The Silence is Broken

What could entice me back to my blog, you ask? And even if you don't ask, you know I'm going to tell you, anyway.

First, I want to write about "Andrea Bocelli: Vivere Live in Tuscany," a 2007 concert PBS (WOSU-TV) is replaying as part of their annual fund-raising effort. God met me here last Friday when I played hookey from Celebrate Recovery, and now it is on again. His first guest was Kenny G. Ah, Kenny G. Proof of God's drawing me to worship Him while listening to this gorgeous music. I hope no one takes offense to my worshipping God while listening to "secular" music. Yes, the lyrics are mostly Italian, but the harmonies and drama speak for themselves of the creativity of our Lord. Another perk: Bocelli sings two duets with Heather Headley, who is a believer. The second, "The Prayer," makes me weep. I thank you, Abba-Father, for teaching me freedom in Christ, for allowing me moments of rest where I can focus on you after spending time with family and friends. Thank you for reviving my soul.

Second, I want to write about a telephone call I had last evening. I've been discovered! You knew it was bound to happen...all this talent wrapped in one compact package. Oh, not that kind of discovery? No, come back into reality, Nancy. The call actually came from one of the organizers of the Wyomissing High School Class of 1961 50th Reunion. Through the marvels of modern Internet investgative technology, and through the kindness of my ex-husband in giving my current phone number, I was found, even though I didn't know I had been lost. The reunion is in October. I plan to attend for the first time in the 50 years since graduation.

Our class was small, just 51. I was startled and saddened to hear the names of eight who were no longer alive. So strange. Probably to be expected when we are all in our late sixties. But still, hard to grasp. I don't do well with keeping in touch. I have only one friend from college, even, with whom I have maintained a relationship over the years. Only one. And none from high school. Once again, I find my inner radar scanning the horizon of my life, looking for something to put in my guilt backpack. I should have stayed in touch with Marilyn, I find myself saying. We walked to school together almost every day. And now she's gone. So hard on myself, thinking what I do is Never Enough. Okay, I'll need to be content, right now, to pray for the families and friends of those who died. I'll need to be confident that God has been big enough to take care of all these classmates over the years. Yes, I can believe that.

Now, Let's see. I'll need to get a complete makeover, lose 30 pounds, buy some new outfits, and write a biography that makes me look successful and prosperous. Hmmmm. Not the Nancy you know? Doesn't sound like me, even to me. So maybe I'll let my girls take me shopping. That's one thing I haven't done in five or ten years that I think I could manage. Yeah. A couple of fall outfits, some new blue jeans, maybe a new pair of shoes. This is going to be fun. Thank you, Lord, for new experiences that will stretch me to trust you more.

This is not going to be fun. This is going to be scary. Me, the introvert. Nancy, the not-popular high school wallflower, returning to her first class reunion. After fifty years. What am I thinking? Do I have to do this? What will it be like? Will I connect with anyone? My life has been so out-of-the-ordinary. What is ordinary? What sorts of lives have others in my graduating class had? Hmmmm. Not the Nancy you know? Sounds like a version of the Nancy I know. The one you don't see too often. The one I see more often than you. The one Jesus sees. The one to whom Abba-Father says, "Be still, my Nina. Hush your silliness and take my hand. I have created you with gifts I have given to no one else. I have plans for you that will unfold with joy, if you will relax and trust me." Okay, Lord. Thank you for new experiences that will stretch me to trust you more. I place my hand in yours. Let's get ready! "That's what I'm talkin' about! Remember, I did make you yearbook editor right after you gave your life to me ." So you did. So you did, Lord. Here we go, again, then.