Run Chicken, Run!

I'm at my aunt and uncle's house in the country this week. It's an absolutely gorgeous house filled with antiques and my aunt's art works. It's pretty much a vacation. Located on about 10 acres with a pond and weeping willows and garden after garden, it's also home to some goats (for goats milk) and chickens, and several dogs and cats. Let me lay this out there, I pretty much hate chickens. I like eggs and fried chicken and any chicken dish you can imagine. I detest, nay, loathe, live chickens.

Far be it from me to disturb any chicken for fear they might claw my eyes out. Yet disturb I had to otherwise the mean ol' fox in the field might eat them or that chops-licken' raccoon down by the pond. So being the good niece that I am and fulfilling my house-sitting/farmhand responsibilities I headed back out to the barn to round me up some chickens. I would have left them alone to sleep (or die) in peace (unless they're dying) but no, cousin Josh thought it most imperative that the chicken coop contain all chickens. Forget that I might get my eyes CLAWED OUT! Forget that I might never get to see again! Forget that no chicken is important enough to risk physical harm! Nope, come hell or high-water, them chickens was going in th'coop.

Armed with nothing but my trusty dog Murphy (chuckle, yeah, not feeling the whole trusty part with a name like Murphy, but you never know) and a huge dose of courage, I strutted into that barn like a Banty rooster, sized up a hen, and squinting through my right eye (hey, if I'm going to lose them to a flippin' chicken, I'm not going down with eyes wide open), I reached out and hoped for the best. Well, if hell hath no fury like a woman scorned, I'd hate to see what the analogy is for a disgruntled layer. That hen let loose like her tail was on fire. Feathers flew, hay flew, and squawking like you've never heard before. You would have thought I was chasing her with a frying pan the way she let off.

Chickens 1, Sarah 0

There were 3 hens left on the fence so I gathered my wits and headed for the second one. By the way, Murphy, my fearless companion, yeah, not so fearless. He was huddled behind some hay bales watching me with an amused expression on his black curly face as if to say, "well, I never said I'd help!" And the goats! Oh those Alpines, I knew they were mocking me! They were all lined up in a row to watch the action. I'm surprised the peacocks weren't around hooting and hollering. Well, it's better than having a human audience..... I think.

The next chicken snatching fared as well as the first, only this time all the chickens left the fence and scattered throughout the barn. Great, now my chicken record's as good as my P-I-G record against my 11 year old brother! Just then my little eye spied some other, more sleepy looking, victims in the goat pen. At this point I was bound and determined that at least one chicken was going to get in that coop if it was the last thing I did. So I snuck into that goat pen, along the wall, and over to the corner where my last chances at redemption dozed peacefully (or so I thought). If I had snuck up behind them and set of a fog-horn it wouldn't have been any different. This time I held on longer and did my best to secure that blasted chicken in the crook of my arm (apparently that's what you're supposed to do). But apparently the tighter you cling to that chicken, the more frantic it becomes, and this time ALL the chickens outside of the coop, along with the one previously held in my arms, ran either all through the barn or outside into the night. And Murphy chased them. And I stood there, wounded and dejected. And the goats laughed.

Apparently herding chickens doesn't work as well. Tomorrow night, if that chicken doesn't make it's coop-curfew, well, say hello to Mr. Fox and Mr. Raccoon, they've an outstanding invitation to dinner.

Happily mistaken!

Attitudes are not to be relied upon. Prayer changes attitudes. Thus prayer is to be relied upon.

Earlier I discussed the matter of my dysfunctional family and our dysfunctional Christmas gathering. Funny thing, before I went to our dysfunctional celebration, I gave it up to Christ and said "Do with it what you will, I, however, will not enter that house bearing anything but a Christ-like attitude and mentality." Turns out it was one of the best, if not the best family Christmas gathering I have ever attended. It was hard to enter the house with my "I love my family because Christ loves my family" mentality but as I had given it over to the Lord already I washed my hands of the whole matter and decided to celebrate at any costs. (thanks to some orange juice and champagne, it was a heck of a lot easier than I thought! .... ok, kidding, really. (well, not tooo "really." but yeah, nevermind))

Also as it turns out, my uncle has a 1959 Austin Healey "Bugeyed" Sprite. You can imagine how we got along after I told him about my 1976 MG-B! If I bought that car just for the look and appreciation on my uncle's face for that one day, it was worth it. He was literally stunned out of his socks and throughout the entire time, my uncle, my esteemed uncle, sought me out to talk about cars. He even volunteered to wash and wax it if I brought it over. He's so excited to go to Mid-Ohio Vintage car races with our cars (tee hee, this is so great) and... well, I just can't get over how surprised and excited he was. Plus he let me ride in the Sprite with my cousin Michael at the helm, who had never even driven the car before. My cousin Michael and I have never spoken more than ohh... 5 sentences between ourselves and Saturday, we chatted the whole afternoon! Talked about his new restaurant, his wife's car, talked about motorcycles, OSU, you name it. As for my aunts... well, next time I'll bring some exotic dish and we can talk about cooking and decorating and such. Anyway, the power of prayer is not to be underestimated. (and if you have a spare vintage car handy, that helps too).

So much for being a "British" car.

So I'm ranting and as soon as I post this, it will (ok, might) be over. But still....

http://www.latimes.com/business/la-fi-chickasaw10dec10,0,7483753.story?page=1

So I'll finally get the "new" MGF and maybe the MGR but that's not the point. Point is: I don't care that they made MGs in the U.S 30 years ago, I care that now we can no longer call it a British car. It's like making tea in China and then moving the factory to South America with African investors and calling it "Chinese Tea." Or making Belgian chocolates and then moving the entire factory over to....Afghanistan and merging with Mongolian investors and calling the chocolate, "Belgian Chocolate." The recipe may still be the same but HELLO, it's no longer true Chinese tea or Belgian Chocolate. EVERYONE knows you have to go to the original country to get the valid object. *sob* it's just not the same.... *another sob* I don't want everyone else to have the same car.....*pounds the desk* I want to be unique...I want to be original.......What? Yes I'm 23! 5 year old? Excuse me? Tantrum? I beg to differ, it's called being passionate, and yes, the floor of my office is just fine. SO THERE!

And yet another ramification for the Western Expansion. Isn't that just great.

The Solution

Good gracious! So I've been ranting for several posts (2) that I'm never going to go past the "good" emotion to ecstatic or tragic. After talking to a good friend of mine I realized that that's not important. What is important is this: I must make the most of this "good" time that I have. To let it go by without utilizing this peaceful time would be a waste. This is the time to read and delve into the Word. This is the time to fill myself up on the knowledge of Him. If I'm going to be in a "good" time then I'm certainly going to make the most of it.

Solution: For period of "easy times" use every moment and all spare time to "brush up" or explore the heart of God from all aspects and learn as much as possible while I can.

Meet me here, dear heart.

Nota Bene: I love most movies. Not all movies but most movies. Not silly chick-flicks or horror/gory movies and not romantic comedies but the movies where deep inside you emotions are affected by the circumstances and characters in that movie. The emotions that the world does not see and you yourself might not know what they are but they are moved. Be it action/adventure, drama, or even comedy. Do not discredit emotions because they might react to a movie. Do not scoff but know this: whoever created that movie and whoever had the idea for that movie knew those emotions you are feeling. That's my take on it. I will be referencing to many a movie character in this post, if you're one to jest and poke fun then this post is not for you to read. Thank you.

It's come to this: I have resigned myself to the knowledge that I will most likely lead a peaceful and harmonious life for the next 60+ years (or longer, depending on if they find that stinkin' Fountain of Youth... gosh Cortez! *chuckle*). For many people that would be a desire met. How many people long for a peaceful life in harmony with the rest of mankind? And I take it for granted. Strife, I do not ask for but possibly tragedy and most definitely adventure and passion. I only ask that I feel. I want to know that I can feel.

I recently took a personality test for church and basically I'm personality-less. Well, not true, but the results came back that I had unclear goals in life and thus my personality at this time cannot be determined. Well, my core personality that is, my outer mask is one of "Adviser." Whoopdy Doo. It's true though, I do have unclear goals. In fact, I wonder if my goals (other than loving and following my Lord which is definitely the prime goal of my life) even exist. I would even go so far as to say that in lieu of the fact I do not have any goals that in and of itself is a reflection of the lack of emotion within me. Follow? Right, probably not, but pretend you do.

Point is: Am I never to experience a Great Adventure and a real passion for something? (Before I go to far, realize that I'm not asking for tragedy and a harsh life, just adventure and passion and not passion as the world would think) I used to think that I was a mistake. Not a pregnancy mistake but that God is preparing for the Rapture and realized that little curly-haired me still had yet to grace the Earth with her presence (that's right, grace you all with my wonderful presence...yup, you heard me) and so he threw me in right quick before the end times. Now I know those are only lies from the enemy of our souls but it's still hard not to wonder why I am here now. Why not 700 years ago? Why not 100 years ago? (nota bene due: Yes, I know how hard it was back then, I happen to know a bit about history so back up off it) Why now? Why in the U.S? Why in Ohio (Well, obviously God is a Buckeye...)

If I am created uniquely to love the Lord my God with all my heart, soul, and strength, and if I am created the way I am, with these desires for adventure and passion, then is there a reason for this cubicle existence? Point is: Will I ever be rescued like Elizabeth in "Pirates of the Caribbean," and Jessica in "Man from Snowy River"? Will I ever sob like Christian in "Moulin Rouge"? Will there be a daring mission where I am needed? Will I ever risk my life to save another's as Maj. Winters does in "Band of Brothers"? Will I ever really care about something? Am I not focused on the Lord enough? Have I skipped over something basic in Christianity 101? Is it because I live in the U.S? Or is it a matter of faith? It could very well be that I must wait. All that is needed is a promise that yes, I will partake in a great adventure and will know someday what it is to be passionate about something. (I feel a lot better now that I wrote this all down, not so... panicky now)

I love how soundtracks and certain songs pluck at your heartstrings. I've been listening a lot to the "Pirates of the Caribbean" and "Last of the Mohicans" soundtrack along with "Star Wars," "Man from Snowy River," "Rhapsody in Blue," and "Saving Private Ryan." Throw in some more instrumental soundtracks and my heart is all over the place. Then I start looking over pictures of England and France and next thing you know, I"m thinking "Ok Lord, what about the part where I'm supposed to be a young Lady Wakefield cantering all over the countryside?" Oh yeah, and "Lord... what the heck am I doing in Ohio? Shouldn't I be winning cross-country event or travelling around on a small yacht, living off the ocean? What about the part where I help find a historical treasure? Remember that life I'm supposed to save in that foreign land? What about where I'm sitting on the patio of a small villa overlooking the clear waters of an Alpine lake?..... Um, Lord...?"

And that's what starts a post like this one.

The Agony of Earth

Do you ever watch a movie and it so stirs you that you cannot watch it again for several months?

I do. I’ll watch a movie and it will break my heart in a way that I cannot express. The girl deep inside of me will cry out and say, “That’s supposed to be me!” It’s a very rare movie that will have that effect on me but when it happens, it’s a most severe stab to the heart. There is never a greater blow to the heart than the one that affects the soul. The girl that I really am, the perfect girl inside who I really would be without the Fall, cries out because she knows that character. She says, “Yes, that is me, that is who I should have been!” Don’t get me wrong, I know I’m now and I am who I am because that is who I've been created to be but the Fall’s effects are still being felt. Wouldn’t we all be different (drastically) had the Fall never happened? I digress. The point is not the Fall but the person you are deep within that has remained unaffected by the Fall and that is your true person, your Name.

Recall that in heaven we will all be given our True name. I maintain that there is part of me that knows my True name and when it comes across examples of it in this world, my soul leaps out with that recognition. When that happens I am not sure of how I should handle it. I just know that I cannot go near whatever it was that my soul knew because of the heartbreak that ensues. The object that my soul recognizes as part of my Name nearly pierces my soul and that area is so tender that to go near it again would only cause more heartbreak. Certain music, books, movies, and interactions cause that injury. The injury, besides being composed of heart-wrenching pain, also feels like a kick to the stomach. The days after said event usually are filled with a certain amount of grief, despair, and a touch of depression. My heart, interestingly enough, does feel a great amount of joy in the recognition of a part of its Name but the aftertaste of reality sets in not soon after.

Heaven will be that Name. I’ve no doubt now that Heaven will be that which fulfills my soul’s thirst for a Name. If ever I wanted to be a character in a movie, the agony that my soul feels by that desire will be met by Heaven. That is where I will be whole, that is where I will be my Name, I will be the true Sarah.

John Eldredge’s book Wild at Heart, which should be read by every human, talks in great detail about the moments here on Earth that are glimpses of heaven and our true Names. Nostalgia is a great example, i.e. “The Good Ol’ Days,” another example would be when hiking out in the countryside and the view just takes your breath away. Music and lyrics that “speak” to you, books where your soul says, “Yes, I know that! Art, be it in any form, that causes your heart to ache even just a bit are tastes of what Heaven will be. Heaven is not The Land of Fulfillment of our every “worldly” desire nor is it the land of eternal harp playing (or attempting, for some of us). If our soul reacts towards those particular moments here on Earth when it recognizes its true name, can we not acknowledge that He Who created us will not deny us our true identity when we are reunited with Him? Would the Bridegroom deny anything His Bride? If He surrendered His very life so that we might be reunited with Him for eternity, if He has gone through those great lengths even to death, to save us, do you honestly believe He would relegate us to anything less than complete unity with our Truthful names?

That is what my soul must realize in order to continue on past the brutal agony when it cannot be joined with its Name in this life. The pain is much to “personal” to bear without the promise of eternity as my Name. The simple things that speak to my soul i.e. the desire to be the beauty to be rescued, the desire to share in a great adventure, and the desire to be desired, are just too great to be ignored. Yet I cannot help but resign myself to the knowledge that those desires will not be met during my time on this Earth. Those desires were created for a reason, they are there because they are who I am, but they will not be met now. And that is why my hope rests in He Who created me. Those are the treasures I look forward to, nay, desperately look forward to, enjoying.