Asking Permission

     "Ma'am, do you have a license to fly in the mall?" the security officer asked, his hand on his walkie talkie, in case these dangerous 14 year olds decided to bolt.
     The kids held their helicopters and looked down, allowing their fearless coach to deal with this unexpected bump in the road to Science Olympiad success. Could we go to jail for unauthorized rubber powered helicopter flying in the mall?
     "No," I said.
     "I am afraid I am going to have to shut you down," he said, self importantly, puffing out his blue chest. It was like we were going to have to be shutting down a nuclear reactor the way he said it, rather than just opening a cardboard box and putting the 4 gram copters away.
     "I did ask permission," I added. I did not add that I had asked permission last year, "And no one ever got back to me. I left several messages."
That was true, and in reality, I was miffed that my request hadn't even been acknowledged.
     Next I employed the very best tactic when one wants to appear like one is confident and in control of the situation. One sucks up to the person who is really in charge.
     "Do you have a name and number of someone that might return my calls? I understand you are just doing your job. We just hoped that since the mall didn't open til 10 it would be ok to be here."
     "Well the mall gets a little funny about flying things while people are near. It could cause problems, you know."
     Like what, for crying out loud? These are 4 gram helicopters of soft balsa with rubber band motors. I didn't say that, but I thought it.
    "So who can I ask?"
     "Well. I can ask Tina for you, she's in charge, but I am pretty sure it won't be allowed."
     "Tina! That is the person who never returned my calls! Can I leave you my cell number and have her call me?"
     The kids were quietly packing up our dangerous helicopters, disappointed, as we have yet to have a whole lot of success in our flight practices.  We can practice in a nearby church, but only at limited times since they are so heavily used and they also don't want helicopters buzzing on parishioners heads. We need tall ceilings, like 3 or 4 stories tall, with no obstructions that could trap our copters. It has been nearly impossible to find this. We had hoped we could sneak in the mall during mall walking time before the stores open, but now that door was slammed in our criminal faces.
     Asking permission is at times a real drag on life. The word permission only occurs 12 times in the Bible, and so I can only conclude that asking permission is not a heavenly priority. In fact, in 11 of the 12 cases, it is someone (usually a righteous Godly one) asking permission of some tyrant who is in charge. The only example of permission being granted by a righteous ruler is when the demons who inhabited a man asked Jesus if they could be granted permission to instead inhabit a herd of pigs. Jesus grants them permission and then the pigs all race to a cliff edge, plunge over, and die. I have never understood that story. Were the demons making the pigs jump to their death? Were the pigs trying to escape the demons? And why on earth did the demons want to inhabit the pigs in the first place? Since I can't answer any of those questions, I will focus on the authority aspect of the whole thing. The demons got that part right.
     The only one with real authority is God, and yet how often do I ask Him permission to do anything? Most of the time, I just do it, and hope He approves. Maybe if I asked more frequently, life would proceed more smoothly. I suspect He is often shaking His head and telling the angels, "I am afraid you need to go in there again and shut her down."
     The angels then shake their heads, their halos tipping back and forth sadly, "You would think by now she would learn. She is so impulsive. Shall we send her into the herd of pigs?"
     "Now, now, Angelic host, let's see if we can bring her along more gently for now."
     "Sigh. OK, Lord, she's your creation. Let's go bail her out, sisters...."
     The next morning, I wrote to the church to ask permission to fly our copters.

Mark 5: 12-13
¹² The demons begged Jesus, “Send us among the pigs; allow us to go into them.” ¹³ He gave them permission, and the impure spirits came out and went into the pigs. The herd, about two thousand in number, rushed down the steep bank into the lake and were drowned.
    

Finishing Well

It is finished.

The NC State Science Olympiad is over, medals awarded to the top 10 teams since there was a college arena filled with teams (Asherel 's helicopter team placed 6th, and her Trebuchet team a surprising 5th).  Their devices didn't do the best they could do, but they didn't do the worst either, and for her first state competition, she is pleased. I am tired. But I am less tired from the wonderful, early rising, long and activity packed day than from the phone call I received the first night we were in Raleigh for the contest.

"Hi Vicky, Lucky is in the front yard. Are you or Arvo home?"
"No....we are in Raleigh. Would you do me a favor Andi and just shoot him? Preferably murder him on the first shot, right between his conniving, perpetually scheming eyeballs?"
This is only what I was thinking.... it is not what I actually said. And actually, I was thinking things much much worse. If this is "man's best friend" then I sure don't want to meet "man's best enemy".
Lucky of  course has a long and devious history of escaping out of our barricaded backyard, despite its fence,  3 foot of chicken wire on top of fence, obstacles at base of fence, electric shock collar, and trained snipers on the roof.

We had no choice but to call the dog sitter and tell her to put Lucky in the crate while we were gone. The crate is not a live-in crate... it is just big enough to sleep in. I felt bad but I had no choice. At least it kept my anxiety diffused around several areas other than how my helicopter and trebuchet team were going to do. And just in case my stress level were not rising to the top of the thermometer, Asherel had developed an unexplained limp, hot red spot near her ankle, and no explanation for the pain. This happened a couple of years ago, and our 6 hour visit to the ER revealed only one thing- that she has small rolling veins that are impossible to get an IV into without agony and hundreds of unsuccessful attempts. In the end, an orthopedist felt she must have broken a growth plate, and told her to stay off it til it felt better.

My food poisoning the day before we left was nothing compared to my worries over what her ailment might be. I knew that just because 3 of 5 of my siblings had had appendicitis, that was likely not the cause of my excruciating stomach pain. More likely it was the result of my cooking and the only surprise was that it didn't occur daily. But Asherel's limp and pain was troublesome.

So I watched her closely, and asked every few minutes how her ankle was doing. She stayed off it for the day before the contest, and wore an ankle brace Friday. By Saturday, the pain and redness was gone. I don't know what it was, but again am grateful that my full panic could be unleashed gradually over such a wide variety of concerns.

But now, the year of Science Olympiad is over. I could in all honesty clap delightedly for the State winners who would go on to Nationals. I  was happy to let that one pass us by, so I could focus on how to best throttle my dog when we got home.

Endings are sad, but they are good too. I can't think of a verse more fraught with conflicting emotions than Jesus as He released His spirit to death on the cross, as He cried, "It is finished!"  All those watching who loved Him felt immeasurable grief. But He did what He came to earth to do and He did it perfectly. There was rejoicing in Heaven and ultimately in all of us when the full import of what He had done became known. If there had been any ribbons awarded at that event, He would have gotten the blue.

John 19:29-31

²⁹ A jar of wine vinegar was there, so they soaked a sponge in it, put the sponge on a stalk of the hyssop plant, and lifted it to Jesus’ lips. ³⁰ When he had received the drink, Jesus said, “It is finished.” With that, he bowed his head and gave up his spirit.

2 Timothy 4:7
I have fought the good fight, I have finished the race, I have kept the faith.

Fiery Ordeals

One side of mouth:
"It has been a long time of a lot of work. I will be glad when it is over."
Other side of mouth:
"I'm sad it is ending."

These two statements came barely 24 hours apart, from the same 13 year old daughter over the same Science Olympiad work that ends this weekend with the State competition. Despair and delight. They are sometimes kissing cousins.


"I thought you were glad it is ending. I thought you were weary of all the work," I said.
"Well I am, but I will miss it too."
"We will make a point of seeing all your friends over the summer. We can take them kayaking."
She nodded.

But it isn't the same, even something as wonderful as kayaking. It is not the same as struggling together through what seem like insurmountable problems in areas  in which one has no knowledge or experience. It isn't the same, even something so beautiful and relaxing as kayaking through a shady inlet, as watching helicopter after helicopter smash to smithereens and stretching one's brain to understand how the design should be altered in an area that a few months ago, that brain would not have dared to travel. It isn't the same as being a team member, rebuilding a flinging machine week after week with hopes that the projectile will be flung forwards, not backwards....and then finally achieving success only to have the flinging arm break.

It isn't the same, peacefully lounging in the sun with the waves lapping against the hull, as crying one's eyes out because after 5 hours of painstaking work, the fragile structure breaks, and one must begin all over again. It isn't the same, exploring sun dappled coves with fragrant red flowers never seen before lining the shore while the kayak dips and bobs on gentle swells backwashed from the encounter with land, as lifting one's hand to release something you have crafted together and watching it soar to the peak of a glass ceiling where clouds and hawks circle just beyond. It isn't the same as firing a trebuchet, a word that was unknown to you just 9 months ago, a trebuchet you designed and built together and managed to erect without losing a single important body part, and then watching that trebuchet finally fling the projectile the full length of the driveway.

Resting from work is good....but it isn't the same as working beyond what you ever dreamed you could do, bearing struggles you felt were going to kill you, and coming out on the other side victorious.

Our Bible study was from 1 Peter 4. We spent the whole time discussing why the term "fiery ordeal" was used to describe the trials we should expect in our life walking with God. Why not just a less frightening term like "difficulties" or "struggles"? Who wants to know ahead of time that it will be a "fiery ordeal?" Given the choice, which of us would say wholeheartedly, "Send me into the furnace and burn me alive that I might emerge (if I emerge) stronger and purer?" I honestly believe I love God, however imperfectly, but personally, I think I could do without that fiery ordeal.

But to a small degree, that is what my Science Olympiad teams endured. It wasn't their health that was enduring anguish, but their time, their energy, their ability to persevere in a task that seemed impossible to accomplish, their working together withholding blame and acrimony when things went badly, and being generous in their praise and encouragement to the other when things went well. They may not have been vocally proclaiming Christ and suffering for their faith, but they were proclaiming him in character, as they struggled together through some very frustrating and desperate moments together. It would have been easy to give up, to scream, to be ugly and unkind....but they never were. All this for a 13 year old is a fiery ordeal of sorts. And now they are out of the furnace, and how funny that they will miss the heat.

1 Peter 4: 11-13
 ¹² Dear friends, do not be surprised at the fiery ordeal that has come on you to test you, as though something strange were happening to you. ¹³ But rejoice inasmuch as you participate in the sufferings of Christ, so that you may be overjoyed when his glory is revealed.

Reaching for the Moon

"If you're wrong, do we get a cookie?" asked my helicopter team, weary of testing yet another rubber motor for yet another helicopter.
If only all I lost every time I was wrong was a cookie, I think I'd be more willing to be wrong. But if cookies were to be the motivation for my helicopter team to finish strong in the race to Science Olympiad gold, so be it. I thought about giving some sort of motivational speech, but decided cookies were easier to hand out than words at that point. The State Science Olympiad contest this weekend could not come a moment too soon. If it arrives after the sugar high wears off, we are doomed. We all want to win, but it has been a long season with many long hours and even perfectionists lose steam.

I reach for the moon alot. One who reaches for the moon is bound to come away at times empty handed. This is not in the Bible, but it should be.

I was very sad to read that NASA has informed its already depleted astronaut staff that the chance of them going on any more outer space flights to the moon is "slim to nil."  A paltry few will be allowed to tag along on the Russian shuttles to the International Space station, but the future of any shuttle program here is dim. What will happen to all the young boys and girls who want to grow up to be astronauts? What happens to their dreams?

We are reading about the incredible era in US history when President Kennedy who was elected because he was by  far the most handsome man in the race, challenged us to have a man on the moon before the Communists. This is because the entire Western world was fearful of the Outer Space Domino effect, which meant that if the moon became communistic, one by one other heavenly bodies would topple to that form of government, and eventually, the sun itself would have to be addressed as "Citizen Sun Comrade." Subsequently, the daylight hours would have to be evenly distributed equally to every single inch of  land on Earth. This of course would require that the earth be unrolled since it would be physically impossible for a sphere to have an equal allotment of Citizen Sun. This would have cataclysmic repercussions, not the least of which Columbus would be wrong, the world would indeed be flat, and all our geography books would need to be revised. Thus, President Kennedy, being an excellent motivator, besides being handsome, urged us to "Hie thee to the moon!" pronto.

Our nation's eager and intellectually gifted children complied, took their science class a little more seriously, and in the end prevented the entire universe from being engulfed behind the Iron Curtain, planting a US flag on lunar soil first. At that time, we collectively reached for the moon and grasped it. Sometimes I wonder if our nation is worn out, tired of being a beacon of hard working, sensible, reasonable, altruistic, and noble aspirations. I think we may all be crumbling into a bunch of whiners who just want a cookie.

This is not to imply that my helicopter team is whiney. They are weary, but they worked their patooties off for 3 hours on Easter Sunday reaching for the moon....and for cookies.

Deuteronomy 33: 13-15
  “May the LORD bless his land
   with the precious dew from heaven above
   and with the deep waters that lie below;
¹⁴ with the best the sun brings forth
   and the finest the moon can yield;
¹⁵ with the choicest gifts of the ancient mountains
   and the fruitfulness of the everlasting hills;

The Search for Meaning

We got bumped by a funeral. Our last helicopter testing before the Science Olympiad next weekend was to be at the church with the ceilings that stretch 5 stories high towards heaven. However, the pastor hoped I would understand that the unexpected funeral took precedence over our helicopter flying. They would need the church to conduct the services.

As Ben, the other helicopter team member, had been sick for our penultimate test flight, his helicopter was as yet untested. (For those of you with a dictionary handy, I would encourage you to look up 'penultimate' if you don't know what it means. It is a very useful word. It is my second favorite word. My favorite is serendipity. Words just don't get any more fun to say than that one. Well, onomatopoeia is pretty delightful as well.)

But- back to the problem at hand. We could not wait til any later than Sunday to test, in case we destroyed our copters, which we do with alarming regularity. We would need time to rebuild them. We had to test this weekend, Easter or not.

I called the local mall. I didn't get through to highest management, though was put through to her voice mail.
"Hello," I said to the machine after it beeped its greeting, "I have a unique form of Easter entertainment for your mall shoppers. I need tall ceilings to test our rubber powered Science Olympiad helicopters and your facility has been selected from among thousands to be our test site. Please call _________ to schedule your exciting and free Helicopter to Heaven program today!"

Surprisingly, they did not call back.

I wrote back to the church with the 5 story tall ceilings.
"We are desperate. We totally understand the necessity of conducting the funeral in lieu of us having a shot at winning the State contest that we have worked a year now towards. What do the hopes and dreams of a child matter, after all, in contrast to the last wishes of a dead body? Nothing. But, would you consider canceling Easter services and we could fly Sunday?"

Ok, I am kidding. I had some of you though, right? I actually asked if after services on Sunday afternoon we could fly in their perfect ceilings. I  find the symbolism rather intriguing- the feeble attempts of mankind lifting towards God with whatever power can be mustered. Our designs would be destined to fall back to earth, no matter how strong the rubber band motor was. We could rise quite a bit on our own power, but to stay risen, one had to be Jesus or lifted in His hand.

"Yes," wrote back the facility manager, "After Easter services, the church will be empty. You can fly your copters then if you like."

I can't wait to hear Asherel's response when she awakens and reads my post today:
"That's a beautiful picture you drew today, Mom, but what does it have to do with your blog?"
"Nothing. Or everything. It depends on what message you got out of it."
"Well, what are my choices? It doesn't seem to be a God packed moral today. In fact, it seems a little selfish and perhaps even sacrilegious. I mean, should we be flying our helicopters on Easter?"
"He is risen," I said, "That is what we celebrate. We should all be looking up, because that is where risen things reside, like Messiahs.... and helicopters. The miracle of Easter is when He rose again, He continued to reach back down, to survey the whole earth, to reach His spirit into every valley and every field, touching the hearts of His sheep."
"You are stretching here, Mom. Besides, there are no sheep in this picture you drew."
"They're lost. That's the point. He took our sin upon Himself and bore our punishment that the lost might be found."
"Well don't you think you should have drawn at least one found sheep?"
"It's only Saturday. I think we need to spend some time wondering where we go to find the lost sheep."
"And I suppose sometimes that involves flying in helicopters?"
"Maybe.... it means going down or through or even up every path opened before you."
"You think there will be lost sheep in the rafters of the church?"
"No, probably not..... but I think there might be someone who wanders in, whose soul is heavy and burdened, and who doesn't feel the gravity of life will ever release him. You never know when you might lighten someone's heart with the Message of Hope, of our Risen Lord."
"Were you really thinking all this when you drew this picture, Mom? Or when you scheduled our helicopter practice for Easter?"
"It doesn't matter," I answered, "I'm thinking it now, aren't you?"

Isaiah 53:5-7

⁵ But he was pierced for our transgressions,
   he was crushed for our iniquities;
the punishment that brought us peace was on him,
   and by his wounds we are healed.
⁶ We all, like sheep, have gone astray,
   each of us has turned to our own way;
and the LORD has laid on him
   the iniquity of us all.
 ⁷ He was oppressed and afflicted,
   yet he did not open his mouth;
he was led like a lamb to the slaughter,
   and as a sheep before its shearers is silent,
   so he did not open his mouth.

Soaring Behind the Iron Curtain

"Hi....I'm sick. I can still go if you want me to. I have a fever and chills...."
An hour before we were to leave for our helicopter testing in the soaring high ceilings of the giant church, Asherel's partner Ben called.
"No Ben, much as I would love to catch whatever nasty bug you have, it is perhaps best you stay home and rest. We'll test Asherel's helicopters today and yours at the church next week."

So Asherel, rather dispiritedly, and I headed to the church with her four helicopters to test. The five story ceilings, made of glass, showed the tornado-watch clouds racing overhead. The church was empty that Saturday afternoon. Just one lone security guard sat watch. He was expecting us, and watched as we set up and sent our first copters soaring to the pinnacle of those exquisite glass peaks.

"Did you buy these?" he asked, as he came to look at the copters more closely. He spoke with a heavy accent. He was an older man, maybe in his sixties.
"No," said Asherel, "I made them."
"By yourself!" he exclaimed, "Can I buy one?"
We explained how in two weeks these copters would be in the State Competition for Science Olympiad.
"May I touch one?" he asked.
"No," I said, "They are really fragile. We only pick them up to fly them."
He understood, but looked a little sad.
"Where are you from?" I asked.
"Siberia."
I glanced at Asherel and said, "We are studying about Siberia in our home school. During the USSR days."
"Yes, that is when I lived there."

In fact, the book we are currently reading is about the facade of freedom and prosperity that the Soviet Union would portray to visitors, but the reality was in sharp contrast to that front. The author was one of the first evangelists to step behind the Iron Curtain. He found a hunger for the Word there, but one that was trampled on by those in power. It was illegal and dangerous to proclaim Jesus behind the Iron Curtain. As we read the book, I wondered if Asherel or even I  could get a true sense of what it really meant to not have freedom- freedom in any sense, but especially freedom to worship God. The book was well written, but it is very hard to relate to something so totally outside our own world of experience.

Asherel was busily lubricating and stretching the rubber motor, so I asked the man, "What brought you to the United States?"
"I came after Perestroika," he answered, "It was hard life to be a believer in Russia."
I looked at Asherel. She was listening.
"It was illegal, wasn't it?" I asked.
"Oh yes. I was watched...followed, by the KGB. I started a radio station that told Christian stories. It was, how you say it, like theater. I wrote stories, and acted out Bible stories, then broadcast them."
"How did you do that?"
"Oh it was all underground."
"What would have happened if you were caught?" I asked.
He laughed mirthlessly and shook his head.
"Would you be shot?"
"Not outright, not most of time. Put in prison. My friend, who worked with me was put in prison. He died in prison. He was ripped apart limb by limb by large dogs."
"So how did you come to believe in Jesus in the first place?"
"It is long story," he said. He went to his guard counter and rolled out the chair so he could sit near. Even Asherel seemed to understand that listening to the long story right now was more important than flying her helicopter.
"My family did not believe," he said, "Especially my father. He said he never give up his vodka!"
I laughed.
"But my mother, she began to see God was real. She began to believe."
"How?" I asked.
"People came, told her about the Bible."
"What would have happened to them if they were caught?"
"Oh they always watching the door. They go to prison if they were caught. But they come, and tell my mother. She try to tell my father, but he say, no, it just nonsense. He not believe. Then one day, he grow suddenly very sick. He clutch his chest, and he pound it to try to make him breathe. His heart stop, his breathing stop. He lay on floor. And he tell us later that he suddenly felt an incredible love start at his head and go down his whole body. He know it is God. And his heart start, and he is fine. He become a Christian. But then, Satan always try to bring doubt. My father start saying it wasn't God. It was just a coincidence."
"Yes," I said, "I often hear that."
"So, it happen again! 3 times it happen. And each time, my father feel that love, his heart start again. And finally he become Christian, and he stay Christian."
He paused and watched as Asherel stood and hooked the motor rubber band onto her helicopter.
"Three miracles," he said.
We'd listened spellbound for half an hour, but now we had to get back to work.
He continued talking while we wound the motor. This is a big no-no since winding the motor is actually precise and difficult. If we don't do it right, we destroy helicopters. I just didn't have the heart to say shush. Not to a man like that.
And when Asherel released the helicopter, it flew straight down and smashed into  pieces. She had wound it the wrong way. It was my fault too. As "holder", I was supposed to check that she was winding properly. I'd been distracted.

The Russian, Asherel, and I looked down at the destroyed helicopter.
"Now you can hold it," I said to the man.

The other copters did supremely well. I can't give any more specifics til after the State contest. I don't want to unwittingly give any information out that might be a  disadvantage to our team. But it was a miraculous day....and I don't mean just the helicopter flights. We sat in the church glass portico, the three of us, watching copter after copter soar 5 stories high, against a shimmering backdrop of sun breaking through rain and clouds racing across the sky in a cosmic Kentucky Derby. Three people from three stages of life- one who had seen oppression, and tyranny, had struggled and overcome in the faith; one who longed that her daughter would understand the blessings of freedom won by others, the miracles of God, and the sacrifice so many faced in living for Him; and one who was still learning to test and trust Heaven.

The helicopter soared, it rotors spinning as it lifted to the sky.

Hebrews 11

 ¹ Now faith is confidence in what we hope for and assurance about what we do not see. ² This is what the ancients were commended for.  ³ By faith we understand that the universe was formed at God’s command, so that what is seen was not made out of what was visible.

Hebrews 12:3-5

³ Consider him who endured such opposition from sinners, so that you will not grow weary and lose heart. ⁴ In your struggle against sin, you have not yet resisted to the point of shedding your blood. ⁵ And have you completely forgotten this word of encouragement that addresses you as a father addresses his son? It says,    “My son, do not make light of the Lord’s discipline,
   and do not lose heart when he rebukes you

Soaring upward on a wing and a prayer

Today we go to the gorgeous pink church, with a ceiling 5 stories high. The ceiling is magnificent, free of rafters or speakers or any impediments to the prayers of the devout below from soaring without encumbrance...or of helicopters doing likewise. The ceiling is taller than trees, with no branches that might rip delicate tissue or snarl hopefully whirling rotors.

"I have an unusual request," I told the head pastor of the largest church in Charlotte.
We sat in a huge magnificently appointed conference room. The conference table could seat 50. Asherel and I sat across from the Pastor and the facilities manager. Our voices echoed in the room.
"We have Science Olympiad helicopters that we think can break the 2 minute barrier..."
The Pastor tilted his head and narrowed an eye.
"Not a real helicopter!" I added quickly,"It is powered by a rubber band. And we need a really tall ceiling to test it adequately. I have always admired your tall ceilings....er, your church."
"Are you sure you don't want me to pray for a loved one or perhaps for your salvation?" (he didn't really say that but I think that was more in line of what he was expecting.)
"Oh, you certainly may if you like, but I am a believer already. I am sure your church is excellent at those functions, and now, I am offering you an opportunity to expand the definition of soaring to heaven."(I didn't really say that either, but isn't it a perfect hypothetical retort to a hypothetical question?)

"Where have you tested in the past?" he asked. (He did really say that because I think he was hoping we might wish to test there again.)
"In a gym," said Asherel, "And it gets stuck and sometimes broken in the rafters."
"Your ceiling has nothing to get stuck on," I added, "We have had to shoot it down in the past."
The pastor cringed.
"With rubber bands!" I said, "There isn't anything we do that would hurt your church." At least not physically....
"Where would you want to do these practice flights?"
"The portico entryway is perfect," I said, "Although the Sanctuary itself has even higher ceilings. Would it be sacrilegious to fly in there?"
He nodded.
"The portico is perfect then."
The pastor looked at the facilities manager.
"They could fly next Friday," he said.
"During the funeral?"
"Oh, no that would not be proper. How about Saturday the 16th?"

So today we will attend the largest church in Charlotte to fly helicopters. But we will be in the right place because we will be praying. We will be praying that it breaks the 2 minute barrier. The state Science Olympiad contest is just two weeks away. I find it very appropriate that our final test flight will be in a church. I suspect it will give us a special anointing that less spiritual helicopter teams won't have.

One of my favorite Bible verses is "I lift my eyes unto the hills, where does my help come from? My help comes from the Lord , the maker of Heaven and Earth."  The best dreams I ever have are of flying. Heaven is always described as above us....as up, up, up. Why? Why do we lift our eyes...why do we want to soar....why do we look up when looking for God?  God is infinite, and all around us. Up is only part of where God resides. All those pilots who have gone as far up as we can go have never reported seeing pearly gates, or even a glimpse of the saints gathered in joyous song.

Maybe it is because when we look up, our eyes are opened as wide as they can go. Try it. You can't look up with squinty eyes. It hurts the muscles. I think God intends for us to acknowledge Him with our hearts and eyes fully open. The evidence for God is all around us but we have to be looking. And today, I will be looking up for we pray at least 120 seconds.

2 Samuel 22:11
¹¹ He mounted the cherubim and flew;
   he soared on the wings of the wind.

Tangles of Life

Our Science Olympiad Helicopter team devised a clever way to retrieve our helicopters when they got stuck in the gym rafters. They tied fishing line to a big fat rubberband. Then Asherel positioned me, with my arms outstretched above my head, one end of the rubber band under my finger nail. She then lay on the floor, pulling the other end of the rubber band as far as she could and carefully aiming.
"Move left Mom! Not that left! The other left! Now forward. Too far! Back. Now don't move."
Then the rubber band would shoot up, twanging past my ear with its line of fishing string trailing, like a harpoon. We found the fishing line critical since we were losing too many rubber bands in the rafters. When they would finally hit the helicopter, they would tug on the fishing line and haul in the catch.

The only difficulty with this ingenious helicopter retrieval system is that no matter how carefully we put away our rubberband harpoon, the line always tangled when we needed it next.We could waste half our practice session untangling the fishing line. Fishing line is one of the most impossible materials to untangle. The only thing more difficult to untangle is life.

I won't share the specifics, but yesterday was one of those tangled life days that looked impossible to untangle. Just when we thought we were beginning to ease the knots a little in some fairly important aspects of our sojourn here on earth,  new undesirable events tugged in just the wrong direction. When I stopped blowing my nose and dabbing at my eyes, all I could see were hopeless, insurmountable tangles.

Our helicopter team discovered there were only two ways to untangle fishing line. The easiest is to just cut away the knot. Sometimes you can lose as much as half the line or more. I usually opt for the 'cut away the knot' method, but the kids have more patience, and something inside them just won't let them snip the errant section off. Instead, while I cross my arms, and tap my toes, and twiddle my fingers against my elbows, they methodically and carefully start at one end, and untie every tangle until we have at least enough line to shoot our rubberband harpoon again.

In the tangles of life, most of the time I can't use method one. It means cutting away my heart, or the equivalent, since it usually involves a loved one. I am stuck with method two. Slowly, laboriously, patiently starting at the first knot and with bloodied fingers, working it free....then moving onto the next.

In the midst of life knot untying yesterday, Asherel asked me to practice guitar with her. I am a horrid guitar player, but I do love it. Asherel is a good teacher and told me to pick a favorite song that I would love to practice. She would help me learn it. I spent a couple of days thinking about it. And then I told her I would like to learn "Eidelweiss".  I really didn't feel like leaving the tangled knots of life I was working on, even to practice Eidelweiss, but Asherel begged me. So I settled next to my dear daughter who finger plucked the melody while I strummed the chords and sang. My voice cackles and cracks more than it used to when my dad and I would belt it out on our Sunday drives. I have to strain to reach the high notes.... but some of the sadness of the day did melt away as I sang and made music with my girl.

The song is a simple one. It has a sweet simple melody and easy chords. It is about a flower. The Eidelweiss plant originated on the harsh steppes of Asia. It was able to survive there because of deep, fibrous roots, and also a felt like covering on its leaves. The deep roots help it to cling to the soil through the harsh winds of the steppes, and the covering of the leaves prevents scorching from the often brutal sun. In the movie, The Sound of Music, the song Eidelweiss becomes the anthem of freedom, love of homeland and family, the strength to persevere in the face of impossible circumstances.

"Can we videotape this song of you and me singing?" I asked Asherel. The girl who hates to have her picture taken finally acquiesced when I grovelled at her feet.
"Please, it would mean so much to me...and to my mom. It's her favorite song. I'll send her the video."
So we sang and played Eidelweiss about a thousand times. Sometimes we would start and she would miss a note. Take 2. Sometimes I would play the wrong chord.Take 3. Sometimes I would be unable to suppress unexplained laughter and we would have to cut and begin again.Take 4, 5, 6, etc. After about 290 takes, we finally got one that didn't sound too awful. As we watched the playback, I cringed. Is that old, serious looking lady really me? Why did it sound so beautiful while I was singing it? The American Idol judges would not only call it "pitchy," but I am pretty sure they would threaten to resign unless someone cut out my vocal cords immediately and fed them to the sharks before they could inflict more pain and suffering.

I may not send it to my mom. I may wait til the science of vocal transplant has been perfected. The tangles I was working on were still there when we finished our guitar lesson. But of their own accord, some of the knots seemed a little less tight. I will try to be an Eidelweiss, I decided.

After all, my roots are deep and I am covered.

Jeremiah 17: 7-8
 ⁷ “But blessed is the one who trusts in the LORD,
   whose confidence is in him.
⁸ They will be like a tree planted by the water
   that sends out its roots by the stream.
It does not fear when heat comes;
   its leaves are always green.
It has no worries in a year of drought
   and never fails to bear fruit.”

When Their Eye is on You

We often did not see the forest for the trees this past several months. When we were in the thick of crazy gluing our fingers to 1/16th inch balsa, or ripping mylar for the millionth time, or winding the rubber motor such that the helicopter drilled downward into China, or flinging the projectile backwards instead of forwards with our trebuchet.....it just felt hopeless. But today, ready or not, our contraptions must fling and fly... or flop. It is in God's hands now. Off to the Science Olympiad competition we go, hi ho, hi ho.

The kids really could not have worked harder. Whatever happens, they will never have to say ,"If only we had put more time into it or given more effort."  They do not need to win, place, or show to earn my admiration. They have already earned it. I hope they are rewarded for all their hard work, but it is possible they won't be, not with ribbons and trophies anyway. Their rewards may have to be satisfaction that they did their best. Not many people can say that.

Our Bible study yesterday was Ephesians 6. I think it is one of the single most succinct chapters in how to live a Christian life. A verse I pull out frequently to motivate my kids is paraphrased- work as for the Lord and not for men. Work wholeheartedly whether anyone is watching or not.

How many of us do that?  Yet I saw the kids I coach do that week after week after week. I am so proud of them. Can you tell? I only wish I had been a better coach...like one that knew something....anything......But they labored on in the face of being taught by someone who knew just as much as they did...zilch.

But we all know more than zilch now. We know that crazy glue can be filed off of skin with an emory board, but be prepared to say ouch now and then. This was a valuable lesson. We learned other valuable lessons as well. We learned that the serving size on the Girl Scout Cookies package is way too low. And that breaks now and then to go snowboarding make 80 hour weeks more bearable. We also learned that the simplest solution is best and neophytes should stick to basics.

Anyway, I would write more, but I have a competition to get to with the best kids on earth.

Ephesians 6: 6-8
⁶ Obey them not only to win their favor when their eye is on you, but as slaves of Christ, doing the will of God from your heart. ⁷ Serve wholeheartedly, as if you were serving the Lord, not people, ⁸ because you know that the Lord will reward each one for whatever good they do, whether they are slave or free.

A Cord of Three Strands

It was 3:30 and we were done with all our school work. We blinked at each other. How could this be? This whole year, not only have we never finished school before dinner time, but in addition, Asherel has spent every weekend either building helicopters, repairing broken helicopters, testing trebuchets, writing speeches, or preparing for an art contests. It has been about as relaxing as punching oneself in the head over and over and over.

However... the helicopters are now ready, boxed, and labeled carefully, packed in a bag awaiting transfer to the car early Saturday. The trebuchet is already in the car, with the beautiful black duct tape covering with orange and green flame detailing Asherel made. If it doesn't win at flinging things, it should win "Best Dressed Trebuchet." All the art entries are in for this year awaiting judging, and her last speech for gavel club is one she could probably give in her sleep. 

We let out a collective sigh.

It has been a hard year. It is hard to believe that the hard work is over. Her regular school schedule is a piece of cake with all these extras removed. Would we do it again? I find myself asking that often when I have survived any grueling, excruciating endeavor....be it academic, work, or relational. When I am in the midst of it, I almost always respond with a resounding "NO!".  But when I am nearing the end, or through the ordeal..... I invariably begin to notice the things I gained along the way that I had not noticed while gasping for breath in the midst of it all.

Things like the people we encountered and even befriended along the way. Or the patience we developed that we never knew we had. Or the ability to hold our tongue and let fun invade the precious few moments of work time we had. Or the ability to hold the fun when the work was tedious and hard and yet we had to slog on anyway. Or the ability to tolerate frustration beyond what was fair or bearable....or reaching the breaking point, and seeing that being broken is not really the worst that could happen. Or failing time after time after time, and then procuring the faintest glimmer of success that would never have satisfied us at the outset, but is strangely monumental in the darkness of perpetual defeat. Or recognizing that if helicopters don't fly, and trebuchets don't fling, the sun still rises and sets, and God is still in every spring flower.

That's when we realize we would probably do it again. I suppose in a way, it is like asking, if given the choice, would I rather not have been born?  There are moments when I would answer, yes, life is just too hard. It would have been better not to have had to endure it. Poor Solomon in his lament, Ecclesiastes, reaches that conclusion. The presence of oppression, unbearable evil, meaningless toil, envy, and discontent made Solomon conclude the one who never was born to see all that was the luckier soul. He talks about how at least if two travel the road of hardship together, there is someone to pick you up or keep you warm but one traveling alone is easily overpowered. And then suddenly, after talking about the power of two to at least survive, there is a change in tone and terminology that strikes me as odd. With no warning after this litany of depression and despair, Solomon says, "A strand of three cords is not quickly broken."  Three? We were talking about two just a second ago. Who is this third? And I thought life was a meaningless chasing after the wind.... what is this sudden declaration of hope?

In case I have fooled anyone, I am not a Bible scholar, though I play one on this blog. But I love the Bible and I love the daily dose of delight and guidance I find there. This is what I think Solomon realized that I have realized more and more as I struggle in life. No one can do it alone, and even more importantly, no one can do it without God. That third strand, I think, is God.

Ecclesiastes 4

Oppression, Toil, Friendlessness

 ¹ Again I looked and saw all the oppression that was taking place under the sun:    I saw the tears of the oppressed—
   and they have no comforter;
power was on the side of their oppressors—
   and they have no comforter.
² And I declared that the dead,
   who had already died,
are happier than the living,
   who are still alive.
³ But better than both
   is the one who has never been born,
who has not seen the evil
   that is done under the sun.
 ⁴ And I saw that all toil and all achievement spring from one person’s envy of another. This too is meaningless, a chasing after the wind.
 ⁵ Fools fold their hands
   and ruin themselves.
⁶ Better one handful with tranquillity
   than two handfuls with toil
   and chasing after the wind.
 ⁷ Again I saw something meaningless under the sun:
 ⁸ There was a man all alone;
   he had neither son nor brother.
There was no end to his toil,
   yet his eyes were not content with his wealth.
“For whom am I toiling,” he asked,
   “and why am I depriving myself of enjoyment?”
This too is meaningless—
   a miserable business!
 ⁹ Two are better than one,
   because they have a good return for their labor:
¹⁰ If either of them falls down,
   one can help the other up.
But pity anyone who falls
   and has no one to help them up.
¹¹ Also, if two lie down together, they will keep warm.
   But how can one keep warm alone?
¹² Though one may be overpowered,
   two can defend themselves.
A cord of three strands is not quickly broken.

2 Centimeters to spare

With a week to go til competition day, I remeasured the trebuchet. It had to fit in a 75 cm. box to be legal for competition.  I didn't have a 75 cm box so I measured as best I could. It was difficult as there was no easy way to accurately measure over all the bumps and latticed wood. However, it did not look promising.
"74.9999 cm," I said to Asherel.
"That's cutting it pretty close," she said.

We were in a difficult position. If we changed anything to make it fit without a doubt, all our data would be inaccurate. Accurate data was key to this event. But if we were over 75 cm in any measurement, we would be "second tiered." This means that while we would not be technically disqualified, it would mean no shot at placing.

I know what you all are thinking. Great coach that measures a week before the big day. But actually, I had measured many times. The launch pin was slowly bending and also, we had had to change our sling trigger position at the last minute when it broke. Thus, we were now in the position of being unsure if we would qualify.

So our partner made a 75 cm box, which would have helped except the box was really too floppy to be of any use. All it really proved was that our trebuchet would fit in a floppy box.
"Push it against the wall," said Asherel, "Then I will put a board on this end. We can get an accurate measure of its longest point then."
She was right. (Why had I not thought of that? Perhaps I am spending too much time in the Alzheimer unit.)
So we did and with a huge sigh of relief saw we had not one, but two, TWO whole centimeters to spare. We danced a little jig. At least I did. Asherel just rolled her eyes.

So we have our last hoorah of skiing today, to celebrate our year of discontent. Then we check our Science Olympiad list and gather supplies. We have final testing of our machines over the week, and then the big day that we have been preparing for 9 months to conquer will arrive Saturday.
This year of the hardest work we have possibly ever done academically will end with  a total of about 30 minutes of contests between our 3 events.

At least Noah got a good few months to use the boat he struggled so mightily to build. Our labors will end with maybe a two minute helicopter flight (if we are very lucky), and a 16 meter toss of the trebuchet that will then have no more reason to exist.

Sometimes a moment is long enough. Sometimes it is all you get. When Ezra the prophet finds his people returning to sin, after being granted a reprieve from God to rebuild their temple in Jerusalem....he notes that all they had was a moment, a brief moment to shine....to do the right thing. They did not, but he begged them to leave their backsliding life, and make that brief moment a holy one before God.

And so my prayer for our team is that our moment, our brief moment will be the best moment we can give, consecrated to God. All we have are 2 cm of wiggle room and 2 minutes to make an impact. I know God probably doesn't much care if our helicopter flies, or if our trebuchet flings, but I am quite certain He cares that we live the moment He gives us fully and righteously in the space allotted to us. And as always, leave the results to Him.

Ezra 9: 8-9
⁸ “But now, for a brief moment, the LORD our God has been gracious in leaving us a remnant and giving us a firm place in his sanctuary, and so our God gives light to our eyes and a little relief in our bondage. ⁹ Though we are slaves, our God has not forsaken us in our bondage. He has shown us kindness in the sight of the kings of Persia: He has granted us new life to rebuild the house of our God and repair its ruins, and he has given us a wall of protection in Judah and Jerusalem.

Success is fun

Like a zillion times before, Asherel stepped to the middle of the gym floor, held her helicopter with the tightly wound rubber band aloft and released it. But this time was not to be like all the other times when it fluttered to the ground with wobbly despair. This time it lifted to the tall gym ceiling, both rotors spinning, beautifully balanced. We began to be hopeful as thirty seconds went by and it was still scraping the ceiling, then a minute, then a minute thirty.... then two minutes....then three minutes. Then it stopped spinning and it was still on the ceiling. Its point had stuck into the ceiling tile. The kids shot it down with rubber bands and we tried again.

This time it flew for a minute and forty seconds. We were contenders. We put the helicopter away jubilantly. Short of a disaster, we should not embarrass ourselves at the Science Olympiad competition... and suddenly Asherel is talking about what they will do next year. A little success goes a long way towards motivation.

I will admit that I have had a philosophical conundrum throughout this year. I have heard more times than I would like to recount, "It has to be fun." I like fun as much as the next guy, but I have always countered with, "It is fun to do your best. There is a time and place for silliness, for goofing off, but that is not why I am volunteering my time to coach. Success is fun, believe me."

I think the joy on my helicopter teams' faces indicates they are beginning to understand fun.

I think most times 'fun' is equated with mindless, relaxing, ultimately meaningless endeavors. I don't think hard work, failure, repeated trials, frustration, despair is usually associated with 'fun'. But when the fruit of all those rough moments is victory.... suddenly looking back on it all, you realize that was fun, and you missed it.

I know I bring a pretty serious type A mindset to endeavors. I never enjoyed the silliness of fellow students growing up, just didn't get it. I am still not a big fan of silly. But I am wired for whatever neurotic reason to always try to do my best. And sad to say, that is what I expect of those around me. I am not the ideal coach by a long shot. I find it hard to motivate slackers. I just don't really relate to that mind set, and frankly, it makes me mad. But the science team needed coaches and so they were stuck with what they could scrounge up. Every time we finish a practice, I find myself praying, chastising myself for not being gentler, kinder, quieter. Maybe I just don't really understand fun.

As we left the gym, Asherel turned to me with a huge smile on her face, "THAT was fun," she said.

Psalm 20:5

⁵ May we shout for joy over your victory
   and lift up our banners in the name of our God.
   May the LORD grant all your requests.

Set Free

The trebuchet was flinging accurately, if not at amazing distances.
"We could cheat," suggested Josh.
"How?"
"I didn't really mean it," he said, "They have very stiff penalties for cheating."
"What are they?" I asked, weighing the pros and cons.
"You can be banned from science olympiad for life," he answered.
(And this is a bad thing, how?)
"Maybe even thrown in jail. Science Olympiad jail," he continued.

That is where I already am. Day and night...no escape. Helicopters whir and trebuchets catapult in my dreams.  Endless testing, charting, breaking, repairing.....Two more weeks of science olympiad jail and then I am free....free! Unless we do well and go to States Competition.
Suddenly I knew what I had to do. I had to cheat to insure we did not make it on to States level.
"Do they feed you in this Science Olympiad jail?" I asked.

Some people take my every word seriously so I would like to categorically state right now that I am kidding. I would not cheat, even to avoid any more Science Olympiad. And the kids would not cheat even to win a trophy. They are upstanding and honest and wonderful kids. And they have survived my Attila the Hun leadership with remarkable good humor.

We have our flinging down to a science now. Now we have to just fling a few billion times and chart our results. Unless we break our copters, they are flying long enough to be respectable. The end is in sight. Soon we no longer be under the law of Science Olympiad. We will be free!

We are studying Galatians 4. It talks about no longer being a slave to the law once we have come to faith through believing that Jesus atoning death was the final and only sacrifice necessary for us to be freed to a righteous relationship with God. But Paul begins his letter in Chapter 3 to the Galatians with this phrase, "You foolish Galatians!"
Asherel was perplexed by this.
"He is trying to convince people to believe in Jesus, right?" she asked, "This doesn't seem the way one would talk to people you are trying to win over."
I don't know. Sometimes I need more than kindness. Sometimes I need a good swift kick in the pants to get me headed on the right path. Sometimes I need to be reminded that I am imprisoned, and there is a better way, a whole eternity of freedom that is beckoning me, if I would stop clinging to foolish and stubborn habits and sins.

Science Olympiad is not really so bad. But I am looking forward to the day when I will no longer be under its law, and I will no longer be a slave to the laws of flight and gravity.
But I think God might be urging me to contemplate even further than when I am not bound by Science Olympiad.
"You foolish coach...."  Be a slave no longer to the law but to the lawmaker alone.

Galatians 4: 3-7
...we were in slavery under the elemental spiritual forces of the world. ⁴ But when the set time had fully come, God sent his Son, born of a woman, born under the law, ⁵ to redeem those under the law, that we might receive adoption to sonship. ⁶ Because you are his sons, God sent the Spirit of his Son into our hearts, the Spirit who calls out, “Abba, Father.” ⁷ So you are no longer a slave, but God’s child; and since you are his child, God has made you also an heir.

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.

Ascents and Descents

The phone rang but I ignored it. I never answer the phone when I am teaching art class as I don't want to deprive the kids of one second of my wisdom. After a brief silence it rang again. I still ignored it. It rang a third time and I went to see who was calling. An unknown number. Probably a telemarketer. I returned to my art class where one of the students held up his phone- "Leigh's mom wants to talk to you...."

Lucky, the dog who cannot exist without a day of mischief, had been left loose with his electronic collar on so he could greet the students who came in through the open gate. He had busted out of the electric fence. And now Deenee, my art student's mom, had him in the street, but he didn't want to go back through the electric fence. She had called my home phone three times. I was grumbling about the stupid dog and wondering why Deenee didn't just take off the electric collar to coerce him back in the yard.... when I saw her and Lucky in the street. She was on crutches with a cast on one leg. She held Lucky, tottering on her crutches.

Do you ever feel like you have made really poor choices? You weigh the options, choose a course of action, and then feel like a jerk with the full result of your choices slamming you in the face? And stupid poor choices are one thing. Morally poor choices totally another. Those are accompanied by regret and shame as well as feeling like a knucklehead. I cannot begin to express how deeply I long for wisdom.... for continual, reliable wisdom. And goodness. It just doesn't flow out of me the way it should after all these years of walking with God. It is funny that despite having the world's worst memory, I remember in excruciating clarity every poor choice I have made,  and continue to make. Those haunt me, tugging with icy fingers at my joie de vivre.

Asherel spent another frustrating many days and countless hours on her helicopter, and we did a test flight yesterday morning. After all that work, again, failure. The new wire attachment idea worked, so it didn't break, but it flapped to the ground. She picked it up and the wound rubber band rewound with a resounding smack against her newly repaired rotor, breaking it....again. And then she realized that on both the newly repaired copters, she had attached the rotors backwards. They were flying exactly as they should with rotors pushing them down, down, down....towards Hell.  My usually good natured girl is very close to the breaking point. The very air around her is crystalized...ready to shatter with one more setback.

She went back to work. I went back to prayer. Finally she reemerged with the repaired copters and a woebegone look on her face.
"It won't work," she said.
"Let's try it, " I urged, sighing deeply. I have come to loathe Science Olympiad.
I thought of the highschool student in my art class who is doing the highschool division of the helicopter event.
He has still not started building his, nor researching, nor gathering supplies....and there are now 3 weeks til the contest.
"I suggest you start," I warned grimly.
So we wound Asherel's rubber motor, and she lifted her hand, her face downcast. The helicopter rose out of her hand, and one of the rotors flew off the copter, spiralling to the ground. Miraculously, on just three rotors the helicopter flew for about 20 seconds. This bodes well for what it will do with 4 working rotors.
"Fix it and call that one done. We won't test it again til the team meeting."
There is only so much stress a twig can take before it snaps.

So once again, we are leaving our 70 hour weeks behind and going skiing today. The mountains have fresh powder that was supposed to fall all night but stop conveniently in time for the plows to clear the roads. Asherel and I need to purposely race downward instead of being dragged down against our will.

Continual failure and set backs marked the journey of the Jewish people out of Egypt into the promised land. Some of the failure was due to their own stubborn disobedience, and some due to the evil idolatry and corruption of the people in the lands they traveled through. Any way about it, the Jews struggled in a perpetual see-saw between trusting and following God with joyful wholeheartedness, and giving over into sin and despair over failure after failure after failure. What Asherel, Lucky, and I are experiencing is nothing new. Failure and setbacks are a part of life, sometimes a huge part. Somehow, one has to waddle through the mud of tribulation.

I have a few favorite verses in the Bible, but the past few mornings, one in particular keeps coming back to me, "I lift mine eyes unto the hills. Where does my help come from? "  Yes, I can identify with that despair, looking all around wondering when will triumph blast its trumpet in my ear? I know Asherel can relate. But the rest of the verse is the part that suddenly covers me with relief and peace:
"My help comes from the Lord, the maker of heaven and earth."

To the snow covered hills we will lift our eyes today. The creator or heaven and earth will hopefully be working on the helicopter while we are gone.......

Psalm 121

A song of ascents. ¹ I lift up my eyes to the mountains—
   where does my help come from?
² My help comes from the LORD,
   the Maker of heaven and earth.
 ³ He will not let your foot slip—
   he who watches over you will not slumber;
⁴ indeed, he who watches over Israel
   will neither slumber nor sleep.
 ⁵ The LORD watches over you—
   the LORD is your shade at your right hand;
⁶ the sun will not harm you by day,
   nor the moon by night.
 ⁷ The LORD will keep you from all harm—
   he will watch over your life;
⁸ the LORD will watch over your coming and going
   both now and forevermore.

Waiting for What We Don't Have

"Let no one lose hope..." said the little boy, looking at the dejected army cowering in the face of their enemy.
I had read the story thousands of times, even before I was a Christian. Everyone knows the story of David and Goliath, and everyone knows its message. The impossible giant of an adversary laughs at David's brave words, and so does the army on his own side. They had lost hope, despite what he advises, and that is probably the only reason they gave David a chance.They sent the scrawny little child against the giant no one else could fell....and we all know the result. Slingshots became the weapon of choice for several generations and a cash cow for the Israeli ToysRUs.

In our Bible study yesterday, Asherel commented on the verse in Romans 8:
²⁵ But if we hope for what we do not yet have, we wait for it patiently.

"This is strange," she noted, "Because when I hope for something, I usually am not very patient. I want it now."

She is not alone. I sure don't wait patiently, especially when it is something I don't have. I can wait patiently all day if I have everything I want stacked around me, and perfection is knocking at my door. (Which happens exactly never.) But in that passage in Romans, Paul explains that hope is waiting for what we do not have. If we have it, it isn't hope. This is a very interesting concept, and one I had not really chewed on before.  Paul tells us it is not hope if it is something seen, something we already clutch. Hope is clutching for something out of reach. And God is telling us that those things we don't yet have...that is what we hope for.... and we should not give up. Ever.

We tested the thousandth Science Olympiad helicopter Asherel made yesterday. She spends a good several hours every day on her helicopter. I read her lessons to her( and if anyone understands graphing inequalities, I am all ears.....)
But while I read, and relearn highschool, and struggle probably more than she to understand things like brachycatalexis in poetry which everyone knows is subtracting one or more unstressed syllables in a line of poetry (?), she builds her helicopter.

And then after working so so hard, with both of our nerves fraying from the constant unending work, the helicopter broke....again. The stupid rotor hook keeps snapping away from the motor stick, despite mounds of glue. She just doesn't know what to do differently and I have no idea how to advise her. Meanwhile, time does not stand still, despite theorizing that indeed it does at times and may explain why the earth seems so old but the Bible claims it is young. So our contest date is looming, and we can't give up. We just can't. But we so want to....

This morning while the discouraged Asherel slept, I brought the helicopter to my husband , Arvo, and asked his advice. He has not really been at all involved in the building of the helicopter so I didn't really have hope that he could help us. I was tossing David in to fight Goliath because nothing else worked. Might as well.....
And he came up with a creative idea that I think just might work..... I can't wait for the little unhappy aviator to awaken. But I will wait.... I will wait patiently for what I do not have because I have hope again!

Romans 8:24-26

²⁴ For in this hope we were saved. But hope that is seen is no hope at all. Who hopes for what they already have? ²⁵ But if we hope for what we do not yet have, we wait for it patiently.
 ²⁶ In the same way, the Spirit helps us in our weakness. We do not know what we ought to pray for, but the Spirit himself intercedes for us through wordless groans.

When Life is not the pits......

Hollow Creek Farm is starting a Pitbull club and will be selling really wonderful pitbull paraphernalia....I know this top secret in advance because I have been asked to help design the really cool pitstuff. This is the kind of project I can really sink my teeth into, which pitbulls are given a bad rap for doing themselves. Since the nicest dog I know is a pitbull, I am happy to help educate the public.

In my research to help me come up with a really wonderful, clever, way-cool Pitbull slogan I uncovered some fascinating pitbull facts. Did you know that Pitbulls were the pet of choice for at least two presidents, Woodrow Wilson and Teddy Roosevelt? Woodrow Wilson presided during the famous Treaty of Versailles, ending the "Great War", WWI.  And do you know how he brokered that peace? He consulted his pitbull, who advised him to be peaceful, but strong.

In fact,  only a generation or so ago, pitbulls were considered the dog of choice by many due to their reputation for determination, dignity and strength. They were considered a symbol of what made America great. There were patriotic posters featuring pitbulls wrapped in American flags. Even more shocking given their poor reputation nowadays, they were called "nanny" dogs because of their loyal and tender, loving protection and care of children. Helen Keller and Fred Astaire both owned pitbulls. So what happened....how did the pitbull become so maligned and hated?

I can answer pretty much any question with two simple choices- 1. Jesus, or 2. Stupidity and Ignorance
.
Try it. Ask anything and either 1 or 2 will fit.
Let's give it a shot:
1. Who will protect me when I dare to go skiing again?
 Answer: Jesus
2. Why will I dare to go skiing again?
Answer: Stupidity and Ignorance
3. What got me into this mess?
Answer: stupidity and ignorance
4. Who will get me out of this mess?
Answer: Jesus
5. Why are we having broccoli again, Mom?
Answer: depends on who is asking this one. If you love broccoli, the answer is Jesus, if you hate broccoli, the answer is stupidity and ignorance.

But you get the point. So why did Pitbulls get such a bad rap? Answer #2- Stupidity and Ignorance.
In the 1980s, dog fighting became a growing underground gambling operation, and the pitbull with their notorious strength and tenacity were bred and used as fighter dogs. Any breed that is not socialized and trained, exercised, and loved can and likely will become dangerous. It is not dogs that should be licensed.... it is people. Unfortunately, there is no way to legislate against stupid, ignorant people owning dogs so it is always the dog that suffers.

Speaking of tenacity..... after working on my pitbull slogans, we traipsed off to our weekly smacking our head against the wall Science Olympiad practice. Our first class was helicopter, to be followed by our trebuchet class. As you recall if you read my blog faithfully, (which is what everyone on the earth should be doing), after months of work and hours and hours of diligent researching and building, we had neither a working helicopter or Trebuchet. With only 4 more meetings til the competition, this was very not good.
But, we tested our 3 helicopters and every single one flew! One of them hovered a half inch off the floor but it hovered for almost a minute. If it can do that at the competition it would likely place.

Then, on to trebuchet. The kids altered their sling release peg, and voila, that treb flung the projectile a mile. At least we think it would have. We flung a little nerf ball indoors to test it, since we couldn't go out in the rain. We are pretty sure it would have gone much further than the dismal flings we had been getting.

So unlike the poor pitbull, our tenacity is paying off.....

Hebrews 10:35-37

³⁵ So do not throw away your confidence; it will be richly rewarded.
 ³⁶ You need to persevere so that when you have done the will of God, you will receive what he has promised. ³⁷ For,
   “In just a little while,
   he who is coming will come
   and will not delay.”[

Following the flight plan....

What little the hairdresser left we want to rip out now. Frustration over our Science Olympiad Helicopters has reached an almost unbearable peak. After approximately 4,567,898 hours of research and construction, the helicopter flies about 4 seconds. Everything about the helicopter looks good. There is no reason it should not fly, but it doesn't. Se we are doing what every dedicated, hard working, serious scientist does when she faces obstacles and setbacks.

We are going snowboarding.

And we are taking a friend and an expert snowboarder. Our expert, Danielle, will trade us a lesson for Asherel in exchange for the drive to the mountains. She guarantees that she will have Asherel turning and stopping in no time.  I know that even falling and crashing  on a snowy mountain for now would be more fun for Asherel than gluing her fingers to 4 gram balsa helicopters that won't fly.

And it is not for lack of trying. I cannot with a straight face say Asherel listened to all my advice...not at first, anyway. She is now. However, she has put more hours into this helicopter than anything else she has ever attempted, including learning how to read and write. I am not certain this kind of effort for the return is worth it. She has learned less about helicopters than she has about perseverance, uphills that never end, and how to live a life with no fun or free time for a season. Maybe that is the point.Those lessons may sometimes hold her in good stead, if  say one day she is told the Messiah will come but until then, there will be wars, famines, disease, despair, and spiritual battles.She must learn to live joyfully, victoriously, expectantly even when the world around her is not at all an aviator's dream. Oh wait.....she is told that....

Maybe God is throwing an object lesson our way. Do not give up. Ever.Not on the really important things like living a holy life, sanctified to God, filled with truth and righteousness. Do not weary of doing right- others are watching. And when they see your helicopter fly out of glue stained, worn out fingers that are cramped from all those hours of tedious careful work, you just never know if their soul might be tempted to follow  your flight plan. You never know who might be flying in your draft right into the arms of the God of both Heaven and Earth.

"Have you got your helicopter ready?" I asked one of the high school division kids. He is doing the same event at a higher level than Asherel.
"We haven't even started yet, " he answered, "We're hoping to find a used one on Ebay."

And then there is that approach.

Meanwhile, we hope to return from flying down snowy mountains to flying helicopters.
Never give up.....

Spring can't be far.....

The Northerners just got socked with another two feet of snow, and here in the South, it is expected to reach nearly 60 degrees. Everyone I meet says they are tired of the cold and ready for Spring, and it isn't even Groundhog day yet!

I noticed a squirrel raiding our lawn chair cushion yesterday. She pulled out a huge wad of stuffing and absconded with it, scurrying up a towering oak. That can only mean she is building a nest which means baby squirrels are in the offing, which means spring must be near.

"Help yourself!" I called out as she returned for a second morsel of fluff. We never use those old cushions anyway. May as well pad the entry into the world of another rodent.

In my opinion, you can never have enough squirrels or helicopters. I love squirrels with their question mark tail. I love there cheerful chittering and their acrobatic antics as they leap among the leafy treetops. Squirrels make me smile.

Lately, however, helicopters make me cry.  As Science Olympiad now looms only 5 weeks away, a working helicopter is becoming more and more critical. A few weeks back we had two working helicopters. The team was already purchasing trophy cases for all the awards they would be racking up. And yesterday we went to practice with five completed helicopters in our hangar ( a large plastic box).  Each was of a slightly different design. Each held months of promise in their carefully sanded bodies and countless hours of effort.

Not one worked. Every single one broke as soon as we began winding the rubber motor. After some repairs, we did get two to fly for about 1 second each. And then they broke again.

As we left the practice gym, two dejected hours later, Asherel said , "That went well."
I glanced at her. Was she being sarcastic?
"We learned alot," she explained.
In my mind, that means the long season of educational winter is over. Someone on the planet in the sphere of my teaching has made the correct connection of what education is all about! Buds of comprehension are pushing through the dormant bark. Hallelujah!

One of the hardest jobs as a parent is trying to convince your children you know something they don't. And beyond that, you know something it would be wise for them to learn. The accumulation of facts, while a nice benefit for those with good memories, does not produce a well educated, functional member of society, nor does producing ten rubber helicopters that fly more than 2 seconds.  But a respectful and eager learner, who looks at failure as the opportunity to grow in understanding is a blessing beyond compare. And a child who begins to understand that those people God has placed in authority over them should be listened to is one who has the beginning of true wisdom.

Proverbs 9:9-12
⁹ Instruct the wise and they will be wiser still;
   teach the righteous and they will add to their learning.  ¹⁰ The fear of the LORD is the beginning of wisdom,
   and knowledge of the Holy One is understanding.
¹¹ For through wisdom^[b] your days will be many,
   and years will be added to your life.
¹² If you are wise, your wisdom will reward you;