Saddle Up

Asherel and I share a love of horses. All animals really... but horses are in the top 3. I have also always loved bicycling, and as a little girl, pretended my bicycles were horses. I named them, and talked to them, and pretended I was a great jockey as I galloped around the block. I worked on a farm as a child and spent many hours shoveling manure so I would be allowed to be near horses. As an artist, all I drew til I was in art school were horses.

When my first two kids came along, neither loved horses, bicycles, or art. I was flung into a world of incomprehensible math, music, and computers. I tried very hard to understand and love these things because I loved my children, but it was like an elephant trying to do ballet. I even went so far as to become a volunteer teacher at our math club so that I could share their passion.... but I was always a croaking frog trying to be a trilling lark.

And then, 9 years after birthing these alien beings so different from me, Asherel popped into our lives. Asherel loves all animals with the same passion as I do, even crying over squished ants. She loves horses so much that in a mirror of my childhood, when we stay at a timeshare to visit Matt in Virginia, Asherel volunteers at the horse farm there, just to be near the horses. And as if God had not blessed me enough, He gave her a deep passion for art and made her an exceptional artist. Finally, here was a child that I understood. Don't get me wrong.... I love my boys and am amazed by the things they know and can do.... but it is an incomparable gift to have a child that speaks your language.

The Bible passage I read yesterday was when Jesus is preparing His disciples for His imminent departure. He tells them that their role is not one of servant, but of friend. It struck me greatly that the God of the Universe would desire friendship of His children. The intimacy and gentleness of that passage reminded me of how lonely sometimes parenthood can be, how frightening, how overwhelming. I don't think in the younger years that our intent should be to have "friends" but to guide, discipline, and prune our children to grow strong and sufficient in God. But what a blessing and delight to have such a connection that when you settle back in the years of grey hair and aching joints to be able to say, "Saddle up, friend, let's ride together."

John 15:14-16 (New International Version)

¹⁴You are my friends if you do what I command. ¹⁵I no longer call you servants, because a servant does not know his master's business. Instead, I have called you friends, for everything that I learned from my Father I have made known to you. ¹⁶You did not choose me, but I chose you and appointed you to go and bear fruit—fruit that will last. Then the Father will give you whatever you ask in my name.

Leeches

Once when I was canoeing near my parent's old lake house, I fell in one of the very quiet still inlet areas. The water was only a few inches deep so I was in no danger, but when I pulled my hand out of the muck to stand up, it was covered with baby leeches.

For those of you reading this and eating breakfast, you may want to come back at a later time. Little is more disgusting than a handful of leeches, unless it is a footfull, and I had that too. If I remember correctly, Matt was in the boat at the time, a young Matt, and of course he fell in too, and his hand was also covered with leeches. It is possible that with the passage of time, more leeches were covering us than was strictly the case, but I do remember thinking "If I panic, I will freak Matt out, so I will not panic.... but I may die of being grossed out beyond what I can bear."

Leeches are not dangerous, at least not in the short term. All they do is suck your blood, but they do so painlessly and antiseptically. If you ever needed a good reason not to drink lake water, I discovered an interesting leech fact in a site titled "Lovable Leeches." (In my opinion, this is taking alliteration too far because there is no way one could describe them as lovable, especially in light of the leech fact I discovered there.)

In 1799 when Napoleon's army was marching across the leech infested waters of the Sinai Peninsula, they drank some as they were quite thirsty. As a result, they swallowed leeches which attached to the inside of their throat, and as the leeches swelled with the soldier's blood, the soldier died of asphyxiation. Lovely way to go, don't you think?

Of course, leeches are a double edged sword. If you have a life endangering infection, leeches can very effectively and cleanly suck it out.

They latch onto their victim by suction and then suck blood until they are full, at which point they fall off. By the way, you cannot pull a leech off very easily. They suction on with a substance that is the strength of crazy glue. We tried, naturally, to pull them off but they gleefully kept sucking away with their permanent bond to our capillaries. They were not coming off til they were finished dining. Matt and I, of course, did not want to wait til the 2,098, 764 on our hands and feet were full, so noticing a woman on her porch watching us foundering off her shore, we politely asked if we could borrow some salt. She obliged and we dumped the salt on our bodies, at which point we scraped all the squirming leeches off and the story ends happily.

But since there is little reason for a leech to be on earth unless God intended me to discover an important symbol, I immediately set to finding the message of the leech. The leech lives in very still and quiet waters. It does not like to be disturbed. On the surface, the water is calm and lovely, shallow and of no ostensible threat. Sometimes of course, life is like that water too. All is calm and well, unperturbed. Life is smooth and tranquil. But just beneath that veneer of peace, there often lurks a danger, a trial, something that painlessly can drain your life from you. And those trials can be horrific, and you may not think you will survive.... but sometimes those trials are the very thing that drains away a character flaw, a sin, an infection of the soul that nothing else could touch.

None of us want to reach out with leeches on our soul....and the cure feels worse for a time than the disease....but if it forces you to reach for the salt of heaven, it is perhaps worth it.

Hebrews 9:14
How much more, then, will the blood of Christ, who through the eternal Spirit offered himself unblemished to God, cleanse our consciences from acts that lead to death, so that we may serve the living God!

Perky Hearts

I am not a little dog person, since my mother instilled in me at a young age that anything under 50 pounds is not a dog. I don't know what she thinks they are- but for her, dogs need to be large enough to rip out elbows or require Mack trucks to haul away their week worth of poop. However, while we were on a Resurrection day stroll yesterday, we saw a little dog in the handlebar basket of a bicycle. He was wagging his little tail, and his ears were perked, blowing in the wind. He looked so cheerful and perky that my heart gladdened just to see him.

I am a sucker for perky. I love passion and enthusiasm, pluck and perk. Almost uniformly little dogs have those characteristics, so I disagree with my mom. I think there is a lot to be said for little dogs, not the least of which is they would be unlikely to pull down porch columns if they were tied to one and saw a neighbor's dog walk by.

I like perky in people too. I got an email yesterday from a fellow homeschooler, someone I don't know, and she was bubbling with perk telling us about an upcoming walk to raise money/awareness for Juvenile Diabetes. We have participated in that walk with Asherel's friend who has diabetes. Anyway, the email sender has a son with diabetes, and she was filled with optimism that a cure is very close and asked in a very polite way that if we felt led, to please donate. The letter was so full of hope and optimism and perkiness in the face of what I know are tremendous trials, that I decided I would donate to JD this year.

Anyway, today she sent another group email, her perky heart obviously deflated and grieving. She had not meant to send out such a huge group email, she said, and one person had been upset with her, "blind sided" she wrote, and perky lady apologized up and down about sending us all the email. She said she had been thoughtless in her enthusiasm.

I do not get it. I don't get why anyone would be offended by such a personal and heart felt plea, first of all. Second of all, the beauty of emails is if you don't like it or don't want to read it, you can ignore it or better yet, delete it. What is the big deal? Is it worth bursting a perky heart over, and a perky heart that obviously is heavily burdened for a child she loves and longs to save?

It is frightfully easy to squash hope, and enthusiasm, and perky little dogs. But how much nicer to let them sail in a basket of encouragement and community, with joy bubbling in their wake.

Job 16:4-6 (New International Version)

⁴ I also could speak like you,
if you were in my place;
I could make fine speeches against you
and shake my head at you.

⁵ But my mouth would encourage you;
comfort from my lips would bring you relief.

⁶ "Yet if I speak, my pain is not relieved;
and if I refrain, it does not go away.

Looking for Life

The last place you would look for a living creature is on a volcano. I have been reading a book with the plot placed in Hawaii and one scene (factual) about people who live on the edges of live volcano fields really struck me. When the lava flows, they move... hopefully fast enough. Nutty.

So it was with great interest I stumbled upon the "Volcano Rabbit", who lives on the slopes of volcanoes in Mexico, and so fitting since devout Christians everywhere today are paying homage to the Resurrection and the rabbit.(At least if you were a Martian landing on Planet Earth today, I am certain you would think the God we worship was a large bunny that is part bird as he carries eggs wherever he goes.)

But this symbol of the Resurrection "might could" work (as they say here in the South- one of my favorite phrases). The Volcano Rabbit is an endangered species. No kidding, Sherlock! Of all the places he might have chosen to settle, this would not be the numero uno choice for survival, if you ask me. But here is the zinger- it is not his dangerous habitat dwindling his numbers- it is target practice. Hunters, who don't eat the rabbits, practice their quail hunting skill by shooting at the Volcano Rabbits. The Volcano Rabbit is considered a pest, since so many people are scampering to buy up property on the latest lava flow. Gimme a break.

So here is a rabbit that I think maybe could embody some of the aspects of our Holy Day. First, he lives in a world that in time will be replaced for some by fire and brimstone. He is unjustly maligned, and sought to be killed by those who don't understand. His death is substitutionary. And finally, he exists where no one would expect to find life. He hasn't settled in some nice verdant valley by juicy willow tree roots. No, he has settled in a world that is hostile, that seeks to destroy him, and foolishly considers him unwanted, a pest. He is innocent, but dies at the hands of a guilty world.

Of course, there the analogy ends. The Volcano Rabbit will not rise from the ashes. The wonderful news we commemorate on this day is that Jesus did rise again, and life was found in death, a most unlikely place to be looking for it.

Luke 24:4-6 (New International Version)

⁴While they were wondering about this, suddenly two men in clothes that gleamed like lightning stood beside them. ⁵In their fright the women bowed down with their faces to the ground, but the men said to them, "Why do you look for the living among the dead? ⁶He is not here; he has risen! Remember how he told you, while he was still with you in Galilee:

Dangers of the Porch

Per my suggestions a couple of blog posts ago, Asherel and I were sitting on the front porch yesterday doing school work. Both dogs were out front with us, with Honeybun tied to the porch column. She was sitting between us on the porch glider while Lucky lay in the yard, watching the world go by. It was a gorgeous 80 degree day with flowers and bushes all in bloom, and birds chirping.

And then, just as I had written about in my blog, community was about to be enhanced! People were walking by, people I only vaguely know who live somewhere in our neighborhood. Here is where the rubber meets the road- time to prove you believe all that inspiring stuff you write about. Time to shout hello to the neighbors and build this gentle and friendly world through the assistance of the benevolent front porch.

The neighbors were walking a dog. In a flash, Honeybun, seeing the dog, shot off the porch swing and ripped full force barking towards the neighbor and his dog, just as I was about to wave and start exchanging planet- changing pleasantries about what a nice day it was.....
As she reached the end of the wire tie, there was a terrible crash and the porch column came crashing down, completely ripped off its base. It is lucky Asherel wasn't killed. Arvo had told me before the column was just for show- it does not hold the porch roof up, so I panicked less than I might have had I thought the roof was about to bury us in rubble right in the middle of our Bible study.

The neighbor hurried on, not even looking back. Not only do I suspect I have not advanced "community", but I suspect they will not be walking anywhere near our street again. As the dust settled Asherel and I looked at each other.

"Well we probably shouldn't do that again," I suggested.

So now I must add a warning to my blog post about porch sitting. The world is a dangerous place and the porch is no exception. Sit on the porch at your own peril!

Psalm 140:4-6

⁴ Keep me, O LORD, from the hands of the wicked;
protect me from men of violence
who plan to trip my feet.

⁵ Proud men have hidden a snare for me;
they have spread out the cords of their net
and have set traps for me along my path.

⁶ O LORD, I say to you, "You are my God."
Hear, O LORD, my cry for mercy.

Holding Back the Ocean

The beach is one of my favorite places. I love the sounds and smells of the vast ocean stretching away like eternity, all the interesting sea creatures, the schreeching gulls, and the soft warm sand. As the weather begins to warm, I start to long for a trip to the beach.

With startling contrast though, the beach also is the source of great anxiety. I know I am safe sitting harmlessly in 6 inch deep water, watching the ocean, but my children insist on playing in it. Do you know how many varieties of certain death exist in and around the beach?

For starters, there are rip tides. Rip tides lurk in any ocean water, hiding themselves in the seemingly placid 5 foot waves, and when the victim least expects it, grabs them by the ankles and yanks them 3 miles out to sea. At this point, ocean danger number two appears. Sharks. These eating machines pay the rip tides big money to catch them dinner, and then they come at you with 10 rows of teeth. If you have ever seen even one row of shark teeth, you know that the definition of "redundancy" should be "more than one row of shark teeth."

Should you survive the sawing in half of your body by the shark's rotating dental daggers, you are encouraged not to swim directly back to shore, or the rip tide will still get you, but to swim parallel to shore for several hundred feet and then consider doggy paddling homeward. Danger number three now blobs into action. Jelly fish. This is almost laughable to be in danger of excruciating agony from something that jiggles and has no brain. I have never been stung by a jelly fish, but from what I hear by those who have been, the pain is similar to stitches without anesthesia or listening to the early rounds of American Idol.

But let's presume your high tolerance to pain allows you to manage to reach the surfline, almost home free.... where danger number 4 awaits. The ocean itself, with those waves that exert enough force to topple skyscrapers. "Waves" is a deceptively benign word, as though there was a pleasant shifting of soft droplets saying a gentle hello to a sun-kissed beach. Nothing could be further from the truth. These so-called waves would be more aptly named "whompers" as they unleash tons of force in all directions upon anything standing in their path. When I worked briefly in the spinal cord unit of Ranchos Los Amigos hospital in L.A., 90 % of the quadripelegics there were from encounters with 'whompers" while surfing.

So every trip to the beach is approached with breath holding anticipation as well as heart stopping angst. Every year I vacillate between utter relaxation and utter paranoia as I "relax" on the soft sand. I can no more hold back the ocean than my worries...but have learned to accept that I can't tame either. What I can do is pray and recognize that very little is in my control anyway and the price we pay for living is eventually death. But the ocean stretching as far as I can see also reminds me that unlike Jesus, I don't have to face death alone nor is it the end in an eternity, and that is the great comfort of the Resurrection.

Job 12:15-16

¹⁵ If he holds back the waters, there is drought;
if he lets them loose, they devastate the land.

¹⁶ To him belong strength and victory;
both deceived and deceiver are his.

Why ham?

The day I call Resurrection Sunday is near. Everyone is busily preparing for that holiest of holy days by frantically scouring the mall for new shoes, bonnets, and dresses. There is no doubt Jesus would want us well dressed as we arrive at the crucifixion. The glorious symbol of perhaps the most horrifying and monumental act of all history is cheerfully plastered all over store windows, a furry little bunny carrying a basket laden with sugar goodies. And to cap it off, the most exquisite irony of all, the traditional meal to memorialize this leader of the Jews.....ham. For those of you who don't follow Kosher rules, Jewish people do not eat pork.

I don't want to throw a wet rag on everyone's happy celebration.... Easter is a happy day. Jesus rose again and we are saved from our sins if we believe in the atoning nature of that ultimate sacrifice. I just have never understood how this can be transmitted by a talking bunny hopping along with a basket of cavity causing goodies. Call me crazy, but I am not convinced this demonstrates the theological import of the event.

I am not a serious person. I have been accused many times of laughing too easily at too much. So sue me. But, for some reason, the whole Easter thing irks me. It just seems so flippant and thoughtless for what should be a day of deep self reflection and study.

Some people eat lamb for Easter, and that makes a certain amount of sense. The traditional passover meal was lamb, and quite likely, Jesus had lamb at His last passover celebration. The symbolism of a sacrificial lamb is appropriate to the season and to the event. But why ham? The reason is convenience. In the US, in the days before refrigeration, meat animals were slaughtered in the fall and either consumed or cured for the winter months. Curing was a lengthy process and pork was usually the first meat fully cured, right around Easter time.

Of course you probably don't need me to tell you that Easter is named after the goddess Astarte, the ancient Phoenician goddess of fertility and war. Now if that is not a symbolic conundrum, I don't know what is. Pop out those babies so you can shoot em down! But I digress.
Astarte was worshiped in pagan rituals that are a little racy for me to describe in a prime time blog. Both the egg and bunny symbols were associated with this fertility goddess. Why and how Christians appropriated these pagan symbols and then glued them to the holiest of holy
events is beyond the scope of this post.

I think we are being bamboozled... I think we sugar coat something that should be horrific. Jelly beans and Peeps just seem strange bedfellows with nails hammered into living flesh and the utter ugliness of sin and inestimable beauty of true sacrifice and atonement. Sometimes I think we settle for things that we should rage against, even if it is cuddly like a bunny.

Romans 12:2
Do not conform any longer to the pattern of this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind. Then you will be able to test and approve what God's will is—his good, pleasing and perfect will.