Anne Frank received a diary for her 13th birthday in 1942. A month later, she and her family went into hiding because the Nazis who occupied Amsterdam were capturing Jewish families and transporting them to concentration camps where many died or were murdered.
Years earlier, the Frank family had moved from Frankfurt, Germany to Amsterdam, believing they would be safe. They were until 1940, when the Nazis bullied their way into Holland. Initially the Franks only had to tolerate the restrictions that made for inconveniences. Jews were no longer allowed to own bicycles (still a major form of transportation), ride street cars, or ride in any car. They were forbidden to go to theaters, movies or other forum of entertainment or sports. As Anne wrote in her diary: "You couldn't do this and you couldn't do that, but life went on."
But by the spring of 1942, life stopped going on for many Jewish families. Intolerance had grown to annihilation. Families were forced from their homes and sent to their death in camps by the name of Auschwitz, Bergen-Belsen and Buchenwald. Anne's father, Otto Frank foresaw the finale. He prepared for his family's safety by setting up a hidden living space in the top two floors of the building where his business was located. The building's unique architecture made it possible for the Frank family to occupy their sanctuary for two years without detection.
In addition to detailing the increasing dangers for Jews in the city, the diary details the stresses experienced by eight people--some with domineering and dramatic personalities according to Anne's account--who are forced to live together, quietly, to survive.
While the "Diary of Anne Frank" is hailed for its historical and educational value, it is probably the single most influencial book in promoting journaling. I had forgotten its influence in my life until last week when I was standing inside the Anne Frank House, a popular tourist site in Amsterdam. My husband and I had gone there for vacation.
The House, located at 262 Prinsengratch, is where the Frank family lived before they were taken into custody by the Nazis on August 4, 1944. My husband read the diary for the first time before our trip and finished it a day before we visited the House. I picked it up afterwards, my second reading.
It was Anne's unflattering characterizations of her schoolmates that she wrote about before the family moved into the annex that captured me on this reading. I was transported back to my initial journaling experience that occurred after I read "Diary of Anne Frank" the first time--as a fourth or fifth grader. I think for many children the book was required academic reading. And I, like Anne, received a diary as a gift. It was palm-sized with the words DIARY emblazoned on the front and it came with a tiny gold key so I could keep it locked. Here was a treasure, a place in which I could write anything--any thought, good or bad, wrong or right. I couldn't be scolded or punished for expressing how I felt or for recording what I did or planned to do.
When Anne posted her thoughts, she wrote "Dearest Kitty" as if writing a letter. I remember posting "Dear Someone," initially. Through the years, I kept many diaries. They were records of my unexpressed anger, pain, betrayals and dreams. They were the hiding place for my longings and loves. When I was 18, I tossed my diaries in a trash bin behind the apartment where I had been living. This was symbolic, a cleansing of sorts. But within the year, I purchased a journal (a new name for diary). That was 1980. For years, I used steno pads or legal pads. I have stacks of them, along with many of the bound decorative journals you buy at Borders or Barnes and Noble--gifts from people who love me and know me best.
One night I dreamt that my house caught on fire but I couldn't leave without rescuing the heavy plastic bin filled with my journals. The thought of their destruction caused panic even in the dream. Once, I left one on a plane. It was a great loss and I vowed never to put my journal in the back pocket of the airline seat in front of me. I wondered if anyone picked it up and read it afterwards or simply threw it away, uninterested in a stranger's personal life.
Journaling has helped me sort through confusion, face challenges and has provided a sanctuary for my deepest longings. Acquiring the discipline of journaling is probably in the top three of survival skills I learned out of necessity. From journaling, the desire to write fiction and non-fiction grew and then the exhilaration that comes from writing a story that captures a slice of life that matters.
When Anne started journaling, it was for herself. Then, while the family was in hiding, she heard a radio announcement from a exiled Dutch government representative requesting accounts of how the Dutch people had suffered under Nazi occupation. So, she decided to publish a book based on her journal writings after the war. But Anne died in Bergen Belsen, three months before her 16th birthday. Her father, the only immediate family member who survived the Holocaust, made arrangements to have his daughter's diary published.
How does a person become famous? They do or say memorable things. They live their life in an unforgettable manner, one that has impact on future generations. Although she didn't possess a wide circle of influence while she was living, Anne Frank certainly qualifies for fame for one reason--because she kept a journal and made a decision to publish a book with a story that mattered. And her father honored that decision.
If you want to visit the Anne Frank House, the tourist companies tell you go early in day because there is always a line. There was when we went. Immediately I thought of Anne. Amazing. One teenager started all this. She made 263 Prinsengracht memorable. She made it worth visiting. As I walked through the rooms in the annex where Anne lived her last two years, I mourned the world's loss of the spirited teen who I will always be grateful to for keeping a journal.
Till next time.
Kathy
Tuesday, April 28, 2009
Thursday, January 22, 2009
Thoughts about Inaugural Day - January 20, 2009
Jan. 20, 2009 will go down in history books as the day Barack Obama, a man of color, took the oath of office to become the 44th president of the United States.
Shortly before President Obama was sworn in, Aretha Franklin belted out “My Country Tis of Thee, Sweet Land of Liberty…” and I had a thought—what it was like to live in a house that wasn’t really mine.
I slept there, ate there, cried and laughed there, dreamed and laid out hopes for the future there. It was a place where I vacuumed the rug and swept and mopped the floors and even painted the walls when they needed a new coat. I grew up in one house and took on adult responsibilities in another. These houses were places I occupied, but didn’t attach to. They belonged to someone else.
I am co-owner of the house that I live in today. My husband and I had the privilege of selecting the colors and textures and styles of many of the features of this house. There is a different feeling that I have about this house. I have allowed myself to become attached.
I am white, so I will never really understand what it’s like to be a person of color living in the United States of America. But I wonder if what I felt about living in a house I didn’t own are similar to the feelings some African Americans have about living in the United States.
As I listened to the words of that great song Aretha sang, my hopes were raised for people of color who carry the emotional baggage of living in their country where their ancestors were not treated as equals. And, where some still feel the sting of inequality when words or actions, spat carelessly or deliberately, ignite the memory and cause pain.
When Aretha sang “my country” I thought of the legitimacy of the statement for her and others who may be hearing, for the first time, their life story imbedded in the song because it is tied to the historic occasion of the inauguration of the first American president of color. The verse “Land where my fathers died,” takes on a whole new meaning for black Americans in context of the tragedy of slavery and the triumph of the civil rights movement.
My hope is that those who have felt more like occupiers felt and embraced the sense of ownership that came with the words, “my country.” And finally, a sense of peace and belonging has resonated in their souls. My hope is also that those of us who have white skin can appreciate and rejoice in this restorative moment for our brothers and sisters of color even if we don’t agree with president Barack Obama’s positions on critical issues.
God is sovereign. History is “His story” as pastor Rick Warren said during the inaugural invocation. The American institution of slavery should never have been. The inequities experienced by people of color should never have been. It was and still is sin wherever and whenever it occurs. But I have a God-given hope that He will speak to the hearts and raise up the heads of those who call on His name.
Be hopeful
Kathy
Thursday, January 8, 2009
Are You Puzzled?
Have you ever been puzzled?
Have you ever awakened in the middle of the night and thought, "why am I here? Do I serve any good purpose? Do I matter? Is there value to my existence?"
These are just some of the questions that roam through my mind every now and then.
Needless to say, my preeminent question--why am I here?-- was answered through my relationship with my Lord and Savior Jesus Christ. I know that I am here to worship Him and enjoy Him forever; to live and walk in the Spirit; to love Him with all of my heart, mind, soul and strength; and to love my neighbor as myself. I am secure in knowing these things.
And yet, there are moments in my life when those pack of restless thoughts, save the one, are aroused by an unexpected event--a twist of fate that sidelines my expectations--a situation, a suffering, a loss. And once again, those howling questions break loose in my mind: Do I really matter?; do I serve any good purpose?; is there value to my existance?
I have never been a puzzle enthusiast, but my wife has. She enjoys the challenge of finding and fitting edge pieces together first to create a frame and then filling in the frame. She says its easier to that way. I don't know. I don't do puzzles.
For the sake of this blog, let's say there is a universal puzzle and that each piece represents an individual within that universe. Some have sharp angles, others are more rounded. A few have complex patterns on their surface, while others are simple. Some are multicolored, while others possess a single hue. Some puzzle pieces even resemble others in their shape and colors. Even though they appear to be similar, each piece has a unique characteristic that cannot be dublicated. (You find this out when you try to fit one piece in a space designed for another piece.)
But even though they are different, each one is designed to serve a special purpose. And, they all matter. There is no puzzle piece of greater or lesser value and the big picture is incomplete if any are missing or lost. The manufacturer of the puzzle was intentional when he created each of these unique configurations.
Now imagine that you are a jigsaw puzzle enthusiast and while putting the puzzle together you notice that one or two pieces are missing. Do you realize how frustrated you would feel? Or, how anxious you would become? Would you not search underneath the couch, between the pillows and the dog bowl just in case? Would you not even forage through the trash can, open the refrigerator and the puzzle box again and again?
You might even ask the person or persons with whom you reside if they came across the pieces. And if they said no, would you not ask them again--just to be sure? The fact is it would be difficult to rest your mind until you found that missing piece.
The puzzle piece doesn't see its significance, but you see the big picture. The piece is small in relation to the puzzle, but priceless, because without it, the picture is incomplete.
You are fearfully and wonderfully made. The purposes and plans God has for you may not be obvious each moment of your life. But remember His promise: when you trust in Him with all your heart, leaning not to your own understanding--when you acknowlege Him in all your ways, He will direct your path.
You do matter. Your life has purpose. You are significant in your Heavenly Father's eyes. And as you walk with Him, you will discover all that He has in store for you.
A scriptural verse that has encouraged my heart over the years is found in Jeremiah 29:11- "For I know the plans I have for you, declares the Lord, "plans to prosper you and not harm you, plans to give you Hope and a future."
Michael
Have you ever awakened in the middle of the night and thought, "why am I here? Do I serve any good purpose? Do I matter? Is there value to my existence?"
These are just some of the questions that roam through my mind every now and then.
Needless to say, my preeminent question--why am I here?-- was answered through my relationship with my Lord and Savior Jesus Christ. I know that I am here to worship Him and enjoy Him forever; to live and walk in the Spirit; to love Him with all of my heart, mind, soul and strength; and to love my neighbor as myself. I am secure in knowing these things.
And yet, there are moments in my life when those pack of restless thoughts, save the one, are aroused by an unexpected event--a twist of fate that sidelines my expectations--a situation, a suffering, a loss. And once again, those howling questions break loose in my mind: Do I really matter?; do I serve any good purpose?; is there value to my existance?
I have never been a puzzle enthusiast, but my wife has. She enjoys the challenge of finding and fitting edge pieces together first to create a frame and then filling in the frame. She says its easier to that way. I don't know. I don't do puzzles.
For the sake of this blog, let's say there is a universal puzzle and that each piece represents an individual within that universe. Some have sharp angles, others are more rounded. A few have complex patterns on their surface, while others are simple. Some are multicolored, while others possess a single hue. Some puzzle pieces even resemble others in their shape and colors. Even though they appear to be similar, each piece has a unique characteristic that cannot be dublicated. (You find this out when you try to fit one piece in a space designed for another piece.)
But even though they are different, each one is designed to serve a special purpose. And, they all matter. There is no puzzle piece of greater or lesser value and the big picture is incomplete if any are missing or lost. The manufacturer of the puzzle was intentional when he created each of these unique configurations.
Now imagine that you are a jigsaw puzzle enthusiast and while putting the puzzle together you notice that one or two pieces are missing. Do you realize how frustrated you would feel? Or, how anxious you would become? Would you not search underneath the couch, between the pillows and the dog bowl just in case? Would you not even forage through the trash can, open the refrigerator and the puzzle box again and again?
You might even ask the person or persons with whom you reside if they came across the pieces. And if they said no, would you not ask them again--just to be sure? The fact is it would be difficult to rest your mind until you found that missing piece.
The puzzle piece doesn't see its significance, but you see the big picture. The piece is small in relation to the puzzle, but priceless, because without it, the picture is incomplete.
You are fearfully and wonderfully made. The purposes and plans God has for you may not be obvious each moment of your life. But remember His promise: when you trust in Him with all your heart, leaning not to your own understanding--when you acknowlege Him in all your ways, He will direct your path.
You do matter. Your life has purpose. You are significant in your Heavenly Father's eyes. And as you walk with Him, you will discover all that He has in store for you.
A scriptural verse that has encouraged my heart over the years is found in Jeremiah 29:11- "For I know the plans I have for you, declares the Lord, "plans to prosper you and not harm you, plans to give you Hope and a future."
Michael
Thursday, December 25, 2008
Gifts
Christmas just isn't the same any more...
Remember when there was mystery and magic. Reindeers tapping across your snow-covered roof. You thought you heard them as you forced yourself to fall asleep to the rhythm of your thumping heartbeat. And the gifts that awaited you...
Sometimes if you closed your eyes, real tight, and concentrated with all your might, you might hear him laugh, that jolly, bearded magician that somehow knew every act of kindness and every disobedience. You often wondered if your parents called him on the telephone at the end of November to give an account of your behavior. Or, did he really know, somehow really know who was naughty and who was nice. And the gifts you wanted...
Sugarplum fairies and marching toy soldiers, trees aglow with dazzles and brights. Glistening snow diamonds too much to count surrounding a house warm with smiles and cups of hot chocolate with marshmellows on top. And boxes and boxes wrapped to perfection. And gifts too numerous to count...
And then you grew and grew. The mystery, the magic, blown out like the flames on the colored candles that decorated your birthday cakes. Your thumping heartbeat replaced with a regular rhythm, a warmth in giving and a bittersweet companion--your memories when the gifts were for you...
Christmas became packages of sentiment wrapped in family gatherings, sometimes more heartache than throughout the year. Battling expectations and crowded department stores, too many people to buy for, and the fear of rejection and worthlessness always tugging at your sleeves that you roll up to work harder, to please. And you look at the gifts with a quiet contempt, boxed reminders of what you owe...
But Christmas isn't this. Christmas isn't these. Not reindeers, or Santa, or soldiers that march. Not families fixed on the rightness or wrongness of your life. Not two-for-one sales, or come and get them before they're gone. Past the mirrors, past the glass, seeing into eternity past, wrapped in the skin of a Savior, destined for sorrow and rejection. After the others have lost their meaning, function, message--this gift remains...
The hope of the world--the Prince of Peace--God's gift--Jesus Christ
Merry Christmas
Kathy
Remember when there was mystery and magic. Reindeers tapping across your snow-covered roof. You thought you heard them as you forced yourself to fall asleep to the rhythm of your thumping heartbeat. And the gifts that awaited you...
Sometimes if you closed your eyes, real tight, and concentrated with all your might, you might hear him laugh, that jolly, bearded magician that somehow knew every act of kindness and every disobedience. You often wondered if your parents called him on the telephone at the end of November to give an account of your behavior. Or, did he really know, somehow really know who was naughty and who was nice. And the gifts you wanted...
Sugarplum fairies and marching toy soldiers, trees aglow with dazzles and brights. Glistening snow diamonds too much to count surrounding a house warm with smiles and cups of hot chocolate with marshmellows on top. And boxes and boxes wrapped to perfection. And gifts too numerous to count...
And then you grew and grew. The mystery, the magic, blown out like the flames on the colored candles that decorated your birthday cakes. Your thumping heartbeat replaced with a regular rhythm, a warmth in giving and a bittersweet companion--your memories when the gifts were for you...
Christmas became packages of sentiment wrapped in family gatherings, sometimes more heartache than throughout the year. Battling expectations and crowded department stores, too many people to buy for, and the fear of rejection and worthlessness always tugging at your sleeves that you roll up to work harder, to please. And you look at the gifts with a quiet contempt, boxed reminders of what you owe...
But Christmas isn't this. Christmas isn't these. Not reindeers, or Santa, or soldiers that march. Not families fixed on the rightness or wrongness of your life. Not two-for-one sales, or come and get them before they're gone. Past the mirrors, past the glass, seeing into eternity past, wrapped in the skin of a Savior, destined for sorrow and rejection. After the others have lost their meaning, function, message--this gift remains...
The hope of the world--the Prince of Peace--God's gift--Jesus Christ
Merry Christmas
Kathy
Sunday, December 21, 2008
The Colors of Christmas
You can tell what time of the year it is by observing the colors on the store shelves.
In the summer, the merchandise is colored in pastels. In autumn, everything reminds you of the color of pumpkins, gourds, squash and falling leaves. And then right after you have wolfed down your turkey and cranberry sauce, the stores display their most brilliant colors. The reds, greens, purples, scarlets and blues take over. They are the colors of candles, holly, Christmas tree hangings, and table covering. But, they are also the colors of all that is regal. They become in their own way, reminders of Christmas’ connection to the eternal King of Kings and Lord of Lords, born a babe in Bethlehem.
But even if you want to, it is difficult to focus on the spiritual significance of Christmas while perusing department store aisles. Print ads are urging us to spend. Everything is 20 percent off. Prices are slashed. It’s our last chance to buy two for the price of one. We get caught up in the consumer dimension of Christmas, not just because of the lure of commercials and print ads, but because deep inside, encoded in our spirit, giving gifts is one way we demonstrate love. By December, we’re all thinking about that special gift, the one that best says, “I love you.” And we’re all waiting expectantly to look under the Christmas tree for the package that bears our name.
I am not exempt from this thinking. I want to give thoughtful gifts to show my love to my kids, husband, family and friends. But I also want to hold onto the spiritual significance of Christmas. I don’t want the eternal to get lost in the holiday.
Our desire to give gifts to those we love is a micro version of the character of a God in whose image we are created. His gift, thoughtfully chosen with our greatest need in mind, reflects His incredible love for us.
His package contains things that no one else can give. He gives us salvation--freedom from the bondage to and consequence of sin. Sin is anything we do or any attitude we hold to get our needs met our way instead of God’s way. When we are bound to living sinfully, we never achieve the potential for which we were designed. And the consequence of living sinfully is death and eternal separation from God who planned for us to live into eternity with Him.
God makes possible our salvation through the heroic feat of His Son, Jesus Christ. Mysteriously, Jesus Christ was God putting on human flesh. He was our Creator reduced to human form who suffered the consequences of all the sins of the human race so that we don’t have to. Christ coming back to life, three days later, demonstrates to us that this great feat to free humans from the consequences of sin was accomplished. It also foreshadows our resurrection from death to eternal life.
Our responsibility to this amazing gift is to believe and bow in humility to Jesus Christ who loves us and makes our salvation possible. God didn’t have to do it. He didn’t have to become human. He didn’t have to live a perfect life and he didn’t have to die an innocent man to be a substitute for us, guilty of sin as charged.
Surprisingly, as humans we are naturally hostile to bowing to God despite all the evidence that He has our best interests at heart. So, along with salvation, God includes repentance. This is only possible because of the Holy Spirit, another mysterious dimension of God. The Holy Spirit gives us the ability to realize our losses in living disconnected from God. He also places within us the ability to desire and ask for forgiveness for our sins. He processes the repentance in our spirit, and then restores our relationship with God. When we repent, we acknowledge that living independently of God and trying to get our needs met our way is the worst thing we can do and actually is an affront to Him since He is our Creator.
And the final gift in God’s package to us is the power through the Holy Spirit to live an abundant life—to depend on God for all our needs, to live and love well and to share our gift from God with others.
So instead of walking through stores with shelves lined once a year with purples, scarlets and greens, in the distant future or sooner than we realize, we will walk into eternity on streets of pure gold in a holy city with walls adorned with emeralds, sapphires, topaz and pearls. A city illuminated by the glory of God’s own brilliance.
Merry almost Christmas
Kathy Lewis
In the summer, the merchandise is colored in pastels. In autumn, everything reminds you of the color of pumpkins, gourds, squash and falling leaves. And then right after you have wolfed down your turkey and cranberry sauce, the stores display their most brilliant colors. The reds, greens, purples, scarlets and blues take over. They are the colors of candles, holly, Christmas tree hangings, and table covering. But, they are also the colors of all that is regal. They become in their own way, reminders of Christmas’ connection to the eternal King of Kings and Lord of Lords, born a babe in Bethlehem.
But even if you want to, it is difficult to focus on the spiritual significance of Christmas while perusing department store aisles. Print ads are urging us to spend. Everything is 20 percent off. Prices are slashed. It’s our last chance to buy two for the price of one. We get caught up in the consumer dimension of Christmas, not just because of the lure of commercials and print ads, but because deep inside, encoded in our spirit, giving gifts is one way we demonstrate love. By December, we’re all thinking about that special gift, the one that best says, “I love you.” And we’re all waiting expectantly to look under the Christmas tree for the package that bears our name.
I am not exempt from this thinking. I want to give thoughtful gifts to show my love to my kids, husband, family and friends. But I also want to hold onto the spiritual significance of Christmas. I don’t want the eternal to get lost in the holiday.
Our desire to give gifts to those we love is a micro version of the character of a God in whose image we are created. His gift, thoughtfully chosen with our greatest need in mind, reflects His incredible love for us.
His package contains things that no one else can give. He gives us salvation--freedom from the bondage to and consequence of sin. Sin is anything we do or any attitude we hold to get our needs met our way instead of God’s way. When we are bound to living sinfully, we never achieve the potential for which we were designed. And the consequence of living sinfully is death and eternal separation from God who planned for us to live into eternity with Him.
God makes possible our salvation through the heroic feat of His Son, Jesus Christ. Mysteriously, Jesus Christ was God putting on human flesh. He was our Creator reduced to human form who suffered the consequences of all the sins of the human race so that we don’t have to. Christ coming back to life, three days later, demonstrates to us that this great feat to free humans from the consequences of sin was accomplished. It also foreshadows our resurrection from death to eternal life.
Our responsibility to this amazing gift is to believe and bow in humility to Jesus Christ who loves us and makes our salvation possible. God didn’t have to do it. He didn’t have to become human. He didn’t have to live a perfect life and he didn’t have to die an innocent man to be a substitute for us, guilty of sin as charged.
Surprisingly, as humans we are naturally hostile to bowing to God despite all the evidence that He has our best interests at heart. So, along with salvation, God includes repentance. This is only possible because of the Holy Spirit, another mysterious dimension of God. The Holy Spirit gives us the ability to realize our losses in living disconnected from God. He also places within us the ability to desire and ask for forgiveness for our sins. He processes the repentance in our spirit, and then restores our relationship with God. When we repent, we acknowledge that living independently of God and trying to get our needs met our way is the worst thing we can do and actually is an affront to Him since He is our Creator.
And the final gift in God’s package to us is the power through the Holy Spirit to live an abundant life—to depend on God for all our needs, to live and love well and to share our gift from God with others.
So instead of walking through stores with shelves lined once a year with purples, scarlets and greens, in the distant future or sooner than we realize, we will walk into eternity on streets of pure gold in a holy city with walls adorned with emeralds, sapphires, topaz and pearls. A city illuminated by the glory of God’s own brilliance.
Merry almost Christmas
Kathy Lewis
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