra days this weekend to work on a project I just found out about. I registered for a conference at La Sierra University next weekend called the Camerata of Adventist Musicians, kind of a very small GYC for musicians. Wolfgang Stefani, a pastor and musician from Australia who has done extensive research into the spiritual nature of musical aesthetics and Adventism, will be the keynote speaker, and Israel Ramos, GYC president, will be giving the devotional meetings. The conference seems to be lacking in a certain amount of planning however, given that an advertisement email was sent out to all the local musicians after the actual deadline (and this was the first I had heard about it), and it was only yesterday that I got the email with the conference schedule and, oh yes, I'm assigned to present a lecture recital on Friday at 1:30...

I have to reiterate that this was the absolute first I had heard about presenting a lecture recital next Friday. So I've been frantically deliberating what I am going to speak about (we are to choose two pieces to present), researching about the music, writing a paper about them, and practicing them because I have to talk and play. I feel like I'm back at school again. Or perhaps I even feel like I'm a real intellectual scholar or something, presenting lecture recitals at conferences. Maybe I'll make the conference circuit, and they'll be asking for me at Yale. Or, maybe if the speakers are recorded, I'll even make it to AudioVerse (just kidding)! All right, enough dreaming and back to work so I can make a little progress on this before I leave tomorrow morning, because next week I only have two days to work on it (and they are full teaching days).

On being a violin teacher, part 1

I'm titling this blog "Part 1" because I hope to do a better job in the future of collecting these little vignettes from the life of a violin teacher. I'm not nearly as good at remembering all the great stuff as my friend Joanna, the piano teacher, who's always full of great stories. But here's a start.

One of the assignments I give to all my students each week is to write down the title and composer of one piece of classical music they listened to that week. One fifth-grade girl showed me her assignment, a piece she listened to by Tchaikovski--perfectly spelled, but she said she didn't know how to pronounce his name. After instructing her on the pronunciation, I wanted to make a connection to help her remember this composer, since he is a pretty important one to know about. I asked her if she had ever seen The Nutcracker at Christmastime, to which she replied, "I've seen the Barbie version!" Good enough.

Today I was handed this piece of paper from another fifth grader. The student dutifully informed me the composer was Bach. I realize he did write a Coffee Cantata (this is true), but I was not aware that he wrote a piece to go with it for his afternoon snack.

Perhaps the Bach she had in mind was PDQ?

Throwing rocks at goats

Today I was listening to a brilliant opus by David Asscherick while getting some D vitamins by the pool. The topic was various concrete proofs of the Bible's authenticity, including the Dead Sea Scrolls.

Besides being infinitely powerful, brilliant, and loving beyond any human comprehension, God is also incomprehensively imaginative and downright, well, charming in His ways. Think of all the multiple millions of dollars spent each year sending the most intellectual scientists from the most prestigious institutions who have studied every aspect of archaeology for decades and using the most expensive and advanced technology the 21st century has to offer in hopes of finding shards here and there of material that might just give evidence for this and that in ancient history. Meanwhile, probably the largest and most important historical finding in archaeological history, hundreds of documents, beautifully preserved and sealed from antiquity in tidy time-proof jars, comprising almost the entire Old Testament of His Word is discovered by--a shepherd kid throwing rocks at his goat in a cave.

This is the kind of God I love to worship--who not only answers prayers, points us to Him, and protects the knowledge about Him, but often does it in a completely unexpected and often--may I say it?--amusing way. We don't have to accomplish a lot for God to accomplish His will. And yes, He does have a sense of humor.

Screwtape letters

Here's a real life example of The Screwtape Letters.

Interesting to see how others think sometimes...

You Are Scooter

Brainy and knowledgable, you are the perfect sidekick.You're always willing to lend a helping hand.In any big event or party, you're the one who keeps things going."15 seconds to showtime!"

a href="The Muppet Personality Test

What's new, first edition

Although I am delighted to get back in touch with old friends that I haven't talked with for a while, sometimes I am baffled at the question, "so, what's new in your life?" Often these friends will contact me with news that they are getting married, graduated from law school, pregnant with their third child, took a trip on SpaceShipOne, etc. I feel like I don't have a lot of news to share from my end of things. But of course, that is not true! There is plenty of news to share! Why wait for a Christmas letter? Here's just a modest sampling:

1. I learned that if I plug my vacuum cleaner into the socket in the bathroom, I can reach all of my rugs--including my bedroom, studio room and the kitchen rug--without unplugging and moving.

2. Nowadays, some black birds have taken residence near my bedroom window and start chirping at about 5 AM. Especially in the half-dreamy state of waking, sometimes they seem to sound like staplers.

3. I listened to student recitals for 6 hours last Sunday. Contrary to how that may sound, it was actually fun to hear them play. My student C.S. accomplished playing the Bach minuet without forgetting the repeats. One student in our program even managed to play that spot in Corelli's La Folia with the high C's in tune (mostly)!

4. Nudge does not like the black cat that wanders around my yard. A couple of times he took off in a fierce rage after it from indoors, slamming into the screen door. Most of the time I'd assume Nudge was Danish for his phlegmatic nature, but I've never seen so much passion from that cat before. I don't know if he actually realized that there was a screen door between him and the persona non grata, but I'm sure Nudge will tell you that it was planned that way exactly. He sounds a lot like a dog rather than a cat when he growls. I told him that but he didn't seem to be very offended.

5. I think I can play through this entire Brahms piano quartet without getting too tired, which is great considering the performance is next Wednesday. Including our upcoming rehearsal scheduled for Sunday, God willing, we will have had a total of two rehearsals with all four of the same performers.

6. Speaking of performances, my friend and colleague Theresa is having her final doctoral recital Saturday. She's playing the same Stravinski Divertimento that I played for one of my masters' recitals. Great piece.

7. I decided that burritos made entirely of refried beans and veggie beef are too heavy for lunch, and sap my energy so I have to sit on the sofa and write blogs when I should be practicing.

8. I am 13 minutes older than I was when I started writing this blog entry.

Stay tuned for more exciting adventures from Steph Land to come!!

Google Buster

I just Googled "How to lead a Bible study" and came up with 7,050 hits. Then I added "Adventist" and got 1 hit. I tried adding "SDA" and got 0 hits. Somebody ought to do something about that.

Mark your calendars!

May 23--the big performance of the Brahms Piano Quartet in C Minor Op. 60. Does that sound impressive, or what? And by "big performance" I mean "hopefully more than twelve people in the audience." Nothing will be said about the amount of rehearsal time given to this piece, considering that the violist lives in Santa Barbara and the pianist lives in Sacramento. Scheduling is the bane of every musician's existence.... Well, I can only say that I savor any opportunity to play Brahms chamber music. For more information than that...well, you'll just have to come hear it!

Known

God speaks about Abraham: "For I know him, that he will command his children and his household after him, and they shall keep the way of the LORD, to do justice and judgment; that the LORD may bring upon Abraham that which he hath spoken of him." Genesis 18:19, KJV.

In all the other versions, this text starts with something to the effect of "For I have known him, in order that he may command his children..." (NKJV) "I have singled him out so that he will direct his sons..." (NLT) "For I have chosen him, so that he will direct his children..." (NIV) and so on. But I like the way KJV puts it, "I know him, that he will...." To me that sounds like God is saying, "I know this guy, I know that he's trustworthy and will command his children and his household...I know he'll keep My ways. I know him. That's why I'll reveal this thing to him." The other versions have a kind of predestination thing going on. Anybody know which is the most accurate translation?

(By the way, Patriarchs and Prophets p. 140-141 has some good commentary on this.)

I wonder also if this might be a clue to Paul's whole predestination thing. It's not so much that God has chosen us for such and such without our will, but rather that He knows us. He knows if we'll be trustworthy or not.

Of course, the logical question arises: What does God know about me?

Taking things literally

I made the mistake of listing our final violin group class rehearsal before the performance on the schedule as a "dress rehearsal." About ten students--and parents!-- have asked me within the last week if they are required to wear their concert dress clothes to the rehearsal. No, it is a figure of speech.

Crush

I have a crush on a new celebrity. Surprise?

A lesson in healthcare professionalism

Many of my friends who may be reading my blog are healthcare professionals or students. Here is a lesson in professional healthcare you may be interested in.

What the best nurse does:

1. Provide Sam Cambell nature books for the patient when she is in bed for 3 days with the flu. As soon as the patient's flu begins to show signs of bronchitis, make a house call immediately, and watch the silliest Fred Astaire song-and-dance movie you can find with the patient (preferably from 1950 or before). Wash all her dishes when she isn't looking.

2. If the patient develops a fever over 101 degrees, a resting pulse rate of 140 or higher, can only breathe with rapid, shallow, wheezing breaths and develops nausea and dizzyness from sitting up, call a doctor (preferably a radiologist) to listen to the patient's breathing with his stethoscope for diagnosis. Then pack the patient's belongings personally and immediately admit the patient to a hospital for overnight observation.

3. The nurse should choose the hospital carefully. Although there are a great many choices of excellent, world-class healthcare facilities in my area, the best of them all, a little-known secret--where I was admitted--is a small facility, in fact, a one-bed hospital with one doctor (the same radiologist) and nurse (the same nurse) on staff 24/7. This luxurious facility boasts a lovely hospital room (convenienly also serving as a bike storage room) queen-sized pillow-topped mattress bed with four huge pillows, silky sheets, a down comforter, windows opening to a garden, excellent food, and the best patient care around.

4. The next morning before the patient is discharged, sit in bed with her and read books and watch Wallace and Grommit cartoons on the laptop.

Lest anyone think this is an impossibility for a healthcare professional, I will testify that I personally received exactly this treatment from one such healthcare team this week! Thank you so much, Andrew and Monica!

Listening

Two Christians went for a walk in the mountains on a beautiful Sabbath day. One of the Christians was born and raised in the country, the other was from the city.

"Listen to the beautiful sound of the birds!" the country dweller said to his companion.

"It's a nice sound, but I don't understand what they are saying," replied the city dweller. "It would be much better if they sang with words, in English of course, so we could understand their songs of praise to God. As it is, I don't understand, so where's the spiritual meaning for me?"

"Just because they don't speak English doesn't mean their song is not a joyful hymn of praise to God!" the country man said. "But look here, see these beautiful rocks? Look at the way they sparkle as the water cascades over them, and listen to the delicate melody of the stream! See all the layers of design on each rock?"

"The sound of the water doesn't speak Bible texts, and the rocks say nothing either. See, wouldn't it be an improvement if we took a sandblaster and etched Bible verses on each of the rocks? Then we would get a real spiritual blessing from them! As it is, they're just lumps of hard stuff."

The country dweller scratched his head and looked around. He drew his companion's attention to the majestic trees all around. "Yes," the city man agreed. "Just think of how many Bibles and religious tracts could be made from all of these trees, if we made a plan to cut them all down!"

The country man grew more frustrated as he sat on a rock, listening to the sound of the water. "Let's sing some hymns!" yelled the city man as he whipped out a guitar and started strumming loudly away.

"Can't we just listen to the sound of God's nature for two minutes?" the country man tried to interject.

"Sounds mean nothing without words! Where's the spiritual meaning? I don't understand it. In the city, where I come from, we never lsiten to any music without spiritual meaning!"

"That's because you have so many sounds there masking the natural sounds God has given us that you've eventually forgotten how to listen," his friend replied. "Car horns, TV, rock music in stores, everywhere. Just sit with me for a minute and really listen to the music God has given us, the beauty He has created. The spiritual meaning is intrinsic, and you are free to assign any spiritual meaning to it that is in your heart, whether it's illustrative of a certain battle with sin in your life, the glory of Creation, thankfulness for the gift of life and friendship, or simply expressing something no poet could ever express in words--something we catch glimpses of in earthly beauty at times, something that we can chase all our lives but we will never truly experience fulfillment of until the Earth is made a new Creation."

But his city-dwelling companion, not interested in such sentiments, was already on his fourth verse of "Nearer, My God To Thee," still strumming loudly. Sighing, the country lover led his friend near a cozy little cabin at the edge of the woods. There was a beautiful rose garden filled with every variety of beautiful, sweet-smelling roses surrounding the cabin, well kept by an expert gardener.

"It's nice, but do we know that the gardener is a Christian?"

"Why does it matter? We are not talking about the gardener but the roses themselves! You might as well ask if the birds themselves are Christians!"

"Are they? If not, I don't want to listen to them!" he said as he put on his iPod and started listening to the Heritage Singers.

The country man threw up his hands with resignation and they walked back to his friend's Lexus SUV.

Spring evenings

Yesterday a couple of friends and I enjoyed our first evening eating out on my patio this year. It's only the middle of March, but the weather has been insanely warm, which leads to very pleasant, balmy evenings. As the sun set, we had supper by candelight under a profusion of highly scented jasmine flowers cascading over my little garden. The plum and apricot trees are beginning to blossom, and my poor pathetic tree in front is starting to sprout leaves, too. This is a beautiful time of year.

In other news, one of my students had a violin recital today (all by himself!) He did a great job and I'm proud, once again, of all my adorable, charming, bright children...all 40 of them.

Karaoke

It's that time of year again, Restoration. (Restoration is the annual revival series we put on for the students and community, we being mostly LLU students, since I guess it's a LLU student organization, but people like me, a non-student from Advent Hope, get to help out, too.) Usually the series is two and a half weeks long, but this year it will be only five days, starting tomorrow. And as usual, I have my usual duty of arranging musicians for special music. And as usual, I have enforced my "no-karaoke" policy (i.e., no sountracks for vocalists).

Why am I such a stick-in-the-mud about this point? As a "classical" (read: snobby) musician who plays a 218-year-old instrument, do I just need to keep up with the times? There are several reasons why I can't bring myself to allow it. Partly because canned music is against union regulations. Partly because some (not all) soundtracks have drumbeats that nobody likes (and it's harder to censor what you get on a track), partly because I've heard too many badly handled soundtrack cues from the PA system ("Put on the track! What do you mean it doesn't work? No, track 12, not track 11! Not that CD, the other one! The one with the sheep on the front!" etc.). But all of that can be avoided in most cases, and certainly both the musicians and the PA operators I work with are people I know and trust, so that's not the main issue.

When someone asked me about it, all of a sudden it finally came to mind exactly why I have this strict policy. Worship is done by people, living, breathing people, who walk into a church after a week of problems, disappointments, fears, frustrations, and joys, and take all those emotions they've accumulated during the week and give them over to God. When you walk into a house of worship, whether it's a church, a meeting room or a PT lab, you can almost feel the questions, the frustrations, the prayers--not unlike the experience of smelling the fragrant incense which represented the prayers in the ancient tabernacle. And worship is those people, sometimes the ones with the biggest questions, getting up front and praising God. When you put on the disembodied band music, who are they? Would they want to be in this place?

Not that I have anything against recordings, at home or in the car, when you can't hear a live performance. But the reason why people pay money to go to the concert hall to hear a symphony they've heard a million times before on a CD is because of the living quality of the music that's made by living people. And that quality, combined with the spirit of praising God, is what worship is all about.

Happy Valentine's Day

I had completely forgotten that today was Valentine's Day until I saw Google's logo bedecked with, of all things, a chocolate-dipped strawberry. Thinking that "Chocolate-Dipped Strawberry Day" was definitely a holiday to celebrate, I then noticed that it was a reference to Valentine's Day. So, in celebration of that holiday (although, I believe a much inferior reason to celebrate than my original idea), here is an essay about love that I wrote a while back.

God Loves Us

Today I was reading 1 John 4. Some texts require lots of exegesis to study, such as the beginning point of the 2300 days or the identity of the king of the North in Daniel 11:36-39. But some questions in the Bible are answered pretty simply and directly.

Q: Who loves us? How do we know we are loved?
A: 1 John 4:9–
"In this was manifested the love of God toward us, because that God sent his only begotten Son into the world, that we might live through him.

Q:Why should we love God?
A:1 John 4:18–
"We love him, because he first loved us."

It’s a pretty short study. There are probably 50 more points we can get out of the brief passage, each of them as important as eternity and just as comforting, too. But in this frantic, unloving world everyone needs to be presented with at least this information, right here; whether or not they choose to believe and embrace it or to rationalize it away and ignore it is their choice. But the simple statement–"He first loved us," means everything if you choose to believe it. Imagine, just imagine, being loved by the Creator and Sustainer of the universe! Looking outside at the world around us and knowing that it’s a gift to us from God, a token of His love. Everbody wants to be loved. And everybody knows that when a man is in love with a woman he will not give up easily but will do anything he can to try to win her love–cards, flowers, dates, sweet expressions of affection and assurance that he cares about her. Think how much farther God has gone to provide expression of His love for us–all the gifts of the natural world, and much more, the gift of Jesus to provide a way that He can be with us and us with Him, despite the gulf that exists now. That really is love.

Does your god love you?

Barton Road

I still recall with pride the one--and possibly only--occcasion when I was able to embarrass Monica. It happened on a Sabbath at exactly 12:30 PM, at the intersection of Barton and Anderson, where I kicked a pine cone all the way as we crossed Barton Road, looking like a crazy person as the entire membership of University Church waited at the stoplight.

I was humbled yesterday when I walked back home from my eye appointment near the intersection of Barton and Mountain View. I didn't know that the optometrist was going to dialate my eyes, and I had not taken sunglasses with me because it was not bright enough in the morning to think of it. He gave me a ridiculous piece of flimsy brown plastic to serve as disposable sunglasses, which of course did not stay on my face and looked absolutely silly. When he gave them to me, I thought, "I'm not wearing this walking down Barton Road in the middle of a busy weekday!" But the moment I stepped outside into the California sunshine, the pain of the light started to overshadow even the embarrassment of having to wear the silly contraption. So there I was, walking westbound on Barton, right across from the one and only grocery store in town, along the main thoroughfare of Loma Linda, wearing a floppy piece of brown plastic on my face. Hopefully nobody recognized me, wearing my shades.

Disney Hall

Lately I have had several chances to hear concerts at Disney Hall in LA. Sometimes I feel like I never get out of Loma Linda, so to be able to go to LA to hear concerts two weeks in a row was really unusual. The first one, two weeks ago, was a recital by Hilary Hahn, one of my favorite violinists (26 years old, how jealous am I). She played sonatas by Janacek, Mozart, Beethoven, and Tartini. I think I was most interested in the Janacek. I was not aquainted with that piece, only his Sinfonietta (orchestra with 12 trumpets, yeah!) and a couple of his string quartets, all of which I like, although they have kind of a sparse, lonely, Eastern European feel to them. The Tartini sonata ("Devil's Trill") was exciting, but had too many devilish trills. I love Hahn's tone--very silvery, shimmery vibrato, although by the same token there were times I wished she would use a bit more variation in tone color, since so many of the works on the program were from different periods. I went with my friend/colleague Jenn, and we sat in the "choir loft" section behind the stage. We agreed that these were pretty good seats, despite the unusual angle--the sound of solo violin and piano was very clear anyway, and we were very close to the stage. I also have to mention the pianist, Valentina Lisitsa, who I didn't know, but I loved her playing and the ensemble was amazing.

The second Disney Hall concert I attended was the very next week was of the music of Steve Reich by the LA Master Chorale. If you are reading this because you know me, you may already know that I am a fan. Apparently I am the only person I know who likes Reich's music. (I went to the concert with my brother Karl, and I don't think he was very impressed.) So I was excited to hear the West Coast premiere of Daniel Variations, a piece for small choir (about 15 singers) and instrumental ensemble (amplified string quartet, 2 clarinets, 4 pianos, 4 mallet instruments and other percussion--fairly typical Reich instrumentation) based on a few texts from the book of Daniel and also quotes from Daniel Pearl. Also on the program was the "You Are" variations, which was written for LAMC and premiered by them last year. I liked both of those pieces, but they sound very much the same. In the past few years, it seems like Reich's music has grown more and more formulaic. His music has always been formulaic, but this particular formula reached its peak a few pieces ago. Reich's greatest masterpiece, in my opinion, is still Music for 18 Musicians, written in 1976.

Brilliant minds

I just read a fascinating news article which states that a new study shows that keeping your mind active may help ward off Alzheimer's disease. I'm sure nobody had ever thought of that before. (If they had, they might not have gotten Alzheimer's so quick, huh?)

This is why I'm trying to learn the last movement of the Barber concerto. Gotta get a head start. Although by the time I can actually play it, senility may have set in. Who will win--Barber or Alzheimer?

How A Disobedient Cat Can Save You A Useless Hour of Driving

This comes under the category of "worth blogging about?"

I usually teach at the academy all afternoon, from about 2:30 to 6:30 on Wednesdays. Tonight I had a rehearsal scheduled at 7:30 in Ontario, about 30 minutes away. With traffic, grabbing something from Del Taco, and wanting to arrive early, I wouldn't normally go home before heading off on the I-10 freeway. But today, a very unusual thing happened--Just before I was heading off to teach, I remembered that my cat may still have been outside, and I always want him inside after dark, for fear of coyotes. I called and called and got out his favorite treat, veal baby food, to bribe him in, but he never showed up. Finally it was literally 2 minutes before my first lesson was to start (good thing the school is 2 minutes away), and I really had to leave, so I left him. I was worried about the poor guy all afternoon, so before I left for rehearsal I squeezed in a trip home, just for a second, to check on him. There he was, safe and sound, on my bed; he had been inside the whole time. Since I was there anyway, I happened to check my new messages on my machine, and of all things--the orchestra manager had called at about 4:30 that afternoon and left a message that the rehearsal was cancelled! I would never have checked my messages if it weren't for my cat, and I would have been on my way to Ontario, an hour out of my way, only to find an empty rehearsal room.

Currier and Ives comes to Loma Linda, California

Global warming?

Jury duty

This past Tuesday I was called to jury duty. For the benefit of those who have never done this, I'll give a report of what happened.

I was a little concerned about having to do this, mostly because I am self-employed. Although I actually think it would be kind of interesting to participate in the process, I don't have an employer to pay me for jury time, as most employers do (I guess they're required by law). But if I had to be there all day or all week, I would have to call each individual student to cancel or reschedule, and unless I could reschedule (which is a hassle for 40 private students) I'd lose the money, also my poor students have not had lessons for two weeks over vacation anyway, and some of them are having to re-learn their bow holds as it is... It would be fine for a day or two, but not good for two weeks. I sent in the slip to be excused, but it was denied; they no longer excuse people for being self-employed.

I called the court the night before as they said, and yes, I still had to show up at 8:00 the next morning. So, into San Bernardino at 8 AM I went, not having a clue what would happen. I kept my 3:30 class scheduled for later that day, hoping that I would either be excused or I'd be able to call the school to cancel it before then.

I arrived early, in case I didn't know where to park, which of course was the case. I parked in a lot that had absolutely no signs or any indication of who was/wasn't supposed to park there, but it did have quite a few important-looking men in suits and briefcases coming out of their cars. I took my chances. I had to stand in a long line to get into the courthouse--they were just opening at about 7:45, and everyone had to go through airport-style security. I put my purse on the X-ray belt and was about to take off my shoes to go through the gate, but nobody else did. Guess nobody has tried to blow up a courthouse yet using a shoe-bomb.

When you enter the courthouse, the first thing you see is a hot dog stand, which I thought was kind of strange. All sorts of seedy characters were hanging out there, eating pretzles at 7:45 in the morning. Were all these people jurors? Soon I noticed that they started heading upstairs to traffic court. Now I get it. But where do I go? There were no signs for jurors. Finally I followed another juror, who was as lost as I was, but we managed to go down several halls and an elevator to the basement juror assembly room.

I knew that there are 12 jurors on a criminal trial. I assumed that they pick several extras to dismiss if their uncles are the lawers or the defendants or whatnot. I even thought that there may be more than one trial going on that day. But I didn't expect to see about 300 prospective jurors in one huge room! I stood in a long line to get checked in, which grew longer until everyone had arrived, by about 8:45. With all these people, I figured I had a pretty good chance of going home early. As I watched the line grow, I thought, "All these people, in the San Bernardino area alone, and a new batch every day, and I don't know a one of them. There are a lot of people in this world!" I did, however, end up knowing one of them, a trombone player named Brett who is on the church vespers committee with me. He came and sat by me and we chatted to pass the time. He told me that last time he was called he did have to serve on the jury--it took them 2 days to select the jury, and 2 days for the trial. All day long.

After another half hour or so, they posted everyone's names in groups A-E on bulletin boards. I was in group C, along with about 75 others. Brett was in group A. After another half hour, his group was called up to the courtroom. I just waited; they never said anything about my group. (Bring a book.) After another half hour or so, he came back, he was excused--conveniently enough, his wife is due to have a baby in a few weeks, so he could use that. Groups D and E were also excused. Finally, at about 10:45, the judge came into the room for Group C. He said they had settled the case, so we were not needed. Thankfully, I got in line to receive my pink slip which said I was free to go and wouldn't be called for another year. I'll continue this story next year, when I'm sure to be called again.

David Asscherick groupies

Back to normal life now...I had a lovely visit with my parents at their home near Dayton, Ohio (hi dad) over Christmas. It was wonderful to have some time to relax, talk with them, visit a few old friends, and generally do little else besides curl up by the fireplace. Too bad there was no white Christmas. In fact, it was pretty much in the 50s the whole time...the entire eastern U.S. has been having an extremely mild winter, unfortunately for the ice-fishing competitions in Minnesota, but fortunately for the golfers in Chicago. Must be global warming. (Oh, wait, there's a gazillion feet of snow over the Rockies...)

(See, Dad, I didn't really complain about the gloomy weather!)

After a much-needed rest and visit at home, I went to the General Youth Conference in Baltimore. As always, it was filled with nonstop challenging seminars and messages from the A-list of truly dedicated, Scripture-based teachers and evangelists. Wow. Some of my favorite parts were the seminars I went to by Samuel Pippin (excellent series on the authority of the Bible and how to deal with some of its difficulties which are often attacked), and sermons by Michael Hasel and David Asscherick.

Speaking of David Asscherick, here's a little description of the kind of young people you can find even in America today.

First of all, it must be said that pretty much every teenage girl has had some "idol" at some point. (Before you get offended at the accusation of "idol worship," let's define this as the kind of crush a girl gets on someone that she really admires, at the point in her life when she is working on maturing emotionally.) If you're a female, admit it, you've had one. Most average girls have crushes on either actors or rock stars. (Mine was Joshua Bell, of course.) If you're a male, I can't speak for you; I don't know what was going through your mind when you were 14.

My friend Jenn put together a chamber orchestra for special music Friday night, and there were a couple violinists sitting near me who were high school girls. As we were onstage preparing for the service, one of the organizers came out and told us that we would be staying onstage for the entire sermon. At that, a few of the girls started piping up, "What!! David Asscherick is speaking, right?? You mean, we actually get to sit right here the whole time while DAVID ASSCHERICK IS SPEAKING!!!??" After the service was over, we exited to offstage, and a couple of the girls just surrounded him, chattering to him with that all-familiar kind of nervous girlish talk, which goes something like, "Yeah, I'm a sophomore and I go to an all-girls private school in Chattanooga but next year I think I'm going to Collegedale Academy and our volleyball team always plays them and my sister goes to..." and so on.

The point is: isn't it refreshing that, if girls will be girls anyway, that there really are girls of the caliber that would idolize...a conservative, Bible-preaching Adventist evangelist?

Christmas in Ohio

I'm here in Bellbrook, Ohio for Christmas with my parents. I'm writing this blog with my dad looking over my shoulder because he wants to see how I do it. I'm trying to convince him to start a blog of his own so I can look at it every day, too.

Book Review

Tonight, after I returned home from a long day, with a still-sore foot from my fall yesterday that left me hobbling all day, I was frustrated by a minor personal irritation, so instead of ruminating over it I looked for something to just get my mind off of it. I had on my table great works of philosophy and inspiration. But I bypassed them and settled down for the next hour with the great classic The Bobbsey Twins On A Houseboat, by Laura Lee Hope (reprinted 2004, Grosset & Dunlap). (One of my twelve-year-old students had left it on the table after his last lesson.)

Plot synopsis: The Bobbsey siblings, two sets of twins--twelve-year-olds Bert and Nan and six-year-olds Freddie and Flossie--find a houseboat for sale on the lake near their home. They try to convince their father to buy it, which he promptly does in the next chapter. Soon, along with cousins, parents, a politically incorrectly-characterised cook (first edition: 1955) and the dog and cat, they are on their way down the river on a houseboat vacation. Along the way, they put out fires and escape storms and drowning. Snap the dog rescues Snoop the cat when he falls overboard. Tall, red-bearded Capton McGinton scolds Harry mildly for disobeying orders and swimming alone, then promptly gives all the children candy bars. I got as far as Dorothy saving the lifeboat singlehandedly, when I finally gave up on it.

Rating: one to five stars, depending which side of 12 years old you are on.

'Tis the season

Here's an open invitation, for whomever of my friends might happen to be reading this (including my dad, but it would be a long drive) to come to the Arden Hills SDA Church in Highland this Sabbath (Dec. 9) for church, because my new ensemble, Loma Linda Vivace Violins, will be having their debut church performance. We played our very first performance at Loma Linda Academy for the string department winter concert yesterday, and this Sabbath will be our first time doing a church service. I'm conducting! Never thought I'd be a conductor. Even of 15 elementary and junior high school violinists.

Yesterday morning at 10 AM was our annual winter perfomance with all the group classes, including my Vivace and Book 1 groups. Then I took off for a 12:00 rehearsal and then performance of Messiah in Palm Springs, then back again to play in a string ensemble accompanying the choirs at Cal State San Bernardino. I made it through the day, but I think December for musicians is quite a bit like March for tax accountants.... Next Sunday I have to report to a Presbyterian church to help out with the music...in Palm Desert...at 7:30 AM.

Monotheism

It has been said by scholars that monotheism "emerged" gradually into more and more well-developed human civilizations, as a reflection and indication of a more highly organized political and social system.

It has also been said by "enlightened" scholars of academia today, in the 21st century, obviously the pinnacle of highly-developed societies, that monotheism is a myth, fit for "unenlightened" fools from the Dark Ages. Now we must believe that our origins are from gobbledygook, more disorder than even polytheistic religions teach.

Huh?

What I Am Thankful For

Praise ye the LORD. Praise God in his sanctuary: praise him in the firmament of his power.
Praise him for his mighty acts: praise him according to his excellent greatness.
Praise him with the sound of the trumpet: praise him with the psaltery and harp.
Praise him with the timbrel and dance: praise him with stringed instruments and organs.
Praise him upon the loud cymbals: praise him upon the high sounding cymbals.
Let every thing that hath breath praise the LORD. Praise ye the LORD.
Psalm 150

Just thought I'd throw that in because it's Thanksgiving today. So here's a short (perhaps trite, but true) list of what I am thankful for.

1. My parents, for always loving me and helping me with everything. Although they are across the country, I can always count on my mom for her Friday morning call, and my dad for his periodic email commentaries. I'm also thankful that I have somewhat of an extended family, not large, and scattered about, but I think of them often and pray for them.

2. My friends--I still can't believe I have so many wonderful friends, especially because of Advent HOPE. They are not only wonderful people who are loving and loyal, but a good influence as well. I've made a lot of good decisions the past few years because of their influence. Today I'm going to my friends Minnette and Ben's home for supper, along with a large group of our Bible study girls.

3. Especially my best friend Monica, who strangely enough doesn't seem to get tired of going to Target with me and putting up with my craziness and lack of coherent speech.

4. A big fluffy cat who loves to curl up on my lap when I'm reading. What more can you ask for?

5. A nice place to live in a terrific community, a little garden, nice things, plenty of food and clothing, etc. Sounds cheesy but you can't neglect that.

6. Living in a place where you can enjoy the mountains, ocean, desert, big city, gardens, museums, concerts, everything within about an hour's drive.

7. All my cute students who are growing up to be lovely people. They work very hard (most of them) and are developing great skills of concentration and intellect in the process. And most of their families are great to work with, too.

8. The sun. The atmosphere. The balance of oxygen and other elements. The angle and speed of the earth's rotation. The fact that no enormous comet has yet crashed into the Earth. Think about it.

9. Just open an anatomy book or any nature book and try to tell me that all this just happened. Show me someone who actually believes in evolution over millions of years, from single cells into frogs and monkeys, etc., and I'll show you someone who really does believe in myths and fairy tales!

10. Through prayer, I have been able to overcome some bad habits this year. (hope it sticks)

11. Again through prayer, I have been able to overcome some of the difficulties and depressing things I've dealt with for much of this year. (hope it sticks, too)

12. Sea otters, pandas, penguins and African pygmy falcons.

13. Target.

14. Wonderful music, like Mahler symphonies, Brahms chamber music, etc. etc. etc.

15. My violin, to play them on.

16. I'm halfway done learning the Glazunov violin concerto!

17. Down comforters.

18. Blogger with a large storage capacity because this could go on for a while.

19. Friends who love me enough to keep reading this far.

20. And for the most important thing: God, who loved the world so much that He gave us His only Son. I heard the best quote at church last Sabbath: "The love of God is like the Amazon River flowing down to water one daisy." (author unknown) Not only did God give us everything we have on earth, He created the entire universe, and we have no idea what wonders are out there for us to enjoy eventually. Also He gave us His Law, so we have not only a standard but a divine standard to live by, so we can learn to grow up in His character. And if that wasn't enough, He has done and is doing everything possible to avoid destroying us along with our sins, and that is to come personally to live with us, and even be killed by us, so He died instead of us, just simply because He loves us and also, oddly enough, probably even likes us, because He wants to be with us. Compare that with all the other world religions, of various gods killing each other and generating bastard children in soap-opera style, or forcing people to sacrifice to appease the volcano, or tantalizing people with paradise if you do good and eat your vegetables or all kinds of hell if you don't, or of frogs losing their tails and turning into monkeys and eventually your uncle Charlie. I've made my decision.

Steph the Violist!

I've been undertaking an interesting project lately--I've become a violist! No viola jokes, please! Yes, I'm battling the enormous beast (see picture).Thanks to my co-worker April's husband, I have a viola on loan. It's not too hard to play, although it's a little more tiring because it's huge. I can hardly reach the pegs! The hardest part, though, is reading the music. (In case you're interested, viola music is usually written in alto clef, which basically means that middle C is smack dab in the middle of the staff, rather than just under it as in treble clef or just above it as in bass clef. It's pretty much just used for violas. However, sometimes it changes to treble clef, too.) I'm starting to get the hang of it, though. I've been playing chamber music with my friends Jenn, David, Adrian and Jolene. In fact, we are having our first performance this Saturday night, at the Loma Linda Villa. My debut as a violist!

Capitalism

A great example of the gullibility of the American Consumer...

The other day I joined the usual crowd of thousands of worshippers in the Shrine to American Capitalism (Target) to buy a comfortable pair of headphones for my iPod for exercising. I found a pair I liked, and there was another pair of the same brand and style in white--it looked at least, for all the world, like the exact same headphones, just a different color. But the price tag for the white pair: $11.98; for the black: $4.99. I searched and searched the box for any hint of difference, but everything was exactly the same, word for word. I even hailed a young shrine priest in the traditional red-and-khaki garb and asked him if he knew of a difference besides the color--and price--and after investigating the boxes thoroughly as well, he reached the only obvious explanation for the discrepancy: the white headphones match the iPods. (iPod headphones are traditionally white. Of course.) Who could be caught listening to their iPod with black headphones?! Horrors!

I am the proud owner of a pair of black headphones. Which match my iPod just fine, thank you. (It's black.)

Panda

I've been having trouble adding pictures to my blog, but this time it worked...I had to add my favorite panda picture I took at the National Zoo. Pandas, along with racoons, penguins, and Asian small-clawed otters, are some of my favorite animals, and I will gladly make a pilgrimage across the country to see them (although I guess I can just go to San Diego, huh...) This is the superstar celebrity Tai Shan. All of us spectators were in agreement that the tree was a bit too thin for him. We got to watch him climb this tree and settle in for a nap--two hours later when we came by again, he was approximately in the same position.

Maryland and Washington DC

A couple of weeks ago I took a trip to Maryland and Washington DC to visit several friends, see fall colors (for the first time in 5 years...boy, did I miss them), and attend a National Symphony concert.

The first friends I visited were Kyle and Amy, who used to live in Redlands but moved to Frederick, MD this summer. Amy is a violinist and used to be my RSO (Redlands Symphony Orchestra) buddy. I visited with them and their 3-year-old daughter Madilyn for a few days, and we went to the National Aquarium in Baltimore, the zoo in DC, and Harper's Ferry.
(Yes, there was a glass wall between Madilyn and Amy and the sloth bear.)


On Sabbath I visited another Amy, with her husband Dan. This Amy is Monica's sister-in-law, who also happens to have been one of my closest friends during my freshman year of college at Southern. We went to the Spencerville SDA church, then to potluck (very similar to the potlucks we're used to here at Advent Hope), then for a walk around a small lake to see more fall colors.

Saturday night I took Amy and Kyle to the National Symphony concert at the Kennedy Center. I was very excited to go because they were playing a piece my friend James Lee composed, called Beyond Rivers of Vision. It was an exciting piece, filled with amazing orchestral colors, using every instrument you could imagine. I'd definitely have to listen to it several more times to catch all the intricacies of it, but it was easy to follow how the themes developed, especially in the first movement. The first two movements were powerful and driving, and the last movement ended in a beautiful, flowing gesture that kind of just disappears into eternity.

But the most exciting thing about James' piece to me was the ideas behind it, and how he had the courage to describe them all in the program notes. The piece is about rivers in the Bible (especially the Tigris) and the prophets associated with them (Daniel), also the great river that flows from the Throne of God (he mentions Rev. 22:1-5 in the program notes!). Here's a little quote from the notes: "It is, however, the deep and sincere importance of the vision received that takes precedence over the location of the particular river." He goes on the explain how the visions deal with eschatological subject matters, then says, "we must look beyond the rivers themselves and study the vision." Then he quotes Gen. 2:10-14; 3:7, 24; Daniel 10 (especially vs. 1-6); and Rev. 22:1-5. All of this for an audience of several thousand in a major concert hall in America's capitol city. Go James!! (I'd recommend reading the entire program notes.)

"Too Good To Be True"

I signed up to teach the Sabbath school lesson study this coming week at Advent Hope. I'm starting my study of it now, and I haven't even read through the whole week's lessons, but as I was thinking about Genesis 1 I came up with some thoughts I'm looking forward to sharing with my class. In fact, I couldn't wait, so I'm writing about it now. (For those of you who may be reading this and are planning on coming to my class next Sabbath, please don't give it away. Just kidding.)

The topic this week is Creation. A literal, 7-day creation. I was pretty excited to teach this lesson. First of all I'll probably qualify that I am a violinist, not a scientist, so I don't want to get deeply into the scientific evidence or lack thereof. That's really not what I'm interested in anyway in this particular lesson. What I'm more interested in is: how our knowledge about the character of God leads us to faith in real, literal creation.

There are a couple of great questions that arise with the study of the first chapter of Genesis. First of all, why do so many people, Christians as well as atheists, disbelieve the literal 7-day creation story? The answer, I guess (but what do I know what they're thinking) is that when you read it, it looks like a myth. It's written too simply. It looks too easy. It looks too good to be true. Compared to what scientists, as well as 6th grade Life Science students, know, God's account is no more believable looking than the story of the god who laid and egg which hatched and became the earth and sky.

We've been continually cautioned since childhood that "if something looks too good to be true, it probably is." The idea of a god or even God looking at some formless void and simply saying "Let there be..." and there is--in one day--is silliness. This is as far as it gets to the atheist. But to the Christian, it could be a struggle, because they believe other things in the Bible, but they can't believe in the Creation Story because it's simple and silly. So, how much of the Bible should they believe? Which parts? How do you know? Come to think of it, read Revelation 22, regarding the end, and if anything else seems too good to be true, that's certainly it!

To answer this, let's look at the answer to a seemingly unrelated question. As a musician, when I tackle a new piece of music to learn or teach my students, do I start with the hard parts in the middle, or do I start at the beginning, or what? What's difficult about this piece, what makes it hang together? If I start at the beginning I often get hung up on the first page, and it takes me a long time to get to the middle or the end of the piece. Sometimes I start at the end and work my way backwards, but it's often hard to get a real picture of the whole piece unless I find the central form.

Students of the Bible should look at this question, too. Here's my suggestion: Start in the middle. Let's say, the Gospels, also the prophets. Work your way out to the beginning and the end, Genesis 1 and Revelation 22. Why? Because it's the middle of the Bible where you really get to know God's character. The character of a God who would be willing to take on human, really human, characteristics and go through really human situations. There are no mythological fantasy ideas about a normal-looking man (we have no particular physical description of him) from a small town who worked in his father's carpenter shop and whose brothers made fun of him. No fantastic descriptions dazzle us when we read about how Mary rode on a donkey and went into labor so quickly that she had to make a makeshift delivery room out of an average barn. Nothing spectacular about a man who had enemies powerful enough to get him executed.

But there is something supernatural about a man who never made mistakes. Who loved the brothers who mocked him. Who was not afraid of what people think if he touched a leper. Who let his enemies kill him, even though he did nothing to deserve it. And who proved that death has no power over God's power.

There's also a lot to learn about a God who could influence a person to leave everything he had and move to a new land (Abraham), follow her mother-in-law out of respect for her family (Ruth), risk her life to beg the king for the deliverance of her people (Esther), preach for years warning the people about something called "rain" that would destroy the entire earth, then get into the boat (Noah), or cut the corner of his enemy's coat off with his sword when he was vulnerable, but not kill him (David).

When you start by studying God's character through the lives of His beloved people and through His own life on earth, then you can work your way out, and suddenly the stories become more believable, because you realize that "with God all things are possible" (Matt. 19:26). And nothing is too good to be true.

Talking Cats

Talking Cats by Scoob

OK

I changed the name of my blog, to reflect the novice-philosopher direction it's taking, and also partly as a direct homage to Dr. Koobs' book.

This morning I was contemplating the hymn "At The Cross," also known as "Alas! and did my Savior bleed."

"Alas! and did my Saviour bleed
And did my Sovereign die?
Would He devote that sacred head
For such a worm as I?"

I love Issac Watts' words, but somehow I'm really bothered by the refrain. Doesn't seem to fit.... Turns out the refrain wasn't written by Watts at all, but someone named Ralph E. Hudson. Why did he add that? "And now I am happy all the day." So cute, aww, so happy, let's all plant flowers and have an herbal tea party.

So, the subject of today's musing: If you're a Christian, are you really happy all the day?

Well, if you read the Psalms, you certainly aren't. If you read the Gospel record of Jesus' life, you certainly aren't (was Jesus a Christian?). "My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?" Psalm 22 pretty much covers it all.

Once upon a time, or two or three, some more recently than others, I have been led through a situation which did not turn out OK for me. I was not happy all the day. Some of the day? Sure. Do I believe that difficult situations can turn us closer to God if we chose that route? Yes. Will I be unhappy about it the rest of my life? Of course not. Am I the only Christian who has to go through this kind of thing? Definitely not. But did that situation turn out OK, and am I happy about it? No. Let's just say even the excellent cardiac team at LLUMC could not have done much to repair my heart. (In one case, long long ago, they were more of a hindrance than a help. But that's a different story.)

We are called to give 100% to God, as Elder Skeete said in the evangelistic series. It made me think, what do I still have to give up? We need to have 100% faith, not 95%. The devil sneaks through the last 5% like a cat sneaks through that door you opened just a crack and thought, he can't possibly get through there.

Sometimes I'm pretty good at qualifications for answers to prayer. I can get pretty creative. God cannot go against a person's free choice. He must answer prayers only as according to His divine will and it must fit with the divine law. This logically turned into The Ifs. The Unlesses. The Except-if's. The What-Abouts. They all seemed perfectly valid to me, and I think they still are.

But one day, after I was contemplating giving 100% to God, not 95%, I was impressed by this thought: "Don't think about The Ifs. Am I a God who is too small to deal with them? Do I need your help? If it's My will, it will happen, despite the Ifs, the Unlesses, and the What-Abouts. You have no idea how I can do this, but I can. So why don't you just deal with what you are responsible for, and let Me deal with the rest?"

One night I was lying in bed, not expecting to sleep for a while, while I felt extremely restless and the What-If's crawled into my ear (a la Shel Silverstein), but God intervened again and said again, "Have faith in Me. Can you trust Me, even if it has not turned out OK in the past? Do you believe I have to power to make it all OK in the end?"

I said Yes. I have no idea how a secular scientist or psychologist could explain the immediate calm and restfulness I felt right then. I drifted gently and quickly to sleep.

Here's the conclusion I've come to all along: No, I don't really believe that every Christian is always "happy all the day." But a Christian is someone who, at the end of the day, both he and God know that they can talk.

Continuing with Issac Watts...

"But drops of grief can ne'er repay
This debt of love I owe:
Here, Lord, I give myself to Thee,
'Tis all that I can do."

Maybe that's why Psalm 22 ends, "My praise shall be of Thee in the great congregation."

Other people's blogs

I've been reading other people's blogs. People I don't know. Just click the "Next Blog" button. I think it's random; different people every time. Maybe it's not such a great idea; you never know what you'll run into (some people are not too clean in their language). But it's interesting to see how people live. There are a lot of pathetic people out there. Most of the blogs I've seen are written by single women like me in their 20s and 30s, but their contents include: 1) problems with men, 2) how many tequila shots they drank last night, 3) despair over men, or 4) how many tequila shots are required to get a guy to sleep with them. Well, I'd have to say it makes all of my problems look fairly tame, almost insignificant. Makes you understand what people share (apparently the despair is not such an uncommon phenomenon), and what they don't need to if they choose not to (the drinking and bed-hopping part. Why bother?)

Meanwhile, I guess I'll just go to bed and read Early Writings. Highly recommended.

I'm still trying to decide whether or not to go to GYC--anybody want to room with me??

Prayer request, part II

Please pray for my friend Sarah and her family; she lost her mother to pancreatic cancer this morning.

Tree

Here is the recovery of the mulberry tree in my front yard. The first picture was taken in April, and I bemoaned the loss of my lovely tree for weeks. That is, until I realized what a crazy tree this is. The second picture was taken this week, after I trimmed quite a few branches which were hanging into the sidewalk and down to the ground.

Surprised!

OK, I can be a bit dense sometimes...

Last Monday was my birthday, which was not a special birthday in terms of years (the big 2-5 or 3-0 or whatever), but it was special in that it fell on Labor Day Monday, a holiday (I sometimes say it's called Labor Day because...my mom was in labor?), which means that for the next several years it will be on a weekday again, not much fun for celebrating. So a few friends and I planned a day off to go explore LA (including two of my co-workers who live there). Since we had a whole fun day planned, the idea of another party never crossed my mind.

So Sunday, the day before, Monica and Shannon and I ran some errands--the usual Costco etc., where they bought the usual groceries, including chips and bags of celery, broccoli, baby carrots, and fruit each as big as my cat (those who have met my cat know how large this is). Monica insisted that she liked to bring vegetables for lunch at work, although I kept saying as we were checking out, "Wow, with all these fruits and veggies and chips and dips it looks like we're having a party!" At that point I guess Monica insisted I had found out what they were planning, but guess what, I had no idea.

Back at Shannon's house, her backyard pool was looking extremely inviting in the 100+ degree heat, but she oddly didn't want us to come over and swim because she had "stuff to do in the afternoon." What a hard-working young lady! So Monica and I, inspired by her industrious spirit, spent the rest of the afternoon taking care of the important business of watching dumb videos in the Internet (www.dumbvideos.com, the cat video on the first page is great!) and driving halfway to Palm Springs because we saw a cloud that looked like it was raining there.

Shannon had said earlier that day that we were invited to her house for supper later, so fortunately I decided to change out of my shorts and tanktop to pants and a shirt. We went to Shannon's house and the food she set out didn't look like normal dinner, more like a party. I still had no idea until a bunch of my friends jumped out from behind the kitchen counter and yelled, "Surprise!" yes, I was surprised. I'm sooooo blessed to have so many wonderful friends around here! I'm so thankful for Advent Hope.

It's amazing how someone can go grocery shopping for their own surprise party and have no idea.

By the way, Monday was lots of fun, too. Maybe I'll post some pictures of both events when I get some good ones (not of me being surprised...)

Letter to the editor

I did something novel today--I wrote my first letter to the editor! I was reading my latest issue of Smithsonian Magazine, as is my tradition, and I read a very interesting article about native cannibals in New Guinea. The reporter ventured into an extremely remote place to visit a tribe--he was the first light-skinned person they've ever seen there. All others were far too scared to go into that territory. This is one of the only existing cannabalistic tribes left. Read the whole story in the Sept. 2006 issue of Smithsonian.

The part that struck me and inspired me to write the letter was where the people (the Korowai) told of "a powerful spirit, named Ginol, who created the present world after having destroyed the previous four...." (vaguely reminiscent of the Flood) The tradition continues, "white-skinned ghost-demons will one day invade Korowai land. Once the laleo [what they call the white-skinned ones] arrive, Ginol will obliterate this fifth world. The land will split apart, there will be fire and thunder, and mountains will drop from the sky. This world will shatter, and a new one will take its place." Another part of the article quotes a Dutch missionary who declined to penetrate the Korowai land after he heard the story that "'a very powerful mountain god warned the Korowai that their world would be destroyed by an earthquake if outsiders came into their land to change their customs.'"

Here's the letter I emailed to the editor:

It's amazing that the remote Korowai people, who have never had contact with Western people, much less Christian missionaries, could have in their religious tradition a prophecy that a powerful god would cause fire, thunder, and land to split apart and end the earth when outsiders with other traditions come to their land. Have they really never read the apocalyptic vision in Revelation 16:18-20--"and there were noises and thunderings and lightnings; and there was a great earthquake, such a mighty and great earthquake as had not occured since men were on the earth....Then every island fled away, and the mountains were not found"--along with Matthew 24:14--"And this gospel of the kingdom will be preached in all the world as a witness to all the nations, and then the end will come"?


I'm sure it won't be published. Smithsonian is a scientific institution, very proud of its athiestic positions and evolutionary teachings. But maybe it would be interesting from an anthropological point of view. Probably not, though--Satan works hard to intercept any light of truth from institutions such as that. But God is more powerful. Pray that the Gospel really will be preached to all nations soon.

Quote for the day

Just wanted to share a beautiful quote today. I hope whoever reads this will find as much comfort in sorrow as I have.

"The Saviour longs to give us a greater blessing than we ask; and He delays the answer to our request that He may show us the evil of our own hearts, and our deep need of His grace. He desires us to renounce the selfishness that leads us to seek Him. Confessing our helplessness and bitter need, we are to trust ourselves wholly to His love." Ellen G. White, The Desire of Ages, p. 200

P.S. If you are ever sad about anything, open up pretty much any page EGW has written and you will find God's comfort more beautifully described than you could ever even dream up yourself.

Music

Sometimes I wonder why I play the violin.

Most people have useful jobs, such as a doctor or a bricklayer or a mailman or salesman or air conditioner repairman.

But what is the point of playing a musical instrument?

If I were a singer, people would remember the words to my songs, and if they were good words, they could remember a good message from them. But my music has no words, therefore no meaning, good or bad.

But there is absolutely no purpose for playing a musical instrument.
Which is exactly why I do it.

Evolutionists can think up purposes for so many things on Earth: photosynthesis, plate tectonics, hydrogen, DNA, and so on. But they often get hung up on music. The human ear is profoundly complex--years of study cannot fully give a comprehension of exactly how sound waves are transformed into signals in the brain which are interpreted as meaningful sounds. Evolutionists can make a case for the sociological advantage of communication in verbal language. But what about musical sounds, which do not have any symbolic meaning and cannot be identified with any other sense?

I can't think, off the top of my head, of anything else on earth that does not have any other meaning through any other sense besides instrumental music. I suppose you could count the kind of gas that you can only smell and not see or feel (although sophisticated devices may be able to measure their weight). But most objects can be perceived through a combination of senses--sight, touch, smell. Spoken words are only perceived through the ear, but they symbolize things that can be perceived some other way: if I say "chair" you would have the sensual experience of an object with legs and a platform to sit on, perhaps with a smooth or soft feel, and the smell of leather or rubber. And concepts such as "kindness" are equated with physical actions and physical objects, such as giving a glass of water to a thirsty enemy.

If you are aquainted with music, you understand what I mean by the emotional, even physical, response to a certain arrangement of harmonies--that the stimulus is communicating something, but not something clearly defined such as a "chair" or "strawberry" or even "kindness" or "hope." The communication draws us to something unknown.

"Physical pleasures are subdivided into two types. First there are those which fill the whole organism with a conscious sense of enjoyment...as when we eat and drink.... However, there are also pleasures which satisfy no organic need, and relieve no previous discomfort. They merely act, in a mysterious but quite unmistakable way, directly on our senses....Such is the pleasure of music." (Thomas More, Utopia)

C.S. Lewis describes this well in Mere Christianity: "Creatures are not born with desires unless satisfaction for those desires exists....If I find in myself a desire which no experience in this world can satisfy, the most probably explanation is that I was made for another world."

In The Great Divorce, Lewis describes an angelic citizen of Heaven talking with a painter visiting there: "'When you painted on earth...it was because you caught glimpses of Heaven in the earthly landscape. The success of your painting was that it enabled others to see the glimpses too...Light itself was your first love; you loved paint only as a means of telling about light.'"

If the visual arts exist to give humans glimpses of light through what can be seen and felt with several senses (and what can at least attempt to be explained through naturalistic theory), how much more can music, otherwise completely useless as it is, give us a glimpse of something even less humanly explainable?

Prayer request

To all my friends who like to pray for prayer requests, I have a personal request: I just found out that they changed the rehearsal schedule for the Redlands Symphony Orchestra this year to have Friday night rehearsals. The RSO is the only orchestra I play with anymore and one of the last ones to not have any Friday night or Saturday services; I used to play with the San Bernardino Symphony but I let that one go because they have Saturday afternoon rehearsals. Those who know me know how much I love playing in orchestra; music is my career and my passion, and although I get most of my income from teaching, playing in orchestra is one of my favorite things to do. I've played in orchestras every year since fifth grade, and it's been the foundational thing in my musical life. I can't forsee any orchestras not having any Sabbath conflicts. Satan is working overtime on God's people who "keep the commandments of God" (Rev. 14:12), especially the overlooked fourth commandment. I know I'm not alone in these kinds of struggles--my recent study of Daniel 9 taught me that we ought to pray for our people, for all believers, because we are all in this together. May God strengthen us for whatever conflicts we have ahead of us in our communal struggle to live according to God's commandments.

July 31, 2006

It is RAINING IN SOUTHERN CALIFORNIA. It's July. Not just a little drizzle that evaporates before it hits the ground, but real rain--all morning. This is weird. Of course, it's also been about 115 degrees the last week or so.

The earth is going crazy. Everybody come to Southwest Youth Conference. www.swyouthconference.org

Strange places for a cat

You would think that in a small apartment a large cat would have fewer places to get comfortable. Then you remember what a cat is.

A parable

For the customs of the peoples are futile; for one cuts a tree from the forest, the work of the hands of the workman, with the ax. They are upright, like a palm tree, and they cannot speak; they must be carried, because they cannot go by themselves. Do not be afraid of them, for they cannot do evil, nor can they do any good. Thus you shall say to them: "The gods that have not made the heavens and the earth shall perish from the earth and from under these heavens."Jeremiah 10:3, 5, 11

We love him, because he first loved us. 1 John 4:19


Once there was a young lady who fell in love with a young man. She fell in love with him because he was the man of her dreams. He was everything she could have wanted. Since she was a little girl and once had been rescued from an uncomfortable situation in a public park by a friendly policeman who happened to be nearby, she had always wanted to marry a policeman. When she became a teenager, she and her girlfriends would talk about their future marriages, and she would envision exactly what she wanted in a man. She had a mental picture of an extremely tall man, with brilliant platinum blonde hair, and light blue eyes. He would be gentle and kind, and loved horseback riding and reading books about ancient history, just like her daddy did. He would sing in the church choir, his favorite food was peanut butter jelly sandwiches, and--even though she didn't admit this to her girlfriends--he would have a really odd, loud laugh like her older brother.

When this young lady went to college, her friends started looking for husbands, but she didn't know if she would ever find a gentleman who was like what she wanted. After all, she was kind of particular...But one day, she went to choir rehearsal, and as the director told a silly joke she was startled to hear a loud and rather annoying laugh coming from the back of the classroom. Her eyes grew big when she turned to find a tall, platinum blonde boy with pale blue eyes. On the way out of class, she made an effort to leave the classroom with him, and out of courtesy introduced herself and asked his name and what he was studying.

"Law enforcement," he said.

Since it was lunchtime, she invited him to join her with her friends at the cafeteria. He ate nothing but two peanut butter jelly sandwiches. As the conversation progressed, it was discovered that his favorite hobbies were horseback riding and reading books about ancient history. She was happy; she had found her man.

Unfortunately, the story doesn't end there. Or rather...it does. The unhappy ending for the young woman is that this gentleman had absolutely no interest in her. In fact, a few months later he was seen holding hands with another girl from Finland.

There was also another young man, 21 years old, who lived in a large metropolitan area. He had just reached the age where he could drink legally, and was definitely taking advantage of that opportunity to barhop with his older friends. He was very attractive and learned that bars were excellent places to find women who were more drunk than he, and were perfectly willing to go home with him. In his large apartment (which his parents paid for), his living room was transformed into a home theater. He went to school every day to become a banker, and was expecting to do extremely well financially. He lived alone, but he was not often lonely, because as soon as he came home from school, he would take a drink, watch TV, and head out with his friends to the bar. It was fun, he was happy; he had found his life.

Does the young man's story end there? Probably not. Because the young woman in love and the young man who loved his life both faced the same problem--That which they loved did not return their love. The people in Jeremiah's time, in ancient days, longed for the idols of the surrounding nations; gods of wood and stone. They found happiness in the symbols they worshipped. But the gods did not love them in return, so all of their happiness was completely useless. Today, people's devotions might be directed to somewhat different types of idols--pleasures, entertainment, ambitions for riches and fame. But no matter how much happiness these things may bring us at the time they are received, they will not love us in return. And if they don't return our love, our devotion is useless.

God alone has given us a promise that cannot be broken. "The LORD hath appeared of old unto me, [saying], Yea, I have loved thee with an everlasting love: therefore with lovingkindness have I drawn thee." (Jer. 31:3) "For God so loved the world...." (John 3:16) We can be assured that this is one relationship where our love can be returned. That's the only useful kind of devotion in the universe.