The Rest is A Miracle

     I just finished my first week of 10K training. I followed it to the letter. I even did my long run in the snow. But my plan got derailed. I woke up with a sore shoulder.
     Yesterday was meant to be a weight training day, but I couldn't face it. I iced my shoulder. I took a nap. I read quietly. I took Motrin. When evening arrived I sank into an Epsom salt bath. When I awoke this morning, I felt achy, but the pain was gone. I went for a slow 2.5 miles.  A miracle! I had the best run I've had in months.

I understand the importance of rest, but I try to ignore it.

Mule deer intuitively know the importance of rest.

     Sometimes I see rest as a waste of time. I miss training and can't wait to get stronger. However, rest is crucial to success. If I listen to my body, it can heal and grow stronger. When I was in my twenties, I ran through pain all the time.  In my fifties, I simply don't have the resilience to push through pain. My need to rest is actually teaching me volumes.
     Modern life is chaotic. Everyone is busy. If we purposely put the brakes on activity and set aside time for quiet, the quality of life changes. New yoga students want to rush from pose to pose. Seasoned practitioners know that how you transition from pose to pose matters. The quality of your transition effects your health in between and your alignment in succeeding poses. It took me awhile to realize this, but my life is like this.
     When my husband lost his job, I was rushing from activity to activity. I was exhausted and there was little fruit to my labor. I didn't solve a thing. Finally we both slowed down and realized that this was a time for us to focus on our son and not our egos or careers. Miraculously, my husband found contract work and a meaningful part time job. Our worries are not gone, but we are relaxed and calm.
    If you are always rushing, if every time slot is scheduled, when can you hear God's words to your heart? You can't.  Carve out a space in your day for quiet. Rest in His presence. You can mull over a dilemma, read an inspirational book, look up something in the Bible, run or simply sit in nature. Transitions prepare you for your next destination.
     When you take a break from physical training your muscles build and rest. When you take a break from worldly concerns, your spirit builds and refreshes. Matthew 11:28-29 reminds me "Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls." When I am calm, I can hear the still, small voice. I am open to possibilities, and even, miracles. Be blessed.

What's in YOUR Purse?

      If you're a woman you probably carry a purse. You may call it a bag or a handbag, but you carry that thing everywhere. It's like a security blanket for grown ups. When my son was little, my purse was a magical bag of tricks. All you had to do was open that zipper and stare into the treasure trove that would save you. There were wipes, an extra diaper, my wallet, a clean shirt for him, a clean shirt for me, at least one toy, a drink and a snack or two. The toddler days are gone, but the purse remains.
     Today's purse has a wallet, cell phone, four pens (Four pens? Do I think I am going to write an incredible missive? Or attend a scavenger hunt where purple pens are at a premium?), three lipsticks, one band-aid, tissues, a lens cleaning wipe, a headband, coupons, an assortment of photos, a sweet note from my husband from 1995 and a holy card of Jesus. Whew! Maybe I should simply graduate to a suitcase?

Sweet mercy! Just get a suitcase.

     We all carry different size purses or wallets. Some folks just use their pockets. Everyone has a different definition of what they need. Yet all of us carry something in common. The photo of my purse contains clues. It's hard to see, and sometimes you have to look very closely. It's not keys, though it is the key. It is sometimes heavy and sometimes light. It transparent and vivid at the same time. It is the very best in all of us:  It is our ability to love.
     There have been times when my wallet's been light, and my heart heavy, but my husband's love--as evidenced by the note I carry--has kept me going. My photos of loved ones speak to heart connections that span time and space. The holy card of Jesus depicts him with a glowing, sacred heart. His commandment is "Love one another as I have loved you." It's difficult, yet so simple.

Your heart is a strong muscle.

     When we go out in the world, we take our cell phone and our wallets, ( If you're me, you also take lots of pens and lipsticks) but what we really need is heart consciousness. Our ability to love is more powerful and trans formative than that silly band-aid floating around in my purse. Love can heal and love can change things. I check for text messages daily. From now on, I'm going to check for heart messages too. Judith Campbell said, "When your heart speaks, take good notes." I have enough pens, I just have to pay attention.

Light Guides

    As the two boys crossed the finish line, they jumped up and down with joy and embraced. They had won as a team. Both ran, but one had special needs and one was a guide. The guide kept his buddy on course and focused. Similarly, at the National Ability Center in Park City, sight impaired athletes ski with a guide. Though the situations vary, we all need a guide from time to time.

We are all light guides.

     My sisters have guided me many a time. Parenting dilemmas, marital stresses and even fashion dilemmas... there is no topic that hasn't benefited from their loving intervention. When my newborn son was ill, my sister found my hospital room in Japan. When I heard her voice, I saw a beam of light crossing the globe and anchoring me to the earth. She was my guide in my darkest hour. Friends and family have stepped in during unemployment, military deployment and sickness. Here's the beautiful thing: This kind of aid doesn't make you beholden or weak. Eventually you will be called on to walk alongside somebody and be THEIR guide. Your own history and challenges actually make you a better guide. You approach others with empathy and compassion.
     For believers, being a light guide is an opportunity to be a channel of God's grace. It is a privilege. Sometimes you guide a loved one. Sometimes you guide a stranger. The soul work is the same. Just as there are fishing, hunting, trekking and snowshoe guides, there are different life guides. There are many gifts but the same Spirit. You may give counsel, teach, encourage, heal or simply be present. Offering your time by being present is a significant way to bring light into darkness and remind a person of their inherent worth.
     The impact of a guide is exponential. The light is passed from one soul to another. It is a vital circuit. When you are following, take notes. Your time to lead is coming.
   
   

     

Same Church, Different Pew

     I nagged my husband to stop in Sedona, Arizona.  I heard that the red rocks were beautiful and that the energy of the place was strong. We drove into the valley and then we saw it: The Chapel of the Holy Cross.

     It is a breathtaking chapel built into the rocks. You enter from the back. The front of the chapel is made of glass.  You look past the altar and out at the valley of rock and sky. The interior has simple wooden benches. My husband kneeled and looked deep in thought and prayer. I sat down and had a humbling, profound realization: The side trip was not about me at all. I was the catalyst, but not the reason.

     Fast forward to this Easter Sunday. My men are less than enthusiastic about organized religion. I could have coerced them to go to church, but that felt wrong. If I really believe that each person must form their own relationship to the Divine, I have to let God's time and ways prevail. We want our relationships with people to be authentic. How much more important is a genuine relationship with the Creator?
     When I returned from church,  My husband was watching Music and the Spoken Word by the Mormon Tabernacle Choir. I joined him and it was deeply moving. Modern Christian rock doesn't resonant with my spouse; it doesn't have to. The concert finished with Handel's Messiah. We watched in stunned, reverent silence.
     There is one God, but many ways to see his face. Today I am praying that each of us discovers their own personal hallelujah. Happy Easter!

The Velveteen Rabbit

         " Dad, did you have a a Johnny Lightening M-14?"  A sad look crossed my husband's face. He replied, "Yes, but grandma got rid of it."  When my son came back into the room, my husband was wistfully staring at the computer, browsing through photos of the Johnny Lightening toy. This little exchange prompted an interesting, and very thoughtful, observation.

Love makes you real.

     My son saw his Dad not as a retired Special Forces soldier or as an authority figure, but as a person with feelings. This put a new wrinkle in his brain. As my husband sat there looking at the long lost toy, he softened for just a moment. In that moment, his heart was on his sleeve and my son saw it. "Dad looked like a little kid. Maybe people stay small on the inside, Mom," he said.

      In Margery Williams' The Velveteen Rabbit, the velveteen rabbit becomes a beloved toy. His coat gets shabby but it doesn't matter because he is truly loved. When we look beyond the surface of people, we are able to love their heart and not their exterior. When my son did that, he saw his Dad differently. My son's heart grew a little bigger. His Dad's world got a little sweeter. In the Velveteen Rabbit, the Skin Horse says,"When a child loves you for a long, long time, not just to play with, but really loves you, you become REAL." Children make us better and they DO help us become real.

Snow Plows

   

When the road's clear, you can drive safely.

     Winter driving in Utah can be treacherous, but our roads are well taken care of.  Well before dawn, crews are out on the highways salting and plowing. Sometimes three or more plows work together to manicure the interstate. My husband says they are coordinated like dancers. I am very grateful that the plows clear away the snow and ice. Because of their work, we simply go on with our activities regardless of the weather. Snow plows are huge and you should never try to out run one. We actually have highway signs that say "Respect Snow Plow Operations." This got me thinking about how God uses events and people in our lives to help us move forward.

     When I look back on the last three years, I see that unwelcome surprises and disasters have helped me clean out debris and move ahead. Of course, I did NOT see this at the time. When the septic tank broke, when my husband was laid off, when my son got in a fight....I acted appropriately: I freaked out. In hindsight, I can see areas of personal growth for all of us. As far as my own growth, suffice it to say I would not have changed some of my ways if I wasn't forced to do so.

Ninja Mom needs a shovel. Shovels and plows are both good.

      God wants us to function at our highest level. He presents us with custom tailored situations that often bring us to our knees. In the quiet, cold reality of our chaos, we finally turn to Him. He wants us to be in relationship with Him. I want to be better about coming to Him with gratitude and not just grumbling. I know He saw me standing in the snow and crying about my broken pipes. I know for certain He heard my prayers for my son and I know He heard my pleas for my husband's employment.  He is gracious and He is faithful. My gratitude is not misplaced. It's simply tardy.

Respect the Grief

    It can creep up on you. Perhaps you are washing dishes. Maybe you are running or driving. Suddenly, you find yourself crying. Grief is sneaky and grief is real. I recently lost my Aunt Mary and it has given me the chance to think about life, death, and mourning, a little more personally.

     In the old days, there was a designated period of mourning. Though we tend to see this as archaic, it did have a good intention. The bereaved wore different clothes and the bereaved were treated with a reserved respect. The whole process was part of letting go. After my Dad died, I actually had a woman yell "How are you, Mary? How's your Mom?" across a crowded room.  I was able to choke out a weak, "fine," but I made a mental note: Never shout at the bereaved! I can't help but feel that modern society barrels ahead. There is little acknowledgement that the energy and composition of the world has changed.
     I am not arguing for a return to traditional mourning, but I am suggesting that a person can create their own rituals for processing a loved one's passing.  My aunt was a generous gift giver. I have taken this to heart and feel that when I give I am affirming her legacy. I feel like I am saying "She lived and she made a huge difference and I will carry on her work."
     Aside from honoring the deceased, it is good to simply take a deep breath and be quiet. I couldn't attend church last week because my grief was too close to the surface. I am not a public crier. For someone else, going to church might be just the right thing. People are different and they grieve differently; it's important to leave room for that.
     I have regrets. I can think of a million ways that I could have been a better niece. But I'm taking it as an instruction to use my finite time on earth a little better. Gandhi said, "Be the change you wish to see in the world." It's never too late for that. Peace to you.