New Blog

Just in case any of you old, faithful ones still visit this beast, I have officially moved here:

Liberty Bound

Here's something else I worked on last year:

Your Home and Mine

Goodbye, Erratic Muse. You were a comfort and challenge in your day. :-)

Indefinite Break (if you couldn't tell)

I thought I should tell you that The Erratic Muse has officially gone to rest. Thank you all for your many encouraging words and thought-provoking discussions. Although I think I would be mildly horrified to go back and read all the things I've posted (and probably disagree with myself at least a quarter of the time), you have all been very grand. :-)

The Erratic Muse definitely helped me flex my writing muscles for the last several years. Now there are too many other writing opportunities crowding for attention. I am so thankful! As things go along and I reach different stages, perhaps there will be an opportunity to revisit, but for now I'm going off the charts. Email me so we can stay in touch! :-)

Thank you, awesome people!

Life - Word Love

My love story with words has been a long, gradual one. Sometimes it's frozen me and I haven't been able to write anything, sometimes it's freed me to try bizarre ideas, some which flopped infamously, others that failed a little less. :-) It has been a gift to become more conscious of the art and beauty in lines, sentences, and paragraphs. Somehow, I want to keep reading poetry, underlining amazing things, studying Latin, reading aloud, pirating the dictionary, and memorizing and studying all those crazy things which come wrapped in language. I don't know how to wield something so big as a word, but I want to try.

Most of all, I am speechlessly grateful and amazed for the Bible. I am so clumsy and ignorant with such a gift. What a blessing each of us have—the full portrait of Christ in Living Words. We can pick it up anywhere and at anytime and we have hundreds of wise, encouraging, exciting books from dedicated saints who gave their lives to study and live now and in the past. All of this—and still, I fail to enjoy, be fed by, and depend on the Word of God in my daily life. How can I be one of God's little words, incarnate in the world, if I do not know the model I am fashioned after or the character of my Creator?

Unbelievably, my God is a God of mercy, who still changes and satisfies me when I finally go to His Word and see He has been driving me there this whole time. May our lives be truly dedicated to the best gift of all—the true Word. Life. 

The Best - Word Love

I do not think anything can make us more in love with words than the Bible. Dig into the living Word and suddenly language becomes so beautiful and powerful, we realize we need more than the rest of our lives to begin to understand it. 

Something that I've heard a lot of different ways suddenly came to a head in a remark I heard in a sermon from Tullian Tchividjian. What the Bible says, and how it says it, reflect and build off one another. He was talking about Colossians. The first section is about what God has done for us and the second on what that means about how we should live. We can see this in all of the Apostle Paul's epistles. The physical definitions of the words say that God initiated and changed us first--but so does the actual structure. We can see this all over the place in other structures and chiasms. Sometimes words are flat on paper, but with study we can seem them in 3D. I wonder what they'll look like when we can really see them.

The Bible is packed. God didn't give us a book we can read, put under our belt, and move on from. He also didn't give us something to crack our heads on. He wants us to read, but not just because we need to prove our commitment and daily acknowledge our need for Him. Instead, He gave us something that takes time, research, and study because He loves us so much that He wanted to give us the greatest gift of all—a lifelong, growing relationship with The Word. An endless gift of beauty, knowledge, and life. The gift that continually gives.

By The Word and through The Word, all things are being held together. When God speaks, physical things come into an existence. We are words He spoke, and His speaking is continually creating us and writing our lives. But this Author is also outrageously involved and generous to His characters. He turns around and hands us this powerful thing we call language and says, now you try.

2012

Current trends suggest that every year is both harder and more amazingly wonderful than the last. Such was true of dear 2012.

For time and sanity I'm going to be brief. Also, I'm going to try not to be sentimental, because this year was so packed and wonderful I could easily torment you with my feelings. ;-) And I feel like I already did that raving about various New York adventures. Then there was Aisha's wedding and Family Camp and Rachel's visit and a thousand other things that were so very close to perfect, they may be dangerous to talk about.

Here are twelve brief thoughts from last year in no order of importance. They are also thoughts I want to remember and remind myself of for shiny, new 2013.

1. Feed your brain always. When I feel dead, beat down, foggy-headed, what I probably need is a good dose of something thick and chewy like Ecclesiastes or John Donne.

2. History is one of the most exciting things in the world. The end.

Postscript- In history we see don't just what people believed but how they believed it, not just with their heads but with their hands, their feet, their blood, their souls.

3. I used to think that things needed to be saved, especially creativity or special moments, but now I know God is enough and way bigger than any plans or ideas I can possibly have in mind. God lavishes ridiculously and does not let us get over thrills, but only gives us deeper, crazier ones.

4. God cares about the fatherless, the widow, the orphan...the lonely, the hungry, the hurting. I know this because I have felt it, and I must be reminded because I need to care about these people too. Sometimes they are not who I thought.

5. God is about filling up. We should be about pouring out.

6. People are not trustworthy, but the Holy Spirit working in them is. The only important thing is the work of Jesus in someone. Not where they have been or what they have done. This is the only way to have a relationship of trust.

This was head knowledge for me. I say, in God we trust...but now I'm trying to live like it is true.

7. Don't tear it down. I need to care enough about it to build it up if I think something is wrong. Don't run over the people who are trying, instead dig in with them and get my hands dirty.

8. Jesus is the Mediator...of everything. He is the quickest way, and often the only way, between two people.

9. Our hearts should become bigger and more squishy with each sorrow and joy, not harder. Jesus has given us the answer to suffering and shown us the wildness of joy.

10. We're supposed to love in a way that means getting hurt. And we can afford it because we have all we need. Love like Jesus. Bleed.

11. The Church, the Body of Christ, my dear brothers and sisters, is a more massive blessing than I can ever fathom. God has taught me so much through you all, particularly you in my own physical church. Your impact on my life and the love you lavish on my often thick and ungrateful skull is quite beyond my comprehension. The conversations, encouragement, and exhortation I have been given this year has been a huge part of the complete, devastating blessing of 2012. God is so good. And He so often works through imperfect but loving, gracious hands.

12. The Gospel is freedom. Live and fight and dance in that.

Other Things

So, I hope you all had an amazing and blessed New Years and Christmas! The Erratic Muse has been quiet on such subjects, but not because they haven't been magnificent.

Here are a few things-

-Thank you for your comments and emails on my Les Miserables reviews. It was encouraging and interesting to hear different opinions. I've been able to see it three times now, and I am quite sure it is quite good. ;-)

-Here is a good review on Les Miserables. Excellent thoughts about Javert and Russell Crowe.

 -My sister finally posted about our October New York Trip.  (See my post.)

-Last Year/New Year post in the works.

Have a wonderful weekend!

Les Miserables (2012)

Les Miserables is a beautiful story and has withstood many interpretations and productions. Somehow, even with the disturbing zeal to bury the story of redemption in the 1998 previous feature film, by Billie August and Rafael Yglesias, it retained portions of the thrilling hope of Victor Hugo's 1,500 page novel.

It is the musical, however, that took the story and shamelessly dug out the themes and belted out the epic of grace and forgiveness across 42 countries in 21 languages. Last year marked the 25th anniversary. A new live performance traveled through Cinemas and a breathing cast appeared in concert halls throughout England and the US. Tom Hooper was working on his mountainous task--turning the well-beloved musical into movie. Something that would explain and present the story to thousands who'd never heard it, as well as die-hard, jealous fans. He is pretty crazy.

The finished product exploded on Christmas Day. Tom Hooper and our grand knight, Sir Cameron Macintosh, once again proved themselves (above and beyond Peter Jackson and other ambitious individuals who seize a powerful story in new love and best intentions and flail to present it to the public, missing and mutating the very elements that probably attracted them...ahem. We still love them anyway).

This new musical movie of Les Miserables presents the story in all of its gritty, offensive love, grace, and hope. With melody, words, and screen, the movie is able to highlight and draw out the beautiful symbolism and themes, something many of us haven't trained ourselves to do on our own. You forget you're in a musical and only find yourself in a grand epic which is, at the same time, the  personal story of each of us. This rendition was done in an adventurous way, all of the singing recorded during filming and on set, much of it straight at the audience. The factory women accuse us. Fantine begs us. There is no sparing our emotions or allowing us to hold it at arm's length--all the grit and the grace are right there, sometimes yelling, sometimes drawing us into the screen.

With all it's realism, it goes a little far, making the movie harder to enthusiastically recommend. As you could expect, the scenes with dissolutes and prostitutes lead to unnecessary content when performed as a complete screenplay. There is at least sixty seconds that none of us needed, even if it jolts us out of our comfortable, clean ignorance or indifference to things occurring today in our own cities...

Anne Hathaway gives everything she has to her performance of Fantine and left me absolutely speechless. Even if you are a Hathaway hater (which I have been) you have to admire how much of herself she pours into this character. Yeah...still pretty speechless on this.

Hugh Jackman also dug into his role. If you cringe at his voice at the beginning, it is because he starved himself to look and feel more like a laboring convict for the first shot. He improves over time and while there have been better voices, I whole-heartedly adore his Jean Valjean (even if you dread "Bring Him Home"). His soliloquy and last scene sacrifice things that can very well be sacrificed to bleed all the soul and life and struggle and longing. Outstanding.

But even with all his superb acting, Hugh Jackman is not Colm Wilkinson, so for dedicated Les Miserables fans, Wilkinson's appearance as the Priest is both exciting and satisfying. It also gloriously draws out how, through the Priest's kindness, Jean Valjean turns and becomes like the Priest. How Christ sacrifices and cares for us--recreates us into little Christs becoming more like Himself, and sends us out to show His Character and grace to the world.

Also this should comfort Les Miserables zealots and please Colm Wilkinson fans.

Aside from the live performance, Aaron Tveit was the best Enjolras I've seen. He probably didn't have the best voice, but all his vibes were spot on. I fell in love with the whole revolution preparation scene in a completely new way. His life and complete character--how it was contrasted and shown against others and how he inspired and loved his brothers, may have been my favorite and freshest part of the movie. Some may say his end was a little over the top, but if you dig into many historical biographies, you can find that many endings are similarly over the top and ridiculously epic.

Marius was a great rich kid. Cosette, despite deep-rooted loathing for Amanda Seyfried, may have been my favorite interpretation yet. Both seemed appropriately unlikable and newbish at the beginning but hopeful characters by the end. They were presented as I saw them in the story.

Although Eddie Redmayne's voice does not reach godlike status (who can compare with Micheal Ball?), his "Empty Chairs and Empty Tables" is acted and sung in a way to wring your heart.

I'd seen Samantha Barks as Eponine before, but this screen version made me sympathize and fall in love with the character for the first time. And, unlike much of the cast, I have no hesitations about her voice.

The true test came with Javert. My first introduction to the Les Miserables musical came from Philip Quast version of Javert's soliloquy. It instantly rocked my world and has continued to do so ever after. The character of Javert created my original love and devotion to the story many years before and has probably influenced me above and beyond just my writing.

All my backstory with the Inspector made Russell Crowe's performance imperative to any joy or horror I would get out of the movie. His first singing attempt actually was a little distressing. He improves over time and does interesting interpretations of his two solos. His acting is phenomenal and I feel like he really entered into the character and understood him. His performance is almost as opposite to Norm Lewis as anyone with the same lines can present. Russell Crowe paints a more passive character with considerably less gleeking and more unspoken conflict. He is a little soft, in all respects, but I actually loved his embodiment of so complex a character. Of course, he is not the only right and perfect portrait and his voice, even with everything else he adds to the character, is nothing exceptional and still cannot be compared to Philip Quast.

The scene right before Javert starts his soliloquy was disappointing. They switch it up so Jean Valjean leaves basically in defiance (also, covered in a little too intense of sewerness). I understand how this might have made the scene switches and all easier, but it was almost an unforgivable sin.

The only other dissatisfying scene for me was the end. Although when you learn the history, the last scene makes more sense, even a successful revolution hardly gives Fantine, Gavroche, or Valjean the hope and deliverance they need and long for. This finale piece is much bigger and seemed trivialized and disconnected from the thirst we all have and the song of victorious hope in the souls of all who have been driven to the light. A disappointing scene to finish a glorious story. But perhaps if they'd wrapped it up in all it's heart-throbbing glory no one would have been able to walk out of the theater alive.

Of course there are portions left out and others jumbled. There is a new song and theme added written by the original creators who were all involved with the movie. The new content highlights Jean Valjean and Cosette's father/daughter relationship. It feels almost Disneyish in a few moments, but gives a break from the intensity of the rest of the movie. I already had mountainous respect for Tom Hooper and now it will last forever. What a massive task to turn a successful musical into a cohesive, powerful screenplay. The hard work and dedication by the entire cast and crew is unbelievable.

There will be more Les Miserables, some which will perhaps dig deeper and soar higher, but this movie captures the spirit, raw soul, and devastating grace. The best stories can and should be told in many ways, shapes, and forms. If you can deal with the grit or know when to go get a popcorn refill, go see it.

Come back and tell me what you think. :-)

There is so much more that can be said. Hopefully Lauren will say some of it soon. If you go see it, look for crosses (obvious and camouflaged), new creation/covenant and old world/covenant themes, reoccurring musical melodies, and contrasting reactions and characters.

Also see this post - Comfort and Confrontation for us Les Miserables Snobs

Artists be encouraged. Work done this well and with such a proclamation of truth will last, spread, and send tremors throughout the world. We are changed by just such things as these.

Comfort and Confrontation for us Les Miserables Snobs

This is not the review I've been unable to write yet. It is simply thoughts from a selfish person. 

My initial reaction to news of the movie was horror and panic. None of the actors were right and I was sure none of them could possibly sing and everything would be ruined and destroyed. But as I continued to see more and more information on the movie, I started to become fearfully hopeful, or at least less fatally pessimistic.

It was the same for many hardcore Les Miserables fans--the movie was terrifying. So many things could go wrong. Some things would obviously have to be sacrificed and new things would be added. Also, it would be in the hands of the common man to critique, under-appreciate, misunderstand, or, worst of all, paste on fashion journals and Claire's jewelry. It was something we cherished and hoarded, something we wanted to share with a select few and could only be adored after careful study and loving care.

Eventually it was brought to my attention my attitude reeked and, after almost a week of butterflies and in trembling, almost hysteric anticipation, I went to the theater Christmas evening. I couldn't process it to begin with. I couldn't talk about what had just happened and I certainly couldn't discuss anything else. I went home and sat in the middle of my floor and stared at the wall. 

I'm still mostly speechless and haven't been able to formulate a true review even with many attempts. If it wasn't for my family, I might still be leaning my head against a theater chair and rocking back and forth with occasional groans and gasps. 

Les Miserables will be treated lightly by many, laughed at by others, and offensive to some, but I think most will emerge from the dark movie theater into the world, shaken up and a little uncomfortable, with a new sense of awe and wonder. Such is my case. 

The story is sure to be talked about, discussed, seen, appreciated, and yes, under-appreciated too. But the important thing is it's getting shared and spoken and screamed and played out in front of people's eyes and in people's souls. Perhaps our hesitation or inability to discuss or share it with one another is because it's akin to becoming stripped of everything we have and shown the true story of our own selves--hopeless, angry, alone, sinful, black. This is who we were, with rotten teeth or a pressed inspector uniform, and then something bigger--mercy, love, grace, light--the painful, tireless, devastating love of God. Yes. It means misery and death, but it also assures us that even the darkest night--the sin of our own souls--will end, crucified to a cross, and the Sun will rise. 

December 15, 2012

What do we do in times like these?
What did we do yesterday and the day before?
We sat and talked of hope and lived in comfort,
Waiting for the Christ Child to be born.

Today tragedy woke us in gunfire.
We stare broken and confused,
And tomorrow, again, children will be swallowed in death,
Waiting for the Christ Child to be born.

We sit behind closed doors and chafe,
Or walk along the street and feebly cry hope.
We ask each other how all this could happen,
Waiting for the Christ Child to be born.

What do we do in times like these?
Nothing. Just like yesterday when we were free.
Hope has turned to talk and flight.
When will our Christ Child come?

Open our doors and hearts,
Bring us to our knees and tears.
Send us out to a foreign world,
Fill us with warrior love.

Comfort, comfort your people, Lord,
But only with the comfort that fights.
Give us hope reborn that lives
Declaring the Christ Child is born.

Give us faith that carries sickness, loneliness, and death.
Make us hear the singing host
And ring the bell of peace.
Joy will conquer every ill.

Our Christ Child is among us still.

Underlining - Word Love

The next chapter was my mountainous internal struggle with underlining. I am a purist and I also believe authors are frequently treated like dirt. Reading the end of the book is judging without a hearing. Singing music while you read is yelling while someone is trying to talk to you. And underlining is making something stand out the writer chose not to put in all caps, bold, or italic. Marring the pages with your own notes is distracting and doesn't allow you to hear the author's whole thought. You know, these sorts of convictions. So my reading system for several years was reading a book straight through then going back a second time to write out quotes and notes. If a book was worth reading once, it was worth reading twice.

My first leap of conscious occurred in desperation. I'm a painfully slow reader and had about seven books lined up for notes and several shelves full of books that hadn't been cracked yet. I started a book I needed to complete, start to finish, in a week. I should have, but I didn't have any respect for the particular author and so I closed my eyes and made the first incision. I began to underline with a big, bold pen. I realized it made me pay attention to word arrangement and train of thought in new ways. Taking notes became entirely different somehow and suddenly I was aware of the author's word choice and order, both in areas that were aggravating and thrilling.

There are still some books that should be committed to memory and untouched, others where post-it tabs are vital, but many books are best served and used with respectful, careful underlining. Sometimes I even write questions and notes in the margins.

I wonder how much more I would have learned if I'd given in sooner... Most of the time being a purest and perfectionist is an excuse not to learn or use something for its proper purpose.

Poetry - Word Love

I started a post a long time ago about words and how much I'd been learning about our mutual feelings for one another. Now I feel like the relationship has become far more serious. In fact, I think it will be a love affair that will take a lifetime, and even at the end (or will it be the beginning?), we might not really know each other.

I used to think I loved writing and books. It was true, but in a quest to make myself fall in love with poetry, I realized I'd really enjoyed the stories and ideas. I hadn't actually been listening all that closely. Poetry was a discipline at first, but soon it became a rampant obsession. Perhaps the quickest way to become intimate with words is through analyzing, editing, and writing poetry. And so I took the leap. :-)

John Donne shoulders great responsibility for my quick spiral in the last four years...but he led to other discoveries. I'm not sure how interesting or helpful it will be, but for the next bit I hope to post some of what people have been patiently teaching me about words. Please feel free to contribute and comment on things you've learned or wisdom that comes to mind. 

Stories are Soul Food

This N.D. Wilson post has been around a few times, but I recently re-read it and have been thinking on it since.

Saturday night meditation...

Take me and remake me

do something new

in this darkness.

Give me love that is daring,

willing to be scorched

and open to nails.

Make my roots deep and grounded,

unsatisfied with this,

always thirsting for you.

Teach me to long for something bigger,

give me desire that will hurt,

a passion that will burn hot.

Thrust me in the refiner's fire,

only watch and shape me gently,

always beside me and with me.

Use me in this scene you are always weaving,

feed my lines and my cues patiently,

show me a glimpse of the story.

Just don't leave me to flat comfort or happiness,

never let me outlive my love for you,

forever fill me up and pour me out.

New York

I've visited Pennsylvania many times and she is the very best in October (or so my mildly limited experience tells me). Oregon fall is beautiful because there are deciduous trees and evergreens setting each other off in amazing ways. Also, there is Portland. But Pennsylvania is stunning because it almost entirely sheds summer onto old, expectant graveyards, brick buildings, and long driveways. Yeah, we'll have to talk more about Pennsylvania another day...

This year, I met New York City. And then I came back for a visit and to see just how she looked in the fall.

I know it's horribly mainstream to fall in love with New York... But I could be happy in Brooklyn forever. (Of course, I could be happy almost anywhere I've visited, country or city  :-P, however, Brooklyn does thrill my soul. ;-)

Snapshots-

-The death march of the abundant suitcases and treasure hunt for the subway elevator.

-People--in your way, under your feet, over your head, in your face.

-Phantom of the Opera. Hated the movie. Loved the musical. Once in the second row and once along the wall of the balcony. 

-Times Square at midnight. (And over a dozen other times.)

-Reading about someone walking down King's Highway in my Potok's words while the Subway pulled away from the King's Highway station.

-Reading John together in Trinity Church cemetery and Central Park.

-Seeing friends before and after their wedding. God did something mysterious and is doing something awesome with that grounded romance. J+J, you guys are real and beautiful!

-Worshiping and fellowshipping with newly met brothers and sisters and in a dozen different accents.

-Listening to a concert in a crowded park feeling very pale and uncharaismatic. 

-Watching Aisha spazz in the Lindt store. 

-The Cyclone. Both times with people who said they would never ride a rollercoaster. 

-Listening to Dylan's Tempest in the airplane, the train, the subway.

-Sushi in Little Italy. Yes, we went to Little Italy twice and ordered sushi. But don't worry, we experienced the Italy-ness as well. The best pizza I have ever tasted was down the street. I thought I was ordering a slice and they brought me a whole pie. I'm told their desserts were good too. Also, much energy and arm waving from Italian waiters. 

-Visiting Redeemer Church.

-Seeing Suzy go nuts with her camera all over the city. 

-Tasted gelato for the first time ever. Two scoops of it made out of fresh milk, chopped mint leaves, squeezed lime, and white rum. First ice creamy substance since October 2010. Not that I'd remember...

-Nearly getting run over by individuals jogging with strollers across the Brooklyn bridge...

-Lingering over Memling, Caravaggio, and hundreds of other gifted, amazing paintings. Like this one. Or this one. And so many others. Makes you think about things differently. Makes you see how important art is.

There were a thousand other things too, of course. My idea of seeing the world is going somewhere and really living there for awhile. Holding still and absorbing it. Writing in it. Reading in it. Talking in it. Listening to the violinists under the bridges and standing in the dirty ocean.
But since my Mumsie is an expert planner and efficient world traveler, this last time in New York we saw so much! It was pretty amazing. And I am thankful. :-)

We were there just a few days before Hurricane Sandy. Please keep all the people who's lives have been so changed in your prayers. It's going to be a mess for a long time, and there will be scars left over.

Please pray for King's Chapel, Pastor Troy, and all the saints there who are laboring to help those effected by the storm. They have been and will be continuing to proclaim the Gospel in a tough missionary field.

Thanks for reading,
Bethany

Pictures from my amazing sister. She'll be posting much more about NYC sometime, I'm sure. 

Seasons

As it may appear unto you, I am neglecting this blog very successfully. 

And I'm not going to say anything about being busy, because that is simply to say I live in this place. 

The last few months have included the following-

Flying back and forth across the country a few times, shady bus rides while whispering of deep things, some inauspicious writing, big talks across little coffee tables, unassuming sunsets, and many glorious sunrises. 

Wise words from wrinkled people, baby people, and middeling people. 

Many hours and slow going through new and old work. Fresh ideas and ancient projects. 

Soundtrack of Donne, Herbert, and Auden. Bonhoeffer, Chesterton, and Lewis. Wright, Goff, and Leithart. Potok, Bradbury, and Wilson. 

Also, lots of fragments...

I fully intend to post on Wednesdays from this day forward. Perhaps I shall talk about New York City in one whole blog post cliche. That will be fun. 

God Moves in a Mysterious Way - William Cowper

God moves in a mysterious way
His wonders to perform;
He plants His footsteps in the sea
And rides upon the storm.

Deep in unfathomable mines
Of never failing skill
He treasures up His bright designs
And works His sovereign will.

 Ye fearful saints, fresh courage take;
The clouds ye so much dread
Are big with mercy and shall break
In blessings on your head.

 Judge not the Lord by feeble sense,
But trust Him for His grace;
Behind a frowning providence
He hides a smiling face.

 His purposes will ripen fast,
Unfolding every hour;
The bud may have a bitter taste,
But sweet will be the flower.

Blind unbelief is sure to err
And scan His work in vain;
God is His own interpreter,
And He will make it plain.

Trinity Institute

Exciting times! Please pray for this work and for the men and their families involved.

Another reason to be happy winter is beating summer...

Watching

how selfish you are

holding it all to yourself

give me some

you've left me alone

while I cannot penetrate

rusted doors

who am I, fainting?

with yearning to carry what

I cannot

my pain is empty

how black it is around you

homeless ache

what is this anger?

when all I do is expound

empty things

unreachable fire

its one consuming demands

aloneness

I can only lift

faint shadows when we address

Someone else.

August, fare-thee-well. You are, and always will be, beautiful in every way.
Tomorrow I shall move on and climb a mountain...

really, we're climbing Mt. St. Helen's...hopefully early enough to catch the first September sunrise.