Flying High

I love birds. They are beautiful, majestic and can do something I can’t – fly. I love them so much and find them so fabulous that I have owned many during the course of my life. Currently, I own a wonderful little Sun Conure named Captain Morgan. Well, it’s more accurate to say he owns me.

“Captain” is a small little guy from the parrot family. He is bright orange and yellow with green and blue on his wings and tail. He’s a conure but he thinks he’s a condor and he has the vocal chords to prove it.

I don’t have his wings clipped because he loves to zoom around the house flying when I let him out of his cage when I’m at home. He loves the freedom of flying. And I love to watch him fly. I can see the full color of his feathers and watch him as he charges about doing what he was built to do. (It brings my dog Gracie joy to as she tries to jump up and grab him but as he is generally 10 feet in the air Captain is quite safe.)

Recently Captain Morgan was sneezing a bit so off to his vet we went only to discover he had an upper respiratory infection. (Bird sneezes are devastatingly cute, by the way.) A course of oral antibiotics was ordered that would clear it up in a week or two. Trouble was I was going to have to give ‘ol Cap’t his liquid medicine twice a day for two weeks. Not an easy task when a bird has full flight.

To make my job easier the vet offered to clip a few feathers on each wing so Morgan would be easier to catch and wrap in a towel and medicate. Great idea, or so I thought.

Generally speaking clipping a bird's wings makes it harder for the bird to gain lift. The bird can usually glide a bit and it slows them down but the bird cannot gain altitude. Thus it is easy to catch them should they try an ill advised escape.

Not so much with my Captain. His clip job seemed to make him more aerodynamic. It actually made him faster and I think he made sharper turns and pivots. What was supposed to bring him down to earth, what I thought was an obstacle; he turned around and used his skills to exploit and use it to take him to greater heights. And I think he was having more fun than ever.

What the vet did for Captain, God did me. But while Captain recognized right away that his clipped wings didn’t mean he had to be grounded but instead he could fly better and faster, I did not learn my lesson so quickly.

God takes us through seasons of change or stillness or allows trouble to come all as part of our growth and walk with Him. There will be times when we are flying high and He will intentionally clip our wings. Not so He can watch us fall but so that we will draw closer to Him as we figure out that we can now actually fly better and faster than before.

I got my wings clipped pretty severally over two years ago. And for a while all I could focus on was what happened – losing my job. But I had to stop letting that define me. That is not who I was, it was just something that had to be dealt with. And while there were very dark days God had me in His hand the entire time taking me through my journey.

God promises that when He “clips” our wings that if we wait on Him, our strength will be renewed; we will mount up with “wings like eagles” and we shall run and not be weary and walk and not faint. (Is. 40:31) I for one can attest that I have more strength today than I ever thought I did two years ago before God started me down this road. Things I thought would wear me out or literally kill me did not. God is the only reason why.

If you have ever seen an eagle fly you know they very rarely flap their wings once aloft. Once airborne the eagle just rides the current, gliding ever higher and higher. Not struggling or straining to reach his soaring heights. That is what God is trying to do for us when he clips our wings and replaces them with the wings of eagles - watching us soar to glorious new heights in our full color splendor as He proudly rejoices.

No doubt clipping hurts. But sometimes that's the only way God can get us where He wants us to be. Doing what we were built to do. Flying high.

Captain better watch out, once I get the hang of my new wings I just might challenge him to a race.

~

The Lyricist

I love singing along with the songs on the radio. If I turn the volume up loud enough I sound really good too. I am very bad at knowing the names of songs or who the group or singer is but regardless when I hear a song I know and love I can’t help but join the band.

I addition to getting the title of the song and the name of the band wrong from time to time I might also get the lyrics wrong. This is not much of a problem when I am alone in my car. In fact, I think that my lyrics are at times an improvement over some of the words coming out of my woofers and tweeters.

Where this does present a problem is in a group setting particularly when I am not aware of the fact that I am in fact singing the wrong words. Case in point, when I was a teenager I was on a family car trip through some western states one summer. Somewhere along the way we procured a copy of an England Dan and John Ford Coley cassette tape. (Remember tapes?)

It was a great album. Every song was terrific and made you just want to sing along, which thank you very much I did along with the rest of my family, parents included. That is of course until the song “I’d Really Love To See You Tonight” came on. We were somewhere in northern New Mexico having a fine family sing-a-long when in my best seventies hippie rocker I belt out “I’m not talking about the linen…”

Without warning I hear laughter coming at me from all sides (middle children like me always had to sit in the middle). The comments were flying “What did you say?? What was That? The linen? What does that even mean? It’s not linen you fool, its Moving In – I’m not talking about moving in.”

The kidding and ribbing was endless. And this was just from mom and dad – I don’t even want to get into what my brothers had to say. And oh, did I mention, my older brother had his girlfriend with us? Beyond humiliating. I tried to explain why I thought “linen” would have worked in the song but there were no buyers for the story I was selling.

I wanted to die. Well, for about two seconds, then I too thought it was hilarious. I cannot listen to that song and not hear “linen” try as I might to hear the right lyrics. And every time it brings a big smile to my face.

I would like to think I learned something from that little lesson – I did - I only sing in private now. However, that has not cured my “lyric” problem. In fact it happened just this week, and its only Tuesday.

I was singing a song – alone in my car. One I’ve heard and sung dozens and dozens of times. I turn it up each time I do and regularly sing along. Yesterday I was singing right along and was just so joyous as I belted out “heroes conquered the grave…”

Suddenly, I was back in that family car driving through New Mexico – “Heroes? What does that even mean? It’s not heroes you fool, its He Rose – He rose and conquered the grave!” I started laughing so hard at myself at this realization. Of course the song makes much more sense that way. When I pulled in to park I had to clean the mascara off my cheeks before I went inside. I know God was having a good ‘ol laugh at that one too.

But the more I think about it my version works just fine. My Hero did conquer the grave. Jesus is my Hero. He overcame death. Death. Don’t know about you, but I consider that a big damn deal. And He did it for me; foolish ‘ol me (and you).

My Hero, He rose. And because He did I get to conquer the world of my dreams. Now that is something I could really sing about.

~

It's A Very Good Friday

"For God so loved the world that He gave His only begotten Son, that whoever believes in Him should not perish but have everlasting life."

John 3:16
~

Calisthenics

I grew up in the era of Jack LaLanne. I would watch him all the time as a child growing up. There he’d be next to his chair in his dark, taught work-out outfit; long pants mind you, no Richard Simmons-type shorts in those days, coaching me through simple calisthenic exercises. He’d get the viewer involved in jumping jacks, sit-ups, knee bends, push-ups and all kinds of things.

I really like Jack, I’m just not built for his line of work. I am not a graceful person. I’m lanky and long and rather clumsy. When I jog I cramp in all the places a person can cramp – sides, thighs, calves, even feet. When I ride my bike my lungs go on strike. You’d think I was a 5-pack a-day smoker for how often I have to stop and catch my breath some days. As for pull-ups and push-ups if I get past two or three someone get me a Gold medal.

I wasn’t always like this. In high school I was on the varsity basketball team. Mind you I was not first string, I hadn’t hit my growth spurt yet, but I was out there every practice and every game giving it my best. I played softball growing up too. While I never could hit the ball out of the park I was a darn good catcher and left fielder. Almost caught a fly ball for an out once. Swimming, though, was my real forte’ growing up and I have lots of third and fourth place ribbons to prove it.

As we can all see, I have no real sporting skills. I never have. But what I lacked in skill I more than made up for in desire. I was there at every practice for my soccer, softball, and basketball or swim team. To me the end result of winning was important but also as important as was the companionship and camaraderie of being on a team. Of pursuing a common goal, trying to accomplish something together.

As I grew up exercise no longer came in the form of fun group, team activities. Exercise for adults is mostly a solo affair. And solo exercise is boring exercise. What made exercising with Jack LaLanne on TV fun was Jack LaLanne. You didn’t feel like you were by yourself. That’s why people join gyms, so they don’t have to exercise alone. That’s also why people who buy home exercise equipment find they use it more for a clothes rack than a treadmill – it’s too boring to run indoors alone.

Somewhere along the way I simply stopped exercising in any systematic way. And that’s not good. Exercise is good for the body as well as the heart, mind and spirit. I do feel so much better after I exercise, even just a little exercise. So I made a New Year’s resolution. I resolved in the New Year to exercise every day. I am here to report so far so good.

Things have been going so well that I pumped it up a notch and I now exercise twice every day. It is fabulous and has had a profound change on my body, heart, mind and spirit.

Every morning, first thing, before I get dressed, before I turn on the news, before I let out the dog, before I have coffee I do my first exercise of the day – one deep knee bend. Some mornings the knee bend is quick, just a minute or two. Some mornings it’s a little longer. Whatever is required to give my body, heart, mind and spirit the exercise it needs that morning. Mostly, it is a moment to give praise for the day ahead.

At bed time, after I’ve closed down the house, finished playing with my animals and turned off the lights I do my last exercise routine of the day – one last deep knee bend. Again it may be a quick minute or two or a little longer depending on the events of the day and the needs of my heart, mind and spirit. Mostly, this is a time to say Thank You for the day I was just given.

The thing I like best is I don’t do my exercises alone. I have an Exercise Partner, sort of a Jack LaLanne type, with me guiding me, listening to me, encouraging me and just being with me while I’m doing my deep knee bends. Afterwards, during my cool-down and throughout the rest of the day or night my Exercise Partner is still with me.

And it doesn't matter how long I do my deep knee bends or what I say when I'm doing it. The important thing to my Exercise Partner is that I try, that I have the desire to spend just a bit of my day with Him before things get going and again at the close of the day I pause to reconnect. It's the intent that matters most, not the form. Which is great for a clumsy girl like me.

Exercising with my Partner is wonderful. It helps me to feel as if I’m back on a team working towards a common purpose or goal. Which in a way I am. My outlook is brighter; my heart is lighter; I walk taller and straighter; my gaze is higher and no longer downward.

Doing these deep knee bends every day, giving praise and thanks, helps me realize I’m not alone, it’s not me against the world. I have a Partner who is with me every step of the way. And that step starts with the first one I take in the morning and doesn’t stop even as I take my last as I climb into bed.

Exercise – turns out the simpler the better. Jack would be so proud.
~

Party Crasher

I consider myself to be quite a good hostess. I always try to put my best foot forward and make my guests feel right at home. I don’t throw a lot of parties but when I do they are usually something special.

I only have a couple of party rules – show up on time, leave on time (just ask the guests I once politely asked to leave while I brandished a golf club. Hey, when the invite says 7-10, I don’t mean 10:30), and if you’re not on the guest list you don’t get in (just ask the famous rock band I once escorted out of my house. Hey, I didn’t know who they were.)

Parties are fun because when you put a varied mix of people together you never know what might take place. All sorts of conversations and interesting things can happen. I have never thrown a party that turned out exactly like I thought it would. And that, I think, is the great thing about them. Their unpredictability.

Take the party I threw this weekend. I had a totally different theme and plan in mind. But once the guests started showing up the party sort of took on a life of its own.

The first guest to arrive was Grief. He is a big guy and we sat down for a big old chat. I had seen him rather recently and was not expecting to see him again so soon, but I guess he had some extra room on his schedule. Then Anger showed up, followed by Doubt and her sister Unbelief. Man, things were getting crowed over by the queso dip. The guests all seemed to know each other and things started rocking along.

Anger and Doubt were having a great conversation about the state of things. About how God never kicked people when they were down in any of the Gospels. Jesus always made the people He ran into better and helped them get to where they were going. He certainly didn’t leave them as He found them. So why does He seem to have changed His MO?

Grief and Unbelief were boogieing down to some great tunes on karaoke. One of my favorites was “Broken Dreams.” Grief then did this great solo of “Apparently Prayers Don’t Matter.” This was turning out to be one of my best parties of all time.

Wouldn’t you know it, just as my Pity Party was getting hot this Party Crasher shows up. Before I can shut the door on Him, He waltzes right in and gets comfy in my big leather chair. Then He looks me right in the eye and says, “What about Joseph?”

“What about Joseph?” I shoot back. “He had a colorful coat. Besides, like You, he’s not invited.”

“What about Joseph?” Party Crasher annoyingly repeats.

“Well, he had a dream or two. He told his brothers about it. They didn’t like him anyway and this made them really mad so they threw him in a well, then sold him into slavery and tore his coat and dipped it in goat’s blood and told his dad he was dead. Then while in slavery, his master’s wife lied about him and he was wrongly thrown into prison for years. While a prisoner, he helped a fellow prisoner who got out early and that guy forgot about Joseph. And Joseph continues to linger in prison for years. Looks like God forgot about him and his dreams too.” I said triumphantly.

“What about Joseph?” Party Crasher-repeater repeats.

“Well, if you must know, the former prisoner finally remembers Joseph. Tells the Pharaoh about him. Pharaoh gets Joseph out of prison. Joseph interprets a dream for Pharaoh and saves Egypt from a massive famine. Pharaoh puts Joseph in charge of all the land of Egypt. Joseph is now the number two person in authority in Egypt.” I told Him.

“What about Joseph?” Party Crasher asks without a hint of wryness.

“As I’m sure You know,” I said exasperatingly, “Joseph is reunited with his brothers when they come to Egypt during the famine to buy grain, which Joseph wisely had Egypt store during the prosperous years. His brothers do not recognize him at first. When he finally reveals himself they are terrified at what he might do to them as he is so powerful. Amazingly, Joseph is not angry with them. He tells them it is God that brought him to this place not them. What happened to him was so that he could be in a position to save the people of Egypt. God has used the bad for good.”

“What about Joseph?” Party Crasher asks one last time.

“All his dreams came true.” I finish slowly.

And with that, Party Crasher smiles and leaves.

As I return to my party, I realize my guests Grief, Anger, Doubt and Unbelief have all left. Instead I find Peace, Joy, Hope and Faith crowded around my table enjoying some home baked cookies and a hearty laugh. No need to chase any guest away with my golf club this time.

This just might be my greatest party of all time.
 ~

The Price Is Right

I am not a numismatist but I do enjoy coins. Coins give you a little glimpse into history if you study them. A US coin has the year it was minted, a letter referencing the city in which it was minted and the profile of one of our countries historical figures.

Coins are not static either. Ours keep changing. Take the penny. It once had a “wheat” back. On its reverse side there were two wheat fronds where now there is a relief of Lincoln’s Memorial. Even the nickel has evolved over time – once having an Indian head and a buffalo. Now it has Thomas Jefferson. And recently even Jefferson got a new look on his nickel.

Because I am so crazy for coins, I pick them up wherever I find them. I realize most are not worth too much – unless I happen upon a silver dollar, which never happens – but nonetheless I always stop, stoop and scoop up the lost coin.

I was recently walking through a parking lot with a friend when I happened upon an errant penny. I stopped to reclaim it and my friend turned and wondered aloud what I was up to. I told her I had found a penny and was picking it up. She told me “Yuck! Look at it. It’s gross and disgustingly dirty. Drop it!”

“No way,” I told her. I always pick up lost pennies and such, no matter how dirty. Money is money. It spends just the same clean or dirty. Coins and money are like that – they never lose their value. A penny is worth one cent no matter if it is a shiny new 2010 penny or an old, dirty, oil stained 1974 penny reclaimed from a parking lot. And lots of times they go up in value.

Too bad I’m not a coin or other type of money that never loses my value. Because there are days when I know I am completely worthless. Truth be told I’ve been feeling a lot like that these past months and year (or two (or forty)).

You ever have those seasons? Where everything you do or touch just wilts or withers? Every time you turn around someone else is getting your promotion? Your “atta girl”? Your breakthrough? You start off feeling pretty good, pretty worthwhile but endure a long, dry season and you and I can wind up feeling pretty empty and worthless. And I don’t know a feeling much worse than worthless.

I was having just that feeling the other day, feeling down and out, when I was cleaning up a grimy penny with some soap and water and old tooth brush. (I am a nerd that way.) That’s when God hit me right where it counts – I’m just like my grimy penny.

I’m not worth less just because I’ve been beat up a bit. I may not feel my value or worth but that does not mean I’m not priceless. I’m still as valuable as the day He breathed life into me. God helped me to understand that the Creator of the universe also created me and it’s an all out impossibility for me to lose value. Ever.

He showed me my value is not based on my bank account, my job description, my address, my relationship status or any other man-made criteria. My value is solely based on who I am in Him. I am just as worthy naked and penniless and standing on a corner as I am fully decked out in Armani, with millions in the bank and sitting in a penthouse suite. It’s Who made me that matters not what I have made of myself.

God put talents and gifts into me the day He thought me into existence. He put me together in such a way that He didn’t do for anyone else. He did the same for you that He didn’t recreate in me or anyone else. We are each a “masterpiece” of God. (EPH. 2:10). By definition masterpiece means one-of-a-kind. Priceless. God’s masterpiece does not depend on man’s definition of worth.

I am valuable but like my penny I am a bit grimy. There is only one thing left for me to do – allow God to take His soap and water and old tooth brush (He probably uses a new one) and clean the gunk and grime off of me and restore me.

Like coins, I‘m not static and I have changed and evolved over time. If you study me, especially the lines in my forty-mumble face, you can learn a bit of my history. And luckily, so too like coins, you and I have worth that far exceeds our face-value.

God minted each of us that way.

Soul Sighting

As the year turns to all things new and unknown it is time that I do as well. I started this site as a place to express and expound on my journey through life via the written word. I love the art of writing and from time to time God allows me to use language to describe what truly is the indescribable - His beauty and everlasting love. I plan to continue writing and exploring even more in the New Year.

However, the written word is at times wholly inadequate. It is true what "they" say - a picture is worth a thousand words. I am constantly taking pictures of God's majestic kingdom here on earth. And I find Him everywhere. So, I have started a second site which I am dedicating to those times when words just won't do. When sightings of God or of the Spirit or Love simply speak for themselves and bring God's own words to life.

It’s called Soul Sighting. Because when I see these things God simply pierces my soul and sets my heart on fire with His love.

It is my hope that you will find your soul set on fire from time to time too.
~

Loving the Low Life

I’m not allowed to dance. Not in public, anyway.

My friends and family discovered, long before I did, that I was not blessed with the grace or ability to dance. It seems that while my knees function just fine during walking and bending, my knees completely fail me when I dance. I sort of look like a stiff robot. This makes onlookers quite uncomfortable (or so I have been told.) So, I usually just sit on the side and sway in my seat and tap my toes.

There is one dance that I have not given up on, however. It may be the competitor in me but I cannot say no to the Limbo. You know, that Hawaiian concoction using a rapid drumbeat and a bamboo pole. Whenever someone starts one up I just have to see “how low can I go?”

As you might predict, given my ungraceful knee issues, I have never “gone very low” in a limbo dance. (One time I fell out of the dance so early I snuffed out a nearby tiki-torch for revenge. For which I was soon escorted from the event. But that’s another story.)

The limbo is interesting to me. Most competitions, be they dance or athletic, measure and reward the winner for lasting the longest, running the farthest, jumping the highest or achieving the most. It's one of the few challenges with a prize for going the lowest. And I think that is what appeals to me. The one who goes the lowest is rewarded for his or her efforts.

Jesus would have been great at the limbo. Here He was, the Son of God hanging out in Heaven on high but that was not the life for Him. Heaven, it seems, was too high a place for God’s Son to teach the world. So, the King left His home and got low.

Jesus was not sent to earth with all the power and prestige that rightfully belonged to Him. No, He was striped bare of all His position. He could have come in any form. As a full adult if He so chose. But instead He entered our world an infant with all the helplessness that brings.  He chose to go low in order to woo us.

Jesus’s birth was anything but what I would expect when a King is being born. There was no celebrating with extended family. We are not told of any of the usual birth celebration rituals of the day taking place for Jesus as they did for his cousin John born six months prior.

Mary and Joseph were not with family when they brought their son and the Son of God into the world. Joseph was a mere carpenter. They were teenagers. They were alone. In a stable. With hay for their son’s first bed.  Having to feed and change the Son of God.  In fact, the first ones to visit and celebrate Jesus were lowly shepherds. Nothing high and mighty there.

God is a big God and I expect Him to act in big and mighty ways. But when it came to arguably one of the most important events in the history of the world 1, God went low. And Jesus spent His entire life on earth “going low.” He didn’t call attention to Himself. His message was all about loving and helping other people, not yourself.

Loving through living the low life.

And people flocked to Him. He was approachable. He was humble. His heart was open to everyone – peasants and princes – alike. If God had sent Jesus to us in His true form and rightful position I don’t think it would have worked. Some would have been intimidated by His majesty; some would have been put off by a princely arrogance. Others would have ignored Him completely. But because of the way He arrived and the way He lived and the way He died (like a common criminal) He changed hearts, minds and lives. For all eternity.

Low was the only way to go.

Therein lies the challenge. How low can I go? It’s tough I admit. I don’t feel like livin’ “la vida low” sometimes. Because some days I get in the way of me. But when I do go low I love it. I find such peace in the low life. When I am able take my focus off myself and put it on others my spirit soars. That’s when I feel closest to My Savior – loving and living.

The dance is hard and I bump my head a lot on that bamboo pole because I’m not going low enough. But the good news is is that each day I get another chance at the dance and another chance to see how low I can go.

And the best part is no graceful knees required for this limbo dance.
_________________

1 - Big statement but every thing in history is divided into two time periods – before Christ’s birth and after it.

~

My Fortress

My fortress is mighty
Strong
And tall

The walls hold back the winds
The rains
And the storms

A mighty fortress
Whose protection is solid
Fierce and true

The rain seems relentless
The storm appears endless
The night feels bottomless

I do not fault the storms for coming
I do not fault the waves for raging
I do not fault the darkness for falling

A wall becomes mightier when fortified by rain
A fortress strengthened when buffeted by wind
A foundation solidified when christened by waves

My fortress is mighty
Strong
And tall
~

Inspired Wisdom

"Can't doesn't live here."  ~ Kelly Sumners

~