Hidden Memories

As I packed my goal of one to three boxes a day, I've come across things I knew I had, but forgotten about. Memories flooded back from the last few years, hidden or missed over this time.

I remember buying these 100 Chinese bike-tube patches for less than $2. I've only used 3 so far. I've biked many-a miles from my old apartment (>3000). My bike could tell stories, some of the ending with him getting extra care in our front little grass-patch, as I bandaged him up. But sure as a marine, he leaves no man (or woman) left behind: He's still my trusty transportation! 

I remember when I brought home the first orphan-flowers. Being thrown out at work, I brought them home 2.5 years ago amid snickers from coworkers. Their new home gave them soup-can or plastic-cup pots to stretch their roots into. Later they acquired real "clothes" of terra-cotta pots. Now, they bask in my new window, among other orphan plants, waiting for summer to blossom.

I remember when a Starbucks customer gave me a bag over the counter, saying the scarf was just perfect for me. What that meant, I had no idea until I opened it up on my break. Lo and behold! I pulled it out. And kept pulling it out. And Kept pulling it out! 11 feet later... yes eleven feet later, I found the other end with matching gloves and a hat!



And this scarf has come in hand this winter., I've been toasty warm in these winter years -okay months- of below freezing and negative temperatures with its long, long, long arms encircling me up to 4 times!

I remember when I rolled and stuffed posters into this tube before going on the bike trip to France. I was so certain that after I returned from France, I would be starting a new life teaching in Haiti. I wanted at least a few wall-memories to take with me along with some of my art. And here they are, I never did unroll them after that plan fell through, which turned out for the betterment of all. The pain has softened.



I remember countless nights in the dorm room with Heidi, Andrea, Kara, Allie, and so many others, drinking hot chocolate, tea, or just hot water from this little hot-pot. We learned and gained friends and sisters, character polishing and refining, tears and hugs: precious moments that are graven into my heart and life. And of course, keeping with tradition, our mood or need in that moment decided for which mug of meaning was used (or was offered by the others!). Life is fun and joy-filled, even with broken areas of us. Beauty and encouragement from multiple avenues. Chaos and simplicity, contrasts and strengths, and character amidst stress.




Beautiful blessings pop out everywhere when I take a moment look around. What blessings and memories has he brought to you?

Back to School Rafting

During these past 2 years of finding stability after college, I have been learning and practicing how to steer the boat of life more gently and understand which rocks and rapids I can and cannot handle.



I have been looking ahead at the distant white foam and spray of graduate school. Now it is here, all around me. Rocks. Spray. Scenery. The boat. Other rafters. Water.

The river raft of life has entered another stretch of white water. As different waves toss different issues of life up into the air, what is on the inside of my boat will come out. For a life as a counselor, do I want to keep it? or change it? or let it get out of my life? What new tools and equipment do I need for this specific river and the river branch(es) that I individually will be one after school? Which style of steering will I adapt to? Who will be with me in the boat now, helping me steer? push ahead? bail water?




Each class has its boulders, creating different water currents, spray patterns, and hitting different sides of the boat. My calendar is filled, marking each, preparing for each, and with God's help, passing each safely.

Along with boulders is my boat itself, carrying me through this, allowing me to go through this channel of white water. Working at Lawry's The Prime Rib as host and server with a few hours at Starbucks each week are giving the air needed to keep me afloat. Here is a tricky part I am beginning to negotiate: when too full of air, the raft may pop; when too low on air, the raft (and I) may sink. I pray for wisdom and guidance in discerning this balance.

With raft and rocks to think about, I often get caught up in the logistics. Yet I pray that I never lose sight of the scenery, the little things that make up the time and place He has placed me. These are gifts to be enjoyed, not ignored.

There are other boats around me. I am not alone. Some near, some far. I see the different colors of each. Some have traveled beside me at church. Others survived the rapids of Moody with me and then lost contact. Now they are showing up as I enter this stretch. Many are new boats, new people I haven't met that God has brought into my life for these months ahead. I pray and look to see how we will influence each other, giving and receiving help, encouraging and pointing out leaks. May we strengthen each other.



And the best part of the trip, the essential that is easily forgotten, the crucial aspect to rafting, and the only way for my boat to enter, stay afloat, interact with others, and thrive is still the uncontrollable part of rafting: The Water itself. The water that I must trust. The water that sometimes seems calm. Sometimes rough. Sometimes angry. Sometimes gentle. Sometimes refreshing. Sometimes annoying. Sometimes painful. Sometimes seemily far away. Sometimes drenching. Sometimes pushing. Sometimes pulling. Sometimes easy. Sometimes difficult. Sometimes pure strength. Sometimes calm. Without this water, my boat would be nowhere.

Without the Lord, I would be nowhere.

Psalm of Praise

All willpower used
But change refused
Condition: less than empty
Dank is my mind
Everything's blind
Failing: my propensity.

Grasping His hand,
He leads toward His land
I follow: my only choice
Joy wells up inside
Kneeling to abide
Listening: for one small voice.

Magnify the Lord, our LORD Redeemer-Provider
Nourishing saved souls, the LORD Almighty, esteem louder.

Outspoken: His sovereignty
Presence: for eternity
Qualities only He possesses.
Respectful: The gentleman
Shepherd: till time will end
Tenderly holds and caresses.

Uplifting: His Essence
Veilings: His lessons
Wisdom He offers the World
EXudes: peace beyond measure
Yokes broken: His treasure
Zealous child at His feet, is curled.

Gains = Losses

God, are losses okay?
Is the pain along with the loss okay too?

I read someone else's blog today. I rarely do actually. But this one was specifically sent to me through email, and it caught my attention: "15 Things I want to Tell My Third Culture Kids." As she wrote her heart to her kids, she showed something few have. She writes to her kids, using memories, pictures, and words of what she sees and knows to be true. She tells them what they need to hear.

She has a gift of seeing the truth of what another person is going through, acknowledging it, and then being open to hearing what they have to say about it. I was caught off guard. How many parents acknowledge that their choices have both positive and negatives for their kids? What parent then wants their kids to see, acknowledge, and comment on how those choices have affected them, both the blessings and the hardships? Not many.

For every person, there are blessings of where we grew up, went to school, the culture whether it be urban, suburban, rural or foreign, jobs we've held, etc. Then there are the challenges of those same things. The gains and the losses all come together. When we gain something, we lose something.




The gains need to be recognized.
The losses need to be recognized.
Acceptance of both brings healing.
Contrasts, create deep beauty.





If we only recognize and admit to the gains, we do not handle life clearly. There is a shadow side that demands attention. If stifled, it will come out in other "acceptable" ways, that are not healthy.

This author sees both the positives and negatives in the lives of her kids. What courage to face truths that are "not nice." And what healing it brings to the child to hear the one caring for them, acknowledging that there is pain in their lives. She sees what they need, a listening, caring, ear, even if it hurts.

I needed to hear those words. We all need to hear those words. Life, and particularly are childhoods have deep positive memories that are unique to each of us. It also contains some deep painful memories. It is okay. Out of losses, our character grows.

God gained a world by Creating it.
God lost a Son to Save it.
God gained a world to Relate with.



(and for those who care, this is somewhat chiastically structured ;o)

French Lessons (Part 1)

'Another favorite question after "Thee" bike trip, was

"So how was France?"

That's like asking a kid how they liked a parade, after meeting Mickey and Minnie, staying up later than normal, and getting stocked up on candy. All they can say, and I echo, "It was amazing!" as memories of so many things dance through my head. Here's what I remember most!

The Lessons of France.

"Sir Ducky" and his creators

Lesson 1

"Sortie" means "exit." After waiting for my massive bike box to get hand-carried in, everyone else had left...all but one customs agent who was engrossed in something other than the wandering tourist who could not figure out which hallway led out. At long last it was found! And I learned my first French word in France. Experience truly is the best teacher. Although my class in spring should help also!

Lesson 2

French culture and American culture.... may look similar but are very different. Especially in communication. Typically:

• Americans are louder in public than French...and often stand out as a result there.
• When in a dialogue, there is freedom to express, contradict, and add to thoughts. No need to sugar-coat, beat around the bush, or withhold them. Each person is "ok" with who they are, and can then banter back and forth without fear. What a relief!
• And though different and at times hard, there is a lot of truth to learn and I liked it!

Lesson 3

People I encountered in France are kind, hospitable, and not stuck-up. On two different, cold and rainy occasions, people took us in for the night and fed us. Complete strangers, who, when asked for directions to campgrounds, offered us shelter. One even helped us with maps, showed a shorter route, and then proceeded to tour us around her area, Cathedrals, a "Bio Boulangerie & Patisserie" and historical monuments with the extra time she saved us! Wow! Complete strangers, befriending complete strangers.


Lesson 4

French fries in France, taste just the same as in the US. They only cost 2X as much, for half the amount. And French bread... yeah. There's a reason why they are known for it!

Lesson 5

While on the topic of food....France (in the country at least) has a good balance of rest time vs work time. Stores close for 2 hours for lunch. And then close for dinner, and do not reopen. All good boundaries come with their limitations... For traveling bikers, that means,  the route and timing is considered wisely, and food bought when possible. Otherwise, there may just be a mad rush at 5:45pm to peddle furiously to the next town 4km away, find a grocery store, and buy food before 6pm. Not saying this ever happened of course...  ;)

Lesson 6

...You'll just have to wait till next week!

Icebergs and Reflection??!!

Recently God has placed the practice of reflection on my heart.

For months, I've been giving reflection small amounts of time, time that I now realize, was enough to simply scrape  the tip of an iceberg. Those amounts of time were enough to scrape real shavings from the tip of the iceberg -they energized me like a snow cone would on a hot summer day. Yet I'm finding more truth. Besides the refreshment - there is so much more to understand, grasp, and explore about it, than merely enjoying a snow cone from scraps of it! This iceberg, is immense. Unsearchable. Deep. Caring. And wants to be known and explored! He is there all the time. He is the perfect gentleman -waiting for me, and all who want to, to spend time to get to know Him.

But I like my merely refreshing snow cones. Why spend the time to search an iceberg? Won't it be barren and lonely in there since no one is with me? Won't I be uncomfortable in the cold of truth? Couldn't I get lost without a guide?

God is the iceberg. Time spent with Him can't be explained. There is no loneliness when with God because He is there, with us, our Comforter. Pain and hurt and hardness in ourselves distort the life-giving glow of His truth. The blue appears cold and hard, instead of radiant from His purity and holiness which warms to the core, those who seek the truth and are set free. And because it is He who encompasses us, He is the One who leads us to His heart, as a Shepherd leads His sheep.

Reflecting. Spending time, the energy to seek out the depths of already known truths and their implications. What a joy! Picking up the ice-pick isn't easy with so many things going through my mind. I've found, developed, and am developing new "muscles" and am a bit sore. Spiritual disciplines are hard -after all, they are "disciplines."

But after digging just a bit, I've decided to give up my hope of an easy life, and make this here Iceberg home.  I don't know where the current is heading yet. But do I know that in the current and coming storms, I'm way more protected now than on any warm beach that would be pummeled and ripped to shreds!