Asher.

If you've talked to me in these last years about literature, you will have surely heard me tell you about Asher Lev, the inspiring creation of Chaim Potok. He is an observant Hasidic Jew who is also an artist. I am halfway through The Gift of Asher Lev for the 2nd time in 8 months. The idea for "The Cave of Now" comes from this book. This book is worth every second of your life that you put into it.

The section I am in now is when Asher is asked to address a yeshiva class about art. He starts with simple questions about why we draw, what we draw, etc... but eventually gets to the deeper events of art. He says, "Art happens when what is seen becomes mixed with the inside of a person who is seeing it." [p.135] It is interpretation of the world around us. He drew a picture of a ram in several different styles, emphasizing different parts of the ram that the artist might see and interpret. It is amazing to think that we each have this power to interpret. I may not be an artist who paints or sings, but I write. What I write is a reflection of how the world around me hits me.

A few pages later, Asher connects this to the idea of the cave of now. A drawing. A painting. Capture something forever. Can see it all at one time. No future, no past. Only a perpetual this-moment, only nowness. While a painting or a piece of music or a passage of writing is a rendering of the artist's "now," it can also be interpreted in the future. Those of us in present time can only attempt to know the intention of the author, singer or painter from 100 years ago, let alone 2,000! And yet, God gave me a Helper to enlighten my mind toward correct interpretation of His Word.

Oh, I am loving Asher for how he helps me think about life. Chaim does not give me all of the answers, but invites me to get dirt under my nails and I dig through it all. It's good.

His First Day in Heaven

The sky is so blue in this arctic freezer. My clothes make no effort to stop the frigidness from stabbing my body ruthlessly and forever. It makes me feel alive, though painfully. The heat in my car, though new, only makes it feel like a drafty hunting shack. Even the sun looks like it has a layer of ice surrounding it.

The first time I've ever read Jack refer to his father as "dad." Dad has moved on to a place where he can see Jesus face to face. My mind cannot fathom what it is like to lose your best friend of so many years. I did not get to meet Guil, although I feel like I know him - the parts of him that Jack has inherited and become.

There is sadness, knowing that you won't be able to talk about the latest race or revel in the newest soaring stock. He won't be participating in any more coffee clutches. There are so many memories to wade through. The small things, you'll miss. There is stress and exhaustion, thinking about all that must go into grieving and planning for life after dad. eventually. How will mother cope? How will you? But woven through each of these layers is vibrant joy, like sunshine -- Dad did not waste his life! He spent it on the One... And there is more joy, for he is with Him now! He can see Jesus face to face.

It is odd today. Odd for us, but even more odd for him... His first day in Heaven. ... I think I have the wrong size wings. ... When's lunch? ... Whoa, look at all those stars down there! He can see, think and move more clearly than he ever has before. He is not hindered by sin. What joy there is in this day!! He is fully alive, though for us, it is painful.

Infuse, the End of an Era

I stepped into the chapel after most had left and turned on all the lights. As I stood in the back, I recounted all that God had infused into me at this camp. I was trained in life and ministry here, more than in any classroom. It is so home to me.

[click] I turn one light out. I think about how terrified I was at the prospect of cabin-leadering as a junior in high school. What if my campers don't like me? or listen to me? What? - I have to plan a devotion? now, 6? God took over and I learned.

[click.] There was a strange feeling in me as I left my first week of being activities director. Could God have more for me here? Somehow, the answer came YES, but it was very subtle and quiet.

[click.] Two summers of programming taught me more about myself, about what my body can do and about what happens when my body shuts down from exhaustion. I learned even more as I gave up control to the Master of the Universe. I learned to nap on a musty chapel pew surrounded by rowdy campers, manage many staff members and lead large group games. As I play the snapshots in my mind, I see campers loving one another, meeting Christ, and struggling through life together. I see lots of smiles and laughs.

[click.] It is nearly dark now. I moved to Austria, left with a hole the size of Riverside in my heart. I ached for a place to use these gifts that I had developed and been so affirmed in. It's super hard to lead in a different language. :o) I wipe the tears from my face as I think about the hours I spent on the bridge over the river during my re-entry into the States. Those were sweet times in the arms of Jesus, weeping for the hole in my heart now shaped like Austria. I was soothed again by the gentle rushing water flowing between the large rocks.

[click.] One last programming gig before the full time program director takes her post. I have spent so much energy for this camp... wanting so much that Christ would be seen and magnified in it. I was infused with God's love and grace this weekend. My weakness only made His strength more evident.

I turn, back again and I wave sliding slowly backwards as the last click clicks off...

The end of an era, and it's so hard to say goodbye.