One More Truth

Reflections on faith, truth, and being human

Sunrise and sleepy souls

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It’s 7:23 and the chill of asphalt is traveling quickly through my flimsy flip flops. I lean my bike against my body, the cold metal causing my legs to protest, and now my torso is chiming in about the coat I left at home, but I’m not about to go get it. I look out over the desert. The mountains are hiding the sun, but its fire can’t be hidden, and electric clouds light the horizon. It won’t be long.

Within seconds, the sun pops from valley folds, and slightly blinded, I breathe in sunshine for as long as I can before my veins turn to ice and I can’t pedal home. I never once question if witnessing this every day happening is worth standing in the cold.

It’s worth it.

For years I enjoyed watching day break, but sometime last winter, I stopped making the time. It was probably too cold, too inconvenient, too common. Another rotation of the earth, another sunrise. No big deal. The sunrise alarm would jingle my phone and I’d silence it, get back to tasks consuming my attention, and that was the daily routine – jingle, swipe, back to life. Routine had absorbed my soul.

This went on for quite a while, until one day – unable to recall when I’d last seen the sunrise – I deleted the alarm altogether. And part of me was really sad about it. Not sad about the absent alarm (less noise is always welcome) but sad that God was throwing color on waking skies and I’d lost delight in it all. I didn’t want to forget, but I apparently didn’t care to remember either.

The funny thing about the soul is, it remembers. Its cravings can’t be silenced with distractions or the petty sustenance that quiets mind and body. There came a morning when gold leaked through my kitchen windows and not a task or duty could hold me indoors. I ran the few minutes to my familiar spot, and as light filled the sky, delight filled my bones, and I stood in awe once again. Next morning, same thing; then the next, and the next, until I’d established a better routine of go, see, delight. I’d snap a picture for my sisters, sometimes send it with a verse or encouraging word – a little good news to break the monotony and monotone that soon fill a day – and it’d be back to life, just like before. But unlike before, now I had fire in my bones.

God is called the ‘Father of Light‘ only once in the Bible, but I think it’s my favorite name. It fits Him, and it explains why I need Him so much: His light wakes every facet of my being. The world’s darkness lulls my soul to sleep with bleak news and dull talk from dim minds. It’s a cynical forecast of gloomy attitudes telling me it’s just another day of drudgery. But God invites me to come and see His graces. If I silence His reminder, I’ll forget to delight in who He is. And when I forget Who God is, I forget who I am – a soul with a purpose, not a human with a routine.

Which is why I keep going out, watching melon clouds and violet stripes as the sun carves its path across the mountains. Nature’s beauty is a rhythm of thanks to its Creator – a song of gratitude – reminding me it’s another day to recognize God’s wonder and reflect His splendor with gladness.

 

Wisdom: the subtle fall trend

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My children wanted haircuts over the weekend, so being the mom I am, I took them to the salon that had just mailed out coupons. I brought nothing with me – no books, no half-fleshed writing, no unopened mail – so I could enjoy a little one-on-one time with each child while the other one was being shorn, and wouldn’t you know, they both got seated in a styling chair at the same time. So I glanced through the fall trends of a magazine instead. A few paragraphs into the cover article, and I was immediately reminded why I let my past subscriptions lapse: I’m embarrassed by my own gender.

Of course a magazine isn’t to blame for the embarrassment – it only reflects the times. And oh, these times. So many women celebrating the discovery that they have a voice, but they haven’t figured out what they’re trying to say. Millennials acknowledging that yes, they have a body, and they’re proud of it, and – oh, look! – they’re posting pictures because it’s empowering, but empowering them to do what? Wear a bikini? Cool. Anything useful, though? Do they have the power to end toxic behaviors or break disordered habits? Moms my age deadlifting like a boss, celebrating muscle because it shows their strength, but they’re not strong enough to show up in the gym or anywhere else without false eyelashes, full makeup, and cosmetic surgery. Middle-aged women are pleased with expressing themselves as a contribution to society, but their contribution rarely has much benefit other than garnering applause, and I wonder, if they received no attention for their contribution, how quickly would they express their displeasure?

There are many conversations being had, with people ‘joining the conversation’ and whatever, and everyone seems to have a strong opinion with dislikes that trigger them and likes that suit them, and these preferences seem to make saying the same 8 buzzwords about the same 3 topics very exciting, but no matter the word choice, the message is clearly, “Me. More.” The communicators are attractive and privileged, revered as authorities on authenticity (behind the guise of contouring and spanx, or manscaped beards and expensive suits) and they speak of ideals without understanding the ideas behind them, without any clue which weak ideals we’d need to strengthen right now in order to build a perfectly impartial world. Everyone’s talking, but nothing being said has any utility. It’s a just tangle of prophets with unprofitable declarations, valued quotes without value, and many (so many) words without wisdom.

But no need to despair. Wisdom is still alive and well, because here’s the truth about wisdom: it has a subtlety to it. It clearly communicates without speaking a word. Wisdom understands that being fair, staying disciplined, and doing what’s right is more useful than talking about it.

When the wisest man in the world wrote Proverbs, it wasn’t to highlight his opinions or exercise his privilege. He shared his wealth of wisdom so that anyone could enjoy dignity and honor, and he did it radically…by personifying wisdom as a woman. It seems equity is alive and well, too.

And I can’t help but smile because I’ve known and I know women who personify wisdom. They are single moms proudly putting food on the table, regardless the size of their paycheck. They’re former victims who’ve learned to cope, heal, and grow, and they’re ending the cycle of abuse by looking out for vulnerable girls in their neighborhoods. They’re women whose bodies have been weakened by cancer or disability and they aren’t strong enough to lift their own legs most days, but they’ve lifted their chins with resolve and they are leading and loving with tenacity. They are grandmas raising grandkids and hardworking women who are respected because they deserve it, not because they demand it. They are women encouraging their friends, wives supporting husbands who want to go back to school, and marathon runners who don’t run from difficult discussions with their children. These women are comfortable in their own skin, comfortable with making tough choices, and comfortable with being sincere. They understand that patience builds peace, self-respect nurtures love, and outrage is most often a mask for unchecked self-centeredness. They’re not grabbing for privilege, they’re gripping dignity and they’re keeping composure instead of folding like a lawn chair every time they don’t get their way. It’s an honor to know these women, and I’m equally thankful for the good men who adore and applaud them – because I know full well there are many.

Men and women of wisdom, much love to you. You aren’t busy defining yourselves – you’re letting the distinct features of wisdom classify you instead. You know how to stand together and you know how to confidently stand alone. If I could put you on a magazine cover, I would, but just know that I see you, my children see you, and we are learning wisdom from you, so carry on in your subtle teaching.

Please and thank you.

 

 

Aloha for all seasons

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Temperatures are sweltering here in Arizona, but the school year is already underway, making it official: summer is over. But don’t fret, I’ll give you a summer recap in throwback style.

“Here’s what I did this summer…”

Lounging on a Hawaiian beach has been one of my #goals since before there were #goals and this was finally the summer for making my dream a reality. My husband and I hadn’t been together without the kids since our honeymoon, so doing whatever I pleased, going to bed as early as I pleased, and never once cooking a meal was a shock to my system and a dream week come true. The waves were relaxing, the Hawaiian people were simple and kind, and the aloha culture was calm and unrushed. When we boarded the plane to come home, I felt completely refreshed. My beach vacation had ended, but I wasn’t bummed, because I was bringing the spirit of aloha home with me – like a souvenir for my insides. I couldn’t wait to share it with my children. We would enjoy each other and a laid back summer break.

And that’s exactly what we did. We played board games and did puzzles, we swam and watched afternoon movies, and for a solid month or so, our house was the hotspot for friends and neighbor kids. Most mornings I even slept in past 5. It was an extraordinary summer of ordinary moments and laid back living.

One afternoon, the kids and I were going about our summer business, headed to the Dollar Store for summer delights like candy and cheap pool toys, when we were suddenly bombarded by  ‘2 cool 4 school’ signs and giant bins of glue sticks and index cards, all displayed next to the 4th of July decor. I was tempted to grab some eraser caps and lined paper, you know, to make me feel like I had a jumpstart on the back to school thing, but I had plenty of summer left to enjoy and I refused to be rushed. I remained calm and squeezed in a few more laid back weeks before beginning the back to school preparations.

Turns out, there was quite a bit of back to school preparing to be done. My children were passing the summer days in leisure, but their bodies had been growing at a less than leisurely pace. We made our lists and even though they were longer than usual, I had every intent to keep things easy and breezy. The office supply store was first, then a couple department stores, and then Dairy Queen – to rejuvenate. We hadn’t found everything we needed, but we figured we’d finish up the next day. Nope. Weeks of precious summer were depleted skimming through clothing racks and rows of expensive shoes (even cheap shoes are expensive), filling the cart and emptying my wallet, checking pencils off the list only to realize we still needed binders, and then finding the binder shelf empty. What had happened to my laid back summer?  I felt like a half-crazed hunter-gatherer collecting items for my offspring and it was during these last few days of summer vacation that I uttered something I rarely utter: “I’m ready for the kids to go back to school.” The Aloha spirit that set the summer ablaze was hardly a flicker. Time for a new season.

New seasons bring fresh energy, but the first day of school brings unique energy. My kids were awake and ready early, chattering all through breakfast, and smiling big and proud for pictures before they left. It’s the fresh start, I think. It’s the unmarked notebooks and the unscuffed shoes and the clean slate with a brand new teacher. I had a fresh start, too. I had a quiet house (that stayed clean all day!) and new energy for endeavors that the summer noise couldn’t accommodate. But new seasons also bring new challenges. Quiet days quickly become busy afternoons of carpools, and math problems, and dirty school uniforms. Kids come home tired from structured days and no longer find it thrilling to wake up before the alarm. Within a week, the fresh energy of the new season was already gone.

Late the other night, my daughter sat on her bed – the bed she should have been snuggled in – surrounded by books and papers. Her eyes were too tired to read and too bewildered to close. She was overwhelmed. I was stretched across her bedroom floor doing my best to reel her back in and assure her she wasn’t destined to live in a cardboard box if she didn’t make straight A’s as a high school freshman. She was struggling to fit cheer, homework, downtime, and adequate sleep into the rushed school week and I was attempting to offer good solutions, but nothing sounds good to a tired teenager, or a tired mom. I was also overwhelmed and doing my best to reel myself back in from believing that the public school system was ruining my life. How would I shuttle children to activities, help with homework, get an adequate amount of sleep, and still find time to enjoy life? I headed to bed frustrated and half convinced I was packing up the family, moving to Hawaii, and reclaiming my aloha.

Exhausted but unable to sleep, I crept back to my daughter’s room to find her lying under the covers, her room dark except for the glow of the full moon on her face. She was turned toward her window, peacefully gazing at the sky. Her unfinished assignments would keep until morning. She asked why sometimes she could see the moon and other times she couldn’t, and I reminded her that the earth and the moon are always moving, making the moon visible from her window during different seasons. We admired the view for a little while. It was beautifully ordinary and soothing, just as our summer had been. We prayed together for refreshed minds and renewed spirits. We were in a busier season now, but perhaps we could still enjoy some laid back moments – we’d just have to be more deliberate about finding them. As I left her room, I whispered to my daughter – as much as to myself – “God is good to give us different seasons.” She agreed.

When I’m overwhelmed, I may benefit from a vacation or a little more sleep, but if I want to be truly refreshed, I need a renewed spirit. A renewed spirit is a shift of focus from the inside, like a change of pace for the soul. A renewed spirit is kind of like an aloha summer – it’s embracing the moment, and knowing when to do more and when to do less. I can’t avoid the challenging seasons, but I can trust the Giver of changing seasons is also the Provider of energy for each season. He’s taken great care in creating beautiful moments for every season.

So embrace your season and enjoy life, one moment at a time.

 

Messy, beautiful, and thankful

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It’s been a messy few weeks. Among our household of 6, we’ve had ingrown toenail surgery (twice), a fever, a strep test, tension headaches, a twisted ankle, chest pains, a touch of pneumonia, and a couple of non-emergency/preventative trips to the ER. There are a dozen more appointments scheduled before the end of the year. Never mind the final exams, the missing glasses, the parking ticket, vehicle repairs, and the broken vacuum that had to be replaced after many years of faithful service (RIP, trusty old pal). I couldn’t have possibly chosen a better month than December for extra expenses. Like I said, messy.

It’s kind of been an entire year like that. Several times I’ve thought to myself that there are pieces of the year I desperately hope I never remember – like my multiple speeding tickets, or the times I lost my temper, or the tragic sobs of my children as I explained to them as best I could that their brand new dog had unfortunately drowned. And I pray I remember little about the sporadic days of 2015 when I struggled against the familiar foe of darkness; those slight brushes of depression that never hold me tightly, but certainly fog my outlook with unwanted fear. Truth be told, I’m looking forward to 2016…

It’s been a beautiful few weeks. Among our busy household of 6, we’ve discovered many moments when all of us are together in the same room, laughing, talking, and sharing. We’ve enjoyed overall good health, delicious and plentiful food, and needs have always been met. God blessed us with reasonably priced plane tickets, giving us the intoxicating opportunity to hop on a red eye, fly across the country, and surprise our family for Thanksgiving. And after a few chats with our leasing agent and renters, we finally have hope that the house we own in Virginia will be purchased by our renters this spring.

It’s been an entire year like that. After scanning Craig’s List for only a few months, we finally found the perfect dog. My oldest graduated from high school, snagged a great job, and passed her first semester of college with a solid B average. My husband landed an interview with Google, had wisdom enough to turn down the second interview, and began a journey toward learning how not to work himself to death. My son made his first home run as we watched and held our breath, my junior higher guest cheered – all smiles – at the high school football game, and my youngest found creative happiness in lumps of clay at a local pottery class. Above all else, my children love Jesus and aren’t afraid to show it in their own individual style. And even in my fog, I enjoyed sunrises and sunsets, friends, family, and pivotal moments with Jesus; moments that filled me with breath, and peace, and clarity. Like I said, beautiful. And I’m looking forward to a beautiful new year.

Life is beautiful, but it ain’t always pretty. You can face the unpretty days with the same grit and grace as the beautiful days. The key is thankfulness.

Scientific research confirms that journaling gratitudes on a daily basis enhances life satisfaction within weeks, not to mention the other emotional and interpersonal benefits of a grateful focus. Various authors of the Bible said the same thing thousands of years ago, minus the statistics and fancy words like ‘research’ or ‘psychological’. They simply closed their letters with concise commands like, “Give thanks” and “Be thankful”, to remind us to live a continual lifestyle of thankfulness.

But let’s be clear. A lifestyle of thankfulness doesn’t mean journaling things you’re not truly thankful for in the spirit of trying to be positive. It doesn’t suggest masking problems so that no one else sees you unsettled. It doesn’t require clever tricks for pretending that there are never days that just plain stink. A thankful heart isn’t ignorant or dismissive.

A thankful heart is honest and pure. Thankfulness is a step toward God’s wisdom, even on the days that don’t make sense. Especially on those days. When darkness is thick and heavy, thankfulness means looking for where His light is breaking through. Thankfulness is finding yourself in a giant mess of loss, or confusion, or uncertainty and still having faith enough to shout, “Even in this mess, Jesus, I still have You!”

Emmanuel. ‘God with us’.

In times of upset, the Prince of Peace is with us.

On overwhelming days, the Wonderful Counselor is with us.

When we couldn’t be more powerless, the Mighty God is with us.

The Creator of everything, the Savior of the world is with us, and He is with us because He loves us. That’s beautiful. That’s a reason to be thankful.

Merry Christmas, everyone!