Amy and I went to see Swamp Meadow's production of Jesus Christ Superstar this weekend. Her dad co-produced it, fulfilling one of his long-time dreams. It was a great show -- and did what Bob, in his vision for this production, intended: got people talking.
All the way home Amy and I explored various aspects of the play, questioning Tim Rice's intentions in the lyrics, comparing my perceptions of it as a child of the 70's with her 'milennial' generation, and ended in a friendly debate about the dramatic climax song and scene "Gethsemene".
To me, Gethsemene depicts the struggle of surrender. And while none of my struggles compare to what this scene portrays, I've had to let go often enough in my life to know how difficult that process of surrender can be. The mental, physical and spiritual anguish of what we go through as humans when we need to let go and just can't -- or won't. The anger, the frustration, the stubborn refusal to release our own limited way of thinking and believing. And the fear that what we think we know is all there is -- and that letting go will leave us with something less, or worse: nothing at all.
Ah, but that's the beauty of surrender -- it always leads to something more via resurrection. And even though the play doesn't include a resurrection scene, my experience has taught me that truth. That every time I let go, every time I trust that there's more to my life than what I'm currently perceiving, I set myself free to experience something even greater, even more powerful than I could have previously imagined.
Surrender. Not easy. Not comfortable. Sometimes incredibly painful. But always worthwhile, and ultimately, the path to new life.
It's funny how easily I ask for what I want around my birthday. I don't mean gifts, though if someone asks me to share ideas, I'll readily rattle off a list. What I mean is, when it's my birthday day or weekend, I'll straight out say what I want.
Like where I want to go out to eat. Or that I'd appreciate someone else doing the dishes. Or that I'd like to enjoy a hike and picnic on our day off.
Without even second-guessing myself, I'll just ask (out loud) for what I want.
But when it's NOT my birthday, I keep my requests to myself. Until I get to the point when I'm feeling frustrated or left out. Then I'll either get cranky or I'll start complaining. Neither of which is much fun or very attractive. And both of which surprise my family since I have given no prior clue that I wasn't getting what I want.
So, I'm thinking instead of seeing my birthday as a special time when it's okay to ask for what I want, I'm going to start verbalizing my needs and desires on a regular basis. Sure, I may not get as much attention or cooperation from others when it's not my birthday. But I'll have more of a chance of getting what I want than when I keep my desires to myself.
Happy Birthday, Me!
When's the last time you were outside, in the woods, listening to the sounds of the night?
When's the last time you did something to reconnect with the inner places in your heart?
When's the last time you stepped outside of your comfort zone...and remembered how good it feels to stretch yourself a bit?
Here's your opportunity. And it's an easy, straight-forward one.
A night hike in the moonlight just down the road at Canonicus.
Led by me on Thursday evening @ 6:30 pm.
Just let me know if you're coming.
