2013: Make it Meaningful

The new calendar hands me a snazzy empty grid to fill with life. Is it opportunity, or is it intimidating? 

I begin to plan for the new year; I pick out meaningful things from the endless list of opportunities and drop them onto that handy sectioned cardstock. But the word meaningful catches me. Meaningful. It’s used so often to describe the old year that I feel it’s a mandate: Find thou something meaningful in this year!

I can’t.

I’m not going to look back and point to 2012 and tell you that my character took great strides, and that I 

gained a sense of direction.

It wasn't like that.

My definition of meaningful changed.

In June I went to New York City with my choir. I would describe it to you in the varying hues of the markets we visited, or the audiences we sang for, or the places we ate. But all that comes to mind is “We had so much fun!” It was a pleasurable and empty trip. We went. We sang. We came home.

In September I went to Colorado with Katie. I won’t try to describe it to you. I can only try to clarify the meaning it taught me.

There was fellowship. There is a fellowship in a choir, just as there is a fellowship in God. But a choir needs a purpose. God is purpose. And to fellowship in Christ then, is meaningful as nothing else can be.

Things came of this fellowship. Study. We came together every morning, afternoon and evening for lectures. We studied the solidness of the truths of God. Desire to study. We took notes, bought books, took time to meditate and pray about what we learned. Close fellowship. We were divided into small groups to pray for, lean on and support each other. Joy. Maybe we just looked like another group of volleyball players at the park, but our smiles didn't end with our physical exertion. We served joyfully – taking plates after meals or helping Mat with his sprained ankle. We took joy in learning, in praising, in prayer, in fellowship and in sleep. More fellowship. We now worship together by posting verses on Facebook. We study by posting and responding to articles and listening to the wise voices of our new friends.  

In June I came back from New York with the choir exhausted, ready to sleep.

In September I came back from back from Colorado with Katie; Katie-bug; My Katie, exhausted and eager to fellowship.

That gridded wall hanging beckons me again. I smile.

Opportunity.

For Meaning. 

Just New York City

I was going to blog about going to New York.

Now I don't know if I can. So much of it was just tourist attractions and travel! I enjoyed it without a doubt, but there was so little of substance that happened.

So I'll compromise. I'll post my pictures and give you a photo blog post (for once) and get this self-inflicted need to blog about NYC off my mind.

Then I can freely write about things that actually give me words.



This is my first picture of the skyline! If only the UPS truck hadn't changed lanes. Grrrr.

This is the Lincoln Tunnel. It goes under the Hudson River from Brooklyn, New Jersey to New York City, New York. This picture was supposed to show how wet the walls were from being right under the river.





This was the old graveyard at Trinity church. William Bradford is burried here! Also - think National Treasure.

The boys started feeding the pidgeons during breakfast.



And they gathered somewhat of a crowd before they realized it wasn't a very good idea.

This is the 9/11 memorial site. the water runs from a under a ledge down to the first level, and then it falls down into that square in the center.

Around the rim is a ledge on which is inscribed the name of every victim of 9/11 from the two towers, from the Pentagon, from the volunteer rescue workers, and from the victims of the terrorist attack in 1993.

These are some of the names inscribed on that ledge.

And this next picture is what brought all of this into focus for me.

Inna. The nickname of one of my dearest friends. I had to stand for a minute to take this in. It struck me then that people's friends died here. That their families, their sisters, their childhood playmates did not escape the tower before it fell. That the pain from this tragedy was still hurting my country.

The rest of the pictures I took at Ground Zero were much less from a tourist's point of view, and more from that of a touched countryman. It was a sad lesson, but I am grateful I learned it.

Thoughtfully,

Gianna.

(More pictures later. :)