Setting the Joy

Pictured is our daughter Kara; as you can see, she's perched on a Yamaha scooter purchased last week with the funds from the car she sold the day before she flew away (on a plane).  This is her mode of transportation in (get this) LOS ANGELES, CALIFORNIA.  In case you haven't been there, just think millions of cars crowding the wide ribbons of highways at supersonic high speeds.  I was there with my mom about 19 years ago and learned then (and have relearned from subsequent trips there) that you take your life in your hands when you get on practically any ramp.  Kara assures us that her scooter ONLY goes 40 mph--45 mph tops and thinks that's going to make us feel better.  And she'll only travel appropriate roads (whatever that means) and that she'll always wear a helmet for which we are of course thankful until we remember that she'll probably want to go 45 mph on that scooter as often as possible.

Paul drove a scooter to work (5 miles away from home) when Kara was little and the fastest his little orange bike could go was about 30 mph down hill.  He mainly drove on the berms of the back roads to Messiah College and was very careful and aware, but he still hit a deer on his way home one December night.  Because he was going uphill at a speed of 15 mph (the fastest that scooter could possibly travel up Alpat Road), he was lucky (or whatever word we Christians use for things ending happily)-- he only tore a hole in one of the layers he was wearing for the freezing 15-minute ride home, and he beveled the innter soles of his shoes as a result of his body sliding broadside across the road.  Thankfully there were no other cars, so he was able to ride the rest of the way home whole though shaken.  But goodness, we live in Dillsburg, PA--the traffic can be annoying at 4-way stop signs, but, unless there's an accident on the main vein that runs through our town, we are pretty safe on our scooters and bikes (unless a deer jumps us).

Ok, enough about the scooter.  It's over and done; the money is spent and all the assurances in the world that Kara can possibly offer have been given.  But before she bought that scooter, I was planning to write a little about my observation of her getting to LA from Washington, DC.  She's lived in that area for about seven years; began her master's degree in opera the year after I began my master's study in seminary.  She finished six years before I did--but that's another story or series of stories that I may or may not write about.  She's had wonderful experiences in that part of the world singing in special ensembles, as soloist in her church and as teacher for an international school of music. Like the story of The 500 Hats of Batholomew Cubbins by Dr. Seuss (read it), she has discovered an affinity with other art forms besides vocal, instrumental and choral music.  She's collaboratively making movies now and last year realized that if she was going to keep developing her crafts, she would have to move.  She spent a month last summer in LA (some of those weeks sleeping on a couch in the dorm room of college students which of course we heard about only after the fact) and about 10 days last fall in New York City (during the time of Occupation Wall Street) to discern which place would offer her the most opportunities for all the things she wants and has the talent to do.  So this past spring LA won and she began moving west.  She actually left two weeks ago.

There's much that could be shared about this, though I'm sure she'd do the best job having lived through all the details; but the thing I've wanted to comment on has to do with the process of getting herself where she wants to be.  I'm not sure how many miles from Dillsburg to LA (I guess I could google it), but, needless to say, it's a commitment to get body and belongings from here to there and then to sustain it all once there.  For Kara, decisions included how to get there--fly or drive--and which among her possessions to keep and which to sell or give away.  In the end, she sold or gave most of what she owned away--and we all felt the loss because she has the gift of hospitality and every item making up her home spoke of grace and welcome. But there appears to be something she wants more than these things and that's what she has placed in front and headed towards.  Everything else, I guess, is expendable.  So she's moved west and some of our hearts leftover from when Tim and Deb moved out five years ago went with her.  Thankfully some of our hearts are left to us in various family members and friends. 

But the point of writing this has to do with a verse I've wondered about for many years. Hebrew 12:2 talks about the joy Jesus set before him that allowed him to endure all he did and I've heard many things and people assigned to that joy, his return to heaven and the redemption of men and women among them.  I'm thinking about Kara's process in terms of the joy set before her that allowed her to release loved ones and beloved belongings (she did take her cast iron teapot, in case you are wondering--had to take it in her humongous carry-on since it weighs about 100 pounds and sent the baggage expense from $50 to $100). What exactly is the joy she has set before her that allows her to make this leap--to let go of everything except for a suitcase, a (humongous) carry-on and a shipped box of assorted clothing and books--that gives her what she needs to reshape her personal and professional life, leaving comfort and career and family (translated: mother) and friends?

Stay tuned.  But in the meantime, I'm reexamining what I've placed before myself.