The Full Experience

With narrowed eyes and the appropriately scrunched eyebrows, my husband questioned why on a 91 degree day I insisted on leaving my passenger side van window down. Rather than seal out the summer heat thereby allowing the air conditioner to effectively cool the sun-baked interior, I had chosen to keep my window in the all-the-way-open position and hang my arm through the opening.

“I want to get the full experience,” I shared, answering his inquiry before it became vocal.

His eyes narrowed further into slits. “The what?”

“The full outdoors experience. Now let’s drive around.”

“Mm hmm…” Head shaking slightly, he shifted into reverse, and we proceeded to meander through Cataract Falls State Recreation Area.

To feast our eyes on the peaceful, serene setting. And take in the sounds of nature that filtered in through that open window. It would have been a shame to miss the birds’ chirping or the insects’ buzzing or the rabbits’ scurrying through the brush. And the falls. A closed window would have blocked out the cadence of the water cascading over the rocks.

Traversing as close to the waterfalls as my unreliable legs allowed us to go and taking a brief hike along the wooded bank had left us sweat-covered and hot. Still, I wanted to soak up more of the outdoors even if only through the eighteen square inch opening in the side of the van.

Because that’s what a person does when on vacation. Soak up the things that are different from the every day routine of life.

When we’d inched our way along the last of the paved drives, we headed for the exit. As we turned on to the road, I pushed the control to roll up the window.

“Thought you wanted the full experience,” my husband quipped, an ornery smirk tugging at his mouth.

I adjusted the air conditioning vent to blow more fully on my still sweaty face. “I did and we got it, now hush.”

Share one of your own “full experience moments” from this summer!

GOD’s got this

We buried a close family friend today. One of my dad’s oldest friends, a fellow church member, neighbor-down-the-road when my brothers and I were growing up.

It was sad yet triumphant. Cancer and pneumonia are no longer ravaging his earthly body. He’s basking in the splendor and radiance of his LORD and SAVIOR, an assurance his family and friends will cling to in the days to come.

A week ago Sunday we buried my dad’s older brother. We gathered with family members we’d seen seldom in the last twenty years. I re-introduced myself to cousins I’d not shared breathing space with for thirty-five years. Elated exclamations of “It’s so good to see you!” mixed with regretful murmurs, “Why did we let so many years go by …”

It was especially tough as he was the first of three siblings to pass. Yet we rejoiced that his twenty year battle with Parkinson’s disease had ended. We remembered his bravery in submitting to experimental procedures that paved the way for promising treatments and applauded his decision to donate his brain to research. He too gained his eternal reward and no doubt welcomed my dad’s long-time friend to heaven.

Pill Box

My daughter’s most recent battle with medical bureaucracy has heaped frustration and concern upon an already heavy load. Two weeks of shrugs, finger-pointing and “we have no idea what happened…” to secure insurance coverage for a much needed drug. This skirmish comes on the heels of a sixteen-month-and-counting ordeal of wading through mountains of red tape to gain approval and figure out the endless details for another needed medication. And how could I forget the brand-spanking-new, state-of-the-art piece of medical equipment that suddenly, unexplainedly stopped working. It appears an act of Congress may be required to get it replaced.

Yet our excitement spiked late last week with the official announcement of FDA approval for a drug that will address the basic defect that causes her cystic fibrosis. The answer to twenty-six years of prayers! When the discovery of the gene responsible for the majority of CF cases wowed the medical world the very week she was diagnosed in 1989, we knew GOD was already at work. What we prayed would be available within ten years, alas, took just shy of twenty-six years to arrive. Yet we rejoice and praise GOD for his provision through those long years.   

As our beloved country rocks with dissension, as hatred threatens the Christian tenets many of us hold dear, fear and uncertainty creep in, clouding the peace and joy that should reign in our hearts. We lament the way things used to be. We dread what may be ahead. We succumb to doubts and worry.

Let us be convinced that nothing that’s happened has been a surprise to GOD. Nothing that will transpire in the days to come will catch him by surprise.

If you are a Christian, you serve a GOD who cannot be defeated or crushed or lessened in anyway by the plots of man. Now more than ever we must seek HIS WORD to get our marching orders because we are soldiers in the LORD’s ARMY.HE has not abandoned us. Let’s not abandon HIM.

We long for smooth sailing, for easy everything—for pain and disease and calamity to pass us by. For longer—much longer—with our loved ones. For assurance of plenty in the days to come. Even as GOD’s word plainly tell us to expect the opposite of smooth sailing, it promises us that HE’s got this. Whatever “this” may be.

“I have told you these things, so that in me you may have peace. In this world you will have trouble. But take heart! I have overcome the world.” John 16:33 NIV

Two songs have blanketed my mind in recent days.

“Even So Come” by Kristian Stanfill

“Like a bride waiting for her groom
We’ll be a Church ready for You
Every heart longing for our King
We sing
Even so come
Lord Jesus, come…”

“We Won’t Be Shaken” by Building 429

“Whatever will come my way
Through fire or pouring rain
We won’t be shaken
No we won’t be shaken
Whatever tomorrow brings
Together we’ll rise and sing
That we won’t be shaken…”

Will you join me in clinging to the HOPE and PROMISE of Romans 8:31…

“What, then, shall we say in response to these things? If God is for us, who can be against us?” 

Fascination with the Dead

No trees survived on the lot where my new house stands. They were destroyed by wildfire in 2011, long before my husband and I began searching this particular county for a place to call home.

One tree on the lot behind ours stands as a reminder of an area once thickly forested. It stands for only a little while longer, we suspect. A house is being built on that lot, and we know that when the yard is landscaped, that dead tree will be a goner.

It is beautiful, I think. Naked, though dignified and graceful, while all the trees nearby sport new growth. I expressed my sorrow to my husband over losing it from our view, even though safety requires that it not stay.

Is it strange that I’m interested in something after it is dead or destroyed?

I study the forms of dried flowers and seed pods. Of skeletons, both human and animal. I’m fascinated by the finds from sites of ancient civilizations. I read about dead artists, celebrities, and politicians.

Maybe I truly appreciate and understand the composition of a living thing or a thriving system after its life is over.

Have you read either fiction or nonfiction that focused on the state of death or dying or perhaps a decaying civilization? Were you particularly fascinated by what you read?

Don’t Let Your Water Get Cut Off

 There’s nothing like your household water being cut off for nonpayment to make family members take a second look at priorities. Not much can function properly without fresh water. How could we have been so busy to neglect such an important element in our lives and let this happen?

Some of my friends and I are overloaded with responsibilities—between home, family, jobs, fledgling writing careers, and community involvement. I pray for all of us each and every day to have the strength to do what we need to do.

But do we really need to do everything asked of us, or is it OK to say no sometimes?

There will always be someone tugging at our sleeves to help out with this or that. Maybe for something they’re fully capable of doing on their own. A former employer once said that if you want something done, ask the person who looks the busiest, because that person gets things done. Not fair, but probably the truth.

We need to ask both ourselves and our petitioners: What will happen if we don’t serve on that committee or agree to make those phone calls or contribute an article to that newsletter? Is the task so important that tragedy will result if we’re not involved?

I’ve been trying to determine which of my activities are water and which are not.  Which ones are a matter of life or health—for me, another human being, or another living creature?  For our mental health, we fiction writers must write our novels or short stories. That’s a given.

Included in the life category is my spiritual life too, and yours.  Personal time with God, time to be good parents to our children, and time to be patient and kind to our spouse and elders. Without these essentials, not much else will function well or matter in the long run.

Have you forsaken a water activity for a less essential one?