Category Archives: Connection

Coming Into Port

A further insight on my last post:  By letting my emotions flow freely, even through intense pain, they kept on flowing completely out of me, as long as I avoided the shoals of self-pity. The pain was gone more surely than any amount of stuffing it back into my subconscious could achieve. It felt like gliding into port and stepping on solid ground again.

Then I was prompted to reread Elizabeth Gilbert‘s famous book, Eat, Pray, Love. I just finished it this morning (actually in the middle of the night when I do a lot of my reading) and I was struck by several thoughts. First, I’m not nearly the emotional basket case she is, or at least I don’t live “as large” as she does.

Second, I was reminded of the vast array of spiritual practices in the world and how they bring multitudes to the throne of grace. I had explored many of them, back in my hippie days searching for God: Practicing stillness, auto suggestion, chanting. I remember hearing of an ancient Native American practice of sending depressed people to walk along the banks of a moving river until their own emotions came unstuck and could flow into healing pathways. I had walked along the banks of the Iowa River one summer wrestling with the growing conviction that I couldn’t stay in Iowa to raise my two children under the protective wing of my family; I would have to go to Utah and face those challenges alone where my higher spiritual path beckoned. The process worked, I tuned into the quiet flow of the natural world and God spoke to me through it.

Sometime later, I came across a religious cartoon, showing two movie theater marquees across the street from each other. The billing on one read ABOUT GOD with a long line of people stretching around the block, while the other read GOD with only a few patrons straggling in! I think many of us are afraid of actually experiencing God so we substitute listening to other mortals’ ideas of God, a lesser experience. But all true religion begins and ends with an actual connection with the divine. I propose that comes in many ways, not all of them filled with spiritual sunbeams and lollipops.

Elizabeth Gilbert’s book is an account of her journey out of a once vital marriage, through an ugly complicated divorce, devastating to her self-esteem and life path. She goes on a year-long quest to find answers and peace – first pleasure (eating in Italy), then purity (meditation and yoga in India), and finally a balance of the two in Indonesia where she actually finds it, along with real love.

At the end of the book she returns with her new-found mate to an island where she had retreated two years before just as she hit her lowest point. The first time, she spent 10 days in solitude and silence flushing out all “her sorrows and her shames,” letting them flow through and out of her. So this island acted like bookends punctuating the beginning and end of her odyssey. An inspiring read, even if it’s a little edgier than my comfort level. She ended up making a patchwork life now married to the lovely Brazilian man she found in Bali, where their lives take them all over the world, separately and together. Most importantly, it’s a much higher level of creative achievement and personal happiness for them both.

A third similarity: She was wrenched away from the comfort of her first marriage by her own insistent creative growth. A life force much bigger than her tossed her about until she came out the other side, all rearranged and new. And I’ve been a vagabond in my own life, never completely fitting into any one “port” – Midwestern schoolgirl, New England hippie, nor Utah Mormon – but with a bone-deep connection to all of them. Trying to synthesize these into something coherent has been more than tough. Under my own power, it’s been impossible. But the Lord has led me on an amazing creative and spiritual journey into a higher level of me-ness, not in a selfish way but in a growth way. Just as I described in one of my earliest posts, The Gems Within (ironically sparked by a television interview with Elizabeth Gilbert), the life force has pushed to live even more intensely through me, as it will in all of us, if we let it.

This morning a memory flashed through my mind: of me at age 17 or 18 standing on the footbridge by the University of Iowa Student Union at night watching a couple of otters cavorting on the bank of the Iowa River, silently and powerfully gliding beneath them. Their fur glistened in the darkness as they darted in and out of the water, their long, sleek bodies moving like quicksilver. I realized that if I would deepen my trust in the life force that wants to live through me, I could eventually be like them, moving in total harmony with the universe, in utter joy and abandon – but also doing good and being good.

That’s a homecoming I’ll gladly welcome, even after a terrifying storm. I hope you can also trust your “sorrows and shames” to the Master of us all to guide you into port.

Boat Safe on Shore Courtesy Pixabay.com

Boat Safe on Shore
Courtesy Pixabay.com

An Unfair Life?

Do you feel lucky, especially compared to other people? I mean in the sense of being fortunate.

Overall, the deficiencies of my life have cast a long shadow over very real and substantial blessings, in spite of my best efforts to be positive. I often have to work to rise above self-pity and then I don’t always succeed.

Recently, I visited in depth with a friend who acknowledges not having big problems: professionally successful, a happy family, good health, a satisfying church affiliation, and many friends. As we discussed issues of inner faith, I realized I had a blessing this friend, by his own admission, didn’t have: a living, one-on-one connection with God. And it has utterly transformed my life and view of the future.

Suddenly, I felt really lucky, and I realized I wouldn’t trade that precious relationship for a larger bank account nor even an intact, functional marriage. Can’t most of us see those gaping holes in our own lives? There certainly are people living what I call a “white-picket-fence lifestyle” and who would agree they’ve had very little adversity. But I think many more people could report very daunting challenges (dysfunctional family, divorce, health problems, struggling kids or no kids, financial reversals, etc.) which cast a big shadow over their happiness too.

So how do we regard these apparent inequities? Isn’t this blatantly unfair? Christianity gives us some answers:

  1. God doesn’t play favorites: Then Peter opened his mouth, and said, Of a truth I perceive that God is no respecter of persons: But in every nation he that feareth him, and worketh righteousness, is accepted with him. (Acts 10:34-5) So I have to believe that all will be tested, one way or another, and all will be blessed.
  2. There has to be a good reason behind all our circumstances, even if we can’t see what it is: For my thoughts are not your thoughts, neither are your ways my ways, saith the Lord. For as the heavens are higher than the earth, so are my ways higher than your ways, and my thoughts than your thoughts. (Isaiah 55:8-9) About this point, I have to remind myself that my desires too often lean toward comfort and happiness, not growth nor service!
  3. When our focus is spiritual, the circumstances of life will eventually catch up, in this life or the next: But seek ye first the kingdom of God, and his righteousness; and all these things shall be added unto you. (Matthew 6:33)
  4. Some adversity is a test, but all our losses will be made up in this life or the next. See the story of Job in the Old Testament – God allowed Satan to test his righteousness with terrible adversity, but afterwards God blessed Job: . . . the Lord gave Job twice as much as he had before. . . . So the Lord blessed the latter end of Job more than his beginning. (Job 42:10, 12)
  5. God will heal our sorrows: And God shall wipe away all tears from their eyes; and there shall be no more death, neither sorrow, nor crying, neither shall there be any more pain: for the former things are passed away. (Revelation 21:4)
  6. I’ll paraphrase one of my church leaders who explained differences this way: We are living in Act Two of a three-act play. We’ve lost our memory of premortal life (Act One) preparing to come here, nor can we see what will come after (Act Three) when all will be made up to us. We can’t truly understand our life’s path until we see the whole picture.

All these things comfort me, but nothing was quite so dramatic as this sudden paradigm shift. I really wouldn’t trade my education, my family heritage, and especially not my knowledge of God for the things I’m missing. And I know that if I stay on the path like Job, my latter end will be more than my beginning and that God will wipe away all tears.  May you find peace and thanksgiving in your life as well.

God the Father, by Cima da Conegliano Courtesy Wikipedia.org

God the Father, by Cima da Conegliano, 1515 AD
Courtesy Wikipedia.org

The Cycle of Life and Death

Recently I visited with a friend at church who’s going through the “empty-nest syndrome” since her two oldest children went off to college this fall. Her pain was palpable. I tried to console her with prospects of her girls’ future achievements out in the world and grandchildren to come, but I came away feeling that I hadn’t been very successful.

Sitting in my living room last night looking at the twilight landscape, I saw nothing left but dead leaves hanging dejectedly from the “wall of green” shrubbery that I’d enjoyed all summer. I grieved for that lush, living companion that’s now deader “than a door nail”! (Anyone know where that saying came from?) I remembered how much I miss my own children when they were little, making up original songs and building elaborate structures from Lego’s. I miss my grandkids saying cute three-year-old things now that they’re teenagers. I miss Iowa. I miss New Hampshire. I miss my relatives who’ve gone to their eternal reward.

Death and loss seem to be ever present. This time of year, it can seem pretty bleak – cold rain, gray days, waning energy as winter comes to claim her own. In a book I love, Father Fox’s Penny Rhymes, the mother fox stands gazing out at the relentless rain while her many children whine and cry around her. She moans:

The rain falls down
The wind blows up:
I’ve spent all the pennies
In my old tin cup.

Father Fox's Pennyrhymes  By Clyde Watson Courtesy Amazon.com

Father Fox’s Pennyrhymes
By Clyde Watson
Courtesy Amazon.com

I know just how she felt. Don’t we all have those hopeless moments? I decided my friend just needed her feelings acknowledged and understood. They’ll evolve in their own time, just as mine always do.

As I sat and reflected, suddenly the moon rose behind those stark branches, full and luminous – promising a new perspective and new life. I know my friend will find her own comfort, and I do enjoy each stage of life with my children and grandchildren. I wouldn’t really want them to stand still.

This full moon is a magical reminder that life is not all loss, that new horizons and new birth are around the corner for all of us.

Fall Moon by the Author

Fall Moon by the Author

A Deeper Surrender 3 – Stroke and Glide

I grew up across the street from a huge city swimming pool, so I took a lot of swim lessons. For years, though, I was afraid to spend much time underwater. Treading water for long periods of time was a favorite assignment of my teachers. I frantically paddled hard enough to always keep my head above water, quickly becoming exhausted. Ditto with swimming laps. So I was never completely at home in the water, unlike many of my friends who swam like fish. Was I just a weakling or did they know something I didn’t?

Living in New Hampshire at the foot of Highland Lake, I would swim in the clear, shallow water regularly. It was so peaceful that I let go of my anxiety, spending more and more time gliding through the water with my head and face below the surface. I got lost in limbo between earth, water, and sky, a welcome meditation. Later, several of us would swim after dark in remote Center Pond. I’d picture creatures lurking below the surface waiting to grab me and pull me down to unspeakable depths. But then I’d look up at the stars and the silent pine trees ringing the shore and lose myself again in that magical limbo world.

Finally, when I was teaching my daycare kiddies to swim, a professional swim teacher turned on the final light bulb. We all float and can just fully relax in the water; it’s just that most of us only reach that point when we’re completely underwater! Once we accept that, we can swim for hours if need be. Just try to float lower in the water than your body naturally wants to go – you can’t do it without real effort. The trick is to pair breathing in with a swim stroke that lifts our heads above water, then submerge, find our flotation point, and fully relax while we glide and exhale slowly through our noses.

The glide portion lasts two or three times longer than the stroke. Oddly, until we know better, we focus on the stroke since it’s the action part and necessary for moving forward. But as I mastered this swim style, I also came to appreciate the power of the glide. If I fully relaxed in the water, trusted the power of the previous stroke, and exhaled in a long, controlled breath, I could go on and on. And I found that I never sank very far in the water, no matter how much I relaxed. When I moved into an apartment complex with a large indoor pool, I could swim laps for surprising distances, racking up a half mile, then a mile. It was liberating and exhilarating to overcome those childhood fears and limitations.

I find that relating to my emotional, creative, and spiritual highs and lows is a lot like swimming laps. I appreciate the power of the glide here as well. The rest and reflection that my burned-out body force on me bear great fruit, perhaps as great as my bursts of energy and productivity. I sit in my comfortable chair, watching flocks of birds at my feeder, the “wall of green” beyond my patio undulating in the breeze, and new insights come to me that fuel the next “stroke” or push in life. And I find that the Lord never lets me sink below my spiritual “flotation” point as long as I’m truly reaching for Him.

I recently hit an emotional wall, feeling overly isolated, frustrated, and creatively constrained. But instead of frantically “swimming” against this downward force, I let myself glide through the underwater of my soul, checking out what I was really feeling and why, as well as what my many options for response were. I received insightful advice, solved a persistent sign-in problem on a web forum for like-minded people, and read a Guideposts story about its publisher’s stack of prayer requests that he turns to in odd moments – a good example of how I could serve even in tired moments. Doors started to open in my soul and in my life.

Living from my spiritual and creative “flotation point” has been both empowering and humbling. It’s allowed God into my soul. Next time you find yourself in a pickle, try a long glide under your conscious mind and see what surfaces.

A Deeper Surrender 2 – Flexibility

This week turned out to be the polar opposite of the last two and appeared to make my conclusions of my last post, A Deeper Surrender, appear at least partially wrong. The high I was on from surrendering my will to God’s will was real, but now I realized it may have been unsustainable, at least with my physical limits.

What I learned this week as my energy crashed was that the answers that were so right yesterday may not be right for today. Inspiration, like ancient Israel’s manna in the wilderness, doesn’t keep and can’t be recycled. Time to regroup and shift gears is also part of an unselfish and productive life. I seem to have to learn this lesson over and over. I guess it’s why I start my day with both prayer and a little yoga – to loosen up both my mind and my body – and open up a window to that higher guidance.

So this week, my writing, family history work and real estate prospecting were all pulling on my mind, but I decided to regroup instead. I went to bed between 8:00 and 9:00 pm. I finished preserving the 40 lbs of apples my granddaughter and I picked a couple of weeks ago. My grandson and I had rearranged my bedroom to accommodate a gift bed, but the overflow still clogged my office. It took four days but my office is now free of clutter, and I put up pictures I forgot I had. I feel at peace about what I did accomplish. Next week, I’ll tackle those neglected projects and will probably buzz through them, surrounded by order and serenity.

As I puttered through these tasks I remembered other guidance about similar times:

  • Years ago, I read an article by a busy mom also trying to find time for creative projects. She made a point I’ve never forgotten: within the limits of your schedule, operate from enthusiasm, not a grim list of have-to’s. Her advice: The energy generated by your enjoyment will power you through a long day much better than a whip at your back, and those have-to’s will get done on the coat-tails of your passions.
  • Back when I was teaching high school, I approached the last week of school in a very right-brained, zig zag way. Similar to the above, I just followed my nose in what I tackled – gauging my energy level, which students were around to help, and available time. Many jobs didn’t get done in the time available, but I always got back to them. The very last day, I always had a firm deadline, 10:30 am, when I had to leave for graduation, and I didn’t want to come back. The last half-done jobs somehow all fell into place that morning. The last box went out to my car. The last forms were delivered to the office, the counseling center, and the custodians. The board was cleaned, my desk cleared, and I could go off and enjoy my seniors’ moment of triumph. Somehow I always made that deadline.
  • Finally, I remember a book from my hippie days, Jonathan Livingston Seagull by Richard Bach, a charming little allegory about a baby seagull obsessed with flight who’s surrounded by peers happy to live a pedestrian life on the ground. In claiming his own nature and dreams, he had to overcome many preconceptions about his limits and abilities. Each breakthrough transcended some previous truths or habits, to take him higher and higher, until he broke free and truly became a bird of flight. It’s short and a lovely read.

I hope you all find the answers God has for you in your quest to take flight!

 

 

 

A Deeper Surrender

40 years ago I had a profound spiritual experience with God’s spirit and became a Christian. As I studied the promises contained in scripture, I found a totally different way of life: serve God first, work hard, and then we may “stand still and watch the salvation of the Lord” operating to bless us.

Therefore, dearly beloved brethren, let us cheerfully do all things that lie in our power;
and then may we 
stand still, with the utmost assurance, to see the salvation of God,
and for his arm to be revealed.      
(LDS Doctrine and Covenants 123:17)

I’ve seen this principle work many, many times and expressed in many different ways:

        • What goes around, comes around. 
        • Virtue is its own reward.
  • What you send out comes back multiplied.
  • What you focus on increases (good or bad).

Recently, however, I found myself in a spiritual “log jam” and struggling to muster the faith to break out of it. I hit a wall with my health and energy levels, my prospecting efforts in real estate weren’t bearing fruit so my bank balance was operating on fumes, and I was finding very little time for other writing. After some deep thought and hearing about how people near me were getting great breakthroughs of energy through serving God and other people, I decided I needed to give more, trust more, and ask for more divine help.

Immediately I ran up against human resistance: laziness, procrastination, the “I’m too tired” syndrome, and just plain lack of faith that the Lord would keep His promises. However, I knew I was really stuck at a set level of contribution, happiness and success. I knew there was more to be had, and that I had extra reserves of dedication and effort within. Remembering another scripture, I decided to “experiment upon the word”:

But behold, if ye will awake and arouse your faculties, even to an experiment upon my words, and exercise a particle of faith, yea, even if ye can no more than desire to believe, let this desire work in you, even until ye believe in a manner that ye can give place for a portion of my words. (Book of Mormon, Alma 32:27)

Moreover, I knew that experiment needed to include actually stepping out and living my faith before I could see results, and frankly I found this scary. I already felt stretched thin, tired and overwhelmed, so this required a pretty big leap of faith. But I was determined. I pictured the figurehead of a ship and set my face into the wind to forge ahead.

 If any man will do his will, he shall know of the doctrine, whether it be of God, or whether I speak of myself. (New Testament, John 7:17)

Ship's Figurehead Courtesy Andrea Malz, Wikipedia.org

Ship’s Figurehead
Courtesy Andrea Malz, Wikipedia.org

So how did my experiment turn out?

I actively sought opportunities to serve my friends, neighbors and fellow church members, I dug into some daunting family history challenges, and I worked “harder and smarter” each day. This still seemed like only a token effort – sincere but minimal. However, the results were amazing!

I was thrust into a new level of energy, connection with the universe, and success. I felt currents of love around me and through me. A For Sale By Owner property turned into a listing. Another agent paid me in advance for marketing work. Happy interactions just sprang up seemingly out of nowhere. And a spiritual healer brought welcome release from energy stuck in the past, as well as advising me to increase my salt intake for my adrenals, which worked dramatically. It was a stunning validation of the principles of faith and sacrifice. “The laborer is worthy of his hire” was utterly fulfilled, far beyond my puny efforts. (LDS Doctrine and Covenants 106:3)

I hope I can maintain this vision and level of effort – please keep me accountable. Try it, you’ll like it, as the song goes, and let us know what you learn.

Picking Up the Pace

I have to confess that I’m a closet drag racer.  If I’m the first car in line next to some guy at an intersection and can safely beat him through when the light turns green, I go for it. Friday afternoon, I drove four friends to see the new movie, Meet the Mormons (now in theaters). On the way home, a fellow from our congregation pulled up alongside me in a minivan. He did a great bobble head, nodding toward the light. Like red to a bull, I took the bait. I pulled ahead of him a little smugly until I realized he let me win. Who knew? A bobble head gentleman!

Sitting in church this morning, listening to both a departing and a returning missionary, I realized we are in a different kind of race – the race between those in God’s army and those promoting a life based on selfish pleasure and gain.

I thought about how the many amazing people around me are increasing their contributions to the human family: ministering to prison populations, serving the homeless, or taking their kids to do service in the Third World (see Two Roatans). I thought about how the spread of Christianity is accelerating worldwide, especially in third world countries, and how those converts beam as they describe finding God. Click HERE for numbers and HERE for some stories.

Many Christian churches are sending missionaries and humanitarian aid workers all over the world to spread the gospel of Jesus Christ and help those in dire need. My own church has over 83,000 missionaries in 409 missions worldwide, plus 12,000 humanitarian aid workers in 182 countries, most paying their own way. There’s been an urgent call from our leaders to hasten both the missionary and family history work, helping our ancestors also receive saving ordinances.

But here in America, the opposite is too often true. Church attendance is declining and the numbers of nonbelievers is increasing, according to the Pew Research Institute. For a nation whose founding fathers were solidly Christian, we’ve departed far from their vision (see my post, Covenant America). Selfless idealism has yielded to the entitlement mentality. Morality has degenerated into Animal House. Church attendance, prayer in many public places, and a belief in a higher power are decidedly unpopular and even illegal. And the trend seems to be picking up speed.

Perhaps there’s a race that’s intensifying between the secular and the Christian world to see who can win the most converts. Scriptures have long foretold our day when the forces of evil and the forces of good would collide in the largest battle ever seen. This could be really scary except they also tell us the ending, and that the good guys win!

But it’ll be easier to ride out those struggles if we know what we believe and which race we’re running. Where do you stand, and how fast are you running?

Check out a great personal story:

The WWII Candy Bomber

The Candy Bomber in Germany, 1948 Courtesy Blog.Chron.Com/Mormon Voice

The Candy Bomber in Germany, 1948
Courtesy Blog.Chron.Com/Mormon Voice

 

The Still Small Voice

Growing up in the heart of a Midwestern university town, I acquired early the habit of sitting at the feet of “experts.” I was drawn to teachers who humbly acknowledged a vast pool of knowledge not yet fully understood by academics. They were childlike in their enthusiasm for discovering new truths. A small minority were arrogant, cramming their own pedagogy down our throats. Most of us avoided them like the plague. Sadly, the “politically correct” more and more dominate our society, with their strident voices. When I found God at age 31, I discovered a whole new avenue to truth. He spoke directly to my heart and spirit, so I know God exists and answers prayers. First I was a Christian. Then I was introduced to the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints and studied its history and doctrine, eventually receiving a clear witness from God that “this was His work.” He speaks today through His prophet just as He spoke to men in ancient times through prophets, not just to us individually in prayer. This weekend, we have the opportunity to hear inspired messages from the Lord’s prophet and apostles during our semi-annual worldwide General Conference. Locally, it’s broadcast on Channel 7.2 (listed as 24/7 on cable rosters), Saturday and Sunday 10-12 and 2-4 both days. The normal Tabernacle Choir broadcast airs at 9:30 Sunday morning. I invite all to listen and feel God’s Spirit speaking personally to each of us. The most fundamental religious experience is the one we have on our knees in prayer and spiritual communion with the Holy Spirit. Only then can these messages convey their full impact. As a society, we have lost the basic understanding that there actually is a God. He formed Christ’s church anciently and He’s restored it in our day, with the same organization of prophets and apostles, priesthood, and the ordinances necessary for us to progress in the next life. The Ten Commandments were in force then, and they still are today. People can ignore them, but no one can ignore the consequences of disobeying them, nor can they change those consequences, any more than we can ignore gravity or change how it works. Since that time, the Lord has guided my footsteps many times, blessed me with opportunities and comfort, then corrected me when I needed it. I don’t experience Him to be harsh, arbitrary or controlling, as the media is sometimes inclined to portray Deity. God is a gentleman, not forcing His presence into our unwilling minds and hearts, speaking to us only in a “still, small voice,” as we let him.

Behold, I stand at the door, and knock: if any man hear my voice, and open the door, I will come in to him, and will sup with him, and he with me. (Revelation 3:20)

In the midst of the many voices around us, let’s still the noise of the world and tune into that quiet voice. In a darkening world, this voice will become increasingly important to our personal peace. Test out this promise in the Book of Revelation on your knees in private, sincere prayer and see where it takes you!

Angel Moroni atop Reno, Nevada Temple Courtesy Wikipedia Commons

Angel Moroni atop Reno, Nevada Temple
Courtesy Wikipedia Commons

Two Roatans

This week I happened on a PBS travel show in which a charming young woman was exploring exotic sites in Central America, one of which was the island of Roatan in Honduras. She hiked, scuba dived, and dined in elegant style on the their gorgeous beaches. She had a blast and learned interesting things about their culture and history.

Coincidentally, some friends had just spoken in church about their own trip to Roatan, spending six months there with their two teenagers, Ethan and Ellie. Family goals certainly included fun, but with their main focus was on serving others and learning to “do hard things” by lowering their standard of living. With no car, they walked, hitchhiked, or took buses and taxis. They only had electricity and hot water some of the time, no washer and dryer, unwelcome bugs, and a rustic home that needed frequent repairs.

The kids did home school for three months, often doing homework in a hammock, then attended a local school the last three months. It was a tough adjustment walking a mile and a half to church and over two miles to their current service project, but they hung in there. They learned to sing to pass the time and get to know people along the way. By trip’s end, the grumbles turned to good memories and gratitude for a rich experience.

What’s the difference? Our first traveler focused on fun and experienced Roatan strictly as a tourist. My friends lived the life of the locals, eating in “hole-in-the-wall” cafes no tourists ever saw or cooking their own food bought at the native market. They volunteered at the local orphanage, in a mobile dental clinic, at the local library, photographed headstones for billiongraves.com, and more.  Here are some of their personal photos. I wholeheartedly recommend their blog:  What I Learned in Roatan

Ethan and Ellie at Mobile Dental Clinic Used by permission, All Rights Reserved

Ethan and Ellie at Mobile Dental Clinic
Used with permission, All Rights Reserved

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Ethan at Lighthouse Ministries Orphanage Used with Permission, All Rights Reserved

Ethan at Lighthouse Ministries Orphanage
Used with Permission, All Rights Reserved

Ethan and Ellie in Paradise Used with Permission, All Rights Reserved

Ethan and Ellie in Paradise
Used with Permission, All Rights Reserved

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Roatan Library Donation Box, Painted by Mom Stephanie Used with Permission, All Rights Reserved

Roatan Library Donation Box, Painted by Mom Stephanie
Used with Permission, All Rights Reserved

I can’t help but wonder how this trip will affect Ethan and Ellie’s future, compared to kids raised with not only a silver spoon in their mouths but also in their souls, living for themselves and not so much for what they can give back to humanity.

I think of the following scripture in Matthew 16:24-27:

Then said Jesus unto his disciples, If any man will come after me, let him deny himself, and take up his cross, and follow me. For whosoever will save his life shall lose it: and whosoever will lose his life for my sake shall find it. For what is a man profited, if he shall gain the whole world, and lose his own soul? or what shall a man give in exchange for his soul?  For the Son of man shall come in the glory of his Father with his angels; and then he shall reward every man according to his works.

Jesus was the ultimate example of serving others, not Himself. I think Ethan and Ellie learned precious lessons in Roatan, not just how to do good but also how to live a happier, more fulfilled life, connected to the grand, eternal cycle of life.

Two Roatans.  Two perspectives in life.  One on self, one on others.  It’s a choice we all face.  And just like the two roads that diverge in a wood, that choice makes all the difference.

 

Silent Mountains

In 2001, I went on a student tour of Europe. While in Italy, I wandered out to the balcony of our hotel room late one night to just sit and let my thoughts wander over the amazing experiences we were having. Gradually, I noticed some very large, dark shapes on the skyline and quickly realized they were mountains with not a light showing on any of them. They seemed to ring the city like silent sentinels from the past. I imagined they were symbolic of the dead civilizations of Europe whose remains we were viewing on this trip:  Greek, Roman, and Etruscan. All were gone but they cast long shadows, still influence our lives today, and provided the foundations of Western Civilization. I wondered if we, with all our modern ways and seeming cultural security, will ever suffer the same fate: Dust to Dust, Ashes to Ashes, as the saying goes. But no matter, I’ll celebrate what we’ve achieved over the last 1500 or more years. My thoughts then turned to other mountains of influence in my life: The University of Iowa where my father and grandfather both spent their entire working lives, along with the dads of almost all my friends. I attended a University “lab school” where professors’ kids were taught by the brightest and best graduate students and senior faculty. The entire weight and majesty of Western Civilization gradually unfolded before my initially reluctant eyes, but that reluctance turned pretty quickly to a love affair with history, music, and art. Try visiting Mozart’s birthplace in Salzburg with his glorious arias piped into every room – it’s enough to melt the hardest heart. Or view Bernini’s sculpture The Ecstasy of Saint Teresa in Rome and try to hold back the tears.

Ecstasy of Saint Teresa, by Gian Lorenzo Bernini Courtesy I. Sailko, Wikipedia

Ecstasy of Saint Teresa, by Gian Lorenzo Bernini
Courtesy I. Sailko, Wikipedia

I attended college classes in four ancient granite buildings that surrounded the “Old Capitol” building, set in the center of what we called The Pentacrest, five buildings that were the heart of the College of Liberal Arts at the University. The photo below was taken by my father on a cold winter day which I prize above all my memories of the sunny spring days I spent there because so much of my education was gained by not only braving the elements (I walked or took the bus to classes in all weather), but by braving the wilderness within – my life was forever changed. From that foundation, all the subsequent learning in my life found a harmonious home. What a heritage and how grateful I am to those who made it possible. Other personal mountains that surrounded me were the standards of hard work and honesty I found all around me – my own family and others who dedicated themselves to something good and greater than their own self-interest. And I’m grateful for the example of neighborliness of my parents, especially my mother who took special care of Frank and Cenie next door and Mrs. B on the other side. I didn’t have the same inclinations, focusing more on my life and friends, but that example now informs my current efforts to provide some service to my friends and neighbors.

What are your silent mountains? Maybe take some time now to contemplate them and pay a little homage.

Old Capitol, Iowa City Family Photo, All Rights Reserved

Old Capitol, Iowa City
Family Photo, All Rights Reserved