Hostess Juliet

Jules Grun, "The Dinner Party"

I am continually trying to generate and stir up within myself (or rather pray for God to set and light the embers within myself) regarding hospitality and generosity. Last night at church, in talking to the pastor's daughter and mother, I discovered that it might be a bit troublesome for his 9-months pregnant wife to get the home ready for a dinner party on Friday night for newcomers to the church. They are renovating the house in preparation for the new baby, painting and making the basement inhabitable.

I knew right away that I ought to, and wanted to, volunteer my home for the occasion. But it took a lot of convincing for me to offer, and I am very glad that I did. But now I have to prepare. While I have had friends over, parties of large quantities of people, little girls' tea parties, and small groups over for dinner and festivities, never have I yet had a true, mature, adult, responsible dinner party. I mean....the pastors of my church and the new people! At least I don't have to cook much. I will probably do something, and provide drinks, ice cream, salad, pizza, etc. But I am at once scared and excited! Help me, Lord! At least I have friends that can help me, I am sure. 

Sonnets For Your Consideration

Dear, sweet Central California

Cowgirl-me

Maple-hued leather boots, soft, broken, scuffed

Hugs my arch with familiar, welcomed ease

Sends senses home to dusty, warm, and roughed

Yet beauteous and bountiful valleys.

The San Joaquin Valley is my mother;

She beckons through her fruitful, sun-kissed hearth

Bids me: “Tend, care, and cherish no other;

Heed sweet nurture in your here-cradled birth.”

Dear boots have travelled far with me from home.

Now my mark of styled art and flair, though

Shine with goodly ethos where I was grown

Dust of Valley fills my City’s hollow

Cowgirl in me, never stop your nudging;

City-girl-me needs meek, humble judging. 

At Harvard Square Starbucks where I wrote this Sonnet; Mommy was sitting behind me

A Sonnet from Cambridge

Show me inklings, Father, of what will come

As I sit amidst great minds at Harvard.

My worth, far more than name and status’ sum,

Stepping, reaching up, You draw me heav’n-ward.

Your plans for me are wise, faithful and true.

I trust, abide in You implicitly.

Regardless where I end, what I accrue,

You’re my harbor of true felicity.

Your ways are greater, thoughts are higher still

Than imagination could dream to pray.

Your Will pre-purposed shall my hands fulfill,

And mind speak forth what burden you convey

Spirit, I faint answer your commission

Come, breathe life through holy intercession!

-- (Based on Jeremiah 29:11, John 15:4, Isaiah 55:9, Ephesians 2:10, Romans 8:27)

Post-Thanksgiving Thankfulness

It’s Sunday morning, and I flew back from California Friday night. As soon as I walked in the door, my friend from church came to pick me up for a Thanksgiving Part II celebration, which was a time dedicated to the “thankfulness” part of the holiday. We sat around the living room and silently recalled what we have to thank God for, and then prayed aloud, thanking God for those provisions of a physical, object, or emotional nature. It was precious, and the prayers were deep and true and real. So many gifts, so many personalities, so many personal relationships with God were present in that place. Lovely.

In the beginning when we were silently musing, someone opened the front door and stepped in, and quickly said, “Oh, wrong house.” He must have thought we were CRAZY—all 10 of us sitting silently in a circle in a candlelit living room. Ha. Oh well, I choose to think and hope that maybe he saw angels in our midst, or at least a glow of holiness and love as God’s saints, his sons and daughters, called upon His name in thanks and prayer.

A Bright Star

Last night I watched the movie “Bright Star” in its entirety. I had sort-of watched it before but never from start to finish. It is a truly immensely romantic movie, in all of its subtleties. It centers on the friendship and love of John Keats and Fanny Brawne. Keats is mild and diffident in person, but the small intimacies and romantic fancies that he and Fanny share are so alive and endearing. I especially love how she shows her care for him, by sewing a pillow-slip for Keats’ brothers funeral encasement, and for bringing him “perfect” cookies in a “perfect” casing while young Keats is still ailing. She mends his threadbare jackets. He says at one point in the film,

Write me ever so few lines and tell me you will never forever be less kind to me than yesterday. You dazzled me.

I think that this movie speaks to me in large part because my primary love language is acts of service, and that element of their relationship was so strong, at least on Fanny’s part. That is how she showed her care and concern. It was a wonderful movie; and the latest in my literary life immersion which I have delved into lately.

It started by reading Frankenstein, then finishing Til We Have Faces, and Wuthering Heights. I am now reading Jane Eyre again. Then I need to finish The Idiot and The Picture of Dorian Gray. I am also going to read The Christmas Carol with a friend, an second annual tradition. I find, however, that whenever I re-read a favorite book, it all floods back to me and I remember the detail that I had thought I forgot. I also tend to enjoy the book less the second time. I guess it is because I am more circumspect about it- at least that was the case with Wuthering Heights.

I have also been writing a sonnet-a-day, or trying to get to that prolific level. The problem is that I don’t know how to improve something as subjective as poetry. I need advice on that end, so if you have any, or any articles to point me to, please do so! I will post one sonnet here for your investigation and analysis. And perhaps more in the future as seems appropriate to post.

Most worthwhile past time

Growing up I read voraciously. I read every book at the house and always wanted more. I loved getting a new book that I had carefully selected. I loved "sustained silent reading" in public schools-- it was actually called by that whole title. I was so into my books that I would laugh out loud and then be embarrassed because everyone looked at me. I read and was so pleased to finish each and every book. But I didn't read many classics. It was mostly Christian fiction, historical fiction, and award winning books for school.

My mind, imagination, and power of argument and writing jumped immeasurably during that period. I think that I can credit that activity with my love for learning and ideas. Of course, God has all credit for any good thing in me, but I do think that reading has greatly led to my strength of mind.

So headed into 2011, I have decided that my resolution will be to read only classic literature and fiction. No more "how to" type books or books "about" Christianity and God. Instead, I will read the Bible text itself or a really study-focused Bible Study for my small group. And plenty of fiction, which is where the mind really takes off and applies the situations and ironies and hypocrisies and lessons to life and relationships.

To this end, I downloaded--for free!-- Frankenstein, Wuthering Heights, The Portrait of a Lady, Anna Karenina, and The Idiot. I already finished Frankenstein, which had some amazing things to say about friendship and responsibility and nobility of character and sacrifice. I will post some quotes from it soon.

I am working on Les Miserables STILL and need to finish that next. Please ask me about it. I need to finish. It is great, but I am at a standstill. That shall occupy me this weekend, I think.

Looking forward to updating you all soon. Please let me know any recommendations you have for good fiction that edifies the mind and soul.