Previously, I talked about mourning with the group.
I also talked about coyotes, but let’s face it, we all know I just made that stuff up. You should never trust things you read on the internet, anyway! Except you should entirely and wholeheartedly trust everything in this newsletter – Of course!
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Those cement factories overseas, where people labour in dust and despair, with no relief in sight by the power of unions, would be a hard place to work.
Homeschooling our kids is not as strenuous as working in one of those factories. But neither is homeschooling sitting next to the pool, a martini in hand, flipping through a magazine as we ring a small bell every hour to usher our kids onto their next subject. Homeschooling kids would eat you alive if you tried that.
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My mouth hung open. I stared at the woman walking past me. It was not polite to stare (I know, okay!), but I forgot that my mouth was still hanging open.
I had just worked out at the gym. My muscles were getting EVEN stronger! For example, this time, I didn’t have to go to the far edge of the gym to find lighter weights than the weights set out by our instructor for the group class.
I could use the lightest weights that were ALREADY placed there for the group class INSTEAD of locating even lighter ones!
My muscles were growing, and that’s why I was there! My ego was growing, too! “Look how strong I am getting!” I thought proudly, appreciating my thin little arms with increasing pride.
At the end of the class, as we were putting the weights away, I wiped my brow after picking up and putting away a hefty 10-pound weight.
And that’s when my mouth fell open.
I tried to keep it closed, but I would need both hands to do so, and I didn’t want to drop the weight I was carrying on my foot.
That older woman was carrying 50-pound weights in EACH arm as she helped re-stack the weights.
(!)
I instantly remembered the stories relatives told me of my strapping great-uncle. He was over 6 feet tall, built like a farmer (He was a farmer!) and threw 100-pound sacks of potatoes. “Wow!” I had thought, the day I heard this story.
That same day, I played another game of Candy Crush on my iPad while finishing my ice cream bowl, hoping I could be strong like that!
And so, this year, I joined a gym and began pumping 5-pound weights with full energy and gusto! “Wha-hooo!” I thought, imagining myself pumping 6-pound weights in another six months or so and maybe eventually moving up to 10 pounds in EACH ARM one day!
It turned out that my vision was too small.
Like in a lot of areas of life, during various seasons.
Like for many of us.
How is your vision for who you are becoming, friend?
And so, why should we go to the gym if it’s not solely to work out?
We place ourselves next to others who have a vision for themselves that is greater than the vision we have for ourselves. And seeing another get stronger helps me to have faith that one day, with patience and persistence, I can get a bit stronger, too. Stronger than I ever thought I could be, actually.
Am I willing to pay the price of a bit of sweat?
“One of the standards we ask of our male patients is that they can carry half their body weight in each hand (so full body weight in total) for at least one minute, and for our female patients, we push for 75 percent of that weight.”
Outlive by Peter Attia, MD (Chapter 12)
This goal is not only for the 0.00001% elite but is something that antiaging physicians like Peter Attia recommend that ALL of us who can (barring injuries and ill health) strive to work towards.
I didn’t even know this was possible for someone my age.
And on a not unrelated theme, who do you know, friend, who:
– Seeks to listen to the whispers from God,
– Obeys and is following Him on a journey of adventure,
– Is not (always) a jerk?
Are you willing to pay the price of their lunch? Can you meet with them to have your vision expanded as you listen to them for what is spiritually possible in your life, too?
May you become all that God intended for you, friend.
As the song below plays, consider asking God, can you please recall to my mind or introduce me to someone with an inspiring spiritual vision for their life? What nudges do you sense from God, friend?
You use steel to sharpen steel, and one friend sharpens another.
Image Credits: Woman kneeling beside man by by Jonathan Borba on Unsplash, Bird soaring by by Wolfgang Hasselmann on Unsplash, Tough guy by Xenia Bogarova on Unsplash.
Thank you for liking me! I like you, too!
More and more people like me!
What I mean, of course, is that some of my posts have gotten “likes”! That means you like me, right? I tried to “like” your “like” of my post to show you that I like you, too.
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It’s “combed hair and a clean outfit day” on Restoring Life!
I updated the Restoring Life “Description”, which is located HERE.
The fresh “About” page is located HERE.
The new “About” page is actually an old “About” page I am putting back in place after a time.
The first page, updated HERE, seems to “Fit” better, like a comfortable old shirt, instead of starched slacks.
(What IS starching anyway? And what exactly ARE slacks?) Whatever.
Here is a quote that seems to summarize the essence of Restoring Life’s new “About” page and “Description”:
By an act of faith, [he] said yes to God’s call to travel to an unknown place . . . When he left he had no idea where he was going.
I hope you have fun travelling your life adventure and that you have no idea where you’re going, too!
That’s the funnest way to travel!
And now you know something else about me!
(Or at least, you know more stuff about me that I don’t know, either. Whatever! Same thing!)
Please feel free to return the favour and share something fun about yourself or your journey related to this newsletter in the comments or notes section.
It’s an honor to fly with you, friend.
Thank you for liking me! I like you, too!
I said the one thing that no one thought I would say.
These five words, said quietly, into a rare moment of stillness at the boisterous party quieted every heart in the room.
The silence lasted for a minute, which felt like an eternity in that boisterous room full of shouting and laughter only a second earlier.
Here’s what happened.
They were loudly recounting the tale of the guy* who was poised to win a gold Olympic medal in the sailing competition at the 1988 Olympic Games in Seoul.
Instead of sailing to glory and sitting atop an Olympic podium with his medal, the guy changed course to help fellow COMPETITORS, who were in an overturned boat for 16 hours and were in imminent danger of dying at sea.
“[Insert name] won that race,” the storyteller at my party continued, taking another swig of beer.
“Yeah, and what was the name of the guy who abandoned first place to help the other guy?”
“Who knows?”
The crowd exploded in laughter.
When it was silent again for that millisecond after the guffaws, I spoke up quietly, “God knows who it was.”
Then, there was silence, continued stillness, and awkward shuffling of feet.
Who speaks next, they wondered?
One person sidled up to me after this party, seeking me out for friendship. I had reminded her of something important, something she knew inherently but had forgotten for a while. Something her soul knew, deep down, it would be important to remember in future.
And that’s how I made a new friend that day.
And it’s good to have another friend who will sail over to help you get out of a bind when you are in a sailing race, for example, so you don’t perish at sea.
And there was the time when I was 8 years old, the 12-year-old said, “Give me all your candy!” And I gave it to him, of course. He was ABLE to win, but SHOULD he still do it? All of us know the answer to this question.
And then this week, in the news he said, “Let’s destroy our friend’s economy, an economy built on the pillar of trust in friendship because if we do it, we can win.” And yes, they CAN do it. And, yes, they CAN win.
But having another friend who will come and find you when you are overturned in a boat and imminent danger of perishing has some sort of value, too.
I hope you aren’t caught feeling ashamed on the day when our souls leave our bodies, and we meet God face to face, stripped of all the earthy medals we’ve won.
I’ve been pondering the trade war, started this week between our friends, The Americans, and us Canadians.
Yup, you CAN win.
But what SHOULD you do?
Is it RIGHT?
Thankfully, I don’t need to know the answer to that question.
(That’s between you and God.)
If you are considering exchanging a trophy or two for the kind that last a bit longer consider pondering this statement:
you let [your goods] go with a smile, knowing they couldn’t touch your real treasure
What is your “real treasure”?
Maybe being an (unconventional) loser sometimes has its perks.
For detailed advice on winning the races that matter and thus learning to grow into an even bigger loser, click HERE, HERE and HERE.
You’re welcome!
Good luck!
Footnotes
Photo credit: Trophy by Giorgio Trovato on Unsplash
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Last time, we talked about offering to God those hints of angst that have no words.
For example, while floating in the hot springs pool and minding my own business, I randomly asked God the meaning of life.
“What did it all mean, God?” I found my soul exclaiming, revealing the angst within, if only to my thoughts and to God.
I got no answer.
So, I kept floating and enjoying my life and my family. I forgot I had even asked the question. But I received my answer later that night.
That night, when it was dark, I found myself floating on my back outside in that lonely hot springs pool. As I floated, my eyes gazed heavenward at the wondrous starry display above me. It was calm and quiet, and I was floating – Who knows where?
I found I was wondering if this floating feeling:
. . . if this was – perhaps?- what it would feel like to be close to death, to be in that “not-quite-here” but “not-quite-there-yet” expanse?
I remembered feeling something like this once before when I had nearly finished my degree.
I had to decide WHERE to move to next, to begin my job. I felt like a fish in a directionless fishbowl. Where WOULD I go? And did it matter? Indeed, I could move to the same hometown I grew up in, to my parents, but that wasn’t a given, necessarily, nor even a necessary possibility given employment prospects.
I had no roots to tie me or to pull me.
“Which way do fish in fishbowls travel?” my heart frequently wondered in that season.
Luckily, I married and gravitated to his world, so I didn’t have to think too long of this angst, but that . . . unattached . . . feeling surfaced now and then.
Like all of us, I had been a fish in a fishbowl that generally gravitated toward people I loved. In this way, I was like a small magnet in a fishbowl that would gravitate to a magnet on the side of the bowl. But what if these people are torn from me, like a kid moving out or on, or another relative or friend suddenly moving on or passing on?
Then what?
And that’s when I realized that there is one who is holding me even now, helping me float on my back like my dad did when I was a child. He has always been holding me. Even in the waters of the womb, He held me.
. . you formed me in my mother’s womb . . . Body and soul, I am marvelously made!
And I suddenly understood what it means to be grounded, to have a foundation.
And the people we gravitate towards?
We are attracted to those we love and those who love us – that’s all.
We receive and give love where we can because we are held in the arms of love.
Love for and from others are magnets that we drift towards.
Your love, God, is the trunk that grounds us.
. . the younger son . . . undisciplined and dissipated . . . had gone through all his money . . . He said, ‘All those farmhands working for my father sit down to three meals a day, and here I am starving to death. I’m going back to my father. . .”
When he was still a long way off, his father saw him. [His father’s] heart pounding, [his father] ran out, embraced him, and kissed him.
And your love, pursuing us, holding us as we float through life, is what grounds us like the roots of a great tree.
And so, I felt a little less lost as I dried off and exited the swimming pool that night.
Try it, friend!
I hope you feel lost sometimes, too.
You’re welcome!
Good luck!
“How can we remember our ignorance, which our growth requires, when we are using our knowledge all the time?”
Henry David Thoreau
When the lyrics of this song whisper, “You’re the strength to carry on,” how do you feel? Can you express your thoughts to God? (He’s listening.)
Photo credit: Person lost by Andrew Neel on Unsplash
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I was at the vacation place when my thoughts took me in a direction I didn’t want to go.
“Come back!” I yelled at my thoughts.
“I just want to let my brain think about NOTHING and enjoy my holiday here today, okay? Do I HAVE to go over there with you?” Yet my thoughts beckoned me again and again as I relaxed, floating on the surface of the waters of this glorious hot spring.
I couldn’t help but remember that my grandfather had visited this same vacation spot decades ago.
And then he and my grandmother brought my mother, then a small child.
Then, my mother and father vacationed here with my brother and me when we were small children. (YES! It IS an AMAZING PLACE! NO! I’m NOT going to tell you where it is! That would be for when I know you better – a LOT better! We like that it’s not too crowded, okay?)*
And then I vacationed again with my husband and our small children years before, and now one of my babies ALREADY LEFT HOME (Of course I’m okay with that! WHAT – Are you accusing ME of being maladjusted or something? I would NEVER admit to that! Or BE that. Whatever.)
Anyway, here I was at this same glorious place, with our youngest child, who was already almost a young woman. (No! Why WOULD I be crying!)
I suddenly realized that these people, many of whom had been deep anchors in my life, drawing me near with their love for me, had moved on or moved out or passed by or passed on, yet the younger generations were continuing our tradition and….
“What does it all mean, God?…”
I finally allowed my soul cry out.
“[let] God know your concerns”
I am learning to bear my heart, to lift my questions to God, for Him to analyze like a well-trained Physician. I am having trouble describing my symptoms in words, but this doctor can assess the situation himself. And He knows exactly what drop of medicine my heart healing requires.
He didn’t give me words to make this angst go away with one breath of wind, but I did sense Him draw me close, lean His head against mine, and kiss the top of my head with His love.
Exactly how, I will tell you next time.
For now, I am learning to open my heart to allow the questions that have no words to be lifted to the One who can read the deepest longings of my heart.
Even the soul questions that can’t quite be articulated.
Knowing that He hears me, that He is listening, that He speaks comfort with His love when words aren’t enough is the first step of my journey.
What questions do you have of God? What questions that have no words does your heart long to ask? Let’s help each other lift these feelings of angst to the One that exchanges our mixed-up emotions for His peace.
But being honest about the mess inside was already releasing some pressure.
As the song below plays, when you hear the line, “Days of my youth – Where you going now,” what feelings in your heart can you offer to God as a gift that He so longs to receive? What gift do You sense He longs to offer you in response. Will you take what He is offering you even now, friend?
Footnotes
*And did you know that people from 25 countries read this newsletter? Yeah! I didn’t know there were that many people with nothing to do either! I mean – ahem! – so many people that get such wisdom to run their lives from me! (Or whyever people read this stuff. How would I know why?)
Anyway – You’re welcome! Good luck!
Image Credit: Person floating by Jernej Graj on Unsplash
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Once, when I was a child, I thought everyone was laughing WITH me until I suddenly realized they were laughing AT me!
Wait, that still happens to me, and it happened just last week!
(On reflection, I don’t know whether people were laughing AT or WITH me last week, but does that part REALLY matter, anyway?!)
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There was a snail on the inside of her forearm.
She was our waitress and the sight of the snail was jolting.
But luckily, I FULLY “get” modern fashion trends, including tattoos of snails!
(The snail on her forearm was a tattoo, not a real snail, if you haven’t figured that out yet. Don’t you like my artistic writing? Sometimes, you are completely confused when you read this, but that’s called “art,” not “bad writing.” I’m surprised you don’t know the difference!)
As proven here, I FULLY understand all contemporary styles, including tattoo trends, of course! It’s not like I don’t! But I still thought, “REALLY? – A SNAIL?”
Anyway, I tried to shake off the vision of the weird snail tattoo and order my lunch like regular people who don’t care about that stuff.
That’s when I noticed it.
On the wall of this restaurant, next to the beautiful, artistic photos of the “regular” animals – foxes, bears, salmon, killer whales, eagles, there was a painting of . . . you guessed it – a snail.
(There was also a prominent human smiling skull above all these photos, but OF COURSE, we expect that! See here for a CLEAR explanation of this type of fashion trend. You’re welcome!)
“What the deal with the snails?” my mind pondered, against its will.
I researched snails on Wikipedia – or I mean – I used my innate fashion wisdom to begin to unravel this enigma for you. Fertility symbol from ancient Egypt? Greek symbol of hard work?
“Why the heck do you have a SNAIL tattoo of all animals!” I accidentally blurted as she distractedly approached to take our order. Her eyes were fixed on me, not unlike when we turn a camera lens dial, trying to get it to focus. She was assessing whether she should bare her heart or smack me upside the head.
I suddenly and regrettably remembered the last time I asked a person, “WHY did he have THAT tattoo!” He very firmly told me to (equivalent of) stick my head up my rear end (what a WEIRD saying!) and not to ask such personal questions. “But the tattoo is THERE – for all to see!” I wanted to protest. He was bigger than me, so I nodded, took my coffee from him, and looked down submissively.
But a SNAIL!? Really! WHO can keep their curiosity at bay!
Luckily, this stranger opened her heart to me after sizing me up.
I’m not sure why. She did HAPPEN to be smaller than me. Perhaps I intimidated her with my ( – what it that Trump has? – ) POWER LOOK.
Or maybe she could inherently sense that I was lost on this journey of life, too, and could use some direction.
“Well,” she gushed, “I feel that a snail fits because I am always rushing around and want to slow…”
Rest. God reminded me as she spoke. My word for the year was Rest.
And our hearts melded into one – this stranger and I. It wasn’t the first time this had happened.
I excitedly told her about last month when our church was celebrating its fifteenth-year anniversary. The year Fifteen, God highlighted somehow in my Spirit. I was to research this.
Two ancient feasts that symbolize Rest occurred on the 15th of the month. Jesus’ body was placed in the tomb on the 15th, symbolizing Rest. However, this is not a rest as in doing nothing, but a rest that comes as a bulb in the spring gathers water and warmth from the soil before it does what it must – produce a bloom, creating life from death.
It’s a rest that comes from sitting close to the One we love, listening to His whispers, picking up our shovels in response, and then doing some gardening.
Live in me. Make your home in me just as I do in you. In the same way that a branch can’t bear grapes by itself but only by being joined to the vine, you can’t bear fruit unless you are joined with me.
(Everyone can learn to slow down to listen to our hearts.)
And so, what are the lessons we can learn from snail tattoos, if we are listening?
As the song below plays, consider taking a few deep breaths and then asking God, “How do I need to slow down a little, like a snail?”
Jesus is handing you a sandwich. Got time to take a bite? (May you, too, find your inner or outer snail.)
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Restoring Life 