Two Steppin'

In true Texas tradition, I finally got my chance to two step last night. It was to a band named Granger Smith, and the lead singer is from Round Rock. His voice is nasal and twangy and the perfect introduction to good 'ol Texas music. The dance hall is called Midnight Rodeo and looks like a huge converted barn. The dance floor is pretty massive and has chairs along the ends so you can sit and watch the action should you choose not to partake.

One of the girls in our group brought her 21 year old UT pre-med cousin along who loves to dance. He took each of us out at some point through the night, which made things chill and fun. He reminded me of all my own darling cousins who are such good kids, made me miss them! At least I had my boots on, so I looked the part. Until I got onto the dance floor and didn't know any of the moves. Haha, false advertisement. Oh well, I had a great night.

Art Walk

The Round Rock Art Walk opened last night to the tune of a couple hundred attendees! The art was divided onto three floors with the first being a silent auction, the second being photography and the third being other forms of art; paintings, woodwork, watercolors. Musicians played throughout each floor as well as there being wine and hors d'oeuvres offered.

As I drove into the parking lot, I was pleasantly surprised by the number of cars. I didn't know what to expect, so it was nice to see a real turnout. Getting out of my car, I slightly regretted the ensemble choice as the air had turned crispy and the wind seemed to enjoy its attempt at carrying my dress and hair along for the ride.

Walking into the lobby, I was met with volunteers who handed me a program and then ushered me over to the "artist" table. It was surreal, being there for myself instead of in support of others. All my life I have enjoyed being a spectator; my uncles' bands, the cousins' sporting events, various friends' artistic endeavors. This will sound really strange, but it was nice to be there for myself. In support of me. It's not often one gets to do that for themselves.

After applying my nametag, I made my way through the silent auction, noting just how much western art there was available and then got onto the elevator. The elevators were glass, so as it rose, my photos came into view. I saw a small crowd surrounding one of them which made me sort of laugh and gasp at once. It was a surreal moment. I tried hard to be nonchalant and just order a beer and wander around, but I couldn't help but to notice the attention my photo received. I agree, bicycles in water with a white collection on them is unique. "Oh look snow," a woman said. "No, it's in water, look, and it's called salty?" the man next to her replied.

I watched from a little table just behind my photos as I awaited my roommate and her date. I listened to everyone, curious really just to know what people thought without knowing the artist was behind them. I heard comments on the lines, the colors, the subject. All good. I know that next to photographers like Ansel Adams, or Margaret Bourke-White, or Anne Geddes I am a pathetic attempt at being a photographer. But in a room full of photos from both amateurs and professionals, I didn't feel out of place. In fact, the only complaint I have of my own work was the frames. And that's a pretty good complaint to have.

The photos adorn the hallways of the Texas State Higher Institution Building in Round Rock for the next three months. I wonder where my photography will be by the time they come down :) If you'd like to see more of my photos, my website is mcraycroft.zenfolio.com. Enjoy!

Coffee

I find that I look forward to mornings because I am madly in love with coffee. I drink it most of the day, but there is something about that first cup that just makes everything in your body go, "ahhhhh." I drink half-caf or decaf most days, so it's not the caffeine. I just love the experience of coffee; the smell, the taste, the mixing in milk and sugar (Stevia, to be specific). I know I'm insane, but it makes me happy.

As you may know, I nanny a nearly 15 month old little girl. Last night her parents had their anniversary dinner, so I stayed the night. Waking up, the sun was rising, the snow/ice from yesterday was just starting to melt, the mist was in the air and they have a table on their patio facing the sunrise. I stood at the window thinking about how great it'll be in summer when I can sit out there during her naps and enjoy the fresh air, sipping yummy coffee and wondering how on earth I am this blessed :)

Salvation Point 1

Tonight was our second class on the Doctrine of Salvation and as promised last week, it got a bit heated. Point 1 is one of the biggies. Arminians argue that the first major element of Salvation is Free Will. Essentially it is up to us as individuals as to whether or not we choose Christ. Faith is our gift to God and He therefore offers us His grace. Calvinists then countered that in fact Scripture states that we are all born depraved (not deprived - if you're unsure of the difference please look them both up). Therefore, we are too immersed in sin to be able to make a choice. If we are to be saved, He will Grace us with His life. Grace is our gift from God and we therefore offer our faith. Are we seeing the opposing forces here?

Arminians = Faith then Grace; Calvinists = Grace then Faith

The analogy that I really liked was this: Arminians believe we are drowning in sin. It is up to us whether we try to fight on our own, or give God our faith which would cause Him to pull us from the water. Calvinists believe that according to Scripture we are dead in our sin. Not drowning, but gone. If we are a chosen one, God breathes life into us, thus pulling us from death which offers us the chance to have faith.

One might read this and wonder, 'what does it matter?'. We all know from Scripture that he who believes in Christ shall be welcomed into the kingdom of Heaven, so this is kind of a 'which came first, chicken or egg' argument. I see a little deeper, though. Depending of which side of this fence one is on may affect how one treats others. If it's up to you to give your faith to God first, then people living in sin are therefore choosing to go against God's will. If God chooses you, then your behavior cannot dictate if or when that will happen, so you just love everyone and wait it out.

I'm just one little flawed human being, and what I believe doesn't matter to anyone but me; but I see the argument this way (as I do most things in life): which belief will make me try to be a kinder, more understanding, more loving person? One can argue both sides from Scripture. One can find a good argument for both belief systems. But which one makes me truly, devotedly and blessedly loving to each and every other human being? Only you can answer that for yourself. I don't presume to ever be able to understand what God means by things or how He thinks. I don't know how I think half the time. But the resounding message of the New Testament is love. Love each other, be loving toward each other, "Love as I have loved you," John 15:12.

I am enjoying the challenge and really wish our classes could be longer, as we are going to have a hard time finishing in only an hour and a half each week. I feel as though a veil has been lifted as to why I experience certain Christians the way I do. I am praying that I let go of judgement and can objectively delve into each direction so that I can accurately understand both.

Braveheart

Part of the homework for our class on Salvation was to watch Braveheart. Apparently there are scenes which symbolize Calvinism and/or Arminianism. All I have to say about this movie is this: NO! Mel Gibson with a Scottish accent may be kind of sexy; but the amount of rape, brutality and unnecessary show of bloody attacks far outweighed any sex appeal. It may be based on history, it may be a good example of religious notions; but NO. Movies like that just don't need to exist. We have evolved from the heathens we used to be, so why on earth do people need to watch that?? We worry about our kids playing crazy video games, our teens watching violence on television and the safety of our neighborhoods all the while rehashing a violent time in history? Yuck.

Should we read about this? Sure. Should we be aware of our past so we can attempt to not repeat it? Absolutely. But you gotta wonder what kind of people actually enjoy watching and/or making something that contains such little regard for human life.

Disturbing is my vote. Yuck.

Starbucks

Speak to anyone in the US and most countries abroad and you will find that not only do they know the name of Starbucks, but they have a definite stand on them. People either love or loath the coffee conglomerate. I happen to love them. Their coffee, not so much; but the espresso drinks I can't get enough of. An Americano on a cold day puts a quick smile on my face.

This photo was taken at the Starbucks in Kusadasi, Turkey (pronounced coosh-ah-dah-see):

So this morning, as is my new Friday tradition, I popped into the Starbucks near work and waited in a long line for my beloved Americano and a raspberry-lemon muffin (yum!). There were little groups, business people, newspaper readers, laptop users and a couple of firemen. There were discussions that looked serious, chats that didn't and everything in between.

If you let go of the fact that Starbucks is a coffee empire, ignore the fact that they are a massive chain, and look past the multi-million dollar marketing team that created the place you will find that it has become the neighborhood hangout. Starbucks hosts an array of various meetings, from first dates to multi-level marketing exposure to bands discussing their set list; all without really paying any attention. That funky guy sitting next to you may just be the next big thing, all because he hung out at Starbucks to meet a producer.

Whatever your stand on the company, my homework for the weekend for you is to go sit at one for an hour. Sip a drink if you so choose (the hibiscus tea is amazing if you're not into coffee) and just observe the life that happens inside one. I'll bet it brings a little smile to your face.

Happy drinking!

Round Rock Art Walk

As a self-proclaimed jack of all trades, master of none I am always trying out different ways of being creative. In my two years of traveling, I have taken over 32,000 photos of the states and countries I have gotten to see. A couple of weeks ago, I found a link to the Art Council for the city I live in and submitted three photos to their Art Walk. Two of my photos were selected, which means that I am now working on getting them prepared for display.

This one I took at the Mdina Glass Factory in Malta (a little island off the coast of Italy). I loved the colors of the vases and was in a macro setting mood at the time, which is how I got this very fun angle.

The photo is of bicycles in the Dead Sea in Israel. They had chairs and other things in the water as well, which the salt likes to grow on. We all thought these bikes were pretty fun, so I snapped this shot. What a gorgeous place!

This has been a longer process than I thought it would be and one that I find rather tedious. When I first saw the submission page, I emailed the contact person and stated my "green"ness as to the world of art on display and/or for sale. I was assured that they were seeking amateurs and would email me with all the information I'd need should I be selected. Once the two photos were selected, I entered into an email game of cat and mouse with the woman who could allegedly assist me. Once I spoke with her, she literally asked, "So how is it I can help you?" She knew nothing that could help me. She emailed a few professional photographers she knew, but by then a woman from church was gracious enough to tell me about a few places she trusts. Even then because it had all taken so long, I had less than a week to get everything together!

So much for helping the amateurs! I searched online and in stores and finally had my pictures printed from the online store and they should arrive tomorrow. I then purchased frames from the local art supply place, but have been informated that while I can frame the art, it cannot have glass. This means that I either now need plexiglass or to just leave the photos exposed, which raises the issue of making sure it's securely mounted to the backboard of the frame.

Oy vey!!! And for all this, I have paid about $70, and will still need to deliver everything to the council by Wednesday and then be ready for the gala on Friday. I am excited to participate and look forward to attempting to break into the world of photography and hopefully be invited to be displayed in a gallery; but this has not been a fun road. As someone who has written manuals and trained countless people on various systems, I assumed there would be a packet or email in place that could assist amateurs as to what to do, where to go, what to use, etc. I was mistaken. What's that they say about assumption?

If you are new to the Austin area and find your way to this blog, the online store is www.mpix.com. There is also a store called Precision Camera in downtown as well as Hobby Lobby, which has basic frames.

Wish me luck!

The Austin Small Plane Crash

As those of you who watch and/or listen to the news are aware, a small plane crashed into a building in Austin at the intersection of Mopac and 183 at around 7am cst the morning of February 18th. The entire building was engulfed by smoke fairly quickly and both lives on the plane were lost presumably on impact. Hours later, the freeway was still slightly backed up in both directions and there were police, news crews and many passersby checking out the destroyed building. The fact that this accident occurred just a few miles from where I work was a little unnerving. At the moment they are unsure as to the situation that led to the fatal crash, however they are fairly certain it is not terrorist related. I know of a wealthy gentleman in the area who is known for flying his personal plane around, as well as there being a military base right behind the house in which I work, so I'm sure we'll be told soon just who died and what happened.

Bethlehem

Visiting Bethlehem was an answer to a prayer I didn't know I had. The drive from Jerusalem into Bethlehem is kind of scary. Our bus had to switch tour guides, leaving our Israeli guide almost a mile before the border. The Palestinian guide that joined us was a bit more gruff, more militant, and really cute. The wall is only a little above my head in height, but is capped with double barbed wire and covered in graffiti. Our Israeli guide explained that there had been several roadside bombings of tourist buses before the wall went up. The Palestinians want the wall taken down, and even have Lebanon, their alli, attack Israel from the north whenever they feel like it; but Israel has known more peace since that wall went up than ever before, so it stays.

The Palestinian guide said little about the wall, but commented much on the energy within it. He explained that the large percentage of Muslims in the area did not blend well with the Israeli's and that they (the Israeli's) didn't want peace, only to rule. It's funny to hear basically the same being said of either side by either side. If only they realized how similar they are in their stand.

The energy within the walls, to me, spoke highly of fear. I felt uncomfortable for the first time during my journey and felt myself watching over my shoulder. Children played differently, sidewalks told stories more quietly, store fronts lingered more hesitantly. It could be my gender, my religion or my nationality speaking; but I can tell you at that moment I just wanted to turn back.

As we made our way to the little church at the center of the worlds' controversy, I had to laugh at its' politeness. The Church of the Nativity stands somewhat behind the main road, and just looks so unassuming. Passing by, not a single person would guess this church holds within it (well beneath it to be specific) the wonder that is Our Messiah.

As I walked up, I felt leary of every person I saw. I memorized faces, heights, details (a defensive mechanism I've always had to make me feel somewhat in control of an uncontrollable situation). To say I felt unsafe is an understatement. Others have told me they felt nothing of the sort, but I have always been a very sensitive type to energy. This energy unsettled me in a way that can still make me shiver.

The moment I walked in the church, I felt a shift. The church is divided into three parts = to the left is the Armenian Apostolic, the center is Greek Orthodox and the right is Roman Catholic. As we walked our way toward the entrance to the Grotto, we passed through the Catholic portion. There I saw a depiction of Mary holding Jesus as well as numerous candles. Our group happened to be ahead of all the others, so we were first in. I stayed toward the back of the group, wanting to be able to take a little time once I got down the steps.

Walking down, my heart began to race. I felt excited and curious and a feeling of awe come over me that I didn't know how to rationalize. When I stepped down the very few steps, I saw to my right where Jesus was born. I just stared for the longest time. I felt so many things at once: How did I get there? Why was I there? How could this place be real? To my left was where the manger had been and as I took my time walking around and taking it in, I was able to block out the Italian group behind us and just let myself BE there. I felt a presence in that room stronger than any I've ever felt. I felt a peace within those small walls that made me cry. And I felt so strongly, for the first time ever that I wanted every member of my family there with me at that moment.

All of my years of Catechism and private school came back to me standing there. I could see it all happening, like every story in my head finally came together as the uncut version.

As I made my way back up and through the Armenian side, we were brought to a landing that surrounds a hollowed out floor, exposing the old flooring of that site. Until that day, I was unaware that the Inn who had no room for them and thus put them with the animals, was a cave. It was a sequence of caves. This makes sense, given the dramatic heat of the area and the non-existent air conditioning back then; but somehow that had never been properly explained to me. It occurred to me just how little everyone was back then; the heights of the ceiling made each of us crouch down.

I stayed in a bit of a haze as we came around and into St. Catherine's Roman Catholic Church. This church is where we were led to the actual Inn. A simple wall separates the Inn from where Jesus was born. There are several chapels there. The Chapel of St. Jerome, where the Bishop of Bethlehem translated the Old Testament into Latin; the Chapel of the Innocents, which is the final resting place for the baby boys that King Herod had killed as he attempted to stop Jesus from growing into a man; and the Chapel of St. Joseph where the Angel appeared commanding them to flee to Egypt. The feeling in the Inn was noticably different. There was still a feeling of peace but it was more tangible, more difficult, more human.

Walking out of the Church, I felt the air thicken again, the tension build, the nervousness I had felt outside return. There is something sacred about that place, something you can feel. I left that Church feeling more different than I have ever felt. When I got back to the ship and began to journal, I remember knowing that every place I had been, every journey I had been sent on was to get me there.

It sounds cliche to say I had a religious experience; but I had a religious experience that day. In the middle of journaling, I remember having an overwhelming need to read the Bible, something I had attempted many years previous and could never make sense of. Cruise ships always contain an entire cupboard of Bibles, so I made my way to the ship library, where I proceeded to read the entire book of Matthew. Not only did I not stop until I was done (and it didn't take me very long), but I understood every bit of it. I could see it all, feel it all, make sense of it all. Even now, months later, I can pick up the Bible and read any section without need of a translation or explanation of it from someone; I just get it.

I truly hope every person reading this gets to visit this site one day. Reading about it, seeing photos, even watching a video cannot do justice to the overwhelming feeling of peace you feel in that tiny little Grotto wherein one crowded night over two thousand years ago, a perfect baby boy was born.

Sarah

Yesterday was a new experience for me. The 14 1/2 month old little girl I nanny fractured her Tibia last weekend with her parents and had to have it casted. First we went to her pediatrician because she still wasn't putting weight on it, which made them think it was definitely broken, then we went to an orthopedic surgeon who agreed that indeed it would need a cast. Sarah is an unusually bright kid, so she watched closely as they wrapped her little leg in what they call a "soft cast". Apparently even though this hardens, it can still be unraveled instead of having to use a saw to get it off. Sarah's face was pure concentration as they applied each layer and her mother and I were laughing that she was studying how to take it back off.

Sarah's father was afraid she would be grumpy about the cast, but she has taken it quite well. She hates that walking is nearly impossible, but she loves the extra attention everyone lavishes on her. In her weekly music class, every mommy was talking to her about it and smiling at her.

In a family of 31 cousins, there have been an oddly low number of broken bones. I think maybe 4 casts have ever been put on 31 kids...pretty amazing I think. So yesterday was sad in a cute way. She wasn't in pain, but there's something about a little one having to get a cast that makes your heart sad. The doctors and nurses loved her, as most do, and commented on how well behaved she was as they applied everything.

Sarah's little personality can teach us each something. It's just a broken bone, might as well learn and move on!

Salvation

Tonight I began a class through my church that discusses the Doctrine of Salvation. More importantly, it discusses the two different "schools of thought" within the Protestant Branch of Christianity; Calvinism vs. Arminianism (not to be confused with Armenians, which are an ethnicity not having anything to do with Armenius, the Dutchman whom the belief system is named after).

As a born and raised Catholic, this is a new world for me and one that I find interesting and thought provoking. Because there are many people out there who have never actually thought to question their belief system, I thought I would at least document for you what I am learning.

Background

Our church is 150(ish) people so far, so we are small. Our pastor and his wife are young, sweet, educated parents who really love people. I was drawn to this church because it is neither "cliquey" nor exclusionary in its' teaching. I saw a lot of similar beliefs to my own the moment I spoke to anyone in attendance. For this reason, when I heard they were offering classes in theology led by either the pastor, his wife, or our Director of Missional Community I thought it might be a good idea to see what exactly this church believes that is so different from what I have seen or heard from other non-Catholic churches.

My Beliefs

While I love the pomp and circumstance of the Catholic Church, I have never been able to embrace entirely several of the teachings. And having been forced to attend "Calvary" churches a couple of times has always left a very bad taste in my mouth for non-denominational Christian churches. This class answered my big question already as to why.

First Class Overview

When I arrived to the Church hosting our classes, I was met with tons of people whom have quickly become my regular circle of faces. I not only see them on Sundays, but also at group meetings during the week. Everyone was chatting and I ran into a friend of mine on my way in so we walked in together, albeit he on his cell phone.

The energy in the “lobby” area was fun. There was a slight chaos due to the number of people there and trying to get everyone into their respective rooms; but we all chatted and hugged and laughed until we got where we needed to be.

The particular class I am taking is being taught by the pastors’ wife, who is quite honestly one of the sweetest people you could ever meet. And the fact that she has a little twang to her accent doesn’t hurt any either. She was rearranging tables as I came in and laughing with friends and making sure we all put on our name tags.

As she began the class, she wanted to make very certain we knew she was in no way trying to actually “teach” us anything. She wanted to simply expose us to the two schools of thought, show us the bible references that are used to support both sides and allow us discussion time. She began with a prayer and then had one of our classmates lead us in worship by singing a couple of songs as she played her guitar. She has a beautiful, soulful voice and it really helped to set the mood in the room.

When that finished, we went around the room and introduced ourselves while also telling why we wanted to take the class. I very honestly said that I had never heard the terms Calvinism and Arminianism and would love to know what they mean. Many in the class either have bible college experience or are married to a theologian, so I think we will be able to have really great conversations.

After giving us a brief history of who Calvin and Arminius were and where these two belief systems come from, our pastors’ wife listed to us the 5 points of each. She tried very hard to be neutral in her explanations and fairly represent the two sides.

Over the next several weeks, we will be delving into these points, so I will get into discussion on each individually as the weeks continue; but if you’re looking for places to look it up online, just google the terms and you will be met with thousands of hits. I’m stunned I didn’t know what all this was called until now!

Once she finished explaining everything, she closed us in prayer and then we all got to go back out and chat with the other classes. Many of us have our weekly group meetings together, so we all gave hugs and high-fives and chatted with friends.

The law of attraction is a very interesting thing to me. I feel very grateful to have found a group of such amazing people who really love others; not skin-tones or sexual preferences or job titles or donation levels but anyone and everyone with red blood running through their veins. If these sound like your kind of people, you can google Acts: 29 churches in your area.

See ya next week!