What I Learned on My Summer Vacation

I have been away. Sitting on a mountain; pondering the view. I have a lot to ponder and it was a beautiful view upon which to do my pondering.

What I have found is that at times when I seek answers I end up with more questions. But the new questions take me past the old questions but on to new, higher horizons.

I was very much looking forward to this summer’s trip because my trip last summer simply blew me away. I had encounters and conversations that changed me and challenged me and to which I returned in my mind and heart all year. I was hopeful this trip would be equally energizing.

But God doesn’t do things the same way twice. He may do it again, but it’s never the same. He’s a creative guy and likes to express that side of Himself to us.

Last year I got nature and lots of it, this year I got wildlife – or what I’ll call nurture. Animals and birds of all kinds were my constant companions. I could not seem to escape them. At times I felt like Cinderella or Snow White with all the forest animals following me (deer, elk, chipmunks, humming birds, finches) and chirping (humming birds, finches, hawks, blue jays, magpies) and barking (chipmunks, picas, marmots) at me.

It’s funny how I can sit by myself and find myself in the middle of a love-fest. Little creatures can teach a big creature so much. It occurred to me while sitting there that this wide expanse of earth exists solely for love and to support love. Being loved in return doesn’t seem to be on it's agenda. (Well maybe it is if that love comes in the form of sweet sugar-water or a banana chip left on a rock.)

Love. Its bigger than I give it credit for. It covers more than I let it. Its more than just romance. It’s about a Sacred Romance. And that makes all the difference. The One who invented love did not just give it to us. He gave it to all He created. He had to, He is love and that just rubs off on all He touches.

The longer I sat there all week the more I felt love coming from all I could see and hear and touch. And the more I relaxed the more I let it in. I mean really let it in to my bones. And once that kind of deep, abiding, ain’t-never-gonna-leave-no-matter-what love got in, the more I wanted to give it away.

Love doesn’t do me any good if I just absorb it like a sponge and keep it in my storehouse. It only feels like love when I give it away. It only feels like love when I pass on the gift that was given to me.

I get lost sometimes and think I can’t step out, I can’t step up; I’ll let someone else walk through that door or carry that load. But love, sacred love, is not like that. If I accept it I have to be willing to feel it, let it sink in and get all over me. And when that happens I’ve got no choice. This kind of love takes on an energy and life of its own within me. And it wants back out. And it feels awesome.

Perhaps this summer’s trip was just as energizing as last years. Who knew tiny little humming birds had such big hearts – and liked to share them?

~

Thought for the Day

Today is not a dress rehearsal;
your Audience is watching.

~

Let Freedom Ring

Happy Independence Day! Today is the 233 birthday of these United States of America. Today we stop and celebrate the brave men and women who took a courageous stand against tyranny and evil and sacrificed their lives and livelihoods so that we can enjoy ours in prosperity, peace and freedom. Today we celebrate our freedom fighters.

But as the saying goes, “freedom isn’t free.” No, freedom exacts a hefty price. And that price is sacrifice.

Our country is only free today because the men and women back in the 17th and 18th centuries believed that starting a new country and government free and apart from England was important enough to fight for. (And still is.) And sacrifice they did. (And still do.) But signing that Declaration was too important to our freedom to let fear stop them.

Surely they lost touch with friends and loved ones back in England, they lost homes and fortunes during the revolutionary war. Some became prisoners of war. Freedom came with a hefty price tag. But I imagine if we were to ask them today, they’d say it was worth it.

Our founding fathers didn’t go into battle alone. They had a role model to look to for inspiration and guidance. They had on their side the first and ultimate Freedom Fighter. The One who gave the ultimate sacrifice for freedom.

Freedom. What a beautiful gift it is. John wrote that “if the Son sets you free, you are free, indeed.” (John 8:36). Meaning that if you get freedom from the Son then you get major freedom and nobody can take it from you. That’s some freedom.

Jesus came to set us free – free from strife, free from worry, free from pain, free from harm, free from death. That last one is a doozy. And to free us from that our ultimate Freedom Fighter made the ultimate sacrifice for us.

And what’s really cool is that He didn’t do it in a generic, general “I do this for everybody who comes after me” way. He did it in a “I do this for you [insert your name here]” way.

Unlike our founding fathers, who we rightly honor today, our Freedom Fighter is still on the job. Protecting us and keeping us free. And He knows each of us – by name.

So, today when we are celebrating with family and friends and enjoying our hard fought freedom, let’s remember to take a moment to say Thank You to those who traded their freedom for ours.

Sacrifice – it's how you spell freedom.

~

Thought for the Day

"The way it always was
is no longer good enough..."

~Nichole Nordeman
~

Catch a Wave

Summer is here and its time to play. One of the great things about living 45 miles from the Gulf Coast is living so close to the Gulf Coast. The beach, the sand, the surf, the sun – there is so much to do. It’s hard to pack all the fun into just 3 months of summer.

One of the greatest things to do at the beach is surf. Wax up the board, paddle out, pick out the perfect wave and then ride high and tall on a wild one. Well, I guess that’s how it’s done. I’ve never actually surfed.

For starters, surfing around these parts is really quite laughable. The waves are small – unless of course a hurricane is stirring up the Gulf. The water is a milky brown so it’s hard to see anything – even your feet in ankle deep water – and really unappealing. So the whole surfing experience never really called to me growing up.

I have seen real surfers in action though and it does look like a blast. A couple of years ago I was in Hawaii, heaven for surfer types. I happened to be on a bluff which looked out over an area where the currents came together and created these massive waves.

There were surfers all over the place. I could see beginner surfers just trying to get their balance and old pros that could take a wave as small as a ripple and make a ride out of it.

What a joy it was to watch. Everyone at the mercy of the ocean and what she had to offer. And as soon as a surfer rode a wave in or crashed out on one too early they all turned their boards back out to sea to try to catch the next big wave.

It is interesting to watch the anatomy of a wave. I have always thought of waves as something that begins out at sea and comes crashing into land. But high atop my bluff with the surfers participating as unwitting dancers in the sea’s waltz I noticed something new. The wave actually begins near shore and heads out before circling back in.

As I watched one surfer paddle out, the water he was paddling through suddenly got very still and shallow. It looked as though nothing was happening and this would be a dry spell for him. Actually, the water was being pulled out to sea instead of pushed to shore. Beneath him was created a trough; he was in a valley of water.

What was happening was the water that had been below him rushed out and became part of the wave forming slowly in front of him. But as he sat on his board he could not see this happening. This water helped create and build the high mountain of a wave that he so desired to climb. The lower his valley was, the higher and bigger his wave was going to be. And the bigger the rush he was about to experience once he stood atop his board and rode his wave back in.

So, as he sat there thinking nothing was happening a lot was happening – his glorious trophy wave was being created by the water that had also created his still valley.

The surfer’s deep valley made his best wave possible.

I can learn a lot from that surfer. He didn't give up when the water got still. He didn't paddle back in when the tide got low and it looked like the waves would not come. He stuck it out. He stayed with his board and with the gifts, talents and skills that brought him to that point. He had the patience to see it through. He may have gotten a little sunburned but in the end his perseverance was rewarded. And he got the ride of his life at the top of his mountain.

The top of the mountain is where I always want to be – whether that mountain is made of water or my wildest dreams. And with that mountain there will always be a valley. I can’t let the valley keep me from my mountain because the valley is part of the mountain.

I have never surfed but I feel a mountainous wave dead ahead. I am going to catch it and ride it high. And with all the joy and freedom that riding it is going to bring.

Are you waxed up and ready for a ride?

~

Thought for the Day

"If you want to make God laugh, tell Him what your plans are."
- Lou Holtz

~

Map Quest

I don’t like to brag but I am an expert map folder. (folderer? I fold them, I don’t file them.) Anyway, I can put the map back together in correct folded-order on the first try. Even while driving. Please don’t tell the DPS.

This used to be quite a handy skill in the days before GPS navigation systems. Now, it seems paper maps are headed the way of Polaroid film. I love maps. Spread one out on a table and you can see the whole city or state at one time. Can’t do that with the fancy, schmancy GPS navigation system.

Maps also are a great way to look into the past. The world is constantly changing. It has been for, well always, so maps have been updated for the same length of time. Antique maps are a wonderful way to see how our world used to look before we “improved” upon it.

I love looking at old maps of Texas. Did you know that Texas was originally so awesomely big that part of Colorado actually was apart of the State of Texas. Can’t get that kind of history with a GPS navigation system.

But what I like most about maps is that they show the world as it is. They mark the intersections, the valleys, the mountain peaks, the dead ends and the straight-away highways.

Whenever I drive on a long trip I like to get my maps, lay them out and highlight my route. That way I know where I’m going, how long it will take, what cities I should get gas in, where I think I will be by nightfall, and what sights I might pass along my way. (I am a sucker for historical markers and small town museums.) I have never had a boring journey.

Never, in all the many times I have mapped out my routes, have I ever highlighted a straight line. Can’t be done. No road, even when planned by the best city, state, civil planners or corps of engineers goes straight forever. Eventually, it will run into a rock formation, a canyon, a river, a housing complex, a forest, an ocean, a lake, a mole hill. There will be detours.

Maps are great and all when I’m driving but what I really need right now is life-map. They don’t sell life-maps at the gas-station. And there is for sure no GPS navigation system to help me. What in the world am I going to spread across my dining room table? Sure there are actual maps in the bible but really those are of no help here. (Well maybe if I’m going to the Dead Sea on vacation but I’ve no plans for that.) So, how do I get to where I need to go?

So? So, I'll follow the One who has the map.

I went on a trip once to a friend’s river cabin. A whole group of us went. Several carloads of people. We all followed each other. I didn’t know how to get there on my own. I followed the one who knew the way. And I got there safe and sound.

That’s what I’ll do now. I’m going to follow the One who knows the way.

I know that I won’t know what’s up ahead because I’m not the one holding the map. I won’t see that valley coming or that big, fabulous mountain peak either. I’ll just have to be surprised. The path is sure to have lots of twists and turns and probably even a few round-a-bouts I'll get stuck in (ever driven in Europe?). And I imagine there might be a few versions of the map in use, afterall the Map Reader knows my history and I do keep changing. But I know if I keep my eyes straight ahead on Him I will not get lost.

Jesus has the map and He’s been interpreting them a lot longer than I have. He will help me with the dangers and pitfalls I’ll encounter. And He will be with me when there is more joy than my heart can hold. I have every confidence that if I follow Him I will complete my journey and reach my destination safe and sound. And I know it will not be boring.

I just hope He likes to stop off at the historical markers and museums.

~

Roadkill

Roadkill – the remains of an animal that has been killed on a road. Dead, done, flat out gone, expired, Elvis has left the building. The longer the animal lies dead in the roadway the flatter, deader and less identifiable the animal becomes due to repeatedly being run over. You’ve seen them and may have even run over the remains of one a time or two.

Poor little animal. All it was doing was crossing the road on its journey when Wham! before it could even react it was all over but the crying. And now there it lies lifeless and alone. There are people whose job it is to drive around our highways and byways and do nothing but pick up roadkill. Can you imagine such a job? (I guess you really have to be the outdoorsy type).

I can’t imagine being in the roadkill-cleanup business but I can tell you it is a nasty job. And it is not for the faint of heart. In fact, I recently met someone who has this job. And I can tell you they are indeed very special and have been endowed with skills just for this type of job. You should see him cleanup roadkill; it’s an experience like no other.

While animals are the most visible and easily identifiable, animals are not the only creatures to become roadkill victims. I know because I am roadkill.

I am roadkill in every sense of the word. I am done, expired, laid out flat, completely run over - dead. The only thing alive about me at all, literally, is the beating muscle of my heart. That is all that has been left for the buzzards to pick over.

There is simply nothing left of me. Life has been beat out of me and I do not have the strength to get it back. I cannot pull oxygen into my lungs – that would require use of muscles that I do not have strength to work. I cannot smile or laugh – that would require joy that is too heavy to carry.

I try to think and focus on what to do next but there is no wisdom or discernment left to help me figure out my way and get up off the road. The only thing I have an over abundance of are tears – those I have in never-ending supply.

Sometimes death comes quickly to roadkill, sometimes the creature lingers, hanging on to life, struggling to live only to be hit repeatedly before dyeing. My death was like that. I didn’t know I had been hit at first, I only knew I was wounded. It was only after repeated trouncings did my body, soul and spirit expire. I have been down so long I no longer recognize myself.

How did I get like this? I always look both ways before crossing the street. As I lay here prostrate to the world I told God it was over. I told Him I was done. I was roadkill on the road of life and I, most seriously and literally, had no strength or way of going on.

I told God that if He had a plan for my life, if He had somewhere He wanted me to go or wanted me to see then He was going to have to get inside my body and be me and take me there. I surrender.

I told God He was/is going to have to be my muscles and my strength, He will have to be my wisdom, my joy, my love, my creativity, my energy, my will, my grace, my discernment. He will have to be all these things in me, with me, for me. He cannot just give these things to me because I no longer have the strength to hold them or receive them myself. His are much better than mine ever were anyway.

And that’s when I met the roadkill-cleanup specialist. God sent His Specialist to clean me up, restore me and bring me back to life. I am still by the roadside but I am able to sit up and breathe.

I am only able to write these words – tear free! – because I believe God is rebuilding me through His Holy Spirit. No other way to explain the difference in the last few days, not one thing has changed in my outward life. But really, I don’t need a worldly explanation, God already gave me His - He said He will always be with me in the Valley of the Shadow of Death. (Ps. 23) "Shadow of Death" - never really paid attention to that part of the Psalm before. I have now. (I sure am ready for those Still Waters).

Please remember to look both ways before crossing the street but if you happen to become a roadkill victim, don’t worry I know a great cleanup guy.

Sometimes death comes as a hit and run but sometimes death comes as a hit and restore.

~

Thought for the Day

The greatest hitters in the baseball Hall of Fame failed 7 out of every 10 times they batted.

"The Favor of Your Reply is Requested..."

What if one day you accomplished something really cool you had always wanted to do? And what if you decided to throw a party to celebrate? What if you threw the party in your parents' house because it could hold more people than your own?

What if you sat down and wrote out your guest list? What if you personally selected each person on the invitation list? What if you made sure your dearest, closest, oldest friends were included in your celebration?

What if you went out and bought decorations, food, and beverages for your fabulous celebration? What if you prepared the home so that your friends would have a marvelous time and feel warm and welcome?

What if all your friends called and said “Yes” they would love to come celebrate your big accomplishment with you? What if they said they could not wait; the party was going to be such fun?

What if on the day of the party you looked great, the house looked great and the food looked great? What if all that was needed was your friends to make your celebration really great?

What if at the time the party was to start the door bell didn’t ring? What if an hour after that there was still no knock on the door? What if an hour after that the phone rang and one friend was running late but soon would be there? What if that friend never would actually be there? What if the house stood empty and silent?

What if you threw a party and nobody came?

You might think back on it some twenty years later and though you laugh it off when you tell the story, somewhere deep in your solar-plexus it still smarts. You still love your friends all the same but the memory of THE party is still there. But, I tell you what, you learned a mighty big lesson that night.

You learned that invitations are important. Very important. They may not be all that important to you; in fact from time to time you might even seem a little burdened or weary of getting them. You learned they are important to the one who sent them.

You learned how rude it is to just brush off an invitation after someone went to all the trouble to include you in their party. For all you know they had to exclude someone else to include you. No, invitations should not be taken for granted.

That is not to say that you have to accept all invitations. For the sociable types they would never get a day’s rest, poor dears. But you learned if you do accept an invitation to a party then good manners dictates that you go.

What you want to know now is how well have you been putting these lessons to actual use in the intervening twenty years. So you apply it to any current invitations:

In fact, you have been invited to a party – a daily party. Well, a lifetime party actually. And you for one admit that you have been most inconsistent in your RSVPing. Some days you say “Yes” and show up, some days you say “Yes” and don’t show up. And then there are the days when you flat out RSVP with a big fat “No Thank You.” Turns out you're human.

You know what I’ve learned from your little no-one-came-to-my-party debacle? You are not the only one who is hurt by your not showing up to God’s party. Sure, you hurt yourself. You miss out on all the blessings God had in store for you that day. But God is just as hurt – if not more so – by your refusal to honor Him and your relationship. Just like you were, the host, when no one came to your party.

Everyday God offers us a richness of Himself that includes (but is not limited to) His love, mercy, protection, blessings and life everlasting. When that is turned down, even for a brief moment, He is hurt so deeply. When we don't show up and receive Him He is hurt.

We feel because God feels. He is not some mystical being that exists in the ether that has no tactile connection to us. We are created in His likeness, His image. We are creative because He is creative. We are joyous because He is joyous. And we get our feelings hurt because He gets His feelings hurt. Whatever happens to us - happens to our Heavenly Father first.

And that includes getting bummed out 'cuz no one came to the party.

The thing about parties is there’re easy. All a guest has to do is show up. Nothing else is required but mere attendance.

What if even one friend would have come to your party? What if just one person had shown up? My guess is you would not be reliving this nightmare scenario right now. Your feelings would not have been hurt. You would have had twenty years of joyous memories instead of twenty years of hurt.

What a difference showing up makes. Just showing up. How easy is that? There’s an invitation in the mailbox, will you be showing up to the party?

Hope to see you there. (I'll be the one near the queso dip, with the smarting solar-plexus.)

~