responding

I spent most of the day so far finishing my second book this week. I've had the time to spend on some other things than studying Korean, so I read two books (Chaim Potok's The Chosen and My Name is Asher Lev), watched a movie (Hotel Rwanda), and just made a little more space to think and reflect than I usually do. I don't know what exactly happened through these things, but when I finished the book this afternoon, I cried. It's a book about an artistic genius in a Hasidic Jew community. He's pulled between his dad, who wants his son to be a respectable Jew and not shame the family, and knowing that he has to use his gift. It's a complex story of family, amazing talent, and faith.

The two books involve genius and the struggles of the boys who have to chose between fitting in to their faith community and responding to the amazing talents they've been given. Their families struggle with the same things, going back and forth between thinking the gifts have been given by God or by "the other side." Because, why would a gift of God make them have to make the choices they have to make?

I remember having sort of the same reaction that I had to these books when I saw A Beautiful Mind. I've cried every time I've seen that movie. (Part of the reason is that, to quote my mom, I can cry at the opening of a Kmart.) But there's something about genius that requires sacrifice if the fullness of the gift is to be realized, and there is struggle. Not that I know this, because in myself I have a smattering of lots of talents and not a real concentration of any one (the result of a physicist and an artist who had kids), but I still identify with responding to a call. Responding to what you feel like is a call might require separation from family, friends, things you know and love. But it's not just separation. It's also fulfillment. Fulfillment in knowing you're doing what you're supposed to be doing, in experiencing and preparing for what you're called to do next. In finding joy in unlikely and lonely places. Some people see you as being selfish and others the opposite.

After journaling for a while, mostly just with questions instead of finding answers, I wanted some music. I looked through the music files on my computer and settled on a little sample of Beethoven that I think came on the media player and then Rich Mullins. There's something about Rich Mullins that identifies with what I'm feeling. A longing for what we can only taste in this life. Here's one of his songs:

The Love of God

There's a wideness in God's mercy I cannot find in my own
And He keeps His fire burning To melt this heart of stone
Keeps me aching with a yearning
Keeps me glad to have been caught
In the reckless raging fury
That they call the love of God
Now I've seen no band of angels
But I've heard the soldiers' songs
Love hangs over them like a banner
Love within them leads them on
To the battle on the journey
And it's never gonna stop
Ever widening their mercies
And the fury of His love
Oh the love of God And oh, the love of God
The love of God Joy and sorrow are this ocean
And in their every ebb and flow
Now the Lord a door has opened
That all Hell could never close
Here I'm tested and made worthy
Tossed about but lifted up
In the reckless raging fury
That they call the love of God