25 Prayers of Christmas, Day 5

My computer was out of commission for the last 4 hours. With deadlines looming and a to-do list that all involved being online, this was not part of the plan.

Even after yesterday's prayer to not make mountains out of molehills, this initially seemed like the worst possible thing that could happen.

But then I remembered what it was like working in an office in Indiana during the winter. It seemed like we always lost our electricity at the most inconvenient of times. What do you do in an office without a computer? You clean, you organize, you go out with your girlfriends to get mani-pedis. And somehow, hours or days later when the electricity comes back on, you find yourself more relaxed, more focused, more able to conquer the tasks at hand.

So, instead of stressing away the day, I took the dogs for a walk, made myself a nice lunch, organized the kitchen cabinets, and watched a Hallmark movie. And now I'm coming back to my desk with not only a clean computer, but a mind clear of the clutter and stress that occupied it earlier this morning. And the inspiration for today's blog post. :)

Thank you Jesus for the reminder that every interruption is an opportunity.

There's More Than One Way To Tell a Story

There's more than one way to tell a story.

For example, Randy just took me on a "surprise" vacation, which I could describe like this:

We left on motorcycle around 1 p.m. The sky was thick with smoke from neighboring forest fires. Even with the smoke the temperature pushed 95 degrees. I was uncomfortably hot in the jacket and helmet Randy insists I wear. Damn him for caring so much about my safety. As I struggled against the sweat and smoke, I cut my finger on a loose tooth of the jacket's zipper just as a bee flew into Randy's chest, somehow finding its way under his shirt. He had no choice but to kill it with his bare hands at 70 mph, but not before it sank its stinger multiple times into his chest. Shortly thereafter I heard a snap. One of our straps broke, sending a saddle bag flying into oncoming traffic. I looked back in time to see it explode all over the highway, along with all of its contents. Before we could land for the evening we ran out of gas in a town that had only one pump, which had been shut down for hours. (It was Sunday, after all.) We eventually found our way to a historic hotel, the kind with no TV or internet and creepy pictures of your great-grandparents on the bedroom walls. What kind of omen was it that we would literally be shaken out of bed the next morning? An earthquake. Rattling those creepy pictures on the wall. We should have seen that snowstorm coming...

Or I could describe the vacation like this:

Randy and I stopped on the side of the highway to take a selfie at the California/Oregon border. Sixteen months before he had flown to Philadelphia to meet me as my plane from Madrid landed on American soil. We went out for Philly cheesesteaks, making Pennsylvania the first U.S. state we had experienced together. Now, 16 months later, Oregon was officially our 16th state. What a season of adventure! We welcomed the cool air of Oregon. Skies were overcast and a bit rainy, a nice change from the California heat and drought. It also meant Sunriver, the resort where Randy had booked our stay, was much quieter than normal. It had the feel of having it all to ourselves. We didn't encounter a single canoe, kayak or paddleboard as we coasted down the Deschutes River, though some bikers along a nearby path did get to witness a flock of geese buzz our heads. We enjoyed the river so much we often paddled upstream so as to make our 3-mile journey last as long as possible. As we began our 2-day journey home we stopped to view Pauline Falls and were delighted by the few snowflakes that fluttered through the air. Delighted might not be the word to describe how we felt when we reached the visitor's center at Crater Lake National Park, however. Drenched. Colder than we've maybe ever been. But I soon discovered what an opportunity it was to show love. I was freezing when we got off the bike to run in for a cup of coffee. But when I saw that Randy too was uncomfortably cold, my attitude changed just as quickly from "I'm miserable" to "how can I make this easier for him." When I asked him what he needed he said he needed me to be okay. So I bought a fleece jacket for myself and two cups of coffee. As much as we were ready to check-in to Crater Lake Lodge and hunker down for the night, we quickly discussed it and decided what we really needed to do was to get off that mountain as soon as possible. Some of the other visitors told us the snow had just started and wasn't likely to stop anytime soon. Within a few hours we were clear of the mountain and even dry thanks to the 70 degree temps in Medford. When we finally did check in to a room for the night we met an older gentleman who told us of a 17-day motorcycle ride he took through Alaska. "It rained for 12 of them," he said. "My son was with me. I wouldn't change a thing." He obviously understood the beaming smiles on our faces from our latest adventure. 

All of the details from both versions are true. What's different is the attitude in which they are told. The first focuses on the negative, the discomfort, the "bad omens". The second focuses on the positive, on our relationship, on gratitude.

I am so grateful that Randy and I share the second focus. When we lost our saddle bag in the middle of traffic he wasn't even phased. When we ran out of gas it was an excuse to talk to the owner of the Saloon who just happens to keep a gallon of gas on hand. When we were safely down that snowy mountain Randy took the time to tell me that my calm strength and trust in him just made him fall a little deeper in love with me.

Reality is that we don't always get to choose when bad things, unexpected things, challenging things happen to us. But we always get to choose the attitude with which we confront them.

National Parks

I think it is safe to say that I have an obsession with National Parks.

This obsession began in 2000 when my best friend Christina and I spent 3 months at the Grand Canyon, living, working, praying, and playing.

It heightened the following summer when I spent the most transformative 3 months of my life at Yellowstone National Park in Wyoming.

Yellowstone National Park, Wyoming

Which is why, when I graduated from college in 2002, the only move that made sense to me was yet another National Park. So I packed away my degree and moved to California, where I spent 8 months in Yosemite.

While living in California I spent as much time in Joshua Tree, Death Valley, Kings Canyon & Sequoia National Parks as I did at home among the "Big Trees" of Yosemite.

My next move was to Arkansas to live with my grandmother, but before I could get there I added Bryce, Zion, Capitol Reef, Arches, Canyonlands, and Mesa Verde in Utah and Colorado to my growing list of National Parks I consider home.

While in Arkansas I of course had to take advantage of Hot Springs National Park. And in the dozen years since, I've added Crater Lake in Oregon, Petrified Forest in Arizona, Carlsbad Caverns in New Mexico, Great Smoky Mountains in Tennessee, Mammoth Cave in Kentucky, Cuyahoga Valley in Ohio, and most recently, Lassen Volcanic National Park in California, to my list of happy places.

Petrified Forest National Park, Arizona

What is it about these places that continues to draw me back? The purpose of the National Park System says it all:

“The fundamental purpose of the parks is to conserve the scenery and the natural and historic objects and the wildlife therein and to provide for the enjoyment of the same in such manner and by such means as will leave them unimpaired for the enjoyment of future generations.”

Carlsbad Caverns National Park, New Mexico

How many other places in our world are unimpaired, undamaged, unspoiled by our hands and constructs, but left to remain perfect, the way they were created by our Creator? How many other places were set aside by our fathers and our fathers fathers for our enjoyment, and for the enjoyment of our children and our children's children? How many other places serve us, as a place to live, work, pray, and play in, at any age?

Lassen Volcanic National Park, California

Our recent trip to Lassen was especially momentous as they had just two weeks before celebrated 100 years since the last major eruption of Lassen Peak, an event that led to their being designated as a National Park. We also learned that next year, in 2016, the National Park SERVice will be celebrating 100 years as an official government organization.

I, for one, am grateful for the service of the National Parks, and will continue to support them through my obsession with visiting, living, working, praying, and playing in their midst.

Madrid

Reflecting back on our last few days in Spain, I've wondered why I wasn't able to write a final post about our journey. 

Yes, we had a myriad of emotions swirling around us. From exhaustion after our long, final days walk, to exhilaration that we had completed our long awaited Camino, to sadness over leaving this beautiful country, to relief that we didn't have to walk anymore. 

Yes, we had head colds due to the drastic change in weather, from cold, rainy days to overwhelming sun. And body aches due to all the walking and carrying of our packs. 

But more than that, I think it was the overwhelming busy-ness of Madrid that prevented me from being able to go anywhere worthwhile with my thoughts.

Madrid has more street performers than a theme park...

The Plaza Mayor was host to the traditional Easter Sunday drum band...

People watching at its finest...

Shopping is their drug...

The food is all the size of finger sandwiches...

And you get charged based on how many toothpicks are left on your plate.

Don't get me wrong. There were places of beauty. Like the park across the street from our hotel...

And the many museums...

But mostly we felt like Sisyphus, always ending up in the same place, with the same crowds, and never actually getting anywhere.

After weeks of nothing but small town hospitality, wide open spaces and solitude, Madrid simply made us long for the Camino. So much so that Rand even conceded after a few days that maybe, maybe someday we will go back and walk the final stretch (approx. 90 km) from Santiago to Finisterre.

And I am reminded, now that we have returned home, that it is more important than ever to make space and time in the midst of our crowded, busy lives to breathe, to think, to pray, to write, to smile, to love, to serve.

Thank you once again for walking with us! Good journey... Buen Camino!

Why Walk So Far in One Night?

Continued...

Day 14/15 of walking: Boente to Santiago, 47.5 km (or was it 56.5?!)
Total for Camino 2015: 321.2 km (330.2 km?!)

During our stop at the 12.5 km mark, Rand duct taped a flashlight to his walking stick. I nicknamed him “Macgyver” during our first Camino, because he was always coming up with these kinds of innovations. Despite the full moon, we were glad for the extra light. The path was often through trees, small towns, on rough terrain or with potholes. And after meeting our friends in the woods, we were prepared for the unexpected.

It was a cold night, so we didn’t sit long. An hour break in a café would have been perfect, but that wasn’t available to us in the midnight hour. As we passed through several small towns, we wondered about stopping in a hotel and asking if we could take a rest for an hour. If there was a couch in the lobby perhaps. Or simply somewhere to get in out of the cold and off our feet.

I had heard that the Albergue just 4.6 km from Santiago was open 24 hours. But as we passed by, there didn’t seem to be any way to get to it. Not at all like we both remembered from being here last year.

Before 3 a.m. we had descended the last big hill, the last flight of stairs, and crossed the last bridge into Santiago. But having been here before, we knew we were still a long way away from the Cathedral. So we stopped at a park, pulled out a sleeping bag, and laid down until 4:30. Too exhausted to care about the people sitting in their car right next to us, who also appeared to be taking an early morning nap.

The rest did our feet well, but we were still exhausted, sore, and ready for a place to land. We had to force ourselves to take photos at the “Santiago de Compostela” sign, before walking for another hour across town to get to the Cathedral. Making a short stop at an indoor ATM to warm up.

The Fitbit I’ve been wearing this trip told us that our 47.5 kilometer day had actually been 56.5 kilometers. Where did those extra 9 kilometers come from? Perhaps the guidebook was only giving us the measures to the edge of town, and not all the way. Who knows. Regardless, it was a long, uncomfortable walk.

In those moments as we entered the Cathedral Plaza, where a handful of pilgrims were celebrating and taking photos of themselves in front of the dark, construction clad Cathedral, I wished that I had insisted we take these last 47.5 (56.5?) kilometers “poco a poco”. That if we had walked over 3 days instead of one, perhaps then we would have a positive emotional reaction to this final entry into Santiago and the taking of our last Camino steps together. Instead we were too tired to even care.

We found a covered entryway to one of the many shops nearby, across the street from the Pilgrim’s Office where we would get our official credentials in a couple of hours, and once again pulled out the sleeping bag. It wasn’t as comfortable as a hotel room or even an Albergue bed, but at least we didn’t have to walk anymore.

Despite my exhaustion, I quickly found myself restless. So I walked back to the Cathedral Plaza and sat down in the middle of the now abandoned square. I hated the idea that we might have “ruined” our Camino by walking so far on our last stretch. So I prayed and asked the Father what good there was in this. More would be revealed in the coming days, but the initial sense was, “How else would you have the entire Cathedral to yourself?”

In just a few short hours, tourists and pilgrims and bicycles and street vendors would pack the square. But in this moment, the early morning hours of Good Friday when Jesus and his followers suffered the longest, hardest day of his earthly life, it was mine alone. And for that I was grateful.

The Beginning of a Very Long Walk

Day 14 of walking: Boente to Santiago, 47.5 km

Total for Camino 2015: 321.2 km (200 miles)

There is something about breaking the 50 kilometer mark that makes me want to just keep walking to Santiago.

Rand and I had been talking for several days about what these last 50 kilometers would look like. And we planned to spread them out over 3 days. "Poca a poco." Little by little. To enjoy the last steps of our Camino. And arrive early on Saturday morning in order to get our names read at noon mass and find a place to stay given the Holy Week ("Semana Santa") crowds.

A recent newspaper reported a 61 percent increase in pilgrims arriving in Santiago this March as opposed to last March, so we knew we would never find a place to stay if we arrived late in the day.

But then we unexpectedly ended up staying at the same albergue I did last year right before I walked the last 47.5 kilometers to Santiago. And the hospitalero/bartender recognized me right away.

Something about this encounter triggered in Rand that we, too, could walk all the way to Santiago, if we wanted to.

We immediately decided that regardless of how far we walked we would still have our long breaks throughout the day. We took one at lunch time, for nearly 2 hours, mostly to get a respite from the heat. Our cold, wet Camino has turned hot in the last couple of days, today reaching into the 70s. When walking with a backpack over hilly terrain, the lower 50s are ideal for us. So you can imagine how uncomfortable we were at 20 degrees warmer than that. We took another hour long break at dinner time. Not quite sure what we were going to do at this point.

A large group of pilgrims we had seen during our first break were there settling in to their albergue and having dinner. We asked if anyone wanted to walk to Santiago with us, and they all pointed to one of the guys who had apparently been telling them they should all walk by moonlight. He told us he thought it would be "the best way". But they were all showered and wearing flip flops at this point, so they told us to have a "Buen Camino".

After this second rest our feet felt refreshed and we were energized at the idea of going all the way to Santiago. We had 25 kilometers under our belt already for the day and a mere 20 or so to go. We thought for sure we could handle it. I knew it was a long, hard walk. Even longer than the 20 kilometers it claimed. But also that it was possible.

We set out in the dark into the forest, and were talking about how scary this would be to walk alone, when a voice with a British accent spoke out of the darkness, "Buen Camino."

I was too scared to scream. But soon made out the two figures sitting on the side of the trail that we had nearly walked right past. "You scared the crap out of me!" I said. Rand had a few other words to say. And the boy handed us a bottle of wine, which we each gladly took a big swig from.

We spent the next 30 minutes or so getting to know these two, whose faces we never did see. Danny is from England but currently lives in New Jersey. Natalie is from Australia but currently lives in England (or vice versa, we can't remember). They dated 6 or 7 years ago, but it didn't work out. When Danny put on Facebook that he was going on Camino, however, she sent him a message saying she'd always wanted to go. He told her when he was going and said she was welcome to walk beside him if she wanted. He was going either way.

The got to St. Jean Pied de Port and started walking on March 23. The snow was too deep and dangerous to go over the Pyrenees, but they told us about some friends they met who had done it anyway and survived the night by staying in a shepherd's barn. We had seen that barn last year just meters before we pitched our tent! Danny and Natalie took the easier route to Roncesvalles and arrived so quickly that they kept right on walking, all the way to Pamplona, a good 70 kilometers. It took us a week to walk that far! This pace continued and they were about to complete their entire Camino in just 11 days. Not without hardship, however, At one point Natalie's feet were so messed up that Danny was ready to rent a car and drive her to Santiago. But she got rid of her hiking boots and traded them for a pair of sandals and they continued on their way.

"Now we don't know what to do," Danny said. "Because we've kind of liked spending this time together." We told them our story, and that if you can be together 24/7 with someone for that long and still enjoy one another's company it might be worth exploring. Natalie laughed and said, "Maybe we will be the two of you in a few years!"

The reason they were sitting on the side of the path was that they had just pitched the emergency tent that Danny had been carrying the entire trip and decided to sleep in the woods rather than finish the last 17 kilometers to Santiago that night. They'd been up since 5 a.m. walking and had decided they'd had enough. Who knows how many kilometers they had already put in! They had two more bottles of wine to keep them warm, and gave us the third. We gave them our phone number and told them to give us a call once they landed in Santiago and maybe we could all meet in the daylight!

It was one of the highlights of this long night of walking. The moon, too, was beautiful, guiding us on our way. But at midnight when we stopped to rest, we still had 12.5 kilometers to go!

(To be continued!)    

   

All New Steps!

Day 8 of walking: Las Herrerias to Alto do Poio, 16.9 km

Today is the first day that we have walked all new steps for me. And the first 8 kilometers were straight up a mountain!

I remember taking the taxi on these mountain roads a year ago. I was so envious of the pilgrims in their ponchos, braving the wind and rain as they walked up hill. I would have done anything to have been walking beside them. And today I got my chance!

My body felt great; my heart even better. The view was gorgeous, and I couldn’t think of anywhere in the world I’d rather be.

If I had made this trek last year, I probably wouldn’t have had the same appreciation for it that I had today. I likely wouldn’t have enjoyed the rain, the challenge to my quads and glutes, or the wind in my face. There is beauty in having something taken from you, and then being given another chance.

Once we reached our summit we found the bust of Don Elias Valina Sampedro (1929-1989), the priest who came up with the idea to mark the Camino with yellow flechas (arrows) to guide pilgrims on their way. It’s thanks to him we don’t have to carry a map!

I was feeling so good that I encouraged us to press on to the next town before we stopped. But soon the rain started coming down harder. And the side of the mountain wasn’t there to block the wind. My gloves were soaked through, making my hands even colder by wearing them. We stopped at the next town but the woman at the store told us she wasn’t cooking. We would have to go two more kilometers. She made us a cup of coffee and filled us with chocolates and sent us back out into the wind.

When we arrived in the next town we came first to an Albergue. We stopped but no one was there. We wandered around. It looked really nice. There was a washer and dryer, which we were in need of. But without someone there to greet us, we felt we should move on. We found the local bar and were craving hamburgers and French fries.

A few days ago we met a couple from Germany who said “The Camino Provides” means the Camino will give you what you need, not necessarily what you want.

It proved to be true. The woman at the bar told us the only thing she had for us was soup. Homemade vegetable soup. Hot off the stove. It was exactly what we needed on this cold, wet day!

As we were leaving town, we came across an open barn full of hand-carved walking sticks. Several days ago Rand left his stick outside the place we were staying. We leave our stuff outside and unattended all the time. But this time, it wasn’t there when we left the next morning. We’ve passed a few stores where he could have bought a replacement, but the former one was special and he wanted this one to be too.

There was no one in the barn, but the door was open and a sign said they were made by “Pirri” and were available for 3 euros. We were bummed not to get to meet Pirri, but Rand found one that felt good. We didn’t have any change, but we figured a hand-carved walking stick was worth the 5 euros we left in Pirri’s cash box. The Camino Provides!

Reasons for Walking

Day 1 of walking: Leon to Villar de Mazarife, 22.2 km

We are walking! It was so nice to leave the Parador Hotel clean, rested, and not having just walked nearly 500 kilometers! We had no trouble walking all the way to our goal of Villar de Mazarife, where I spent my first night without Rand last year.

Walking, we've determined, is our primary reason for doing the Camino this year. For Rand to complete his Camino (God willing!). For me to complete my Camino unbroken (God willing!). And for us to complete our Caminos together (one way or another!).

And of course to make new memories and lasting friendships!

These two were the only others at the albergue we stayed at tonight in Villar de Mazarife. From Switzerland, they have been married 41 years.

He walks for religious reasons.

"Are you Catholic?" I asked. "We believe in the Bible," he said, "the Old and New Testament. What denomination you are is between you and God."

I like this very much.

He gave us a pamphlet about how you know you are going to heaven. He carries them in several languages. We accepted it graciously. While it isn't how we are called to serve, it is our responsibility to honor the call of others.

His wife walks because she's already walked across Switzerland and France. Spain is the next logical step.

Even though he trained to walk with her, after the first 5 days he realized that no training prepares you for the Camino. Isn't that the truth! So he walks as much as he can, and takes the local bus to the albergue they plan in advance to stay at for the night. He also sends his backpack with the transport service so he doesn't have the extra weight to carry. She walks every step, with her backpack on.

"She is very strong," he bragged.

They spent the last 3 days resting in Leon after he caught a cold.

Catching a cold is something that has been on my mind since we arrived. Something I definitely want to avoid. It is colder here than I remember. At least it feels that way. Maybe because last year I left Ohio in the negatives and this year I left California at 85 degrees. Or maybe because we didn't walk our first several day. I'm sure that once we get moving more regularly on foot we will adjust.

You Shared It With Me

Have you ever seen something beautiful or funny or unusual and wanted to share it but didn't have your camera or your phone with you to capture the moment?

Not too long ago, Jovi and I were walking in the park when we saw 30 wild turkeys in the field right next to us. 30 turkeys!

On another occasion, while walking past the horse arena, two horses came running over and leaned their heads down over the fence as if to say hello to Jovi. Jovi and the horses just stood there, looking into each others' eyes, until I finally told Jovi it was time to go.

At the hardware store last week a toddler gave me the biggest smile I have ever seen.

And on none of these occasions did I have my phone or a camera. This happens to me all the time. Especially since moving to California, where I have tried to be more mindful of NOT having my phone with me at all times. Because I want to be more connected and available to the ones I love, and in order to do so I need to be less connected and available thru my phone, email, and Facebook.

Sometimes I am left thinking, "God, why didn't I bring my phone? Wouldn't this moment have blessed so many people?"

Today, as I was walking, enjoying the sunshine, and reflecting on this, I felt like God said to my spirit, "I was there. You shared it with me."

So true. And if I would have had my phone on me I would have been so focused on sharing it with others that I would have missed the opportunity to just stand and marvel at his grace. With him. A blessing just for me. Can you believe that? There are moments of beauty that the God of the Universe wants to share--not with the world, but just between him and me!

Words of wisdom from my friend Margaret: "Sometimes in order to live more, we need to post less."

A Valentine's Day Adventure

Since Valentine's Day is about love, Randy and I decided to spend the day doing what we love -- hiking, enjoying nature, and being together.

A couple months ago some friends of ours gave us a book on "60 Hikes within 60 Miles of Sacramento". We looked for one that promised little foot traffic and allowed dogs, wasn't too long or too strenuous but also not too easy or too short, and off we went.

It was a beautiful wooded trail with lots of ups and downs. But our packs weren't too heavy and we were well shaded from the 70 degree weather. We even found a bench with a view to enjoy our lunch of fruit, cheese, and chocolate.

We weren't too nervous about the fact that the bench was there to honor a woman who had been killed by a mountain lion. But we did keep our eyes and ears open and Jovi close.

After lunch we came across a young couple relaxing in a hammock by the water. The trail then got steep and rocky. I slipped several times as we made our descent. My knees began to ache and Jovi began to limp. But we were nearly 5 miles into our 5 mile hike, so we knew that once we reached the bottom we would be home free.

Except that once we reached bottom a sign indicated that our trailhead was still 3 miles away. How could that be?

We found a shady spot and pulled out our map. We tried to encourage Jovi, who was still limping, to rest. And we ate more chocolate.

Even with our map, however, we couldn't tell where we were or where we'd gone wrong. Because our map only showed the trail we were supposed to be on. Not all the other trails that intersected with it.

There are many times in our lives that we get off track. Sometimes we intentionally choose the way we know isn't right or isn't best. But other times we think we are on the right path, we make what we feel are all the right choices and all the right turns, and it still ends up wrong.

But even though we didn't know where we were, we did have a sign pointing us in the right direction. So we had the choice of backtracking, going up the steep ravine we just came down, or following the sign and trusting it to return us to the right path.

We chose to follow the sign. And it dawned on me to be grateful that we had come across it. Because without the sign we didn't even know we were lost. And here it was giving us a "shortcut" to our car so that we wouldn't have to retrace our steps.

Future signs were a bit more confusing, and ended up taking us 5+ miles to get back to our car instead of 3, but we saw so many beautiful things along the way.

There will be many times in my life that I get lost or off track. No matter how much I commit to serving God I won't get it right all of the time. But I am assured by the fact that God is always watching out for me, pointing me in the way I should go, and showing me beautiful things along the way.

From Chaos to a Compliment

Airports require lots of flexibility.

Last week, the first leg of our flight was cancelled a full day before we were scheduled to leave Sacramento, due to the weather in Denver. 

And yesterday the second leg of our flight was delayed because a dog went to the bathroom all over the back of the plane and they had to have the carpets cleaned before we could board. The flight attendants said the dog's owners just made it worse by trying to clean it up on their own.

But that was a minor disturbance compared to what nearly happened when we finally found ourselves ready to board.

There were lots of children, of all ages, on our flight, and many of them had grown restless waiting. While in the narrow hallway of the jet bridge, a man who happened to be standing right behind us chose to tell the father of a couple of these children that "it's called parenting."

A verbal exchange ensued between the men, who were ready to take their "conversation" to the next level. Several other passengers became involved, adding their own opinions about how to keep the kids quiet and the appropriateness (or inappropriateness) of smacking your kids across the mouth.

The rest of us stood uncomfortably nearby.

Up to this point the commotion was all directly behind us, but I could sense that the people in front of us were considering weighing in on the disruption, which would have put Randy and I right in the middle of it all.

Before that could happen I awkwardly said to the woman directly in front of us, "I like your ring."

She looked down at her empty right hand and looked back up at me. I pointed to her left hand and she looked down again.

"My friend, she spoils me," the woman said hesitantly, seemingly having trouble transitioning from the chaos to a compliment. And then she continued, "We live next door to each other. Our husbands knew each other in high school. Isn't that wild? I guess it makes sense though. My town is so small that all you have to do is put my first name on an envelope and I'll get it. Bonnie. Just write Bonnie and my town and they will deliver it to me. But make sure you write the town. Otherwise it will go to a Bonnie somewhere else."

She became more animated as she talked. And one by one the people around us stopped arguing, stopped gawking at those arguing, and slowly made their way peacefully on to the plane. Miraculously there were no other disturbances on the 3 hour flight home, not from the children, their parents, or those interested in "parenting".

Sometimes the best way to serve in a situation like this is to offer up a distraction. A compliment, a question, just something to give people a moment or a breath, a chance to redirect.

 

Taking the Time to Connect

It is 12 degrees in Ohio and Randy is choosing to spend the day outside on the farm with my dad. Dad doesn’t necessarily need Randy’s help, but Randy wanted to spend the day with him anyway. In fact, Randy has spent 3 of our 7 “vacation days” working alongside my father. Telling stories, understanding the rhythm of the farm, and learning more about corn yields and moisture percentages and other farmer talk. 

"Serving", I am already learning, is not necessarily the same as doing or even helping. Serving can mean being present, wanting to understand others and their lives, and taking the time to connect.