Wandering

 I’m not lost. I’m just wandering.

There is something to be said for living life without an anchor. By which I mean, living without anything to hold you down to one place, one job, one style of life, one set of friends.

It’s sometimes frightening to be so unleashed, of course. To find yourself flung into the GREAT UNKNOWN without any idea of where you are going to land. But the hard facts of life mean that no one, not even the most rooted and grounded and anchored person with a pension and a 401K actually knows what is going to happen next. It’s just the illusion of safety to think that what you have now you will still have tomorrow or even in 5 minutes.

Wandering is the ability to throw off those illusions and simply face the uncertainty head on. It’s a little bit like an adrenaline rush, but more than that it is a fantastic exercise in faith…a trust fall of epic proportions.

I suppose I ought to clarify that I’m not truly without any anchor. The hope I have in Christ is a rock-solid foundation that I can anchor into even while I’m wandering (Hebrews 6:19). It’s like true north on a compass. No matter where I wander, I’m not lost, and I never will be. So I don’t have to fear the uncertainty. I can embrace change and wildness and even a worldwide pandemic without losing myself or losing sight of what is important.

I know it isn’t truly feasible for some, and that others wander entirely unintentionally. However, if it is ever possible for you to do so, if ever you come across a chance where you think “if only I had time off” or “someday I’d really like to” and you feel that pull in your chest like your being drawn somewhere even though it doesn’t make sense, I say go. I mean, pray about it first. Don’t just jump off a bridge without looking. But go as often as you can. 

Learn new things. Meet new people. Experience new cultures.

Love God Always, first and last and forever.

Wander.

On America

It’s Independence Day in small town USA. The country pride is high.

Outside my window, fireworks crack the sky open. I think of mortars falling, of distant and not-so-distant gunfire. Of countries where there is no such thing as independence. And I think that America is great. I also think that it has grown so great that it no longer remembers why this holiday is so important.

Americans like tout the word freedom as if it is the secret pass-phrase into a superhero hideout. We celebrate ourselves as victorious heroes who overcame great odds, but the truth is that, for a very long time, this country has not known what it is not to be free. It has forgotten what it is to be small, powerless, beleaguered and belittled. It has forgotten the days when those flashes and that rumbling were made by cannon and muskets of enemy forces coming across the fields. More importantly, it has forgotten why those battles were fought in the first place. Those revolutionary battles were not fought to give us a birthright to luxury, but to give people the chance to strive for a better life.

One would think that a better life would make a better kind of people, more gracious, kinder. But separation from hardship has inured this nation to freedom. The desperate huddled masses are forgotten apart from a few media feeding frenzies if they get the proper pathetic photo or have the right political slant for the day.

 Consequently, the days of expansive welcome that inspired the poem “The New Colossus” to be placed on the Statue of Liberty, have been forgotten in proportion. Commiseration and compassion have on many levels been abandoned for nationalism and an ugly, fierce pride in something that begins to look more and more dystopian with every passing year.

Perhaps, America will remain great in terms of size and political power. But is it good? And what, dear friends, will it take to make it better? Don’t look to politicians. Or soldiers. This isn’t truly a matter of immigration policy or gun control or even desegregation. Legislation is never going to fix what is wrong with this country. What is wrong lies inside our hearts, our minds, places sacred and intangible—in our very souls. We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal. And until we are able to look at people, any people, and see that their souls are no different than ours, that their children are no different than our children, then we will continue this downward spiral, desperately grasping at whatever we think we need to keep us afloat, never realizing that all of these things we cling to so greedily are what is weighing us down.

I long for my country to be good, noble and worthy. I want to be able to be proud to live here, not because the country is amazing, but because it is full of people who are truly trying to be great.

“Keep, ancient lands, your storied pomp!” cries she

With silent lips. “Give me your tired, your poor,

Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free,

The wretched refuse of your teeming shore.

Send these, the homeless, tempest-tost to me,

I lift my lamp beside the golden door!”

THE NEW COLOSSUS

Emma Lazarus

Reflections

The year is nearly over.

I sit beside my fireplace with a pot of coffee brewing. The snow gleams outside in the sharp winter air.

This is not Arizona.

The whole landscape of my life has changed, and not just externally.

Last January, about this time, started thinking about going to work in a field hospital in a war zone. That decision led to so many other new and unexpected things that it’s hard to look back and understand exactly what has happened in these twelve months.

More than anything, I think, this year has made me grateful. Grateful for good friends, supportive family and the opportunities with which I have been blessed. Also, for perhaps the very first time in my life, being single has come to feel like that gift that married people always talk about in church. I’ve nothing against married people at church, but they do seem to talk a lot about this subject without much experience…anyway.

Being unattached even feels a little bit selfish at times. For those of you who are single and don’t feel this way, trust me, I understand. I’ve spent most of my adult life without being in a romantic relationship, knowing that I have so much to offer, but with nothing promising on the horizon. I know all about long days of Netflix alone and random wandering through coffee shops in the hopes that you might turn someone’s head—although its unlikely because everyone now has their head buried in laptop and headphones or cellphone. At times, the thought of spending the rest of my life without that “special someone” to remember my birthday, etc. felt like the worst prison sentence in the world. And that whole “it’s a gift from God” idea made me want to hit some people in the face a few times. (I never did)

This year changed all of that for a variety of reasons. Perhaps, some of it comes from simple maturity. Being on the other side of thirty I like to think I’ve gained a little bit of emotional fortitude and stability that was simply unattainable at twenty or twenty-five.

Apart from that, I was able to pick up and leave my job when I heard God call me to go to Iraq. And that being called, so clearly and resolutely, shoved everything else into second place. I was ready to die if that was what was required. I don’t say this to sound somehow holy or righteous, but just to explain that I had a cause, a reason to exist that was entirely outside of myself. Nothing can match that. In my mind, no human being on the planet could be worth missing out on that feeling. All you need is love, the song says. But I think all you really need is to be love. That is what makes life worth living.

Secondly, while I was in Iraq, I saw the toll being a mother takes on a woman. It’s an entire life of selflessness, being held at the mercy, sometimes unwillingly, of a tiny, fretful, fearful human being who doesn’t understand anything except its own needs. Of course I still love babies, and if the opportunity arose, I might gather up the courage to have one myself. But right now, I very much enjoy the fact that I can sleep in on my days off, only have to worry about washing my own clothes, and can choose to eat ice cream and chips for dinner if I like without worrying about setting a bad example. For you mothers, whether your babies are grown or still waking up in the middle of the night, you are amazing. Maybe you have found your calling in raising children, and if you have, then you should understand the amazing feeling of being able to do what you love.

For you single women (and men if you happen to read this), I don’t suggest that you try to pull on your big girl (or boy) boots and just deal like a happy human when you feel alone and forgotten. It’s almost impossible to do. But I do suggest that you first put your focus on God, and second, find something that you love to do. Not because it brings you close to possible mates (see, I have been there—I know how you think), but because you love doing it, because it gives your life meaning and glorifies God. That looks different for everyone. Maybe you clean houses for the elderly or cook meals for the sick or take a frazzled mother of three out for coffee. Whatever it is, find it and run with it until God gives you something else. And He will, because He is good. His plan is perfect, and He loves you.

All of these things, and so many others, made me realize that I like not having roots. I like being able to go where I’m called. It would take a very, very patient and persistent man to keep up with me. (Not to mention put up with all of my weird) I don’t know if such a man exists. I don’t know if he should. All I know is that I am glad to be who I am and where I am.

Next year is nearly here.

I wait eagerly to see what it brings.

~~~

Isaiah 43:4

Because you are precious in my eyes, and honored, and I love you

Shine

"Do all things without grumbling or disputing, that you may be blameless and innocent, children of God without blemish in the midst of a crooked and twisted generation, among whom you shine as lights in the world, holding fast to the word of life, so that in the day of Christ I may be proud that I did not run in vain or labor in vain."

Philippians 2:14-16

European Space Agency & NASA

 

This has never really been my favorite verse. As a child, it was liberally quoted to me by my parents, usually when I was complaining, which did not in all honesty make me any more likely to appreciate the truth of it. It's akin to the "children, obey your parents" verse that was also frequently referenced in my childhood. However, looking past all that, I've been thinking about this verse more and more recently.

I notice that Paul didn't write, "Do everything at home without grumbling," or "do not have disputes with your fellow Christians." He was, in fact, a little more broad in his instructions. And no matter how I look at it "all things" comes down to mean, basically, everything. Everything. So if I get stuck with an unfair assignment at work, or I have to stay late, or I'm in the long line at the grocery store and the lady in front of me can't figure out how to use her credit card, or I have to wait three hours for an oil change...those are all situations included in everything. In short, Paul is telling them to have a lifestyle where complaining simply does not exist...at all. The end result being that we shine.

Why? Because complaining is easy. Far easier for me than keeping my mouth shut and smiling.

So I tried it. I mean, I consciously decided I wasn't going to complain about anything at work. And, guess what? Life was so much easier. It wasn't that the situation was any better. I certainly could have used more help than I got, but somehow, it didn't matter as much as it usually does. I found that having made the decision, I turned to God more throughout the day, rather than just letting things ride.

It's amazing to me how I can have the attention, love and help of the God of the universe, who is beyond time and space, and I forget to ask him to work in me. Not just once or twice. I consistently forget that he is behind every good thing that I want to do, every worthwhile effort that I make. I don't think it's pride that makes me think I can get through on my own, because I know when I think about it, that I can't do it by myself. I do think it's habit. I have spent so much time focusing on myself, that I automatically look to myself for strength. And it just isn't there.

The best way to stop a bad habit is to replace it with a new one. So here it is. "Rejoice in the Lord always: again I will say, Rejoice. Let your reasonableness be known to everyone. The Lord is at hand; do not be anxious about anything, but in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known to God. And the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus." Philippians 4:4-7




 

Refuge

Have you ever heard that saying "He doesn't have enough sense to come in out of the rain?" As a rule, this is not a compliment. Usually, it's used to describe a person we find to be exceptionally dense or lacking in the most basic of common sense. Then I wondered, how often am I like that?

The Psalms are full of references to taking refuge in the Lord. 

Psalm 37:39-40 

"The salvation of the righteous is from the Lord; he is their stronghold in the time of trouble. The Lord helps them and delivers them; he delivers them from the wicked and saves them, because they take refuge in him."

Psalm 9:9

The Lord is a stronghold for the oppressed, a stronghold in times of trouble.

Psalm 18:30

This God--his way is perfect; the word of the Lord proves true; he is a shield for all those who take refuge in him.

And there are many references in the other books of the Bible speaking to the Lord being a refuge, stronghold, rock and shelter. But what good is such a shelter to me if I choose to stand outside in the rain and cry? What use is the best fortress if I won't go inside and seek protection from the one who owns it?

So often, I think, I see the storm building, and rather than running inside and watching through fire-lit windows, I choose to stand there and sulk about the rain and cold. Oh, praise the Lord, who saves even the souls of those who don't have enough sense to walk through open doors! Praise the Lord, who comes out to meet me in the storm and carries me into the light!

Three Snails and the Moon

As a preface, I'd like to say that I came up with this idea more for a children's book than anything else, and I have great ideas in my head about someday illustrating it...if ever I find the time. Please do enjoy, and as always, if you have any comments, let me know.



Three Snails and the Moon

    Once there was a lush garden, overflowing with every kind of fruit and vegetable. There were grapevines over the walls, stands of lemon and orange trees, bright banks of rosemary and basil and rows of apple and cherry trees. Strawberry bushes crowded in the shade next to tomato vines and tall stalks of golden corn.
    This garden was made specially for snails, who spent their days sleeping and their nights eating all the good food that the garden provided them through the careful care of the gardener.
    But everything was not well in the garden. The snails began to fight amongst themselves, arguing as to which one of them was the best. Finally, a very wise, old snail with a large coiled shell of orange and black came forward.
    “Let us end this dispute,” he said, slowly, which is how all snails speak. “For so much fighting is not good for us.”
    The other snails agreed with this idea.
    “But how will we decide who is best?” asked one snail, his shell a coil of chocolate brown and pale pink.
    “We will set a task that only the highest among us can complete,” said the wise old snail. “That will truly prove who is best.”
    And they all thought this was good.
    “What task will it be then?” asked one, his shell as black as coal as he glared at the others with his long eyestalks.
    “The moon,” said the wise, old snail. “Whichever snail can reach the moon will be the best.”
    “The moon!” said the coal-black snail. “Ha! That will be easy. I’ll show you that I am the best.” And so saying he started climbing the nearest cornstalk. Up and up and up went the courageous gastropod until he had reached the very top of the cornstalk.
    But still the moon was above him, vast and silver in the night sky.
    “Ha!” said another. “Surely I can get higher than that.” So he climbed the grapevines strewn over the wall. Up and up and up to the very tip top.
    But still the moon was above him, shining bright amid the stars.
    “You fools,” said the third, and his shell was green and red and black. “I will show you how to reach the moon.” So he climbed the oldest, tallest apple tree in the garden. Up and up and up. It was so tall that he had to stop and rest halfway through, then he climbed again. Up and up, and up and up. Finally, he clung to the very highest leaf of the apple tree.
    But still the moon was above him.
    On returning to the ground, the three snails began to argue again. The one who had climbed the apple tree claimed that he was better than the others because he had made it the highest.
    Finally, the wise, old snail intervened again. “Who reached the moon?” he asked.
    The three snails turned their eyestalks away.
    “I made it to the top of the cornstalk, but the moon was still too high to reach,” said the first.
    “I made it to the top of the wall, but the moon was still too high to reach,” said the second.
    “I made it to the top of the apple tree,” said the third. “Higher than these two could go.”
    “And did you reach the moon?” asked the wise, old snail.
    “It was still too high to reach,” said the third snail. “But I made it the highest.”
    “And was the contest to see who could make it the highest?” asked the wise, old snail.
    “Well, no,” said the third, shrinking a bit.
    “What was the task?” asked the wise, old snail, as if he had forgotten.
    “To reach the moon,” the other admitted grudgingly.
    “And have you done it?”
    “No,” said the third.
    “Then you have all failed equally,” said the wise, old snail. “Go and live in peace with each other.” And the wise, old snail pulled back into his shell as the morning sun rose over the garden. And he slept.

                                  ...and all our righteous acts are like filthy rags 
                                                                                              Isaiah 64:6

Soul-honey

Proverbs 24:13-14

My son, eat honey, for it is good, 

and the drippings of the honeycomb 

are sweet to your taste.

Know that wisdom is such to your soul; 

if you find it, there will be a future, 

and your hope will not be cut off.

This passage caught my attention today. Partly because I think "soul-honey" is an awesome word combination. I also did a little research. It turns out that honey isn't just a tasty treat. When applied to wounds as a balm, honey acts as a slow-release form of hydrogen peroxide, preventing infection--without the burn of pure hydrogen peroxide. It also has antioxidant and anti-inflammatory effects. Of course, none of this was known when this verse was written. I love finding out how the Bible proves it can be trusted in even the smallest ways.

It isn't a great leap to carry the metaphor to wisdom and the soul. Wisdom is antibacterial in that keeps organisms that start out small like greed, lust and anger from taking root and growing into great infections. It is also antioxidant in that it prevents slow, unnoticed decay of plain, seemingly harmless laxness that can ultimately lead to cancerous growths. Finally, wisdom is anti-inflammatory in its effects. "Good sense makes one slow to anger, and it is his glory to overlook an offense." Prov. 19:11

Having decided that wisdom is definitely worth finding: where to find it? We don't exactly have wisdom-combs (wisdom-hives?) hanging from every tree--or actually any that I know of, but Job 28 has a great poetic description of trying to find wisdom, and I would highly recommend reading the whole thing. These, however, are the highlights. Verses 12-15 state, "But where shall wisdom be found? And where is the place of understanding? Man does not know its worth, and it is not found in the land of the living. The deep says, 'It is not with me,' and the sea says, 'It is not with me.' It cannot be bought for gold, and silver cannot be weighed as its price." It seems someone who is genuinely seeking this miracle cure for the soul might at this point start getting worried. Fortunately, Job doesn't leave us hanging for long. Verse 23 says, "God understands the way to it, and he knows its place." And the chapter ends with, "Behold, the fear of the Lord, that is wisdom, and to turn away from evil is understanding."

Proverbs also has a lot to say about wisdom, often using a female personification to show what wisdom is and what it decidedly is not. Getting wisdom isn't always easy. Just as getting honey from a beehive isn't easy. It takes preparation, dedicated study and the right tools, but it is definitely worth the effects.

Beehive

Photo courtesy of Vards Uzvards

Living, the Dream

I am living in a dream

Only glimpses of the true life come through

And I question why what I see doesn't make sense

As I lay with my eyes closed

And my spirit caged inside this shell

Perception is distorted by the viewpoint

The fractured pieces are poor imitations

Mirror-images of what will be

Spiraling through a sleeping mind

But beyond there is the one

The truth that has saved

To see him

I must open my eyes

Wake from this dream

Fly from this cage

And

I am not afraid

Because the truth that has leaked through

Into my sleeping mind

Is far greater than this dream that I am living