Time for a Change

Over the past month I've been having dreams about my kids being toddler-young. The dreams are sweet, capturing memorable things about each one that I adored in them. My younger daughter was born with really big lips, still has them to this day, so her baby lips were featured in one of my dreams (odd, I know). In the dream were images of her snuggling up close to me, lips in my face, upset with something in that cute way only toddlers can get away with. (When you've seen adults try to pull anger and cuteness off at the same time, it really doesn't work!) The dreams of my older daughter have featured simply her nearness, which reminds me of years ago (ten, to be exact), being a new mom and getting used to having a new person to love who was ALWAYS there with me. Day in, day out. Exhausting--both mentally and physically, but in looking back, I see it as what jump-started my soul from merely existing to really being alive with passion. I was surprised at these dreams, because I don't usually dream about my children. Right now, life with them is still pretty simple and uncomplicated because they are only ten and seven. There's not much drama relating to them to work through in my dream state at this point. And then I realized that these dreams are not really about them; they are about me coming to terms with the fact that they have changed . . . are changing . . . will always be changing. I'm not okay with them getting older and growing out of those early years, because it means leaving behind a whole world, a whole pattern of living and interacting. But I have to learn to be okay with this inevitable change in them because it's unstoppable. It's all for good. The larger lesson for me in all this is to look around in other areas of my life where I've been fighting change within myself because I'm scared of letting go of old ways and patterns simply because I've gotten used to them, even though they don't serve me. Change always feels awkward and doesn't fit comfortably until you get into the flow of surrender and acceptance---where joy usually shows up.

Here are photos of my daughters standing against an old beech tree. The photos were taken exactly two years apart. Their physical changes are subtle yet dramatic at the same time. But the most important changes have taken place within each of them.

The beech tree as well has undergone dramatic change throughout its centuries in the earth. But the day-to-day physical changes are almost imperceivable. If the tree resisted its growth, though, its natural tendency to reach upward for height and yet also reach deep in the soil to remain anchored and stable would keep it a sapling, just a mere stick of what it could become if it accepted the changes in itself along the way. Change calls forth movement, uncertainty, transformation, discomfort, awkwardness, stops and starts, decision-making, and most important . . . FAITH. Faith in what could be, or hopefully will be. But it's all unknown.

Author Caroline Myss reflects on how life challenges us to move forward instead of remaining in an unyielding, mental mind-set: "Seen symbolically, our life crises tell us that we need to break free of beliefs that no longer serve our personal development. These points at which we must choose to change or to stagnate are our greatest challenges. Every new crossroads means we enter into a new cycle of change . . . . And change inevitably means letting go . . . and moving on to another stage of life."

A Heart Unto My Path

It had been at the end of a particularly emotional week for me when I came upon this heart, which is part of the natural coloration of the old cedar tree. I was surprised to have never noticed it before, because I pass it very often. Just as the saying goes: "When the student is ready, the teacher will appear," the heart appeared in my field of vision when it was the right time to hear its message. It illuminated my path when I was feeling concerned about some life situations. It sent the clear message that "All is as it should be" and that God is always mindful of me. I felt that even though my day had started out with a general sense of loneliness and lack of clarity, I am never alone . . . ever. Reflecting on the world of spirit, I began to remind myself of the invisible world that is always working and weaving in my life: the Holy Spirit and angels, all working to remind me Whose I am. And I'm constantly thankful for the natural-world illuminations, such as hearts in nature, to direct my thoughts to a higher place.

I also noticed the significance of the fact that my "found" heart was on a tree, a cedar tree in particular. In Native American traditions, the cedar tree was thought to have strong protection and cleansing properties for people. Also, the cedar is a tough survivor, withstanding less-than-perfect environmental conditions; therefore it can teach us to anchor ourselves onto a secure foundation and reach not only toward the foundation (which for the tree would be the ground), but to move up, stretching to new heights. A wonderful contrast of darkness and light. This darkness is not the sort to be wary of. The tree does amazing things under the surface of the earth. In the darkness of the soil, it creates, receives nourishment, and prepares to enter it's journey upward. Through these silent roots, so much is taking place in the darkness of creation. Through this dark silence, the roots navigate instinctively, running as long and deep as the tree will need for support. Growth is slow, but steady. To much growth above the surface, and the tree will not be properly supported. Too many roots and not enough action above ground never allows the tree to reach its potential, denying the animals and humans it's canopy, fruit, nuts, beauty, and wood. The ecosystem benefits when a tree has a harmonious balance of darkness and light, silence and growth. They are essential for the success and growth of the tree.

Light and darkness. A wonderful contrast because they actually work together to create life. So when I'm experiencing my "dark" days, I can now understand that they will be perfectly balanced with light-filled ones in which I will come away from the dark circumstance closer to God and, just as important, closer to my true self.

Living Water

Last month I spent the morning with my dear anam cara friend, collecting rocks in a creek near her childhood home. My friend is in her '70s, so it's always special for her to return to her roots and share the area with others. According to her, things haven't changed too much over the past sixty years in the rural area where we were, so I was able to see a snapshot into her early years as a girl in the creek we were in. We parked the car in the shallow part of the creek, put on our rubber boots and gloves, and started searching for any rocks we wanted to take back with us, big or small. (We love rock collecting!) While wading through the water--getting off-balance at times because of the current--I was lulled by the sound of the water flowing and it quickly cleared my mind from all the internal chatter I had arrived at the creek with. I was able to let go of my oft-worrisome stream of consciousness and let the natural stream of water provided by the earth fill my senses, providing a much-needed mental break for me. Even the trees blowing in the wind echoed their own memory of the water that has nourished them since their days as saplings. Their leaves rustling reminded me of ocean waves, gently building in power and volume, then easing off, only to complete the cycle of mimicking the sound of ocean waves again.

Focusing on the water element all morning while combing the creek for rocks brought all sorts of water symbolism to mind. For instance, water itself is a wonderful example of a transformer. It changes shape to fit the environment it is in. If water is in a well, it runs deep into the earth at the source. If it is poured into a container, it will take on the shape of that container. If it is allowed to flow and spread, then it will do so, as in a creek. This reminds me to be flexible in life, yielding and bending and adapting to the life situations that arise in which I often tighten up and fight against, not allowing things to just happen . . . not surrendering and trusting God to be in control of each moment.

If you stop to consider that our bodies are approximately 80% water, then each of us basically operates as a mini ocean, full of water, salt, and oxygen, with everything constantly flowing and and maintaining life within us. Without water, there is no life. Likewise, without Jesus, the Living Water, there is no life. Through God's promise of the Living Water He provides for us, which is Jesus, we have hope that we will always have life . . . eternal life. And we will be eternally restored.

For now, though, it is enough to simply be on this earth, with a dear friend, in a creek, collecting rocks, listening to the ocean-like sounds of the leaves rustling. And when the water from the creek starts to fill my boots after taking a step in an unexpectedly deep spot, I welcome the elemental feel on my skin as a reminder to allow myself to adapt to situations with ease and fluidity.

WATER . . . . the ultimate healer, purifier, transformer.

JESUS . . . the ultimate healer, purifier, transformer.

Oaks and Acorns

My elementary school divided all the students into two teams. It was part of being enrolled in the school. Based on the luck of the draw, kids were either chosen to be an Oak or they were chosen to be an Acorn--a label that followed each of us from kindergarten through sixth grade. Oaks and Acorns competed during the year in various sports and fund-raising activities. The kids reveled in the competition, which often caused hurt feelings and less-than-kind behavior. My sister was an Acorn. I was an Oak. Not good for sibling harmony, since we already did not get along at home, regardless of our Oak or Acorn status. I didn't like the division the school created. Acorns always boasted that they were smarter and stronger. And Oaks gave it right back to them, saying they were the smarter and stronger team. The school even had T-shirts made: Acorns wore brown shirts with an acorn on it, and Oaks wore a green shirt with an oak leaf on it. Supposedly the Oaks were superior (after all, the shirts were green, which was our school color). This led to many overindulgent parents calling the school, demanding their child to be selected as an Oak. Oh Please!

I know the school did not mean to create such unrest. After all, kids who play sports are competing against teams. That's the point of soccer, football, basketball, softball, etc. Competition can be good. But there was something disconcerting about the school having two teams . . . until I gave it a little more thought. You see, the school was really on to something when it created the Oaks and Acorns, it's just that the kids and families didn't live out the bigger picture because their competitive natures got in the way of the lesson: Unity.

I was in high school when I realized that an oak tree produces acorns. (How embarrassing, I know.) I credit my ignorance to my elementary school years and how divided our teams were. In those days it never occurred to me that acorns and oak leaves were part of the same tree. Where unity existed I saw division. I saw competition. I saw walls go up. But Jesus' message of unity opened my eyes and heart. I now understand that we are all part of one unified body--God's complete and whole creation. We all operate as different parts of the whole. I like to think of it this way:

We are all one.

We are all different.

No one is special.

This seems like a harsh statement, but read it again and think . . . We are all of equal importance in God's kingdom. It cannot be another way in His eyes. No one is more valuable than another. No one is "special" because that would mean another is not. We are unique, yes. But better or more special than another? No. Remembering my connection with others keeps me mindful of being compassionate. It keeps me mindful of my competitive nature and how futile it is. It keeps me mindful of showing patience toward others who are struggling. But most important, it reminds me of how my actions can affect so many others, so many parts of the One.

"The human body has many parts, but the many parts make up one whole body. So it is with the body of Christ. Some of us are Jews, some are Gentiles, some are slaves, and some are free. But we have all been baptized into one body by one Spirit, and we all share the same Spirit." 1 Corinthians 12:12-13 (NLT)

"For you are all one in Christ Jesus." Galations 3:28 (NKJV)

And so it is.