Unexpected Rewards

     A huge package arrived at my doorstep yesterday. It came from  Williams Sonoma. I know little about this store except it is very expensive and exclusive and I could not imagine who would be sending me an enormous gift from such a place.
     I put the box on the counter and went back to work. I had called Comer, our elderly friend at the Nursing Home earlier in the week to suggest a Christmas Lights outing. I thought his wife Evelyn, even with Alzheimers eating away at her brain, would enjoy looking for homes covered with Christmas decorations. I had already put two Christmas music CDs in the car, knowing that Evelyn might not speak, but she would sing.
     "Hello," croaked Comer, answering the phone.
     "Comer! You don't sound so good."
     "I feel awful. Thought I was going to die."
     "Oh dear! I am so sorry! What is it?"
    "Feels like some flu, or bad sinus infection.I haven't left my bed in three days."
"Oh my! Well I was calling to invite you out to look at Christmas lights this week...but maybe we should wait til next week?"
"Yes, I couldn't go anywhere this week. I feel too poorly. I am getting better. I should be fine by next week."
"I know in the past Evelyn doesn't do well at night. Do you think she would be ok if we go out in the evening but we will go as soon as the sun sets?" Evelyn, like many people afflicted with Alzheimers, would sometimes become agitated at night. At least she used to. Since moving to the new facility where Comer was just down the hall, she had been doing much better emotionally.
"Oh, I don't know. You know she never speaks at all anymore. Still sings though."
"Well I have lots of Christmas music for her to sing. Listen, why don't you check with her nurse and let me know? We could go next week if you are feeling better."
"Oh, I am sure I will be," he said.
"Well then you rest, and I will call you next week. We will get yummy food and hot chocolate and go find beautiful homes dressed up for Christmas."
"Thank you darling," he said, his voice gravelly and strained.
     I hung up and returned to my computer woes. I had developed a GoogleGroup list for the Homeschool Ski Club I was forming, and already there were problems. Half the people had not received the invitation to join the Google Group, which meant I had to go back to my inbox, find every one who had written but not joined the group and then try to find another way to add them to the Group. I had been at it for hours.
     Volunteer work just doesn't pay, I thought. I glanced at the huge Sonoma Williams box. What could that be, and who had sent it? I didn't want to spoil a Christmas surprise by opening the card, but curiosity was overcoming my hesitance. I put it under the tree and my forehead grazed the sparkling Crystal Squirrel ornament. It spun on a silver thread, little blue gems in the eyes shimmery points of color. Every year, Asherel and I go out to look for one crystal ornament to add to our tree. My tree is decorated in all crystal clear onrnaments and white lights. It is very elegant. My mom had a tree like that, and I loved the simple elegance of it, so continued that tradition in our own home. Asherel and I usually take quite a while to agree on the yearly ornament, but as soon as we saw the squirrel, we both knew this was the one we wanted.
     "It reminds me of Squirrel Nutkin!" I said happily. Nutkin was a baby squirrel that had fallen from a tree in our yard a few years ago, rescued by Lucky from the freezing rain, and then restored to health by us. Ultimately, since he was only 6 weeks old when we saved him, we brought him to a rehab specialist who released him safely to the wild when he was fully grown. Asherel and I had loved our few weeks nursing the little baby who had almost died back to health.
     "Yes, let's get that one," said Asherel.
     I smiled at my little squirrel ornament and the happy memories it evoked.Then I sobered as I looked back at the computer and rubbed my wrist.The tendonitis from all my computer work was flaring and every word I typed hurt. But I had to fix the issues with the skiing google group. I had volunteered, and like it or not, I had to follow through now. I glanced at the mysterious package under the slowly swinging crystal squirrel. I could stand the suspense no longer. I opened the card on the giant expensively wrapped box.
     "Thank you for your kindness to my parents," the card said. It was from Comer and Evelyn's daughter.

Luke 14:

¹³ But when you give a banquet, invite the poor, the crippled, the lame, the blind, ¹⁴ and you will be blessed. Although they cannot repay you, you will be repaid at the resurrection of the righteous.”
¹⁵ When one of those at the table with him heard this, he said to Jesus, “Blessed is the one who will eat at the feast in the kingdom of God.”

Reward at the end of the tunnel

"We are going back to kindergarten," said Polly, our beloved agility trainer. Since Honeybun had gotten a few faults at the last agility trial by running right by the tunnels, and not through them, Polly told us we needed to show her that going through the tunnel would be well worth the effort.

Asherel loaded a little plate with steak, and Polly set it at the end of the tunnel.
"Now bring her here," Polly said, "Be sure she sees the reward."
Honeybun got a sniff of that steak and was standing up on her hind legs lunging for it.
"Now take her right by the entrance of the tunnel and send her," Polly said.
Honeybun didn't have to be asked twice. As soon as the leash came off, she shot through the tunnel, a blazing golden bullet.
"Do it again, but bring her a little further back."
Each time, Asherel started Honeybun further back, and finally put a jump in between her start and the tunnel. And unfailingly, Honeybun raced over the jump and like a cheetah was on her tail through the tunnel to the sumptuous reward.
"Problem solved," I laughed.

My boy is in a bit of a tunnel these days. Law school was a ton of work, but he survived his first year well. Now he is working day and night on his entry for Law Review, which is what all aspiring attorneys want to be accepted in but it is fiercely competitive. And in the midst of all this, he is trying to find a summer legal internship, preferably paid which very few first year law students can hope to secure. Thus far he has had little luck. He is getting married in July, and I think all these stressors are beginning to take their toll. He is probably thinking like Honeybun had been before our session, "Perhaps I should just avoid the tunnel altogether."

In agility trials, the tunnel is quite long, and often curved so that the entry angle is not always on an obvious line from the last obstacle. While in the dark tunnel, the dog can't see the end due to the twists and curves. She must run through it because she has been taught to expect that her master will be waiting at the other end, and she will be lavishly rewarded when she finishes her run.

Life is not unlike an agility tunnel. Sometimes the right way to go is not easily apparent. And then sometimes we enter a stretch of dark, curving, twisted events and it takes all our courage to keep moving forward. Sometimes the tunnel doesn't seem worth all that effort, all that angst. We can't see the Master, and we just have to trust He is always there just on the other side of the wall that separates us....or that He will still be there when we come out on the other side....
If we do manage to make it all the way through, we hope to find a reward that assures us all that struggle was worth it if we hope to dare navigate another tunnel. And there is always another tunnel.......

I wish I could find an easy solution for my beloved boy, something so simple as putting a plate of sirloin at the end of his tunnel. But in this case, I am not the Master, and I can't help him. I am in a bit of a tunnel myself, the tunnel of trust and faith that his Master is indeed there, waiting, and the reward will be there if he perseveres.

All God's heroes reached periods of despair. Even Jesus cried out, "If it be possible, take this cup from my hand!"  No one enters hardship without struggle. God gave us tears for a reason. There is no shame in despair....only in letting it lead to giving up. Sometimes the reward comes immediately at the end of the tunnel, and sometimes not til the agility class is over.... and sometimes the reward is not sirloin, but just a pat on the back saying, "Well done. You did your best, and nothing more can be asked of anyone."

But if any one of you knows a lawyer looking for a summer intern, a really smart, sweet, and able young man could use a reward waiting at the end of the tunnel.

Revelation 2:2
² I know your deeds, your hard work and your perseverance. I know that you cannot tolerate wicked people, that you have tested those who claim to be apostles but are not, and have found them false. ³ You have persevered and have endured hardships for my name, and have not grown weary.

The Harvest

It is almost apple picking time. The fall is my favorite season, I think. Perhaps that is just because it is the season of life I am in. But I love the whole wonder and symbol of gathering the harvest. The slight chill in the air, the corn as high as an elephant's eye, the poisonous snakes all taking their venom off to a long winter's nap....

It is a season of expectation and realization. That apple has been slowly maturing all summer, growing bigger and juicier and more vibrantly colored. The first bite into its ripened flesh might crunch into succulent firm and sweet deliciousness, or it might unwittingly dissect a worm and taste bitter and rotten. You can't always tell from the outside. I know from personal experience that there is little as horrifying as taking that first bite, and seeing half a worm among your teeth marks.

I am at the age of the harvest. My children, those little apples of my eye, are almost ripe. The world is ready to bite into them, and it still remains to be seen if they are full of sweetness and the fruit of God's spirit within.... or not. Matt had his official first day of Law School yesterday. He called me after his first class, brimming over with joy and excitement. He said the professor was fantastic, the material riveting and he felt confident he could do this. And he thanked me for my help with the wedding plans. I am pretty sure this ripening apple is a good one.

Sometimes the message God sends me in the morning is simple. It is just one of gratitude and joy. Be thankful, for the harvest is good.

Psalm 85:11-13 (New International Version)

¹¹ Faithfulness springs forth from the earth,
and righteousness looks down from heaven.

¹² The LORD will indeed give what is good,
and our land will yield its harvest.

¹³ Righteousness goes before him
and prepares the way for his steps.