New Grass.... Second Chances

Ick.... I know... patchy grass that just seems to keep taking over more and more of the lawn.  This has been happening to a section of my lawn over the past year.  There is definitely a powerful disease afoot.  I have tried sprays, powders, more water, less water, fertilizer, man-made and organic chemicals.  It has been very elusive and I have even tried throwing sod over it.....uh huh....no go.  I have gone to the so called experts at the landscape outfits..... I am sure I just didn't execute the formula with enough discipline.... I think I have, but with no results to show...  I have decided I have possessed and vexed grass and that it is to make me suffer for some stupid 'sin' of the past.  I think it actually knows that I am at my wits end and have even uttered a few colorful metaphors that would cause a bit of a "oh" look on those that think they know me.     

I have even looked heavenwards on a few occasions wondering if God is paying attention to my plight! No real praying has occurred yet, 'cause that would actually mean I would have to really get serious on my end of things and I am not sure my lawn deserves my "best!"  Hah!......Rather, I resemble something more like a dismal victim-like lawn loser hoping some angelic being will descend and cause a mighty intervention.....I mean, shouldn't this be on the top of God's list of things to worry about??

When it comes to the physically hard things in life, I am not the "long view" guy typically.  So, this being a longer term bur under the saddle I have resorted to becoming comfortable with discomfort--a poor man's excuse for not dealing straight up with stuff......

....... until recently.

Thank goodness for small moments of inspiration that come when least expected.  It was the last week before school started.... All my kids were home, which is becoming less and less of a regular occurrence..... I started to wonder what they might be learning from me before they go off to their respective university and school.   It came to me that if any of them had been watching me like a fly on the proverbial garden wall this past year, they would have given me a C- grade at best for my "lawn" efforts.   That started to bug me....With that context and in that moment, I girded up my loins and had a little self talk --  I concluded that I hadn't 'done' my all... I hadn't brought my best.  I was justifying my efforts as "good enough" -- the truth is that I had not exhausted all possibilities, even though my lesser self had convinced my better self that I had. Justification, what a powerful disease....  I thought about all the life's lessons had crossed our families' path.... all the learning moments, the little metaphors that we use to teach our kids......others......and my own self.   It took me longer, but I was startled at the sudden realization of almost wasting a perfect metaphor -- to learn from and then to maybe share with others.  Stupid grass.....now I had to really buckle down and get serious......yes even "grow up."   Dang, why do I suck at that so bad?  Being mature can really kick my backside more than I would like to confess.  

I decide to do the whole 9 yards... pull out the yellow grass, prep the soil, rake, remove debris, soften the earth, sprinkle the mixture of fescue (cool technial grass term!), fertilizer, and peat moss in each spot.  Even the tossing gesture was practiced and rehearsed...Ha!  I then did the careful light spray of water at the right time of day and night.  Never letting it get dry...always moist.  I watered with more intent, more hope, more earnest.  I didn't play the silly game of thinking there would be grass in 24 hours... the quick fix syndrome we play in our lives.... "See God, I just did one good deed, where is the blessing??? I steeled myself to not even pretend to look or expect any result until 10 days had passed.  Just do the routine and don't miss.... every day.......

On day 11 I just finally let myself just take a peek not expecting anything..... I couldn't believe it!!  There were these little green pokies that were stretching like an inch tall out of the ground....holy moly!  I could not believe it.  These are things that do not happen to me.... not in this realm.  I turned into an 8 year old that just got new sneakers!!  Look everyone... look how fast I can run!  Look at how powerful I am ...... Look how great I am ......Look at what I can do....Look at me....Look at me!



And just as I was beating my chest I felt the familiar climb of that silly lump.....up into my throat.  Yes, the enormity hit me....   

Look everyone.....look how fast He will respond, when we do our part......   Look at the powerful way He teaches..... Look how long He will wait... for me.... and for you, to make your way over to that winning lane.... Look how He respects our choice so much that He will let us stumble, tumble and fall for a while, until we decide to do right things right and then He never leaves us without the lesson, so subtle, simple and beautiful....Look at how great God is...!  Look at what He can do.....Look at Him.....Look to Him. 

I never expected new grass to help me learn about second chances.   Our lawns are like our lives after all.. we have been given a plot to take care of in this life.  We tend to it.  We weed, we water, we care, we toil, we prune, cut and trim, we grow, we reap, we imagine, we feel, we create, we share with others.  Lawns, like life, need us.  We neglect and they shrivel.  If we don't learn to care for something else besides ourselves, they die.... and maybe in God's infinite and simple wisdom, we need them maybe even more......  Once we right ourselves and do the work, lawns almost always come back, they respond like soldiers to the rigor and routine.  Very cool.  

My life is my lawn...I know my life and all those in it definitely deserve my best... why shouldn't my lawn then?.... I have had the brown spots, the diseases, the yellow thatchy grass that spikes.  I wouldn't be here without second chances.  I wouldn't be here without new grass.  All of you have been part of that journey... thank you for never giving up on me. I never will on you......

So...back to my kids... Never give up... keep trying.  You will never fail.  

Heaven: Arriving or Becoming?

They were teaching: "Justification vs Sanctification" a few Sunday's ago in church.   Kinda big bible-like words which I have heard many times throughout my life...  One of those deals that when you hear someone smart explain it once, you are all like "Oh yeah! I got it... I can explain that no problemo next time"   Then the next time you hear it you are like "Uh... what does that mean again?"  And the cycle repeats.  This time it was different.... at the end of all the talking, some smart person finally dumbed it down for me and it came out like this: 

"Arriving" vs "Becoming"   

Ah... that was different... That sat with me a whole lot better!  Much easier to wrap my head around and grind upon what that could mean.....

How many of us are just hoping to "get there".. meaning heaven, or whatever life's ending destination might be defined as...  There is Nirvana, Valhalla, Moksha, Svarga Loka, Heaven, or yes.... even the Grey Havens.   It seems most religions talk, profess and create an interest in returning, finding, attaining or arriving at some almost geographic-esque place.  Some of these aren't just physical locals,  but at times resemble spiritual or meta-physical places.....at the end of the day......most seem to be destinations generally speaking.It was suggested that maybe we should be focusing on "becoming" vs. "arriving".....

Arriving suggests that one might be "done".  Like, stop working so hard, you have finished...The final task completed, while "becoming" infers.....not quite yet....in fact, it really speaks to complete opposite....that of -- never ending or forever progressing.

Watching the Olympics these past few weeks was an amazing experience.  My heart soared so many times!  I tried to watch everything I could.  I am drawn to the games every 2 years. There is something about world class athletes that can break world records and be at the top of their respective "game" and yet, still want to achieve....more.  They aren't satisfied. They keep fine tuning their "machine."  They never stop.... they never "arrive."  They continue the journey of "becoming."  Do we do that? Or do we become comfortable with a "good day's work?"..... procrastinating our potential of today for that of tomorrow.....maybe, if we feel like it.  What is it that would push us to new heights each day? What would the motivation be?  

What I love about all religions that I know of...limited for sure....is that there is always a sense of progression, enlightenment, or transformation into something kinder, wiser, better.... that pushes man to new heights.  Maybe the God I believe in, is my wise coach, seeing in me what I can't... whispering inspiring thoughts through spiritual means to help me be my best, and maybe your version of God is doing the same to you.

I think I am 'becoming'..... a bit more each day.  Often I can't tell if I have digressed, certainly feels that way at times.  But overall, I look back once in awhile and at least I am still on the track, running for that elusive sub 4 minute mile.  As long as I am in the pack, with my eyes set on the prize, I will continue to run.  I don't have to beat Usain Bolt's time, I just need to beat my last best time.  Paul I think understood well:

"For I am now ready to be offered, and the time of my departure is at hand. 7I have fought a good fight, I have finished my course, I have kept the faith: 8Henceforth there is laid up for me a crown of righteousness, which the Lord, the righteous judge, shall give me at that day: and not to me only, but unto all them also that love his appearing."           2 Timothy 7

Here is to me finishing my race well... and to you and yours....

The Agony and the Ecstasy

"On a scale of 1 to 10....how would you describe your pain?" 

Have you heard this familiar question from the nurse or Dr. on a recent visit?  It is a regular question that is always asked.   Dr.'s have been trained to manage pain.  Unfortunately, they have gotten really good at it.... too good!

Last year, Landon shadowed a neurosurgeon and watched patient after patient answer this question..... In almost every case, pain pills were administered.  It has become the single most asked question of patients. Pain management has become the soup du jour.   What Landon saw, in his opinion, was a lot of prescribing to patients that had just become reliant on them as a lifestyle.  A lifestyle that had blurred the senses enough to continue the continual partaking of that comfortable "cocktail".  He left that day wondering if that was the future he was heading into after med school.  My point isn't to judge the medical community or people for that matter....what do I really know?  All I do know is that we have an epidemic on our hands a new culture around opioids has been created and very difficult now to overcome.  A friend of mine worked on one of the flagship court cases trying to address this issue.  Alannis Morrisette may have actually understood irony after all, not because of her song "Ironic" but rather because of "Jagged Little Pill".

I remember when I first was diagnosed with a herniated disk the sciatic pain I was experiencing was very painful and uncomfortable and I welcomed relief greatly.  I was also very conscious of the fact that I did not want to stay on them for long.  It can't be easy to reconcile, this tension that has edged more dangerously into the realm of real contention - will of mind over body.  While the battle rages on now in the courts, I have come to realize that we are all dealing with different kinds of pain.  Life has its' own continuum and we are all on that scale somewhere suffering in our own ways.

Losing someone dear can be all-consuming.  Losing a friend, or loved one is impossible to sort through without feeling an enormous set of emotions that run the gamut of pain levels.  

“
We all lose friends.. we lose them in death, to distance and over time. But even though they may be lost, hope is not. The key is to keep them in your heart, and when the time is right, you can pick up the friendship right where you left off. Even the lost find their way home when you leave the light on.                                                                               
 Marie Walz

I have a dear friend in Argentina that lost a son a couple of months ago.  I try and think about losing any one of my four kids and I literally lose my mind trying to think about processing that prospect.... It is literally a mindscathing agony.... I can't do it.   I hope to never know what she is still going through.....

Is losing a friend to hurt feelings that much different than losing someone to death?  

“

We call that person who has lost his father, an orphan; and a widower that man who has lost his wife. But that man who has known the immense unhappiness of losing a friend, by what name do we call him? Here every language is silent and holds its peace in impotence.     

Joseph Roux

What pain are you experiencing right now? What is your pain on a scale of 1 to 10?  Is it on the surface of your skin, pulsating through your nerves, aching in your muscles or is the deep hurt in your heart?  I know you are experiencing some level of it right now, in your individual way that no one will probably ever understand...  I wish I could help....

It is ever-present and seems to be lurking around corners ready to surprise anyone.  

I have been reflecting on the role pain plays in our lives.  I think there is more to it than I realized.....
It seems that on one end it the spectrum, at least one of its purposes is to alert of us trouble. It lets us know there is something wrong.  The more I have thought about it, I think pain is the great protector in our lives. it keeps us whole, it keeps us safe, it keeps us aware and careful.....This is a good thing.

Here is how I have been processing it:

The ache in my stomach tells me I have eaten something bad.... the ache in my back tells me to lay down, the ache in my hand tells me to let go, the ache in my side tells me to slow down, the ache in my head tells me to sleep, or stop thinking so hard...  As for the ache in my heart, at times it reminds me that I have loved and have lost.  That I have been misunderstood....or that I just haven't been "seen" yet for all that I truly am.  This deep pain could also mean a reflection of a truly amazing season, cosmic and magical but has slowly faded into a faint memory that seems like a whisper....hard to hold onto, like slippery rope.   Maybe the pain is "saudade", a strong longing for the nostalgic past that feels like a constant, dull melancholic pain because it will never be reached or lived again...?

There are those moments when it hurts with such intensity that you can't get what you need to out...there are just no words, no vocabulary, no voice.  But it is clear inside your heart and only you know how it feels, but just can't describe well enough.  The memory stings some and chokes you up.

What about the agony of not knowing,  or ignorance...... Is that really bliss?  Only to find out "later"....much later that you should have known something sooner....'cause it would have really helped.  There is the pain of not being able to go back, to rewind the tape, stop those stupid words from flowing forth...... Or trying to restrain the rising rage of being 'right' with the wrong volume, or to refrain from the choices that led to tears and misery.

There is no nobleness in suffering, but there is purpose in pain....... it seeks us out and we seem to hide from it.... behind corners, in the dark.  We soften our minds with amber-colored liquids and little pills from pretty packaged bottles from wrong places....we blur it out, 'cause we are afraid.  We can't stand the thought that we could be so human, so fragile and vulnerable.  Pain is the ultimate seeker.....and yet when it finds us, we so often cannot accept it's gift of knowledge and truth, no matter how scalding it is.  It is the mirror of what has happened, what is happening now and protects us from the future...
One can never know the magnitude of reconciliation unless the gap of loss is too great to understand, unless the pain be too precisely profound.... and true.  The agony and ecstasy of pain hitting its' true mark....
 
I love people who have learned from their pain.  They have mastered it.  They don't play the useless game of wishing it away, or hoping it will never come, or the dangerous game of "what if" or regret.... Pain always comes to visit, and for too many it seems to linger too long.... So, 'Bravo' to those who bear it so well and have let it guide them towards light instead of fear.  We are all watching you and hoping we can be as brave... 

"Your pain is the breaking of the shell that encloses your understanding."

"Even as the stone of the fruit must break, that its' heart may stand in the sun, so you must know pain."                                                                     --Gibran

Who is this Man...?

Who is this man.....a farmer's son from nowhere Arizona that had deep passion for classical Spanish literature?

A man who related to the stories of El Cordobes, Don Quixote and others.... A man who ALWAYS cheered for the underdog, the one who no one thought could...or should succeed.  The fight of the individual to overcome all obstacles was very important and became part of this man.... it became part of how he viewed the eternal potential of every individual.  He not only appreciated it, he counted on that philosophy really working!  It was a new truth among many others he adopted and treasured throughout his life.

This man reminds me of the great Cordobes....unorthodox and special.  Spain's greatest bullfighter, who brought his own particular flair.  He came from poverty, but dreamed about all possibilities.  He wanted to be the best and became that.  The people loved him, the purists hated him.  He fought against Franco's tyranny.....No wonder my Dad loved this story.  His deep empathy for the story of Don Quixote was apparent throughout my life....statues, paintings, music and books were a constant in my youth as I would see and think about them around the house.  It was only when I read "I'll Dress you in Mourning" that I began to understand many things about him:

"Don't cry, Angelita.  Tonight I'll buy you a house, or I'll dress you in mourning."

Who is this man that built his life upon the adoration of another man, his father.....familiar with dirt, grime and sweat?  yes... even a modern day Don Quixote in a way... I used to wonder why this story mattered to him.... I have learned that it does not matter whether Don Quixote is a burlesque story of chivalry, or whether the hero is a madman or an actor.  What matters is that he is set free in our imaginations and discovers for us a new quality about the human spirit. My father understood this and shared this soaring view of man.

No wonder this man could only see in others what they "could" become.  I believe I now finally understand where 'hurting good' originated.

This man is a simple man who imaginated a vision, a vision that transformed his life from a high school Spanish teacher in a small hot desert town to a man who traveled the world bringing big ideas and new ways of thinking to inspire entire countries.  And guess what.... I actually got to watch from a front row seat... it was amazing!

Who is this man... that so beautifully paints life's stories with the color of words in poetry? Words that are known to all, but somehow when he puts them together, they weave a richer tapestry than most.  This man, who breathes wisdom with his words casting them out like a vast fishing net at sea yielding a harvest of so many the nets can't hold them all.

Who is this man.... that quietly, but incessantly pushes boundaries, to find that better way....always making things simpler?

Who is the man..... with a second grader's innocent and simple faith, that overcame barriers to bring truth and light, in places where there was none?

How did he know that constant stretching was the stuff life was made of, not the cushy convenience of "good enough"....?

This man who can sit and simmer, yes even soak in the absolute miracle and beauty of his posterity.  Every new soul that that comes into his line adds to the awe with which he beholds and views each one.

Who is this man who sits with childlike amazement and wonder when any one of his posterity begins to show what they are capable of doing... each step they take forward seems to take his breath away.

A man who knows precisely who he is, where he came from and who he belongs to.  A man with singleness of purpose that would make most men weak in the knees....his aim....laser-like, focused and precise.  And the grandness of his ideas..? They are a wonder.

He will never stop cheering for all the Don Quixote's in the world... he will never believe there are limitations to free will.  He is a passionate fighter of freedom.... a lover of truth.

Who is this man.... who could do almost anything he set his mind to, yet knew from 2nd grade that he could never get to his final destination without relying on Heaven to get there?

He is my Hero...   He is a Savior of men, because the depth of his testament of Jesus Christ has been etched, like permanent ink, in his heart.  His living will and testament is not on paper... it is written, etched and burned into the cells of his beating heart.  

He cannot and will not be denied the realization of his heart's true burning desire to usher all who follow him into God's eternal embrace.

And yet at the end of the day... When all the planes stop... the traveling has ended... no more cultures, countries and customs to learn....there is one last stamp of one last visa that he dreams of:

Little Green Valley

I see a candlelight down in the little green valley

Where morning glory vines are twining 'round my door

Oh, how I wish I were there again down in the little green valley

That's where my homesick heart will trouble me no more

There's only one thing ever gives me consolation

And that's the thought that I'll be going back someday

And every night down upon my knees I pray the Lord to please take me

Back to that little old green valley far away

I hear a mockingbird down in the little green valley

He's singing out a song of welcome just for me

And someone waits by the garden gate down in the little green valley

When I get back again, how happy she will be

And by a little babbling brook, once more we'll wander

And in a shady nook, we'll dream the hours away

And I will leave all my cares behind go where I know I'll find sunshine

Back to that little old green valley far away

This man is my father... a man who makes God's heart 'hurt good.'

Peachy Keen....

I opened up FB tonight and saw this staring me in the face... 

FB decided to remind me of this post  I made when I heard that my brother Roland had beaten cancer.  It was truly a glorious day!  An answer to many prayers.... 

4 months later he passed away from the same disease that came back with a ravaging rage...

Finding it hard to take my eyes off of his image...Looking at him as if he is right there, right now, present--me looking into his eyes wondering when I can talk to him again.....

Peachy keen?   Not so sure....


I miss him.... very much.  

That is all....