Desert Wandering

Today my lovely group of ladies talked about deserts. (Not desserts - time to move away from the chocolate. Reading Sunday Scribblings this week was an exercise in self control!)

Nope, today we were talking about dusty, dry, suck the life and joy out of your life deserts. We all agreed that they happen to teach us things, but even the knowledge of this doesn't take away the pain and discomfort that occur through these baren landscapes in our lives. The deserts of broken relationships, financial disasters, chronic illness, loss, grief, disappointment, betrayal - they look different from the outside, but the emotional responses and feelings during these experiences seem to be universal. We are not in control. We can not find our way out on our own. We hurt, we thirst, we panic. We see nothing but dry sand, cragy sharp peaks and waves of heat and dryness in all directions. We would never choose this route, but somehow, we have ended up here - in this parched and cracked landscape, with rocks we stumble on, little resources for us to use for our own survival and elements that work against finding traditional forms of comfort and peace.

What is the purpose of the desert? The desert is where we learn to rely not entirely on ourselves, but on others. For me, the desert is where I have to rely on my God and those who love me to provide. I have to learn (and often relearn) that I am not meant to do it all on my own. In the desert, there are no great cities to build, no deadlines and no expectations other than survival. The desert is not a place of achievement, it is a place of being, a place of reliance on something other than things, a place to learn to trust. Like children on a family vacation, I'm often asking, sometimes even whining, "Are we there yet? How much longer?" My patient Father often answers in his gentle voice, "Not yet, but soon. And it will be worth the wait."

The journey through the desert is not so much about reaching the end and crossing from the dry dusty plain into the lush and blooming savanah, but instead, it's often about who we are when we finally arrive there.

Question: How have you survived (and maybe even thrived?) in the desert times of your life?

The Experiment

Here's my Sunday Scribble. Thank to all who stop by!

April 17
Dear Diary – Great news. Today I was in line at the Sip ‘n Save buying a Diet Coke, bread and deodorant and I saw the most amazing thing. Right there, next to the checkout counter was the answer to all my problems. It was there like a burning bush, an answer to my prayers. In big, bold print on the cover of one of those women’s magazines: “She lost 19 pounds Eating Chocolate”. Well, I can’t begin to tell you how my heart started to flutter and my palms started to sweat. You know dear diary, how I have been working so hard to get ready for that reunion next month. I have been sweating it out on the treadmill at least three times a week and I’m drinking so much water that I can’t seem to go two hours without needing to pee. I’ve passed on the clearance Valentine’s boxes and Easter candy when they were calling my name - even the giant chocolate crosses marked at 75% off. I have missed my friend, my companion, my chocolate - and now – glory be! I can put out the welcome mat for my old friend! I slipped a copy of the magazine onto the conveyor belt and for the sake of preparedness, grabbed 4 York Peppermint Patties as well.

April 30
Dear Diary – Well, after reading the article, I am convinced that I’ve been going about this diet all wrong. Did you know there is actual evidence that chocolate can help you loose weight? There is even a special product called Chocla Slim with chocolate and artichoke powder of all things in it that is supposed to help you loose up to 5 pounds a month. Well, I looked at these little plain squares of chocolate and decided they looked a bit on the boring side. If I’m going to eat chocolate, I’m going to eat CHOCOLATE.

May 1
Dear Diary – Went to a website today called “Chocolate.com”. I never knew there were so many different kinds of chocolate. Can’t believe it but I ordered a $7 candy bar. Here’s the description: Signature D Zebra Bar - Silky smooth coconut cream center with whole Tahitian vanilla beans and a touch of coconut rum. Surrounded by and earthy tasting white chocolate. Can’t wait to try it. Until then, I bought a monster bag of M & M’s to tide me over until it arrives.

May 12
Dear Diary – Well the zebra chocolate bar was nice, but not sure it was worth $7. However, with the candy bar came a beautiful catalogue of their other products. I’m going to order the Signature Sin Collection of truffles from Romanicos Chocolate. This diet is going great! I was a little tired today from staying up late marking the catalogue, so I missed my morning date with the treadmill, but I’m sure I’ll be able to get back on track tomorrow.

May 16
Dear Diary - OK – this chocolate diet is great! I’m waiting to weigh myself to see the results but I’ll tell you, I’ve noticed lots of positive changes. Before, when I used to feel tired and cranky in the afternoons, I’d have to reach for carrots or broccoli to tide me over until dinner, but now that I’m on the chocolate diet – I’ve been reaching for one of my Signature Sin Collection truffles. My favorite are the Fresh Mint – they remind me of my favorite Girl Scout Cookies but classier. They just make me so happy!

May 18
Dear Diary - Stayed home from work today with a touch of the stomach flu. Feeling too crummy to eat, but to keep myself motivated, watched “Chocolat” and my kids copy of “Charlie and the Chocolate Factory”. Funny – didn’t really make be feel any better. Placed another order with Chocolate.com and decided to try a box of “painted assorted chocolates filled with almonds, hazelnut, pistachio and dulcede leche”. (Don’t know what that last thing was but I’m looking forward to trying it out.)

May 24
Dear Diary – The painted chocolate was wonderful. So beautiful it was hard to eat. Got my credit card statement with the chocolate orders and realized that I might have to go back to the check-out displays at the Sip ’n Save for my diet fixes. This gourmet chocolate is putting a serious dent in my budget.

May 31
Dear Diary – Tomorrow is weigh-in day. The reunion is one month from tomorrow and I can’t wait to see how much I’ve lost. It will be great to go shopping for some new clothes! Yesterday I saw the cutest dress the window of this little boutique on Orenco St. It was a flowy number with plumy plums and browns the color of a double tall mocha. I found a great pair of strappy sandals to go with it but I want to wait and see if I’ll be ready to buy the next size down. Maybe I’ll even be able to go down two sizes! Maybe at the reunion, everyone will ask how I look so great and I’ll be able to answer like all the skinny people, “It must just be good genes! Me – I eat chocolate all the time!”

June 2
Dear Diary – Couldn’t write yesterday because I was so upset! I gained 8 pounds on this stupid diet!! What did I do wrong? I guess you can’t believe everything that you read . . .

Poetry Thursday

Here's my contribution to the challenge to put some poetry out there(not sure of the origin or who to thank for this . . .). Sorry, folks, but I love the classics. I'll try to broaden my horizons in the future, but here's my guy Will with Sonnet #60

Like as the waves make towards the pebbled shore,
So do our minutes hasten to their end,
Each changing place with that which goes before,
In sequent toil all forwards do contend.
Nativity, once in the main of light,
Crawls to maturity, wherewith being crowned,
Crooked eclipses 'gainst his glory fight,
And Time that gave doth now his gift confound.
Time doth transfix the flourish set on youth, and delves the parallels in beauty's brow,
Feeds on the rarities of nature's truth,
And nothing stands but for his scythe to mow.
And yet to times in hope my verse shall stand
Praising thy worth, despite his cruel hand.

Let's all hear it for quatrains and couplets! Have a wonderful day!

What I Said and What I Meant

Today we had guest speakers at our small group. They spoke to us on Healthy Communications. As long time friends (I was their daughter's Bible Study leader when she was in High School years ago) I knew they were qualified to speak on the topic. Fourty-four years of marriage and countless hours spent studying marriages, relationships, communication - not to mention the books read and the counsel given on the subject. I was challenged by many things they said but one thing jumped off the carefully laid out page of notes that we were given.

It wasn't a new statistic to me. Having been a small group leader for about 20 years now (on and off) I know I've heard this before but today it was like I was hearing it for the first time again. Communication is comprised of the basic elements of our words (and their meaning) our tone (and it's meaning) and our body language. As a large group we made guesses as to how much of each comprised our efforts to communicate. I was surprised (again) to learn that in face-to-face conversations, only 7% of our meaning is taken from the words we use. 38% of the meaning is taken from the tone of our voice and 55% of our meaning is taken through our body language. When you translate the figures to phone conversations, the tone of voice goes up to a whopping 82% with the actual words only carrying 18% of the message to the person on the other end. (Source: Albert Mehrabian, Ph.D.)

Something in those numbers really struck me today. I love words. I cherish their meanings. I love that they have ordained meaning and implied meaning, that they convey pictures, emotions, ideas, fears, joys, dreams, things that are real and things that are abstract. Today I ended up in the bookstore buying more books (sorry honey if you're reading this!) because of a conversation today where I was challenged with the meaning of a word in our study. I need more words to figure out what that word means. But how does this concept of the message behind the words "translate" when we can't hear with our ears the tone or see with our eyes the body language? Ahhh - this is where we earn our keep as writers; those of us who dabble and those who claim writing with the capital "W" as their livelihood. We have the awesome task of filling in that 38% of tone with language that will bridge the gap. We must draw pictures of the body language that expounds on the meanings of those letters that are strung together with other groups of letters, that form lines of words, that, when strung together, like pearls on a necklace, can create truly beautiful and profound visions of truth, fiction, expression and response.

I am challenged, I am motivated and I am inspired by the writing I have been reading lately in the Sunday Scribblings and the blogs represented by it's participants. I feel like I am learning more and more each day how to fill up those ghostly holes left in our story when we can't physically raise or lower our voice, move our hands in flourish or wink in complicity with our friends and readers. Thanks to all of you who have been teaching me through your stories and your comments!

As many famous rappers have signed off with their own unique tones (and hand gestures?) - "WORD".

Sunday Scribbling on Monday

The evening games had been called for the night. The darkness was not the reason. There were plenty of good games you could play in the dark. Kick the can, hide and seek. They were almost better at night. Really, the best time was dusk. It was light enough to see the best hiding spots, but the gray-blue evening sky would help to hide you from the searcher’s eyes. One of my favorite hiding places worked best when it was dusk. It was one of my old stand-bys, the one I used when I really didn’t want to get caught. The loose hedge of bushy-bushes between the Mitchell’s and the house next door to them offered the perfect hiding place; the perfect size for my wiry 7-year old body. Through the loose branches covered thick with leaves, I could disappear from sight but still see the goings on of the game. I had to be careful though – if you used the good hiding places too often, the bigger kids would find out about them and take them over. I always waited until the other kids had all gone to the man-hole cover in the culdesac to come out of that spot. A good hiding spot in our neighborhood was like gold and I was going to protect mine as long as I could.

Tonight we had been playing kickball in the early evening. Choosing teams and marking the bases with scraps of cardboard. Later in the evening the parents joined the playful games. Mr. Kelley rolled out the volleyball posts secured in truck tires filled with cement and tied the net at each side. The adults began a rousing game of volleyball while the kids sat on sidewalks drinking cokes and eating popsicles to reject the effects of the heavy, humid evening air. We became cheerleaders – hollering and hooting at the saves and spikes that our parents showed off. It was so much fun, I looked up to the night sky to find a star. I wanted to throw up a wish that every night could be like this.

Looking up, there were no stars in the sky. Instead, dark clouds filled with heat and moisture decided to answer me instead. Low rumbles began to fill the air and as the parents paused the game for a water break, flashes of lightning danced in the distance. The magical spell was broken and quickly, the parents moved out of “play” mode and into “protect”. The net was quickly taken down and the volleyball posts returned to Mr. Kelly’s garage. A few more quick words between kids and parents as the rumbling grew louder and impatient and zig-zags of light were seen in the sky. Kids were whisked inside and the games for the night were over. I begged my dad to watch the storm with me. Together we sat in the garage with the door open and the lights off, watching the fierce mid-west summer storm make its way through our tiny suburb. Pounding rain, thunder and cracks of lightning were so loud, glass bottles in our garage were shaking. But I wasn’t afraid. I thought the storm was so beautiful – powerful – incredible. As a child, I couldn’t fully understand the danger, but I could grasp the power. It was as if God was giving us a fireworks display of nature to end our party.

The storm passed, and I eventually went to bed, but I never forgot that night. The incredible joy of the impromptu neighborhood party and the unexpected storm that changed our plans – that picture has played out in many ways throughout my life. Both times have so much to teach us - I wouldn’t want to give up either.

Bingo Balls in Space

OK - so I'm sitting down to the computer on a Tuesday afternoon, and I really want to write something brilliant and reflective, something that will inspire, move and motivate anyone who might stumble uppon my little corner of the kingdom of Bloggerdom - but sadly, I don't think it's going to happen today.

My brain feels like one of those old-fashioned bingo-ball mixers. You know the ones you see in old TV shows and movies. (I don't know - maybe they still use them at today's bingo parlours?) The balls all have different ideas, thought, stories, reflections on them. Some are pictures of the ones I love, some have pictures of the ones in my life that are harder to love. Some of the balls are covered with criticisms, some are covered with encouragements. Some are the bad habits that I don't want to pick up again by accident, some are the steps I need to take to move forward in my life. The problem is, they are all bouncing around so much, I can't seem to get a grasp on any of them enough to write something cohesive, intellegent or even rational.

Here's a short list of the ones I can tell keep popping up with more regularity - they seem to be silently calling, "Pick me! Pick me! Pick me!" But like the perfect, golden peach, they just don't seem ready yet to go too deep on.

- Today in my small group we talked about having a hurried heart rather than a hurried schedule. The question we left with was, "How many blessings are we missing out on because we refuse to practice the discipline of solitude? What can we do to change that?"

- Watched the new version of the 10 Commandmants last night and will watch the conclusion tonight. Our family is a big fan of the original Charleton Heston one but there were elements of the new one that I loved. I loved that the new Moses was kind of pissy and really seemed to struggle with his faith in what God called him to do. That seemed much more real than the stoic Charleton Heston Moses.

- I feel like I'm falling short on some specific areas of parenting my kids. There are no quick fixes, no easy answers, and it's hard to know how to encourage my kids to make some changes in their lives to develop healthier lives. I want them to want to change their behavior because it is the right thing to do, not just because I say so.

- I need to register for a class that I want to take next month, but I find myself dragging my feet on it. I can't explain why - even to myself. It's something I really do want to do and I love school. It's only a week long class, but it will be a major disruption to the family schedule. I think I'm struggling with that totally irrational, undeserved mommy-guilt crap. I think I just need to suck it up and ask for the help I need and just do it.

- Before you feel too sorry for me (or annoyed at my whining!) I had a great break on Saturday while my husband was at work and my parents took the kids. To recharge the batteries I went for my favorite fix - a couple of hours at Powell's city of Books! Brought home a book for my daughter (the reading machine!) and two gardening books to get me on the stick: "Tea Gardens" and "Gardening with Herbs". I felt pretty good about only spending about $22 that day as I found about 10 other books to add to my wish list!

BINGO - That's five! Now, what to do with the other couple hundred still jumping around in my head . . . I guess there's always tomorrow's post!

Blessings! Kim

Sunday Scribbling

The prompt: Real Life

It began on the rooftop patio of an Omaha apartment building on a late spring afternoon. Before there was the threat of skin cancer, before mothers were drilled to slather their children with sunscreen before exposing one inch of their perfect skin to the hazards of the sun, a young mother decided to take a break from the demands of the day and enjoy the warm sunshine with her three year old daughter and her 19 year old sister-in-law. In her brown and cream one piece swimsuit she carried the essentials for the afternoon up the steps to the rooftop patio. New lawn chairs with white and green plastic woven straps, towels, Jackie-O sunglasses and a bag full of treasures.

I followed my mom up the stairs with my skinny, three-year-old legs with my auntie behind me. Once at the top, the two young women searched for the optimal sunning spot to work on their tans. Once found, they started to set up “house”, or so my little three year old brain thought. Three chairs were set up – two adult sized and one in miniature for me. Settling in, my mom pulled out a stack of Harlequin romance novels for she and my auntie. I’ll never forget the feeling of pride and belonging as I pulled from my little tote bag a stack of Golden Books. I spent the afternoon with the two most beautiful women in the world to me, looking at page after page in the colorful story books as they read their romances in the afternoon sunshine. I felt so grown-up to be sharing this special treasured time with them. It was when real life began for me – one of my first memories and the day I knew I couldn’t wait to learn how to read.

Since then, real life has been filled with joys and heartaches, happy and sad times, love and loss. Real life has been boring and thrilling, a toil and a treasure. Real life now is carpools, car payments, housework and house payments. It’s sitting in the freezing rain in November during my kid’s soccer game and cleaning the mud from the cleats for an hour after the game. It’s also seeing the joy on my son’s face when he scores a goal or the pride on my daughter’s when she makes a great save. It’s kissing my sweetheart good-bye in the morning and being home to kiss him hello when he comes home. But real life for me is also in the pages of my favorite books.

In my real life I have followed a family west from a Little House in the Big Woods to the banks of Plum Creek and beyond. I held the heavy metal of an ornate key that opened the gate to a Secret Garden. I watched the miracle of a grace through a teacher who cared enough about a student to make her work at her studies, despite her disabilities, challenging her to an education that included college. My real life included time traveling and solving mysteries with multiple groups of friends and associates. In my real life as a teenager, I was scared silly by a car named Christine and to this day can’t put my hands near a garbage disposal (thank you very much Mr. King!). I was asked to countless proms and had multiple makeovers in which each brought out the best of my features so that the cutest guy in school could see that in addition to being a total babe, I had a great personality and he couldn’t help but fall in love with me. In college, it was Mr. Whitman’s introspection, Mr. Shakespeare’s brilliance and Mr. Chaucer’s insight into humanity that sharpened the colors of my real life. Ms. Austin, Julian of Norwich, Brother Lawrence and even Christina the Astonishing all added to the days of my real life. In my real life I have run from assassins through the streets of Rome, solved mysteries in the English countryside, delivered sheep in the Yorkshire dales and shopped tag sales with my friend Sophie in the garment district of Manhattan. I have found sympathy for the Wicked witch of the east and traveled to the jungles of Burma in the past few months. Right now, my real life is sprinkled with the dust of Italy’s ancient structures being destroyed as Jews and their Catholic sympathizers hang on by a Thread of Grace.

There is no end to my real life. It is filled with joys and heartaches, happy and sad times, love and loss. And in all things, my real life is made complete as I continue to use my love of the word to study who I am in the sight of my Creator. For me – real life is the written word and the joy it brings to my soul.

Spring Cleaning the Soul

Today I was challenged with three questions regarding the small group I lead at church. What will I stop doing (the implication being - it's just not working); what will I continue to do (implication - it is working); and, what will I start doing (what could work better or in addition to what already is working). The context was our role as facilitator/leader of the small groups, but the question got me thinking to all of my life.

So, here's a few ideas, fresh from my recently vacationed mind, body and soul.

• I will stop using food as an anesthetic. (I pretty much cut my sugar intake by 2/3 over vacation and have felt better than I can remember in a long time.)
• I will stop dwelling on the expectation that I should have the perfect work situation at this time in my life.
• I will stop feeling guilty for taking time to be who I am.
• I will continue to exercise (walking for hours a day at Disney was a great start and I've been on the treadmill every day since trying to keep up the habit).
• I will continue to seek to follow the example of Jesus in my relationships. He is the only one who loved perfectly, sacrificed perfectly and accepted others without condition in all instances. My hope is that I could do that at least for those closest to me and make some sort of a difference in their lives and the lives of others with that example.
• I will continue to read for pleasure, for learning, and for enrichment. I will not feel guilty for this passion as the time I spend on it is valuable and necessary for me to be who I am supposed to be.
• I will start fighting my patterns of thinking that make me a slave to fear. Instead of cowering each time it shows its ugly face in my life, seeking to intimidate and paralyze me into complacancy and stagnation, I will work on staring it back in the face and sticking out my tongue in defiance as I sidestep its mass of waste and move forward to the treasures that are just down the path.
• I will start writing more for fun. I will participate in the next Sunday Scribblings and will post what I write, no matter how bad I think it is!

So there it is - for the world (or for the few who visit anyway) to see. The spring cleaning of my soul - well, it's a start anyway!