Vox Lucens

I have spent most of this week more-or-less despairing about the futility of trying to get everything done. Projects are no longer looming overhead; they have in fact descended, and are sitting right on top of me, putting me in an uncomfortable position of smooshedness.

So the fact that I’m writing about having a “happy law school day” is a bit of an accomplishment. I’m trying to finish this post before the euphoria wears off and reality sets back in.

But first, get a lot of sleep. I went to bed early last night, telling myself it was so I could get up early this morning. This morning, laying in bed, I decided that the most reasonable course of action was to laugh at the whole world and go back to sleep. So I did.

Second, once your sleep is done, kick the day off with some coffee. Then, enjoy the feeling as coffee kicks back. Transfer that kick into a page of notes on whatever inane topic you are trying to think about.

Third, pick a day that storms. When I drove to Starbucks for said coffee, it was a pleasant day. When I left said Starbucks with said page of inane notes, the day had transformed itself into an unbelievably gorgeous thunderstorm. As I drove through the downpour I had to keep reminding myself that the rattling coming from my engine block was sympathetic vibration responding to the thunder’s crash, not transmission problems.

Fourth, find your hideout from the storm. After getting soaked, I am now firmly ensconced in my weekend hideout, to wit, Panera Bread. Watching the storm is better with a sourdough breadbowl of French onion soup, and so is law school.

Finally, you have to have the music. I got a new CD a couple of days ago with one of my favorite pieces of all time, the Cavatina from The Deer Hunter. I fell in love with that piece the first time I heard it on public radio, and after listening to it more times than I can count, I still love it. David Russell plays it with an amazing lyrical quality that brings out the emotion that the piece is supposed to have.

There. I have spilled all of my secrets.

(And if you care to share my joy, you can check out this CD. The five traditional Venezuelan pieces are also especially delightful.)

Just a couple weeks ago, in Thailand, the children of the Freedom House Orphanage signed this Karen Bible for me. In talking to them, Mercy Htoo gave me one of my funnier memories.

I had the chance to talk to her, as she had good English, and asked her story. She was born in a refugee camp, and had spent all of her 15 years there, except for time where she was in CFI’s vocational school. After finding a bit out about her, she wanted to find out a bit about me, and started by asking if I had any children. When I told her no, and that I was single, she looked at me with eyes full of sympathy, and said, with the compassionate sincerity that only a teenage girl can muster, “Aww, I’m sorry.”

I hope that I didn’t offend her by laughing, but she was able to get information out of me that I don’t normally give, viz., my age. It was necessary to convince her that being single was really OK.

In just the few short weeks since talking to her, Mercy Htoo’s life has changed almost unimaginably. She has become the first of the children out of the Freedom House Orphanage to be resettled to the United States.

Friends, I cannot even imagine this. I have to wonder whether she’s even ridden a bus before, much less taken an airplane ride to the opposite side of the world and a brand new culture and a brand new life. She will be living with people she doesn’t know in a brand new location in a whole new world.

Pray for her, please, and pray for those that will follow her. Pray that they would get through the mess of bureaucracy easily, and pray for the families that will be caring for them. Especially, please, please pray that their spiritual heritage will be reinforced at every step along the way.

For more info–

CFI’s Press Release

My Thoughts on Ambassadors

Ah, it was a very long time ago that “Summer Reading” meant devouring a Hardy Boys story in an hour, sitting on the porch with G.A. Henty, or even just reading whatever random science textbook I happened to get my hands on. And it seems like even longer ago that I was able to celebrate my love of reading by eating free pizza courtesy of Pizza Hut’s “Book It” program.

A book in one hand, a slice of Pizza Hut pan meatlovers in the other–now that is gatherin’ round the good stuff.

At any rate, courtesy of my senior seminar paper, here are the two most recent additions to my summer reading list.

Courtesy of CHBC’s College and Career Scavenger Hunt.

Those of you that know me know that I love music. It would perhaps be accurate to say that I “live on” music–and though I have little time these days to do the musical things I used to do, it is still a huge part of my life.

It should come as no surprise, then, that there is very little I like better about visiting our orphans than hearing them sing. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve wished that I could get American kids to sing the way they do–I’d be a famous kid’s choir conductor, if there is such a thing. They sing with enthusiasm, with verve, and with a childlike passion.

I’ve already written about a couple of songs they sang on our last trip (”God Will Make a Way” and Psalm 137), but now I want to share a song with you. To see a full translation and introduction, see my Ambassadors post, but to just listen to their music, click here.

Or, Trial Ad in DC.

It was a quick turnaround, an exhausted U-Turn towards the hope of knocking out a significant amount of work. Through sickness, exhaustion, and excessive amounts of tourism, though, we prevailed! Thanks to Katie, Jordana, and Montana, who all put up with my grumpiness, we knocked out four lessons worth of Trial Ad in two frantic days.

Spending the 4th in DC was definitely a plus, especially in the company of cool classmates.

And after it was all said and done, we hit DC again for a wonderfully witty Capitol Steps concert.

After speaking on Sunday and hanging out with my family, I’m back in SC.

Still haven’t found my brain.