My Trip to San Diego

Well, after many, many years, I finally made it back to California.  This is entirely because of my husband, Ron.  He knows how to travel.  Well, I did have a part in it--got us $600 in airline ticket vouchers.  So, with our two boys in tow, we made the trek to a land where I had always dreamed I'd live one day.

The photo is of course not San Diego, but Anza Borrego Desert.  It was so weird and cool.  Never would have gone there either if not for Ron.  Didn't think it would be worth driving two hours through the mountains... Wrong! The mountains themselves were equally fantastic.  Gigantic whitish boulders scattered over grassy hillsides, towering earthen peaks looking like enormous brown folded blankets...indescribable, really.

San Diego was also an alien world.  Hundreds of plants I had never seen before--the breeze smelling sweet with them.  Where would one even begin learning to identify all this completely unfamiliar stuff?  And of course the beach was perfection.  The continuous pulsing roar, sandy shores, waves of blues, greens, purples, luscious foamy whites....  Surfers were everywhere, even though it was in the 50's.  And I could see why--to be in those waves--almost like part of them.  It was tremendous just watching them.

We stayed in a well-furnished southwestern style townhome, which had two lovely porches overlooking the neighborhood. It was clean, comfortable, and in an interesting and convenient location.  We found plenty to do and most of it was free, or at least affordable.  (Ron made many trips to the French bakery around the corner!)   He had also rented a convertible for our stay and that was fun.  It had satellite radio so we sometimes found great songs to listen to, old breezy hippie-ish tunes from the early 70's.  Part of me started to hearken back to the old desires of my heart--to be unencumbered by all this uptightness which now pretty much fits like an old glove, or a sock, or a uniform, or a vice.

An internal struggle began to arise as I tried to fit the feelings I was having with my life as a follower of Christ--what I was soaking up from the California-ness around me, and the yearning for happiness and a carefree spirit that was welling up from deep down inside.  I knew that part of it was right and part of it was wrong.

The setting was thought provoking to say the least.  To be away from my midwestern-bent ways and to see things from another point of view was bracing.  It was extremely helpful to actually experience it--to breathe that other air. I am still taking all this in, but I think the temptation is classic: to glorify myself or to glorify Him.

 

Fragmentation

Kids are destructive.  It seems my boys cannot not be destroying property at almost every minute of the day.  They bang their toy swords on the edges of the kitchen counters (you know, the part that chips), or on the cherry dining table. They scrape their transformers across the upholstered furniture, or dig their smelly feet into the springs and bore their pointy elbows and chins into the arm padding, or flop down like it's a trampoline. They dent the floor with heavy wooden blocks or sharp metal race cars at every opportunity.  They hang on doors and bash into walls, windows, and pull on curtains...  I probably say, "STOP THAT!!!"  100 times a day, at least.

A long time ago I figured out I would probably never be able to have anything nice. I was the oldest kid of four, and my little siblings had to wreck everything, unless the dog already did.  And then, I actually ruin a lot of my own stuff as well.  I cannot not spill on my shirts.  This is one reason for floral patterns.  I drop things a lot, which is better than throwing them, which I sometimes used to do.  And sometimes things just happen...

Like, I had this beautiful antique vase from my Great Grandmother Raymond.  It was one of the few things I've held on to over the years that had remained intact.  Until one day the shelf just fell off the wall, for no apparent reason.  If you were ever in my house, if you looked carefully at most of my nick-knacks, you would see that they have been painstakingly put back together with Elmer's Glue.  When I saw my precious oriental vase, lying in a zillion shattered orange and white pieces all over the floor, I cried.  But then, I girded myself up, and began piecing it together.  It was my biggest challenge--the shards were tiny--but I did it.  I still have the vase.

Recently I saw a picture of a broken vase that was "glued" together using gold.  This is an actual technique used by the Japanese. The golden cracks then become part of the design, and it is considered even more beautiful than the original piece. I get that concept.

Several years ago our concrete front porch and sidewalk were beginning to shift.  Instead of replacing them we decided to try "mud-jacking."  This is where they drill a hole in the concrete and push clay underneath to raise up the slab.  It worked sort of, but it did crack the porch slab slightly, and left these ugly battleship gray plugs all over the place.  Not a very attractive solution.  Being somewhat artistic and a lot cheap, I pondered the situation and came up with an idea.  I decided to paint the concrete.  Not just a solid gray, but in a colorful tile-like pattern.  I did it, and it worked.  I have to touch it up it every couple of years, but overall, I have to say that I actually like it better than just a plain, "perfect" concrete sidewalk/porch. (Not everybody agrees, but some do.)

Many times I feel like I have been shattered.  Maybe everyone does. Some days I am so fragmented as a person that I can barely function.  Although I have done the best I could to "glue" myself back together, I am not quite right. I need a better solution. This is a good realization, because without it, I might have missed out on the greatest news there has ever been.

He has made everything beautiful in its time. He has also set eternity in the hearts of men...--Eccl. 3:11

       

Singularity

In the last post, it seems  I overlooked the fact that precious stones and metals are also valued because of their rarity.

You know how kids always fight over the thing there is only one of?  If you have two of the same things, nobody cares about that, so don't even bother buying them each the same toy.  It doesn't work.  One thing that used to drive my parents crazy was when we'd cry, "It's not fair!"  That also infuriates my husband. "Life is not fair!" he says. He's probably right. He's smarter than me.

Although, recently a good friend of mine commented that she thought I was smart.  And then she said it again several days later.  (Perhaps she confused "muddled thinking" with "deep thinking.") Well in any case it was plenty for me to get a little puffed up.  But then I started reading a couple of books: The Great Divorce by C. S. Lewis, and Jesus Among Other Gods by Ravi Zacharias.  The illusion was punctured.

These two books, along with another one I'm reading with my kids: God's Names by Sally Michael, have been helpful in getting the magnifying glass off me and my sin and onto God, where it belongs.  There is SO much more to God than I can begin to hope to imagine.  I am extremely thankful for teachers who help to stretch my brain so I don't just stay stuck with the little things I see.

In God's Names, the author states, "(God) always does what is best for His people. (bolded Italics mine)  I don't know why this hit me like a ton of bricks.  It should have been obvious.  A good thing about children's books is that sometimes I understand them.  Somewhere in the back of my mind, I guess I must have thought that God sometimes does what is maybe best for some people.  Hm.  No wonder I have trouble trusting Him.

Good teaching is rare, because it has to be true, and it has to be understandable, and it has to be useful. It has to line up with Scripture. It is of great value, and yet it may not cost (me) a dime.  I may have to search for it, though.  I may have to spend some time listening, thinking.  I may have to feel a little pain in my ego.  Sometimes, though, it's just like a waterfall of blessing, pressed down, flowing over. Free.

My husband, Ron, was telling me that, as a kid, he used to find lots of fool's gold near the canal by where he lived--big rocks of it.  That would have been fun to find, I think.  To this day I don't think I'd know the difference.  I don't know a real gem from a fake, nor would I know real gold from fool's gold.  I just don't care that much about jewelry. (But I do find other ways to spend my husband's money, lest I look too innocent.)   

The truth is that God is the rarest thing of all. But He's not a thing, He's a Person. There is only one God. And yet, He is available to everyone, everywhere, all the time.

Again, the kingdom of heaven is like a merchant looking for fine pearls. When he found one of great value, he went away and sold everything he had and bought it.--Matt. 13:45-46

Perish the Thought

In our Bible study last night we were reading in 1 Peter 1 that as Christians we are to "prepare our minds for action" or, as the King James puts it, to "gird up the loins" of our minds; and that we are to be "self-controlled," or "sober" in the KJV.  So we were discussing what that means and how we need to take control of our thoughts.  Paul also mentions this in 2 Cor. 5 when he tells us to "take captive every thought to make it obedient to Christ."

On another tack, I was just pondering the other night, why are gems and certain metals so valuable?  I have wondered that many times, why is gold considered precious? But then it finally dawned on me (I know I am slow) that these things are practically imperishable. They pretty much won't rust or mold or burn up. Their value is perhaps not only in their outer beauty, as I had suspected but not understood. Their worth is greatly magnified by their inner stability, their near incorruptibility, at least compared to most other things on this earth.

Back to 1 Peter 1, I was reading something amazing about our inheritance as Christians. Inheritance is an intensely personal and important concept to me.  It is because I realize that God is my inheritance.  In the Old Testament, the tribe of Levi was chosen to be the Priesthood, and as such they did not receive a portion of the promised land of their own--God Himself was to be their inheritance! I have always resonated with this because I know that this is true of me.  God is my inheritance, my cup, and my portion. There is no better inheritance than this.  

I receive this blessing not because I am a Levite, but because of Jesus, who has brought us "into an inheritance that can never perish, spoil or fade"--1Pet.1:4  

This inheritance is imperishable.  It is of  infinite value.  My inheritance was bought for me, but "it was not with perishable things such as silver or gold that you were redeemed from the empty way of life handed down to you from your forefathers, but with the precious blood of Christ."--1Pet.1:18-19.

I am going to paraphrase something my pastor once said, and I've done it before but it warrants repeating.  Do you know the true worth of your own soul?  Do you realize that it is worth more than the whole world? It is to Jesus Christ, and it should be to you. Perish the thought that says otherwise.

The Stones Would Cry Out

I can sympathize with George Bailey ("It's a Wonderful Life") when he says he wishes he'd never been born.  I realize how saturated with self-pity the statement is, and yet, it is me.  I thank the people who make movies & stories like that, "A Christmas Carol," "Groundhog Day," etc. for teaching me again and again to snap out of it.  But sooner or later I generally fall back in.

I love to mow the lawn.  I think it's because I'm a Daddy's girl. Back in the day, dads weren't around all that much, or at least my dad wasn't.  The sound of a ballgame on TV, or a lawnmower, the smell of fresh-cut grass...that just brings a vision of my dad in a short-sleeve button-down plaid shirt.  It meant Dad was there, he was home.  The world was just a way brighter better place when Dad was around.  It is true in my home now, too.  My husband is Dad here, and he is the sunshine.

A funny thing happens though, every time I cut the grass.  While the motor is on, I swear I can hear cicadas buzzing right along with it. But when I cut the power, they are quiet.  The mower is so loud I tell myself it is a trick my ears are playing on me; but I really don't think so.  You know how cicadas do, they buzz in a long pattern--then another tree starts up in an overlapping song.  They go back and forth like that and I wonder if they are doing that with the lawnmower.  Or maybe I am just hearing things.

Sometimes when I play piano with the windows open, the birds do join in and sing along.  I am not imagining it, it really happens.  They are more enthusiastic if they really like the song.  It is a very wonderful thing to me.  A friend of mine was telling how in her small town they have an annual worship service where all the churches get together.  The only place there is room for everyone, she said, is outdoors, at the cemetery.  She said that this year whenever they began to sing a hymn, all the birds started singing out really loud.  I had to smile.

"As he (Jesus) was drawing near--already on the way down the Mount of Olives--the whole multitude of his disciples began to rejoice and praise God with a loud voice for all the mighty works that they had seen, saying, 'Blessed is the King who comes in the name of the Lord! Peace in heaven and glory in the highest!'  And some of the Pharisees in the crowd said to him, 'Teacher, rebuke your disciples.' He answered,'I tell you, if these were silent, the very stones would cry out.'"--Luke 19:37-40    

Well, I do think that the birds, the cicadas, the skies, indeed all of creation is pouring out praise to God, constantly:
          
 "The heavens declare the glory of God; and the firmament sheweth his handywork. Day unto day uttereth speech, and night unto night sheweth knowledge.There is no speech nor language, where their voice is not heard."--Psalm 19:1-3

 I was thinking on that this morning in my prayer time.  Actually I was thinking of how incredible and amazing God is.  Like when I watch stuff on TV about subatomic particles and then I think of the expanse of the universe, and how fantastic and beautiful and ordered it all is.  And then to think of my little son, his little face and hands, and the relationship we have. Tenderness and humor and art...sometimes it just freaks me out how intensely brilliant people can be, or attractive, or talented...it can be like it's supernatural!  And then I realized, that it is.

God has made every thing beautiful.  I look at my wood floor.  Every time a board is cut from a tree, it has a different lovely pattern. Or cut open a carrot, or look at metal, crystals...all this crazy stuff.  We make it into a stove, or a car, or a city, or an instrument. We make music and express our hearts.  We are made in God's image...

I know that I am sinning when I wish I were never born.  I know God already knows that I think this way, and I was hoping that I could somehow get an attitude adjustment without shock therapy that would make it easier for me to finish up this life.  And here's what I thought, it might not be right, but...this morning as I was praying--that is discussing this whole issue with my Maker (!)  I thought, God spoke everything into existence. (See Genesis) That makes me an expression of God. Wow.  Did that make me feel incredibly special!!!  But not in my own right, the value is in Him.  He is the One who spoke me into existence.  He thought me up.  That idea made me so much more valuable in my mind.  

And here's the thing:  If I wish I'd never been born, I'm kind of telling Almighty God to just be quiet. 




           

September

Well, that was quick.  School is back in.  Still struggling though, mostly with death.  I know, I feel like Woody Allen.  And yet, I wonder, how can anybody not struggle with it?  It just gets close enough to think about, I guess, at a certain age.  Or a certain level of tiredness.  Or maybe it's that a lot of people and things that were important in my life aren't here anymore, and it diminishes my connection with this world.

It is weird to have a limited amount of time left here and yet to be squandering hours away.  Well, not really weird, more like scary.  My oldest son is on his way back to Afghanistan.  The last time he was there God gave me such a peace the entire time; it can only be explained in those terms.  This time I am sad, because he leaves behind a wife and two kids.  They have a great attitude about it.  I know he is only doing what he signed up to do.  I'm just proud that he signed up to do it at all.

My other son is finally getting his art career off the ground, I think. And I am proud of that too.  I knew he had the talent to do it, but it takes risk and persistence as well.  He was here for several weeks this summer.  Unfortunately it was the hottest most miserable summer I remember, literally, in all my life. It was good for him to spend time with his little brothers.  It was good for them too.  I got to reconnect, at least from my point of view, with my son who had become such a stranger.  I love him too much.

I love them all too much.  I am a spoiler mom. Not proud of that.

We have been looking into moving.  Spending money on the prospect too.  I hate wasting money.  Funny that I do it all the time.  I am really not clear on our future.  I had been feeling rather depressed.  But yesterday for some reason I got on YouTube and was listening to Andy Griffith singing "I'll Fly Away."  It made me smile, because he did recently do so.  And then I listened to Alison Krauss singing the same, which led me via sidebars to her version of "Beulah Land," a song I never before understood.

The hopelessness of this life has been leading me to nothing but dead-ends...Even though I have EVERYTHING a person could want on this earth...

"I'm kind of homesick for a country
To which I've never been before.
No sad goodbyes will there be spoken
for time won't matter anymore.

Beulah Land, I'm longing for you
and some day on thee I'll stand.
There my home shall be eternal.
Beulah Land -- Sweet Beulah Land"


And I realized where I need to be looking, on what horizon, and it awakened joy in my soul, like sunlight slipping through a cracking door.  










           

Ponderings

Soooo, a lot has happened since my last post, and yet, I'm still thinking about those same things. When I last wrote, I had just met a friend, via her cooking blog, and she had recently discovered her cancer was back, and only this morning, she died.

My son broke up with his girlfriend of four years.
We lost two large trees in our yard.
School is out.
I found a new babysitter (we had none).
My dad is in very bad shape, healthwise.
I finally met a neighbor I had been praying I would be able to meet.
I met my second grandson.

For a while I went through a very dark period, maybe the darkest of my life. It was about the fear I have of eternity. Though it threatened to tear me away from God, I am now closer to Him because of it.

My grown sons will both be here soon, the younger one in two days. He's the one who broke up, Tim. Chris is coming with his family in July.

I don't have any funny jokes or profound sayings tying all this together. Life just goes on, rushing like a river-- sometimes fast, sometimes slow, sometimes high, sometimes low. That must be a plagiarism, sorry.

The photo is my husband, Ron, and me on our wedding day.  We are very happily married, still.  Back then I had worried about whether you would get bored with someone over time. People are much more complex than that.  I will never be able to spend enough time with Ron in this life.

Same with my kids. And so many other friends and family, some who are already gone.  I can't really say I'm not still afraid of eternity, but, "I know whom I have believed, and am persuaded that he is able to keep that which I have committed unto him against that day."--2Tim.1:12