SHAAAARE!

I am about to tell you two stories I have been told by my parents, describing the typical antics demonstrated by this little someone:


In others words, me, at age 2.

First:
When I was a toddler, my parents taught my older brother, Shane, and I about sharing our toys. I picked up on one important aspect of this concept, but didn't, apparently, get the "spirit" of the idea. Mom and Dad would often find me grabbing a toy from my brother, trying to pull it away from him and yelling out, "SHAAARE!!!"

Second:
Mom and Dad took Shane and 2-year-old Greta to a farm once, to visit my Dad's cousin out in Eastern Washington. One of the cows on the farm had recently calved, and Dad's cousin took us to where the baby calf was nibbling grass by itself. The mother cow had temporarily left the calf alone, so we all walked down the grassy hill to view it up close. However, as soon as we got close, the mother cow barreled up from out of nowhere. Shane had enough sense to bolt back up to the truck. Somehow, Mom and Dad neglected to grab their two-year-old--- probably because I was too busy marching up to the giant bovine to order her, "Go away, you big mama cow."

Lately, I've noticed aspects of my two-year-old self emerging, especially as I attempt to accept current workings of God in my life. If we picture God as Shane, myself as the afore-pictured-towhead, and something I want as a shiny toy, then the first scenario is fairly applicable. I try to grab the toy from God, and insist that He SHAAAARE. That's what sharing means, right? God gives me what I want, and it's mine.

...Or not.

Comparing God to a heifer may not be the most respectful second analogy, but we could read into that too. Instead of acknowledging my environment and retreating to the proverbial truck, I find myself marching up to a much larger being than myself and saucily ordering it with a lisp to "Go Away."

The goal right now: to work on letting go of the toys I want to keep for myself. To recognize my frailty as a young, female, human being and accept the Bigness of the One who is a fiercely protective parent. As Annie pointed out, I have more than enough; I don't need to seize any toys that God hasn't currently put in my play-pen. And furthermore, I don't need to tell God to go away, because who am I to tell off a giant cow??

No disrespect Jesus. You understand.

Desert Places

The other day, I was giving my seniors a lecture on common symbols found in literature. One of the ones I hit on was "desert."

"Connotations for desert?" I asked them. "What do we think of when we think 'desert'?"

They chirped up dutifully. "Barren." "Devoid of life." "Death." "HOT." "Yeah, like HELL." "Lonely."

"Absolutely," I said. "You are so brilliant." Then I filled them in on the alternate symbolism of a desert that I'd discovered when researching my lecture.

"Deserts are also common places for spiritual awakenings," I said. "Like... In the Bible, the book of Hosea is all about being stripped down and taken into the desert, away from all the distractions, where there's ONLY God. Disney's a fan-- Simba has his big soul-searching moment with Mufasa-in-the-clouds when he's in the desert... Jesus went into the desert to fast for 40 days... John the Baptist was in the desert. In the Indian epic The Ramayana, the hero, Rama, goes into the desert to train and do all his ascetic practices... You see it all over the place."

Which is odd, right? Why would we associate a barren landscape, something devoid of life, something associated with death, and hell, and loneliness-- with awakening?

We can nod and stroke our chins at the notion. It's an old cliche, I guess-- go through struggles, learn, come out wiser and stronger. So why is it that, when we're IN the desert places, we always forget about the awakening part and become so overwhelmed with how HARD it is?

Me, I can't tell if I'm in the desert right now, the rain-soaked valley attempting to flower into spring-time, or if I'm on a mountain pathway of switchbacks-- super difficult to climb, and difficult to see ahead any fair distance, but promising a great view in a few more hundred feet.

Sometimes I feel like I'm crawling through a desert just to hunt that dancing mirage. Can't for the life of me tell if it's something I made up in my head, or if it's really that real, and that beautiful. Do I slog out the desperate crawl towards it? Or do I turn away and try to find a more promising help, even if there's nothing of that description nearby? This is the fear: I will use up my last bits of strength to seek out the mirage, only to die with a gasp when it dissolves into the shimmering heat. But if I turn away, and it DOES exist... well then I'm just killing myself for the sake of pessimism.

This is all very obscure, I know. I tend to lapse into that.

What I DO know is this: throughout this long, difficult, EMOTIONAL year, there have been many moments when I have collapsed in a heap on the desert sand of my bedroom, and panted out a cry for help. And in that desert place, when there is NOTHING else, when I am spent of every last reserve I've got... God has shown up.

I remember one morning crying under the covers. "I can't do this. Please. I can't go out and live right now."
And I got a picture of being perched on top of a wave, rolling, rolling, rolling forward. Watch me carry you through today.
And then I was carried through.

When there is nothing, He is everything.

What's really hard, I suppose, is when you're in the desert place, and there IS no apparent comforting voice or cooling wave to respond to your cries. I don't really know why God gets us to those places, where we're so entirely bereft of comfort, companionship, or personal strength-- when even He seems to have deserted us.

Maybe God is the oasis-mirage in those moments. Does He exist? Is He worth crawling towards? Or is He something we've been fabricating in our heads? That swimming vision ahead is our only hope-- but it's so tempting to just write Him off altogether. I will grapple with the sand I can feel and curse the hope that beckons me. There is nothing of comfort here. I am alone.

We choose, one way or the other, I guess. According to the Encyclopedia of Symbolism, the ideal outcome of finding oneself in a desert place would be a greater spiritual awakening. We are brought to the desert to cleanse, to clarify, to re-evaluate, to hone, to be tested, and to triumph-- emerging out of the golden dunes as ultimately a wiser, stronger, more centered being. The other choice is to give in to the barren death-- to dig our own graves in the sand before the mirage can disappoint us.

One thing is sure though-- well... I think it is anyway. The desert requires many slow, labored steps to escape. Whatever epiphanies or trials happen on the way-- the goal is to get out. And it's hard getting there. Feet get sore, skin is burnt, throat is parched, and you have to step, step, step. Where is comfort? Where is love? Step, step, step. How long God? Have you forgotten me? Step, step, step.

For those of you in the desert places-- for me squinting at my own personal mirage-- let's keep walking, yes?

There's something to be found in getting through it.

"Life Mission Statements," as penned by my Seniors

Some of my favorites:

My mission in life is to live a life of JOY-- not a joy that is circumstantial, but a joy that is founded on my relationship with Christ. I desire that this joy will leak into every area of my life-- in friendships, in love, in working, and in the midst of difficult circumstances. I want joy to be a lifestyle-- a way that I live and a way that people recognize me.

I want to live something worth writing about, and better yet, worth reading.

DO WHAT YOU LOVE AND NEVER FALL PREY TO OTHER PEOPLE'S WORDS OF DISCOURAGEMENT.

My life's purpose is to do exactly what is not expected of me and has never been done before, because I know without a shadow of a doubt that God's plan for my life has nothing to do with what the rest of the world wants me to be.

- To laugh and smile until I have disgusting face wrinkles.
- To read like Belle or my grandpa.
- To love the ignored/bullied (since I used to know how they feel.)
- To be loyal... like a well trained dog.
- To travel like nobody's business.

Be yourself. You can't be yourself if you don't know, understand, and accept yourself first. Stop caring how people perceive you. Be honest and open. Relax, stop worrying about the worst thing that could happen. Develop and express your individuality. Have productive days. Believe in who you are. Follow your own style.

Throughout my life I plan on being unique rather than follow what other people do. I also plan on having fun as well as influencing people in a positive way.

To live a life that, "rather than [seeking] money, than love, than fame, [seeks] truth." (Henry David Thoreau) To live for Christ alone and the truth He proclaims is the mission. May it be successful.

Continue to have joy and wonder like a child.

I want to live my life not for myself, but for God and others. A life of self-gratification means nothing... I want to be a friend that builds people up and makes them feel better.

To love like a puppy.

My life statement is to live life the way you wanna live it and live it to the fullest. There are so many times in life that people hold back what they really wanna do because they are afraid. You should never let anyone or anything get in your way.

- Never shut my brain down; always look for new things to learn.
- Chase after a life well-lived, not a "good life."
- Place others before myself. In everything.

Some that I don't really agree with, but that got a raised eyebrow and, at times, a grin:

Violence should always be your last resort. If it isn't, then you aren't using enough of it.

Give a man a fish, feed him for a day; take his fish away and tell him he's lucky to be alive, and he'll figure out a way to catch a fish for you to take tomorrow.

To have abbs like the girl from "Step Up 2"-- HIDDEN ABBS! [sic]

There is a verse in the Bible that says, whatever you do, do to your best ability. I would take that mentality one step further and say: whatever you do, do it better than everyone else.

Don't take anything seriously, it's just a waste of time. BE REAL!

Curious? Here's mine:

- To spread goodness and cheer like Santa Claus
- To fight for justice like Wonder Woman
- To adventure like Magellan
- To think like Solomon
- To love like Juliet

But if I had to boil it down to one simple sentence (as I've asked my Seniors to do...) it would be:

To see as He sees,
To love as He loves.

What about you?