The Most Beautiful Sight

The Most Beautiful Sight

Last weekend at one of my favorite spots I witnessed one of the most beautifully moving sights ever. Something that stood out as extraordinary in the midst of some of the most ordinary of circumstances.

It wasn't the canopy of trees shading the the wooden deck sprinkled with chairs and tables at Central Market.  It wasn't the playfulness of the Lindy-Hoppers dancing to the gentle rhythm of  live swing music.  It wasn't even the scores of kids tangled up together running and climbing over every inch of the playscape in  full view of adoring parents enjoying the evening, the company of friends and family while talking, eating and laughing. 

Though all of these are infinitely precious in their own way, the one that moved me to the core was a particular scene unfolding on the other side of the deck.  Above the seated crowd a tall man, perhaps in his early thirties, stood holding and bouncing a baby the way we do when they are fussy and need to go to sleep, but can't without help.  After a few minutes, infant settled, they sat down and in minutes fell off my radar.

That is until my friend and I crossed over to the same side in our desire to find more comfortable seating and that's when I noticed them again.  Sitting quietly at the table now just in front of us; alone in the crowd except for the deliciously plump infant sprawled out across this parental lap.  Face up, cocoa skin collected in rounds on innocent arms stretched overhead; plump, dimpled thighs just barely long enough to extend beyond his perch. With a jaunty cap of dark curly hair peeking out from the other side of this human resting spot.

For more than two hours, the person I assume to be his father had loving provided a soft platform for this sleeping beauty to lay across without moving.  No rest-room break, no food purchase, conversation or any other discernible activity or shift in position beyond scrolling through a hand-held e-reader.  

And all I could think was that this must be the most loved child on the planet here in this moment of suspended time.  I wondered about what this little boy would grow up to be like for having been rooted and grounded from his earliest days in such a strong, sturdy, protective love.  What would his character and nature be like - and what would he do with such a profound gift?

And I wondered about who this man was and what was he like. Did he love generously because he had been loved that way - or perhaps because he had not been.  I also wondered where the mother was and was curious to know the rest of the untold story here in front of me.  I thought about the way moms and dads love differently - hers is often about comfort, cuddles and snuggles while his is designed to encourage strength and independence.  And I thought about the way media speaks about the breakdown of the family, particularly African-American families and how it made the scene in front of me even more precious; hopefully a declaration that the news is wrong.

I also thought about my own story of love - the ways it has come to me and the ways it hasn't.  All the twists and turns life has taken, and how at age 48 I still long with every part of me to find a love that is true and will last.  And how it is not possible to live present to that kind of longing, so busy activity gets used as a band-aid.    How hard it can be to overcome fears, old, untrue messages and hurts - to take relational risks.

And in the midst of all my unfinished pondering, this perfect baby stirs awake, refreshed from his nap.  He is lovingly placed into the stroller designed for people who run, strapped in - snapped in - and off they went leaving a trail of unanswered questions in their wake.  And I am left alone in the crowd, seated beside my friend; alone with my longing and desire.  What will I do with all of it?  Write.  Write about what I saw to capture the moment like a photograph; turn to my friends and loved ones, not away.  And determine to be brave enough to keep hoping that someday the love I long for will come true for me.

View from a Different Angle - Is it a Handicap or a Gift?

If you know me at all, you know that I love summer; eat it up, drink it in and wear it out. The fresh food, the ice-cold drinks and the weightless clothing of summer; all this and more, I can't get enough of.

So in that vein, on a balmy, summer evening my girlfriend and I hop in the car headed for Taco Cabana.  Which means dirt-cheap frozen lime margaritas and tasty Tex-Mex.  We order our food. find a table and settle in to catch up with each other.

As we talk, I notice a large group of adults and kids at the other end of the room; tables drawn together and engrossed in conversation.  The main reason I glanced their way was because of the noise factor. Their children were running around the clustered tables,shrieking as they played. This went on for quite some time; and the longer my friend and I chatted, the louder and more boisterous they became.

My frustration turned to anger as I silently judged each person at the table for their rudeness in not handling the situation.  Unable to concentrate any longer, I finally looked over, fully intent on catching an adult eye to give the evil look that can wither solid objects. And if this didn't work, I was worked up enough to say something if necessary. But instead of making individual eye contact,on closer examination, I realized that they were all deaf.  Not only was their animated conversation with one another fully engrossing; their handicap was insulating them from the noisy distraction.  They were literally oblivious to the present irritation.

Caught off guard, my emotions settled and I watched for a few minutes fascinated by the graceful hand movements and intent expressions on each face.  And for just a moment I thought about how being deaf might actually be a gift.  How life might be more peaceful without all the noise that constantly swirls; traffic and the city bus, construction, airplanes, too loud music, too many infomercials - a constant barrage on our senses.

How it might be easier to make quality choices and decisions when not being endlessly bombarded with requests for our time, money and attention.  Yes, I would miss the beautiful sounds of nature, baby giggles and even children-laughter, music at a comfortable volume and more.  It was definitely something to think about.

And I also thought about how difficult it must be for hearing children to be born to deaf parents.  Their moms probably don't sign to them about using their inside voices.  No doubt there are other social and polite behavior cues that are missed early on as well.  And how it can be painful to be teased by those who don't understand.

Almost as if this group sensed that their educational mission was complete, they rose from the table, gathered their food trays and loud troupe.  As they walked out the door I thought about the gift and lesson they had been.  And I made plans for them to stick; to root around in my mind and heart to keep things a little more settled; a little more grounded, peaceful and thankful.

Faith is Meant to Work - Making Investments that Payoff

How does the same year feel like an eternity while it's being lived out day by day; and yet in the rear view mirror of life it seems like only a blur of memories and events that took mere minutes to complete?

Looking back over 2012 causes me to wonder what it was that I did with an entire 365 days. I know the year started with many things on my "to do" list; things that even today, March 2, 2013, still remain undone. But, I also know with certainty that every undone task in a crazy way represents something I did do.

All of the unfinished projects in and around my house represent an internal struggle over making the best choice possible at that point in time.  Last year gave me several distinct opportunities to evaluate what means the most to me; to make very intentional decisions about what I am going to invest myself in.  Investments are the deposits I make hoping for some kind of a return.

 
It is simplistic and naive of me to think of my choices as being limited to the black and white of what is "good" and "bad".  I see much more clearly these days that my choices far more often are between what is "better" and "best". 

For me, 2012 was a year of trying to be much more intentional about choosing "better" and "best" far more than settling for "good".  I ended up adopting the mind-set of an athlete in training, because it helped ease my discomfort or out-right pain when the choices were hard to make.  When “good” was so alluringly close and “best” was so far away and out of reach.  It is effortless to fall into “good”.  Choosing what is “best” takes intentional forethought and consistency.

In the Bible, the book of Ephesians, chapter 3 and verse 20 tells me that not only does God want to see His purposes fulfilled in me, but He is also very willing to go beyond that by granting what is “far over and above all that we dare ask or think; infinitely beyond our highest prayers, desires, thoughts, hopes or dreams”. 

But getting to “all that is beyond what I can hope and dream” for hinges on letting Him see His purposes fulfilled in me first.  And because I do have a few cherished hopes and dreams of my own, I am doing the harder work of choosing God and His plans over choosing me and my hopes and dreams. 

As I partner with Him in this process, His purposes are becoming some of the hopes and dreams I am beginning to cherish. I can see a quirky bit of humor in the way that many of my oddities and imperfections which make no sense to me, seem to make perfect sense when viewed through the lens of His purposes.  And surprisingly, as I invest in learning the art and craft of communication for His pleasure and purpose, He is already unveiling bits and pieces of things that are far beyond anything I could have ever dreamed of.  Even more than that – one feeds the other. 

This year I have already had the amazing pleasure of presenting a workshop as part of the Highland Lakes Annual Women’s Conference; definitely a God plan and not a me plan.  In a few short months, I will have the joy of participating for the first time as an amateur athlete in a ballroom dance competition; definitely something far beyond anything I could have ever hoped or dreamed for….Yet as wonderful as both of these things are, they are also the result of investment, practice, study, training, and perseverence. 

It takes effort to reach for a goal.  It takes courage to dream beyond the goal.  And it takes something truly amazing to sow that goal as an investment in making dreams come true.

What about you, what are your hopes and dreams?  Don’t worry if you don’t have any at the moment; I didn’t either when I first started this journey.  But God is more than able to give hope and make dreams come true.  Partnership is the key that opens the door.

 
Ephesians 3:20 Now to Him Who, by (in consequence of) the [action of His] power that is at work within us, is able to [carry out His purpose and] do superabundantly, far over and above all that we [dare] ask or think [infinitely beyond our highest prayers, desires, thoughts, hopes, or dreams
 

Psalm 30:11   You have turned my mourning into dancing for me; You have put off my sackcloth and girded me with gladness,

Jeremiah 31:4 Again I will build you and you will be built, O Virgin Israel! You will again be adorned with your timbrels and go forth in the dancing [chorus] of those who make merry.