I love being an empty nester.
I also love it when my children come home for a visit.
And when they leave again, I have mixed feelings.
That probably makes me an average mother of adult children, which is okay.
John has been home on leave for a month after finishing his Navy schooling. Yesterday he left for his first ship, the U.S.S. Abraham Lincoln, which is currently refueling the nuclear reactors that power the ship and undergoing an overhaul in Newport News, Virginia. These overhauls take so long that John could spend the rest of his Navy career on a ship that never leaves the dock. (Unlike the U.S.S. John Stennis in the picture, which Roland and I saw when we were in Hawaii several years ago.)
Roland is cheering because he got his office back. (It doubles as John's bedroom.) I'm cheering because I won't worry about my 26-year-old son when he is out with friends until 2:00 a.m. Yes, I know he is a responsible adult, but I'm still a mom. (Not that parents ever stop worrying about their children, but I'm less likely to worry about things I don't know.)
And I'm happy that my adult children have lives of their own. We raised them to be independent, so should I complain because we succeeded?
Not I.
Images of Spring
Monday, April 8, 2013
Hallelujah!
Monday, April 1, 2013
I've performed the "Hallelujah" chorus with several choirs, singing alto at times and soprano at other times. But I hadn't sung it in years--probably not since I joined my current church in 1979.
Then our small amateur choir of four sopranos, three altos, three tenors, and four basses sang it at two services yesterday. Our first performance was far from perfect, but we got through it. While still not perfect, the second was better, especially since we had assistance from two violins and a couple of former choir members who had sung it recently. And it did have the joyful feel and message that are really the point.
Although the words and the music are familiar, it's surprising how little people really know about this chorus. Take the name, for example. Almost everyone calls it the "Hallelujah Chorus," but technically it is simply a chorus titled "Hallelujah."
It isn't even an Easter chorus. It is in Part II of The Messiah, an oratorio by G.F. Handel. Part II covers not only Christ's death and resurrection but also his ascension, his reception in heaven, the preaching of the Gospel, and the world's rejection of that Gospel. Part II culminates in the "Hallelujah" chorus, which rejoices in the knowledge that God is in control. As you read the words, however, you will notice that they talk about God's kingship, not Christ's resurrection.
Some people would also be surprised to learn that the "Hallelujah" chorus is not the last song in The Messiah. It is followed by three airs, two recitatives, a duet, and three more choruses. These come in Part III, which celebrates God's final judgment and victory over death.
But in spite of all that, the "Hallelujah" chorus is perfect for Easter. If God were not King of Kings and Lord of Lords, there would have been no resurrection and we would be lost in our sins. We may not fully experience the victory until the times celebrated in Part III of The Messiah, but the battle was won when Christ rose from the dead.
Hallelujah!
Then our small amateur choir of four sopranos, three altos, three tenors, and four basses sang it at two services yesterday. Our first performance was far from perfect, but we got through it. While still not perfect, the second was better, especially since we had assistance from two violins and a couple of former choir members who had sung it recently. And it did have the joyful feel and message that are really the point.
Although the words and the music are familiar, it's surprising how little people really know about this chorus. Take the name, for example. Almost everyone calls it the "Hallelujah Chorus," but technically it is simply a chorus titled "Hallelujah."
It isn't even an Easter chorus. It is in Part II of The Messiah, an oratorio by G.F. Handel. Part II covers not only Christ's death and resurrection but also his ascension, his reception in heaven, the preaching of the Gospel, and the world's rejection of that Gospel. Part II culminates in the "Hallelujah" chorus, which rejoices in the knowledge that God is in control. As you read the words, however, you will notice that they talk about God's kingship, not Christ's resurrection.
Hallelujah! for the Lord God omnipotent reigneth. The kingdom of this world is become the kingdom of our Lord, and of His Christ: and He shall reign for ever and ever. King of Kings, and Lord of Lords, Hallelujah!
Some people would also be surprised to learn that the "Hallelujah" chorus is not the last song in The Messiah. It is followed by three airs, two recitatives, a duet, and three more choruses. These come in Part III, which celebrates God's final judgment and victory over death.
But in spite of all that, the "Hallelujah" chorus is perfect for Easter. If God were not King of Kings and Lord of Lords, there would have been no resurrection and we would be lost in our sins. We may not fully experience the victory until the times celebrated in Part III of The Messiah, but the battle was won when Christ rose from the dead.
Hallelujah!
Who Ever Heard of Maundy Thursday?
Monday, March 25, 2013
When I grew up, we always went to church on Maundy Thursday. It was an important day to my father, and it's an important day in my current denomination.
But many Christians don't even know what it is.
Maundy Thursday commemorates the Last Supper. That's when Jesus and his disciples celebrated the Passover meal in an upper room and Jesus initiated the Lord's Supper (also called "Holy Communion" and "the Eucharist"). The same meal where Jesus told his disciples that they were to serve one another and washed their feet as an example to them.
The commonly accepted derivation of the term "Maundy" is that it comes from the Latin word "mandatum," meaning mandate or commandment. After washing the disciples' feet, Jesus told them, "A new commandment I give to you, that you love one another: just as I have loved you, you also are to love one another." (John 13:34 ESV)
Jesus left the upper room with a heavy heart. He knew he would be crucified the next day, but he did it for us because he was our servant.
And our Lord.
That's why I celebrate Maundy Thursday.
* * * * *
The picture is called "Christ Washing the Feet of His Disciples," and the artist is Nicolas Bertin. The painting was created sometime around 1720 or 1730 as an oil on panel.
But many Christians don't even know what it is.
Maundy Thursday commemorates the Last Supper. That's when Jesus and his disciples celebrated the Passover meal in an upper room and Jesus initiated the Lord's Supper (also called "Holy Communion" and "the Eucharist"). The same meal where Jesus told his disciples that they were to serve one another and washed their feet as an example to them.
The commonly accepted derivation of the term "Maundy" is that it comes from the Latin word "mandatum," meaning mandate or commandment. After washing the disciples' feet, Jesus told them, "A new commandment I give to you, that you love one another: just as I have loved you, you also are to love one another." (John 13:34 ESV)
Jesus left the upper room with a heavy heart. He knew he would be crucified the next day, but he did it for us because he was our servant.
And our Lord.
That's why I celebrate Maundy Thursday.
* * * * *
The picture is called "Christ Washing the Feet of His Disciples," and the artist is Nicolas Bertin. The painting was created sometime around 1720 or 1730 as an oil on panel.

A Non-Review of "The Bible"
Monday, March 18, 2013
I don't watch shows about lawyers because the inaccuracies drive me crazy, and I've purposefully avoided watching "The Bible" on the History Channel for similar reasons. I do, however, have Christian friends who watch it, and their opinions differ.
Some enjoy the program and have told me they find the series true to the text. Others think it concentrates too much on the violent episodes in the Bible to the exclusion of stories that show a loving God. Or, as Lutherans would put it, they think the show contains too much law and not enough gospel.
Whether I agree with the approach or not, I can understand it. Violence sells, as they say. Normally that's a bad thing, but maybe it isn't this time. To those of us who know it well, the Bible is an exciting book. Still, it is easy to portray it in a boring way, and boring doesn't capture viewers. Violence does. And if that's what it takes to get someone interested, I'm all for it. Especially if viewing the series makes people curious enough to ask questions and read the source.
Besides, God can use anything for His purposes.
So even though I'm not watching the show, I'm glad others are.
* * * * *
The picture is titled "David Slaying Goliath," and the artist is Peter Paul Rubens. The painting was created around 1616 as on oil on canvas.
Some enjoy the program and have told me they find the series true to the text. Others think it concentrates too much on the violent episodes in the Bible to the exclusion of stories that show a loving God. Or, as Lutherans would put it, they think the show contains too much law and not enough gospel.
Whether I agree with the approach or not, I can understand it. Violence sells, as they say. Normally that's a bad thing, but maybe it isn't this time. To those of us who know it well, the Bible is an exciting book. Still, it is easy to portray it in a boring way, and boring doesn't capture viewers. Violence does. And if that's what it takes to get someone interested, I'm all for it. Especially if viewing the series makes people curious enough to ask questions and read the source.
Besides, God can use anything for His purposes.
So even though I'm not watching the show, I'm glad others are.
* * * * *
The picture is titled "David Slaying Goliath," and the artist is Peter Paul Rubens. The painting was created around 1616 as on oil on canvas.
Spring Forward, Fall Back
Monday, March 11, 2013
Spring forward
To save an hour of daylight.
Put it in the bank
Until the dark of winter.
Fall back
Into the evening gloom.
Open the vault
To lengthen the days.
Empty the treasure chest
Of sunlight and illusion.
Evening hours borrowed from morning,
And then returned.
No hour gained,
No hour lost.
Each day still with twenty-four
To run it's course.
Minds are easily deceived,
But you can't fool Mother Nature.
Poem © 2013 by Kathryn Page Camp
Spring picture © 2011 by Kathryn Page Camp
Fall picture © 2012 by Kathryn Page Camp
Criticism or Critique?
Monday, March 4, 2013
These two words, criticism and critique, share a dictionary definition but often create opposite emotions. Many people view criticism negatively but critique positively.
Both should be positive, even when they are negative.
I belong to several groups that exist to encourage and, yes, to criticize. To criticize the material, that is, not the person.
The Highland Writers' Group is an in-person critique group that meets weekly to critique members' works in progress, and Calumet Toastmasters is a Toastmasters International club that meets semi-monthly to listen to and evaluate members' speeches. I also have an on-line critique partner who is most helpful of all. The picture shows me with Celeste when we met for lunch during my vacation last summer.
There are two things I've learned (among many, of course). First, if I want to improve my craft, I can't be sensitive. Second, if I want to improve my craft, I must be sensitive. The definition to avoid is "quick to take offense; touchy." The one to embrace is "responsive to external conditions or stimulation." (These two definitions of "sensitive" come from the fourth edition of The American Heritage Dictionary of the English Language.)
Several years ago, I was writing an overtly Christian novel and sharing it with the Highland Writers' Group for critique. I found myself constantly irritated by the criticism from one member. He appeared to be antagonistic to Christianity, and most of his comments showed that he misunderstood what I was trying to say in this paragraph or that one. My immediate reaction (in my head, not my mouth, fortunately), was "You aren't my audience. Christians will know what I mean."
Then I went home and thought about it. Yes, he wasn't my intended audience, and maybe a Christian audience would understand what I wrote. But maybe it wouldn't. Equally important, what if a non-Christian picked up the book and read it? Better to reword a few paragraphs than to risk being misunderstood.
With minor variations, this experience has been a theme in the critique experiences I have found most helpful. If I quickly take offense and discount the criticisms, I don't learn anything. But if I think about what was said and respond offensively rather than defensively, my writing is the better for it. Yes, I still reject some of the suggestions I receive, but not until I have considered them carefully.
Because even negative criticism can be a positive experience.
Both should be positive, even when they are negative.
I belong to several groups that exist to encourage and, yes, to criticize. To criticize the material, that is, not the person.
The Highland Writers' Group is an in-person critique group that meets weekly to critique members' works in progress, and Calumet Toastmasters is a Toastmasters International club that meets semi-monthly to listen to and evaluate members' speeches. I also have an on-line critique partner who is most helpful of all. The picture shows me with Celeste when we met for lunch during my vacation last summer.
There are two things I've learned (among many, of course). First, if I want to improve my craft, I can't be sensitive. Second, if I want to improve my craft, I must be sensitive. The definition to avoid is "quick to take offense; touchy." The one to embrace is "responsive to external conditions or stimulation." (These two definitions of "sensitive" come from the fourth edition of The American Heritage Dictionary of the English Language.)
Several years ago, I was writing an overtly Christian novel and sharing it with the Highland Writers' Group for critique. I found myself constantly irritated by the criticism from one member. He appeared to be antagonistic to Christianity, and most of his comments showed that he misunderstood what I was trying to say in this paragraph or that one. My immediate reaction (in my head, not my mouth, fortunately), was "You aren't my audience. Christians will know what I mean."
Then I went home and thought about it. Yes, he wasn't my intended audience, and maybe a Christian audience would understand what I wrote. But maybe it wouldn't. Equally important, what if a non-Christian picked up the book and read it? Better to reword a few paragraphs than to risk being misunderstood.
With minor variations, this experience has been a theme in the critique experiences I have found most helpful. If I quickly take offense and discount the criticisms, I don't learn anything. But if I think about what was said and respond offensively rather than defensively, my writing is the better for it. Yes, I still reject some of the suggestions I receive, but not until I have considered them carefully.
Because even negative criticism can be a positive experience.

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