Month: December 2011

The Greatest Walk!

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Dusty and I watched the sunrise this morning, waiting for the pink and orange streaks to sneak behind the black silhouettes of our backyard trees.  We sat silently as the darkness deliberately moved out of the way when the light pushed its presence from behind and placed itself before us.  A generous gift, a new day to begin!  We didn’t waste time; when we noticed that the thermometer noted a rising temperature, we grabbed the gift and ran with it, or rather walked with it!

Halfway down the driveway we heard some frantic yelps from coyotes in the distance.  Dusty glanced around, sniffed the closest pile of snow and promptly left his mark on top of it.  Whatever he heard, he clearly wanted to declare his dominance over it.
We resumed our walk, a haphazard tugging and pulling, zigging and zagging about the road. Dusty didn’t want to miss the tracks in the snow there, and over there, and still over in that spot there!  I didn’t want to skid across the icy patches poking through the snow. This would be the moment where, according to my dog whisperer husband Brad, I need to show who’s in charge.  That may be true, however, when I call, “Dusty,” and he looks up at me with what I know for certain is his “this is the greatest walk I have ever been on in my life” look, how can I halt his explorations?
The snowplow that cleared our road created mini snow banks, which became fascinating obstacles for Dusty to choose to climb over and fall into, literally face first. He didn’t seem to notice that he was accumulating sticky snow under his belly, along his legs, and under his chin.  He delighted in discoveries even as he became a disheveled mess.
As often as Dusty either stayed behind for a better sniff, or ran ahead for another find, I tried to maintain a steady stride and a direct route.  However I fear this little comical charade I tried to pass off as a walk probably made my neighbors chuckle as we passed their houses.
I too began to laugh to myself as I thought about the scripture I had read earlier from Psalm 139:3-5 (NLT), “You chart the path ahead of me and tell me where to stop and rest. Every moment you know where I am. You know what I am going to say even before I say it, Lord. You go before me and follow me. You place your hand of blessing on my head. “
I had closed my Bible when I noticed the first light of dawn. How quickly the day began to illustrate the words I had read.  If someone noticed the walk I take with you Lord, they too might chuckle at my stubborn tugs and pulls, as I demand more time to pursue my desires and wants.  Often you see me look up to you filled with eagerness and delight as I share thankful prayers, or with worries and fears brought forth by the day.  However, I don’t take the time to listen to you, to truly understand where your gentle leadings might take me.  How often have I chosen to climb over the obstacles, to slog sloppily and stubbornly into areas that I had an inkling I shouldn’t try?  Yet you never let me go, you have walked with me keeping me on a steady and direct route. Your connection to me by your hand constantly retrieves me, finds me and takes me home.
This evening Dusty is snuggled next to me on the couch in the family room.  He plopped his head on top of my Bible as I began to type these words.

As I close this simple meditation for today, I am drawn to the beginning verses of Psalm 139, “O Lord, you have examined my heart and know everything about me.  You know when I sit down or stand up.  You know my every thought when far away.”

Thank you Lord, for always moving the darkness out of my way, for pushing your presence constantly within me, so that I may always look to you knowing that “this is the greatest walk I have ever been on in my life.”

For today, I have found my peace.

Making a Move with Hope!

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Making a move requires a heaping of hope to believe that the new place in which you deposit your necessities and treasures will provide both comfort and sanctuary. Brad and I participated on the sidelines of our older son and his girlfriend’s (Don and Kim) move this weekend.  Luckily we weren’t recruited for the strenuous hauling of packed boxes and furniture; instead we joined in the activities for the unpacking and setting up of the new household.
Seems that family genetics can cross over into unexpected areas such as “last-minute packing” since I had a general feeling of déjà vu settling in while Kim relayed her version of Donald’s packing expertise.  Apparently stuffing assorted belongings into bags of any sort or shape at the last minute will suffice when Rubbermaid containers are filled to the brink, and any stores that might sell additional ones have long since closed while late evening packing perseveres.  (Just noting here that previously mentioned containers happened to be provided with a personal touch by me, when I realized that history might be repeating itself if I didn’t intervene.)

After chuckling over Kim’s frustrations, I shared my memories of the day over 29 years ago, which revealed the Ford moving gene as a study in positive packing.  I flew into Edmonton the day before the truck would arrive for Brad’s cross-country move to Massachusetts.  He had secured a job at a company in Norwood, MA where we would live after our wedding in July.  Imagine my shock when I discovered that Brad had saved all the packing for that evening!  He still maintains that we accomplished the necessary piling of goods into appropriate packages, moving his possessions in a patient and positive way.  Even as I review this particular pre-wedding dilemma, my stress receptors hum, and my body vibrates with the need to vent growing exasperation.  Clearly it seems that our moving methods present in very distinctive patterns; organization versus chaos from my perspective or annoying anxiety versus purposeful persistence from his point of view.

Brad and I made several more moves throughout the years of our marriage.  Each one offered its own unique set of challenges, and each one revealed the constant contrasts in our “moving personalities.”  Perhaps none so revealing as when we moved from Massachusetts to Virginia when I was 8 months pregnant with our second son, Christopher.

Every year during the days of Advent I marvel that Mary made one of the most significant moves of her life when she and Joseph made the journey to Bethlehem as she neared her time of giving birth.  While I cannot pretend to know how she felt, how she wanted to have everything packed and prepared properly for her pending predicament; I know all too well what it requires to put your limited physical self in an unknown, unexpected, new place.  She accompanied Joseph, who managed to pack the most important part of their household, the most powerful possession the two of them shared: their hope.

No matter how I look at the Christmas story, I will always hold immense admiration and commiseration for Mary, who after all was a woman about to give birth for the first time, and she found out that she also had to move with little time allowed for careful packing.  Oh dear Mary, I can only imagine how loudly your stress receptors hummed, and yet how Joseph probably reassured you by his certain attitude that the move would proceed despite any obstacles.

Throughout the day as we helped with Don’s move it was heartwarming to see him respond to Kim’s looks of frustration or exhaustion. He would come over to hug her and I could see the visible renewing of energy that each hug provided for them..

I remember during that long ago move, Brad would say to me over and over again, “There will never be another year like this, we just have to get through it.”  I wonder what did Joseph say to Mary as they travelled the dirty, bumpy road to Bethlehem?  What shared phrases kept them hopeful, how many hugs did it take to revive their spirits?  How much hope did they move??

A couple days later, we brought a meal over to Don and Kim to share in their new home.  Not every box was unpacked, not everything was in its perfect place.  But we joined in a blessing of the new home as we laughed together and planned for the Christmas season.  Kim pointed to a picture of her parents on their wedding day sitting on a wall shelf.  She asked if we would find a picture from our wedding that they could also display in their new home.  I suppose these small reminders that loving relationships last over many years, will serve as symbols of hope to them as they begin their own commitment.

Mary and Joseph shared a stressful packing experience and a challenging journey toward their new home.  They had no idea how it would all turn out, but they knew they were moving together following God’s guidance.  They packed and they moved with hope.

It is my prayer that during this Advent season, I will remember to let new Hope move in, and just as unpacking continues at Don and Kim’s, may it continue in my heart as I try to unpack God’s guidance in my life.  May I always find comfort and sanctuary at home with Him.

Luke 2:1-7