To see with unveiled faces...

Here's some more pics from our getaway weekend.  Well, actually the first is from the sunrise service at the Passion Play site.  The next is a strange phenomenon.  When the snow melted away from our flower bed, this stone face appeared partially submerged in winter debris.  What's strange about this face (well besides the eerie thought that is lookes like a dead man lying in the dirt) is that we never bought this ornament.  When we unpacked our moving van 3 years ago in Rosebud, this garden ornament and one other were found under the seat from a previous owner.  We kept it, but they are strange to me.  Faces.  'Til we have faces.  One day we shall know fully, just as we are fully known.  Then we shall see face to face.  Then the scales will be removed from our eyes, and we will perceive beyond the veil into eternity.

The next picture is obviously of our drive to Kamloops over the Rockies.  Stunning.  Even out the car window, racing by.

Then of course, there's Weston holding Brown Bear on Easter morning with his red cozy gloves.  I love the little twinkle of the dawning sun in his eye.

Then another from the little hike in the park from Kamloops: a pretzel tree trunk.  So captivating to me.  Everything natural is more unique than we remember.  Like each of us.

Today was beautiful, but hard.

I almost hyperventilated again in the first act and it makes me sore, dizzy, and afraid.

I don't like having to consciously tell myself to slow down, breathe deeper.

My drama ministry class is tackling a tough piece right now with very little time and I was shocked and upset when almost all of them were late this morning.  I'm asking a lot of them, I know, but I was so frustrated and thrown by having to start class 10 minutes late!

I 'm aching because I had to tell the teachers of the class prior how disappointed I was.  This never feels good.  In my championing great causes and helping students leap over high obstacles, I often am perceived as strong willed in a way that is intimidating, Dave says.  This is exhausting and sad for me.  I can't help having the feeling that if I was a man, I would actually be perceived as capable and reliable.  As a woman, I am intimidating.  Why?  I know I am in a place of privilege here with getting to play Lettice, and I do have big ideas, and I do accomplish most of them with the help of others...   but I feel so sad and alone at times of being misunderstood.  This has always been hard for me, and yet I don't feel right about compromising my standards or limiting my ideas just for another's comfort.  Limiting them for wisdom or kindness... yes; I hope I would be willing to adjust for that.  I do believe in that, and I do it... often.

 I long for the One who knows me fully to help me be better known in this life time.  It is hard to wait, to live with misunderstanding, --but I do know better.  I know I am appreciated by many.  It just gets lonely.  It's partly this play.  Doing Lettice is a big responsibility on my shoulders and even though I try not to take it on, I feel the sinking sadness of the small houses.  We're giving all we can, but it can seem a waste of effort (everyone's --from the design team to the workers in the Mercantile) to give our all and barely make a profit.  Theatres should always be full for the best synergy and magic to happen.

But even theatre itself is still somewhat veiled.  Not all can see and appreciate its art.  Some  would rather sit passive in front of a television than have a live, pumping heart tell them a story.  What a great loss.

Thankfully some are coming, and to those, we bestow the gift of a courageous, funny story.  And then we reveal our souls, ... longing to inspire, but even more... longing to be seen, more fully.