"There is a difference between the observable universe and the physical universe."
-Chris Impey
Coming across the aforementioned sentence during astronomy was supposed to serve the purpose of driving the author's point home. Unfortunately, it actually distracted me. Something about the wording reminded me of another quote:
"Methinks that in looking at things spiritual, we are too much like oysters observing the sun through the water, and thinking that thick water the thinnest of air."
-Herman Melville
Another one that came to mind, too, from C.S. Lewis' Miracles. In it, he describes reality as a sort of building with several floors, where we don't know what is happening on the other floors. Of course, if you've ever stayed in a noisy hotel, you know that floors of buildings aren't completely cut off from each other. You might catch glimpses- or, more likely, noises that sound like elephants at 2 a.m.- but you can't fully understand what's going on unless you are actually present on the floor. C.S. Lewis explains it much more elegantly, but I unfortunately cannot remember where in the book he discussed it. I'm sorry.
Anyway, a thought has been playing through my head recently, and it goes like this:
I'm glad I serve a God that I could never imagine fully.
Yes, sometimes faith is frustrating. Yes, I long for a close and personal relationship with my Savior, which would be a lot easier if He wasn't so unlike anything I've ever experienced. Yes, there are days that I wish Christianity was always easy to understand, believe, and live.
But what if it was?
If I always had the answers, do you know what that would mean?
It would mean that God was like me. That's the only way I'd be able to fully comprehend Him. (Although, to be honest, I don't fully understand myself, but I tend to think that's because I was made by an intelligence greater than mine.)
That's actually pretty terrifying. Given the two alternatives, I would take uncertainty every time.
But it's not just that. I love the fact that I will never run out of things to be taught by God. All the days of my life, He will continue to gently correct my perceptions and replace them with reality. I can go deeper and deeper and never reach His end. And I will never have to lose the sense of wonder and amazement that fills me when I ponder His character in all the ways He reveals it: His Word, His Spirit, His creation.
Just to be clear, I am not trying to imply that this means I don't need to endeavor to comprehend God to the fullest extent of my ability. I'm simply rejoicing that that struggle will never end, until I see Him as He is.
"Dear friends, now we are children of God, and what we will be has not yet been made known. But we know that when Christ appears, we shall be like Him, for we shall see Him as He is. All who have this hope in Him purify themselves, just as He is pure."
-1 John 3:2-3
Friday, June 5, 2015
Hey there
So it's been a while. A shockingly long while, actually.
I've been good- keeping busy with college and work and trying to draw every day (see the recent example above). In the process, it seems that my blog has been neglected more than usual.
Hopefully, I'll be posting soon, but it seemed rather abrupt to just jump in with my random thoughts without giving some sort of transition post to let everyone know that I am alive and have not forgotten how to use blogger.
The blog herself is much... brighter than I'd remembered. I think she might be getting a little color update soon. We'll see. I probably shouldn't promise too much. :)
See you soon! :)
Julianne
Sunday, March 30, 2014
How I became a songwriter
Dear Molly,
One of our conversations on Friday made me start thinking about my journey of writing songs, and I thought, "I should write this down so I'll remember it." So, since you're probably the only other person who's also interested in hearing it, you are the recipient.
I remember distinctly when I first became a songwriter, although I can't remember exactly when it was. However, based on other events that happened before and after this one, I believe I was either seven or eight. In other words, my statement the other day that it started before I knew you was most likely false. I'm sorry. Anyway, I believe I had just gotten out of the shower.* Rushing to my room, I grabbed a pencil and started writing furiously as the lyrics appeared in my head. When I had finished that night, I counted up my songs and discovered that I had written six. I tucked my notebook into my the case of my NIV Adventure Bible so that I wouldn't miss it if inspiration happened to strike during church the next morning. Sunday night, I persuaded my best friend to "write a song with me," which consisted of me writing a few lines and then asking her what she thought. I sent it home with her that evening.
Sadly, as far as I know, none of these precious manuscripts were preserved. However, I can remember the chorus to my favorite one. It went something like this:
"You are awesome, Jesus
Awesome, Jesus,
Awesome, Jesus,
Awesome."
Get the point? :)
The songwriting craze faded out as quickly as the fervor that had driven me to write those first songs had arrived. In fact, in fourth grade, my friend found the song that I'd written with her input, taught it to her younger cousin, and sang it for me.
"I like it." she told me.
I shrugged. Since I was no longer consumed with enthusiasm over the fact that I could write songs, I was able to listen objectively. And, in case you were wondering, I wasn't impressed.
"It's okay, I guess." was all I could say.
Several years passed. In that time, I never thought I'd go back to writing songs. I was, however, steadily becoming more and more enamored with writing in other genres. If you were to shadow me in any of my social interactions, you'd find me critiquing grammar or rephrasing sentences in order to make sure I understood what the other person what saying. My head was full of characters, plot-lines, and words, and I liked it that way. If you'd asked me, I would have freely admitted to you that I loved writing. But writing songs was out of the question: I didn't consider myself to be a good enough musician.
My second attempt to write songs came when I thought I was going to be in a band with some of my friends. One of them said, "I can put chords together, but lyrics are really hard. Do you think you could come up with something?"
"Great!" I thought. "If I'm the lyricist, then our songs will always have correct spelling and grammar."
I also had some other thoughts that were not quite so positive. Thoughts like, "How do you write songs, anyway?" Or, worse yet, "What if I can't write anything worth singing?" Honestly, these thoughts outnumbered the positive ones by such a large margin that I usually forgot how much I loved correct spelling and grammar.
Although I was terrified, I started writing lyrics again. Most of them were awkward and faltering attempts, but I was at least trying again. In the process, I figured something out: songs were good stress relievers. I already knew that listening to music could change my attitude, but when I was angry or sad or lonely, I found myself searching for my songwriting notebook. Putting the feelings into words lessened their intensity, and allowed me to look them in the face. I'd think, "In a few months, this song will make me laugh because I'll think it's ridiculous." and I'd start to feel better.
For a while, that was all songwriting was for me- an escape, a coping mechanism, and something so personal that I would have shuddered at the thought of ever showing my songs to anyone.
The story gets fuzzy here, because I'm not sure exactly what prompted me to start sharing what I'd written. Anyway, at some point I realized that I wasn't going to get any better unless I let someone else see what I'd written. I do know that I chose to share one with you because:
1) You write good songs
2) You are kind, so I figured your opinions wouldn't come across as harsh.
3) You had been hinting that Allison and I should start writing songs.
Of course, I still wasn't very enthusiastic about the idea of sharing songs that I'd written while I was in a bad mood. Instead, I decided to write a worship song, and in the process of creating something that wasn't inextricably linked to unhappy memories, I discovered that songwriting was fun. It still is.
That's the story, and one that will probably keep evolving as I keep writing. Hope you've enjoyed!
Love,
Julianne
*Why is it that good ideas always come to me in the shower? It's awkward.
One of our conversations on Friday made me start thinking about my journey of writing songs, and I thought, "I should write this down so I'll remember it." So, since you're probably the only other person who's also interested in hearing it, you are the recipient.
I remember distinctly when I first became a songwriter, although I can't remember exactly when it was. However, based on other events that happened before and after this one, I believe I was either seven or eight. In other words, my statement the other day that it started before I knew you was most likely false. I'm sorry. Anyway, I believe I had just gotten out of the shower.* Rushing to my room, I grabbed a pencil and started writing furiously as the lyrics appeared in my head. When I had finished that night, I counted up my songs and discovered that I had written six. I tucked my notebook into my the case of my NIV Adventure Bible so that I wouldn't miss it if inspiration happened to strike during church the next morning. Sunday night, I persuaded my best friend to "write a song with me," which consisted of me writing a few lines and then asking her what she thought. I sent it home with her that evening.
Sadly, as far as I know, none of these precious manuscripts were preserved. However, I can remember the chorus to my favorite one. It went something like this:
"You are awesome, Jesus
Awesome, Jesus,
Awesome, Jesus,
Awesome."
Get the point? :)
The songwriting craze faded out as quickly as the fervor that had driven me to write those first songs had arrived. In fact, in fourth grade, my friend found the song that I'd written with her input, taught it to her younger cousin, and sang it for me.
"I like it." she told me.
I shrugged. Since I was no longer consumed with enthusiasm over the fact that I could write songs, I was able to listen objectively. And, in case you were wondering, I wasn't impressed.
"It's okay, I guess." was all I could say.
Several years passed. In that time, I never thought I'd go back to writing songs. I was, however, steadily becoming more and more enamored with writing in other genres. If you were to shadow me in any of my social interactions, you'd find me critiquing grammar or rephrasing sentences in order to make sure I understood what the other person what saying. My head was full of characters, plot-lines, and words, and I liked it that way. If you'd asked me, I would have freely admitted to you that I loved writing. But writing songs was out of the question: I didn't consider myself to be a good enough musician.
My second attempt to write songs came when I thought I was going to be in a band with some of my friends. One of them said, "I can put chords together, but lyrics are really hard. Do you think you could come up with something?"
"Great!" I thought. "If I'm the lyricist, then our songs will always have correct spelling and grammar."
I also had some other thoughts that were not quite so positive. Thoughts like, "How do you write songs, anyway?" Or, worse yet, "What if I can't write anything worth singing?" Honestly, these thoughts outnumbered the positive ones by such a large margin that I usually forgot how much I loved correct spelling and grammar.
Although I was terrified, I started writing lyrics again. Most of them were awkward and faltering attempts, but I was at least trying again. In the process, I figured something out: songs were good stress relievers. I already knew that listening to music could change my attitude, but when I was angry or sad or lonely, I found myself searching for my songwriting notebook. Putting the feelings into words lessened their intensity, and allowed me to look them in the face. I'd think, "In a few months, this song will make me laugh because I'll think it's ridiculous." and I'd start to feel better.
For a while, that was all songwriting was for me- an escape, a coping mechanism, and something so personal that I would have shuddered at the thought of ever showing my songs to anyone.
The story gets fuzzy here, because I'm not sure exactly what prompted me to start sharing what I'd written. Anyway, at some point I realized that I wasn't going to get any better unless I let someone else see what I'd written. I do know that I chose to share one with you because:
1) You write good songs
2) You are kind, so I figured your opinions wouldn't come across as harsh.
3) You had been hinting that Allison and I should start writing songs.
Of course, I still wasn't very enthusiastic about the idea of sharing songs that I'd written while I was in a bad mood. Instead, I decided to write a worship song, and in the process of creating something that wasn't inextricably linked to unhappy memories, I discovered that songwriting was fun. It still is.
That's the story, and one that will probably keep evolving as I keep writing. Hope you've enjoyed!
Love,
Julianne
*Why is it that good ideas always come to me in the shower? It's awkward.
Wednesday, March 12, 2014
Tuesday, March 11, 2014
The Beauty in My Lap
Something exciting happened in my life last week.
As those of you who are acquainted with me (which, I believe, is all of you) will know, this is not an uncommon occurrence. I tend to get excited about lots of things: guacamole, snow, and standardized tests, just to name a few. Indeed, the "something" that I'm going to tell you about is one of many things that made me giddy with anticipation recently. So, even though I attended an amazing surprise party, a Bible quiz, and got to hold my friend's baby for the first time (by the way, I think that's the first time I've ever said that.) in the past seven days, I'm not going to elaborate on any of those events.
No, the subject of this post (and possibly the sole reason I haven't been posting) is this beautiful instrument:
It's on loan from friends for as long as I need it, and Allison and I have been enjoying playing with it. Note the added preposition. It was purposefully placed in that very spot, because I do not mean that we have been playing it. It has, however, proven to be a very fun toy. :)
As you might have guessed from the previous paragraph, I have much to learn. However, Molly has been very graciously trying to help me figure things out.
So, that's what's new with me. :) What were you excited about in the last week?
As those of you who are acquainted with me (which, I believe, is all of you) will know, this is not an uncommon occurrence. I tend to get excited about lots of things: guacamole, snow, and standardized tests, just to name a few. Indeed, the "something" that I'm going to tell you about is one of many things that made me giddy with anticipation recently. So, even though I attended an amazing surprise party, a Bible quiz, and got to hold my friend's baby for the first time (by the way, I think that's the first time I've ever said that.) in the past seven days, I'm not going to elaborate on any of those events.
No, the subject of this post (and possibly the sole reason I haven't been posting) is this beautiful instrument:
 |
| Terrible quality, I know. Also, it's a selfie. I'm sorry about that, but I thought it was better than nothing. |
As you might have guessed from the previous paragraph, I have much to learn. However, Molly has been very graciously trying to help me figure things out.
.jpg) |
| Molly's Music Academy, lesson #1: This is the wrong way to hold a guitar. Thanks, Molly! :) |
Saturday, March 1, 2014
February: The month in review
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| On top of the world, headed for vacation. I got a window seat. :) |
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| 50th anniversary! |
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| Vacation and sunshine. :) |
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| I am to the point where I only have to wear my retainers at night... I'm free to drink tea again! To celebrate, I bought some Earl Grey at Trader Joe's. |
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| Started reading a book about goals and aspirations... And received this fortune at a Chinese restaurant. I liked it. |
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| Crepes for Daddy's birthday! |
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| Selfie with the bestie. Also, some lovely windblown hair on my head. :p |
Tuesday, February 25, 2014
Love Before First Sight
I pre-ordered my first c.d. in January: Fading West by Switchfoot. In my usual overly-excited manner, I listened to the three songs that were available, and made myself happy by pushing the "Show Complete Album" button on Itunes.
I know, it sounds like a sad life. For some people, it probably would be, but I am not one of those people. I loved looking at the song list, imagining what the songs would sound like, guessing which ones would be my favorites.
"'Let It Out' sounds like it has promise," I thought, hearing a melody with those lyrics that sounded more like a Josh Groban line than a Switchfoot chorus. That was okay. Part of the excitement was in the not knowing, and I trusted Jon Foreman not to let me down.
He didn't. "Let It Out" is one of my favorite songs on the album, and that's saying quite a bit because it's a great album. "It was love at first sight for me with this song. Or should that be love before first listen?" I thought the other day. In case you're wondering why I was thinking this, well, I can't be 100% sure why I think anything. However, in this case, I'm almost certain that I was trying to come up with something, anything, to keep me from breaking out into some embarrassing dance moves to the music only I could hear.
My motives for thinking aside, I quickly realized that thought wasn't accurate. In actuality, I loved that song before first time I heard it. Admittedly, the first love was entirely different from the second, but it was there nonetheless.
That thought led to another: "You know," I said to myself, even though I obviously did already know what I was thinking, "That's what I want for my future marriage." Any two people can create a story where they fall for one another's looks, personality, smile, smarts, smell, or whatever else causes people to fall in love at a certain time. I want to love before first sight, to say, "I don't know who he is, or what he's like, but I'm so excited about the fact that we're going to be together someday that I'm going to do everything in my power to make sure that I can love him in the best way possible when he finally comes along."
It's a good thing that's the kind of sentiment that is best expressed by actions, because I'm not sure that I have the breath capacity for a run-on sentence of that length. What are these actions I'm talking about? Well, one is being pure and guarding my heart, because I don't want there to by anything superficial and jaded about our relationship. Others would include improving my relationships with my family that I live with now, learning skills that I need in order to be prepared to live away from my parents (read: cooking.), praying for him, and trusting his (and my) Creator not to let us down, because He never has.
This is where the analogy stretches itself out even further. It occurred to me that "love before first sight" should really be the story of my entire life. Because, from an eternal perspective, this is really just another waiting period.
The purchase of my salvation has already been made; my future has been created by the God I've come to trust while I'm here. Earthly reality, for me, should be a time of preparation for and anticipation of the time when I will finally see my Savior- an experience that will far surpass anything I'll ever experience in this life.
"Dear friends, now we are children of God, and what we will be has not yet been made known. But we know that when he appears, we shall be like him, for we shall see him as he is. Everyone who has this hope in him purifies himself, just as he is pure."
~1 John 3:2-3
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