Sometimes God up and answers a prayer in a way you didn't even imagine.
I found out last week that, most likely, Community Christian College won't have a spot for me in the Spring quarter. It's a tiny school and I've been blessed to get the gigs there I have, so I don't begrudge the loss. It's possible they may ask me back in future quarters as they can--they seem to like me for some reason.
But that is the source of my funds to take Voicetrax classes, so for the past several days I've been pondering what will happen with that. I'm signed up for five classes, which I can cover with the pay from this quarter, but after that I was stumped. Some thought and prayer later, I felt pretty okay with it. After all, I felt that God had lead me to Voicetrax and provided me with the funds to pay for the courses in the first place--if He still wanted me to go, there would be another way.
Well, today I found out that there is another way.
Voicetrax Desert Cities is closing down.
Thankfully, it's not like the law finally caught up with them or bankruptcy or anything. Samantha's first business in the Bay Area is much larger than the one down here, and apparently she's really missed being up there for the past five years. They're also expanding their services quite a bit, which means she has to travel up there constantly. So as of March, Voicetrax in Rancho Mirage is no more.
Huh.
I've been kind of in a state of shock all evening. I'm all confusled. It seemed like I have some promise in this line of work, so in some ways it seems worthwhile to pursue other classes in LA. Both Bob Bergen and Pat Fraley teach in LA, as well as some of the other instructors I've had. But the guidance and general support Samantha and the whole Voicetrax operation gave were really terrific, and I'll miss that. I really feel like I'd be flailing about without experienced advisors, though I'm sure Samantha would be more than willing to give me some parting advice on that front. More than that, and cliche as it may be, Voicetrax really was like a second home. I've made several friends down there, and seeing them every month or so, getting to be strange and dramatic and doing pretty well at it was a blessing. It was a release and an ego boost and an adventure all at once.
On the other hand, this transition certainly frees us up to go elsewhere if I choose to walk away. Not that we have any prospects anywhere else at this point, but I had mentioned that my family and Voicetrax were the only real anchors to Southern California at this point. With Kathie moving and the school closed, those tethers are pretty attenuated.
Yet I do still feel that God lead me to the voice work, and I'm not sure where to go on from here.
So who knows. Your prayers are always appreciated, and any words of wisdom will be listened to with care.
Life. Weird.
Monday, January 30, 2006
Sunday, January 29, 2006
The End of the Spear
I figured I'd kick off a movie review series in the hopes that such a move will draw me blogward once more.
And, shockingly enough, I'm starting with the above-referenced film, Every Tribe Entertainment's The End of the Spear. We took Joanna's parents to see the film last night for their respective birthdays.
The basic story is as follows: In 1956, a group of five missionaries penetrated the Ecuadorian jungles to bring the gospel to the reclusive Waodoni tribe. The Waodoni were feared by the Ecuadoran government and other natives because of their reputation for fierceness and violence--and, indeed, their culture was defined by a warrior ethos and a constant cycle of revenge killings. The missionaries (Nate Saint, Jim Elliot, Roger Youderian, Pete Fleming, and Ed McCully) made contact, but were killed by the Waodoni. Through some extraodinary examples of forgiveness and surrender, several of the wives of the missionaries went to live among the Waodoni, and through their efforts much of the tribe was eventually converted to Christianity. Nate Saint's son, Steve, was eventually to return to the tribe as an adult and confront his father's killer, giving us yet another remarkable example of forgiveness.
A few words are in order before I go into the film itself. I am in a strange position regarding this film, because my sister works for the organization that the missionaries were part of: Mission Aviation Fellowship, an organization that supplies transportation, supplies, learning resources, and a host of other services, spreading the gospel and humanitarian aid throughout the world. I was familiar with the story before going in both from my sister (the plane the missionaries flew in has been rebuilt and sits in the MAF lobby) and from the documentary Beyond the Gates of Splendor, which is a much fuller treatment of the events. So I do have some attachments to the subject matter and am not fully objective. Just thought you ought to know.
So, did I like it? Yes. Is it a great film? Probably not as great as it could have been, but it is quite good.
I'll get the bad news out of the way first (and I feel bad even typing that, like I'm letting down the team or I'm going to make Kathie sad--sorry, sis). The film is worlds above most direct-to-DVD Christian releases, with good production values and better acting. My major complaint was that large swaths of the story were missing. I know that such a tale has to be edited for length, but some jump cuts were far too quick. It appeared that only a day or two after the slaughter of the men, their wives were ready to move their families into the tribe of their killers. The initial contact, tentative first communications, friendly meetings and attack based on misunderstanding all flew by incredibly quickly; had I not seen the documentary, I would have been somewhat lost. I could have done with far fewer shots of well-oiled tribesmen running endlessly through lush tropical rainforests (beautiful as the scenery was) and a bit more on the story.
The acting is universally just okay. No one really stood out, apart from Louie Leonardo as Mincayani, Nate Saint's killer, who is generally good. Chad Allen, playing both Nate and the adult Steve, tries his best, but he's just not given much script at all to work with--few characters are, and some (like the other missionaries) barely register. Most scenes are set like those in Hallmark specials, with stirring music and broad emoting meant to choke us up rather than relay depth and complexity. Kathie was worried I'd dislike the "emotional manipulation," and I did. The culmination of Steve learning the truth about Mincayani and his reaction slip by in a matter of minutes at the end of the film.
Now the good news: the movie gets better as it progresses and gives the characters some time to come into their own. Interestingly, this is definitely the Waodoni's movie--though the narrator and the missionaries are white Westerners, the conflict among the tribespeople as they are torn both by their own continued violence against one another and the utter confusion the missionaries' sacrificial deaths sows among them is the centerpiece. The tension between the traditional values the warriors (with Mincayani as their leader) hold to, and Kimo, the warrior who begins to adhere to the women's talk of the new message from Waegongi (the Waodoni word for the "Creator god") and refuses to lift a spear against his enemies, is the real conflict of this film.
And manipulative as the film may sometimes be, there's no denying the real power of the story it tells. The elements are mythic: five men laying down their lives for the gospel (one nice quote, from Nate Saint trying to tell his son why they will not defend themselves if the Waodnoi attack: "They're not ready for heaven. We are."). The wives going to live among their husbands' murderers. A people torn apart by a few men refusing to offer them violence. A son confronting his father's killer. It's heady stuff, and the sacrificial heart shown by so many, and the amazing changes their sacrifices wrought is a story you would reject as being too incredible if it were not true.
It was also interesting on at least a couple of sociological levels, neither of which I have the time to get into fully here. But the first thing I thought of was the entire fiction of anthropological relativism, the idea (decried to me by Dan, who knows of what he speaks) that native cultures are sacrosanct, never to be tampered with--unless, of course, they're doing something bad. The modern world criticizes Christianity for destroying native cultures, but saving girls from genital mutilation in Africa, or decrying the mistreatment of women in Middle Eastern cultures is okay. The Waodoni were trapped in a cycle of violence which was decimating them--they are now a thriving community thanks to the missionaries who showed them another way. Not to mention the innovations they've seen in modern medicine, education and--oh, yeah. Salvation. Yes, missionaries (past and present) have been too cavalier about their actions and have stomped over native cultural traditions that perhaps should have been afforded more respect in many cases--but the idea that ever introducing change in a culture as promoted by the modern secular mind is cruel--and hypocritical to boot.
The second thing that struck me was simply the presentation of a non-violence as such a transformative power. In this age of militant Christianity and a sense of "we have to fight to defend our own," the amazing effects produced by those who lay down their lives willingly is amazing. Not that all are called to this, or that defense is never an option, but no other action but self-sacrifice is likely to have gotten through to the Waodoni; after all, Christ's initial sacrifice without resistance changed the world...
So, should you go see The End of the Spear? Most definitely. Go find Beyond the Gates of Splendor, and you'll be further rewarded (in fact, if you can only see one, see Gates). It's just a good film, but it's an amazing story.
ps--There. Was that long enough, Slater? Not funny, but you get quality or quantity these days, not both.
And, shockingly enough, I'm starting with the above-referenced film, Every Tribe Entertainment's The End of the Spear. We took Joanna's parents to see the film last night for their respective birthdays.
The basic story is as follows: In 1956, a group of five missionaries penetrated the Ecuadorian jungles to bring the gospel to the reclusive Waodoni tribe. The Waodoni were feared by the Ecuadoran government and other natives because of their reputation for fierceness and violence--and, indeed, their culture was defined by a warrior ethos and a constant cycle of revenge killings. The missionaries (Nate Saint, Jim Elliot, Roger Youderian, Pete Fleming, and Ed McCully) made contact, but were killed by the Waodoni. Through some extraodinary examples of forgiveness and surrender, several of the wives of the missionaries went to live among the Waodoni, and through their efforts much of the tribe was eventually converted to Christianity. Nate Saint's son, Steve, was eventually to return to the tribe as an adult and confront his father's killer, giving us yet another remarkable example of forgiveness.
A few words are in order before I go into the film itself. I am in a strange position regarding this film, because my sister works for the organization that the missionaries were part of: Mission Aviation Fellowship, an organization that supplies transportation, supplies, learning resources, and a host of other services, spreading the gospel and humanitarian aid throughout the world. I was familiar with the story before going in both from my sister (the plane the missionaries flew in has been rebuilt and sits in the MAF lobby) and from the documentary Beyond the Gates of Splendor, which is a much fuller treatment of the events. So I do have some attachments to the subject matter and am not fully objective. Just thought you ought to know.
So, did I like it? Yes. Is it a great film? Probably not as great as it could have been, but it is quite good.
I'll get the bad news out of the way first (and I feel bad even typing that, like I'm letting down the team or I'm going to make Kathie sad--sorry, sis). The film is worlds above most direct-to-DVD Christian releases, with good production values and better acting. My major complaint was that large swaths of the story were missing. I know that such a tale has to be edited for length, but some jump cuts were far too quick. It appeared that only a day or two after the slaughter of the men, their wives were ready to move their families into the tribe of their killers. The initial contact, tentative first communications, friendly meetings and attack based on misunderstanding all flew by incredibly quickly; had I not seen the documentary, I would have been somewhat lost. I could have done with far fewer shots of well-oiled tribesmen running endlessly through lush tropical rainforests (beautiful as the scenery was) and a bit more on the story.
The acting is universally just okay. No one really stood out, apart from Louie Leonardo as Mincayani, Nate Saint's killer, who is generally good. Chad Allen, playing both Nate and the adult Steve, tries his best, but he's just not given much script at all to work with--few characters are, and some (like the other missionaries) barely register. Most scenes are set like those in Hallmark specials, with stirring music and broad emoting meant to choke us up rather than relay depth and complexity. Kathie was worried I'd dislike the "emotional manipulation," and I did. The culmination of Steve learning the truth about Mincayani and his reaction slip by in a matter of minutes at the end of the film.
Now the good news: the movie gets better as it progresses and gives the characters some time to come into their own. Interestingly, this is definitely the Waodoni's movie--though the narrator and the missionaries are white Westerners, the conflict among the tribespeople as they are torn both by their own continued violence against one another and the utter confusion the missionaries' sacrificial deaths sows among them is the centerpiece. The tension between the traditional values the warriors (with Mincayani as their leader) hold to, and Kimo, the warrior who begins to adhere to the women's talk of the new message from Waegongi (the Waodoni word for the "Creator god") and refuses to lift a spear against his enemies, is the real conflict of this film.
And manipulative as the film may sometimes be, there's no denying the real power of the story it tells. The elements are mythic: five men laying down their lives for the gospel (one nice quote, from Nate Saint trying to tell his son why they will not defend themselves if the Waodnoi attack: "They're not ready for heaven. We are."). The wives going to live among their husbands' murderers. A people torn apart by a few men refusing to offer them violence. A son confronting his father's killer. It's heady stuff, and the sacrificial heart shown by so many, and the amazing changes their sacrifices wrought is a story you would reject as being too incredible if it were not true.
It was also interesting on at least a couple of sociological levels, neither of which I have the time to get into fully here. But the first thing I thought of was the entire fiction of anthropological relativism, the idea (decried to me by Dan, who knows of what he speaks) that native cultures are sacrosanct, never to be tampered with--unless, of course, they're doing something bad. The modern world criticizes Christianity for destroying native cultures, but saving girls from genital mutilation in Africa, or decrying the mistreatment of women in Middle Eastern cultures is okay. The Waodoni were trapped in a cycle of violence which was decimating them--they are now a thriving community thanks to the missionaries who showed them another way. Not to mention the innovations they've seen in modern medicine, education and--oh, yeah. Salvation. Yes, missionaries (past and present) have been too cavalier about their actions and have stomped over native cultural traditions that perhaps should have been afforded more respect in many cases--but the idea that ever introducing change in a culture as promoted by the modern secular mind is cruel--and hypocritical to boot.
The second thing that struck me was simply the presentation of a non-violence as such a transformative power. In this age of militant Christianity and a sense of "we have to fight to defend our own," the amazing effects produced by those who lay down their lives willingly is amazing. Not that all are called to this, or that defense is never an option, but no other action but self-sacrifice is likely to have gotten through to the Waodoni; after all, Christ's initial sacrifice without resistance changed the world...
So, should you go see The End of the Spear? Most definitely. Go find Beyond the Gates of Splendor, and you'll be further rewarded (in fact, if you can only see one, see Gates). It's just a good film, but it's an amazing story.
ps--There. Was that long enough, Slater? Not funny, but you get quality or quantity these days, not both.
Tuesday, January 24, 2006
I Fell into a Burning Ring of Fire
So I'm taking another stab at it. I had a post in mind and everything.
Only there's a fire nearby, which always throws off my mental balance further than usual. It's not threatening the town and there's only a precautionary voluntary evacuation of some of the lower streets, but it's still nerve wracking. I can poke about at things, but my mind is always distracted.
I'll keep you updated on the happenings up here in the land of heavy low-moisture fuel as I get the chance. Any prayers are appreciated.
Good night, all.
Only there's a fire nearby, which always throws off my mental balance further than usual. It's not threatening the town and there's only a precautionary voluntary evacuation of some of the lower streets, but it's still nerve wracking. I can poke about at things, but my mind is always distracted.
I'll keep you updated on the happenings up here in the land of heavy low-moisture fuel as I get the chance. Any prayers are appreciated.
Good night, all.
Wednesday, January 18, 2006
Supplication
I give in.
In order to avoid the revelation of my most embarassing secrets on Slater's Diametral Pitch, I'm putting up a post. In defiance of his blackmail, however, it won't be a funny one.
Take that, world!
I'm at that point in the evening when my thoughts are not at all clear or useful. It's entertaining to watch in a kind of nauseating, horrifying kind of way. I just spent half an hour thinking, "I ought to go to bed now. Yup. I'm gonna be tired tomorrow, by golly," and so on and so on, ad nauseum. And I was going to avoid this again, but for the aforementioned threats. So I guess blackmail works pretty well.
Still and all, I can't think of too many stories Slater knows that would embarass me. Not that that's an invitation to share, mind you--I just can't think of any tales that might haunt me at this point. My suggestion late one night that Daphne from Scooby Doo was stacked really isn't that shocking a revelation. I once had that rather unfortunate incident with the copy machine and the chicken and the rubber glove, but really, who hasn't had that experience?
Besides, I'm not the one who taught vacation bible school classes for an entire summer playing the part of a girl named Lark...
However, I'm willing to concede that my current mental state is probably not the best for remembering compromising incidents, so I'll keep my mouth shut and plan on more extensive posting in the future.
Your comments, as always, are an encouragement I appreciate. Chime in. Heck--give me something weird to write on and I'll make it a future topic. How's that for audience participation? Yes, you too can be a part of The Sojourner Chronicle; how lucky for you!
I'm going to bed. Probably.
In order to avoid the revelation of my most embarassing secrets on Slater's Diametral Pitch, I'm putting up a post. In defiance of his blackmail, however, it won't be a funny one.
Take that, world!
I'm at that point in the evening when my thoughts are not at all clear or useful. It's entertaining to watch in a kind of nauseating, horrifying kind of way. I just spent half an hour thinking, "I ought to go to bed now. Yup. I'm gonna be tired tomorrow, by golly," and so on and so on, ad nauseum. And I was going to avoid this again, but for the aforementioned threats. So I guess blackmail works pretty well.
Still and all, I can't think of too many stories Slater knows that would embarass me. Not that that's an invitation to share, mind you--I just can't think of any tales that might haunt me at this point. My suggestion late one night that Daphne from Scooby Doo was stacked really isn't that shocking a revelation. I once had that rather unfortunate incident with the copy machine and the chicken and the rubber glove, but really, who hasn't had that experience?
Besides, I'm not the one who taught vacation bible school classes for an entire summer playing the part of a girl named Lark...
However, I'm willing to concede that my current mental state is probably not the best for remembering compromising incidents, so I'll keep my mouth shut and plan on more extensive posting in the future.
Your comments, as always, are an encouragement I appreciate. Chime in. Heck--give me something weird to write on and I'll make it a future topic. How's that for audience participation? Yes, you too can be a part of The Sojourner Chronicle; how lucky for you!
I'm going to bed. Probably.
Wednesday, January 11, 2006
Providing a Distraction
WHAT IN THE WORLD CAN THAT BE?!!???!?
Did you look the other way and completely fail to notice that this is not an actual blog post?
No?
Darn.
In truth, I did have plans to put up a substantial post (mainly to avoid a right royal humiliating from Slater), but I got caught up on an ongoing discussion/debate/saga over at Devin's Mystery Cycles. Click over there and the headline of the latest post (from January 6th) should clue you in as to why it's raised such a ruckus. The good news is that it has instigated a great deal of discussion about some core issues, so be sure to give yourself a few hours and chew through all the comments. My last (and, to date, only substantial) one was something on the order of six pages long.
I submit that in lieu of content here. I've got to get some sleep 'cause I'm all emotionally worn out.
ps--If you think about it carefully, this really is a blog post. It's kind of like that famous painting of a pipe that underneath says, "This is not a pipe."
I just blew your mind, man.
Did you look the other way and completely fail to notice that this is not an actual blog post?
No?
Darn.
In truth, I did have plans to put up a substantial post (mainly to avoid a right royal humiliating from Slater), but I got caught up on an ongoing discussion/debate/saga over at Devin's Mystery Cycles. Click over there and the headline of the latest post (from January 6th) should clue you in as to why it's raised such a ruckus. The good news is that it has instigated a great deal of discussion about some core issues, so be sure to give yourself a few hours and chew through all the comments. My last (and, to date, only substantial) one was something on the order of six pages long.
I submit that in lieu of content here. I've got to get some sleep 'cause I'm all emotionally worn out.
ps--If you think about it carefully, this really is a blog post. It's kind of like that famous painting of a pipe that underneath says, "This is not a pipe."
I just blew your mind, man.
Saturday, January 07, 2006
Where Have I Been?
No, really. I'm asking. If anyone knows, clue me in. I feel like I've been lost.
The world has been a whirlwind since my last post in December. If I remember rightly (and there's no guarantee of that these days), it was just at the end of my semester. It was right before the endless cycle of events, visits, and family and friend stuff.
Now, much of that was great. We had a Renaissance Christmas party on the 19th at the in-laws, which was fun and delicious. The next day was the roleplaying joke-fest of the visiting Parker Horde, followed the next day again with the open house for same, both of which were terrific.
Then began the rounds of family visits. Joanna's entire clan was out from their various points around the country, making it a big Polman time. We were either seeing them or my family at all times for two weeks. The Polmans numbered twenty with all kids and adults tallied, and for an introvert like me, that can be a bit hairy. It was good to visit with Tim, my brother-in-law-in-law who is now a pastor out in Georgia and is the kind of guy who takes a sniper's training course so as to dominate paintball games, and I did get in some fine X-Box time with him and my other brother-in-law-in-law, Dave. But getting the kids ready every day and being among so many folk for long hours and ingesting vast quantities of quite tasty but very girth-enhancing food was just draining.
Finally all that came to a close this week, leaving me just time enough to try to take care of a few of the issues that have been piling up in the intervening weeks--like preparing for classes which start on Monday and taking care of the registration tags the DMV fails to send us every year so that we get pulled over at least once per annum for expired tags.
Fascinating stuff, isn't it? It's been a struggle to get back on here because my life seems to be in a strange, shapeless place, floating free from anything I've known before. My many-times-aforementioned secret project fell through completely (though I'm still not telling what it was, as it may come back one day); I've not really written anything in weeks; I'm staying up even later than usual and have no idea why. My motivation seems to have been sapped completely, yet I've never felt like I've wanted to pursue my calling more strongly. I get weepy watching The Chronicles of Narnia or just listening to the dramatization of them on CD.
Kathie mentioned to me in November that she was praying for major changes in my life, which I much appreciate. Perhaps this is some sort of point along the journey, but it seems a pretty low one. Still, blogging again may be a help. I make no promises to reform, as I've failed on that score far too many times to try it again. But something is underway.
I'll stop now before the rambling becomes interminable. Thanks for sticking around this far. All further prayers and thoughts are most welcome.
The world has been a whirlwind since my last post in December. If I remember rightly (and there's no guarantee of that these days), it was just at the end of my semester. It was right before the endless cycle of events, visits, and family and friend stuff.
Now, much of that was great. We had a Renaissance Christmas party on the 19th at the in-laws, which was fun and delicious. The next day was the roleplaying joke-fest of the visiting Parker Horde, followed the next day again with the open house for same, both of which were terrific.
Then began the rounds of family visits. Joanna's entire clan was out from their various points around the country, making it a big Polman time. We were either seeing them or my family at all times for two weeks. The Polmans numbered twenty with all kids and adults tallied, and for an introvert like me, that can be a bit hairy. It was good to visit with Tim, my brother-in-law-in-law who is now a pastor out in Georgia and is the kind of guy who takes a sniper's training course so as to dominate paintball games, and I did get in some fine X-Box time with him and my other brother-in-law-in-law, Dave. But getting the kids ready every day and being among so many folk for long hours and ingesting vast quantities of quite tasty but very girth-enhancing food was just draining.
Finally all that came to a close this week, leaving me just time enough to try to take care of a few of the issues that have been piling up in the intervening weeks--like preparing for classes which start on Monday and taking care of the registration tags the DMV fails to send us every year so that we get pulled over at least once per annum for expired tags.
Fascinating stuff, isn't it? It's been a struggle to get back on here because my life seems to be in a strange, shapeless place, floating free from anything I've known before. My many-times-aforementioned secret project fell through completely (though I'm still not telling what it was, as it may come back one day); I've not really written anything in weeks; I'm staying up even later than usual and have no idea why. My motivation seems to have been sapped completely, yet I've never felt like I've wanted to pursue my calling more strongly. I get weepy watching The Chronicles of Narnia or just listening to the dramatization of them on CD.
Kathie mentioned to me in November that she was praying for major changes in my life, which I much appreciate. Perhaps this is some sort of point along the journey, but it seems a pretty low one. Still, blogging again may be a help. I make no promises to reform, as I've failed on that score far too many times to try it again. But something is underway.
I'll stop now before the rambling becomes interminable. Thanks for sticking around this far. All further prayers and thoughts are most welcome.
Friday, January 06, 2006
New Post Appearing Soon
This is a placeholder post. Slater has been bugging me and demanded a "high-quality" post by today. That I cannot provide, for my soul is in turmoil and I'm just sleepy. But I do plan on beginning to post regularly once again, so stay tuned.
Bed now. Writing later.
Bed now. Writing later.