The Edge of America…The Edge of Life…

A winter walk on Folly Beach, SC, aka “The Edge of America,” is always a journey to see how the tides have changed the shifting sands of time.  The Morris Island Lighthouse teeters on the edge of existence because the ocean is literally eroding it to the point of collapse.  There is an organized local effort to Save the Lighthouse, a historic landmark, with fundraisers and lobbying for saving its centuries old life.  This grassroots effort seeks to shore up its foundation so that it will not succumb to the pounding waves and end up in an ocean grave.  Whenever I come here I do wonder as I trudge the sandy path, like stomping through snow drifts up north, if the lighthouse will still be there.  I always breathe a deep sigh of relief when I cross the dune threshold and see it standing, still taking the rhythmic and sometimes fierce beatings of the waves, and I echo a silent thanks to the Creator of the universe for allowing this landmark to withstand the forces of nature.

Walking this beach on a warm February day while most of the country is gripped by winter blizzards inspires me to appreciate the solitude of driftwood and dead trees that tell the story of time’s passing; that say “Hey!  Look!  I am still here!  I survive the storms of life and yet I stand strong!”  The shifting sands and the changing tides fill the gaps in my soul with hope that the gritty, salty stuff of life will not topple me but make me stronger.  I am still here and I stand tall because of the mercy and grace of God. 

Annie Dillard says it better about the gaps, the spaces between things: “The gaps are the thing.  The gaps are the spirit’s one home, the altitudes and latitudes so dazzingly spare and clean that the spirit can discover itself like a once-blind man unbound.  The gaps are the clefts in the rock where you cower to see the back parts of God; they are the fissures between mountains and cells the wind lances through, the icy narrowing fiords splitting the cliffs of mystery.  Go into the gaps.  If you can find them; they shift and vanish too.  Stalk the gaps.  Squeak into a gap in the soil, turn, and unlock – more than a maple – a universe.”

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Even the fish catch Steeler Nation Fever!  I saw this Steeler Fan in a Gilligan’s Restaurant in Pawleys Island on our return trip from Pittsburgh via the Myrtle Beach airport.  Each table had their own fish tank and I was very happy to watch this guy flashing the black and gold at ours after the Steelers won the day before.  I take it as a good omen with one week to go before the SuperBowl!

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Free-falling into Beauty & Grace

Let the morning bring me word of your unfailing love, for I have put my trust in you,” is a mainstay quote for me that I have carried with me for more years than I could possibly remember.  It is from Psalm 143 and, in fact, the entire psalm is my adopted, personal creed, that returns to me when I need it the most.  Having these words emblazoned in my memory has helped me stay the course in my life and though I have found myself falling back on them sometimes after the fact of my weaknesses and sin, they do indeed restore me as well.  When I am afraid of free-falling into the abyss, these words (and several other quotes) lift me and instead I am free-falling into beauty and grace, coming to rest safely on the earth.

I guess flying to Pennsylvania last weekend has my head still in the clouds, enjoying the beauty of the snowy landscapes below as we flew over the Appalachian mountains, while praying for safe take-offs and landings.  It’s always amazing to me how a change of perspective can shift priorities and desires into their proper order and places.  A birds-eye view of winter, flying over what a few days before was a major snowstorm, gave me an unexpected new outlook that contrasts sharply from the warmer southern climate, grounds-eye view that has held me for too long.  I missed the snow and didn’t realize how much until I saw it from above!

But now, back on the ground in South Carolina, rested from the busy and wonderful visit with my extended family, I find myself embracing the possibilities of the coming year anew, asking myself what do I want to focus my time and energy on?  I don’t have to hesitate with the answer for I feel it clamoring from my bones…my writing!  This morning in the hours before dawn I started reading and finished a small book by Annie Dillard, “The Writing Life.”  It completely absorbed me, both scaring me and inspiring me, like flying over the snowy mountains.  Years ago I started her Pulitzer prize-winning book “Pilgrim at Tinker Creek,” but sadly, in the midst of child-rearing busyness, I never finished it.  Today, inspired anew by her writing I started it again, thinking if anyone can help me keep my feet on the writing path it would be her.

Her description of a mockingbird free-falling from the gutter of a four story building that she says “was an act as careless and spontaneous as the curl of a stem or the kindling of a star,” is an image, a metaphor, that leaves me catching my breath for the courage to write, to fly with words, to walk the creative path, and to cherish beauty and grace:

“The mockingbird took a single step into the air and dropped.  His wings were still folded against his sides as though he were singing from a limb and not falling, accelerating thirty-two feet per second per second, through empty air.  Just a breath before he would have been dashed to the ground, he unfurled his wings with exact, deliberate care, revealing the broad bars of white, spread his elegant, white-banded tail, and so floated onto the grass.  I had just rounded a corner when his insouciant step caught my eye; there was no one else in sight.  The fact of his free fall was like the old philosophical conundrum about the tree that falls in the forest.  The answer must be, I think, that beauty and grace are performed whether or not we will or sense them.  The least we can do is try to be there.”  Pilgrim at Tinker Creek

Forgive the Unforgiven…

Bitter words from troubled lips, icy stares from cold, dark eyes.

Hatred ‘neath a phony smile, but in your shoes I haven’t walked a mile.

Acts of violence fill the streets, trails of blood from broken hearts.

Anger seethes, brings on disease, causes aching, lonely hearts to freeze.

Forgive the unforgiven, return not their hate. 

Oh, love the unforgiven, their deeds seal their fate.

I must forgive others, as the Lord forgave me.

Cynics kill the spirit, like water on fire, flames fade.

Pride and power chain the pure but breaking free is the Spirit’s cure.

Lord, bring peace to those who fear. Bring love, warm our cold hearts.

Make the enemy a friend and grant forgiveness ever to the end.

Forgive the unforgiven, return not their hate. 

Oh, Love the unforgiven, their deeds seal their fate.

I must forgive others, as the Lord forgave me.               NFR

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Resolution Rebellion

Is my rebelliousnous toward making New Year’s resolutions the sign of a middle-aged frustration with making unsuccessful change in my life?  I WANT to jump on the bandwagon, really I doooo!  I want to be healthier and wealthier and wiser, I DOOOO!  But why then does all this advice on making and KEEPING resolutions grate on my last nerve? Oh, Dr. Oz, just shut up!  First, the commercialized emphasis on living it up and INDULGING during the holidays that has bombarded me since well before Halloween by now has me rationalizing the extra cookie, the extra glass of egg nog with kahlua, the extra 5 pounds, buying an extra pair of shoes for myself, and the avoidance of taking the steps over the elevator to my office.  Now, SUDDENLY since January 2, the same folks are pushing the yoga mats up front at Wal-Mart, color-coordinated plastic storage containers to organize my life, the diet books, the vitamins, the gym memberships, and the heart-healthy check-ups we MUST have to assure our next breath.  Okay, let me say Dr. Oz, Wizard of Perfection, has definitely been promoting health conscious steps throughout this onslaught of indulgence but…Blah, Blah, Blah!

If I make any resolutions it will likely be to turn off the television, stay off FB (ok, that would be hard for me), avoid on-line newspapers, and don’t shop at Wal-Mart for a year.  I think if I IGNORE all the talk of measurable goals, disciplined actions, and reducing stress that I will indeed BE less stressed!  I have a huge book called ”1000 Ways to Simplify Your Life” but I’ve never read it because it stresses me out to even look at it!  I mean, really, if it takes some OCD author to think of a 1000 ways to simplify her life why am I even going to attempt one of them? 

Have we really lost our common sense that we need so many EXPERTS telling us how to live and we can’t think for ourselves anymore?  If I did turn off that tv and stayed off the internet newspapers I bet my culturally-induced anxiety will drop significantly to where my neck stops hurting, I pray more, I play more, I finish more novels than I start, I have time to write, I feel like connecting with nature and taking those once-loved walks.  I like the sounds of it but I’m NOT resolving to do it…I just want to enjoy each day, grateful for LIFE and appreciate the blessings and love that have been the wind beneath my flabby wings for a lifetime.

Post-Note:  Out of curiosity I pulled the huge book off the shelf and took a closer look.  It’s actually UNDER 1000 pages (858 to be exact) ”The Simplicity Reader,” three books in one, by Elaine St. James and each has 100 suggestions to: “Simplify Your Life”, “Inner Simplicity” and “Living the Simple Life”.  I’m no math whiz but that’s a total of 300 things, so if I shoot for pondering one a day I will still have 65 days left in the year to be imperfect or lazy.  Of course, I won’t implement them all (already #6 Plant a Garden has me laughing!) but I think I can manage to find something helpful (here’s one I like, #25 Turn Off the TV!) …maybe it’s time to turn off the tv and the internet and READ a book!

25 years ago today I married this guitar man with a beautiful voice who I met in graduate school at the University of Louisville.  He invited me to hear him sing at an international dinner for students and that was it, the rest is history.  Seems like ages ago!  On this our Silver Anniversary, I am grateful that we are still together through thick and thin, ups and downs, and the many changes life brings raising three children.  He is a good and patient man, a forgiving and loving husband and father.  He sweetly sang his way into my heart then and still does now.  These photos are from Christmas gatherings with friends.  May God bless our journey for another 25 years….Thank you, Pedro!  

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“Gloria in Excelsis Deo”  pen and ink drawing… This drawing is inspired by a decoration in my home of the Nativity and it was our family Christmas card one year.  For me it holds memories of our times together enjoying our young children at Christmas.  Every year I would buy one new decoration for the house and one year it was this ivory-colored Nativity scene that I doubt my children ever noticed and that probably held more meaning for me than anybody else.  That is the way memories are born and grow stronger I suppose, because of the meaning we attach to things and the times in our lives.  This Christmas, we hold our loved ones close in our hearts and treasure those times together. 

“Angels we have heard on high, singing sweetly o’er the plains.   And the mountains in reply, echoing their joyous strains: Gloria in excelsis Deo” HF Hemy  

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This is Abbie, the oldest of the animal children that live in our empty nest.  I don’t mean to leave her out.  She is usually the most normal and low-key of the bunch so it’s easy to ignore her when the others are demanding attention all the time or causing outright trouble.  She is the sweetest girl, most of the time.  Sophia got her in the sixth grade, so with my fuzzy math I think that makes Abbie about 8 years old. 

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Roofus, aka “Houdini”…thought I should mention Roofus (he’s the white dog) since he keeps my feet warm and protects me.  His nickname is “Houdini” because of his almost miraculous disappearing acts from the backyard.  He is the ONLY dog we’ve ever had that jumps the fence just to come to the front door because we took too long to let him in the back door.  Pedro is constantly trying to outsmart him and he finally found a collar the dog can’t wiggle out of when he is tied up.  Even Indie, Corey’s dog, gets in on the act and tries to help Roofus out of his collar by dragging him by the chain.  It’s hilarious!  But maybe dangerous so we have had to stop that magic trickster in his tracks. 

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The Virgin in Art…a treasured book I came across in Asheville over Thanksgiving and just had to have it.  Today, with mint tea in hand, Louis Armstrong Christmas music, the house finally decorated (thanks Corey and Sarah for doing the tree!), candles burning, Roofus keeping my feet warm by sleeping on them, and a cold rain outside on a Sunday afternoon, I finally spent some time in the pages of this beautiful book.  Guess what I found there?  The Christmas Spirit and the peace of God that passeth all understanding, heals all wounds, and forgives all sins!!  Thank you, Lord!

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