For Love Of Words: September 2017

Recently we drove by the house we raised our children in. The new owners painted the shutters, removed my custom built window boxes and put a fence around the backyard.

Memories flooded in. Ally pushing her baby in a stroller in the yard. The boys shooting baskets for hours at the end of the driveway. Scott and I taking a walk every night after dinner, inviting the kids to come find us on their bikes....after they do the dishes and clean the kitchen.

I asked Scott if he misses having kids in school (a.k.a. home everyday). It's weird when the school calendar has absolutely no bearing on your daily life after 20 years of it being in the driver's seat. I used to love back-to-school time. New clothes, backpacks full of supplies, September = apples, October = pumpkins, November = pilgrims. You get the picture.

The season is changing. Summer is behind us. This is never more obvious than in a small tourist town when 85% of the businesses close up the day after Labor Day.

I noticed yesterday the leaves are starting to showing off up here in the mountains. Already? My excitement for Fall and then upcoming Christmas and winter is not as strong as it used to be. It couldn't come fast enough when the kids were home. Now it's more like I'm trying to put the brakes on and prolong its coming. Winter has long been my favorite season, am I now afraid of it?

March and April are the problem. Spring comes late in the North. The summer sped by so fast. It feels like the green lush trees just bloomed. I'm not ready for the cold that drives us inside. I will be eventually, but not quite yet.

It's not rocket science to put the clues together. We don't live in a neighborhood anymore. Our kids are grown and out of the house. They aren't here for the whole month of December, sometimes just a week or less. (And we need the whole month of December to watch our extensive Christmas movie collection and for me to read them the stories of their childhood. Yeah, they don't really let me do that anymore anyway, but still.) Winter is long when there are no snow days.

The Bible tells us,

"For everything there is a season, and a time for every matter under heaven:

a time to be born, and a time to die;
a time to plant, and a time to pluck up what is planted;
a time to kill, and a time to heal;
a time to break down, and a time to build up;
a time to weep, and a time to laugh;
a time to mourn, and a time to dance;
a time to cast away stones, and a time to gather stones together;
a time to embrace, and a time to refrain from embracing;
a time to seek, and a time to lose;
a time to keep, and a time to cast away;
a time to tear, and a time to sew;
a time to keep silence, and a time to speak;
a time to love, and a time to hate;
a time for war, and a time for peace."*

That pretty much covers everything. Notice how half are fun and enjoyable and the other half seem to imply loss and pain possibly resulting in fear. However, this I know, throughout the Old and New Testaments, we God-followers are instructed not to fear. Ok, but how?

I've been reading a delightful book about walking with Jesus through the physical and spiritual seasons of winter, spring, summer and fall and I love the author's ideas.

I've never experienced such an accurate description of both the brutality and value of winter. Winters, spiritually speaking, are necessary to achieve a less shakable faith through prayer (how shallow would our prayers be if we never endure difficult seasons of pain, trial and God's silence?), pruning (let's admit there are things in our lives that need to die and fall off), and waiting (while excruciatingly hard, this discipline yields volumes of fruit in an increased ability to trust God and help others do the same that comes with emergence into Spring).

I agree 100% but that's not what I'm going to write about today. I wrote many a post about spiritual winter when we went through our three year tundra just a few years ago. Feel free to back up and read if you're in your own. Instead, on my mind today is how to not just survive, but thrive in actual freezing cold winter.

I know, I know, we haven't even gotten to the calendar beginning of Fall yet, so why today? Because I'm nervous about what I know is inevitable and I want to get ahead of it as much as is in my control. (That looks like a self-confession of control freakishness. Not going there today either.)

Back to the book I'm reading, the author also suggests the value of winter play. There are things we can only do in winter that need to move to the front seat. "Winter might be handing you a gift...there may be something you can do now, here, that's hard or impossible to do anytime else."**

Outside - skiing, ice skating, snow shoeing, sledding, etc.
Inside - the things we can't seem to get to the rest of the year like puzzles, reading books that have long sat on the "to be read" shelf, journaling, ____________, etc. You fill in the rest of the blanks.

I like to think I already know this. I shine pretty much until mid-January which doesn't cut it when you live in the mountains where winter is forever (slight drama). If I'm honest, I admit that eventually my vigor turns into sluggishness and I curl up on my couch with sweet carbs to hibernate instead of embracing the gift of winter (physical). Then I get to Spring and wonder what I have to show for all those months inside? Wasted time. No more!

As I anticipate the long Adirondack winter, I accept the challenge to proactively enter the cold season with a positive attitude and arranging my time to include some things I usually intend to do, but often let slide as I slumber through awaiting Spring's colorful arrival.

A list! Of course, a list is always the 1st step.

May I suggest a spiritual goal/discipline as first priority? Perhaps reading through the Bible starting in January (or start in December so you're ahead!). Tackling an Advent devotional? Adding minutes and intimacy to your prayer life? Resolving to wait for God without anxiety?

Getting the most out of anything we dread is more likely when spending time with Jesus and growing in His likeness is the initial focus. Once we nail that, we can add other ideas.

Here's my first attempt:

1. Get out a big puzzle that will take a long time to complete and invite guests to join the effort. Good talks happen when working on a project together in a comfy living room.
2. Reread, with a friend this time, the Mitford series. Oh Father Tim, how I love you!
3. Exercise inside as often as I do outside in the summer (resist the couch!).
4. Plant a window garden to watch something grow.
5. Actively learn something from someone else. (My co-worker makes homemade bagels. Homemade bagels! She's promised to teach me.)
6. Make use of the many cookbooks I hoard - try a new recipe every week or two.
6. Learn how to cross country ski. Then ski across the frozen lake.
7. Go on a dog sled ride.

What is this? My apprehension is losing power. I'm actually getting excited for what's ahead. Are you? Let's do this together - add your inspired ideas in the comments so I can steal!

In the meantime, we can rest here - seasons change, but God doesn't. He's present in all of them. He's good in all of them, even when they are long and painful. No need to fear or worry. There's something good and necessary in each one for us.

We just need to chill and let God do His work. Did you see what I did there?

*Ecclesiastes 3:1-8
**Spiritual Rhythm by Mark Buchanan

Do you ever just feel like something isn't right? But you can't quite put your finger on it.

I've been here for a few weeks. What could it be? My gratitude list continues to grow daily. I have nothing to complain about. I'm not going through anything particularly difficult. So what is it?

Tension. Dictionary.com defines it this way, "the act of stretching or straining; mental or emotional strain; intense, suppressed suspense, anxiety or excitement."

Yes. That's it! All of it. But still nothing specific - that's the frustrating part. I don't know what the tension is between. What's being stretched and strained? What is the intense, suppressed suspense, anxiety and/or excitement I'm feeling?

Not sure, but it's real. One of the perks of where we live is that gorgeous Lake Pleasant is a hop, skip and jump from my front door. I grabbed my journal and told Scott I'd be back at dark. He never asks why, just sends me on my way. (And no doubt enjoys his own peace and quiet.)

I found an Adirondack chair and planted myself, "Lord, I'm here. Why don't you talk and I'll listen for a change?" Having raised a child or two who talked incessantly, not always inviting me to get a word in, I wonder how happy this makes God. Does He think, "Finally!"?

After a while, I suggest to myself that I write a few lists which might help relieve the tension.

I actually scribble, "I like lists." Only Type A word nerds can appreciate this.

I consider what to number. Based on what's been rattling around in my head lately, I come up with these.

1. Sins - that need confessing, repenting, and forgiving because if something's wrong between me and God, it's definitely on me.
2. Gifts - what I'm thankful for/delighted by in this geographical season.
3. Regrets - perhaps naming them will take away their power and leave freedom in their place.
4. Fears - same as regrets.
5. Excuses - so that I won't have any.
6. Passions - and then spend my time here.

Soon my journal is filled with words and my eyes with tears. Not sad tears, more like resilient tears. Tears that show up when God shows up. Tears that accompany resolve.

The words keep coming and surprise me as they appear on the page...

I want to be content/comfortable with the tension because God is here in it and He is trustworthy, faithful, and worth the wait (even though I don't know what I'm waiting for, which makes it sort of beautiful.)

I won't fight it.
I won't lean toward the negative - that's easy.
I won't wish it resolved sooner.

Instead,
I will find Him in it.
I will praise Him in it.
I will enjoy Him in it.

Yes.

I feel a grin creep onto my face. The goofy one that appears when I feel it. The love I crave.
Jesus loves me. This I know.

This is enough. But there's more.

Jesus knows me. This I love. He likes my company. He laughs at my jokes. He knows my heart and accepts me in spite of it. This too, is enough.

Perhaps you have a list or two to make?

PS. I saw a moose today. There's that grin again. Maybe I've mentioned my preoccupation with finding one, always on the lookout. Helps when someone else has a real camera to prove it.