Treasures from the Trail, Part 3 - The Invitation

"Come to me, you who are weary and heavy laden, and I will give you rest." - Jesus

"Mommy, God made this tree just for me," the words of my four-year-old daughter rang through my memory.  I could see her standing in a hollowed-out tree stump fitting perfectly within its contours. "Yes, he did, honey," I answered back, my heart happy to see her delightfully enjoying God's creation.

But now it was I lying in rather than standing in a hollowed-out tree.  Brent and I had stopped to each lunch and regain our strength next to a beautiful waterfall minutes before.  We hiked on from that place along the edge of a lake.  Shortly past lunchtime, Brent stopped again to pump and filter water from the lake, which gave me time to explore, take pictures and breathe in the wonder of this place.

An old tree trunk lay resting on the shore then extending onto the water.  Though I had already felt rejuvenated from our lunch stop, the appeal of  taking my pack off again and lying in the log was too great to resist.  I sat on the log, soaked my feet in the water while photographing my feet as they were being refreshed in the coolness.  Finding I had phone service, I snapped pictures of the scenery and texted messages with photos to my children.  I was so excited about this place of rest I'd discovered but was frantically telling everyone about it and recording it rather than actually entering into the offered rest that was before me.

Finally I turned off my phone and lay down.  Water surrounded me yet could not touch me on either side of the log that cupped my body.  I felt more quiet and peace than I had ever experienced without the help of an anesthesiologist.  I was being held.  God made this tree just for me, I echoed the sentiments of my daughter from years ago.  I suppose you could say I was taking the invitation to rest and be held personally.  The tree was there for me --  yes, for me.  I want to say that's silly and brush it off.  But what if the Creator of all that is allowed me to notice this piece of wood and let it be there right then, for me?

"Don't take things personally," we often say and have said to us.  Yet I believe there is much that we are meant to take personally, to receive as a gift within our person.  I have noticed even the most cynical take to heart  rainbows and shooting stars.  Yes, millions are viewing the same scene.  But God has something that touches us each personally as we view the colors and arc of a rainbow or the brief, gasp-inducing brightness of a star shooting across the night sky.  And we sense something that is beyond us yet speaking a message of love into us.

With an ache I long to be able to express what this time of deep rest did in the deepest parts of me.  I know I came away from there smiling at the love shown me, changed somehow,  open, with a desire to be more aware of God's invitations to me in the future.  I am surprised at how close I came to just giving the scene a thumbs-up, telling everyone about it, loving the idea of a resting log rather than actually entering into it and receiving what my Maker had carved out for me there.

Talking with some friends who had recently hiked in the same area, they mentioned they had gone by the very lake at which we stopped.  "Oh, did you see my log?" I asked, describing it to them gleefully.  They did not at all know what I was talking about, yet God had personal gifts He gave to them on their way as well.

I can sense God's delight when I think of Him watching me open His gift and respond to His invitation to soak my feet, to celebrate His beauty and to enter into the made-just-for-me reclining spot. 

I still smile to think of it.

Bridal Shower Blues

The Pinterestable Standard

I am hosting a bridal shower for my lovely niece Chandra in six days.  It's been 25 years or so since I have attempted such a feat.  Things have changed.  Back in the day we, with scissors, cut out umbrellas from construction paper, wrote people's names on them with Sharpies, and they pinned them to their blouses when entering the party.  The pin wasn't special.  Neither was the paper nor the pen used to write out a person's name.

We provided guests a cake, cute paper plates with matching cups and napkins, punch in a pretty bowl and possibly some nuts and mints -- No.  Wait.  Those were reserved for the wedding reception.  We played corny, wedding-themed games.  It was all really fun and celebratory and, well, unpinteresting.  No one was going to make a collage or photobook or facebook page of the event.

Preparing for Chandra's shower, I had to accept I could not get my computer to print the printable invites I'd purchased, so by hand I wrote out each invitation.  I look at the baby shower invite I just received magneted to my fridge, and notice how professional looking and creative it is.  The shower has a theme!  It's a sailor theme.  And everything on the invitation rhymes.  Things have changed, a lot.

I saw early in the planning I needed to let go of some standard I was comparing my efforts with.  And I was doing fine with that, until I received an email from a friend of the bride, who is a professional photographer, offering to photograph the shower.  Now as I think about the snacks that are to be served and the arrangement on the table, I keep picturing the photographs that will be taken.  Chandra's color for her wedding is blue, in varying shades.  I did consult pinterest to find a blue punch recipe.  It will look great in the pics!  And there are treats I envision dipping in white chocolate dyed blue.  And the desserts that are not blue and can't be injected with blue or topped in blue, well, they will be on blue plates, of course!

It wasn't until I described an idea I had to my good friend, who is helping plan the shower, that I realized how obsessed I had become, having shifted my eyes from the goal of blessing my niece and celebrating her upcoming wedding to the insistence that everything look amazing.  Oreo offers a cookie in the summertime with baby blue centers!  But summer is over, and the blue-filled Oreos are nowhere to be found.  "I have an idea," I exclaimed, to my co-planner, with my brown eyes now lit up blue with excitement.  "I can scrape the centers out of the cookies then dye the frosting blue and reinsert it into the cookies!"

Mind you, there are much more practical things which need to be accomplished.  "What's it like to be inside your head?" my friend asked, as she looked at me with concern.  We had to both laugh about how carried away I can get and obsess, elevating some unimportant details to the status of way important!

As I was emailing my sister this morning about all of this, God reminded me of a lesson He's been teaching me in other areas of my life:  Only He has to be amazing.  I offer Him back the gifts He provides, the ideas He provides with the strength He provides, and it's His job to make things amazing.

Maybe it's amazing enough that my niece survived a severely premature birth, entering the world weighing one pound, ten ounces, was rescued from the steps of a Calcutta orphanage and delivered into my sister's arms three months later.  That she grew to be a  God-loving, bright, beautiful young woman.  That God handpicked a young man who adores her to be her husband.  That we who love her -- the junior highers she ministers to, her family, friends, those she tutors in an after-school program -- get the opportunity to gather to shower her with love, to rejoice with her as she receives what God has for her.  Maybe the reasons He has given us to party together are enough and He's simply inviting us to join in the celebration.

I'm choosing to accept God's invitation to entrust the day, with its planning and details, to Him.

I hope he has blue sprinkles!