Caution: Change Curve Ahead

 Oh Mercy!  We have had it too good I think.....  To have all your grown kids so close to home is a treasure.  I never knew how long that would last.    I am finding out just how long right now......

 I will say we have tried our best to keep them close to,  Gather oft.....   

The word Gather has had new meaning for us in the past few years, especially during COVID.  We understand and believe in Gathering.  It is happening all over the world in a variety of ways.  We have tried to make the most of what and who we can gather in our small circle of the world. We have had some amazing times together and places we have traveled together.  One of the constants has been Landon, very present. 

He left today for his next big thing --Med school.  We knew this date was coming, but we weren't ready for that jagged little pill.  Mom's dose was a little unfair... bigger, more jaggedy, more painful.  Somehow in all the jaggedy-ness, the good part of the hurt eventually won the day.  That put us quickly into the "Valley of Despair" on the Emotional Change curve.

Landon is a great gatherer.  He specializes in them.  He gathers his friends, he gathers his siblings, he gathers his family.  The idea that they won't happen very often now seems unbearable.

Yet....there has to be a transition.  Milestone markers in our life's highway that define measures of distance- and hopefully progression as well.

The mile marker right now for Landon is Med school.  A significant milestone.  One might say a life changing one.  One that will present the most challenge and stretch of his intellectual life, in all the right ways.  Is he ready?  On paper I would say absolutely Yes!  It has been a long wait and he is well prepared.  I could also say is being ready for med school like being ready to have your first kid..... Who is ready for that?  Most of us not I think.  Much like raising a little kid, you just figure it out.  You lower your head, commit and lead with your heart and hope like crazy that you don't mess up too much.  I wouldn't be surprised if he feels the exact same way about school.  

We know something he doesn't though.... We can see a bit further down the road than maybe he can.  While he might contemplate all the things he needs to do, we know all the things that he will become, at least in our mind's eye we do.  I wonder what God sees?  

I got a glimpse as I put my hands on his head and gave him a father's blessing.  Precious glimpses into eternity, of what could be.

We will miss the innovative, creative flavored soda's, the fast food runs, the golfing fun, the games, the travels, the laughter, the crazy dancing, the incessant impromptu soccer games, pickleball, Mario Kart, guitar songs, the movies and the great talks.  We ended with Italy.... what an amazing trip.  It wouldn't have been the same without you.  Memories that we  will live of off in between seeing you occasionally.

So, as we slowly draw back this arrow, that is you, and as we try to hold as steady of a bow as we can as we release that arrow, with all our hopes and dreams packed with you in flight, knowing the direction is sure and the target is right, the words of Gibran come flooding through.  Know our love is profound and know we have exceeding faith that you will be all you are needed to be.

 

Your children are not your children.

They are the sons and daughters of Life's longing for itself.

They come through you but not from you,

And though they are with you yet they belong not to you.

You may give them your love but not your thoughts,

For they have their own thoughts.

You may house their bodies but not their souls,

For their souls dwell in the house of tomorrow,

which you cannot visit, not even in your dreams.

You may strive to be like them,

but seek not to make them like you.

For life goes not backward nor tarries with yesterday.

You are the bows from which your children

as living arrows are sent forth.

The archer sees the mark upon the path of the infinite,

and He bends you with His might

that His arrows may go swift and far.

Let your bending in the archer's hand be for gladness;

For even as He loves the arrow that flies,

so He loves also the bow that is stable.

Milan

 

The trip to Italy began in Milan.  Directly from the airport we went to the Duomo.  We didn't waste a second.  We wanted to soak as much in as we could.

All roads lead to Doumo's in Italy.  Cathedrals seem to be at the center of most large cities. 

No one was in line.  It was hot, but the heat felt good.  Perspiring in Italy was entirely going to be ok.

The walking tour up to the roof of the cathedral was incredible.  Once of the most beautiful Gothic churches I have seen.  Walking across the parapets with the view of the square and dotted people below was grand.  I have never been able to do that with other cathedrals. You appreciate the centuries of work as well as the careful restoration that has been done.

If only Notre Dame had that.....

The myriad of spires had saints or historical figures standing on each point.  Very nonchalantly overseeing things.  Less guarding, more pondering.

The architecture was so intricate, the details were mind numbingly beautiful.  And to think this huge gargantuan mammoth was made of marble.

Walking through the buttresses was amazing.  Being able to touch the stone and marble was a nice add.

Being able to actually walk on top of the cathedral was really cool.  No one from the street can see you, but you can look down and see all that is happening on the square below as well as as see the cityscape.

Milan is majestic.

It was fashion week and we think we saw Justin Bieber, but we decided after debate that probably wasn't him.  But we ate the best panzerotti's in the worlds at Luini's.  That started our taste buds going crazy for Italian food.   The gelato was some of the best in Italy.

As you can see, there was hardly anyone there.  We picked a great time to visit.....

Lake Como is next....!

Memento Vivere

TUSCANY

Italy always seemed dreamy to me.  Different than how Germany and France have their particular allure and beauty.  Maybe my imagination got the best of me because it took me so long to get there.   I have often wondered what it would be like to finally taste its' magnificent food, wander the hills of Tuscany, see the Vatican, Lake Como and hike the Dolomites....... and finally see with my own eyes the works of Michelangelo and Leonardo and many of their friends.  To feel the history would be amazing....Italy has been on my bucket list forever.  It no longer is... I finally made it.

It was actually dreamier than I thought it could be....

I have always loved Italian food.  I just love red sauce and pasta as a starting place.  Then there is so much more to experience beyond it's culinary delights.  Architecture, art, geography and history to name a few...

"Under the Tuscan Sun" has been a fun favorite of mine.  Diane Lane was great in the role.  The idea that a tourist can buy an aging villa spontaneously while on vacation and then have these amazing experiences fixing it up and meeting interesting people I am sure has caused many viewers to fantasize of doing the same.  I can now say that it is magnified 10X after actually being in Tuscany first hand.

 

The other one, is "Gladiator", which is one of my all time favorite movies.  Russel Crowe's character is from Tuscany.  Many of the dream sequences from the movie showed this rustic countryside, elegantly dressed with fields of gold wheat, Cyprus lined cart paths and medieval looking villas on tops of hills.

The movie definitely whetted my appetite considerably.  But, I have also longed to see original works of the masters--Michelangelo, Leonardo, Donatello, Raphael etc....  

These movies do a wonderful job of showing the region of Tuscany in particular.  While there is much more to write about Italy,  Tuscany has its' own brand of magic. 

Val D'Orcia

I am hard pressed to only write a few words about this place.  There aren't enough words to describe it's medieval haunting beauty.  It is best experienced by car or bike.  To roam the hills is extraordinary.  To go off the beaten track is exquisite.  We did both! 

One experience that became a catalyst to see Italy was the movie "Gladiator".  It struck me on many levels, but one scene that was particularly striking that left a lingering memory was a dream sequence when Russell Crowe, sees himself walking through fields of gold on his way back to his villa in Tuscany.  The incredible soundtrack from Hans Zimmer and vocals from Lisa Gerrard are still at the top of my all time favorite list.  I remember thinking, I must see Tuscany.   

As we drove south into the region from Florence we came across this small grove of cyprus trees off to the side of the road.  Two cars had stopped there and people were taking pictures.  We decided to stop too.  They looked local so we knew something was cool about this place.  We just happened to come across this very well known old, old grove of trees that was protected with a fence around them.  They were unusually placed without any other trees close by and they just looked amazing.  

Landon had brought his vintage polaroid camera and took this shot which gave this image such and distinctive timeless old look.  Google Val D'Orcia and you will see more images.

The trees looked strong, but isolated at the same time.  This valley is full of all kinds of treasures like these trees.

We came across this incredible structure minutes after getting our e-bikes. Chapel of the Madonna di Vitaleta.  A very small little church in the middle of nowhere. It is quaint and sits atop a hill overlooking the valley.  So simple and unassuming you forget how famous it is.

The e-bike adventures was a very unique and special way to see this valley.s

It was amazing to finally be there.  It was everything I imagined but more.  The drive through Tuscany from Florence was incredible. 

We explored and wandered down fields like this of lavender and gold, hills filled with Cyprus trees lined driveways to medieval villas dotting the landscape.   And to think this is their farmlands.  Compared to the classic red barn and corn fields of Nebraska, it just didn't even seem fair.

“Melancholy skies

and empty fields of gold

grey clouds

and emeralds days

our love in pieces

captured only by poems (of mine).”

― Laura Chouette

I never thought I would find the exact spot where that scene was shot, and I didn't really think I would find myself in fields of gold re-enacting that dream walk of his.    But I did!  With Landon's help, he located the spot near a small town called Pienza.  It was a bit of a walk but so worth it.  As soon as we came upon it it was recognizable.  It was a very cool feeling to be there at about 8pm, near dusk, so quiet, very warm and incredibly picturesque.

We were the only ones there....It was one of those timeless moments where you can sit and soak for a long time.  

There was only one more thing to do.....to complete the moment, to 'matar' the 'saudade' once and for all....

..... Which was to wade out there and pretend to be Russell Crowe for just a minute.  Ha!  So silly but really romantic in an idealistic way.  I had to do it right?  I really dressed well for the occasion too I think.

Landon took the shot and closed the deal.... 

 I will always be glad for that mad dash run/hike to find it before the sun set.  Pretty sure I would have passed if Landon hadn't made it happen. 

Thanks Landon for helping me crush a timeless moment and making a small fantasy come true!

We ended the day finding this really small, hole in the medieval wall restaurant in Pienza.  We ate some food that I don't think we would find anywhere else and this was filled with locals while many other restaurants were empty due to the ravages of COVID.

It was one of the most pleasant and spiritually renewing days I have had.  It is pretty hard when reality actually beats out the imagination.  That rarely occurs but it did happen on this day to me.

Cyrpus trees stand like sentinels on the hillside as if guarding something sacred from the past. Constantly watching, constantly aware, constantly maintaining vigil.

“Pilgrims"

Tuscan reds and ochre hues

Olive greens and skies of blue

Sunlit valleys full of charm

Secluded homestead and hilltop farm

Over hills skim birds in flight

Aromas whet the appetite

Autumn rustle fills the air

Revealing grace of trees laid bare

Pathways meander through the vale

Inviting travelers its height to scale

Sunset rewards as evening ends

And pilgrims to the night descend”

― Collette O'Mahony,

Blindspots

 The irony didn't hit me until about episode 4 or 5 of "The Dog Whisperer."  

Don't ask me why I started watching this series.....I didn't grow up with dogs and so it makes my watching it even more puzzling. How I became fascinated with this particular show I can't say except there was something quite remarkable about Cesar Milan and his ability to help solve a variety of "dog problems".  

It was after when Cesar said he said that what he does has little to do with the dogs and a lot more about training the humans. It seemed subtle, but that hit me. 

When I heard those words that something clicked inside.  I instantly recognized my attraction.  It was exactly that.... that what he was doing was using his knowledge of dogs to help train, discipline and rehabilitate the human.....interesting. It wasn't really about the dogs so much.

It changed how I watched all subsequent episodes. I began focusing through a different lens to watch him do his thing. The irony is that the human owners really didn't see it that often.  They didn't know they were paying Cesar to help them vs their dog.  They only saw the different behavior of the dog vs. their own.  They knew they had to do different things, put new habits into place, but I am not sure how often they realized that they were the cause of their poor dogs behavior. 

I loved that idea....  The seemingly mystifying "dog magic" was really about intuitive sense of people who had the wrong mindset, belief windows and behaviors that was causing a variety of problems with their dogs.  They often were at their wits end and desperate for some relief.  They often couldn't just see their own blindspots.

I completely realize this show is not shattering revelation to most people.  I am actually probably catching up with everyone else--Yes, slow poke.  What I loved being reminded of is that those dog owners are just like us, even if we don't have dogs.  The idea that we all need to have someone see us for who we are and then at times, when we really need it to be open to feedback.  

How often are we causing grief for others and we don't even know we are the cause?  Are we those parents causing unnecessary interference for our kids?  Do we think we are always right?  Do we feel justified in our friendships and other relationships or would it be helpful to have a "Cesar Milan" in our lives show up and be able to point things out to us, in a helpful way that we just can't see?  Maybe a peek into a mirror to get sense of equilibrium and truth.  We may not always like what we hear or see.  We sometimes won't face the pain because the truth may hurt too much. What are the implications if we don't?  Do we pay much more later as a result of postponing a change of heart, a belief or changing a particular behavior?

It is incredible to see how the human dog owners show up with so much more happiness, confidence and spirit when after a few adjustments, the so called bad behavior of the dog no longer exists.  It is a beautiful thing to see....  

I think that is why I relate to the humanness of these non-human shows... We identify with the tears, the fears and the dreams they all have. We want their success maybe because we secretly believe we can also win in our own little circles of life, whether that be a dog, horse or cat.  They are just metaphors for learning more about ourselves and trying to improve all the while.

It is ironic that we can't seem to get through this life just by ourselves as well as when we are open to others helping us. Thank heaven for people with talent to see in us what we can't.  And the courage they show to tell it like they see it.  Even if they aren't always right, it is helpful to see a different point of view. 

Is it not a beautiful think to feel the reward of having someone point something out that you do so well that you never thought was there or would have ever believed was possible? Or to show the mirror back to you about something you did that got in the way that you didn't know you were doing?  Kind of like having your foot caught in a trap that you couldn't free yourself from alone.  Then feeling the release of such a prison, by letting yourself listen, letting the feedback enter your mind, trickle down to your heart and then to feel the honesty and truth.  Then hopefully , letting yourself to actually believe it and see different results.....

Pretty powerful magic.....

I wonder if the world could use a little more Cesar Milan.

Hmmm.....Maybe I will get a dog afterall.

 

Mom

Hi Mom,

It's been a while.  But your birthday was just here and I found some time to sit back and think about you. 

I went to this portrait Roland was inspired to draw you the morning you passed into the next life.  I love looking at you.  I see so many of your grandkids in your countenance. 

I like to think that your asthma was bothering you too much back then.  You had all the energy of a dancing sprite would need to have.  I think about where you have fixed your gaze.  It must be a place of light because that is where your spirit always was--in Light, even when you weren't always surrounded by it, it was what always brought you back.

I miss your expressiveness.  I miss watching you look at others and feeling so many strong feelings.  I miss when you would put the edge of your bic pen up against your bottom lip when you were deep in thought.  I miss how you would wipe your mouth quickly with both hands before giving a kiss... even if there wasn't anything there to wipe away.  Always ready to hug, to love and to encourage and support.....No matter what.  

I miss our talks.  You were always so easy to share with.  You listened......You often fumbled for answers, thinking you needed to always have the right ones, but you were a beautiful listener.  

I miss going to McDonalds and always getting most of your fries!  You loved the Filet-o'fish.  It because of you I still get those once in a while. And just like you, I still get a little splotch of tartar sauce on me somewhere.

I miss hearing your stories of how you grew up and how fond you were of your Dad. 

I miss coming home--where ever that was, from college to spend time with you and Dad.  I felt as comfortable hanging out with you than any of my friends.  Going shopping, meeting new people that you liked so much.  Watching great shows and playing games.  You made it hard to want to go back... I always wanted to linger.....

I was thinking about if you were here today what would life be like?  There are some things that would blow your mind.  The mass success of your posterity is mind numbing.  Dad could barely take it in before he left.  I think you must be in awe even now looking down.  While I thought there would be so many wonderful things about you being here I was reminded of what state you might be in and I can't see anything good with that.  I secretly always hoped you wouldn't have to find your amazing spontaneous soul being confined by the confounding corrosive disease that you spent your entire life trying to ignore and conquer.  I don't know if I would be a terrible person to think that it was a tender mercy of God to take you when He did.  Was it too early?  Yes, for sure.  Would I have wanted many more years?  Yes, to see and know my incredible kids..... yet, I hesitate because that is the selfish me wanting that.  To believe that you are still part of all of our lives brings me enormous peach of mind.  In some ways, I feel that you are able to enjoy them even more without the debilitating demon of a partner that you had causing you to always wonder when you might be fighting for your next breath.

I am grateful to have had one small moment with you since then.... You know what I am talking about too... I will never forget that day.   I  hold that experience so dear to my heart.  It was enough to give me a glimpse into who you really are.  The person I knew here wasn't everything I thought you were after all.  You are strong, confident, full of spirit and even keeled in knowing who you are.  You are busy doing good.  

You were a great Mom and always will be.  You enabled me to be the person I am becoming.  I couldn't have reached where I am without you.  No way....  

Keep smiling Mom, keep teaching, keep watching over us....  We need you more than ever!

Happy birthday!

 

Beauty doesn't fade

 I find it extraordinary that beauty can be defined in so many ways.  It can be found in a variety of literal, symbolic and metaphysical definitions. I have been thinking about what beauty is to me, my own definition and where the source of that meaning comes from.  

Like many, over the years, I have tried to develop a deeper appreciation for what is beautiful that doesn't come from purely a physical phenomena.  I have glimpsed more deeply beyond the surface and consider what else is going on that isn't just "skin deep."

Have you ever known very attractive people that seem by all cultural standards seem to fit a certain definition of what beautiful is and then through observing their character and actions their "physical" beauty doesn't seem to be so alluring after all?.... Have you ever noticed how quickly that can change your perspective...Like literally in 5 seconds?

And what about the converse situation-the one where you see someone that may not fit that same physical definition of beautiful but as you take a deeper look, and wander around in their heart and observe the way they think, the way they see the world, the way they treat others, you find that their physical beauty seems to grow in leaps and bounds?  I find the irony so fascinating.... and so...... beautiful itself.

I learned this recently again.... 

Someone I became acquainted with didn't dress right, didn't have all the emotional intelligence skills, they suffered with some social skills and seemed to have imperfect timing of telling a joke that wasn't really funny but didn't know it.  They wouldn't probably be posting a lot of selfies on Instagram let's say...  I remember framing a certain perspective of this person over some period of time and felt I had them "pegged."  It was during a trust building game at work when I learned the hardships this person had experienced and overcome during their life.  They never knew their parents, went through the foster care system with 3 different families.  Never had lunch money for school. Didn't have the resources that most others had.  I learned they had a younger sister that had to be watched over as well.  This person would bring popsicles in a portable thermos freezer to school and sell them to kids to get lunch money for the both of them.  The foster parents never knew.  They managed to graduate from high school and then somehow managed to put themselves through college and received a degree.  They were painfully aware of their poor communication skills and were deathly afraid of speaking to others.  So in college this person intentionally took a comedy improvisation class to force herself to face inherent fears of public speaking and being put on the spot.  This was all told during different rounds of this game.  I listened very intently and literally before the end of the game I saw something completely different than when I started.  I noticed there wasn't a hint of victim stance, no martyr behavior, no complaints, no "woe is me" talk.  Just straightforward sharing..... I was blown a way.  I felt a bit ashamed of how I had so quickly formed those opinions.  I felt the lump in the throat come as I listened and tried to imagine challenges that I will never understand or known in my life.  I saw courage,  bravery, and commitment that was uncommon.   I saw this incredibly beautiful person instead.  

Beauty cannot be objectified or envisioned—it must be understood, felt.

I find it ironic that I can't see my own beauty as much as I can see yours....In fact, I may go to great lengths to dismiss it, not even letting myself tinker with the idea. It has something to do with not being able to accept compliments in a way that is truly believing.  If we did, we would just say "Thank you" and be done with it.  But, if you are like me, I find myself weaving some long-winding tapestry of unhelpful dialogue that attempts to pass it off as something that isn't really part of me, like it was a fluke or something that would never really show up again.  I want to say that I am getting better at not doing this.  I have developed a keener sense that when I do it is not a beautiful thing.  It gets in the way of the reality that there is beauty in offering an honest and authentic compliment.  It is not a graceful thing to not accept that, despite our own misgivings or disagreement.  Even that is ironic.....

It is very interesting to learn that so many apparently "attractive" people almost never believe it.  It isn't actually helpful to tell them or remind them.  It almost seems like a burden they bear most of their lives because they have bought into a definition the world has imposed or determined is accurate.  They even might believe that they are not worthy of the love that they are deserving of because they do not see their own beauty in a holistic spiritual way. 

I know many that would hold onto their physical appearance with all their might, such as they go to great lengths to stay the hands of father time as if engaged in an inevitable elusive tug-of-war with each tick tock of the clock. Is there anything wrong with that?  No, of course not.  I think how we take care of ourselves if vitally important for our own self-worth. It builds confidence that can enhance the beautiful things that we think, say and do.

And a poet said, Speak to us of Beauty.

     And he answered:

     Where shall you seek beauty, and how

shall you find her unless she herself be your

way and your guide?

     And how shall you speak of her except

she be the weaver of your speech?

Beauty doesn't fade... it gets revealed through our dispositions, attitudes and actions.  It only fades if we stop being who we are and we give into the wrong definitions.  

 People of Orphalese, beauty is life when

life unveils her holy face.

     But you are life and you are the veil.

     Beauty is eternity gazing at itself in

 a mirror.

     But you are eternity and you are 

the mirror.

It only fades if you want it to.... I choose to always see the beauty in you.

The Hearts We Handle

 

I don’t think I will ever stop thinking—or writing—about friendship.

It has been an essential thread in the fabric of my life. There is nothing quite like the feeling when we get friendship right…and nothing quite like the pain when we get it wrong.

No matter which side we are on.

The hurt deliverer.

The hurt receiver.

Is it possible to be both at the same time?

I think it is.

Maybe that is one of the hardest truths about friendship. We can genuinely love another person and still wound them. We can feel injured by something they did while remaining painfully aware that we have also contributed to the distance between us.

Neither person feels completely innocent.

Neither person feels completely understood.

That is not the kind of “hurts good” I have written about before. There is nothing especially noble or beautiful about watching a meaningful friendship slip quietly toward the edge.

Sometimes a friendship changes without either person announcing that it has changed.

A message goes unanswered.

An invitation does not come.

Something once said easily becomes difficult to say.

One person grows quieter. The other notices but does not ask why. Both wait for the other to cross the distance…and eventually the distance itself becomes the message.

How does that happen?

Why do we push away people we genuinely love?

Maybe we do it because friendship feels like an investment, and meaningful investment always carries risk. We fear putting more into the relationship than we will receive. We worry that we care more deeply than the other person does. We hesitate to show how much the friendship matters because doing so gives another person the power to hurt us.

So we protect ourselves.

We step back before they can.

We create the very distance we are afraid they might create.

Sometimes we push people away because we do not know what we want—or even who we are becoming.

We convince ourselves that we should have everything figured out. We want our decisions to make sense. We want our lives to follow logical timelines and reach responsible benchmarks. We want our families to believe we are doing well and our friends to think we know where we are going.

But we do not always know.

We lose our sense of direction. We become uncertain about which path to take, and we assume no one else could possibly understand the confusion inside us.

Figuring life out can be lonely…but it does not always have to be.

Isn’t that partly what friends are for?

Friends may not be able to choose the road for us, but perhaps they can walk beside us while we search for it. They can remind us that uncertainty does not make us unworthy of companionship.

And yet fear has a strange way of convincing us that no one will ever understand.

So we create our own belief windows about why other people do what they do. We assign motives that were never voiced. We take silence and give it meaning. We interpret hesitation as rejection and distance as proof that the friendship was never as real as we thought.

But we do not see motives.

We see only their shadows reflected through behavior.

Behaviors do send messages, of course. Active ones do…and apparently passive ones do too. Silence affects people. Absence communicates something, even when it was never intended to communicate anything at all.

But the message received is not always the message sent.

Sometimes we push friends away because we quietly believe that we do not deserve them.

We wonder whether they need something we cannot provide. We compare what they offer with what we believe we bring and conclude that the exchange is uneven.

They are too good.

Too patient.

Too accomplished.

Too full of life.

Why would someone like that continue to choose someone like me?

We begin to wonder whether our presence makes their life better or heavier. We ask whether they would be happier, freer, or more complete without the burden of trying to understand us.

Instead of allowing them to answer, we answer for them.

We retreat.

Maybe we tell ourselves it is an act of generosity. Maybe we think we are releasing them from something difficult.

But perhaps we are simply afraid that if they examine us too closely, they will eventually reach the same conclusion we have already reached about ourselves.

So we leave first…even when neither person really wants to go.

Sometimes the pushing becomes a test.

Will they come after me?

Will they notice I am gone?

Will they fight for the friendship?

Is their affection real—or was it fake all along?

But what if the real test is not whether they follow us?

What if the real test is whether the push itself was real?

Do we truly want them to leave…or are we hoping they will somehow hear the unspoken request underneath our behavior?

Please understand me.

Please reassure me.

Please don’t give up on me.

That is a dangerous way to communicate love.

Perhaps instead of testing whether someone will leave, we could simply allow them to stay. We could speak more honestly about our fears. We could meet one another where we actually are—not where we think the other person should be and not only under conditions designed to make us feel safe.

There is also an important difference between pushing someone away as a test and establishing a necessary boundary.

Love does not require us to accept cruelty, manipulation, abuse, or continual disregard. A boundary can protect what is good in us without requiring hatred toward the person on the other side of it.

Maybe a boundary says:

I cannot continue in this pattern.

I cannot pretend this does not hurt.

I cannot give you the same access to my life while this remains unchanged.

But it does not have to say:

You never mattered.

I hope you suffer.

Nothing between us was real.

That distinction matters.

I think about the way Christ loved.

His love was unconditional, but it was never without truth. He extended mercy without pretending that choices did not matter. He invited repentance. He honored agency. He corrected people, withdrew at times, and allowed some to walk away.

But He never began with:

“If they do this, then I will love them.”

Love simply flowed from Him.

Even while being crucified, He asked the Father to forgive those who tortured Him because “they know not what they do.”

What kind of mercy is that?

Can we do that?

You and I are not Christ. We find ourselves painfully bereft at times of the grace required to love one another that way.

With our collective insecurities, doubts, fears, and idiosyncrasies, we blunder through relationships—hoping we get more right than wrong while knowing that none of us is batting anywhere close to perfection.

Perhaps Christlike love does not require us to remove every boundary.

Perhaps it asks us to keep hatred from becoming one of them.

I pray that I will be as merciful as I can and extend as much grace as possible to people who are special to me—even when they disappoint or hurt me, intentionally or otherwise.

I also pray that others might extend that grace to me.

I will not survive without it.

I have wronged people in my life, and despite my best intentions, I will probably do so again. I have misunderstood motives, allowed fear to direct my behavior, remained quiet when I should have spoken, and spoken when silence might have been kinder.

I hope I can forgive myself for those moments.

I hope the people I have hurt can forgive me too.

But I am learning that repentance, forgiveness, reconciliation, and restored trust are not the same thing.

Repentance is the work I must do.

Forgiveness belongs to the person who was injured and cannot be demanded on my timetable.

Reconciliation requires both people.

Trust may return slowly…or perhaps not at all.

Some hurts may be beyond our ability to repair. The person we wounded may never allow us the same place in their life again. We do not get to insist that our sorrow should erase their pain.

But even when reconciliation is no longer possible, repentance still is.

We can tell the truth.

We can accept the consequences.

We can offer whatever repair remains possible.

We can become safer, kinder, and more honest.

We can refuse to make the same wound in someone else.

Maybe that is how grace continues its work when a friendship cannot continue in the way we once hoped.

I do not want anyone I have loved to carry an unnecessary burden because of me. But I also understand that I do not get to decide what another person should be ready to release.

All I can do is acknowledge the heart that was placed, however briefly, within my reach—and try to become someone who handles it more carefully.

Perhaps that is friendship’s hardest lesson:

Love does not make us incapable of hurting one another.

It gives us a reason to return with humility when we do.

#Light of the World: The Christ Child

 

I have seen a hundred versions of the nativity in my life.  None have come close to impacting me the way this The Christ Child video has.  I think I have watched it 100 times, trying to absorb it as much as I can.  The acting, the music, and the unusual authentic feel to it make it so relatable that I find myself being drawn in emotionally and spiritually. 

There are a number of production elements that I find inspiring by the director and producer.  One is the fact that there are so few words, in fact when they do speak it is in Aramaic, an almost forgotten language that adds so much depth and meaning to the story.  To me, this is a story of quiet sober profundity.  It is impossible not to think if you were them, what thoughts would be constantly going through your head with almost every passing minute.  The knowing looks that Joseph and Mary share at the very first scene of the video is so hauntingly beautiful it literally steals my breath away.  I love that she has dirt on her face....

They know something that no one else in the world knows or every will.  The tremendous irony, is that they really don't know either....  But what is very clear, is their quiet sense of commitment to this holy and unique process of bringing the Savior of the World, into this world.  The wonderment of what would happen must of been all consuming to them at times and they must have also had enough faith to know that they were never alone as well.

And then the time comes... finally.  She wonders if she is ready.... She looks at him again for reassurance....He is there, all the way.  That is what she needed and then bore through the pain of childbirth.

 Joseph prepares a bed for the baby. He and Mary kneel together at the foot of what looks like an altar, as if offering the baby back to God.  It reminded me that the only gift he asks for is our heart.  Our offering to the altar is a broken heart and a contrite spirit -- one that reveres him enough to be willing to offer up our sins in order to know him. 

I love the looks between the shepherd girl and Mary, which were probably the same age.  The stirring testimony of the wise man that showed in his face overshadowed the incredible abundant gifts he brought. 

I love how this video made me feel and I appreciated every detail that went into it.  I hope you enjoy this as well. 

May this bring a special spirit into your heart and bear witness to you of his divinity and the reality of his life.

Friends....part II

Friends.....!!!  Unspeakable gratitude... 

I wrote about Friendship in a previous post. I am forever wrapped up in them, and them in me. For better or worse, it doesn't matter. It is both the better and worse that makes them so wonderful.

Although I have had many in my life, I have learned more about friendship this past year than in all my life put together. 

Just when I thought I was the "bestest" friend ever to someone, I found out that I was not actually at all.... But to me that means I am trying, not giving up or worse...not doing anything at all. 

I don't believe friendship can be passive. It can be hard and rocky, but that is why we hold hands together over those "speed bumps" and that when the green meadows open up, we can run free through them together as well. I am so grateful to God, for my friends....

Do you have that friend that texts you at 11:00pm and say's "hey, listen to this tune and let me know what you think"  Knowing that I will spend an hour listening to it over and over and then over-analyzing it for deeper meaning and then sharing those insights together.  

Do you have that friend that reminds you to have the best day ever?  That sends pics of their dog laying out by the pool?  That reminds you of a memory that brings back incredible feelings and warmth?

I do... I hope you do too....

I guess the question is, if friendship means that much to me, then am I that friend to them?  COVID is a great excuse to find one that you haven't found for awhile and to renew something great!

Happy meadows friend....!

Unburdened

I hear my phone ping one morning. It is a text from someone listed in my contacts as "Sam X." The text reads:

"Hi Aaron, (I hope this is still your number). This is Sam, your old neighbor on 2nd South in Centerville. I need to run something by you in person if that's possible. Maybe I could swing by some time or meet somewhere. I'll just need a couple of minutes of your time if that's doable. Hope all is well with you and family."

My mind does that rapid rewind to calibrate with the past. Oh yeah. Sam. Super friendly guy from my old neighborhood. Warm, easy to talk to. The kind of neighbor you always meant to visit more than you did.

Obviously, our contact had not been frequent — he didn't even know I had moved away over two years ago. A small flash of guilt. Dang. I should have said goodbye.

The odds of getting a text from Sam were low to begin with. We were friendly but not close. Most of what existed between us came from my side — dropping by, inviting him to things, letting my boys help him with his yard. He was always genuinely glad to see me. But he never initiated. Which is why this text was interesting. He needed to see me in person. That was particularly interesting.

I called him back immediately, told him about our move, caught up quickly. Then I asked how I could help.

He told me simply and humbly that he had spent a lot of time during the past year reflecting on his life, his kids, and his standing with God. This was not a religious man. He was not part of my faith, though he occasionally joined us for social activities or service projects. But the part about his standing with God — that struck me. That he was worried about it.

I made a quiet mental note: When was the last time I was worried about my standing with God?

He continued. "Aaron, I need to clear something up that has been on my conscience for a number of years." I scanned the memory banks quickly. Nothing surfaced. He said: "I made a comment once when you were over for an Easter breakfast — I made a glib remark about you're not having a job at the time, which was disparaging to you in front of others. I have regretted it ever since. I want to tell you that I am sorry."

I remembered vaguely something like that. I didn't remember feeling poorly about it at all. He hadn't known me well enough yet and hadn't really meant anything by it.

I told him quickly — it had no effect on me, I barely remembered it, and I would love for him to forget it ever happened. I thanked him for his courage in calling.

What happened next inside me I wasn't expecting.

I felt a glimpse — just a small moment — of what it might feel like to be Christ. To want immediately, with great energy and great love, to help someone unburden themselves. To want desperately for the weight to just be gone. What He did in that garden so many years ago was exactly this — enabling us to let go, permanently, of the things we carry that were never meant to be permanent.

I almost felt frantic for Sam to never think about this again. I cannot remember being happier to help someone feel lighter. Imagine carrying that for ten years. Maybe you have. I know I have.

"We cannot repent for someone else. But we can forgive someone else, refusing to hold hostage those whom the Lord seeks to set free." — Neal A. Maxwell

It made me think — what if I had been offended by that comment all those years ago? What if I had loaded my own back with unnecessary rocks, nursing that dissatisfaction, letting it canker quietly? I could have been bitter. I could have been hateful. And if I had been that Aaron — would I have accepted his apology? Would I have been able to let go? Would I have even wanted to?

I don't see enough Sam X's in the world right now. People willing to look someone in the eye and put something down. I see the opposite more often — hurt held onto, dissatisfaction kept alive, forgiveness offered in words but never really released. We know which ones those are, don't we. The poisoned apples we keep reaching for. They only hurt us. They only add weight. And yet our grip can be so tight.

We are weak and feeble and terribly insecure, aren't we. But I don't think that makes us bad. It just means we can't do it alone. We need each other. We need a Redeemer. We have one.

Sam's stature grew enormously to me from that one phone call. Here was a man living according to his conscience — not because any religion required it of him, but because he knew it was right. I reminded him that he was following the admonition of the Savior almost to the letter, and how pleased God must be with him.

Yes, he inspired me.

And here is the thing I have sat with ever since. I needed that call just as much as he did. Maybe more. Because Sam didn't just come to be forgiven. He came to remind me what it looks like when someone decides the weight isn't worth it anymore. When someone chooses, quietly and without fanfare, to put it down.

I want to be that person. I think we all do.

I knew it the moment I hung up the phone — Sam called me to unburden himself. And somehow, without either of us planning it, I walked away lighter too.

Isn't that the miracle of it. It cures in both directions.