Writer's Block

So, I haven't posted in a few days, and honestly this is the very reason why I was ever hesitant to start a blog in the first place . . . pressure.

Ok, so I know what you're thinking. "Get a hold of yourself Edwards. This is a blog. And more than that, this is your blog, the blog of a twenty-something girl in Gibsonia, PA that just began not even a week ago," (and honestly who else besides family members is reading it?). I totally joined your train of thought until a few days ago. Then, I "met" Lorna. Everything changed.

Who is Lorna you ask? Lorna is my new blogging friend from Finland. Yes, Finland. She was kind enough to post a comment on Monday and quite honestly, I was flabberghasted. How in the world does a woman half-way across the world hear and read about my little blog in Gibsonia, PA?!? And if Lorna is reading this little blog, what other Scandinavian bloggers are reading? And if Scandinavia is now reading, what about Balkan bloggers or the South East Asian constituency? And once we've gone over to Asia, it's only a hop, skip, and a jump to Oceania and before I know it, I've created a web of six degrees of people that span the globe who may or may not be reading this blog and all I can think to write about is how it was unusually warm today and how I've never seen a fjord and how our top news story in Pittsburgh was the death of Jerome Bettis' father (and as much as we all care for the Bettis family, and any Steeler news in general, why would a Blogger in Phuket), which results in long, run-on, stream-of-consciousness sentences that say nothing and result in . . . pressure.

(In case you haven't noticed, I can tend to be a bit prone to analytic hyperbole, allowing myself to create situations that may or may not really exist, but forcing myself to live and figure out solutions to those problems as if they were the most pressing issues known to man.)

All this to say: Lorna, thank you for posting a comment and opening my eyes once again to how big this world is and how big our God is to not only place us all together in His family but to intimately know each of us as if we were the only ones that existed. Happy birthday and I'm sorry that my profundity today is sadly lacking. And to whomever else may be reading this simple little blog (all six of you), thanks for your patience and support as I blindly move leeward in Gibsonia. :-)

NO Holy Night

So, with the official start of the Christmas season, I am so happy to announce that it is now time to once again bring out my all time favorite version of the beloved Christmas carol, "Oh Holy Night." This is one gorgeous tune, that I've heard so many different talented singers sing or musicians play. This particular version, however, was passed along to me by a friend last year and, well, I'll never be able to hear the song in the same way again. Hope you enjoy it as well! :-)

Hmmm. I've tried for two days now to figure out how to put an MP3 on this here blog. I seem to be unsuccessful. Any help would be greatly appreciated! Sorry. :-(

Sesame Sentiments

When I was a little girl, my parents surprised my sister and I with a great delight: tickets to Sesame Street Live! I had been seeing the commercials on television for weeks and desperately wanted to go. (The only thing that could possibly top it would be tickets to Muppet Babies Live (which I don't think even existed) and that was only because I wanted to see what Nanny's face looked like above those darn green and white stockings.)

It was the night of the show, with great tickets at the Civic Arena and it was, indeed, marvelous. Watching my favorite characters singing and dancing, eating cotton candy and popcorn for dinner, and waving my $8.95 blue, fiber-optic wispy flashlight in the air was quite literally a dream come true. And so it was with great shock that as the show concluded and the thousands of small children clapped with glee and left the arena with smiles permanently plastered on their faces, that my parents looked over at me and I was sobbing. Yes, sobbing.

They were understandably confused as they had watched me experience sheer euphoria for the previous 90 minutes. What more could I possibly want? And that was just it. It was wonderful. Perfect. More than I could have imagined. And now it was over. Finished. Good night. They tried to console me and wondered to each other what kind of strange child comes to Sesame Street Live and leaves sobbing.

And so why am I reminiscing about Big Bird and Grover tonight (this was pre-Elmo days, remember)? I guess I am feeling a bit of deja-vu, as I suffer from post-Thanksgiving withdrawl. I could never figure out why adults always used to say how much they loved Thanksgiving. I always thought it was a waste of a holiday when there were no presents involved. This year, however, I get it more than ever. Thanksgiving was truly a delight at the Edwards home. My sisters (and new brother) came home along with all my cousins (and even a new second cousin that I hadn't seen in 15 years) and we enjoyed days full of pie, laughter, 24 (Season One), pie, sleeping, staying up late, and then we'd get up and eat some more pie. It was wonderful. Perfect. More than I could have imagined. And now it's over.

I don't pretend to be sad about it. Maybe it's partially the fact that I can't believe the writers of 24 would toy with our emotions the way that they did, or perhaps it has to do w/ the disappointment of not being able to enjoy my favorite team (Steelers) and favorite sport this afternoon and I was reduced to console myself by watching curling. But more than anything, I'm feeling the disappointment of an end. The end of a wonderful gift of love and fellowship and rest, and I confess that there's a part of me that hates the end of these delights so much that I don't want to ever enjoy them, thereby avoiding the pain of the end. I know that's not the answer, however.

God created these gifts. He designed us for fellowship, rest, laughter, dreams, and He delights to give us these gifts through our families, friends, and opportunities that only He can create. Yet, even in the joy of those gifts there's a part of us that still mourns the end, that feels an ache returning to the reality that things are not the way God intended. So how do we respond?

I suppose I'm learning to rejoice in the gift, to allow myself to hope and rest and live in every moment with which God chooses to bless me. And at the end of these moments, I will take my ache to my Father, allowing Him to complete and fulfill as only He can, and look forward to the day when there where there will be no end to His glory and gifts. And what a day that will be. Probably even better than Thanksgiving 2006 and Sesame Street Live combined. :-) He's a good Father, isn't He?

Leewards

So the title of this blog might seem a little funny, but actually there's a method to the madness, and like most other things in my life, I owe it (the blog name) to my mother.

Leeward is a nautical term, defined as "moving toward the quarter toward which the wind blows." And, coincidentally, it sounds like "Lee's words" (my initials being LEE, Leah Emily Edwards). Now moving in the direction of the wind can be a good or bad thing depending on what kind of wind is blowing.

Certain winds can be strong and destructive, easy to blow a ship to and fro and destroy it if it's not anchored to something stronger. On the other hand, if the anchor always remains in place the sailboat may be able to catch a good wind, but it will never be able to leave that place and journey to a new destination as it was designed.

It's my heart's desire to be anchored to the Truth and Person of Jesus Christ, tethered to His unchanging character in the midst of winds of change and circumstance that this world brings. I would be remiss, however, and sadly never achieve my purpose if I remained anchored forever, never allowing the Winds of His spirit to steer me into the adventure He's prepared.

And so, this blog . . . I guess I just think of it as my "captain's log," a record of my journey, the mundane and the significant, the successes and the failures, the storms and the sweet winds that mark the adventure. Journey with me as you wish, and I would value your insights from your travels as well. Together, we will head leeward, in the direction of where the Wind blows.