An incomplete list of goodness...

A very small tally of the wonderful bits of the day:

• the coolness of the temperature
• the hearty breeze
• walking against the hearty breeze
• the happy chatter of co-workers
• the old man in the waiting room with his wife. {who insisted on waiting to go to the pharmacy until she was in with the doctor so as not to miss a moment of her company}
• the C.S. Lewis worthy character of an employee in the optometry shop who called me "kiddo" more than once
• the really early purchasing of colored pencils for the nichetes {for some possible occupation while I'm marrying the Prince of the Way Woods}

He's way too good to me. 
"Fair is the sunshine, Fairer still the moonlight...None can be nearer, fairer or dearer, Than Thou, my Savior, art to me"

“Liwa”

October 23, 2012

Well I do suppose there will be many a moment in my future where I will think, “Oh, but for a day in the meadows.”  So wonderful does it make me feel to stroll about in these sweet meadows surrounded by these towering granite mountains.  I feel tiny and small in the most comforting of ways, as if the meadows of the warm tawny grass are quite meant to be at your fingertips as you gaze at the colossal stones. 

There’s surely something powerful about El Capitan, that it looks so brilliant whether you see it loftily standing from afar off or you draw near the base of it.  And I’ve no doubt those who choose to climb it could attest to that view being full of its dramatic nature as well. 

Bridal Veil seemed to almost float down the side of its cliff today, quietly calling my mind to beauty without soaking me with its deluge.  Fall is a sleepy time for the waterfalls of this valley, they play a slow song to calm the soul I think.

We wandered to the chapel and as leaving I spotted something that looked familiar to the eye of my childhood.  What could the rope by the door do other than sweep a bell back and forth?  And so my mother and I hurried outside while my dad gave two pulls and the sweet peeling sound of a merry bell rang throughout the little part of the valley we were in.  There are many things made by the hands of man that seem vulgar in amongst all the magnificent beauties of the wild.  But, this bell added to it I’d say.  And with that we made our way out of the valley and back to the realities outside of Yosemite.

“Nature is always lovely, invincible, glad, whatever is done and suffered by her creatures.  All scars she heals, whether in rocks or water or sky or hearts.” – John Muir

“Place like a gaping mouth”

October 21&22, 2012

What could have prepared me for the startling grip of this valley upon my soul?!  The moment my eyes beheld it I think a bit of my very being was stamped with it.  There is many a lovely vista in the world but as the car sped through the tunnel and my eyes adjusted to the sheer brightness that this cloudy day held, my heart seemed clutched by awe.  I haven’t the words to describe the scene, the very vastness seems to seep into you and you see farther, feel deeper. 

But as the night has arrived my mind will have to ponder the greatness of the place in my dreams till tomorrow. 

Post Script: a stranger was trying their key in the lock and when finding an unfamiliar face at the window exclaimed, “Oh! Wrong cabin!”, because vacations need weird stories.

 

********

 

Well, big surprise, John Muir was right, even when the waterfall seems to resemble “embroidery” it’s surely a beautiful sight.  How wonderful that there’s no cause for a gushing torrent for beauty to be in this place.  I may even find the quietness suits me all the more.  The way to Lower Yosemite fall is more like a stroll than anything, I don’t know why but it surprised me.  To stand before this massive mountain with the softly falling water seems as though you should have been put to some test.  But there it is, easily found and never forgotten I suspect.

Next we made our way to the bridge before Vernal Falls.  Funny how I just can’t get enough of the mountains, my eyes can’t drink in enough to satisfy my mind that they are true and real.  I found myself reaching out to touch the stone beside me, and my head craning back to see to the top time and again, yet never really understanding the grandeur.  As we stopped on the side of the trail we heard the crack of a rockfall.  Surely there is someone better suited to describe it, so unlike anything else my ear has found that there was no mistaking it.  We reached the bridge and I see the spray of good ol Vernal, probably not much to those who have seen it in the spring but I fully enjoyed the small cascade.  Does everything in Yosemite dance?  The waterfalls, the leaves?  The movement of the valley is orchestrated and choreographed and I feel as if the performance is all for this one in the audience.  And I am completely unable to fully appreciate the art and majestic gesture of these wilds, but I will be enraptured nonetheless.

The Ahwanee lobby beckons to those who love the old fashioned.  I promptly sat myself down at a very old writing desk in the mural room and scribbled off some letters, surely of incoherent prattle, only the recipients can tell as I don’t really remember all that I wrote.  How can I concentrate with the window in front of me holding what it does?!  But as the desk had a little drawer I wrote down my favorite John Muir quote and stashed it there.  Probably to be found by a hotel employee who will roll their eyes, but I couldn’t resist the chance that it might be found by another visitor to this wonderland, and that it might make them grin.

 

“Trust me”, there’s more than one…

Well I seem to come in contact with the phrase ‘trust me’ quite a lot and I was just thinking about how many different ones there are.  I'll list a few...

There’s the ‘trust me’ when you’re being encouraged into adventure, whether it be full of wisdom or otherwise.  On a whole, it’s a great ‘trust me’ especially considering that an often used ‘trust me’ is usually accompanied by an eye roll due to your clear ignorance on a subject. That would be the rude ‘trust me’.

Sometimes the ‘trust me’ is an explanation of someone’s past experience.  It can be an account without giving an account.  A way someone lets you know that they’ve gone through a horrible suffering and so they have an understanding of a situation you don’t.  And you wish they hadn’t had to learn of it.

Another explanation ‘trust me’ can be interjected due to remorse by the one who caused a suffering.  It's somewhat like a warning.   And you find yourself or people you love to be capable of things you thought were reserved for abstract villains in novels.

 

Also there’s one that in its nature is exceedingly heart piercing and delightful.  The one that sometimes comes to you as you watch the sun cast shadows all around you and it looks as though the leaves and branches dance.  Or you hear a whisper of it from some quiet corner of your soul.  Or it seems spelled out in what broken pieces lay before your eyes.

It’s the ‘trust Me’ from the truest friend, from your greatest love.  The ‘trust Me’ that brings salve to the wound in your spirit, or helps you to go on breathing.  The ‘trust Me’ that isn’t fleeting, that can wrap its comfort around you time and again because it never diminishes in truth or ability.  His ‘trust Me’ is the one that when heeded gives Him glory and you sweetness and peace in this life.

 

“Trust on! trust on; thy failings
May bow thee to the dust,
But in thy deepest sorrow,
O give not up thy trust.

Trust on! Tho’ dark the night and drear;

Trust on! The morning dawn is near.”

- Unknown

there was a day in Rome...

08/25/2010


I’m not even sure how to go about describing this day.  I am so overcome by promise, life, and grace. 

I started the morning off by reading through Romans while I sat on a couch in Rome.  As soon as I got out of the cab in front of the Colosseum my throat felt tight, my heart beat faster, and my breath came in uneven spurts.  Such was the emotions throwing themselves about in me that I literally started to feel dizzy.  How odd to stand in a line at a time like that.  Such an ordinary action seemed so out of place to me.  I fought for control of emotions and beating heart and stood in a line in the most ordinary way in a most extraordinary place. 

Up two flights of stairs feeling as if almost every stone was speaking of the past.  Who had reached out to these stones to steady themselves in days past?  I walked through the arch and saw it.  Here before my eyes was the stadium.  I made my way to the front of the fence.  I looked down and my stomach flipped.  So many lives had met their earthy end here.  As I backed away to make room for the other tourists I looked to my right and marveled at the wall towering above me.  I thought of how dwarfed I felt by the high walls.  I began to wonder about how I would feel if those walls dwarfed me still, but housed within them there were thousands of people who were sitting back to watch my destruction. 

Suddenly there was this replay of history before my eyes.  The roar of an angry crowd, the heat beating down, hands bereft of weapon and wild beast beside me. 

Why aren’t there benches in the Colosseum so you can sit down and weep? 

I was so assaulted by the idea I even felt some real terror for a moment.  I looked over the far wall, the sun beams were streaming strongly down.  Oh sweet truth and comfort washed over my aching soul!! 

Here my family suffered great earthy loss.  But it was merely earthly.  Those who so unimaginably bravely went before me have found everlasting gain.  The heavenly triumph dwarfs the earthly loss and suffering far more than this stone façade did my form. 

But of course what thoughts followed all this but overwhelming desire for the faith so strong, for the trust so complete, for assurance that makes one so brave. 

"Heart!” I cried within, “Increase in these!” 

Brothers and sisters here in this very place stood and endured, to their end, the assaults of others’ unbelief and ridicule.  It IS possible to have so much of His heart that the roaring lion be far from persuading you to abandon your place in the kingdom. 

May it be so with me.

just like a rucksack...

At some recent point I had been watching a documentary on the First World War.

I think. 

It may have been a book. 

And perhaps one day I’ll stumble upon it again, (for I looked and couldn’t find whatever it was), that I might give you some actual FACTS and not just “I think”s.  However let me share what I THINK I remember. 

At the border between Austria Hungry and Italy there was a long 2 year battle.  Austria with the high ground and the Italian alpine troops with the lower.  Both entrenched into the sheer side of a mountain I believe called Lagazoui. 

Whatever I had been reading or watching took an excerpt from an Italian soldier’s letter or diary.  This man explained how an injured comrade had to be rescued and transported.  They would strap a wounded compatriot to their backs as they scaled the mountain back to the relative safety of their cave trench.

Basically the whole strapping your buddy to your back as if he was your rucksack made me think, ‘wow, that’s loyalty.’  And then my head and heart formed a bit of an analogy.  So if you don’t like those, stop reading, because I’ll readily admit this one to be somewhat of a reach in the first place.

How often do you find yourself in the midst of a battle?  I know it can be a reality to many of us spiritually and for some quiet literal.  Yet, on this earth, with its bullets of lead, fear, pain, and doubt there is One who is ALREADY the Victor of it all.  And yet He still very willingly stays by your side through every scrimmage.  There is no condescending attitude for you to just pull your terrified and quaking self together, for He knows you are but dust.  Instead He deigns to fight with you that your very Hope be before you.  And thus you become strong and courageous.

When an enemy bullet finds its mark, when your being is littered with shell fragments, and when you’re blinded by destruction, you must remember that He hasn’t left you. 

Not only does He remain with you throughout but when you are only a pain ridden immovable form, seemingly surrounded by the melee, He WILL be the one to come retrieve you.  He will strap you to His back so that you may continue on by HIS strength!! He will carry up the steep mountain side though you be faint and weak.  Do you think He won’t bind up your wounds?  He is your Rescue, but you must make no mistake, you are a solider and it is a war.   

“Blessed be the LORD my Rock, Who trains my hands for war, And my fingers for battle…” Psalm 144:1

Look, sometimes I feel like cannon fodder, but in all truthfulness there’s no such thing in His kingdom.  Not one of us is expendable. His kingdom will be for everlasting and if you are a part of it, you’re a part of it.  There’s no child He sends forth into a hopeless battle because He thinks they’re of little use to the cause.  Rather, what you will learn of Him in the fray He counts of great value, and so will you. 

This war here is but for a time, His true goal is the eternity to pass with His redeemed.  We must all fight bravely but we also must all find ourselves in the very heat of the battle at times. 

He is your Champion you may very confidently follow Him into the fray!!

“Sleep not, soldier of the cross,
Foes are lurking all around;
Look not here to find repose;
This is but thy battleground.      

Thro’ the midst of toil and pain,
Let this thought ne’er leave thy breast;
Every triumph thou dost gain
Makes more sweet thy coming rest.”

-Elizabeth Gaskell

untitled

Alright, hopefully I’ll not overwhelm you with sentimentality but perhaps my heavenly countrymen may understand the genuine delight I find in this day. 

Today there was one of those moments where I was just suddenly smacked in the face with the sweetness of His orchestration and creation.  I don’t know why I always must be “smacked” in the face by such things. 

The beauty of sun gleaming through a leaf on a tree, the fun of walking against a hearty wind when you feel as if this might just be the time it actually knocks you over, or even the halcyon effect of a really good cup of coffee.  Why is it I do not daily…no hourly, see these simple yet wonderful felicities of life?  Well maybe I forget to look, or perhaps choose not to see them just to be contrary.  Whatever the reason it’s truly a shame because the moment I open my eyes and the eyes of my heart to such things it’s pretty much better than an adrenaline rush. 

I find it exhilarating when I realize that something that brought such uncomplicated enjoyment was His orchestration. Maybe I’m all alone in that sentiment, I don’t know.  But, it’s as if by taking notice of the little bird jumping around in the flower bed, and the sun brightening the hillside beside me right now I’ve been reminded of what a caring and loving God we have.   Granted, sunshine has this affect on multitudes but just so you know I’m in earnest, I’ll tell you that my favorite kind of days are actually quite opposite weather wise.  I’m not quite sure why I feel apologetic explaining this lovely moment, perhaps I think I’ll be thought frivolous.  Why is it that we’ve gotten into our heads that reveling in frankly affable moments is foolish or makes us look unintelligent?  Maybe I’ll blame Pollyanna, she always annoyed me. 

Anyway, today the Lord has lead me to see that sometimes the reasons for your cheerfulness must be sought.  We don’t always have to be cheerful, it can be fleeting, unlike joy.  However if one isn’t looking for glad moments how can one expect to find them?  What a lazy seeker of the purely charming I can be!

“Never distrust Him, for you see what He can do, even in this world which is so full of evil and trouble.”-Roe