In Mourning

With all that is going on right now - the frantic holiday season, my upcoming one-year anniversary, Ross's many recent interviews, hopes to lead a new ladies' Bible study group and the unexpected passing of a young friend - I have been, until last night, too overwhelmed to write.  When too many thoughts and ideas crowd my mind, they are unable to flow as freely as they should.  Instead, they jostel each other, clamoring for space and voice, and, unable to move, they fester and rot.

Last night provided and unfortunate remedy to that.

The news of Melissa Lynch's sudden death yesterday was shocking and I know that most of us who called her our friend are numb, unable to process the fact that a vibrant and beautiful young lady and fellow actress is no longer with us.  I don't profess to have any answers to the painful, angry questions her passing has brought.  All I know is that I am praying to my God, the supplier of all needs, who will comfort those who mourn with the completeness of his love and mercy.

We need time to express our anger, our fear, our regret and our shock.  I don't believe that God condemns us when, in our confusion and outrage, we ask, "Why?"  I do believe that he wants us to run into his arms so he can bring us peace - although he doesn't always provide answers.  There likely isn't an answer that would satisfy us anyway.  Why so young a woman?  So beautiful and talented a friend?  Why so perfect a smile?  Yet, there is a measure of good that can emerge from all this...

Those of us who remain, who acted with her and therefore took a little part of her soul with us when we left Clarion, have regrouped.  People who have not had much contact, if any, in years, have found each other again, carrying the matching banners of mourning.  We have rediscovered common and beautiful memories - not only memories that involve Melissa and her great talent, but memories that remind us of why we fell in love with our art.  If we close our eyes, we can remember the glowing glory of standing under a single, golden spotlight...the giddy, nervous laughter of pre-show superstitions...the thrilling triumph of a standing ovation...the shared intimacy of creating lives and a histories out of nothing...

The radio station is frequently listen to, K-Love, often features a guest speaker during the morning show.  Yesterday, it was a pastor who has been encouraging his congregation not to make New Year's resolutions, but instead to choose just one word that will act as a lens through which they want to see themselves and their lives.  

The word that immediately came into my head as I drove the icy back roads to the bank yesterday morning was "relationship".  I had spent so many hours this past year fretting over not being a good enough wife, sister, daughter, friend, employee, Christian, leader.  I made myself sick comparing myself to people I considered more successful than myself.  I grew depressed and anxious, and more withdrawn than I had been previously.   All of the beneficial social and relationship-building skills I had gained through training at Starbucks, Dollar Bank and Berean Fellowship crumbled from disuse.  I wasn't spending much time with my friends.  I was sometimes reluctant to help at church, even though such work previously brought me joy.

It slowly dawned on me that feeding my insecurities was not the way to build and sustain healthy relationships.  I mean, I knew that and have always known that, but as I was driving, I just felt lightened by the reminder of that knowledge.  Relationships involve sacrifice, passion, effort and determination.  They rarely just happen, and even those that seem to happen organically still require nurturing and care.  I felt that God was reminding me about my duties to the people in my life with whom I have relationships: my husband, my family, my co-workers, my church and my friends.  And he reminded me that service to others cannot dwell in the same heart as self-loathing, so I must choose.

Just as I was beginning to make that decision daily, I was struck with the news of an old friend whose relationship I had let fade.  And I was filled with sadness and regret at both the news itself and the fact that I had lost touch with her - and myself.

Although I would much rather have been reignited by something other that the death of a charming young woman, I am determined that I will gather up the memories - and the potential - of passion into a beautiful bouquet and display them where I can see and enjoy them as often as a please...and allow them to remind me that nothing follows us to the grave but the relationships we have built.

A Muse of Fire...

...is how I will always remember Melissa Lynch.

Seriously, the girl was so passionate about everything you could almost feel sparks crackling in the air around her.  Physically, she was very pretty.  Pale skin, shining dark hair, a slight frame and a winning smile, but her eyes were what got you.  There was an intensity in them that was almost frightening.  It was as though she was about to lock horns with a stampeding bull - and end up with steak for dinner.  

It was one of her trademarks, that passion.

That same brand of passion didn't flow through all the actors I had met during my time at Clarion University.  Although there were many, many talented, adept, charming, brilliant people, that intense fire seemed reserved only for a few.  Miranda Scopel, for one.  She was one of those people whose fashion sense was from another era, who lived like she was dying, who could make any topic sound intriguing and maybe even a little scandalous.  Trevor Southworth was another.  He was another creature when he was onstage.  Almost inhuman, in the best possible way.  My God, these people were just...fireballs.  Not only good actors with good directorial and design instincts (there were a lot of people like that), but just so much energy and passion that sometimes you just wanted to sit them in a comfy chair with a blanket and a cup of chamomile tea to quiet them a bit.

I loved these people.  I always wanted to be one.  Melissa was one.

She was one of those versatile actresses who never got stuck in a certain type of role.  She played the innocent Wendy Darling in Peter Pan as adeptly and sincerely as she played the quiet, confident King of England in Henry V.  She had mastered numerous dialects and could whisk you to the hard-pressed streets of Brooklyn, New York, a southern plantation or the foggy, chilly coast of Ireland - with just a single phrase.

She was loud.  She was opinionated.  She loved to laugh and cause a scene.  She could be as proper or as unladylike as you could imagine, depending on her mood.  But there was nothing in the world she seemed to love more than the moment when she found her character...when she found the gesture she had been seeking, the tone of voice, the position, the stance, the motivation, the mood.  It was fascinating to watch, and an honor to be a part of.  I directed and acted with Melissa in several productions during the time we spent at Clarion, and if I were to honestly name the highlights of my educational career, she would be in the top two: directing Broadway Bound and acting in Henry V.  It was a thrill to pour my talent and passion into a performance with her, and I will never forget those opportunities I had.

Melissa went on to be among the few Acting graduates I knew who found success as an actor outside of college.  She returned to her hometown of Philadelphia and was building a career in reputable local venues when her life ended just a few hours ago.  She was involved in a car accident.  She wasn't even thirty.

She will be greatly missed.

The true magic of theatre is not in the set or the lighting or the music.  That takes talent and technology, and it is, of course, always a marvelous display of the work of the hands and mind of a designer or artist.  But creating a character out of nothing but black words on a white page is a different kind of magic.  It's the magic of the heart that only truly passionate actors ever get to share.  It's a spell woven by an enchantress who wants nothing more than to connect, to feel, to express.  And it's a love song that will spill over into every aspect of a life, even after that life has ended.  

Thank you, Melissa, for captivating us with your passion.  Thank you for reminding us that passion cannot survive without diligence and perseverance, and that passion is worthless without product.  Thank you for the memories that you have woven into our hearts, and for the great talent you shared so proudly and so freely, with those around you.  Thank you, Melissa, and good-bye.

"We are such stuff as dreams are made on, and our little life is rounded with a sleep."

Virgin Ears

When I was a child, the music that was popular was fairly mild by today's standards.  I listened to Paula Abdul, Boyz II Men, and Garth Brooks (I was a country fan for about three and a half weeks when I was 11 years old).  Everyone sang a lot about love, but even in the 80s and early 90s, most music wasn't too racy.  Innuendos were subtly intertwined with catchy new wave melodies, and I didn't have a clue that I was singing about sex along with Duran Duran and Cyndi Lauper.

When I was a teenager, N*Sync and Christina Aguilera were becoming popular.  I saw myself becoming more and more enthralled by the emotions that were encouraged by music - lust, loneliness, and love - as my adolescent hormones raged wildly out of control.  The fact that no boy I liked was interested in me probably helped pop music make its indelible stamp on my young psyche.  Come on...I wanted someone to want me the way guys wanted Brittany Spears when she sang "Baby One More Time".  Guys fell at her feet and she wasn't even trying!  I wanted a guy to feel about me the way the Backstreet Boys crooned about their dream girl.  I craved something I never quite understood, and I ached to know the captivation of real love as it was sung about in pop music - all-consuming, passionate, wild.

What I didn't understand at 19 was that much of what is sung about in pop music is no, in fact, love.  Though I admit my iPod is crammed with as many different kinds of music as you can imagine (yes, Enya is on there.  As are Sir Paul McCartney, Meat Loaf, and Green Day), I have found myself listening to the radio less and less these days.  I can't connect with singers like Ke$ha, who publicly stated that there is more to her personality than her glittery, drunken party image would imply.  With lyrics like those in "Take It Off" and "Booty Call", how am I supposed to think this woman wants anything more in life than to have sex and trash people's property?  I think Katy Perry has a great voice, a fun retro sense of style, and a creative mind.  However, songs like "Teenage Dream" just promote overt sensuality and premarital sex.  And, recently, Miley Cyrus has been under fire from all angles because of her sudden transition from perky tween pop-queen to ultra-dramatic sex kitten.

Forget the twelve year-olds in my church's youth group being influenced by this stuff; it's not something I want to influence me!  It's easy to believe the lie that being sexy is the way to win a man's affections.  We are fed that idea everywhere!  But the Bible advises women to be modest in dress (1 Timothy 2:9, which also talks about vanity being dangerous), and not to awaken love (or sensuality) until the proper time, which is after marriage (Song of Songs 2:7).  In fact, the Bible even warns men to avoid women who wish to gain attention and  manipulate them with sensuality (Proverbs 5).

And it's not just the pop princesses.  Male singers, too, bragging about how many women they have slept with, threatening to kill rivals, police officers, or anyone who opposes them, and boasting about the size of their bank accounts, are a discouraging image of masculinity as a whole. The Bible tells us that men are supposed to be respectful of women, treating older ones as mothers and younger ones as sisters (1 Timothy 5:2).  Lust got a lot of good men in trouble, including David, Solomon and Samson!  Scriptures also tell us to avoid giving in to wrath (Psalm 37:8), and to be wise with money, rather than storing it up uselessly (Proverbs 17:16, Ecclesiastes 5:10).  

Yet, lust, anger and greed are a large factor in much of popular music.  It's not just hip-hop and rap, which often get a bad rap (really, honestly...no pun intended) for lyrics about violence and the objectification of women.  Big, bombastic orchestral numbers like Lady Gaga's "Bad Romance" and 80's throwbacks like Neon Trees' "Animal" talk about sex as though it were as essential as food or water.  

Guess what?  It's not.

God did create sex to be thoroughly enjoyed.  He wanted us to want it!  It is a gift from his to gratify us physically, to intensify the bond between husband and wife, and to allow us to be blessed with children.

It was never intended to be a sloppy, drunken mess in a motel room between total strangers.

We made it that way.  Worse, we made that way desirable and acceptable.  We have been teaching our children, via television shows, movies and music, that married sex is boring and a chore, and that illicit affairs are thrilling, victimless crimes.  Children are having sex younger and younger, not realizing what kind of a commitment it is, and how dangerous it can be outside of a marital relationship.  

It doesn't have to be that way.