Good Enough

     Skiing all day in the beautiful cold definitely wiped us out. Asherel and I looked and felt like zombies the next day. And it was a full day we had to tackle the following day. I love skiing but it is probably a good thing the season is short. I am like the walking dead the next day.  This is often the case with bliss. It is followed by crash.

     On the plus side,the mountain cold was exchanged for 64 degree sunshine. I stepped outside in the morning and felt like dancing. There is something about warmth after frigid cold that makes me throw all caution to the wind and do a jig beneath the clouds. And it was particularly welcome since we had trebuchet practice which must be done outdoors.

     For those of you that haven't followed my blog every day for the past two years, first of all, why not? Secondly, the trebuchet is one of the Science Olympiad events I coach. A trebuchet is like a catapult which flings objects through the use of a counterweight pulling a pivoting arm.

We had altered our trebuchet a little, and at the lowest counterweight, it was no longer flinging projectiles at all. It would anemically swing the pivoting arm, and the projectile would plop out of the sling 2 inches in front of the treb, or even and most frustratingly, fling backwards. So we set up in the lovely warm sunshine, and videotaped the fling in action to try to figure out why it was no longer working.

     After much top secret tinkering and adjusting and highly educated winging it and guessing, we finally got it to fling 2 meters.

     "How far should it fling?" asked Ben.

     "I don't know...probably a lot more."

     "It's funny how we are so excited about just 2 meters," he said.

     I thought about that. It probably needed to shoot 3 or 4 times that far, but after all we could do for an hour was shoot backwards, 2 meters felt like a gift wrapped in chocolate. Failure seems to be a critical element in savoring success. Even just modest success. Even dismal success. Forward is better than backward.

     When the Israelites escaped out of slavery in Egypt, even the little they had had in Egypt seemed abundant in the deprivation of their desert wandering. They grumbled that they would all die in the desert subsisting on just the manna God provided. They longed for the leeks and onions of their now bucolic memories of abundant life as slaves.  Their eyes were on what they didn't have, not on what they had. That of course bred discontent.

     "How'd it go?" asked Ben's mom later.

     "Well, it went forward, and so we quit for the day," I told her, "Sometimes good enough is, well, good enough."

Chronicles 20:12

Our God, will you not judge them? For we have no power to face this vast army that is attacking us. We do not know what to do, but our eyes are on you”

Keeping us Humble

Honeybun stood at the start line, glanced at Asherel when the buzzer to go went off, ignored Asherel's pleas to come run the course in front of all the eager onlookers, and then trotted to the exit. The buzzer discharging the champion and her befuddled owner buzzed, and that class for them, came to a whimpering end without even starting.

We don't know what got into Honeybun yesterday. She has never done anything like that before. As good as she was Saturday, she was equally bad Sunday. None of the other classes were quite as awful as that one, but none were good. I don't know if it was over-consumption of hotdogs Saturday, the approaching Tropical Storm Lee, or the recent discouraging economic forecasts. Whatever it was, our dog acted like she had never had an agility lesson in her life.

And sometimes, that is how life goes. Parents experience similar frustration every day. We tell our kids a thousand times the same character building advice, and they still seem to struggle as though it had never been addressed. Rooms go unclean, attitudes go sour, lessons go undone, computers stay on long past bedtime...etc.  The list is endless, and I don't know a single parent that doesn't scratch their head sometimes and wonder why their kid is staying stuck behind the starting line on this one, when we know we have fully trained them to run the course perfectly.

Last night I had a dream that I was at the beach, gazing out at the ocean with Asherel when a giant bulldozer appeared. It began literally ripping the sand out from under us, slowly pulling the beach right from under our feet like a giant carpet. We began to run, to try to find higher ground and a place of safety. I had warned Asherel before we went to the beach to have her phone (for the thousandth time) in case of emergency. As we ran to safety, I turned around and she was gone. I couldn't find her... and I remembered that she had told me she had forgotten her phone. I had no way to reach her, the ocean was thrashing across the now sandless beach and my daughter was gone. I awoke crying out in anguish.

We can only do so much. Sometimes the dog just doesn't feel like running the course. Sometimes all that is left is prayer and gentle appeal. Good things can come of it. Such humbling episodes tend to make us reassess, reevaluate, and sometimes chart a better course. Sometimes those wake-up calls are just what we need from a loving God, though they never feel loving at the time. I sure don't love failure, but no good parent allows failure without helping the child determine how to avoid it in the future. God is the best parent. He never lets us hang out at the start line, and not dare to enter the race, not attempt our best shot.

When we got home, Honeybun crawled onto the couch and was asleep in seconds. Rest up, little dog, I thought, because after a day of rest, we are in for some rigorous training.

Hebrews 5: 11-12
 ¹¹ We have much to say about this, but it is hard to make it clear to you because you no longer try to understand. ¹² In fact, though by this time you ought to be teachers, you need someone to teach you the elementary truths of God’s word all over again. You need milk, not solid food!

Futility

So I lied. I wasn't done with the wedding painting like I proclaimed a mere two days ago. I kept looking at the painting of my son and his soon to be wife, and I couldn't stand it any more. I know I insisted I was done, but it just doesn't quite look right. I had to go in and change it....again.

"Your soul sucking painting?" Amy asked me later when I called to see how she was recuperating from her nasty bout of pancreatitis.
"Yes, that one."
"Send me just Matt's head and let me see if I can help," asked Amy.
So I sent her Matt's head, not on a platter, but on gmail.

She sent back a photoshopped correction of what she felt was wrong. She lengthened the nose, dipped the upper lip, and squared the chin....the very changes Asherel told me to paint out last week. I am beginning to feel like a yo yo.

I even incorporated math into the process. I measured the distance between all Matt's features and then set up a ratio/algebraic equation to discern if my painting ratios matched. I found one measurement off by 1 cm., corrected that, and felt it did help. I may not be much of an artist, but I was pretty self-impressed by my math skills.

If I had another year....I think I could do it. But I only have two days. Then we are off to a Beatles tribute concert and then to go take care of recuperating sister Amy. Then it is wedding time.

Now I wish I hadn't made fun of all those portrait artists that use projectors to trace their subjects from a photo. At this point, I would be sorely tempted to cheat that way. It's like how I chastised my mom for all those years for dying her hair. Now that I am old and grey....if I hadn't made so much sport of her maybe I would become a blond and see if I had more fun. Smugness has a way of rebounding onto oneself.

And I must say, I have a whole new respect for God's skill in making each of us look exactly the way we are supposed to. It is much harder than you would think.

Karissa, the lovely bride to be, is nothing but grace and kindness. They will love the painting, she writes, because it was made by me. It is very sweet of her, and I almost want to paint a mustache on both of them just to see how far that sentiment could survive.

"Does it look like Matt?" I asked husband, Arvo.
"Do you have a picture of him?" he asked.
I didn't say what was in my mind, which was, "It is your son....remember him?"
I showed him a picture, which he scrutinized. He gave some good and thankfully simple advice. I agreed with those observations, mostly because I could do them without totally repainting any feature. I have noticed that my receptivity to any advice on the painting is in direct proportion to how easily I can incorporate the changes.

I have reached this point of total frustration in my art many times. Sometimes, I let the bitter defeatism take over and I take a glob of black paint and paint over my struggle with frantic, vicious strokes.( This might be that "lack of maturity" the art gallery owner who rejected my work was referring to.) I have had to leave the room to prevent this from happening to this year long labor of love. Funny how anyone looking at the final result would never suspect it took me a year to get even this far. They can't see the layers and layers and layers of failure underneath the current layer.

Again, I knew God was painting me a message. To many people, I think I appear to be at least on the fringe of respectable normalcy. I mostly can get through each day without causing too much damage to myself or others. But there are layers and layers and layers of failure underneath the surface....and the surface is still not what it should be.

I guess if it were, I wouldn't recognize my need for God. Perhaps all that failure is a blessing. Success never seems to bring me quite so desperately to His side, begging Him to take my brush and guide my hand.

Two days aren't enough....but it is all I have. So I better stop writing and make the most of my time.

Job 7:3
³ so I have been allotted months of futility,
   and nights of misery have been assigned to me.

Daniel 12:13
  ¹³ “As for you, go your way till the end. You will rest, and then at the end of the days you will rise to receive your allotted inheritance.”

Better than Trophies

I am an animal lover so rest assured that though the picture indicates we flung a cat in our cat-apult (trebuchet), we did not. I will not tell you what I wanted to fling due to the young audience and tender ears that might be within shouting distance of this blog. I will say in calmly, carefully measured tones that when Science Olympiad ends, if I never see another trebuchet or model helicopter in my entire life, it will be too soon.......

We went to collect more data on our trebuchet which was not flinging far, but it was flinging accurately. We knew we could not win, flinging approximately half as far (on a good day) as past winners.... but we hoped to lose with style. That hope flew away further than the projectiles our treb was supposed to be flinging when the release pin of our sling broke off. I had known that would happen at some point. I had just hoped it would happen after the competition was over. I don't care if dust and moths corrupt once I am done with the thing.....

The good thing was that I could now impress upon the kids why the idea for the sling release I had had earlier might be a wise way to go. Since we had to come up with something.....fast....... they agreed to try it. It is top secret, in case it works, although with 3 weeks to go til the contest, one would hope our sentences were not so littered with words like "if it works."  Besides the ominous doom and gloom message of the release pin breaking.... the sling was suddenly tangling and not slinging at all. And Josh, our partner was recovering from either the flu or Valentinitis, which is the disease resulting from inhaling 3 pounds of candy in less than 10 minutes.  We have never worked so dispiritedly for so many hours straight. They smiled....but weakly.

"It is all about the journey," my sister Holly said.
"Yes, it is," I agreed, "The journey has been Hell."

Now this is not entirely true. There have been brief moments of success and we went from knowing nothing to knowing a few things. And we met 3 delightful fellow homeschool students that have developed into fun and happy friendships. On occasion, the devices we constructed have worked, and may surprise us and work in the contest. But if they don't..... I need to start preparing my speech so the kids go away feeling it has all been worth it. Because it has....hasn't it?

When a friend of mine was diagnosed with breast cancer and would be going in for a double mastectomy, I asked what I could do for her. She said she would like a painting with the following verse on it:
Habakkuk 3: 17-18
¹⁷ Though the fig tree does not bud
   and there are no grapes on the vines,
though the olive crop fails
   and the fields produce no food,
though there are no sheep in the pen
   and no cattle in the stalls,
¹⁸ yet I will rejoice in the LORD,
   I will be joyful in God my Savior.

When all the blessings and good things don't flow our way, when frustrations and calamities mount, when it seems that the sun has forgotten there is this little corner of the world where it should be shining..... that is when it is hardest to find the joy, to find the rejoicing. And yet, it is then and only then when faith is truly put to the test. If God can be Lord of your life in the trenches, He can be Lord of your life anywhere. And if He is Lord, and His promises are true, then in the end, "I will see God."(Job:19:26)

Unfortunately, these kids will probably experience greater frustrations and setbacks some day than catapults that couldn't fling a cat even if they wanted to, or helicopters that consistently don't fly. If Science Olympiad has taught me one overriding lesson, it has been that sometimes things don't go as planned even when we put forth our best effort. Sometimes despite giving our all, we fail.  But that doesn't mean it wasn't worth the effort. No matter how hard we fight it, someday every one of us will die. That doesn't mean that in the interim, we shouldn't live.

To emerge from failure and still be smiling, still be rejoicing, still be looking for the spring in the dead of winter.... that is the lesson I think we may be steering towards. And in the end, it will probably serve us better than a trophy anyway.

1 Thessalonians 1: 2-10
² We always thank God for all of you and continually mention you in our prayers. ³ We remember before our God and Father your work produced by faith, your labor prompted by love, and your endurance inspired by hope in our Lord Jesus Christ.  ⁴ For we know, brothers and sisters^[b] loved by God, that he has chosen you, ⁵ because our gospel came to you not simply with words but also with power, with the Holy Spirit and deep conviction. You know how we lived among you for your sake. ⁶ You became imitators of us and of the Lord, for you welcomed the message in the midst of severe suffering with the joy given by the Holy Spirit. ⁷ And so you became a model to all the believers in Macedonia and Achaia. ⁸ The Lord’s message rang out from you not only in Macedonia and Achaia—your faith in God has become known everywhere. Therefore we do not need to say anything about it, ⁹ for they themselves report what kind of reception you gave us. They tell how you turned to God from idols to serve the living and true God, ¹⁰ and to wait for his Son from heaven, whom he raised from the dead—Jesus, who rescues us from the coming wrath.

A Stellar Day of Learning

Asherel received her first dividend from her share of Disney stock. As she ripped open the envelope, I am sure she was thinking of all the amazing things she could now purchase. Only age 13 and an official investor! Would she get the iPhone she had been salivating for? Or maybe a trip to England to walk on the very ground the Beatles themselves had trod. She pulled out the dividend check.

40 cents. The check was for 40 cents.

It had cost more than that to mail it! And along with the check were all kinds of graphs and charts outlining how her stock was generating such amazing revenue for her.

Later we went to test our latest helicopters. All three broke. Now we have no working helicopter for Science Olympiad. And I have developed a nasty chest cold. I felt like taking that 40 cents and hopping on a plane as far as it would take me. How far can you fly on 40 cents?

I would research that myself but our computer broke.
Yesterday.
Right before we went to test and break three helicopters.
When I realized I felt sick enough to consider the possibility of pneumonia.
After the bonanza of 40 cents to offset all those disappointments.

We all have days like that and i always exaggerate to make my points. But even without exaggerating, I think it is safe to say yesterday will not get a smiley face on the calendar.

Asherel is worn out building things and trying to keep up with a hectic school and extracurricular schedule and I am sick, probably from accompanying her on that hectic schedule. It is sometimes difficult to persevere when the things going wrong begin to pile up.

As I was sketching a forest yesterday, I noticed how dark, and empty the tree limbs were. The scene could have been gloomy except the sun poked through, laying spatters of golden light on the trunks and forest floor.
"It's Not so gloomy! " I thought.
And if we learn most from our failures, then it was a stellar day of learning.

Isaiah 29:18 NIV

In that day the deaf will hear the words of the scroll,
and out of gloom and darkness
the eyes of the blind will see.

Published with Blogger-droid v1.6.5