As I See It

Sometimes you have a day where everything is wrong. A day where the only thing that really goes right is that the sun rises in the east. A day full of harsh moments and strange changes in plan. That was my day yesterday. I drove through and got chicken nuggets out of desperation for food (since being pregnant has meant reluctantly including meat in my diet). Hungry, worn-out, and hoping for an easy meal, I asked for honey mustard sauce for my nuggets. After parking so I could scarf my food before continuing on with my day, I pulled out the container and tried to open it. Nothing. The container wouldn’t open. As I sat there, tugging at the foil, the picture of my day fell into place. This day was like feudally trying to open something that refused to budge.

I dropped the honey mustard sauce in my lap and stared through my windshield, the events of my day washing over me like a wave of sand. Suffocating. Grainy. Unnatural. The compulsion towards self pity is so strong, that often, it feels impossible to overcome. There is an ease in sinking into your own misery and fears. There is a magnetism that pulls out every thought you have been keeping at bay in these moments. And if you sit there long enough, you will forget that God uses days like this for days that are harder.

So then, I dug in the bag for a napkin so I could eat my naked nuggets, only to find another honey mustard sauce container. I pulled it out, and, unlike the first, it opened easily. 

Most of the time life feels like that first container. You tug, pull, and force it to open up. And most of the time it doesn’t. But then, without even asking, you find the other container, the one that opens without struggle. Often, God has that other container ready for us, but in our impatience and frustrations, we never even look for it.

Bad days are good. Crying is good. Kicking the kitchen cabinets is good. Screaming at a knife that just won’t cut through a sweet potato is good. There is no real bad day, there is only the emotion of letting the bad day get the better of you. Because, lets face it, bad days happen so that tomorrow can be a good day.

The word says in Psalms that “Weeping may last through the night, but joy comes in the morning.” As night fell on my bad day I was still banging around in frustration over the things that had made it bad. I was happy to wallow. As I tried to focus on cooking dinner, my husband entered and asked if I needed help. 

What you may not know is that since Nathan has gotten a full-time job in Dallas I have tried to become a really awesome, self-sufficient, superwoman. Now, my drive to do so (and be pregnant at the same time), resulted in me getting a minor electrical shock and a major scolding from my doctor. So when Nathan asked, “Do you need some help?” as much as I wanted to say no, I needed it ever so badly. And saying yes was all I needed to realize that God was standing there too, asking if He could help me.

A lot of times in our drive to succeed at life’s everyday challenges, to achieve that balancing act between sanity and chaos, or to win the little battles, we forget that the word says “The Lord is my light and my salvation, whom shall I fear?” There is God, standing in your kitchen as you gripe about the work situation that makes you want to puke, or the injustice you encountered on a daily errand, or the incredible idiot that you are for allowing yourself to make that mistake, and all he wants to do is hand you that other honey mustard container. 

Last night I took it, opened it up, and saw the answer to what I was looking for, easily accessed and completely compassionate, enclosed. At the end of a bad day I chose to see good. I chose to pet my puppy. I chose to hug my husband with relief. I chose to not see the many hurdles ahead, but see the source of my energy to jump them. And this morning joy definitely came. At 6:30 am my niece Lily was born, bright, beautiful, and surrounded by hope.  And the weeping of yesterday? Pale in comparison to the joy of the morning.

Lately I have found myself less annoyed. More pressed for time, but less annoyed. Busier than usual, but still, less annoyed. Under normal circumstances, the impending political upheaval(and yeah, I believe we should brace for a serious fruit basket turnover), rush of the approaching holiday season, and general, all-around ugly state of the world, would have me bitching without taking a breath.

So what if Newsweek decided to post a blatantly skeptical article about Sarah Palin’s often radical religious beliefs (Palin Believes), with much focus on her apocalyptic views and being spoken to by the Holy Spirit? Yeah, who cares that now, more than ever, the church needs to rise up, not as a bunch of flaky people who seem to have their heads in the sand, but as the body of Christ operating as a righteous example? What does it matter that everywhere you look there is resentment and anger, even in the supposed safety of the Church itself?

Truthfully none of this really is worthy of annoyance, because God is grand, faithful, and evident, and without this knowledge I would probably be somewhere beating my head repeatedly against a wall. I am not saying that we should ignore it, but I am suggesting to find a way to see through it.

Last week my husband, my family, some friends, and myself were at the Grand Canyon. None of us, excepting my mom who had gone when she was ten, had seen the Canyon in any other way than photographs or movies. Upon our arrival we were met with a sight that most descriptive words could not encompass in there tininess, since they were created from the limited understanding of human thinking. There was an awe, yes at the great divide that created a tear in the fabric of the Earth before us, but more at the brilliant, inspiring power of our God.

I told Nathan at one point, looking over the rim and sensing my own heart pounding rapidly at the sight, “How could someone not believe in a creative God when viewing this?”. There was an urgency in my body to propell myself off the rim, or at least stand at the very edge. “I must not miss anything”, I thought to myself. In reality, there was no way I could see it all or understand how massively expansive and dangerously beautiful it was. My mind couldn’t wrap around it.

Just as my mind cannot wrap around the one who created it. God created an earth that is so stunning and wonderful, and yet he concerns himself with us. If you look at all he has done, stand in awe for a moment, because he created you too. I say earth before, not world, because the world is where the mire and muck resides. It is where what God planned and intended has been uglied by the enemies nasty designs. But, somehow, God is in that too, shedding a light when we walk through it.

Which brings me to this moment, where we have to have eyes to see beyond the bad weather of the current world climate. God is faithful and good. He gives and he takes away. He remembers promises. It was important for me to see the Canyon, go out on a ledge and trust my savior that it wasn’t my time to parish. To stand close to something that so represented His indescribable vastness and my own wonder at Him, and to be afraid, but exhilarated.

I may have never known the affect it would have on me to see the Canyon had I never gone, but I know now where I am because of it. There are inevitable times in life when you look around and realize that you are having an experience. Not an experience that just resides in your memory as, “Oh, that one time I ate really good French food” or “That time we built sandcastles at Destine”, both enjoyable, but not altering; an experience that digs deep into your spirit and reminds you that, yes, you are alive and not alone. An experience that changes the way you have previously viewed yourself or your world.

It wasn’t just the Canyon, the fear of falling fast into it, or the beauty of it alone, but that I was willing to open myself to whatever God had to do with me there. To push myself to go out and dangle my feet over. It was the awareness that even in a world where death is prevalent, silver linings few, and the consensus that hell is closing in isn’t an uncommon one, God is still grand. God is still making miracles.

It is a miracle in itself to be able to stand in one place and not need to move. It is a miracle to be able to capture a moment, despite what goes on around you. But more than that it is a miracle to realize you can never fully understand God, all His facets, colors, textures. Like the Canyon, you don’t need to see Him all, to know He is greater than you and to rest in the knowledge of that.

Remember that when you grow leery of the stock market, or wonder where the money for the bills is going to come from, God created the heavens and the earth and still knows your name. He is not like us, He does not get distracted, or too busy. His hand can carve a canyon in the earth, He knows how it all works and is not surprised by anything. He knew the elements in the water and wind would erode the earth just right, to create something so beautiful I am left breathless. It is not a simple task to be the Creator, but still He never tires.

I think that I have always liked avocados, at least since my taste buds matured and I realized green is not synonymous with gross. I have always liked them on a sandwich or as guacamole. They have always been a nice garnish to Mexican food, or a great addition to a salad. However, it wasn’t until recently that I began to see them as more than a tasty treat with appropriate foods.

When I decided to go vegetarian I had to find foods that not only possessed the essential nutrients to keep me alive and operating smoothly, but also that would fill me up and taste good. The avocado is a perfect match, for a lot of reasons.

Avocado’s are not so much a “low fat” option, in fact one medium sized avocado has as much fat as a burger, but that is where the comparison to fast food ends. Of the 30 grams of fat only 4 grams are saturated fat, leaving the other 26 to be monounsaturated (good fat), which actually helps to lower cholesterol. There have been numerous studies done on the affects of a diet including avocados and a lower risk of heart disease.

The addition of avocados to the diet also has the benefit of added variety, not to mention an all-together healthier choice, in your meal options. My husband and I eat these delicious sandwiches or wraps daily for lunch, they consist of: organic whole wheat tortillas or whole grain bread, hummus, pine nuts, capers or olives, baby spinach leaves, cucumber, peppers, red onion and a half avocado each. Nathan and I used to eat Lean Cuisines or canned soup for lunch on a regular basis, occasionally Chick-Fil-A (pre-vegetarianism), or whatever we could scrounge up. We now make it a point to eat these sandwiches and the result is feeling full and getting something good in our bodies daily, without a lot of work

For me I have seen an overall improvement in my skin quality as well. Some of it has to do with eliminating the hormone interference with meats (I still do dairy and cage-free organic eggs, with no antibiotics or added hormones) and an increased intake of water rich veggies, but a lot of it is related to gaining essential vitamins from food sources (and not supplements).

Avocados, besides being beneficial to your heart are chalk full of essential vitamins and minerals key to your overall well-being. With 60% more potassium than bananas, avocados also have the highest fiber content of any other fruit- 75% insoluble and 25% soluble. Fiber is essential for intestinal health as well as weight management (and who couldn’t use that?). They are loaded with B vitamins which among other things, support and increase metabolism, maintain healthy skin and muscle tone, as well as enhance immune and nervous system function. The only B vitamin not found in the avocado is B-12 which you can only get from animal products (which vegans must get from a supplement). Avocados are also high in vitamin E and K, which help with blood quality and wound healing.

Sure all of those things can be gained from other foods, but you will be hard pressed to find another food so substantial in them that tastes so good. All that being said it is important to remember that all good things can become bad if over-indulged in. Since avocados are high in fat, even though it is good fat, it is still fat that can deposit itself on your thighs, tummy, or butt without ever asking. Most research would recommend eating half a medium avocado a day, which can actually cause you to lose a small amount of weight and retain less fluid.

So, in conclusion, enjoy a daily bit of avo and head towards a healthier, fuller relationship with food.

When was the last time you visited the land of child, just to remember the view? You know the land I am referring to: where Oz and Narnia are not distant fantasy worlds, but home. It is the land of simple imaginations, laughing uncontrollably, and longing for adventure. The air is heavy with mystery, but somehow always sweet. Sure there are fears and villains, but you always triumph over them. Then there is the ever pressing desire to leave, expand your horizons to find the bigger world somehow. It is only when we cannot get back there that we realize what we have left behind.

I like to joke with people that I reside in this wonderful world more than in my own, but mostly, it is just my imagination that does. I recall the ideas of a childlike mind with astounding clarity and insight. My personal writing style lends itself to the fantastic, supernatural or dreamy. Whimsy is my close friend and wonder my confidant. But the truth is, finding my way back to Neverland has proven rather challenging.

This week I was in California for a wedding. The ocean was gloriously clear and blue, all while being slightly ominous and disconcerting. I was suddenly aware of my tininess, or of the vastness of the Earth around me, not sure which. There was a sense that I could stand there, watching wave and smelling sea for hours, and yet, somehow I felt myself turning to the next thing, the next sight, the next activity. The shear joy of this experience was cut short by my own expectations, by the world around me that screams constantly “move”.

Later in our trip we had the option to go to Disneyland. Let me preface this by saying, that I own and frequently watch (alone, with popcorn, singing blissfully out of tune) a number of classic Disney animated films. Part of me lingers in those movies. They were there in my childhood, carrying me through some wonderfully challenging growing pains. They bring a smile to my lips and often tears to my eyes. There is something inherently more real to me in those stories than in anything I have viewed in my adulthood.

So, needless to say, I was thrilled to visit Disneyland. We got there just after lunch, paid for our tickets (ouch, not cheap) and grabbed a map. I am an organized person, often leaning on structure and order to prevent me from feeling uneasy. I like to know how I’m going to get there, which is the opposite of most kids, who prefer to know when, with little care for the in between. This goes to the very heart of why as a child, we were constantly wishing we were grown, unaware that the journey is where all the fun is.

I felt like a little girl, walking through the castle; posing with Walt and Mickey; hopping on the carousel, up and down, up and down, breeze and smile. Then, on to the next ride. I have a knack for cutting through a crowd without being touched and leaving my companions far behind, this comes from years of trying to avoid physical contact from strangers. My husband was constantly reminding me of this as I marched toward Toads Wild Ride or loped in the direction of the Matterhorn. At one point he caught me by the shoulder and looked me square in the eyes, “We’re on vacation, not a mission.” I strangely felt like I was. How was I going to squeeze in everything so quickly, I was torn between savoring the moment and not missing anything.

Upon first examination this may seem like the reaction of a grown-up, and were I doing it to just get out of there, just get on with it, maybe it would be. However, if you’ve ever been anywhere with a child, that they actually want to be, they race through it, gathering up every ounce of visual stimuli and capturing the entire experience in one fail swoop. It is only when they are sure they are not going to miss anything that they slow down or go back.

I think I often try to be childlike just by being whimsical and wide-eyed, by being impressed or being hopeful. By dancing to my own drum or watching an animated film. I am someone who is proud of my connection to kid-land. Happy to be there, wish I could stay. But, as I look at the Disneyland experience, one thing becomes clear: I am neither child nor adult. Neither drawn to one world more than the other. I can find my way in my imagination to that magic that allows my creativity to soar, but I will never be able to stay there. Nor should I. There is life to be done and choices to be made.

So, maybe I will stay a while on the sand, watching the waves and savoring a few moments away. But I must return because the most childlike thing of all is not missing what’s going on in the here and now, and not stopping until you’ve done it all. I’ll always have Neverland, but it isn’t “the second star to the right, and straight on till morning”, it’s in me. And you too, if you are willing to look.

There are few times in my life that I feel invincible. I am an average height, small-framed woman in my early 20s.  I am painfully aware of predators; I walk with my keys ready to unlock my car or jab in someone’s eye. When I was kid I picked fights at school, maybe because of some altruistic desire for justice, or maybe just to see if I would win. I won’t lie, I am proud of that. At that time everyone was pretty much on a level playing field, and I wasn’t big for my age, but I was scrappy.

As I have grown older, unsurprisingly that playing field has become uneven, full of giants. Now we resolve conflict or challenges often by just smiling stiffly and hoping for the best. There’s a lot of talk of being humble, polite, taking the perverbial high-road. Which would be great were we not so preoccupied with being noble. Everyone is so sure that those mountains they face can be imagined away. Rather than stare them down, sometimes I feel like we stay back to see who will go for it first.

Yesterday morning I read an article about a tiny puppy who was not afraid of the danger outside his door. (Feisty Puppy  ) The article describes Pawlee’s (the puppy) tenacity towards a family of bears that had invaded his territory. Imagine that tiny little animal, big amber eyes and curly brown hair, being that fearless. It wasn’t like he was barking at an alley cat or a possum, this puppy went up against a Mamma Bear and her two cubs. There was no hesitation, no thought that he was too small to oppose those who threatened him.

That got me thinking about myself. I talk big a lot of the time. I act like I have it together or am not afraid of the changes or challenges I am facing, but it reality, I am terrified most of the time. I like to tell others to have faith in difficult situations, when if it were me, I’d be crying for God to just pick me up and place me gently on the other side of it. The one thing I do have, a lot of the time, is my stubborness. When I get something in my head to do, when I think it is my destiny, it takes the Almighty capturing my imaginations for me to be moved.

So maybe that is a version of faith, because faith is an act of your will and emotions submitting to the Holy Spirit. God doesn’t really give you faith, because he already knows what’s going to happen, he wants you to decide to believe on your own. To be like David and walk into the battle with just the tools God gave him. It is a faith inspired from your own tenacity to meet your destiny, to be feisty just like Pawlee.

Pawlee didn’t see the bears for what they were, something that could destroy him with great ease. Pawlee saw his territory being invaded. He thought of the family that he loved, and probably his food bowl, being threatened. Then he acted. It was simple for him and it should be simple for us. Faith should be an instinct, second nature, not a battle with our own will. 

Sure, the playing field is no longer level. The problem may not be solved with a few punches on the playground or by closing our eyes until it passes. However, the faith that a child has when it faces the monster under the bed, is still found beneath all the logic and propriety we have piled on top of it.  So, be like Pawlee, bark at the bears in your yard.

I love to see it when just one person does something out of the ordinary or with compassion, but to see an entire regiment do it is quite a sight. Here is a link to a story about a very special penguin (well, three very special penguins) and the honor bestowed on him for his service: Penguin Receives Knighthood.

The article talks about how these three penguin’s have served the elite Norwegian King’s Guard. What makes me smile most about this isn’t that it’s a sweet, fluffy story about an adorable Penguin. No, why I am smiling today when I look at that flight-less bird walking in front of a row of uniformed soldiers standing at attention, is because these guards are honoring an animal for his ability to serve and inspire them. They have acknowledged that this creature, while not human, is capable of great things.

There is something to be said for the desire to bestow prestige to something just because you can. Even though little Nils Olav cannot speak the language or communicate his gratitude, he gets the accolade just the same. Maybe he doesn’t know why, by our standards, that it’s special; but I would like to think he feels the excitment of the title regardless. Now that’s a good thing.