Climbing High

My favorite season has come to an end, and Labor Day tells me so. But I can’t complain. We’ve had an abundance of beach days during this hot, sunny summer. And with a steady stream of visitors, there have been lots of excuses to plunk our beach chairs on the sand for unhurried conversations – not to mention group swims, walks along the shore, and hunts for pretty stones.

Sand duneThere is one beach activity, though, that’s not quite so easy. Here on the eastern shore of Lake Michigan, we enjoy big silky sand dunes that bring vacationing families from far and wide to play on them. The dunes get a little bigger each year, too, depending on how dry the beach sand is and how stiff the winds. One dune nearby has risen to 260 feet and offers a strenuous workout to get to the top. Then, running downhill is a thrill as gravity morphs footsteps into giant airborne leaps.

Hannah and Weezi fly“It’s like flying!” the kids say.

The only catch: you have to climb to the top first.

Trudging up a steep dune isn’t easy. Michigan sand is winnowed by westward winds till it becomes fine granules that roll easily underfoot. On a sharp incline, every step can move a climber farther back than forward. At best it’s three steps up, two down.

But after many decades of hiking on sand dunes, I have one piece of helpful advice: as you climb, step into the footprints of someone else. It’ll give you the best odds for minimal slipping, since someone else’s body weight has already caused the sand to slide. And by the way, the fresher the print, the more sure your step will be.

God gave us some similar advice long ago. He said that if we follow in his footsteps, our progress through life will be good. We’ll back-slide less and arrive quicker where we ought to be. And he makes one last point — the fresher his imprint, the better for us. So, following closely is always a good idea.

IMG_4079When we do, he might even let us fly!

“Direct my footsteps according to your Word.” (Psalm 119:133)

Am I understood?

About a year ago I witnessed something grand in the heavens. Jack and I were on our usual late-night stroll when the clouds broke to reveal a gorgeous full moon. But what caused me to stop and stare was the magnificent rainbow around it!

Rainbowed moonStumbling around the block with my eyes riveted on the sky, I figured the whole world must be watching this incredible phenomenon. As soon as we got home, I turned on my computer, certain that the rainbow-moon would be front-and-center on the news with pictures to prove it. But to my surprise, there wasn’t a mention.

Was I the only one who’d witnessed it? Several days later I got my answer.

Rainbows began appearing around the moon every night, and not just that. They began showing up around porch lights, headlights, and street lights, too. That’s when I realized, “These aren’t God’s wonders at all!”

Having heard friends talk about rainbows around lights, especially at night, I finally knew my rainbow-moon hadn’t been real. It only existed because my deteriorating eyes had created it, and…. I was on my way to cataracts.

Weeks passed, and my light show grew more dazzling. Sparkling white stars began competing for space with the rainbows. No star-of-the-magi could have been more beautiful, but when it came to night driving, I was in trouble.

I tried to describe the problem to people who’d never seen what I was seeing, but they would only raise their eyebrows and say, “Really? That’s weird.” Others would simply change the subject.

Talking to a cataract-person who shared my light-show phenomenon was much more satisfying. They understood, and their own stories matched mine. Together we could chat openly about our limitations and what could be done about them.

It’s always a huge relief to be thoroughly understood. Yet often, when we attempt to explain ourselves, we get thoroughly misunderstood. This can be the cause of problems that should never have to be — especially in relationships.

Wouldn’t it be nice to be accurately understood every time? There is Someone who does this well. God is a champion listener, and each time we go to him explaining our sorrow, fear, anger, frustration, or confusion, it’s ok to picture him nodding, with his hand on our shoulder saying, “I hear you, and I completely understand.”

No raised brows. No change of subject. No conversational confusion. Even if we can’t voice what we’re really feeling or sort it out in our own minds, God is able to fill in the missing details, put all of it in order, and understand our deepest longings. More than that, he knows exactly what to do next and will lead us to practical help.

Cataract surgeryThrough a cataract-friend at church, God led me to a competent eye doctor, who performed flawless surgery on my cataract-eye. And it’s a blessing to drive safely again…. even though I do miss that beautiful rainbow-moon.

“Because he bends down to listen, I will pray as long as I have breath.” (Psalm 116:2)

Go, Granny, Go!

In 70 years I’ve never loaded and unloaded suitcases as often as in recent months.

IMG_1380Last December it was off to Florida to welcome grandchild #11, Nelson Aaron. After 10 days in babyland, I flew home in January, using every minute of two days to unpack and re-pack for Kona, Hawaii.

Kona babyEmerald needed a nanny for a couple of months, and I was the lucky winner.

 

FullSizeRender (3)From Kona I flew to California to spend a delightful 8 days with my cousins and their families, after which I winged my way back to Hawaii to participate in Nelson’s pastoral ordination weekend, a thrilling milestone.

Nelson and Derek

 

 

From there it was a red-eye flight back across five time zones from Kona to Michigan,

 

FullSizeRender (6)where I unpacked and re-packed to head back to Florida for another busy 10 days. Joining in with Linnea and Adam’s lively little ones, as well as with Birgitta and Emerald, I was thankful I could keep up at all!

 

From there, it was another flight home, where I’ve been unpacking and re-packing again, this time for a trans-Atlantic flight to England on Monday. I’ll join Hans and Katy’s family of 7, renewing relationships after 18 months apart.

IMG_5752We’ll celebrate three birthdays, and I’ll work at adjusting to five time zones in the opposite direction of Hawaii’s.

Eleven days later, I’ll fly home along with the sun, back across the Atlantic to unpack once again…. and put my suitcases away. My guess is, I’ll be ready.

Looking down.When flying, I always select a window seat where I can watch the landscape go by, far below. While we zoom along at 650 mph in air temperatures of 50 below zero, I marvel at how small our world seems. For example, two of my kids live half-a globe apart so that when one is waking up, the other is going to sleep. Yet in the time it takes me to read a good book, take a nap, and eat a meal, I can get to both places. The world is shrinking.

Earth, by NASAOften I wonder how God views our planet. Even thousands of years ago, before Google Earth and 767 jets, he looked down and saw our world as small. In Scripture he likens it to a footstool. Yet his opinion of Earth’s occupants is so grand that he paid an enormous price to be sure we could live with him always.

I don’t understand it, but I sure am grateful. And though flying 30,000 feet above the earth is the perfect time to ponder this mystery, being grounded for a while is nice, too. When 18 weeks of “go, Granny, go” morphs into “stop, Granny, stop,” it’ll be ok with me.

This is what the Lord says: “Heaven is my throne, and the earth is my footstool….” What is man, that thou art mindful of him? O Lord our Lord, how excellent is thy name in all the earth! (Isaiah 66:1, Psalm 8:4,9)