Wednesday, October 30, 2013

Volleyball and the art of worrying

Last night I crawled into bed with heaviness on my heart and mind. A friend was going through something hard, and didn't seem to be handling it well. I had given her some advice, which she promptly discarded, as being useless to her circumstances, since I apparently didn't understand it. I had even prayed about what to say, and had asked others to do so on my behalf, How dare she!! Anyway, I went to bed wondering if I would be up all night trying to figure out how to fix her. (Are you grinning now?) I decided, after weighing many options, that my last resort would be to pray about it. (Who would like to thump me on the forehead? Line up nicely. Don't push.) As I'm praying and worrying simultaneously, and yes, it can be done, a picture came into my head. It was the sand volleyball court at my church, Becker Baptist. I had been asked to play on a league one summer. I was never asked for another summer, so I'm saving that for another angst-filled day of insecurity when I need something to boo-hoo about. However, I wildly digress. As I picture that volleyball court, I see myself standing there in the sand. As I am 5'2, most people there are taller than me. It is important that I play my position, so that I don't get squashed by others, or that someone doesn't break their leg falling over me. I Hear/sense the presence of the Trinity. I never know Who it is so I say my usual. Hi, there. It's me. I'm stuck again. He chuckles. I'm usually stuck on something. In a small, quiet voice He says, "Play your position. If the ball comes your way, play it. I'll handle the rest." Hmm. I thought about it. So, Do what is clearly obvious to do, and leave the rest. I can do that. Good night.

Monday, April 15, 2013

Climbing Back Down

This morning, as I drank my coffee and tried to wake up, I heard one of my cats crying piteously. Where was it coming from? I looked up, and there he was, way up on top of the wall that separates our kitchen and living room. He's done that before; counter, to fridge top to cabinet top to wall, though he knows he's not supposed to. However, this time, something on the counter top had been moved, into the spot where he would climb down. He looked so remorseful that I decided to help him. I moved the offending toaster, patted the places where he could reach, and watched him jump down, very relieved. That triggered a memory of mine. I loved to climb, too, as a kid. Trees, gravel pits, barn rafters, and cliffs. If it was warm enough, I loved to climb barefoot. God gave me long monkey toes for a reason! I also seemed to be missing a healthy fear of heights. I was with a friend in Taylor's Falls, a wonderfully rocky canyon that holds the St. Croix River, between Minnesota and Wisconsin. There were amazing cliffs to climb, so off came the shoes and socks, and up I went! I climbed until I ran out of cliff, then decided to go back and find another place. To my surprise and dismay, I could not see my hand and toeholds from the top, the perspective was totally different from up there. I studied the rocks. It became clear that the only reasonable way down was on the other side of a wide cleft, and the only way to get there would be to jump. There wasn't enough room on that little plateau to land on my feet; I had to dive across the space and land on my stomach. I launched and landed. Oof. When I had recovered my oxygen, I started back down. Surprise! There was that healthy fear that I had been lacking. In the years since, I still climb on things. I like to believe though, that I am wiser in my choices. This has given me some insight into raising and interacting with my young adult son, and my friends and family. We all sometimes get into places where we get stuck, often of our own doing. Sometimes I need to be patient and call out encouragement; sometimes I need to point out the steps to climb back down. All of us are climbing something. Offer a way to climb back down. You may need one yourself.

Summer Iris

Summer Iris