Change and Hope

"Hope and change" was the message of our president-elect's political campaign, and it obviously worked for him. And although he may not realize this, hope and change did not originate with him. In fact, all during this eventful year of 2008 while he was promising change, our family was experiencing change in significant ways, as were millions of others around the world. Our changes were mostly positive. While many are pleased to see 2008 gasping its last breaths, our family will remember it as a time of great blessing. Some of our many changes:

*The biggest, of course, was Henry's and my marriage on July 11. We're pretty happy about that one.
*We all moved into a new home together.
*After being members of a church since 2000, Katie, Jonathan, and I changed to Henry's church.
*Henry began a new job this fall.
*Katie started her senior year and has been considering her next big change: college. She also became a licensed driver in 2008.
*Jonathan graduated from eighth grade and started attending West Michigan Lutheran High School this fall.

The truth is, no matter who we are or what our life circumstances, we all experienced some type of change this year--some good, some not so good. Which brings me to the next concept: hope.

It's fairly easy to have hope in a year like the one we've just experienced, when everything is going well. There have been years past when it hasn't been so easy to have hope, and we've stood by friends and family members this year who have endured some difficult changes: they've lost spouses, children, jobs, their health.

Yet if change is a certainty, so is hope. Not hope in a government bailout, or in a new president, or in the positive results of a war that has gone on for a long time. We'll always have the poor with us; there will always be wars and rumors of wars. And let's just say that I can't seem to muster up much hope that this president will perform better than I'm anticipating.

This is the hope that is every bit as certain as change: "Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ! According to his great mercy, he has caused us to be born again to a living hope through the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead, to an inheritance that is imperishable, undefiled, and unfading, kept in heaven for you" (1 Peter 1:3, emphasis mine).

This is hope that will not change.

A blessed 2009 to you.

Lord, through all the generations of the children of our race,
In our fears and tribulations, thou hast been our dwelling place.
Ere the vast and wide creation by thy word was caused to be,
Or the mountains held their station, thou art God eternally.

Christmas Past

Since Christmas is past, it seemed only right to re-visit a Christmas that is really, really past. This picture was taken probably about thirty-five Christmases ago, and it was clearly one of those last-minute, let's-get-a-shot-of-the-kids-quick-so-we-can-get-the-Christmas-cards-out Kodak moments. I'm thinking this was an impulse thing, because nobody who planned to take a picture for a Christmas card would have intentionally dressed us like this. Pictured here are, from left to right, myself at about 9, my younger sister Kristi (2), and my brother Tim (6).

Some observations:

1. The card, ironically, says "Greetings from our home to yours." This was not our home. We spent a lot of time here, and we loved being here--but this is Grandma Walborn's house. So now I'm wondering how many people who received this either thought it was our house or, if they recognized the setting, just thought--for some reason--we were living with my grandparents.

2. The piece of furniture we are sitting on is not a couch and it is not a sofa. It is a davenport. I really don't know how a davenport is different from a couch or sofa, but in all my life I don't remember Grandma saying the word "couch" or "sofa." This was a davenport.

3. Those drapes behind the davenport made a great hiding place in a pinch--when the person who was "it" was getting close to the designated number and you hadn't been able to think of someplace more creative.

4. Based on my outfit, you might think that I attended an all-girls' Catholic grade school, but this was my Bluebirds uniform, and the Bluebirds uniform was something we took very seriously. Bluebirds, of course, was the precursor to Campfire Girls. Other thoughts on my ensemble: You know--if you had glasses--yours looked just about like mine, so don't laugh. I've pretty much always been a short-hair girl; this is about the longest my hair has ever been. And this is my natural color, of course.

5. I really wish I could remember what we were having such a good time looking at. We three normally didn't get along that well, particularly if we were made to sit together in one place, so I'm sure we're not reflecting the joy of sibling togetherness here.

6. Why did the photographer not tell my brother to put his arms down for the shot?

The Irony of Christmas

Christmas is a day of beautiful ironies--most quite familiar to those of us who know the true Christmas story. The sheer poetry of Christmas alone has inspired some of the greatest music, literature, ballet--and in more recent years, theater and cinema. Some of the ironies are obvious: the one through whom all things were made enters his creation by way of human birth--a process he created. But the world that was made by him did not know him. The Word, born as a baby, had to learn to speak. The one who upholds the universe by the word of his power crawled on the ground, eventually learned to walk, and actually needed to be educated in the ways necessary for functioning on this earth. The heir of all things was born in a manger in a small town, entrusted to earthly parents of modest means, at best. And--the greatest irony of all--"Born that man no more may die: Born to raise the sons of earth, Born to give them second birth." To say it in a less poetic way, He was born to die.

And then there were those characters surrounding the birth. His arrival was not reported in Israel Today, The Jerusalem Times,or on any local network. Instead, angels appeared to shepherds, not the most respected, highest paid workers of the day. And those attending His first visit to the temple were not well-known rulers or celebrities of any sort. The attendees were just an old man and an old woman, one who had been waiting his whole life for the consolation of Israel and one who had worshiped and fasted night and day, who immediately recognized this baby as the one who would bring redemption to Israel.

And there are the modern ironies. The world that does not know Him still wishes to celebrate something this time of year--a sort of secular peace and joy, a feel-good season, where lesbian pop singers record Christmas CDs, singing songs co-written by Muslims to the glory of . . . unity/diversity/peace [pick one--certainly not glory to the One about whom the first Christmas singers sang]. The very event that gives life, that provides peace for those on whom His favor rests, has turned into a frenzy of wide-screen, HD TVs, iPhones, video game systems, and front yards decorated with penguins, snowmen, manger scenes, reindeer--the things that drain life from us and often drive us away from him.

This poem by G. K. Chesterton captures the exquisite ironies of Christmas in an incredibly beautiful way. May you know the wonders of the ironies of Christmas: that the one who knew no sin came to earth to be sin for you so that you may be clothed in his righteousness; that he was born to die, and in doing so, triumph over death so that with him, you might share in the victory; that the one for whom there was no room in the inn is now preparing a place for you so that in a real, tangible way, he might be Immanuel--God with us and us with him for eternity.

Gloria in Profundis

There has fallen on earth for a token
A god too great for the sky.
He has burst out of all things and broken
The bounds of eternity:
Into time and the terminal land
He has strayed like a thief or a lover,
For the wine of the world brims over,
Its splendour is spilt on the sand.

Who is proud when the heavens are humble,
Who mounts if the mountains fall,
If the fixed stars topple and tumble
And a deluge of love drowns all—
Who rears up his head for a crown,
Who holds up his will for a warrant,
Who strives with the starry torrent,
When all that is good goes down?

For in dread of such falling and failing
The fallen angels fell
Inverted in insolence, scaling
The hanging mountain of hell:
But unmeasured of plummet and rod
Too deep for their sight to scan,
Outrushing the fall of man
Is the height of the fall of God.

Glory to God in the Lowest
The spout of the stars in spate—
Where thunderbolt thinks to be slowest
And the lightning fears to be late:
As men dive for sunken gem
Pursuing, we hunt and hound it,
The fallen star has found it
In the cavern of Bethlehem.

Gilbert Keith Chesterton

*photo by Katie Selden

Top Ten of 2008: Part 2

As promised, I return to the top ten most surreal moments of 2008. Rounding out the list are the following, again, in no particular order:

1. Part of the fun of moving into a new house with Henry was buying new furniture to fill it up. We bought most of the new stuff from Talsma Furniture. We had purchased a nightstand that had been delivered in early July, but the rest of the furniture didn't come until after the wedding in August. I was at work on furniture delivery day when Henry called, asking if we had ordered two nightstands because Talsma was attempting to deliver a second one. I told him it was a mistake, that they had already delivered a nightstand, and went on with my day. Later when I came home from work, I went to the family room to see our new end tables and coffee table. I was surprised to see that things looked a little crowded and realized that they had given us an extra end table--there were three instead of two. When I called the store to clear up the mistake with Susan, our salesperson, a man answered and said that Susan wasn't working but that he could probably help me. I explained what had happened, and he offered to come pick up the extra table when it was convenient for us. We were going to be home that evening, so he offered to come that night after the store closed. It was just getting dark when the doorbell rang later that evening, and Henry answered the door. We had both forgotten that someone was coming, and as I came down the steps, I heard the man saying, "I'm Richard Talsma. I spoke with your wife earlier, and I'm here to pick up the end table." I thought that voice had sounded a little familiar on the phone. While Richard Talsma isn't exactly a celebrity, I didn't expect the commercial guy who obviously owns the store to come pick up end tables mistakenly delivered. He came in, literally picked up the end table, and thanked us for our honesty. As he was leaving, he told us that when he had come in, he had seen a big hawk sitting up on our roof. It was just one of those times when we found ourselves asking, "Was Richard Talsma here to pick up an end table? Did he say he saw a hawk on our roof?" It was just a little bit weird.

2. Our honeymoon was a wonderful week. We had decided soon after we were engaged that we really didn't want to travel far--definitely didn't want to gamble our honeymoon fate with the airlines--and decided that since Michigan is such a great vacation spot, we'd just honeymoon in state, especially since there were some places in the UP that neither of us had visited. We did spend most of our week in the civilized part of Michigan, but for a couple of days we hit the UP hot spots. The UP is truly beautiful, one of those nice places to visit but we wouldn't want to live there. Our first night was at a hotel near Tahquamenon Falls that literally was only a few feet from the lake. It was beautiful! We walked down to the small beach early in the evening before we went to dinner--but only stayed a short time because the flies started biting us. The next day, at Whitefish Point, same problem. After wading for a few minutes in Lake Superior, we retreated. The plague hit its peak at Pictured Rock the next day. We took a boat tour, and since we were a little late, the upper deck was filled up. We decided it would be fine to ride on the lower deck since it was a little bit cool. As the boat got out on the lake, we suddenly were attacked by the flies. The crew members were out with fly swatters, encouraging passengers to go up higher because it would be better. I don't ever think I've bled before from a fly bite, but I guess there's a first time for everything.

3. It was a definite scene from a chick flick. On wedding day, a hair styling crisis and some miscommunication about ride arrangements over to the Postma Center for pre-wedding pictures left us running behind and meant that all of us girls--wedding and bridesmaid dresses on--piled into my little white Subaru for a crazy ride. I could barely breathe or sit in my dress, so my matron of honor, Julie, was the only person who could drive us there. She's from Columbus, Ohio, where flashing red lights to turn left don't exist, and found herself driving a car she had never driven to a place she had never been in her matron-of-honor dress, with Katie and Elizabeth in the backseat. You probably had to be there to fully appreciate the scene, but we somehow made it and managed to get a few pictures in once we got there.

4. Apparently, the wedding caused more drama than I realized as I reflect on the surreal of '08. The whole postage-for-the-invitations, which I wrote about last May, definitely makes the list.

5. Last spring, I took Katie on a college visit to Trinity College in Palos Heights, Illinois. Leaving her on campus with a sleeping bag and a smiling young student who would see that she found her way to the dorm and cafeteria while I made my way to a lonely hotel in Tinley Park was a little more surreal than I liked as I realized that she really was going to go to college. Hearing an explanation of costs the next day shot it over the top. But I was glad to see Katie's searching face looking (relieved, perhaps?) when I arrived the next day to meet her for the campus tour. At least she's probably a little hesitant about leaving home.

And that's just a sampling from 2008. Things like the catering bill for the reception, the fact that I'm now Mrs. Gysen and say things like, "I'll have to check with my husband," and buying clothes for Jonathan in the men's section because he goes through about a size a month also make the list. So a merry Christmas to you, and blessed new year--and, of course, many surreal moments of your own.

Top Ten of 2008

It's that time of year: the top ten lists. Top ten books. Top ten movies. Top ten sports moments. Top ten rehab attempts by sleazy celebrity tarts. Top ten Obama gaffes. So what is left for someone who wants to create her own top ten list? While I've probably read more than ten books this year (it's my job), everybody does top ten books. I don't think I've seen ten new movies, and . . . sports moments . . . Was this an Olympics year? I'm definitely tired of tarts and politics. So that leaves me with only one natural choice: top ten personal surreal moments of 2008.

In a year filled with a middle-aged bride and groom, a bachelor (now married) merging with two teenagers, and a new house, there were more surreal moments than any one person deserves to dream about. So because I don't want you, dear readers, to be overwhelmed, I will give you five to start, and five more on Monday (hopefully). Here they are, as surreal moments should appear, in no particular order:

1. So many of my top ten surreal moments were, not surprisingly, wedding related. And so something that normally brings great joy--a shopping-type activity--ended up being not so pleasant. I had finally managed to convince my dear fiance to come with me to the mall to begin a gift registry. For some reason, I believed that Kohl's would be a good choice. It seems I always find things I want at Kohl's; in fact, I rarely walk out of that store without buying something. So we went to the counter and handed over my driver's license in exchange for a scanner. After a brief explanation about how to use the scanner, we headed over to housewares to decide just what we needed to make our new home complete. This was not such an easy task since we both had pretty much everything we needed to manage a household. We would look at an item like steak knives, discuss whether one of us had a sufficient set, and, if not, check them all out to decide which one was best, and then scan. (H is at the opposite end of the spectrum from impulse shopping, which is probably why he doesn't often go to malls. It's just too much work, and he needs something more to make a decision than just that something is a great color.)This was a rather lengthy process, and probably after an hour and a half of this, we headed back to the counter with a scanner filled with our hopes and dreams for kitchen utensils and small electronic devices. I handed the scanner off to a college-age young man, who carried it over to the kiosk and appeared to be doing what you have to do to transfer information from a scanner to a kiosk. However, the expression on his face lacked confidence as he looked at us and said, "You're not going to be happy about this." "Did you lose her license?" my ever-practical H asked. But it was far worse than that. A lost license would only require waiting several hours at the DMV on a Saturday morning and a replacement fee. He had somehow lost the gift registry list that had taken us so long to compile. He offered us nothing more than my license back and a mumbled sorry. The next day I called the store manager, hoping that there would be some sort of compensation for the incompetence of counter guy. After talking with a young lady from Kohl's IT who promised that this would not happen again if we came back and gave another piece of our life to the process, the manager offered us a whopping 15 percent off coupon. As a Most Valued Customer, I get better deals than that in the mail every week. Surreal. We registered at Bed, Bath, and Beyond, where we should have just gone in the first place.

2. We opened a gift registry because several generous friends and family members hosted showers for us. The first was from the women of the Gysen family: Henry's sister, nieces, mom, an aunt, several cousins, and my mom. It was my first time meeting most of them, and it was such a nice morning. My sister-in-law, Diane, had done a fantastic job. I noticed that as I began opening one gift in particular, one of the cousins made sure her camera was aimed and ready to fire. I opened the box to discover a very teeny crocheted lingerie set--perhaps only a little too large for a Barbie. It was hilarious, but a little surreal, to see my future mother-in-law carefully looking over my gift. Better yet was when H's cousin asked, "Want me to make you one, Aunt Sylvia?"

3. Katie passing her driver's test and getting her license. Enough said.

4. Jonathan's eighth-grade class trip in early June was to Cedar Point, and H and I (not married yet) decided to go along. I asked him if he liked amusement parks, and he said not particularly--something we shared in common. I'm not much of a ride person; a surreal Tilt-a-Whirl moment in high school where I lost my lunch on my friend sitting next to me kind of made me not so excited about rides. But--for Jonathan--we sucked it up and went. And what did I learn about my soon-to-be-husband that day? He is a roller coaster fiend. He'll ride any roller coaster any number of times and like it. And for those of you out there who are scratching your heads saying, "She's married to Henry Gysen, right?" all I can say is . . . it's surreal. And I do have Raptor video footage of H and J to prove all of this.

5. And now an explanation of the pictures, another surreal moment from this summer. In August, we decided a little family vacation to Mackinac Island was in order. When you think of Mackinac, you think of romance, lilacs, boats, quaint bed and breakfasts, horses and carriages, the majestic fort overlooking the lake, beautiful trails through the woods and onto the beach. Yet for our family, Mackinac has come to mean something even more: bats. As we started to enter the shop with the hand buzzers, trick dice, and funny sunglasses, we noticed this little black creature, who was not quite sure what to do. Maybe he'd had too much caffeine or couldn't find a spot beside one of his bat friends (also pictured, doing what bats should do in the daylight), or had too much to drink, but the lady working in the shop decided to rescue him and was carrying him around (ewwww!). And then the phone rang. That is a bat in her left hand. I do think in all my years I've never seen a person holding a bat in one hand and a phone in the other. This was worthy of a Poe short story. And interesting that her shirt says, "magic?" Photos by the talented Katie Selden.

Come back next week for part two of the top ten surreal moments of 2008.

Senior Pictures . . . Then and Now

If I were back in my Freshman Composition teaching days, these two pictures could be a study in contrasts: a senior picture from 2008 and a senior picture from . . . not 2008. (I'm cringing as I type this and for the first time realize that my daughter is graduating from high school almost thirty years after I did. No wonder these pictures look so dang different! I'm feeling incredibly ancient at the moment.)

Anyway, the experiences themselves were incredibly different, in the following ways. Homeschooling friends, feel free to use this as a writing exercise; here's the outline:

1. Location, location, location: Back in the Mesozoic era in Wauseon, Ohio, there really weren't a lot of options for photographers. Most of us drove about three miles west, to the booming town of Pettisville, and were photographed at the studio of Dick and Dee. There were a few props, maybe a mirror, a desk as you see here. It was all very contained. On the other hand, Katie's senior pics (or should I say photo shoot) were all over downtown Grand Rapids, but mostly in places where drug addicts and alcoholics hang out, except early Saturday mornings when we were there. Truly--at one site, we had to kick gin bottles out of the way, and at one spot, Leda, our fearless photographer, warned Katie to stay out of the poison ivy (which I would have thought we wouldn't need to worry about downtown, but the grassy areas around some of those falling-down buildings--the best backdrop for a photo shoot--are not well tended. My photographer did not risk his life in any way to capture me; indeed, he did not break a sweat. Leda, however, stood in the turn lane at the corner of Fulton and Division to get this picture of Katie. And at one point, both Leda and Katie were lying on their stomachs in a parking lot, facing each other. Frostbite and pneumonia were definitely realities for both of them at that point.

2. Wardrobe: I wore a nice church dress, as you can see. To be honest, this was my second attempt at getting decent senior pics. In the first, I had a couple of wardrobe changes (two other nice dresses), but the end result was not good, and so I went back for round 2. Katie started out wearing jeans and a sweater, then changed to a jumper and top--complete with tights and heels--in the middle of the sidewalk on a brisk November Saturday morning. At some point she changed again--back to the jeans and a black sweater, with two different scarves as accessories.

3. Final product: I had some proofs to choose from, with the end result being this nice, old-fashioned photo of a demure young lady headed for Christian college in the fall. Katie's photographer, Leda, first posted several of her favorite pictures of Katie on her blog only a few hours after the photo shoot here (scroll down to the November 1 post for Katie). This past weekend, Leda finished all of her editing and left us with no fewer than 119 poses to choose from. Please note the caption under this particular photo of Katie on the blog: S.M.O.K.I.N. In another HUGE contrast, I have never been described as "smokin."

And there you have it: senior pics of mother and daughter from a very long time ago and 2008. If that doesn't produce at least a 500-word comparison/contrast essay, I'm not sure what will.