Of Ruth and Lucy

I get to see Lucy again this Saturday. Sunday is her big day when she receives her name and blessing from her dad. We will be driving up from Las Vegas---a good six hour drive.

I've been pondering this occasion lately. Lucy is first of the second generation from my line, to be born in the USA. She is only one quarter Filipino. She is the second generation of deRama's (my line) to be born in the covenant. Because I am the only deRama who has children, my father's line lives on only through me. That means that my children don't have cousins on my side of the family.

Lucy has blue eyes. She doesn't resemble a Filipino baby at all. One day, she will say that she has Filipino blood...and that will reference me. I am that exotic or mysterious ancestor whose legacy can be relegated to an enthusiastic ice breaker at dinner parties: "I have Filipino blood" or "I have a great-grandmother who was Filipino."

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The story of Ruth has been told many times. It has been used ad nauseum to characterize loyalty and love. Ruth, after being widowed, decides to leave Moab with her mother-in-law, Naomi. Many laud her for being loyal to Naomi...for loving her mother-in-law as if she were her own mother. Great story.

But wait. Why would a woman choose to live with her mother-in-law when she has a mother? Is that not being disloyal to your own flesh and blood? What does this "betrayal" say about Ruth?

Here's what Naomi tells her two daughters-in-law:

And Naomi said unto her two daughters in law, Go, return each to her mother’s house: the Lord deal kindly with you, as ye have dealt with the dead, and with me. The Lord grant you that ye may find rest, each of you in the house of her husband. Then she kissed them; and they lifted up their voice, and wept. (Ruth 1:7-8)

Clearly, both Ruth and Orpah had mothers....and families who would welcome them and love them. What about loyalty to their own mothers, siblings and families? Why would they be less important than Naomi who was not a Moabite but a member of the house of Judah? This definitely does not show loyalty. How can you leave your own mother to run off with your mother-in-law to live in a strange country? Where is her loyalty to her family, her mother, her family, her own blood? Is the story of Ruth and Naomi then, really about loyalty? Obviously, it is not. If not, then what?

Ruth, being a Moabite whose culture worshipped idols, was a convert to the belief system of the house of Judah. Like Naomi and her fallen husband, she believed in a Messiah. Naomi's household was of Jewish heritage living within the confines of idol worshippers in the land of Moab. And Naomi, being widowed, wanted to return to Judah to be with her own family so she can worship her God freely as a widow...as a woman without a husband. Remember that without a husband, women did not have a fighting chance to survive....much less in a foreign land and even worse, a widowed Jew living in Moab. Ruth, unlike Orpah, decided to leave her own family to be with Naomi: to embark on a long journey to Judah--a land she had never before lived in, to a culture unlike her own, to a people who spoke a language unlike her own. All this because she knew that living alone in Moab, without the support of a husband and now, a mother-in-law, she would face a difficult life living as a widow who believed in and anticipated the coming of the Messiah, the Jehovah of the Old Testament who would later be born, within a country who overwhelmingly did not share the same belief. And I'm not even delving into the details of the culture and role of a woman during these times. If we understood the culture and times, it would strike us even harder how difficult this decision had to have been for Ruth....and how acutely significant it was---ironically, another widow who would choose to live in a foreign land under the care of her mother-in-law who, I would gather, hoped that her family, her clan will take her back after years of living in Moab.

The story of Ruth and Naomi then, takes on a clearer and logical path: it is the story of a woman who had to follow her belief in the one true God---a woman who would leave the family and country she loves to be a stranger in a new land, live with a new people who worship the one true God. It then becomes a story of faith and testimony in the one true God.

In time, she will marry Boaz. And out of her loins, by her union with Boaz, three generations later would be born David who would be king. As we all know, Jesus comes from the house of David both via his 'adoptive' father Joseph and quite directly through Mary who also comes from the same ancestry.

Why am I thinking about this story? Because I can relate. I am living in a new land, speaking a language that is not my own, raising children in a new culture. And now, my children are having their own children. They are Americans. But somewhere along their genealogical line, I will pop up---like the Moabite, among the the house of Judah.

And Lucy is the first branch sprang from that fruitful bough.

A True Halloween Story

So I've been asked on numerous occasions about my uncanny ability to sense things. Last night, I was reminded of an experience that I had with Kurt's grandmother. Here's what happened:

We were living in Wymount Terrace in Provo, Utah while Kurt was going to law school at BYU. Our apartment was a very small 2 bedroom apartment. (Did I say very small? It was teeny...)



One night...in the middle of the night, I was restless and could not sleep. So I quietly got up and walked to the living room to watch television. I did not turn on the lights because I did not want to rouse Kurt and the boys who were all in deep slumber. At around 2:30 in the morning, I sensed something in the air. It's very hard to describe the feeling but it would seem like I was dreaming but I was perfectly aware of everything that was going on...in fact, I sat up. Then I sensed the presence of several 'persons' in the room. My heart started pounding and I was scared. So I said out loud;



"Should I be afraid of you guys?"



I 'heard' a response but only in my head.



"No."



So I started to get curious.



"Are you good spirits? Because I don't feel very warm and fuzzy right now."



I 'heard' this response:



"We are unfamiliar to you. But not to your sons."



Then I understood. They were all related to Kurt and my sons but not to me. They were generations of ancestors from the Faux line. At that instance, I sensed the presence of more spirits filing in and walking pass the couch where I was sitting. I was impressed that they were all looking in to Kurt and then to the boys' room and then disappearing from there. All they did was look at Kurt and the boys as if wanting to see them for the first time. I could sense the file of many spirits passing by. It lasted close to an hour. I basically just sat up and 'watched' as this happened. None of them deviated from just filing in, walking pass me and then looking in at the boys and at Kurt. Towards around 3:30 am, the number of spirits began to trickle until the last one passed. My anxiety level began to wane about that time and then, everything was silent and I felt alone again. I sat for a time and then returned to my bedroom and fell asleep.



At about 7:30am, the phone rang. I roused Kurt and told him to pick up the phone because "grandma just died". I said this half-asleep and Kurt jumped out of bed and picked up the phone. It was indeed true. Grandma, Ila Faux, passed that morning, if I remember right, at around 3:30am. After he hung up the phone, he asked me how I knew. I began to tell him what happen just a few hours ago.

I've had other similar experiences. I had a fantastic experience with my father on one occasion.

But that's another story for another time.

I Think Too Much

During a girls' only lunch, someone made a comment that I "think too much." This is not the first time I've been accused of this heinous thing. It's a congenital disorder that I've struggled with for decades.

I am not an unusually intelligent person. I'd say I'm pretty smart. And I'm not dumb either. But I have to admit that I have a tendency to over-think things through. Worst of all, I do over-analyze. That's the downside of my overactive thinking. It can be devastating. Sometimes, my mind races through various scenarios and perspectives and before you know it, I am haplessly emotionally invested in an event or a notion before anyone else gets there. It can be unnerving when I'm the first one to react to something and I start crying before anyone else even realizes that there's something to cry about. By then, that moment is sucked out because everybody's attention is drawn to my reaction and nobody knows why I've been reduced to this babbling idiot because the cause will have simply poofed, vanished.



Variables that are often overlooked by or are invisible to others are very clear and obvious to me. So, before anyone realizes the problem, I will have already reacted---oftentimes, quite ridiculously. So I've learned to hold things in. That produces a side-effect that is very undesirable: depression. As things mount in my head and I realize that there's nothing that can be done but let things happen, I stew. Many times, people get gobbsmacked at how ridiculous my thinking gets.

But there are also very good advantages. I tend to over-analyze myself. So I consistently try to find better ways of being me. Many times, I fail at the execution of my plans to alter negative behaviour but sometimes....I get it and get it good. Those are good days. I tend to keep evaluating my goals daily, asking myself questions about how I comported myself during the day and then figuring out how to be better. I also like to find patterns of my own behaviour that need squashing. The older I get, the more frightened I am that my bad patterns will become permanent. You know that saying: you can't teach an old dog new tricks. Well, this dog (or female dog, if you wish....) wants to learn new and better tricks. And if I am not on board, I will be consigned to become....well, a very old and cranky female dog.



Another advantage is that I don't have to be surprised when what's inevitable by my vista, happens. Because I think too much, I can see patterns where others can't. When I was younger, I often tried to control the outcomes of these patterns. But as time went by, I realized that you can't control anything outside your person without paying a hefty price. So, I sometimes amuse myself just waiting....and watching as the predicted outcomes happen. This is probably the most difficult aspect of my disease because giving up that control requires a bundle of serenity that I never had. But I find that the more I give up, the more I find peace....which is, in a huge way, strange.



Thinking too much, while it very well IS a handicap for me, can be my biggest and best gift if I can learn to harness its overbearing power into a power for good. It's akin to finding out that you can fly but don't know how to navigate, control and set boundaries. Therein lies my constant challenge.



I need to take my brain to the spa.