With Arms High and Heart Abandoned

If you have been following my blog at all or if you know me personally, then you know that this past December when I graduated college, by God’s awesome provision, I got a job right off the bat. At that point, I knew that I needed to make giving back to God in tithe a habit in my life... and as soon as possible. This post goes out to all of the readers of this blog who, like me, have struggled with the whole tithing issue and the guilt that always seems to go along with it. This is what I learned after a month of faithful tithing.

As I mentioned, I got a job right as I graduated college, so I figured that was as good a time as any to start trying to fulfill God’s command to tithe of whatever I make. In high school and college I really struggled with how to tithe because I didn’t have a real job or a steady income. However, since that situation changed with my college graduation,  I really, really, really wanted to learn how to give financially out of a generous heart and not out of a sense of obligation or guilt. Having gone to a conservative Christian college  for my undergrad, I was used to being  guilt-tripped in order to produce the type of behavior others wanted out of me. I was very used to feeling like whatever I was doing in my Christian life was not enough. If I wasn’t burned out spiritually, emotionally, and physically, it wasn’t enough. Now, whether my interpretation of what I was being taught at this school was accurate or not, I take full responsibility for the fact that I pushed myself farther and farther away from God during those years and became more and more removed from feeling the joy of serving him with a generous heart.

During this same time period just after I graduated, and like I wrote about in my last post, I was dealing with a lot of fear and worry regarding my future. For the past almost 20 years of my life, I have always known what I was going to be doing the next year: go to school and continue my education. Now all of a sudden, I was entering real life: work, marriage, figuring out how to afford to pay adult bills, the possibility of graduate school in the future and all the effort and financial resources that would entail, how to be the world’s definition of “successful”... you name it and I worried about it! My life was no longer being dictated to me! I could do whatever I wanted and that was exactly what I DIDN’T want. However, at the point I wrote my last blog post, I had come to the decision that, even though I wasn’t making the amount of money I felt was “successful,” nor did I know exactly what the future held other than marrying my wonderful fiancé and starting a life together, I would trust God and make glorifying HIM my primary goal.

With the dovetailing of my new goal of glorifying God and my “experiment,” if you will, with tithing faithfully, I started my journey out of fear and into trust and all the peace and tranquility that living in shalom, God’s rest, gives. I almost hesitate to go on with my story of what I learned at this point because I don’t want you, my dear readers, to take this post as an advocation for prosperity gospel. However, I would like to share with you a few things that happened after I began tithing to God out of a grateful heart.

1. I was offered another job vocal directing a show for higher pay

2. I got offered a teaching position for several evening voice classes for the same theater group I work with now

3. I gained a new weekly voice student who asked if she could pay me a month and a half in advance (just so she didn’t “forget”)

4. A paid singing gig I accepted for this Spring actually offered to pay me double if I could come to 5. one extra rehearsal and sing some extra music

6. God provided money for me to buy a used car when I get married this Fall in the form of scholarship money I had won in high school and put in the bank and forgotten about for YEARS

7. I began regularly studying with a new voice teacher who has encouraged me and spurred me on to new growth as a singer and convinced me that pursuing a Masters in music is what I should be doing and that I am good enough to do it

8. I found out that a subbing job I took just to help out a friend in a bind is actually paying me for my work

9. I found out my fiancé got a raise and a bonus at work and is well on his way to a promotion

10. One of my pastors asked to meet with me and spent time asking me about how life post-graduating was going and asked how he could help me continue to be challenged in music through the church’s  ministries

Now these things did not happen because God “owed” me or had to “reward” me for tithing. I was simply able to appreciate these blessings because I stopped worrying about ME providing for the future and I let GOD provide for the future. And let me tell you, He is WAY better at it than we are. I did not pray and ask God to give me more money, and I didn’t pray for God to send special people into my life to encourage me while I was in a place of confusion and turmoil over what to do with my life. But God knew that’s what I needed. He provided for needs I didn’t know I had. And THAT is what is beautiful about tithing. It is about learning to trust. It is about opening up your clenched fists and saying, “God, this is all yours. And by doing this I am acknowledging that I am yours, the world is yours, and everything in it. Even the money I make and the work I do and the things I think I earn by my own merit. They are yours not mine. And I know you will provide for all my needs, including the ones I don’t even know about.” By tithing to him weekly, I am continually crucifying my flesh and saying, “I am not going to worry because it’s not mine.”

Being successful is not about hoarding up money so that you can afford to buy all the things that make you comfortable and happy and privileged. It’s about working hard so that you can give more and more away. Just from reading that list of wonderful things that happened to me in the past month, you can see how truly extravagant God is. I didn’t NEED any of those things. But he provided them. How can I not, then, be extravagant with God and with others in return? Not out of a sense of guilt or obligation, but out of the desire in my heart to mirror the one with whom I am united, Christ, the ultimate giver, who gives himself continually to us as our salvation and our living hope. I am looking forward to the months to come and learning how to trust God more and more and rely on His provision. It’s been an amazing adventure so far and I know it will only get better. I hope some of you will join me on this journey! Please comment below and share your journey of learning to trust God so far this year, I would love to hear it!

~~~

"I'll stand with arms high and heart abandoned, in awe of the one who gave it all"

Au Revoir, 2014!

With the new year upon me, I have found myself spending a lot of time in reflection. While I am not usually one to make resolutions, this year I have made an exception.

When I think about how much happened in my life in 2014, I realize what crazy, amazing, and somewhat scary possibilities 2015 could hold. In the short twelve months in 2014, I learned the painful, but priceless lesson of how to value myself as God values me – or at least began the process of doing so. Stopping the self-hate cycle in my brain allowed me to let go of unhealthy and fruitless relationships and identify and accept relationships that pushed me closer to God. I really hate making sappy pop culture references, but Stephen Chbosky really got it right when he said in his book, The Perks of Being a Wallflower that "we accept the love we think we deserve." And I really didn't think I deserved much. But enter a sweet, kind, and loving (and handsome!) guy friend of five-years who reappeared on the scene right as I was making these discoveries and you have a recipe for romance.

In the short twelve months in 2014, I reconnected with, fell in love with, and agreed to marry my best friend.

And it doesn't end there! In the short twelve months in 2014, I finished my Bachelors degree in music. I presented two recitals, one shared with my dear friend Bekah, and another solo recital as the culmination of my entire undergraduate degree program. I challenged myself with difficult repertoire and made my own opportunities for growth outside of my degree program through competitions, master classes, and young artist programs. I spent the summer living in a foreign country studying opera, vocal technique, acting, and language and made incredible friends as a result. I grew my home business and gained voice student upon voice student, and learned so much more from teaching them than I ever would have learned by myself. I got a job (that started literally the day after my last final exam of undergrad) vocal directing for a musical theater group, and have been gloriously challenged and stretched in incredible ways.

In the twelve short months in 2014, I began to reap the benefits of a good work ethic and stick-to-it-iveness and never giving up on a childhood dream of being a prima donna, opera singer extraordinaire.

But even with all those wonderful happenings in 2014, it is so dreadfully easy to lose focus. By the end of the year, I was exhausted. Exhausted by wonderful things, yes, but still exhausted. And when we are at our weakest, the Devil sees the opportunity to do the most damage. With all of the big life changes on the horizon, graduating undergrad, getting a job, growing my home business, getting married, moving, applying to grad schools, being a good wife while in grad school, surviving grad school, kids(?!?!), and who knows what else, my brain nearly exploded. Worrying and unwarranted hopelessness washed over me like a flood and I began to think solely in "if only..." categories. "If only I had studied something in school that would qualify me better for jobs" I mean I could have saved a whole lot of money on college if I was going to graduate and only have to learn how to say "welcome to starbucks, what can I get started for you," right? "If only I knew exactly what career path God wanted me to take in order to use my gifts wisely," which was, if I may say so, one of the better "one ifs" in my repertoire but still very short-sighted. "If only I knew when God wants me and Jesse to [fill in the blank: buy a house, have kids, etc] so we could plan and prepare better for the vast chasm that is the future." All these and more played over and over in my head like a broken record growing louder and louder with every skip and repeat.

Finally, I had to take a minute and just say, STOP.

I had so easily lost sight of the very point of life itself. The point of life is not to become the world's definition of a successful individual. The point of life is not to plan perfectly for every event in life so that you can feel comfortable. As the Westminster Catechism so profoundly states, our purpose in life is "to glorify God and enjoy him forever." Cornelius Plantinga in his book Not the Way it's Supposed to Be: A Breviary of Sin spoke directly to my heart in this situation when he wrote:

 "Human flourishing is the same thing as glorifying God and enjoying him forever, and human wisdom is an inevitable, and human happiness a frequent, by-product of such flourishing. In the mystery of God's providence, those who do seek the kingdom find that various other flourishings often follow, but not when directly aimed at. Much of what we want in the way of happiness, wisdom, and general self-actualization cannot be gotten by trying for it. To try deliberately for self-actualization is like trying very hard to fall asleep or to have a good time."

The things I spend so much time striving for and worrying about are, in actuality, not worth a nanosecond of my time. When we seek Christ and His kingdom first, everything else falls into place. Now, things may not always "fall into place" the way we want them to. Believe me. I'm a type-A, neurotic as heck, perfectionist, and things very rarely go EXACTLY the way I would have them go. But my love for God has to outweigh my fear of failure. To make my aim to glorify God and enjoy Him forever is, as Platinga so aptly puts it "to become more and more the sort of person for whom eternal life with God would be sheer heaven,"  and that is the mark of a truly successful individual.

So, this is my resolution for 2015, a year full of wedding plans, a WEDDING, marriage, applying to grad schools, and paying grown-up bills: to begin making glorifying God and enjoying Him as my chief goal in life.

~~~

Please feel free to share what you learned from 2014 or what your 2015 resolutions are in the comment section below!

A Roman Holiday...

That’s right, ladies and gentlemen, I will be spending my summer in buon Italia this year studying opera and the Italian language with the wonderful staff of Oberlin Conservatory!!! 

At an extremely bleak and dreary point during the polar vortex earlier this year, I did something daring. I found, applied, and auditioned for an Italian opera training program all online. This required sending in references, resumés, video taping myself screeching out some Italian opera repertoire, and writing essays on why I thought I would be a good fit for the program. After pulling all these loose ends together, I sent everything in, expecting to hear back in about a month, as I had been told. To my excitement, I didn’t hear back a month later, but I got an email of acceptance only three days later! So, to make a long story short, I will be joining the ranks of Audrey Hepburn and Gregory Peck and packing up my things for a Roman Holiday this Summer! I couldn’t be more excited and more nervous all at the same time. I will be living in an apartment in Arezzo on my own for the good part of two months, and I will be commuting to various places in Tuscany for lessons, classes, and coaching sessions, and then performing at Arezzo's Communal Palace (the location of the opera scene from the movie La Vie e Bella) at the beginning of July. I would covet your prayers for safety and for an alert, re-energized mind so that I can make the most of this amazing opportunity. 

To all two or so of you who faithfully keep up with this blog, I will do my best to write updates as often as I can while I am in Italy! Please stay in touch!

A Little Girl Who Loved Clowns...

Well, you’ve heard about my childhood opera phase, and how I’ve been a wannabe prima donna for quite a long time now. For nearly twenty years, to be exact. What you don’t know though, but to which I briefly alluded in my last post, is that before my opera phase, I went through a clown phase. That’s right, folks. I wanted to be a clown. Not just for Halloween, not just for a costume party, not even just for fun, but professionally. I guess the positive thing I can take away from this embarrassing fact is that I’ve always had professional ambition. I didn’t just want to be any old clown, I wanted to be in the big leagues of clowning like Bozo or Ronald McDonald. I had high hopes.

Just like my opera craze, I’m not exactly sure how this obsession started. I guess it’s just another mystery to add to the books I’ll eventually write about my weird life. At any rate, I was dead set on becoming a professional clown from the age of three until I was almost five. I wore a clown suit, rainbow wig, and clown nose every day. Just imagine it. A clown nose. Every day for almost two years. All of that mouth breathing. No wonder I had to have braces TWICE as a teenager. Anyway, I drove my parents crazy with my antics. I listened to circus music every day, rehearsed routines, watched circus videos, the works. And what’s most embarrassing is that I wouldn’t go anywhere without my full clown attire. One day (and my dad just loves telling this story), my dad took me to the grocery store, and of course, I was dressed in my clown suit and full regalia. Well, while we were shopping, a lady stopped us, took a look at me and said, “Oh, how adorable! Do you want to be a clown for Halloween, Sweetie?” And my dad, a mere shell of a man having been worn down by continual circus music, replied without missing a beat, “For Halloween?! Lady, she wants to be one PROFESSIONALLY.” And walked away, his little clown in tow. 

You may be wondering how this phase ever came to an end, and I can assure you it most definitely did. Although you may still find me rehearsing death scenes in my spare time, you will not find me in a rainbow wig and clown nose, folding balloons into little farm animals (thank goodness). What really ended the phase is quite hilarious and speaks volumes of the value I put on my individuality. 

It was Halloween, and I was almost five years old. Given my fondness for all things clown, my parents and grandparents decided it would be a great idea for all five of us to go trick-or-treating dressed as clowns. And my family went all out. I was their only child/grandchild, and I was still in those twilight years when every holiday felt like a special revelation. Have you ever just stopped and thought about how magical holidays were when you were a child? I’m not just talking about Christmas, but every holiday, every birthday, oh, and summer! Summer used to be full of adventure and discovery! The older we get, the more ordinary everything becomes. I wish I could recapture that magic. But anyway, back to my story. It was Halloween, and my entire family was dressed to the nines in clown attire. I’ve seen the pictures, and they really went all out with this idea. My dad even dressed up, and as I’ve already said, that’s a huge deal. But do you think they could get me to wear a clown costume that day? No. I refused. They had stolen my thunder, and I was not happy. I went trick or treating with a frown on my face and a rejected rainbow wig in my hand, and after that day, the clown phase virtually disappeared. No more clown suit, no more rainbow afro, no more clown nose and mouth breathing. I had retired and entered civilian life once more. My parents finally slept easy at night knowing that when they woke up, the first sound to grace their ears would no longer be the Ringling Brothers.

Now, I guess the clown thing didn’t completely disappear, because once I became an opera lover, the first opera to gain my young appreciation was I Pagliacci. The Clowns. So you see, everything comes full circle. Clowns will probably haunt me for the rest of my life, but not in the way that they haunt most people. Clowns are a skeleton in my closet, but not a boogeyman under my bed. But I guess I’m okay with that. So, now you know probably one of the weirdest things about me. I’ve almost completely resigned myself to the fact that I will never live this phase of my life down. I say almost because there’s still a small part of me that really just wants to nonchalantly pretend it never happened. But it’s really hard to just nonchalantly pretend that you’re not dressed as a clown in more than half of your childhood pictures. Anyway, not only am I telling you this because it’s funny, but also because it robs my parents of the joy of using this information against me in a blackmail situation. I’m going public with this of my own accord while I still have the chance. I was a childhood clown. There, I said it. Now you know.

Here's where it all began...

This was my opera birthday party cake. It's Canio, the sad, homicidal clown of Leoncavallo's famous opera, I Pagliacci. 

Stay tuned for the next post, if you please! 

A Little Girl Who Loved Opera...

So, I’m a little strange. Not many people know from an early age what they want to be when they grow up, much less end up accomplishing it. But I guess I’m an exception. From the grand old age of five, I had decided I was going to be an opera singer. 

I remember, with a twinge of embarrassment, little five year old me telling my mom I wanted my 6th birthday party to be opera themed and to have all my friends come dressed as their favorite opera singers (I assumed that every six year old had one, apparently). Well, I had that birthday party, and darned if I didn’t somehow get all those poor little girls to dress up as characters they knew absolutely nothing about while I insisted on changing my own costume twice throughout the course of the day because I couldn’t decide on just one opera character to be for the day. My mom, always a good sport, put on a fancy black dress and feather boa to become the Lustige Witwe, and my dad (who is notorious in our family for dodging all costumed events after having a scarring Christmas Tree costume incident in the late ‘80s) even donned a clown nose to be Pagliacci. I’ll never forget that birthday party, not only because my family and friends will never LET me forget it, but also because it was one of the most fun parties I can remember. I know that just speaks volumes of my popularity in college ,but oh well... the secret is out. I wasn’t a partier. Hard to believe, I know. And you were already imagining me as the wild and exotic type. So sorry to disappoint.

The more I recall my childhood memories, the more I realize just how strange I was... Am.... Whatever. I mean, what six year old do you know that tears up listening to Signore, Ascolta? What six year old do you know who actually even knows what Signore, Ascolta is, for that matter? And what six year old do you know that would rather watch an opera than the Disney channel? Well, to be honest, I wasn’t even allowed to watch the Disney channel... maybe that added to the weirdness. Anyway, I guess I was a morose little kid, but who could blame me when I spent all day rehearsing death scenes. I am, and always have been, a deep thinker (to a fault more often than not), and opera just seemed to speak to me as nothing else could. Opera is deep, intricate, and heartfelt. Opera makes beautiful art out of life’s darkest situations, and somehow, a little melancholy girl who really hadn’t experienced any of those dark situations herself but sensed and felt them deeply, grasped on to it and was enthralled. 

Now, I could go on and on with stories from my less than typical childhood, I could even go into the fact that for a couple years before my opera obsession, I was convinced I was going to be a professional clown (and dressed accordingly), but I think I’ll save the other stories for another entry. The bottom line is I was not your average kid. I was always dramatic, always in costume, in short, I was a ham. And what better place for a ham to end up than on stage... Now all I can think of is that scene from “To Kill a Mockingbird” when the little girl is dressed up in a ham costume. I never understood how they decided on a ham costume of all things or why ham was really pertinent to the storyline. If somebody reads this and has an answer feel free to enlighten me. Ok, sorry, rabbit trail. Bottom line, I was always a ham and I’m still a ham because almost 20 years later, I ended up an opera singer after all. 

God’s plan for my life took me on some pretty crazy twists and turns before I got to this point. For a while I was a competitive dancer, and after that I thought about studying law or politics, for a while I didn’t even really want to go to college, and for a while I wanted to change my major to Jewish Studies until my college voice teacher locked me in her office and talked some sense into me. I was always meant to be an opera singer, so she told me,  and I can clearly see that now. But in the midst of those late teen/early adulthood years, everything seemed misty and foggy, like one of those days when you can barely see ten feet in front of you to drive. Life seems to pull you in a million different directions and offer you a million different possibilities, so its easy to lose sight of what God has been leading you toward all along.Well, my sophomore year of college I got serious about music. I had finally made the conscious decision that this was what I wanted to do and what I was meant to be and I had to be committed to it. Everyone who has studied music in college knows that it’s way too hard and time consuming to be anything but 150% in. Anyway, now I’m a senior  getting ready to move on to grad school in the next year. Though my professional operatic endeavors have only earned me a grand total of $194 so far, I’m pretty darn proud of that $194. I’m excited about what the future holds, and if my passion for singing opera has anything to do with how well I’ll do in it, I think I might do pretty well. 

I hope this blog which relates my various musical adventures will help explain why I am the way I am through these stories from my hilariously dysfunctional childhood. I hope it will also prove entertaining (and maybe enlightening?)  for you all.  Stay tuned for the next entry!

                                        (I'm the one in the middle with the rose in my hair)