So much more

I love deer hunting. With my Dad being a hunter, I don't know how the joy of it eluded me for so long, but now that I have found it, I'm hooked. Someone commented to me the other day that she doesn't know how somebody can sit in one spot for hours waiting for a deer to come through...I understand, it's not for everyone. But to me, it's so much more than waiting for a deer. Sure, there's the thrill of actually shooting one, there is little that can compare to that kind of excitement. However, it is also so much more.
On Saturday morning I began my hunt. I hadn't really scouted this specific area yet, so I started by walking along the edge of a small ravine. In a dead, hollowed out tree inches in front of me I caught a flicker of tawny and white feathers. I peered through a crack, and said, "hello little bird". The smallest owl I have ever seen locked his big round eyes with mine. He cocked his head to the side, obviously not overly concerned about my presence. I smiled, remembering the "owl" game my Grandma Denniston used to play with my brother and me. In a flash, he was gone, taking flight on silent wings.
I eventually found a place to sit down and wait to see if something should wander by. The hush that had fallen over the woods slowly made way to the chirping of birds and the rustling of creatures unseen. I took in the blue jays calling to each other, swooping from one gray tree to another.
After sitting long enough for my bottom to get sore I stood up and followed a game trail. Trying to make sense of deer scrapes and rubbings, I picked my way along, hoping I would come up with something conclusive. One, single, lonely yellow butterfly, daring winter to come along and end it's happiness, fluttered on the brisk morning wind. I followed it, fantasizing that it was leading me to a secret deer hideout. Ignoring the silliness of such a notion, I continued along in the direction it went. A pheasant burst out of the brush just beneath my feet. I startled the woods into silence, and myself into a pounding heart with a rather loud screech.
Up ahead the brush began to rustle, something bigger than a squirrel (more to come on the squirrels....) was moving quickly through the dry underbrush. Unless the deer was crawling on its knees, I knew it had to be something else making so much noise. And then, through the top of the grass, a blue and red head popped up, let out a little gobble, popped back down, and pursued its noisy path. I pretended like I was hunting him for a little while. On the other side of the river I saw the turkey's real hunter: a big beautiful tan coyote. I had always pictured coyotes as mangy and forlorn creatures, like Mr. Wile. E. Coyote. This animal couldn't have been further from such a description. Obviously well fed on turkey, or deer, or both, he silently prowled along the edge of the river, spotting me, and taking off.

I made my way to another post, one where deer had been routinely spotted and reported. I settled in to wait for a deer to wander by, wishing I could slow down the inevitable sunset just a little. I had three clear views of directions I knew the deer had been coming from. I thought my chances were pretty good. What I didn't take into consideration was Agent S. Q. Whirl. I am convinced that squirrels are the secret agents of the woodlands. It wasn't long until one had spotted me. He hopped across the branches over to me and stared me down. I almost broke under the pressure, but managed to maintain my composure. He started the interrogation. Nonstop chattering, grunting, and snuffling, much of which I am sure were completely unacceptable curse words. He flicked his tail in irritation and looked like he was going to go super squirrel ninja on me at any second. I avoided eye contact and wondered what defense such a tiny creature could possibly have. And then it occurred to me: being as annoying as possible. Mr. Whirl took off and circled the woods along the tree branches, tattling the whole time about the hunter he saw spotted at the top of the hill. You know that scene in Bambi where the critters all start yelling "hunter in the woods! hunter in the woods!"? Well, I have no doubt that it was a squirrel that started the rumor. Needless to say, I did not see any deer that night, but I blame the squirrel.
Sunset settled in, the sounds of night time animals making their way out of their burrows reached my ears. I bowed to my tattler as I departed, he refused to accept the compliment and chattered at me one last time.
I still have several more days to find and shoot a deer. But if I don't, I will never consider such a venture wasted. It is about so much more...

Seeking

Seeking the right words, they sit on the edge of my mind and flit away, like a bird caught in the corner of my eye, but as I turn my head, it's wings carry it away before I even know if I really saw it. Emotions tearing my heart apart as I pray for hope but fear for loss. A child, one of God's beautiful creations, five weeks from taking his first breath, taken, suddenly...without reason, explanation, or comfort. I accepted the honor just moments before, not even 2 days, a breath in God's time, to help guide this little one in the knowledge and truth of his creator's grace. A promise in my heart to love, pray, and protect this child any time he needed me. And in the moment that he was in need the most, there was nothing I could do, nothing anybody could do. And I sit here helpless, remembering the light, joy, and hope this little child brought to those that waited so long for him. I grasp fleetingly at the light as it turns to darkness, sadness, despair. God, grant this little one your grace and mercy, grant those that love him peace and comfort, I pray for him as I promised, I pray for his family as there is nothing else to do.

Okaaaaay

I had an.....interesting, dream last night. There were so many details I remembered and it was SO quirky, I just had to write it out.

Dusk was approaching. My friend Jessica had been giving me reports of this monster buck that lives on her property, and had invited me to come out and shoot it (this part is true, and is what I am guessing spawned the dream). Anyway, it was almost dusk, the sun was going down, there was no wind. My friend, Jessica, and my other friends, Hope and Lisa, were sitting on Jessica's front porch. They each were sitting comfortably in freshly painted white rockers. They held steaming cups of cider that Jess had brewed up and they were wrapped up in blankets that Lisa had knitted. Hope strummed a few notes on her guitar. I headed over to the fence in my camouflage, rifle ready. Lisa "GO get 'em, Big Shot!" Lisa whisper/shouted (this is only possible in a dream, she was whispering so she wouldn't scare the deer, but I clearly heard her from 100 yards away).

I settled in to a little corner between a bush and the fence. Suddenly a large doe approached me, but I was there for the buck, so I didn't take aim. "Are you looking for something?" she said to me. I was a little surprised, but not wanting to miss the opportunity to converse with a deer I told her that I had heard about a buck with big antlers roaming the area. "Oh, well, that might be my son, Spirit, but he should know that it's hunting season, he wouldn't be wearing his antlers right now." Of course, that would be dumb to wear antlers during hunting season, he was probably keeping them on the top shelf of his closet.

Then the doe called up Spirit (such a great deer name, isn't it?). I don't know how she did it, the impression was that it was like calling on a cell phone, but I didn't see her holding one in her hoof. Maybe it was a blue tooth device...."Spirit, honey, there's a nice young lady here wanting to shoot a buck with big antlers, you haven't been wearing yours have you?" I couldn't hear his response...then she said, "NO, no, honey I'm not telling you to put ON your antlers, it's not THAT time yet, I just wanted to be sure you didn't have them...what's that? Joe has been wearing his? He should know better....okay, bye". Joe isn't such a great deer name, but apparently he wasn't very bright as far as deer go if he was wearing his antlers during the "wrong" time.

The doe starts to trot over to my car, "let's go look for him" she says. This seemed perfectly natural, so I followed. She drove up the road to the neighbor's house. "I'm not supposed to hunt here, I don't have permission for this property".
She looks at me with a sideways glance "it's okay, Darlin', you're with me and I'm driving, deer don't have boundaries." So we drive up to the lot and see that something has killed some of the chickens in the coop (this is also an actual fact from my real life, something HAS been killing the neighbors chickens but they don't know what, it's a mystery). Wanting to take advantage of being able to talk to the deer, I decide to try and get some insider knowledge, maybe SHE knows what's been killing the chickens and I can let the owners know. So, tentatively, I say "something's been killing the chickens". She replies, "Yup, sure has, it's a mystery." Uhmmm, okay, I try a different tact, "Well, hasn't any body ASKED the chickens?" She looks at me like I'm crazy, "chickens don't talk". Oh, of course, silly me.

We leave the neighbor's and turn back to Jessica's. As we approach there is a buck and a doe standing at the edge of the trees. He's got a whole bunch of antlers! They look a little strange in the shadows, kind of all bunched up together, so I get closer. The doe tells me this is Joe (dojo?). Upon closer inspection I see that Joe's antlers aren't actually antlers, they are little pine trees. I don't know what to do. He is a BIG buck...kind of stupid looking, but big, lots of meet. These aren't exactly the antlers I was expecting though. I hope the doe can help me make the decision, "So, you would be okay if I killed Joe?" She raises her deery eyebrows, "Oh, please do, he's no good for our species. Besides this way you can have Christmas dinner AND a Christmas tree in one shot!"

And that's where the dream ends.....It was just too strange and had way too many details for me to not share it, so there you go. Thanks for cheering me on, ladies, I hope you enjoyed the show.

Full boxes

Well folks, this post will be a touch more depressing than my typical posts. Mostly I need to get some ideas off of my chest. Who knows, maybe by the end of it, the whole thing will take a different turn. I hated outlining my stories in school, I liked to see where they would take me, not where I would take them. Maybe this blog posting will be the same way.

So, here's the deal. I have all of these boxes, lots and lots of them. I have held onto them because I don't want to give up hope, but I'm beginning to wonder if they are full boxes of stuff, but empty of hope. When do I give up the boxes, let go of them because they are simply taking up too much space? What are these boxes you might wonder. They are boxes of my boys' clothing. I have held onto them because I keep thinking I might need them again someday soon. It wasn't really very long after I stored away Timmy's things that I was pulling them out again for Daniel. The rotation system was perfect...about the time I would need to put shoes Timmy had grown out of into a box, I could take out a previous pair that Daniel would now fit into. This particular box, the "shoe box", is the one box that isn't labeled by year, it just holds all of the shoes. So now, Daniel keeps growing out of shoes, which means that they SHOULD go into the shoe box, but it's getting too full. Too full of empty shoes with nobody to wear them.

And now I need to come to a decision: do I get another box going for shoes because this one is too full? Or do I just simply start getting rid of them. Both choices are too painful. So there are a variety of "too small shoes" hiding in corners of each room in the house. I ignore them, thinking that maybe someday they'll have a somebody to wear them again.

And then there are the clothes. Before I could empty one box of Timmy's old clothes for Daniel, then put Timmy's recently outgrown clothes into that box and not have to buy any more containers. Well, with both boys growing out of clothes that need to go into boxes, and nobody around to empty the other ones, I need to buy more boxes...or just send the clothes on their way. Full boxes of empty promises.

I need to do something. I have ignored the problem for too long hoping that it would solve itself, but it's not. And I need to accept the possibility that it never will. There is not point in keeping 10 rubbermaid containers full of clothes that will never be worn. So I will probably donate them. And then if I am blessed with another child I will just have to have a babyshower....who doesn't like to buy clothes for a baby anyway? So do I get rid of the toys and furniture too....the crib?!? Ow. It's a good thing I have a big garage. Maybe the boxes can just sit in there for awhile longer.

Forgiveness

The message of today: forgiveness...it was said over and over again during church. Forgive those that have wronged you, with no limit, unconditionally. How many times must I forgive Him Father? 70 x 7, or, to one young innocent child sitting at the feet of her Pastor "a long ways away". Yes, a long ways away, so far away we can't see it anymore. Oh how difficult this forgiveness can be to send off these "wrongs" to the horizon, especially on a day like today.
And then in Bible study we hear of Joseph. Perhaps naive, perhaps not, but fulfilling God's plan none the less.

I think of how naive Timmy can be, how he states facts simply because they are facts, not thinking anyone would take offense to them. And I think of Joseph, talking about his dreams, excitedly, oblivious to the anger he his roiling up in his brothers. How he trustingly traveled 60 miles to meet up with them, only to be thrown in a pit and sold off to slavery.

And how, in the end, when he forgives them he tells them that it was not THEM that had done these things to him, but God. Joseph doesn't have an ounce of resentment towards his brothers. Oh, how I pray for this peace! We look at Joseph's forgiveness and how much it is like God's forgiveness to us: unconditional, without hesitation, with complete and total love, despite all that has been done wrong.

There's always something, usually simple, that jumps out and speaks volumes to me when going through these Bible studies. This time was no different. We are talking about this parallel: Joseph, like God, forgives his brothers, as God forgives us. Then Joseph sends his brothers to get their families. He sends them on a journey together. What is the last thing he says to them? "Do not quarrel with one another along the way." At first this made me giggle....not, "Safe travels", or "Love you, see you soon", or even, "God's peace." How well Joseph must have known his brothers! And how well God knows us. He not only cares about our relationship with Him, but our relationship with each other as we go on this journey through life, "Do not quarrel with one another along the way." Joseph had loved his brothers so much, and had forgiven them in that love, that he wanted them to experience the same love for one another. So it is with God and us, He wants us to love each other as He loves us.

Sometimes, no, often times, it is hard to see the good in eachother, to not find fault, to not gossip or quarrel. But that is God's wish for us, and so, as I pray for forgiveness, and the strength to forgive, I pray for the ability to not quarrel. What a word!

Details

I was reading John's account of the resurrection this morning. A noticed a detail that I had missed before...it's a detail that even Luke didn't write about. It goes like this, "Then Simon Peter, who was behind him, arrived and went into the tomb. He saw the strips of linen lying there, as well as the burial cloth that had been around Jesus' head. The cloth was folded up by itself, seperate from the linen." John 20:6-7

Did you catch it? The detail? "The cloth was folded up by itself, seperate from the linen. The study Bible suggests that this tells us that it wasn't a grave robbery, since everything would be in disarray if it had been. But to me it's more. Take a moment to close your eyes and imagine what those first few moments when Jesus came back to life must have been like. Of course nobody really knows...and maybe I am going out on too much of limb by suggesting it, but there is a sense of comfort I get from this "imagining." The silence and darkness of the tomb. A sudden intake of breath. His eyes open, and he sits up, with a slight smile on his lips as He knows that He has beaten death and the devil. He unwraps the linens, tenderly removes the burial cloth from around his head.

The cloth that Joseph and Nicodemus had prepared Jesus' body with 3 days earlier. Probably with tears of sadness. Perhaps in silence as neither knew what to say to the other, wondering if they dared hope to remember Christ's promise or to even vocalize it. Nicodemus knew the promise. He was the man that Jesus told, "for God so loved the world, that he gave his one and only son, that whoever beleives in him shall not perish but have eternal life." The thoughts that must have been going through this man's head as he cared for the lifeless body of Christ!

And now Christ awakes. He too remembers his late night teaching of Nicodemus. With the same care that was taken placing the cloth on his head, Jesus removes it. He does not throw it on the ground and run off to await Mary. He takes a few precious moments, while the angels rejoice, the birds sing, the ground shakes....he stops, takes up his burial cloth and folds it neatly. And then he leaves the tomb behind. With it he leaves his message of love for Nicodemus, Peter, and you.

In Harmony

That's how I feel right now: in harmony. I've had touches of it here and there, but today...today it is real. When I was more musical and played in a variety of groups, the band not playing together was called phasing...it happens when one part of the group is playing at a different tempo than another part. Not only does the band need to play in tune to sound right, each member needs to play at the same tempo. The quickest and easiest way to accomplish that is to watch the conductor.

My life, the way I live it, it's like keeping each part of the band harmonized, and at the same tempo. Sometimes, there might be a part that plays solo....the players in the background keep playing, but work, my children, my husband, each take center stage at some point, but never for the whole song. Sometimes, one performs louder...starts beating their drum a little too fast, trying to take over and push me along at a speed that isn't in harmony with the rest of my life. If that is allowed to happen, eventually the whole song will come to a screaching halt, cymbals will crash, the trumpet will fade out on a sour note, the clarinets will be too shrill....and it seems like the only thing that will fix the problem will be to stop, put the instruments down, give up, if nothing else, start completely over and try again.

But it's not done, there is a way to fix it without giving up, without starting again, or finding a new song to play. All of it can come back into harmony, back into the right tempo if I keep my eyes on my conductor, my leader, the one who orchestrates my life. Only God can keep my song together, can make each and every part of my life playing the sweet notes that He intended them to be.