Saturday, July 11, 2015

Weeds



By definition, weeds are undesirable.  We’re supposed to pull them in order to make way for better plants.

But I wonder who decided which plants were slated to become weeds, and which would become cultivated and appreciated?  I think some of the weeds along our road are stunningly beautiful.








 They remind me not to be quick to pass judgment, but to value the magnificence of life.



Friday, July 10, 2015

Slime Harvest



An illusive Slime Monster has taken up residence in our lake.  We don’t know why, when, or how he showed up, BUT he obviously sheds lots of creepy, stringy slime (shudder, it’s alive!).  Unfortunately, it ends up along our shore because of prevailing winds.  After floating in florescent green patches for a while, it dies and sinks to the bottom to sit underwater and rot.

Whenever someone swims, the repulsive dead slime is stirred back into the water to join whatever living slime is already afloat.  Collectively, these suspended, smelly filaments waft like millions of floaters adrift in a cloudy eyeball. After swimming, the grandkids’ bare bodies wear patches of green yuck that’s been trapped beneath their suits.  Fortunately, none of them have freaked out about this.

This morning my husband and I resolutely headed to the lakefront to declare war on the Slime Monster.  Our plan? To sweep our swimming area with an old minnow seine (with several holes in the net).  It worked – temporarily.  Within several hours you couldn’t tell we’d done anything.

Here's a picture of floating (living) slime and another of harvested (dead) slime on the pier just to say….okay Slime Monster, I think you win.









Thursday, July 9, 2015

Light Show







In my experience, inner darkness and its variant shades of gray can remain unrecognized for years.  Even decades. There is a norm, perhaps from birth, that is accepted…and yet dark. Then one day a shaft penetrates to chase away misconceptions. Everything changes.

In this way, I’m beginning to see distinctively.

Such illumination can happen slowly as with the advent of dawn, suddenly as with zipper-flashes of light in the sky followed by thunder, or dramatically, as with recent 4th of July fireworks viewed from our pier.



In any case, something critical changes.  What was merges with what is, lending perspective to what will be.  A veil lifts.  I have experienced an ongoing spiritual dawn for years now, and even a few bolts out of the blue.  However, I never expected this.  In the last few days my heart and soul have been struck by lightning.  I’ve been re-grounded. 

I might have missed it (how odd to think of overlooking something as bold as lightning or as prominent as fireworks) if I’d not been divinely gifted with generous measures of holy grace and the sensitive heart of a poet. As it is, the ‘whys’ of current difficulties have emerged - zap! ka-boom! - to be addressed and resolved in higher, better, and more lasting ways than previously envisioned.  Eternal, and yet very present and real, ways.

In the past, I’ve wrestled with, and tried to remodel, the hard things in life – with God’s help, of course. Call it prayerful self-management, if you will. This is not the answer. In so doing, sticky tentacles ultimately enfolded and squeezed me as if to maim and disable my spirit.  I have remained somewhat trapped, with one foot in the door of faith leading to freedom. I wasn't sure how to walk through that door, to relocate internally.

A man who battled sinister effects from pituitary cancer, and a host of other painful challenges, has disclosed to me what he calls "the secret."  His way looks radical to us, this total desire-turned-craving for God that illumined the hearts of the early church fathers.  It is radical, like dawn, or lightning, or fireworks. 

I’m talking about living out divine love in the everydayness of life.  Being lovestruck, weak-kneed, and overcome by His love. Honestly, this historical perspective of Christianity has been largely discarded as too mystical.  We’re all about being modern and contemporary, and intellectual.  We also strive to be likeable, and tolerant. Unfortunately in doing so we may leave out the intended essence of Christian experience: deep inner healing.

Humility and obedience before God are simple and uncomplicated, but require effort: honest disclosure, ongoing repentance, and implicit trust.  No lip service.  When I turn from preoccupation with circumstantial pain or anxiety to humility before the Lord – the life-giving kind of humility that bows in reverent awe and enables moment-by-moment joy – I wake up to see what was unrecognizable before: He truly is in charge.  LIGHT! 

Then it is possible to rest, to maintain a state of unforced, continual, joyful, intentional worship.  As I actively trust Him with the life He has given me on earth with its myriad of details (including uncomfortable disability), I find peace that was there all along but hidden behind my own smokescreen of control, my own egotism.  My own doing-it-right.  My subtle dominance, even over the One who granted me life in the first place.

This is only a start, and so late in life!  And yet I am grateful to begin again with a focus to pursue the Lord even more earnestly and personally, especially in deep soul-crevasses eager for Light.  

I pray that I may not lose this perspective!  Lord have mercy!

* * * 

“Humility is from God; it is something essential for the human soul.  It is something organic. And if it is missing, it is as if the heart were missing from the human organism.  The heart gives life to the body and humility gives life to the soul….

“There are other eyes, the eyes of the soul.  With the eyes of the body you can see within a certain range, but with the eyes of the soul you can see the dark side of the moon.”

- Saint Porphyrios, Wounded by Love






Wednesday, July 8, 2015

4th of July



The 4th of July weekend came and went quickly, every hour filled with laughter and sunshine.  All ages relished the traditional pontoon parade, lavish dinner ending with homemade ice cream and traditional Dirt Cake, water balloons ejected from a giant slingshot into the lake like oversized baseballs (where batters waited in inner tubes), and magnificent fireworks.  

My birthday added another focus of celebration. I was showered with attention, kindness, cards, gifts, and a cake made by a dear friend who surprised us with a visit from the Old Home Town.

Today I bask in gratitude for this very good weekend and its spectacular memories.










Friday, July 3, 2015

The Grandboys (and Grampa) at Play




Our grandboys are lakies.  It’s in their genes.



Sometimes Grampa (the optimal lakie playmate) adds his experienced touch to their lake play, as when they recently headed out to sea one evening in the pontoon boat with oil-burning tiki lamps strapped around the outside edge.  This ultimate party barge was stocked with snacks, a plastic table and chairs, and a deck of playing cards.  As dusk fell, Grampa lit the lamps to create the pinnacle of floating ambiance.  

My beloved troupe of crazy men whopped-and-hollered-it-up while anchored in a semi-private cove where they wouldn’t disturb anyone (nice of them, I thought). From what I heard later, whenever an individual lost a hand of cards, the others crowed “Beetlebomb” to mark him as the loser – all in fun, of course. If this name doesn’t ring a bell, look up Spike Jones’ corny song, circa 1965, with commentary on a horse race.  Beeeeetle-bommmmb.  Oh yeah.