Significant.....

Significant birthdays, significant others, significant changes...our hearts are touched by significance.  

I remember approaching 40.  A significant birthday by any standards. Dang, to be so young again. I was coming out of a period of great heartbreak and, you got it, significant growth. One seems to precede the other. That's as it should be.  Everyone has heartbreak, it comes in a multitude of shapes and sizes. They are a gift of sorts. Some heartbreaks are clearly visible, some are carefully hidden from public viewing. Some we only share with close friends, some are shared with the world without our permission. 

This comes to mind as I am in a period of growth, and recently had, an almost significant birthday. Frankly, I like the insignificant birthdays better. Growth is painful, for the most part. It can't be avoided, and is best served with a side of grace and gratitude.  It is awash with questions of inadequacy, remorse and reflection. I know I'm in good company as I share this.  

We do the best we can. Some will only see small pieces of the puzzle and judge accordingly.  Some, those closest to our hearts, know the whole story and love accordingly.  Growth is a process of holding on and letting go.  Of inhaling and exhaling, of embracing the significant, and relinquishing the insignificant.  It is a critical part of our survival.  It softens us even as it strengthens us. We come out better on the other side.  That I can promise you.  So trust the process, trust the Provider and in the meantime....embrace the journey. Therein lies the significance.

Heart of the Matter Friends

Some friends just touch your heart. In one short sentence you can share (and feel) all your pain, all your joy, all your worry and they get it. All the control we think we have, slips away and the feelings wash over you. Intense feelings, overwhelming feelings. They are a safe place to be, and a great place to be heard.

They can be a friend you talk to weekly, text with daily, visit regularly, they could be your spouse, your parent, your child. They can be someone you see, if you're lucky, only once or twice a year. I call them "heart of the matter friends". All other pretense is stripped away, and you get right to the heart of the matter.

It is my hope that I can be that friend to others. Even just one or two, would be enough to return the favor.  Because we all need some balm for the soul. Someone who understands. Someone who celebrates our victories while we can only see our failures.  They see the light, while we see the tunnel.  

I have several friends like this. Call me blessed. One I barely know, but twice I've had a meltdown in her place of business.  The first time it was rather embarrassing, as she was a complete stranger.  Angels are only strangers until you meet them though. Today again I walked in, not knowing how much I needed her.  She propped me up, fed me a cookie, gave me high fives for crossing big hurdles, understood me and sent me back into my life again.  

There are times we need to get to the heart of the matter, and that's what friends are for.

God On The Gravel Roads

There is home, there is work, and there is in between. At either end my mind is occupied with business, and busyness. At either place I am strong and hold it together. In between is where I am neither strong, nor together. There on the gravel roads I speak with God. It's there I weep over hurts and worry over challenges. I marvel at the beauty and I wonder over the majesty. And, there, I let go a little.

If you are like me, letting go is a herculean task. Most times it doesn't feel safe to let go.  Oh, I know I should.  Don't get me wrong.  I know, and still I struggle with it.  Letting go means trusting something else is in the works.  Letting go is believing. Letting go is opening up, looking up and sometimes giving up.

Even thoughts in our head's are hard to let go. I've been working on changing that.  I tap myself on the forehead and say, nope, let's switch over to the positive.  I love that I always answer myself, and my answer is always right.  

Just as I love my God moments on the gravel roads.  I know He is there, as much there as in mighty cathedrals.  He is there is the dust, in the corn, the beans and the red tail hawks.  He is there in the deer, the crop dusters and the grain bins.  

So during that time, as I travel the gravel, I let go. And God washes over me.

Letting Go

Letting go. The opposite of holding on. Let go and Let God, comes to mind immediately.  Boy howdy, do I struggle with that one. I like to hold on, I like to give chances, I like to wait for transformation.  I like to invest. But sometimes, you have to let go.

Case in point, my beloved pointer Mickey. Aka MickLovin, Mickey-Poo, Mr. Mick. Mick has been in residence with us for over 17 years. He has been on the sofa for most of those years, with brief visits to the bedrooms.  He chewed a hole in every blanket I've owned. He's dashed through the yard with a hot pink bra flying in the wind behind him. He's given comfort as a therapy dog. Been comfort to those whom he shared the sofa with. He's been a mentor to all the foster dogs who have brought us laughter, graced our lives and sometimes tried our patience. Several times he took advantage of an open gate, door, or an distracted HuMom and went on great adventures.  He loved those trips, I aged because of them. 

You know where this is going. It's going to the part of letting go. It's the day no one wants to see arrive. It's about making the choice to let go before only bad days remain. The end result is a gift. Yes, it's a tear filled gift. No, it's not a decision made easily. In my heart I see him trotting solidly across the yard as only he could at the ripe age of 18.  In my heart I see him snoozing on the sofa. In my heart I hold on, even after I've let go.  He wouldn't want it any other way, neither would I.    

Pass With Care

Pass with care.  I see that daily on a sign in a construction zone nearby. Funny how that applies on the road, in the workplace, at church, in the garden.  We should definitely pass with care.

Everyday I walk the garden, to see how things are growing.  I pass with care, the flowers and the veggies.  What's thirsty? What's blooming? What needs care. Ummm, we all do. You may not see the growth from one day until the next, but maybe the garden sees me checking on it and is encouraged.  You may not see growth from one day until the next in people either, but we do grow daily. Depending on what we feed ourselves. Therein lies the challenge.

Today I foraged, fed and harvested, yes, in the garden and in life too.  I pickled some garlic scapes to treat us later, and in the process fed my soul.

 
I picked Elderflowers for an summer cocktail infusion.  It would have been more fun with a friend along to wade into the ditch with to pick the flowers. That would have involved giggles, shared confidences and questions of our sanity. Instead it was a solitary endeavor, done quickly in the heat of the day. When it's a finished product I will pass some of it, with care, to a friend and share the joy of the memory.

So I have to ask what you have passed lately. Does it include works in progress and is it fed by faith? Will it feed you in the days ahead? Will it blossom under your watchful eye or will you plant the seeds and let the growth take it's own path. We need to do that sometimes. Pass with care, and watch for growth.  Knowing, all the while, there is only so much we can do.  And trusting, it is good.   

What Is And What Isn't

I read a great quote this week. "I learned friendship isn't only about what you can give, it's what you're able to receive". Brilliance credited to Sheryl Sandberg.  

What is true is that I am a giver.  What is true is I weep easily. What is true is receiving is hard. Even when you know you need help, want help and it's available it's hard to receive. Some people, we'll call them "our people" are bonded to us enough that receiving is as easy as breathing. They do for us, we do for them. Lately I've realized there are way more of "our people" than I knew. They just want to be there. It's humbling.

Case in point, our church family.  Now I was raised Catholic.  I went to a rocking Catholic Church.  I barely new my bible, but I knew my church. It's taken a long time for our current church to feel like home. And, find my way around my bible. That's my fault, not theirs. I was stuck in what it wasn't and resisted what it was. Our church family supported us last weekend, and yes I cried. Most of our church family barely know us. We are newer to this community. As we struggle with financial issues from medical bills, they said you are "our people" and we will help. 

So while they say it is better to give, it is also good to receive. What it's about is opening your heart, about accepting your challenges. What it isn't about is pride. Accept the gifts offered. Be our people, we'll be your people too. That's friendship and faith in action.

Planting Seeds

I have been planting seeds.  Sometimes it's all you can do.  Come to think of it, I've done this all my life.  Lately I've been planting seeds of beans, dill, seed potatoes, spinach, nasturtiums, morning glory, four o'clocks and seeds of hope and faith.  I wish I knew the germination time for seeds of hope.

It's not easy.  But it feels good to get my hands dirty.  Sometimes in life you hardly need any seeds, other times, like recently, there aren't enough seeds available to get you through the day.

Still you plant. Still you weed and prepare the soil.  Sometimes the soil is your heart, your energy, your faith.  Sometimes it seems so uncertain. Where is the rain when you need it? Why is it cold and windy when we need sun and warmth? Why must we dig so deep.

In so many ways seeds I scattered along the way have blossomed for me this season.  I seem to water those with tears of thanksgiving.  You know who you are and I thank you.

 

Other seeds have been sown and I have to let them go. Letting go is a struggle, patience is not my strong suit.  I may shake my fist at them and fret at the uncertainty of it all.  Like that helps the process even the littlest bit.

So I wait, and I plant.  On the good days I trust that work is happening beneath the ground, and will bear fruit down the road.  So I wait.