Triangle rocks

I have never seen square rocks before.  Well, not ones that weren't formed by human hands.  I mean, we have all seen pavers and bricks and tile and well...you get the idea.  But I have never seen square rocks formed by the ocean.  We originally stopped at Moose Point State Park to let the kids stretch their legs and lungs during a trek to Northern Maine for work.  I never expected to be provoked to wonder and awe as I was during our time there.

The little ones ran ahead with Rahne.  Down the steps to the rocky coast they traipsed.  Surely tide pools and adventure were waiting and they didn't want to waste a minute.  My 13 year-old lingered with me and I was soon bent over to get a closer look at the rocks shifting beneath our feet.

Instead of smooth-edged pebbles,  I saw geometry.  If I had a ruler and a protractor in my pocket, it only would have verified God's beauty and symmetry expressed in nature that was unfolding under my steps.   I picked up a square, an isosceles triangle, then an equilateral triangle too.  I soon filtered and discarded some of my earlier finds as I realized how common they were on this beach.  I found one as thin as an After Eight mint and exactly the same size.  These were a favorite treat of my Dad when I was little, and I tucked the square mint rock in my pocket.

I realized I was mind-blown- muttering under my breath as Sadie came back to show me a beautiful crab shell she had discovered.  I opened my hands and displayed the rocks for her to see.  "Whoa!  That's crazy!!  This is the beach of the geeks!"  I agreed and said "It looks like a brick factory exploded here.  I just don't understand why they are like this?"  

Haven't we all wondered the same thing before?  We take the circumstances in our lives and look to God and ask Him why we have to experience the sharp edges.  We want our lives to be smooth pebbles and beach glass.  The kind that you can tuck in a small wicker basket in your guest room and smile at whenever you pass by.  No one displays oxidized, jagged shards among the lace--but I will.

This has been a difficult year for our family.  My 8 year-old son has been diagnosed with a progressive, retinal eye condition called Stargardt Disease and we have all been adjusting to that new reality.  He has become more emotional and so have I.  I haven't been angry at God or even questioned why he would bring this into Eli's life as a particular trial for him.  I really haven't.  I just find that I am always bubbling just below the surface and I spill into tears at things that would never make me emotional before.  Things ridiculous as when I read about a new military discount.  "That is so sweet of them!"  I love saving money, but generally not enough to dab my eyes at the though of saving 5% on a taco.  I suppose it has uncovered in me a new sensitive spot, that doesn't have its callous yet.  The kind of thing that lingers in the background and when something brings it to the forefront stabs you in the stomach a bit.  It's still sharp.

Next summer, we are planning on heading out West so Eli can see animals before his eyesight gets any "weirder"- as he says.  He is quite an animal expert,  having memorized all the facts presented on every episode of the Wild Kratts-- his favorite TV show.  So, we will embark on an RV journey of some variety and head towards Yellowstone, the Tetons and Colorado in search of Buffalo and bear.  (I do realize more planning has to go on here...)  When we get there on the ground, I will see what I have only previously flown over. Save a short stint in MO, I have always lived on the East coast, and I am excited to gain a new perspective.  A new view- to see how those jagged rocks look when you are right at their feet instead of 30,000 feet above. 

My perspective on mountains has been one of Green, White, Appalachian, and Adirondack.  They are (mostly) smooth, rolling forested blankets of shag carpet that form the most magnificent 70's tribute tever during his time of year.   They ebb and flow in waves of intensity,  all virtually shouting God's Glory to the tourists who flock to New England in Oct.  My surroundings have been worn, shaped and measured over time.

I am looking forward to seeing the spires, cliffs and dramatic peaks of the West next summer.  I am hoping God will use the journey there to soften the edges of my new peak or to show us how to find the beauty it has for itself.  Certainly you wouldn't meet anyone who has experienced  Rockies and Appalachians and would say either is ugly.  They would simply say they are different.  Born of different circumstances and changed over time they have matured into identifiable measures of God's creation.  One brash.  Adolescent.  The other soothing.  Maternal.  Triangle rocks and beach glass. 

**Note-- This was buttoned-up, but never published last September.  Tomorrow we leave for our trip out West.  The time has come <3 p="">

Soul-first

I have already delved into the deeps of my unreasonable obsession with quotes. For the past few months, I have been posting a quote-of-the-day on our church's Facebook page. Every morning I sip my coffee in the early-morning quiet and sift through websites looking for some new or inspiring saying that I think will encourage or challenge my friends. This morning, after I had neatly pasted one onto the wall, I decided to browse for one for my own page. Something that could capture my thoughts better than I could relay them.

You don't have a soul. You are a Soul. You have a body.
C. S. Lewis

I was simply awestruck with the mind-blowing simplicity of these three, short sentences. What I had been searching for was something that summarized the 4,326 thoughts and concerns that are swimming in my head right now. The fact that I just sent my husband off to hang out with the Army for a couple of weeks. That I will attempt to load all 3 of my kids onto a plane by myself for the first time on Wednesday and trek to GA to see said husband play his saxophone as part of the Army band for the only time in his career. That there are contracts to get out for work, small kids to be loved-on, the inspection on the car (currently residing at the airport) is overdue, my parents want more loving via e-mail and I want someone to come look at this house so it can sell. Somewhat overriding all of this is a pesky physical concern that is limiting my ability to do many of these things as quickly, and carelessly as I would like. In September, I will have my 3rd surgery on my left ankle. This one- officially titled a Modified Kidner Procedure- will repair a torn tendon, shell out an "extra" bone and anchor the tendon back where it was supposed to be in the first place. In the meantime, I am supposed to "do what I can" and "respect my limits." The problem with both of these things is that it doesn't necessarily hurt while I am doing things. Instead, it waits until later to flare and then leaves me wondering just what "thing" I did that aggravated it. Passive aggressive don't you think? In any case, it is a new filter to the way I view my life as I have to allow for extra time or make choices based on what I can physically do.

When I would help a med student preparing for board exams, I used to tell them, "you can control nearly everything about test day-- except the question draw. But- you can learn to control your reaction to that." By viewing ourselves as a physical being whose state of being is controlled by how we feel physically and emotionally, we are reactionary. We prepare for what we can and try our best to temper ourselves based on what we think will come. Driven by how we "feel," every day could find us in a new place. Reacting, like my test-takers to the question in front of us and making decisions based on strategies for best outcomes--one question at a time.

What Lewis proposes is radical in its simplicity. If we view ourselves as a soul first, then we nurture that first- not the physical. We prepare the soul by feeding it a steady diet of Truth. After all, the soul is infinite, the body temporary. But in this short life, we spend so much more time tending to the physical at the expense of the spiritual. Massaging, exfoliating, medicating, trimming, feeding, grooming and loving the body to make it presentable. Hiding flaws, boosting assets, clothing it in trendy fashions in order to establish a physical identity. How much time do we devote to tending the immortal soul? What if we looked to equip the soul first- the body second? Viewing the body as a possession rather than as an identity?

I can't claim to be innocent here. I have a job that (newly) requires me to wear suits when I am in the public eye. I buy the nicest ones I can afford. I try to make sure they enhance parts I am proud of and mask those that motherhood has um...altered. I am just grateful to have come across this quote today. To add another lens to the filter that I now employ. That while I may need to alter my physical activities, that is all it alters.

I believe I have friends that have already made this switch in thinking. I bet you do too. Mature Christians who struggle with long-term physical disabilities and concerns who refuse to be defined by their illnesses or handicaps. Their souls shining brightly as a testimony above a physical body that others may not even consider. I have thought about just how amazing and revolutionary that sort of behavior is. It flies in the face of what people think "should" be the case..that having a chronic condition should find you in despair. Instead, my friends have seen that fact that God has a greater purpose for them (as he does for all of us) and they choose to focus soul-first rather than body-first. Physical challenges remain- of course- but their identity is not reactionary to the experiences they have.

As I said, this nagging ankle thing is pesky. It is akin to a mosquito that robs you of your night's rest. Just enough to distract your thoughts from the important things of life. When I had my first surgery 15 years ago (nearly to the day,) I was just getting ready to be married and my only concern as I sat across from the surgeon was that I be able to walk down the aisle under my own power some 3 months later. 18 months ago, when I had surgery number 2, I just wanted it over-with so I could get back to work-- back to running. Now, I find myself wanting this experience to change me. I don't need to walk down the aisle again- my groom and I are still honeymooning. It is no longer about running, though I would love to be able to do so again. I have a boss that supports me and will cover my travel. This time, I want to heal physically and change my perspective. To take the time I would spend doing physical things and invest them in pumping up the eternal. To lay up treasure that "moth nor rust will corrupt."

I want to be soul-first.

On grafts and growing

"Wherefore lay apart all filthiness and superfluity of naughtiness, and receive with meekness the engrafted word, which is able to save your souls." James 1:21


Now I don't claim to be educated in Bible school- I studied physics and (later) business. I don't think I have ever taught a Bible verse to anyone over the age of 10. I have only spoken at a ladies' fellowship once-- and that was about morning glories-- yet I am not much of a gardener. But this passage has stuck with me like none before. Simply read as an illustration in our Sunday School class, it really pushed me. "The engrafted word..."


A quick Google turned up Wikipedia (which I realize is not the utmost authority on all things, but will do fine for a simple definition!) : "In most cases, one plant is selected for its roots, and this is called the stock or rootstock. The other plant is selected for its stems, leaves, flowers, or fruits and is called the scion. The scion contains the desired genes to be duplicated in future production by the stock/scion plant."

So we are the rootstock, the teachings of God the scion. When grown together, the new plant will produce something new, something more desirious than the rootstock would have developed on its own. The beautiful thing is that as roostock, we have the most compassionate Gardener ever. God himself sees our position as rootstock-- open to change and ready to accept a Christ-filled scion. So the pruning and engraftment begins. Our destiny instantly changed from that of the self-fulfilling rootstock plant. Whithered fruit of disappointment, born on hollow, thorned branches of unfulfillment are neatly snipped away. Deftly removed just above the foundation that holds the solid soul. In its place, the perfect, pure, brilliant sinless scion. Selected for what it will bear, the branches heavy with the Fruit of the Spirit. The very marrow dripping with the love of God Himself.


Another visit to our online encylcopedia will show that the most important time for the future of the new hybridized plant are the days immediately following the engraftment. Careful precautions must be taken to ensure that the site is protected until the rootstock fully accepts the scion as its own and begins to grow anew. New Christians we are very much the same way. The start of a relationship with Christ marks a turing point in a person's life. Much like the rootstock has given up it's former identity, we are reborn-

"Therefore if any man be in Christ, he is a new creature: old things are passed away; behold, all things are become new" II Corinthians 5:17.

It is equally impossible to be in Christ and remain unchanged as it is for the engrafted plant to bear the fruit of its original rootstock. This does not happen over night any more for the new Christian than it does for the new plant. The site of engraftment on the stalk of a plant is wrapped, supported, fertilized and carefully monitored for any trace of infection, rejection or weakness. The watchful eye of the gardener keeping careful note of anything amiss. "Old things" pass away over time. Change can be tough and the tug to return to old habits can be powerful. Plants don't face rejection from their former rootstock friends (or at least I don't think they do,) but certainly this weighs on someone after the initial exhiliration of a newfound relationship with Christ wears off. God has provided the local church to act as the wrap for the engraftment site- the heart of the newborn Christian. Building each other up in love is the reason for fellowship. To pray, to support, to laugh and encourage. To bear each others burdens as though they were our own. "Plant" yourself firmly at the feet of God and let him tend your soul. Be deliberate about seeking out fellow engrafted folks and see if we can't all nurture each other in this rocky soil of life. After all, we are all hybrids in the Lord's beautiful garden-- just waiting for his glorious harvest.

Quotable quotes...

So I used to be the sort of person who did things by a schedule. I would methodically enter everything in my green nylon planner and then follow the list until I was done. My dad bought it for me on my first visit to Eddie Bauer. It also happened to be the same day I said "no way" to the Coast Guard Academy during a summer orientation seminar-but I digress. My dad has always sort of instinctively known about my "thing" for motivational quotes and concurrent addiction to office supplies. The electrical supply house where he frequently got materials for his job sites distributed little, yellow monthly calendars. No bigger than an index card, I always looked forward to the nights he would bring them home just for me. I never used them for planning, but I would excitedly look at each page-- with it a new quote. One for each day. "The average pencil is 6". The average eraser 1/2". Who said optimism is dead?" Read one of the sayings that remains etched into my brain. The better ones got cut out and diligently put into photo albums alongside clippings from newspapers of my athletic accomplishments. Inspiring words from people I would never meet, but whose words would cause me to pause and think.



I look online at quotes from time-to-time and am amazed at how many of the "inspirational quote" sites cite the Bible. (Gotta love a good homophone!) Reminders of God's faithfulness, promises of His neverending love and reminders of His omnipotent control permeate the web. Right alongside Zig Ziglar, Jack Welch, Teddy Roosevelt, JFK, and is God himself. I look at these quote sites and wonder how many people get their "dose" of God here. To know God this way is to think of him as the almightiest motivational speaker of all time. A talent whose "greatest hits" have made it to magnets for the fridge, paperweights for our desks, greeting cards for our families and pages in our desk planners.

And if God is reduced to being listed amongst presidents, actors and great businessmen, I wonder how much more inaccessible this makes Him seem. Surely none of us would read a quote in Readers' Digest and then feel empowered enough to walk up to Zig Ziglar and say "so tell me more. I read this quote and it moved me. I want to know the rest of the story!" I wonder if people read random quotes from the Word and seek out the rest of the story? Do they know the Author of these quotes and the heart behind them? You see that is precisely the difference between man and God. While famous leaders have all strived for privacy and power, God has never done so. It is not His nature. He stands ready to answer your questions...no matter how hard. He wants you to search out the rest of the story-- to put it in context and understand His desire for you to know Him...personally.

Much like my dad cared enough to pay attention to the little things, God wants to be there for us. Those little quotable calendars were no more than a marketing gimmic for Twin State Electric, but to me they were a symbol of how much my dad cared for me. He always remembered. But that didn't happen with a sound bite from his teenage daughter saying "Dad, I like those little books and I love quotable quotes. Can you arrange that for me?" What teenager strings that many words together when talking to their parents?! Dad knew because he watched. He paid attention and he learned over time. God is no different-- spending time with Him will show you just how much about you he already knows...just as it did with me and my Dad.

I believe that there are too many people now in this sound-bite age that are getting their theology off terrible TV shows, sound bites, Internet sites and blogs. They aren't making the time (because no one has any free time) to designate to finding out truth for themselves. If you have never read the Bible I would challenge you to do so. Don't let anyone else tell you what it says-- find out for yourself. Only then will you know how invaluable a well placed quote from God's word can be. "How sweet are thy words unto my taste! yea, sweeter than honey to my mouth!" Psalms 119:103

Whereas I begin again...

So I started this once before and left it before it took flight. My original idea was to blog on something specific, but now I think I am just going to let it be as it is...and go from there. I am not a literary scholar, nor even someone who loves to write. I am just someone who likes to ramble...as you already know.

We went to Lake Placid, NY this past weekend to pick up some nifty chairs I purchased for my porch. I bought 4 chairs in April, but could only fit 2 in the car as my parents and Sadie were with me. So-- back we went-- this time in July. We crossed on the ferry at Charlotte--my first time doing that. It was beautiful. We ate pb&j sandwiches on a metal bench on the deck above the cars. Sat in the glorious sunshine watching all 3 kids munch happily while slipping across Lake Champlain-- doesn't get much better than that. This weekend was the Lake Placid Ironman-- so everyone in town was much fitter than me. lol. Reminded me of the shape I used to be in and how I desperately want to be there again.

We grabbed a loading zone spot, rescued the chairs and headed for Pirate's Cove minigolf-- what a blast. The manager was dressed as a pirate (*gasp*) and was awesome to the kids. Offered up a 'pirate's earring' to Lydia, who snuggled in closer and said "no thank you." lol. It was great to watch Eli get a hole in one-- unassisted. Fun too to watch Lydia game the system by taking her first shot off the tee and her second from 2" from the hole-- everytime. Picking up her bright pink ball, she would set it by the cup, give me a big grin and a thumbs up and nail a hole-in-2 every time.

I hit the gym this morning- in an effort to resemble (somewhat) more the athletes I saw in Lake Placid than I currently do. After overdoing it last week in my training session with Ramsey (the great), I knew I wasn't up for running at all. My ankle just isn't having it. Before I even set foot in the gym, I readjusted my attitude. I forced myself to be thankful-- for the ability to get to the gym. For the power cord to charge my mp3 player and resurrect my favorite music. For the money to pay for the gym membership itself. For the strength to get on the (despised) elliptical trainer and move for 30 min. I prayed my way through my workout- for( http://www.mycharmingkids.net/) Stellan and Jennifer (visit and pray will you?) and for all my church family who are struggling. Amazing what that will do for you. Before long, Mary, my gymmate with MS, shuffled into the gym pushing her walker. I smiled at her and she grinned back- "Happy Monday!" I said. She replied "It's always a little tougher to get in here on Monday, but I did it!" Yes Kris, perspective is a valuable thing.

I realize people hate, no despise, running. I love it. I can pray, process my thoughts, get into a great rhythm and feel my body do what I tell it to do. As a mom and full-time employee, it has been one of the only consistent activities where my thoughts and my time are truly mine alone. Nothing else really comes close for me...surely not the elliptical. At least not until today. The 2.25 miles I did on the elliptical today were a small breakthrough for me. For the first time, I didn't hate the thing...and for me that is a major milestone. I didn't kiss it when I was done, but I did leave fulfilled. Must have been something to do with the attitude readjustment---and the God-given perspective. Amazing what counting your blessings will do for you...the ones that show you a hole-in-two and the ones that leave you sore but happy. Both took my breath away.