I've been incredibly negligent with my blog lately - as you've noticed - or haven't noticed since you've had no reason to look at my blog.  I have had several ideas for topics, but I didn't follow up on my ideas when they came to me, so they are temporarily misplaced somewhere inside my head at this point.  I'm sure they will return sometime . . . .  In the meantime, I thought I would just write.  I am caught up in a period of tremendous transition and indecision in my life right now.  Torn between practicalities and dreams - between what appears to be "playing it safe" and "taking a risk."  In some ways, however, the harder course would be to stay practical and "safe" because it would mean more patience and discipline than jumping out to pursue my other desires.  My dreams have been deferred for so long (yes, I know, "long" is very relative - others have waited much longer for their dreams than me) that I am impatient.  Of course, I am thinking of Langston Hughes' poem now that the phrase came to me:

A Dream Deferred

What happens to a dream deferred?

Does it dry up
like a raisin in the sun?

Or fester like a sore--
and then run?

Does it stink like rotten meat?
Or crust and sugar over--
like a syrupy sweet?

Maybe it just sags
like a heavy load

Or does it just explode?

Mine has definitely festered and sagged and crusted and a lot of other things over the last few years :).  Perhaps it is time to explode?  Or will waiting just a little bit longer, being just a little more patient, increase the impact when it bursts forth? 

Happy New Year!

On Friday night, my husband and I finally saw the long-awaited The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe.  Many parts of the movie emotionally moved me, and I am still reflecting on the story and its impact on me.

One of the statements Aslan makes that has replayed in my head a few times is that once you are a king or queen of Narnia, you are always a king or queen of Narnia.  Yet, in order for the children to become kings and queens in the first place, Aslan had to sacrifice his own life (and be resurrected, of course) and defeat the witch.  Most people are aware of the spiritual allegory of the story, but the comfort, the reassurance, the security of that statement that they will always be kings and queens of Narnia really struck me as significant.  It is a profound reminder that we are all kings and queens under the power of the King of Kings, and His death and resurrection not only covered our sins but allowed us access to all of God's blessings.  According to Romans 5:17, we are to reign as kings (or queens) in life through Christ.  We have the power, the victory, the resources, etc., all provided through Christ.  When Aslan walks away after the children are crowned, he is not abandoning them nor has he left them alone.  They may not physically see him for a while, but he has prepared and provided everything for them - it is now merely waiting for them to walk into it - into the prepared places, into the prosperity, into the peace and joy, into a life of abundance and blessing. 

As we begin this new year, I will pray for you as I will for myself and my family that we will remember the sacrifice that Christ made, the provision available to us through His grace, and the blessings we have access to through faith.  I pray that we all remember our places in the kingdom and reign in life as the kings and queens that we have been created to be, walking in victory and authority in every area. 

Prayers and blessings, 
Queen Naomi

   I realize that I have not blogged in quite some time, but I think most of you understand how easy it is to get so caught up in life that we fail to set aside time for reflecting on the past or envisioning the future.  Of course, I suppose that at times we go to the opposite extreme of consuming all of our time with reflecting and dreaming .  Now, Lewis fan that I am, it is very sad to admit that I have not yet seen the new Narnia film that has been released.  I am extremely excited about it (and actually plan to see it tomorrow), but it just hasn't fit into that holiday schedule yet.

   In my anticipation to see the movie, I have been mentally replaying scenes that I can easily recall from the books that I read so long ago.  The memorable scenes, of course, include the finding of the wardrobe, the meeting with the half-goat/half-man, the meeting with the witch, the bitter cold winter land, the brutal death of Aslan, and his triumphant resurrection.  But it all begins with that wardrobe, which has fascinated me since the first time I read the book as a child.  How is it that Lucy happens upon something so magical, so wonderful, so adventurous, so beyond imagination, seemingly by pure accident?  Was there another way to Narnia?  Was their destiny in Narnia dependent upon her hiding in the wardrobe on that bleak day?  Or would they have been guided there by some unseen force regardless of whether it was through a wardrobe or an attic?  Perhaps there was another way to Narnia, but had the children arrived at a later date, they would have missed out on part of their destiny.

   Although the children had destinies to fulfill in the world that they had grown up in thus far, they had a destiny to fulfill in Narnia as well, something that would affect their lives in both realms to a greater extent than they initially (if ever) realized.  It was the act of walking through that one door and into an unknown - and even unwelcoming - wilderness land that carried them into their purposes for life.  As much as I would love to literally happen upon a wardrobe that would transport me to another world to experience great adventure, I fully realize that the wardrobe is more symbolic in nature (darn, I really want to find one, though!).  And perhaps, in life's journey, we must walk through more than one wardrobe in our pursuit of God's plans.  I know that many battles and experiences await me that will shape me even more into the person He's created me to be.  And I await those experiences with great excitement and anticipation in spite of the challenging wilderness and opposition I may face.

   So, where do we find our wardrobes?  I wish I had the answer.  I believe that the answer will be different for each one of us - as unique as each one of us.  I think it would be a good exercise to draw a wardrobe and decorate the wardrobe to suit your personality and your callings.  Then, mentally and emotionally (and prayerfully), take a step of faith and picture yourself walking into - and through - that wardrobe to the life you've been called to live.  We can conjure a lot of crazy ways to reach our goals or carry out our callings, but I believe that God sometimes has a direct route that we miss because we lack the faith - and perhaps we even lack a sense of adventure or willingness to take a risk - and so we continue to plod along on our own paths, saying "one day" this or that will come to pass.  Instead of spending years digging an underground tunnel from the prison you may be living in, try the door.  I believe God's already given us the key, and the doors are wide open for us to walk into.  I haven't completed the wardrobe exercise myself yet because it came to me as I was writing (although some of you may think it's cheesy, and that's okay), but I'll let you know how it turns out.

In the meantime, happy questing to all of you wardrobe hunters (including me)!  And don't forget your coats.

 

Perhaps we can sing along to the Veggie Tales song ("Where is my Hairbrush?") as we are questing . . . Oh, where is my wardrobe?  Oh, where is my wardrobe?  Oh where oh where oh where oh where oh where oh where oh where IS MY WARDROBE?

   It all started with a chair - an ordinary office chair, broken and abandoned, then rescued from its demise to be placed in my classroom as a spare for my students.  It's a rolling, spinning chair that's lost its back, so in reality, it is now just a short stool that rolls and spins.  I call it the swirly chair or the spinning chair or the swivel chair.  Its name changes daily as I ask students to stop spinning and return to their assigned seats.  Of course, it is really a torturous thing, I suppose, to have a perfectly good spinning chair and then expect students to stay in their seats and not roll across the room in the middle of class.  I understand.  I love to roll and spin in office chairs. 
   So today, I was inspired to set aside the last five minutes of class to allow students to take turns spinning on the chair - "spin time."  Other students, of course, readily volunteered to spin the victims.  Now, to truly picture this effectively, you have to realize that I teach seniors, so these are big seventeen- and eighteen-year-old boys (I don't think any girls volunteered, come to think of it).  One of the first students to go for a spin in my third period class was a varsity football player.  One of his buddies stepped up to the plate to give him a major spin experience.  I probably should have told his buddy to stop sooner, but I did spare him his life.  When he rose from the chair, he was stumbling and clutching his stomach.  He leaned over the trash can for a minute or two, but all contents remained inside - thankfully. 
   In spite of this (in fact, while he was leaning over the trash can), the next student came up for a spin in front of the class.  Brave soul.  A couple of spins later, I was not surprised when the students began insisting that I take a spin in the chair as well.  I knew how easily that could "spin" out of control (ha ha) because I know my students.  But I caved in and decided that it really would be fun.  I might be the teacher, but I like to spin in chairs as much as anyone.  So I accepted the challenge, and I was definitely dizzy.  When I got up, I stumbled a little, my eyes flickered back and forth as though I was still spinning, and I felt a little light-headed.  Then fourth period came along.  Last five minutes of class, I promised them the same treat - spins in the chair for anyone who dared.  And, of course, they once again insisted that I take a spin as well.  Fourth period topped third period's spin by a mile (or perhaps by a thousand miles).  I could hypothesize that with each successive spin, the trauma to your senses and equilibrium are compounded and the recovery time doubled, but fifty minutes had elapsed since my first spin, so I don't think that made any difference.  Perhaps it is a student's dream to try to make a teacher sick or pass out or look dizzy and drunk. 
   As I gripped the sides of the chair beneath me and pulled up my legs, positioning myself for the maximum spin experience, I closed my eyes this time.  With my eyes closed, I was still well aware of the movement and the noise and the students grabbing my shoulders to make me go faster and faster.  But I was relaxed.  I could feel it beginning to affect me - a little lightheadedness creeping through my brain.  But there was also a freeing sensation as my body turned round and round and round and the chair moved across the floor simultaneously.  The unpredictable movements and lack of control were freeing because I did not have to make a decision about which direction to go or how fast or when or where.  I just trusted the one in control to take care of it.  When they noticed my eyes were closed, they cried out that I had to keep my eyes open, that I was cheating.  So, with my eyes open, I finished a spin that seemed eternal and tried to stay seated for a few moments.  They forced me to get up out of the chair, and it was for one obvious reason:  they didn't want the dizziness to wear off before they got to watch their teacher stumbling around the room.  So I gave in, pulled myself to my feet with the aid of a few students and tried to stand still for a minute.  I couldn't stand, so I literally stumbled forward to a desk that I immediately turned around to lean on.  I was so dizzy I could hardly see anything.  My eyes were flicking back and forth so fast, it was sickening; I tried to look at particular points in the room, but the room would not stay still.  My hands gripped the desk, and I held my eyes closed, smiling in spite of the almost nauseating sensations.  Even now, I can almost feel that reeling motion.  Had I allowed them to spin me much longer, I am convinced I would have either passed out or fallen to the floor when they got me off of the chair.  But I had fun. 
   To sit down in the chair and take a spin took a couple of risks or sacrifices on my part:  I had to sacrifice my pride and be willing to look ridiculous, and I had to take the risk of trusting my students.  I basically just had to let go.  I think many of us have a closet addiction to spinning in chairs.  It's like swinging really high at the park - there is a feeling of freedom in the air hitting your face, in the rhythm of the motion, and in the sense of being (almost) out of control.  To be honest, I not only accepted the dare to spin because I thought it'd be fun or didn't want to disappoint them, but I also wanted to set an example.  That seems a little odd, I know.  It's not that I think students need role models for chair spinning :).  But they do need to see adults who know how to have fun and who are willing to look (or act) a bit goofy in front of others.  I know that some of the students were sitting in their seats, thinking, I want to spin, but I don't want to look like an idiot.  Perhaps in front of my own peers, I would have been more reserved myself.  Perhaps in high school, I would have been one of those students who watched and laughed and silently wished I had the guts to get up and go for a spin.  I'm not sure if I really encouraged any of those individuals, but those students unwittingly motivated me to take a spin today - to let go of everything, hold on tight, trust others, and enjoy the mind-reeling adventure.  It's no crime to enjoy life and to let others see you take pleasure in the simple things life brings you.  So grab a few friends and a good spinning chair - and let go.  Take a spin.

The following poem was written in response to a couple of poems a friend of mine wrote, so the allusions to a wall and a dam having been torn down come from those preceding two poems.  However, apart from those references, I think the poem mostly stands on its own.  I need to rework it a little more, but here it is in its current form:

Well, I'm sure I will be writing longer and more introspective entries than this first one, but I honestly just wanted to get something posted and check it out.  I've visited the blogs of a couple of friends lately, and I finally decided to become a blogger myself.  So, here goes . . .