“Watch out for the rock!” I heard my husband yell from behind as we careened down the river into the massive boulder to our left. Instinctively, shielding my body from a possible painful blow, I did EXACTLY what our guide had told us NOT to do. I leaned away from the rock, causing me to lose my center of gravity, and almost like in slow motion, I felt my kayak capsize. My head went underwater while my body, slowly but uncontrollably, followed.
Be Curious Before Critical. These words greet me every time I walk into my Naturopath’s office. While this reminder is meant to be helpful during my visit, I have found it also applies to internal thoughts and feelings. It is a weekly reminder of a practice I want to build in my life: assuming a posture of curiosity before rushing to criticism when discovering a part of myself.
My daughter and I wore prom dresses to the airport. Beautiful black dresses with pink flowers on the long flowy skirts that had been marked down from several hundred dollars to $19.99. We weren’t shopping for dresses when we innocently walked by the dress section in Macys and noticed the price and the good fortune that they had one in each of our sizes. We only meant to try them on but as we twirled and laughed in the dressing room, we thought, we are going to buy these dresses and wear them. Never mind that neither of us had a prom or formal event in our future.
During my early morning quiet time, I read “Show me a sign of your favor….” (Psalm 86:17a). Then it struck me, like a loud shout of ‘Alleluia” from a congregational member while a preacher is giving his/her sermon to a stoic, mainline church. Without asking, God showed me his favor the previous night. Let me explain.
Recently, a friend said to me as she entered what would be the last day of her husband’s life, “I don’t know any more how to pray.” The heartache expressed in that question – do I pray for him to live? Or do I pray for him to die? – resonated with me through all those times I haven’t been sure how to pray. My response to her, “with groanings too deep for words,” comes straight from Romans 8:26, and reminds us that our prayers need not have words attached.
Over the holidays, I found myself in the kitchen more than usual. I enjoy whipping up a batch of cookies or measuring ingredients for a pie (especially if one of my grandchildren is with me). I enjoy the rich aroma of soup bubbling away on the stove or the smell of freshly baked bread. However, I tend to be an untidy cook. When I plan to get down to cooking seriously, I put on my apron. My apron signals to myself, and those around me, that I mean business. This signal says, “things are going to get messy.” “Take notice - this recipe will take more time and effort than you might expect.” But hopefully, my apron also signals that something wonderful is out there in the future, and the end product will be worth the effort and wait.
