Vitamin Charles

I wanted to post a picture here but am having a hard time finding one. 

Strong and stalwart. Man with vision.
Grandpa rises in my mind.
Stubborn. Striving. Labor-driven
Somehow reverent, somehow kind.

Family pillar Human. Flawed.
Napweed-killer. Nature-awed.

Angry. Tender. Mountain-seeker.
Fixer. Mender. Careful speaker.

Born to roam, to ride, to blaze
Long trails through trackless wilds
Born to fill his nights and days
With toil and travel, sweat and miles

Story-spinner, corn-cob lover
Teacher, horesman, hero, friend.
In songs, as one note helps another
We're helped to thrive by how you lived.

Vitamin Peace

It's amazing, the lengths to which we go to attain peace. Meditation, running, prayer, banging one's head against one's bedroom wall. All forms of the age-old struggle for serenity.

My friend Julie has found comfort in mindfulness, in naming emotions as they surface and letting them be 'tiny thoughts' that don't rule her. She has also found comfort in art. I visited her work in a local gallery last week, and saw in the soft sheen of her canvasses a reflection of a heart deeply fulfilled by each piece's formation. The paintings, each one, provided windows into the most beautiful part of Julie's soul, and I left feeling as though we'd just shared a deep, unfiltered chat. I left feeling renewed.

My friend Joie, on the other hand, seems to pursue peace through activities of a different sort. She actually enjoys her morning runs and even brings along her black Lab, Sophie, for good measure. Her home is the scene of so much life, so much free exploration, it practically pulsates with explosive energy from within. (Maybe the multiple toddlers she cares for have something to do with that.) From making umpteen-hundered quarts of applesauce while packing for a camping trip to starting her own worm farm as a side business, Joie finds peace in what many would consider the most exhausting lifestyle on earth. But her eyes always sparkle and her step always bounces the most when she's in the midst of her wild activities - so I know she's found what brings her heart rest.

And my friend Audrey: Now she's a rare bird, and a fine one. We're just getting acquainted in that slow, awkward shuffle called "Our Children Really Want to be Friends" - but it appears to me that her peace finds a home in anything feathered or furry. Her pursuits involve leading an entire 4-H club, feeding and housing multiple breeds of chickens, ducks, geese, pigeons, and turkeys, and attending bird shows on the weekend. For some people, that much exposure to all things with wings would start the sanity siren wailing. But Audrey's whole demeanor exuded silent joy when I met her at a recent 4-H event, "They're doing so well," she said of her twenty-some members and their various living entries. "It's been a really great experience for everyone. I'm so pleased."

I'm so pleased.

This same phrase could have been spoken by Joie, Julie, my beautiful cello-playing friend Sally, or me, while I type quietly at this computer. Isn't pleasure truly the culmination of all our peace pursuits? Maybe it's not so much escaping the Crazy we live with, but finding the Amaze-y that helps us really live. Pleasure and peace often walk hand in hand, after all. This is why we turn to certain things on repeat - things as unique as the texture of our hair or the flecks of color in our laughing eyes.

I love it! Our inner selves scream as we skydive, prune trees, or do math. This is what I was made for! 

I think finding that peace - that slice of pure pleasure - does speak to our ultimate intention. For in creating, singing, running, or writing, we enter into the part of the heart of our God that He's reserved especially for us. He designed us to experience these joys so deeply because He is the source of all pleasure. And when we keep that pleasure channel open by returning to it again and again, we are keeping our hearts soft toward Him - even if we don't know it yet.

Our pursuit of peace. Our passion for pleasure. They take us directly to the presence of the Giver who designed all these good gifts to point us back to His love. And when we find it, we hear from Him the words we've spoken for so long, while we sought Him.

I'm so pleased.

Vitamin Lead

Today we celebrated my daughter's first year in "real" school with a May Tea, an extravagant pink affair complete with genuinely caffeinated tea and fresh lemon curd. The efforts of many families combined to transform a side room of the gym into an awe-worthy setting:  Flowers,and gold tea spoons bestowed grace on ordinary folding tables, china teacups lent solemnity to the guests.

Oh, the beautiful guests. Finery from rumpled plaid shirts and brightly-colored ties to gauzy dresses and straw hats for the girls painted the children in a picture of propriety all afternoon. They sat (or slouched) on their folding metal chairs, they stood on a short riser and recited their year's worth of poems and songs, and they fit the part of tea guests to a ... tea.

Not to be outdone, the parents donned their best threads as well. I, for example, spent much of this happy event oogling my husband in his fifteen-year-old suit jacket and tie, lovingly purchased together as newlyweds for his college graduation. It looked as sharp today as it did when we selected it -- probably because he wears it so rarely.

I think my husband enjoyed the view as well. I purchased my first pair of dangly earrings for the big day, found a new sweater to brighten the dress my daughter suggested, and wore my silver high heels. I'm still enjoying the outfit even now - loathe to bring a close to the personal sonata my earrings provide. Even Grandma joined in, hobnobbing with the rest of us as though there was nowhere in the world she'd rather be.

And why not? Would any of us have preferred to miss out? The hassle, the hard chairs, the unfamiliar, texture of our first bite of real crumpet .. even the discomfort of conversing with the total stranger who's passing the cream ... these things are a particularly delicious pleasure when experienced at the request of a child. Wear a suit, Dad? Why not! Sew a flower on my tea hat, Mom? Sure thing. A thousand tiny adventures, many into neglected or uncharted waters, all for the sake of one girl? But of course! It's a sweet price, gladly paid, for her happiness - a little paradise purchased by love.

There's another Paradise I'm thinking of, now. Another set of adventures, another unprecedented feast. And this Paradise, too, features youth, "A little child," the prospective guests are promised through prophecy, "will lead them."

Isn't it fitting? Isn't it right? Who better than a child - any child, or perhaps the Child - to lead us into delights beyond the scope of our brittle adult imaginations? I look forward to that future feast with joy, letting the anticipation deepen my delight in all the little foretastes this sweet present life provides.

"Except you become as little children, you shall not enter the kingdom of God."

Vitamin LOVE

Tonight, I have the sex talk with Jared.

Not overtly, of course. We've done that before. But gently, mulling it over in the neutral ground of a discussion about a book I'd asked him to read. It's called You're Almost a Teenager or something equally inane, and it deals with the life choices middle school kids make every day - including whether or not to stay virgins.

"So what did you think?" I ask my fidgety preteen, hoping to keep the dialogue short. "Could you summarize the book in one sentence?"

Jared screws up his face. "I don't know. Probably ... stay pure?"

"That's great!" I enthuse, pleased with his succinct synopsis. "Now, why does the author think kids should stay pure?"

Again, the deep-thinking face. Jared's wide, green-blue eyes briefly haze over, like fog passing by on the sea. "To have a better ... life?" he finally offers up, looking pained.

"That makes sense," I press deeper. "Tell me more." I know the book's author's a Christian, and I feel slightly piqued that God hasn't crossed Jared's mind. After a few more leading questions, Jared finally forms what I've been fishing for ... sort of.

"I should be pure because it's the right thing to do," he decides. "After all, I have to obey God. He's perfect."

I slowly exhale, the balloon of my hopes deflating with one released breath. This must send a warning sign to my son,  because he immediately snaps.

"Why is that so hard to understand?" he demands. "Why are you asking me all these questions?" His tone escalates from frustrated to rude as he speaks --  a microscopic monologue for most angry kids, but a massive oration for him.

Why, why, why?

His diatribe ends, but the question remains. Why can't I just tell him the right thing to say so we can kiss this pesky discussion good-bye?

Why, indeed.

The truth is, some things can't be taught - or learned - by repeating the right set of words. I long to share volumes about truth, love, and God - but I settle for a quick prayer and a reference to John3:16. 

Then I send him on a walk while we both marinate in our musings.

I, for my part, turn inward as I set to work making dinner. I realize anew that doing "the right thing" is a burden I've shouldered since childhood, something I hope my children never pick up. In an effort to please parents, teachers, and yes, even God, I discovered that DOING right felt deliciously similar to BEING right in the end. It felt so good that I forgot the simple truth: LOVING Right (the Right that "so loved the world" in the first place) really makes all the difference.

Oh, sure. I loved Jesus, loved Him deeply. And I knew (in my head, anyway) that He loved me, too. But I clung for dear life to countless other "right things" in order to ensure that I felt right, too! I was like a whore who, when presented with a respectable husband, claims him - but clings to her seedy lovers, as well. And I held on with a fierceness that, each time I encounter it even today, tells me just how deeply I claimed them as co-Saviors, equal to or better than the Christ who calls me Beloved.

What were my "right" things, my seedy lovers, you might ask? The list is rather mundane.

• ·         Church-going
• ·         Bible-reading
• ·         Smile-making
• ·         Fight-fleeing
• ·         Busy-staying
• ·         Thin-remaining
• ·         Yes-saying
• ·         Home-maintaining
• ·         Forehead-tapping before every meal

Okay, that last one's a joke. But it's no more silly than some of the things I could add to this list. Things like "canning even when I really should take a break" or "making sure my kids leave a good impression" or "never buying baby carrots."

Take your pick, fill in the quotes with anything you like, even "Keeping the Ten Commandments Just So." The silliness factor just won't disappear. That's because DOING right (even for Jared's noble reason, "BECAUSE GOD SAYS SO") never equals BEING right before God. Scour the Bible start to finish and you'll see. What God wants - wants desperately enough to die for - is a responsive, unfiltered love from His creations. Nothing more, and certainly not a whit less. (Micah 6:8, Matthew 22:37, Luke 9:23, 1 John 4:16)

THIS - this love-desire - is why I heave a small sigh upon hearing Jared's response to my questions. This is why I resort to prayer instead of preaching. And this is why, just as I send him out for his walk, I am primed to see a tiny spark of the divine.

Just as he steps into the laundry room to find new batteries for his headlamp, his little sister, Summer, appears on the scene. She's probably like a moth to the flame a potential conflict in the works.

"I wish my brother could go with me," Jared mumbles from around the corner, and I have a sneaking suspicion he's unnerved by the dark.

"Ethan can't come," I respond. "he has homework."  Suddenly, I feel like a heel for sending him out, all alone. "Maybe Summer would go with you instead?" I cast a hopeful glance in her direction.

"Go where?" She raises her eyebrows while Jared grumbles that he's sure she won't come.

"Around the loop," I respond, trying to keep the hope from my voice. "Do you want to?"

Summer's face falls. Jared's potential disappointment strikes like a tiny knife in my guilty heart.

"He doesn't want to go alone," I tell her softly. Then, squelching the demon in my head that urges me to push harder, I screw my face into nonchalance, and stare woodenly into my pot of soup.

A small pause. And then: "Sure! I'll go with you, Jared!"

My heart leaps.

Together, the siblings set out. One silently brooding over the mystery of Mom and her questions. The other blissfully free, happy to walk with a boy who hadn't even believed she would come. In the end, though, they both returned beaming - alive with the warm joy of a dark road, walked together.

No, Summer didn't have to come along on that walk. But she wanted to. Not because Jared showed himself worthy or even acted as though he'd enjoy having her. But purely out of love for her brother.

It's this selfless love that brings a smile to Jared's face, prompts him to praise her for her generosity, and inspires him to mirror that love with kind actions of his own later on.

And this is the divine spark of the night. This is how I view my faith. It starts with Love. Love grows it strong. And Love -- not my right actions -- keeps it strong to the end (John 10:28, Jude 24),

Yes, there are many lesser things I've left behind on this walk of faith -- my religion, my career, my pride (at least the top layer, anyway), my entitlement, and my claims to "rightness" -- along with my fear of baby carrots.  But the one thing I cling to still is the One who holds tight to me. Everything else just can't compare.

"I consider all things a loss compared with the surpassing greatness of knowing Christ my Lord." (Philippians 3:8)

Vitamin Tom

I am so grateful for my church family! But today I want to think about my pastor and his family. I'm driving home from a wonderful visit with mom in Spokane. I had all these hours in the car, and I was just feeling the need for some teaching. I shot Tommy phone call, it was just uploading the sermon from this morning. So I had the pleasure of hearing the sermon I missed while I was frantically scouring thrift store clothing racks for treasures. What a gift! I am so blessed to know the Rush family. Truly encouragers in our faith, they are. I pray God listens them up every day, just as they lift up others. When Eric, from Desert light Church in Albuquerque, said he knew God was sending us here to provide us with family, I do believe God had this church and these people in mind. Praise you, Lord, for filling our hearts with good things. How ceaselessly I delight in your mercy!

Vitamin Kristen

I am so grateful this morning for all the Kristins in my world. But one in particular has made my day. I'm driving through the early morning sunrise right now, headed to Spokane for some time with my mom. Chris, my fantastic, amazing spouse, went out to warm up the car for me this morning just to be nice. I am an hour and a half or more down the road, and was just on the phone with my friend Kristen. We were discussing Sunday school, because she and I take turns leading every month. Chris tried calling and while we were on that phone call. So I hung up and called him back. Lo and behold, the keys dangling in my ignition are his keys. And I dutifully packed my own in my purse earlier this morning. His unlooked for act of kindness turned into a horrible moment when he realized he had no way to get Jared to school or himself to work. For me to turn around and bring the keys back would cost an extra three hours of the day. For him to call the locksmith would be so costly and probably a time waster too. But because I had just been on the phone with Kristen, I remembered that usually have an extra car and have recently loaned it out to some friends. One quick call and our whole dilemma was solved! Kristen is off work today, and so eager and willing to go out of her way to help. And what's more, it's not even that far out of her way. She was already planning on stopping by our house to get the Sunday school notebook. I suppose this post shouldn't be titled vitamin Kristen, but vitamin Christ. How does he do it? Take all the snagged and disconnected parts of our life and we them into something so intentionally, amazingly beautiful. It really does seem like even our mistakes and feelings are almost just what he wanted so he could prove his glory. It's pretty awesome to have a reason to praise him this morning instead of a reason to be rate ourselves. Now, I wonder how I would feel if things had worked out quite so smoothly? Could I praise him just as fully? Now that's a question worth pondering for the next 100 miles.

Edit: I wanted to mention that visiting with Kristen about this reminded me of my desire to have a more noble character. God was giving me a good example of a strong character in her response to our need. So often when people have needs, and they are outside my normal schedule or expectations, I become overwrought and shut down.  I think I even resent them sometimes. It's weakness. Selfishness. Thank you, God, for giving me someone to look up to this day. Thank you for being the best example of all.

Vitamin ride

It's been a long time. So much has happened. But will just focus on this moment. The moment I am driving home after dropping my boy at school.v he goes for one class every morning all week long. The drive to get there is a short one, but oh what a joy it is. After the initial hassle to get in the car and situated, we ride together and read. The book we read is usually so interesting that we make it through one or two sentences before stopping to chat. I love those chats. I love the boy I share that with. And I love the man who wrote the book we read even more. The Bible is so timeless that we can study it in any form, for any length of time, with any age level, and come away blessed. I pray that Jarrod finals as much blessing as I do in the pages we study together. Truly, these rides and this read are a highlight of my day.