Shakespeare in Love

I love Shakespeare. In High School, I got it, and that made me feel good. I got it, & I liked it & I enjoyed conveying it to those who didn't get it.
I love to read, and since High School, anytime I get to sit down & read Shakespeare to the point of comprehension & enjoyment is a victory in this busy
life - a victory I so rarely get.

When my daughters were born, I started a tradition. Every year at Christmas, I bought them a book. My theory was that if I started before they had hair,
then by the time they were old enough to read they would already have an enjoyable library. Now - at 9 & 10 - they love to read so much that I could put
nothing but books under the tree. Not that I ever would...

When they were 2 & 3, I bought a book called "Beautiful Stories from Shakespeare for Children". I loved it more than they did. I still do - simple text
conveying the wonderful stories in a way even a child can understand - Hamlet & Ophelia illustrated as children, even as they play out such adult themes as
betrayal, vengeance, or even suicide.

This summer, in my search for "things for kids to do after camp, so that the rest of the summer doesn't suck compared to camp", I found a class for girls
ages 8-18 at DePaul University. It was called "Shakespeare for Girls: the art of physical storytelling" Do I have to tell you what my girls did last week?
Jessica was Macbeth, & Rachel was in A Midsummer Night’s Dream. We pulled out the old book, we held plays in the living room, and once again, I got the joy
of watching my daughters enjoy something I enjoy.

Today, I went to church. I've been "back" at church for 5 months now. I am still overwhelmed by how much I took for granted "before"...before when I was
as much a part of my church as the bricks & pews. Now I have yet, in 5 months, to sit next to someone & know their name. It's the place I'm meant to be
right now, but it is nonetheless a strange place for someone who probably averaged 4 days a week in the same church over a period of 15 years ... "before"

So I'm sitting in church, settling in during the music, hoping for 1 more song to get my mind away from this headache & into the place where it needs to be.
I flip over the bulletin, to the place where I can fall into my obsessive disorder of filling in every blank, and instead of quizzing myself by seeing how
many of the scripture references I can get without looking them up, I'm faced with ... Shakespeare - Romeo & Juliet, to be precise - the balcony scene...

I immediately spot the sun & moon comparison, and relate at once to Romeo's disillusionment with false love shattering in the face of a love that is true.
But still, the sermon surprises me with a comparison of Juliet to Christ, and a fresh perspective is brought to bear on my life, my own disillusionment, and
most of all, on Christ in me, the hope of glory.

Late this afternoon, as I started up my favorite bike path in all the world, I was thinking about this place in my life where I find myself. It is certainly
a valley, one I hope doesn't last. But different from other low points in my life, I don't dread my time here or wish to escape it sooner than God would
have me to. This time, I find a sweetness & a humility in this place, and I am enjoying the knowledge that every nook & cranny of this place is designed for
my benefit, my healing, and my good.

Still, as I pedalled north, I pondered what it was about this valley that I wouldn't miss. The answer was "disconnection" - different from loneliness, as
that is not appropriate. I am busy, successful at work, in a good church, and spending better time with my children than I ever have. But I definitely
am lacking the intimacy that I have been accustomed to knowing in my relationships. Now, mind you, I left my church, divorced my husband & cohabitated
for over a year w/ a non believer, so one can hardly consider the current state of affairs as anything but for my benefit, my healing and my good. Yet
it wasn't difficult to pinpoint my least favorite part of this point in my life.

Lost in my thoughts, and easily winning the battle against self pity (again, there is so much good in this place), I missed the place where I usually
cross the river. Further north, I found a different bridge, that led right into the Batavia River Walk park. I heard amplified voices, & noticed a crowd.
It wasn't near dark yet, so I figured I'd take a break instead of going further on or turning around. As I approached, the costumes, the verbiage, the whole
flavor was unmistakable. Midsummer Night’s Theater presents Shakespeare in the Park - Much Ado About Nothing - Batavia River Walk, July 23 @ 7pm.

You've got to be kidding me. What was I just saying about feeling disconnected? Strike that, Lord. Leave me in this place, this place where you are
positively ridiculous, utterly hilarious, over the top, and completely committed to showing me how much you love me - truly, madly, deeply. And help me
to throw my head back & laugh with a joy I've never known to experience that love in big ways, small ways, medium ways, so many ways.

I am free to live. The very circumstances I bemoan leave me free on a Sunday afternoon to do what I want, when I want & experience something wonderful.
I am more free than I've ever been to live & work & parent & minister & laugh & love & read & be loved by one who would pursue me with such reckless
abandon as to leave heaven itself & bear the shame of a Roman cross and to further meet me in the park on a perfect midsummer's eve and remind me that
I am never alone, & least of all when I'm alone.