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Rainy Rides and Waterfalls In The Desert

Posted in Daily Life, Miraclles, Motorcycling, Prayer, The Christian Life, Uncategorized, tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , on September 29, 2014| 4 Comments »

images7SXM6CQUI recently returned from a 12 day motorcycle trip that encompassed over 4,500 miles and a full range of sights and weather. Since it was in the upper 90’s when we left Yakima, I almost considered leaving my electric jacket home. But – praise the Lord, I changed my mind.

We hit rain as soon as we hit Montana. Our plan was to spend three or four days in that state but, after two solid days of drizzly, chilly rain we changed our plans and headed south. I’ve never seen the Utah National Parks and have always wanted to. My brother-in-law was riding with us and he is a great travel companion as well as a wonderful tour guide. He’s spent a lot of time in Zion, Bryce, Arches and the rest of that area so I knew it would be a great experience.

I also counted on better weather. After all it was the desert. Warm and dry had to happen, right? Wrong. We spent three days touring the parks and those three days racked up record rainfall for that part of the country. Just my luck.
Instead of looking like a cute biker chick, I looked like the Pillsbury doughboy in my multi-layered attire (undershirt, long sleeved shirt, sweatshirt, vest, electric jacket, leather jacket and rain gear).

Not that we didn’t see some beautiful sights. There were sun breaks now and then but very little clear sky and plenty of storm clouds moving in and moving out. On our third day we were in Moab, Utah and we woke to an absolute downpour. Water was running in rivers down the street and the sky was very dark with no sign of clearing any time soon.

I was not happy. I had been praying for better weather and I’d even elicited the prayers of friends back home. But God hadn’t answered – at least not in the way I wanted Him to. I was more than a little disappointed in His response In fact, I caught myself being a little ‘gritchy’ with Him, reminding Him I only get one real vacation in a year and I needed it to fill my expectations which were relaxing and staying warm and dry. Was that too much to ask?

We had to rebook the hotel for one more night because it was too dangerous to travel on a bike. By mid-afternoon we were tired of sitting around and my brother-in-law consulted his trusty weather app, noting that a clearing was forecast for a few hours before another storm moved in. We decided to leather up, throw in the rain gear and take our chances. The weather did improve and we actually had sunshine by the time we reached Arches National Park. We pulled into a viewpoint, pulled off our coats because the temperature was rising rapidly, and began to explore.

That rainbow of reds and golds is truly beautiful in the sunlight and we were met with breathtaking sights at every turn. There’s something thrilling about climbing around on those huge sandstone rocks and peering into crevices and arches. I was itching to follow a trail of rock cairns and talked my brother-in-law into accompanying me. He kept reminding me that the farther down into the hole we climbed the more difficult the trip back would be. But I couldn’t stop. Those markers just drew me.

Thank goodness they did because after about 15 minutes of hiking we rounded a corner and were met with a most astounding sight – a waterfall. Now how rare is that – finding a waterfall in the desert? And it wasn’t just a waterfall. Evidently it was an area that collects any kind of moisture that comes along because it was a real life oasis with a tree and some grass and some blooming plants. Surrounded by dry sandstone for as far as you could see, it stood out in brilliant shades of green and just took your breath away.

I had to sit down on a rock and admire the miracle. The thought came to me that a waterfall in the desert doesn’t happen without rainfall in the desert. In fact, I never would have experienced such an amazing sight had I not suffered through three days of wet riding!

And isn’t that just like God to answer your prayer in a completely unexpected, refreshing, soul stirring way with a not so subtle reminder that He always comes through, the storm always passes, the sun always comes out and the reward of staying the course is worth the painful journey.

My desert encounter made me thankful for God’s wisdom and for the way He plans surprises for me around every turn. It touched me so much that I almost didn’t complain a bit when the last two mornings on our trip the temperature registered only 20 degrees as we hit the road. (Even an electric jacket has a hard time counter balancing that!)

I will make rivers flow on barren heights, and springs within the valleys. I will turn the desert into pools of water, and the parched ground into springs. Isaiah 41:18:

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Who Do You Keep and Who Do You Throw Away?

Posted in Children, Conflict, Creation, Daily Life, Death, Friendship, Motherhood, The Christian Life, Uncategorized, tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on January 23, 2013| 4 Comments »

MB900422771[1]With this being the 40th anniversary of Roe versus wade, the news has been filled with commentary from both sides. You can read the pro life side and you can read the pro choice side and both have parts and pieces of logic.

I firmly believe the reason we can’t come to an agreement on the issue is because we have never had the right to even have a choice in the matter. Only God has the knowledge and foresight and vision to know whether a life is valid. And since He is the one who creates that life in the first place, He is wise enough not to create something of no value.

All of the arguments aside, I got a practical lesson on the whole issue this week. It was a beautiful illustration of life value and I wish I could pass it on to every pro-choicer out there.

The real story began over 60 years ago when a baby boy was born to the parents of one of my best friends. He was severely handicapped from the start, his body twisted and useless. And though normal communication was not possible, it soon became apparent that his mind was sharp and comprehension of the world around him keen. His fierce determination to fight for life earned him the nickname of Tuffy.

For 60 years his family has faithfully loved and cared for him. They were his advocates when the long term care facility was giving less than adequate care. They went out of their way to make sure he spent holidays with the family. They visited regularly – almost every day – for 60 years to make sure he knew he was loved. They managed to understand his method of communication and did everything they could to address his needs.

I have seen them kiss him and hug him, shave him and joke with him. I have watched them turn his chair for the best view out the window, readjust his pillows to assure comfort, get in the faces of medical staff to get them to listen, and nurse him through fevers and infections.

My precious friend has her own serious health problems, has a very challenging marriage, lost a daughter in her twenties to cancer and fights every day to keep her head above water. Never once have I heard anger, bitterness, regret or impatience over the demands of keeping Tuffy safe and secure. While from the outside this did not look like a regular, gather around the dinner table every night kind of family, it was no less a family because of Tuffy. In fact, the extra effort needed to hold them together probably made it more of a well bonded family than most.

Several times, especially in the last few years, Tuffy became critically ill. Never did my friend wish for it to be over. Her prayers were always for comfort and healing. She never asked that her life be easier, only Tuffy’s. 

Tuffy passed away this past week and my friend along with her family have deeply grieved.

To my friend he was never a burden, he was a brother. His life served a purpose regardless of his ability to walk and talk in a “normal” manner. I believe Tuffy’s life made her kinder, more thoughtful, more compassionate, more tolerant and more thankful than life without him would have.

Was their life easy with a child like Tuffy? Not in the furthest sense of the word. Was their life better because of Tuffy? You bet it was. He brought a light and a love, a focus and family closeness, and  lessons beyond measure.

Tuffy was different but no less dear to his family than any other son or sibling. I rejoice that he is free of his twisted body and running around heaven shouting and singing today. And I thank God for my friend and the life lesson she passed on by embracing what others might have called a life of little value.

If we could all let God handle life and death and just tend to the things He gives us control over, events like Roe versus Wade would not exist. Instead, love and compassion would take their place.

For you created my inmost being;
    you knit me together in my mother’s womb.

 I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made;
    your works are wonderful, I know that full well.
 My frame was not hidden from you when I was made in the secret place,
    when I was woven together in the depths of the earth.
 Your eyes saw my unformed body;
    all the days ordained for me were written in your book before one of them came to be. Psalm 139:13-16 

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Will You Go Out in a Blaze of Glory?

Posted in Daily Life, Death, Motorcycling, The Christian Life, Uncategorized, tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on October 12, 2012| 2 Comments »

Our autumn rides hold a special place in my heart.  While the air is crisp, requiring an extra layer of clothing, the view from the back seat is glorious.  Here in Yakima and the surrounding countryside the trees are fighting each other for attention, flashing their shades of gold and green, russet and rose.  Along the river the sumac is dressed in red while the birch trees have chosen bright yellow gowns.  I can smell the fall and it’s moist and earthy.

The autumn season is short and I always feel like we have to hurry and enjoy it before it’s gone.  There is such a contrast in the blinding sunlight and the cool air, almost like a warning.  If you’re inside looking out, it appears to be warm.  But step out the door without a jacket and you’ll shiver immediately.

Huddled on the back of our Harley with my leather clad arms wrapped around my guy my thoughts are bittersweet. I wouldn’t trade the beauty of autumn for anything but I’m sad for the signs that our riding season is almost over.  There’s always that distant thought of what will next year bring? 

Having recently experienced the sudden and unexpected loss of a good friend, it’s hard not to reflect on the uncertainty of life and the certainty of death.  The trees know truth – our life is for a season.  Autumn comes and the best thing they can do is go out in a blaze of glory. The most beautiful, eye catching time of their existence is the beginning of their death – not forever but for a time.

What a lesson for us.  We won’t be green and full of energy forever.  We must take all we can from the joy of our branches dancing in the breeze, birds singing us a morning song, friends relaxing in our cool shade.  At the same time, we must make plans to go out in a blaze of glory.

Is your house in order?  Have you served in such a way that people remark on your golden generosity?  Are you touching lives and sharing some of your rich red life lessons, your russet blessings, and your bright yellow joy of a life well lived? 

We don’t know for sure what tomorrow will bring but we can certainly take measure of what impact we had yesterday.  I want someone to reflect on their ride though the canyon of life and I want a memory to flash back of me beside the river reaching out with beauty and thoughtfulness, making their day a little richer.  I want them to hear the roar of a Harley and smile because it brings to mind a picture of Christ shining like the autumn sun from my face.  

And when my glorious colors fade, please remember I have died not forever but only for a time.  My resurrection colors will make the autumn season look like a black and white movie!  Praise God for that promise.

You will go out in joy and be led forth in peace; the mountains and hills will burst into song before you, and all the trees of the field will clap their hands.  Isaiah 55:12

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Red Nose, Golden Memories

Posted in Motorcycling, My Writing Journey, The Christian Life, Uncategorized, tagged , , , , , , , , , , on September 18, 2012| 5 Comments »

4,000 plus miles, one bee sting, one flat tire, one rainstorm, a few chilly mornings, several days of sunsine, a couple days of heavy smoke and a good dose of God’s creation painted in red rock valleys and on high mountain peaks that reached right up and touched heaven.  That’s what I’ve experienced in the past ten days from the back seat of a Harley Davidson Ultra Classic motorcycle.  That trip that I wore myself out getting ready for was well worth the effort.

Every day was filled with a new adventure, a changing landscape, laughter, relaxing, some good semi-philosophical discussions and a lot of just silent reflecting.  I love that part of riding – being able to go for hours withiout saying a word.  Getting the chance to just let things roll around in my mind, pondering, analyzing, testing thoughts.  There is such inspiration in the horizon, such beauty in endless miles of fields awaiting harvest.

Vacations are always good, especially when they get you out of your daily pattern and thrust you into new environments where your senses are stimulated, your brain is engaged and you let go of the demands that pull at you on your non-vacation days.  Jesus fully understood the need to get away.  He did it often when the crowds had worn him down and the diciples were zapping his teaching energy.  He also showed us that a vacation doesn’t have to involve weeks of planning and packing or an extended time period.  Sometimes slipping away to a hillside for a few hours on the spur of the moment can be as refreshing as  a five day cruise.  It’s all in the letting go of where you were and embracing where you’ve gone.

So I embraced the rushing rivers that ran beside the highways.  I embraced the golden Aspen trees quivering in the slight breeze.  I embraced the cloudless skies, the distant mountain ranges, the quaint little towns we passed through.   I let go of meaningful, productive conversations and embraced nonsense comments and silly jokes.  I shook off the presure to perform and took on a bit of laziness.  I had conversations with people I didn’t know.  I read the historcal markers whenever I could.  I tried not to check my email and text messages until the very end of the day so I wouldn’t be drawn back into that other world.

I prayed a lot, listened to God a lot, and did the mind-completely-blank thing for miles upon miles.  It was great!

Now I’m back in the thick of work, church, grandkids, meetings, messages and mayhem.  But I refuse to let go of those hard earned and much treasured days.  When I look in the mirrow, I will see my bright red sunburned nose and remember.  As the fall colors here begin to appear I will flash back to the ones in the Colorado Rockies that took my breath away.  I am going to thumb through my pictures again and again.  I’m going to read back through my journal.  I’m going to continue to be thankful for my husband and my brother in law who planned out and navigated the entire route so all I had to do was sit back and enjoy.  And I’m going to look forward to the next opportunity.

In future posts I will share in more detail about parts of our trip but for right now, I just want to get down in black and white that it did happen.  I want indelible proof of the joy and the freedom and fellowship and the love that flowed throughout the journey, wove together into an adventure and a memory, and is now sitting on the front shelf of my heart’s treasure closet.  God is good.

Give thanks to the LORD, for he is good; his love endures forever. Psalm 118:29

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The Boy Who Got Hit by the Ice Truck

Posted in My Writing Journey, The Christian Life, Uncategorized, tagged , , , , , , , , , , , on May 29, 2012| 5 Comments »

The annual Memorial Day trek to decorate graves with my brother and sister has come and gone. We faithfully visited the long list of buried ancestors, most of who we never actually knew.  My dad’s dad started the tradition and my dad drummed the mission of honoring our history into us.

For years my dad led the charge and narrated the day with stories about Aunt Evelyn and Great Grandpa George, of babies who died tragically and patriarchs who lived long event filled lives, and of the boy who got hit by the ice truck.  We listened but we didn’t write it down.  We always planned to, but time got away from us.  My dad is gone now and with him the details of lives that formed the roots of who we are.

So we find ourselves wandering the rows, pooling the bits and pieces we have, laughing, remembering and wishing we’d listened better.  We thought they were just stories. Now we know better.  Now we know they were the brush strokes on our life canvas.  It mattered that Genevieve’s toddler died of pneumonia and she never had another child.  My dad carried that little bit of sadness with him.  It mattered that one of Walter’s boys went bad and died in a gunfight with police. My dad carried that lesson in making right choices.  It matters that one of dad’s cousins whose name we can’t ever remember ran in front of an ice truck and was killed. My dad carried the reality of how tentative life is from that day forward.

Those pieces and more made up the man who passed on to us the integrity and compassion, sense of humor, passion and everything else that makes my siblings and I who we are today. These are the things we will pass on to our offspring and they will pass to theirs, if we keep the stories going.

Here’s the real tragedy in these ramblings.  I am a writer and I didn’t write the stories!  I used to think writing the next great fiction novel was the most important thing.  Now I know that it is writing the real stories, capturing the true seemingly unimportant details of a life – because my dad’s memories are my history. My present will become the memories that are my children’s history.  And on it goes – the oil painting that is never finished; the canvas that changes layer upon layer, the colors ever deeper and richer.

God knew it. He included in His divine Word stories of generation after generation, stories of dying young and making right and wrong choices, of being heroes and failures, of a father’s traditions being passed on to his sons. He made sure the stories were written down.  He made sure they were shared.  There is a lesson in every one. Just like the lessons hidden in my dad’s simple retelling of the life events buried beneath the headstones. 

Tell it to your children, and let your children tell it to their children, and their children to the next generation.  Joel 1:2-4

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When Good People Go Bad

Posted in The Christian Life, Uncategorized, tagged , , , , , , , , , , , on May 4, 2012| Leave a Comment »

Is there anything more disheartening than when someone in ministry loses their focus and goes down a wrong path?  I don’t mean they completely turn away from God.  That would be much more than disheartening.  I’m talking about the ones who forget Who is in charge and begin to operate under their own power and not His.  Invariably, as part of their new plan, they are driven to destroy what they left behind.

As Christian we want to look up to our pastoral teams and our ministry leaders.  We want to hang our hat on the security that they are solid and will always be.  But often we are disappointed, even shocked, to find them flawed.  Under the power of God’s hand their ministry is amazing.  But when they step out and begin to do things under their own power, trying to convince people it is still God in charge, the power manifests itself in the great damage that they do.

How should we react?  What should we do to assure that the least amount of damage is done and the fewest number of people are hurt?  God gives us specific instruction.

Ephesians 4:29-32  tells us “Do not let any unwholesome talk come out of your mouths, but only what is helpful for building others up according to their needs, that it may benefit those who listen. 30 And do not grieve the Holy Spirit of God, with whom you were sealed for the day of redemption. 31 Get rid of all bitterness, rage and anger, brawling and slander, along with every form of malice. 32 Be kind and compassionate to one another, forgiving each other, just as in Christ God forgave you.”

Wait a minute!  That instruction is for them not us, right?  After all – they are the ones out there trashing our good name and planting seeds of destruction with their bitterness and anger.  Where’s the instruction for the ones wounded by their weapons?

For the answer to that question, go back to paragraph four.  Harming because you’ve been harmed is never God’s plan.  Retaliation bitterness, pay back rage, defensive anger – sorry, not justified either. 

If the Christ who died for us can say from the cross, “Father, forgive them” how can we not do the same? 

Our job is to pray for their angry and misguided hearts, to speak words of encouragement to others so they are not harmed, and to let the Holy Spirit work on the mess created.  Our job is to be the Christian others can look up to.  Our job is to be bold in standing up for what is right but at the same time be compassionate for the one who is being manipulated by the devil into thinking he or she is right. We can only do this if we turn away from flawed earthly examples and “fix our eyes on Jesus, the author and perfecter of faith.”  Hebrews 12:2

Lord, help me to remember.

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My Toddler Phase

Posted in Uncategorized on March 28, 2012| 3 Comments »

I have a grandson just learning to walk.  I watched little Sean go from tottering on tiny feet before collapsing on his diaper cushioned bottom to flying across the floor with flailing arms and a grin that says “Here I go – can’t stop me now!”

How does that happen?  How does a little scrap of humanity that up until now has been carried everywhere figure out there’s something better – standing on his own two feet?   But standing isn’t enough.  Once he can stand he wanst to move.  And just moving isn’t enough.  Once he can move he wants to move faster, and faster, and faster. 

It’s all part of the inner drive to grow beyond; that desire to accomplish more; that need to triumph.  And it doesn’t stop in toddlerville.  It never stops really.  The desire is always there.  What stops is the confidence that pushes us to achieve. 

Lack of confidence keeps us from entering the race, taking the plunge, accepting the challenge.  The environment we operate in changes so fast.  We’ve fallen on our not too cushioned bottoms too many times and we’ve realized that the challenges get harder not easier as we move through life.

Take the social media challenge for example.  At one time I thought mastering the computer and learning to navigate the internet was the ultimate test of my ability to keep growing.  Then entered facebook, along came twitter, and pretty soon I heard the word “blog”.  I held back.  I resisted.  I lost confidence.  I began to think I couldn’t keep up. 

But, slowly and surely my drive to grow beyond outpaced my need to be safe and comfortable.  And that’s how it happens – every first step starts with the desire to jump out of the comfortable arms that are carrying you and onto the somewhat shakey  legs that propel you forward.

This is my toddling, unsteady, first step into blogging.  If you could actually see me push the post-it-now button you would see my flailing arms and a grin that says “Here I go – can’t stop me now!”

I plan to blog weekly at the beginning.  Please be patient with me as I navigate my way through the set up of buttons and links and other stuff.  I am blessed because when I can’t figure it out I have granddaughters to call on!  All I have to do is weather the “Oh, grandma…” part. 

So – if you are reading this, say a prayer for me as God takes me on this new adventure.

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