Confessions of a Non-Piano-Playing Pastor's Wife

Today, exactly 5.3 seconds after I woke up, my 9-year-old was on my heels.

"Hey, so when we gonna go on another awesome bike ride?  How about now?"

"Now?" I whined, "I just woke up.  I haven't even had my coffee yet."

"Yes, but it gives you ENERGY," he says, sashaying around the room, "and it helps one think better."

That "one" would be namely him, the quintessential "Wiggly Willie" student mentioned in Cathy Duffy's book, 100 Top Picks for Homeschool Curriculum. 

Speaking which of, I just finished filling out papers to homeschool both of my dear children next year.  The whole time, I was strangely compelled to move my pen across the paper, I was also protesting to God all of the 3,000 reasons why this is not a good idea.  Oh, ok, so really I could only think of about three.  But trust me, they are very GOOD reasons.

In all of my forty...oh, let's not go there.  In all of my many years on this planet, I have never once aspired to homeschool.  It's not that I don't like kids.  I do.  I've spent whole days at school with a room full of kids.  Just not my own.

"This is not a funny joke, Lord," I remind him, looking upwards.  I don't think He's laughing.

Anyway, back to the bike ride.

"Oh, ok.  Just let me drink some orange juice."

It will help Caleb settle down, I tell myself.  And besides, I'm trying to get healthier.  Exercise is good.

"Mom, see that little holder there on your bike?  You could put a water bottle in there."

"I don't need a water bottle.  Let's just go, I'm good."   My mind is not on water.  It's on coffee.

"Mom, last time you got tired..."

"C'mon, let's go."

We fly down the first hill.  The wind is blowing in my direction.  It actually feels good.  I start thinking maybe this won't be as bad as yesterday's ride...  Ooops, there's a moving truck.  I've got to break quickly and stop this thing.  Scccreeech!  Did I mention the bike seat is too high for me?  I hop down just in time before it tips over.  There went my momentum.

Up a hill.  "Huff, huff, huff."  Down a few more streets.

"Caleb, there's lots of traffic.  Let's go over to Walker Park and ride for a bit.  Hey, be careful of that truck."

Scccreeech.  "Mom, pay attention.  You almost got run over by that truck!" 

Oh be quiet!  If you were in school, I wouldn't be getting run over.  I'd still be in bed right now, you, pint-sized tool of Satan.

Around the lake a few times.  "Huff, huff, huff."  Back through the neighborhood, uphill.  I have to stop midway.

"Wait, I'm tired," I whine, "I need-a-rest.  Huff, huff, huff."

"I told you to bring water."

I'm thinking this is WAY harder than the workouts I've done with my friend, Carla.  Why, oh, why haven't I called her to go to the gym?  I study the house in front of me carefully, noting that it reminds me of Jasmine's palace.  I wonder if Aladdin is in there.  Maybe he'll give me a magic carpet ride back home.  I consider knocking. 

"Ok.  Let's go," I tell Caleb, realizing I'm utterly dependent on the navigational skills of a 9-year-old, since I am clueless as to where I am.  "And take the shortest route home, or I'm going to make this the longest school day ever!!"

Ah, finally home.  While Caleb is working on his morning work, I am zipping up a nutritional breakfast of yogurt smoothies.  But my frozen strawberries are not cooperating.  They have hardened to a rock solid mass of  ice.  I am not happy.  I slam them down on the cutting board in an effort to shatter the mass.  Nothing happens.  I don't want to microwave it, because I want to save some of the strawberries for later, so I try running half of the ice block under hot water.  It's not working.

For some reason, I start thinking about all those people at church who regularly run 10k races for fun.  No matter how hard I try, I cannot imagine Elizabeth Metzger feuding with frozen strawberries.  I pick up my knife sharpener and stab my strawberries with a vengeance.  Darn, Elizabeth Metzger!  Stab, stab, stab.

HALT!  Wait a minute.  Have you lost your MIND?  For goodness sake, did you forget WHO YOU ARE!  You're a pastor's wife.  You cannot stab church members.  That's only for deacons.  

Finally winning against the strawberries, I whip up two smoothies, pour them into glasses, and head for the dining room.  Today's Bible lesson is on Luke 4.  We talk about the gospel, and I tell him it means "good news"...

And all at once, I'm reminded afresh of the significance of this good...no, better than good news.  It's almost-too-wonderful-to-comprehend news.  Because when Jesus died on that cross two thousand years ago, he did more than make a way for us to get to heaven 'someday'.  He also made a way for us to live our every-day-here-and-now-nitty-gritty imperfect 'todays' in perfect peace.

No, I'm not the picture-perfect piano-playing pastor's wife.  No, I can't run a 10k race, though I might be able to walk one.  And no, I'm not a Michelle Duggar baby-machine-home-schooling dynamo.  Not only do I fall short of God's glory, but I often fall short of my own ideals.  But for all that I am and all that I'm not, His grace is enough.  That's really good news.

Lord, Jesus, thank you for dying to achieve the perfection I'm never going to experience or attain while on this earth.  Forgive me for being impatient with my son, my strawberries, and myself.  Help me not to lose sight of the gospel in the mundane experiences of daily life.  And despite my shortcomings, help my children to know and understand the great depths of your love for them. Teach them that ALL of life is in You. Lord.  Amen. 

A Review of Wicked

A couple of months ago, I took my daughter to see the Broadway musical Wicked.  I wasn't planning to go.  I had never seen it before, and never thought much about it.  I really enjoy Broadway, but tickets are expensive and...well...life just seems to get in the way.  Besides that, pastors' wives aren't really drawn to wickedness.  We see enough of that in real life...lol...we don't need to "pay" to see it.  But Abby heard about it from her friends, and she really wanted to go.  I saw a special sale on tickets, and thinking it would be a good potential mother/daughter bonding time, I bought them.

The stubborn and courageous Elphaba (Jennifer Dinoia) 
chooses to forfeit her dream of public esteem rather than
 support the Wizard's deceptive schemes and tactics.  

My daughter loved it.  I think I loved it more.  Wicked, for anybody who - like me - has been living under a rock, is very loosely based on the novel of the same title.  It's a prequel to the popular children's book, The Wizard of Oz by L. Frank Baum.  The musical's subtitle sums it up well:  The Untold Story of the Witches of Oz.  The story recounts the young adult years of Elphaba (the Wicked Witch of the West) and Glinda (the Good Witch).  It tells of their surprising friendship, and how they grew into the women we perceive them to be when Dorothy makes her whirling entrance into Oz.

The key word is perceive.  The writers of Wicked masterfully remind us that people aren't always who we "think" they are.  A highly admired, charismatic leader can be a manipulative fraud whose public image doesn't match his true character.  (The Wonderful Wizard isn't so wonderful.)  A seemingly good person might not have good motives.  (Glinda is far more concerned with impressing others than with actually being good.)  And people who threaten the solidarity of such charades might pay for it.  (Elphaba earns the title "Wicked Witch" as such...) 

Wicked also explores the themes of good/evil and female friendship.  At the beginning of the story, Glinda & Elphaba, are college roommates who loathe each other.  Understandably so, since they are complete opposites.  ...Or are they?  Glinda "the Good" is perky, friendly, and very, very funny.  Although likable, she is also annoyingly self-centered, shallow, and willing to compromise her integrity for the sake of popularity.  Elphaba, on the other hand, is serious, stubborn, and prone to "fly off the handle" ~ which gets her into a lot of trouble.  On the other hand, she is smart, passionate, and authentic.  Neither girl is all good, nor all wicked.  Rather, they are a complex mix of both.  They are drawn together by the unique strengths each brings to their relationship.

The characters in Wicked are SO well-crafted, they seem as real as the girls next door!  I would guess there are many, many people who relate to Glinda or Elphaba or both.  Personally, I resonated with Elphaba.  I adored her tenacious need to be real, even when it threatened her very human desire to be accepted.  I loved that she stood true to her convictions, despite paying a very dear cost.  And I cheered her on as she found the courage to "fly", despite the constant naysayers that plagued her life from birth.  I think there is something powerful about connecting to another, even if it's a fictional character created in a writer's head.  Stephen Schwartz & Winnie Holzman did a marvelous job giving the gift of understanding to their audience.

I think the most valuable takeaway from Wicked is in its life lessons.  Not everything is morally positive (there are a few, a-hem, implied messages I could do without.)  But there is some good, solid advice there ~ particularly for the teenage girls who come to see the show in droves. 

...because I knew you, I have been changed for good.

• Learn and grow from your mistakes.
• Ask for forgiveness and grant it to others.
• Stand up for what it right; you won't regret it.
• Refuse to let other people discourage or define you.
• Don't use your upbringing as an excuse for who you are or choose to become.   And finally,
• Think twice before hastily dismissing a potential friend just because she's different.  Sometimes these are the people who help us most to grow and "change us for good".