The "Obstructive" Tree

         Do you ever experience that moment in life whereby you realize that something is not "quite right"?  It is the same feeling that nurse gets when their patient starts acting "funny" and the nurse proactively sends a urine spec and blood sample to the lab and puts the patient on a full monitor because "something" is going down; it is the same experience that one has when the car you are driving is going 100km/h in the wrong direction and while you do not quite know the right direction, you have that odd feeling, it is the opposite way that you are presently travelling.

          In fact, it seems soooo out of place, that you cannot help but stop your hurried journey to ponder the story behind it in hopes of being able to bring some degree of understanding as to how it got there.

          This picture is not as much of a mystery as one might initially believe; it was taken in the state of New York on a walk.  New York had experienced a massive storm whereby there was a lot of destruction: people's houses were flooded, damaging personal belongings, the intricate subway system was buried underwater, leaving people essentially stranded, and trees and fences uprooted, barricading beautiful walkways and ripping open the backyards of people who had previously had some degree of privacy.

         Despite knowing how it got there, I cannot help but wonder about the life the tree previously had.  Did it ever house a tire swing?  A tree fort?  Did anyone ever lay a blanket out at its feet for a picnic in great company?  Imagine what that tree had heard over the years.

         This was the image that stuck with me through the God-time over the last few days, and what a healing image it has been. Something I never would have anticipated when I stopped my walk a few weeks ago to capture this picture... and in doing so, try to capture my fascination with its beauty.

         Like the state of New York, I am being called to tidy up.  The subway system is now back and functional, people have dried out the majority of their keepsakes and sorted through what is no longer required.  It is not necessary for me to try and remove the trees that have fallen on the path, but instead, smile at them, thank them for their years of fresh air, and walk around - momentarily stepping off the path.  I recall a wise, collared friend saying something similar to this months ago, but I was overwhelmed by these fallen trees and did not think there was even a way around them.

         But now I know better!

          In going around the trees, I need to cut away those who have made my journey more about themselves than their own journey... those who put ultimatums on our "friendship" so that they might get the answers they "require"... those who claim they "are personally invested", but the minute they get the information they seek, the conversation is over immediately.  Those trees are dead, barricading a path, and potential hazards to an already, challenging journey.

         I cannot express how great it feels!  In fact, it is the same emotional confidence that comes from stopping the car, examining a map, and finally heading towards the goal destination; the same feeling that comes when a brewing infection is caught before sepsis occurs or lasting damage created!  It is the assurance that comes when God's own have confirmation that they are on the right path!! :)

        Look out world!  I am cleaning house and taking names! :)

Lenten Love

My earliest memory of Ash Wednesday was walking myself through the shelter belt that sat between our home and that of my grandparents.  I wanted to go to the Ash Wednesday service, but my family had something else going on and wouldn't be attending... so I phoned my grandma and went with her instead.  It was before I really even understood the meaning of the ashes, but from what the priest had mentioned on Sunday, it sounded like fun. 

I remember being confused that we were going "to the altar" twice that night... once, in a solemn procession for ashes to be imposed and once for the Eucharist.  And, while I wish I could say that I came home and read up about the ancient tradition of black marks on the forehead, it took me years to come to understand the true beauty and humility of the evening service. 

Perhaps it was the evening worship that kept drawing me back... something different from the regular Sunday morning at 9am; perhaps it was the "busyness" of getting to leave the pew more than once during the hour, or perhaps it was that feeling of "something more" that continued to pull me back, year after year. 

I recall attending a retreat as a young adult in which the organizational structure of the weekend was a compressed journey through Lent/Easter.  If I recall correctly, we walked through a live (people version) stations of the cross before returning to the common area for a service of ashes.  It was one of the most moving services to date.  Like in the hymn we sang every year at this service, "We offer You our failures, we offer You attempts; the gifts not fully given, the dreams not fully dreamt.  Give our stumblings direction, give our visions wider view, an offering of ashes... an offering to You", it was the first time I really felt God's gentle voice, calling me to follow.    I came away from that weekend knowing that I needed to leave the comfort of my childhood church to expand my horizons.  

While I don't regret this move in the slightest, I cannot help but feel that I am stumbling.  I am happy to trade shifts with coworkers so that they can have Sunday off with their family rather than ensuring I, myself, can attend church.  When asked a challenging question in bible study or an interactive sermon, I would rather reflect inward than process outwardly within that community.  

So, in returning to that hymn that has taken such a wonderful place in my journey, this Lenten season will be a season of offerings; a time in which I can offer attempts of prayer in the hope that over the coming 40 days, God will help my hindrances, ease my "awkwardnesses", and turn my failures into an eventual return to comfort and love through prayer/time with God.  

May these 40 days be a time of renewal and new life from the ashes.  

Yours in prayer, 

Young Seeker

God's Graces

...that moment when you realize that there is something greater than you could ever wrap your head around, happening to you...

...that slice of time in which the world stops spinning at record speeds and you are able to pay witness to some of life's greatest treasures, by utter chance rather than intention...

...that gasp of air that fills your lungs so full of fresh air, it makes you pause and wonder how you got by without a breath so big... 

...that hug of warmth in which there is no doubt, the administrator of the hug, is God himself.

That is the summary of my last 24 hours; I am presently sitting on the hard floor of an airport that I had no intention of passing through and wondering how I have managed to be so lucky. 

In a mere 24 hours, I was privy to a private mass (sorry Anglicans... Eucharist) in which the attendees were the priest and myself.  During which, I was asked to read the first reading from Nehemiah: "do not be grieved, for the joy of the Lord is your strength" and my heart actually started to warm.  Felt like a Grinch moment in which I could literally feel the warmth start in my heart and radiate to the very corner of my being.  A message from God to me... 'do not stress, panic, live in the past... for I am with you, and I am enough joy to override any emotion aside from joy.  I am here, not going anywhere, and holding your hand - you shall not fall.  I will be your strength and joy when you have none.'

Following that, arrived at the local, international airport to find out that the second half of my flight was cancelled; turns out that when the Eastern seaboard gets a bit of white, the flight gets cancelled.  

There were so many reactions that I could have had... so many responses I could have uttered.  Instead, I began chatting with the attendant about New York and what she might recommend as a tourist attraction in the great city while she worked to ensure I could get to New York for Monday morning's session.  After much deliberation, my boarding passes had me flying from home, to the very edge of the Western coast (State's side) before boarding a plane that would then fly me allllll the way to the other corner of the country in the wee hours of the morning. 

I ended up in row four (second row of economy) beside the window.  Clocked my head pretty good on the counsel, making my seat buddy laugh and my tea to spill all over her seat.  Quickly wiped it up, apologized profusely, and proceeded to sit in my seat with my seatbelt fastened.  To my surprise, when flying into San Fran, we flew right over the classic, Golden Gate bridge; the bridge that was integral to my childhood as it was a staple on the television series, "Full House" - something I watched every afternoon for 13 years with my sisters as our break before we started homework.  And I kid you not, the plane actually seemed to be flying in slow motion over the bridge; it was as if God himself was saying, "see? Detours can be rewarding if you stay awake" (metaphorically and literally).  

I then had a short layover in San Fran before boarding a lengthy flight to Newark; ended up in the very last row, kitty corner to the bathroom.  Had the man in front of me leaning his seat back the whole 5.5 hour flight without the ability to lean my chair back, and people pushing themselves into my bubble.  

Instead of freaking out, or digging my gangly long legs into the dork's seat, I curled up in the seat (there was a spare/empty one between me and the window buddy this time) and read the book for this program from start to finish (well, almost start to finish).  Ultimately confirming for me that I am not the only one dealing with this, the people I am going to see know what they are doing, and I am in for a life that is more fantastic than I could ever image or hope for if I stick out for the cure! 

Upon sitting in the (almost) vacated airport waiting for the decent hour to arrive when I could take the train to another train to a taxi/bus to the program... I met not only one, but two incredible people.  Heard their live stories (apparently I have a "tell me" face?) and managed to connect with them on a level that I would have ran away from previously.  

And now... now I am counting down the minutes until I can go to the bathroom, do my hair, change and head to the first of a series of transits to get me to Plainview, NY. 

Events that require open humility... that said, I think I am going to pack this show up and tour the airport a little bit before I change, brush my teeth, and text home to let the peeps know that I am about to head out on the second half of the trip. 

I challenge you today... I challenge you to find those relationships... those moments... those things in your life that could be a toss up between a horrible mess or heaping servings of grace on your plate of life.  I promise that you won't regret it.  It is such an incredibly light and wonderful feeling. 

Peace!

YS