Friday, August 07, 2009

Twitter to the Western Wall

To visit Israel. Pause. A sigh. I would love to walk the cobbled streets, amble along the shops, visit and touch the history worn walls of Jerusalem. See the Garden of Gethsemane. Go to the different gates. See the whole country. But most of all, put on a shawl, a prayer shawl, say a prayer, write my petitions on paper and squeeze it in a crevice in the Western Wall. I just read, I can do the latter, without actually going to Jerusalem. A young man has decided to receive tweets, print out our prayers, and insert them in the Western Wall for us. The Lord must have moved his heart.

What would I pray? Even so come Lord Jesus. That He would find us faithful. That He would find me faithful. To lead my family and my self to sit at his feet and look into His face. For the peace of Jerusalem and revival in our country.

I guess I already went over the limit for twitter, so I guess I better cut back. If you want to twitter your prayer go to the link and write your prayer. There is a good young man on the other side who is going to read your prayer.


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Post note: It is interesting but when I got to the moment of truth, I didn't really write what I had thought. Though all those things above were noble requests, that is not what I did. I had only one request. The rest was different. You must realize that you only have 140 spaces to write on so on Twitter you must let your words be few. A more direct link to The Kotel.

Wednesday, August 05, 2009

Why I haven't written lately or Making Lemonade

You know how they say, if they give you lemons, make lemonade. Well, that is what I have been doing! My lawn mower is not working and frankly, I don't have a bunch of money to spare and the grass doesn't care. It keeps on growing.

As it kept growing I checked out the mower. Not the oil; it has some. Not the air filter; I shook it out. NOT the spark plug; I bought a new one and replaced the old one. I think it is the carburetor. Do mowers have carburetors? I want to write that word with an a instead of an e (like rator) how it sounds.

Anyway, the grass keeps growing. So I thought a while and figured I could use the trimmer. I have a huge back yard. Well, huge for me. It must be at least 100 feet to the fence, maybe 75. I don't know but it is huge for me. So I thought I would tackle the job in thirds, a third a day, but actually I got two thirds done yesterday, and I just finished the back yard. I am so happy and I still have my back in good shape. Then tomorrow I will tackle the front yard which is desperately calling me, because as I said, the grass keeps growing.

By the way, I haven't been mowing the grass non stop. I have been painting. I had some Yupo paper that I bought at Cheap Joe's in Charlotte when I went to Billy Graham's childhood home. A great place to visit! Oh, my, I digressed again. I went off on a tangent. Not good writing. I hope none of my students see this. Not a good example, but it is a good example of stream of consciousness. Just letting your thoughts flow from one thought to another. I am delaying. That is all I am doing. I have been painting with Yupo and did a lovely Trinitaria or bougainvillea in deep fushia. I'll put it up soon.

I also did a huge painting of a cross, this on a regular 140 lb cold pressed full size sheet. That is a story in itself. I rarely use a full watercolor sheet. I have always been sort of afraid to paint something without value. To waste the paper, you understand. This paper is not inexpensive if you know what I mean. But I have been painting bookmarks and some of them, I have really liked and some of my friends have, too. So I ventured to try one of the bookmarks in a full sheet. It is a cross and it made me cry. The crying happened when I added what are supposed to be Christ's drops of blood at the bottom of the cross, they fell so realistically on the paper. Huge crimson droplets, dropping like a thud just like those huge drops at the beginning of a rain shower on the windshield. Just like that, but red, dripping, dropping down on the paper. It emotionally took me to the cross in Golgotha where his blood did drip and drop on the ground. I couldn't help but think of his sacrifice for our, for my salvation. Sometimes we sing of the cross and the blood, without any reality of what it cost.

Sunday, August 02, 2009

The Chorus, Les Choristes

Moving, beautiful, ironic, and inspiring. All these words describe The Chorus or Les Choristes, that was twice nominated for Best Foreign Language Film, as well as won the Austin, Chicago, and Heartland Film Festivals. After seeing it, it is clear as to why. I had not seen a movie that moved so quickly, so unexpectedly, in a very long time. Showcased in France, the movie itself is in French, with English or Spanish subtitles as you choose, and is easily understood. You feel as if you actually understood every single word they were saying. Situated in an orphanage/boy's home during or shortly after the second world war, since there is talk of the resistance, the story demonstrates the good one single person can generate in a dire situation. Clement Mathieu makes a difference in thirty so lives in an otherwise corrupt and dismal setting by starting a chorus in the school. This decision changes things. Yet many things stay the same. Therefore comes the crux. I can tell you no more except the music is angelic and the story intriguing. Even when you think you know all the details of how the story ends, the audience is surprised with an even greater unfolding of the facts at the end. It is a fascinating story and well worth the viewing. In the style of that great French master Guy de Maupaussant, and "The Necklace."