Monday, January 02, 2012
From This Valley - Civil Wars
Oh, the desert dreams of a river
that will run down to the sea
like my heart longs for an ocean
to wash down over me.
Oh, won't you take me from this valley
to that mountain high above?
I will pray, pray, pray
until I see your smiling face.
I will pray, pray, pray
to the one I love.
Oh, the outcast dreams of acceptance,
just to find pure love's embrace
like an orphan longs for his mother.
May you hold me in your grace.
Won't you take me from this valley
to that mountain high above?
I will pray, pray, pray
until I see your smiling face.
I will pray, pray, pray
to the one I love.
Oh, the caged bird dreams of a strong wind
that will flow 'neath her wings.
Like a voice longs for a melody,
oh, Jesus carry me.
Won't you take me from this valley
to that mountain high above?
I will pray, pray, pray
until I see your smiling face.
I will pray, pray, pray
to the one I love.
I will pray, pray, pray
until I see your smiling face.
I will pray, pray, pray
to the one I love.
Friday, December 16, 2011
Norris Christmas Letter 2011
Across the miles,
and memories, and dear friendships, from our home to yours, greetings of Advent
Peace from the Norris Family! As 2011
comes to a close, we can all say this sure has been an interesting year. Read on, for a brief overview of what we have
been up to in the past 12 months.
A Junior and a Senior
As if life was not
rushing headlong faster than any of us could imagine, Kelly is now a Junior at
DePaul University in Chicago, and Heather is a Senior at Flintridge Sacred
Heart Academy. Kelly is looking forward
to her last 18 months of college instruction (after spending the past three
months with us here, as she finished some general ed classes in Southern
California), and to being fully certified as an elementary level teacher upon
graduation. From there, only God knows
what comes next, but the current plan is teaching someplace overseas for a few
years. She is quite used to world
travel, having almost spent last Christmas in London, close to being snowed in
on her way home from Livingstone, Zambia.
Heathrow in disarray, stranded in London, without luggage, and wearing
only sweats and Tom’s shoes, she spent the next 72 hours improvising a new wardrobe,
planning travel home, but also enjoying the snowy sights of London at
Christmastide! She made it home, via
Houston to Los Angeles, on the 21st; it was the best Christmas present of the
year for our family. Her smile on our doorstep will not quickly be forgotten.
Meanwhile, Heather’s
life is never a dull moment, with present plans for 15 (yes, count them)
separate college applications. Thus far
two acceptances, 13 more to go. We are
all so proud of Heather’s hard work, and Dad is just overjoyed he did not have
to write an application check to USC.
Stayed tuned for more news. The
fall presented a surprise, as Heather’s grace and poise (characteristics having
nothing at all to do with her Dad) propelled her to the final 30 young ladies to
be considered for the Tournament of Roses Royal Court. Alas, royalty was not to be, but Heather is
quite happy with her life as a commoner, and another year on Varsity softball. We love this girl.
Intramucosal Carcinoma of the Colon
Just a few words,
but the gravity they contain can be life changing. With those medical reference words, our lives
together as a family took a summer detour we did not expect. We don’t have a story of how our majestic and
exemplary faith made this experience entirely free of questions or worry. We learned deep lessons of love, commitment
and friendship from so many during this time.
Surgery was required, and the result: no evidence of ongoing serious cancer. In fact, what had previously looked likely
cancerous was in fact, benign. One more
related surgery is scheduled for later this month; a purely preventative
procedure. Nancy is back to full and
complete health, and we are all deeply and profoundly thankful. Words simply will not do. A word of prayer for one more short hospital
visit for Nancy would be a gift to us. The
doctors want to keep a close eye on her in the years to come, but for now, the
way ahead is clear. Suffice it to say,
we have a different understanding of the concept of the gift of each new day. And in thanks, and as a celebration, we will
be giving a financial gift this year in your names to the City of Hope (www.cityofhope.org), where Nancy received truly
remarkable and compassionate care. This
was a summer we will never forget.
More Modest and Thankfully Dull Adventures
As for me, the
balding guy who is the oldest around here, this has certainly been a year. From emails to and from Zambia, sitting in the
City of Hope hospital waiting room wondering about the future, to awaiting a
Rose Court announcement; it never, ever, got boring. This included a business trip to Alaska last
year just before Christmas (spotted several moose on major streets in
Anchorage, high temperature +15 degrees), a conference in Washington DC in
November, with a day to enjoy the nation’s capital. The year was filled with some wonderful musical
interludes with good friends, the Watkins Family hour at the Coronet, Alison
Kraus and Union Station under the stars at the Greek, The Civil Wars at the
Wiltern, and fall evenings at Disney Hall with good friends. A week at the beach at the close of summer,
complete with rooftop sunset dinners full of the kids and their friends and
much laughter. Summer evening barbeque
dinners on the back deck with friends old and new. Bruin games at Pauley with friends new. Life is rich and full, each day. Thankfulness abounds.
And so, in this past
year, as Kelly traveled to Livingstone, via London and Los Angeles, I wondered about
what seems to be the only event that can unite the people of these distant and
disparate cities. An event that occurred in obscurity more than two hundred
centuries ago, in a dusty village in the middle of, well, nowhere.
At the point of a single birth, everything changed. Time was carved in two. For everyone, forever. For countless thousands alone, with their thoughts on Los Angeles freeways, for the masses riding the London tube, and for the dusty streets of Livingstone. And even for you too, standing in your kitchen reading this Christmas letter. All these places, all us people, given a chance again. Given hope. Christmas hope. Christmas love. Across continents, and time zones, and time itself. This is what Christmas is all about.
Merry
Christmas from Steve, Nancy, Kelly, and Heather
Sunday, November 13, 2011
Thursday, October 27, 2011
Here and Heaven - Chris Thile and Aoife O'Donovan
This song is from the brand new album Goat Rodeo Sessions. I cannot believe how good this is.
With a hammer and nails and a fear of failure we are building a shed
Between here and heaven between the wait and the wedding
For as long as we both shall be dead to the world
Beyond the boys and the girls trying to keep us calm
We can practice our lines ‘till we’re deaf and blind to
Ourselves to each other and it’s
Fall not winter spring not summer cool not cold
And it’s warm not hot have we all forgotten that we’re getting old
With an arrow and bow and some seeds left to sow we are staking our claim
On ground so fertile we forget who we’ve hurt along the way
And reach out for a strange hand to hold
Someone strong but not bold enough to tear down the wall
Cause we ain’t lost enough to find the stars aren’t crossed
Why lie and why fall hard not soft into
Fall not winter spring not summer cool not cold
And it’s warm not hot have we all forgotten that we’re getting old
With a hammer and nails and a fear of failure we are building a shed
Between here and heaven between the wait and the wedding
For as long as we both shall be dead to the world
Beyond the boys and the girls trying to keep us calm
We can practice our lines ‘till we’re deaf and blind to
Ourselves to each other and it’s
Fall not winter spring not summer cool not cold
And it’s warm not hot have we all forgotten that we’re getting old
With an arrow and bow and some seeds left to sow we are staking our claim
On ground so fertile we forget who we’ve hurt along the way
And reach out for a strange hand to hold
Someone strong but not bold enough to tear down the wall
Cause we ain’t lost enough to find the stars aren’t crossed
Why lie and why fall hard not soft into
Fall not winter spring not summer cool not cold
And it’s warm not hot have we all forgotten that we’re getting old
Monday, October 24, 2011
Of Princesses and Commoners
Sometimes it might be the better thing to not be among the chosen.
You would think that at my age, I might have a better grip on this rather fundamental concept; that I might have the basic priorities of life sorted out. But, due to a somewhat narrow minded perspective on life, and my decidedly clay-like feet, it seems I still have much learning to do. Over in the past couple of weeks, I have again learned something I should have known very well all along. And my daughter has taught me this lesson.
The (Seemingly) Important Thing - Becoming a Princess
In late September, Younger Daughter decided that she, like almost all of her Senior class at school, would try out for the Tournament of Roses Royal Court. It seems almost all (only about 120) of the girls try out for what is known locally as "The Royal Court" (note the capitalization) mostly for the fun of it. The Court consists of 7 young ladies from throughout the San Gabriel Valley, who are chosen to represent the Tournament of Roses each year, and to "officiate" over the Rose Parade on January 1st. The field of applicants starts out with roughly 1,000, and is narrowed down over several weeks and interviews to a final field of 34, prior to the big announcement of the Royal Court, comprised of seven young ladies.
As fate, seemingly random selection, and (biased Dad portion here) poise and warmth would have it, over the several weeks of Rose Court tryouts, Younger Daughter ended up in the final field of 34, who would stand up before the press and local dignitaries to hear the announcement of the Princesses of the Royal Court. The Chosen Ones. The girls in the final cut spent an afternoon at the famous Tournament House, being photographed and meeting with the press. My daughter, meeting the press. Has a strange sound to it. In local social circles this is considered something elite, classy, and certainly the ideal compliment to a young lady. Selection for the Royal Court means you have "made it" socially, that have been "chosen" by society; and that, in a way, you might even be, in some ways, royal.
And so, on a sunny Monday morning, parents, families, friends, and the press all gathered on the Tournament House lawn, to learn who would be selected for the Royal Court. Long story short, the finalist who lives in our house got to return home later that same morning as a commoner. She was happy for the journey, slightly disappointed, but fine with the life she leads. I do love that girl.
The Common Thing
At about the same time all of this social fomenting was going on, something else happened in the life of Younger Daughter. Something more mundane, not glamorous. Just a school assembly on an otherwise unremarkable Thursday morning, for a cause that doesn't get much press at all. Little limelight, and not something for social climbers. A common thing. To be more honest, this sort of assembly was about a subject many of us don't really do well with. This assembly involves those in our society who are often not noticed, those who will be certainly never be chosen for any Royal Court having anything to do with the Rose Parade.
This was an assembly about helping families with children who have Down Syndrome.
Club21 is a learning, support, and resource center for those with Down Syndrome. It was started by our dear friend, just four years ago, in the living room of her home. Our family is blessed beyond measure to be a part of this effort. For 14 years now, we have known Molly, our friends' daughter who has Down Syndrome. As a result of this friendship, Younger Daughter has, on her own, taken this cause to heart. For some time now, she has been planning to lead this assembly, as she felt her classmates, all 400+ of them at her school, needed to learn about families and kids with Downs, and how they might help.
And so, on that Thursday morning, the gymnasium at Flintridge Sacred Heart Academy filled with noisy high school girls, and with families of children with Down Syndrome. An unlikely combination, two people groups who otherwise would not meet. Girls who have everything, and special needs kids who need, well, a lot. And they will continue to need a lot. For a lifetime. These are not kids you can afford to believe in for a just month, or a year.
One by one, families of Down Syndrome children got up and shared their stories. Stories of disappointment, confusion, frustration, challenges, sadness, and joy. Lots of joy. After just a few moments, that raucous gym quieted to the point where you could hear a pin drop. The assembly went on for almost an hour. I have never seen more focused attention from so many high school girls in my life. The girls were encouraged to take part in a charity walk that will benefit the families and kids of Club21. This will not make the social pages of the paper, but it will make a difference in terms none of us have the ability to measure.
And so, in the end, although Younger Daughter will always be a Princess in my eyes, its the commoner in her that I really love. And, often its better to be among the unchosen.
You would think that at my age, I might have a better grip on this rather fundamental concept; that I might have the basic priorities of life sorted out. But, due to a somewhat narrow minded perspective on life, and my decidedly clay-like feet, it seems I still have much learning to do. Over in the past couple of weeks, I have again learned something I should have known very well all along. And my daughter has taught me this lesson.
The (Seemingly) Important Thing - Becoming a Princess
In late September, Younger Daughter decided that she, like almost all of her Senior class at school, would try out for the Tournament of Roses Royal Court. It seems almost all (only about 120) of the girls try out for what is known locally as "The Royal Court" (note the capitalization) mostly for the fun of it. The Court consists of 7 young ladies from throughout the San Gabriel Valley, who are chosen to represent the Tournament of Roses each year, and to "officiate" over the Rose Parade on January 1st. The field of applicants starts out with roughly 1,000, and is narrowed down over several weeks and interviews to a final field of 34, prior to the big announcement of the Royal Court, comprised of seven young ladies.
As fate, seemingly random selection, and (biased Dad portion here) poise and warmth would have it, over the several weeks of Rose Court tryouts, Younger Daughter ended up in the final field of 34, who would stand up before the press and local dignitaries to hear the announcement of the Princesses of the Royal Court. The Chosen Ones. The girls in the final cut spent an afternoon at the famous Tournament House, being photographed and meeting with the press. My daughter, meeting the press. Has a strange sound to it. In local social circles this is considered something elite, classy, and certainly the ideal compliment to a young lady. Selection for the Royal Court means you have "made it" socially, that have been "chosen" by society; and that, in a way, you might even be, in some ways, royal.
And so, on a sunny Monday morning, parents, families, friends, and the press all gathered on the Tournament House lawn, to learn who would be selected for the Royal Court. Long story short, the finalist who lives in our house got to return home later that same morning as a commoner. She was happy for the journey, slightly disappointed, but fine with the life she leads. I do love that girl.
The Common Thing
At about the same time all of this social fomenting was going on, something else happened in the life of Younger Daughter. Something more mundane, not glamorous. Just a school assembly on an otherwise unremarkable Thursday morning, for a cause that doesn't get much press at all. Little limelight, and not something for social climbers. A common thing. To be more honest, this sort of assembly was about a subject many of us don't really do well with. This assembly involves those in our society who are often not noticed, those who will be certainly never be chosen for any Royal Court having anything to do with the Rose Parade.
This was an assembly about helping families with children who have Down Syndrome.
Club21 is a learning, support, and resource center for those with Down Syndrome. It was started by our dear friend, just four years ago, in the living room of her home. Our family is blessed beyond measure to be a part of this effort. For 14 years now, we have known Molly, our friends' daughter who has Down Syndrome. As a result of this friendship, Younger Daughter has, on her own, taken this cause to heart. For some time now, she has been planning to lead this assembly, as she felt her classmates, all 400+ of them at her school, needed to learn about families and kids with Downs, and how they might help.
And so, on that Thursday morning, the gymnasium at Flintridge Sacred Heart Academy filled with noisy high school girls, and with families of children with Down Syndrome. An unlikely combination, two people groups who otherwise would not meet. Girls who have everything, and special needs kids who need, well, a lot. And they will continue to need a lot. For a lifetime. These are not kids you can afford to believe in for a just month, or a year.
One by one, families of Down Syndrome children got up and shared their stories. Stories of disappointment, confusion, frustration, challenges, sadness, and joy. Lots of joy. After just a few moments, that raucous gym quieted to the point where you could hear a pin drop. The assembly went on for almost an hour. I have never seen more focused attention from so many high school girls in my life. The girls were encouraged to take part in a charity walk that will benefit the families and kids of Club21. This will not make the social pages of the paper, but it will make a difference in terms none of us have the ability to measure.
And so, in the end, although Younger Daughter will always be a Princess in my eyes, its the commoner in her that I really love. And, often its better to be among the unchosen.
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