Today I fell in love with a baby centipede.
Yup, I know what you are thinking. If you are a boy, it's "Awesome! I wanna see it!" and you already have about twelve plans in your head for scaring a sister or girlfriend or blowing it up or pulling it to pieces or putting it under a microscope and seeing it wiggle. If you are a man, it is probably more along the lines of "That's a little strange, but hey, if that's what you want, I'm cool with it." (Large smile to all you men out there.) If you are female of any age, it is probably something like "Eww!" (Unless, of course, you are like me and find such things fascinating.) If you are a grandparent, you probably don't really care as long as I am happy, well fed, and loved. (and that is why we love grandparents so much.) In any case, now I have reached out to all my audiences, please let me explain.
I was sitting on the back porch this frosty morning, happily enjoying sunshine and the air filling my lungs after my morning exercise when I saw what looked like a tiny worm squirming along the sidewalk in front of me. Upon closer examination, I found that it was, indeed, my new friend the baby centipede. The angle of the sun was such that I could see the shadow of all of its hundred legs as they moved beneath it, and stillness of the morning and the falling leaves and gratitude something shifted. Did you ever stop to think how cool light is, and all of creation, for that matter? Suddenly, I had a moment of complete identification with Einstein and his fascination with light, and Galileo's discovery of the Solar System, and Beethoven's inspiration for "Ode to Joy," and probably Adam and Eve as well - after all, can you imagine just waking up one morning into this world? Yet, it is something I get to experience every day if I will just look. Whatever the actual process of creation, this planet certainly has a Creator. I had a moment with Him and a centipede this morning.
On Monday I found my calling in life. Really. It was kinda out of the blue, and after weeks of seeking I wasn't really looking for it at all in that moment. In fact, I was looking for something completely different. I'd been experiencing a lot of doubts and fears, and was attempting to practice through them, when suddenly I stopped playing and asked "What is going on?" I knew that I had been making the right choices, and it was unusual for me to face such a bombardment when I demonstrated such a determined desire to be in the right state of being. After a prayer, I felt to improvise for a moment on a familiar theme. Leaving that one, I moved on to the next, and suddenly I knew. It was almost like remembering something I'd always known, so obvious that I didn't even know I'd forgotten. It fits my family, my education, my dreams, and is so different that I never would have recognized it had it come in any other way.
What, you may ask, does all this have to do with the title of a Catholic Mass? Everything. Way too often we divide things into separate chunks and pieces, forgetting that they are really about Him, and the "great mystery" really is that the greatest events and people and things are inseparably connected with the small ones; just as the Babe who had the biggest effect on the history of the world came first to animals in a stable. It really is all connected. Even the centipede.
Wednesday, November 17, 2010
Monday, November 15, 2010
Timp: The Real Story
SayGoBeDo is not just about doing, I'm discovering. It is about trusting. Good people, those who really make a difference for the better the world over, are those who find the right Voice and not only listen, but trust it, whether they call it Allah or the Universe or Jesus Christ. Here is an example of one such moment in my life recently, in an excerpt from a letter to a missionary serving in South America. Let me know what you think.
Hola! Greetings from the land of cold and freezing rain. I am so glad to read your emails, and hear how the work is coming from the land of sunshine and steamy jungles (do you actually have steamy jungles in Paraguay?) Actually, it has been gorgeous here until very recently, and we have had tremendous hikes, including one very eventful one up Mount Timpanogos a few weeks ago. Because I believe we can learn so much about our purpose on earth from nature, do you mind if I share a bit of that experience? Thanks. :)
So there we were, about an hour or two into the 4 hour hike up the huge mountain, and it was nearing midnight. We had heard that hiking Timp at night so as to see the sunrise from the top is one of the best hikes in the whole area, so we decided to give it a go. We left house after work at around 9, and our plan was to climb to the top, sleep for two or three hours, watch the miracle of nature in the morning, then come back in the morning in time to work again the next day.
As we discovered just a few minutes into the hike, traveling in a small group through the densely treed wilderness in the middle of the night is no easy can of oysters. We had several scares of having large animals crash through the underbrush at what seemed like frighteningly close distances, and the girls in the group were just a little jittery (the man, of course, was strong and stoic as always.) We were very grateful for the small light our flashlight and headlamp could give. At one point I was quite terrified by seeing two glowing things in the distance that I took for the light reflecting off of a sign or something, and then suddenly discovering that they were eyes. It turned out to be a deer, but I have rarely been so uncharitable to a deer in my life. Just a few steps after, the batteries in one of our flashlights went out. I asked where the third one was. It wasn't. You can imagine my dismay when I discovered that my tiny headlamp was the only remaining source of light we had in that vast wilderness, and that I had not added new batteries here either.
However, it was dark in front and dark behind, so we decided we might as well keep going. I began to have visions of us spending the night somewhere on the trail in the pitch blackness. I took the lead with my headlamp, and began to pray silently. I knew that in many ways this predicament was our own fault, but I still pled with a merciful God to have compassion on us. Again, it is difficult to describe how big and black the wilderness is when you are out in the middle of it with no tent and only one faint light. As I prayed, I felt assured that our Father heard, and that we would have light. On the outside, it seemed that this would be less and less likely as my headlamp continued to flicker and grow dimmer - at more than one point it was only the faintest glow, not really a light at all - yet still I trusted in the Voice that told me we would have light. Finally, I announced to the others that we would be going in the dark and save the light of the headlamp for when we really needed it. I turned it off and we continued. It was VERY dark, and at points we had to strain to see the trail. Still, I trusted in the voice of the Spirit, that somehow we would have light when we needed it.
We went on in the dark for probably five or ten minutes, maybe a little longer, when I suddenly felt the urge to look behind me to the mountain sheltering our path to the south. There was a glow behind it. I could have cried for joy. Turning to the others, I said "Good news. We are about to have light." Within moments we walked into a patch of moonlight so bright that even a floodlight would have done little to aid our ability to see more clearly. We saw the trail and the bits of darkness caused by the trees held no fear. That moonlight carried us the entire way to the top, so that we no longer had even the smallest need for a flashlight for the rest of our journey. Once the moon arose, the trail ceased to be a terror and became instead a spiritual and emotional as well as a physical journey of discovery.
The point is, as you have already guessed, first that God always keeps His promises. Always. Even when the light begins to flicker and you wonder how much power He has over Energizer. I have no doubt that He can extend the life of batteries, but instead He gave us something even better. He is the Light of the World, and that His light shines in even the darkest places.
I know He lives! I know that He works miracles in your life as well as mine!
Much love! I'd keep going but I, too, must sleep.
Goodnight!
Emily
Hola! Greetings from the land of cold and freezing rain. I am so glad to read your emails, and hear how the work is coming from the land of sunshine and steamy jungles (do you actually have steamy jungles in Paraguay?) Actually, it has been gorgeous here until very recently, and we have had tremendous hikes, including one very eventful one up Mount Timpanogos a few weeks ago. Because I believe we can learn so much about our purpose on earth from nature, do you mind if I share a bit of that experience? Thanks. :)
So there we were, about an hour or two into the 4 hour hike up the huge mountain, and it was nearing midnight. We had heard that hiking Timp at night so as to see the sunrise from the top is one of the best hikes in the whole area, so we decided to give it a go. We left house after work at around 9, and our plan was to climb to the top, sleep for two or three hours, watch the miracle of nature in the morning, then come back in the morning in time to work again the next day.
As we discovered just a few minutes into the hike, traveling in a small group through the densely treed wilderness in the middle of the night is no easy can of oysters. We had several scares of having large animals crash through the underbrush at what seemed like frighteningly close distances, and the girls in the group were just a little jittery (the man, of course, was strong and stoic as always.) We were very grateful for the small light our flashlight and headlamp could give. At one point I was quite terrified by seeing two glowing things in the distance that I took for the light reflecting off of a sign or something, and then suddenly discovering that they were eyes. It turned out to be a deer, but I have rarely been so uncharitable to a deer in my life. Just a few steps after, the batteries in one of our flashlights went out. I asked where the third one was. It wasn't. You can imagine my dismay when I discovered that my tiny headlamp was the only remaining source of light we had in that vast wilderness, and that I had not added new batteries here either.
However, it was dark in front and dark behind, so we decided we might as well keep going. I began to have visions of us spending the night somewhere on the trail in the pitch blackness. I took the lead with my headlamp, and began to pray silently. I knew that in many ways this predicament was our own fault, but I still pled with a merciful God to have compassion on us. Again, it is difficult to describe how big and black the wilderness is when you are out in the middle of it with no tent and only one faint light. As I prayed, I felt assured that our Father heard, and that we would have light. On the outside, it seemed that this would be less and less likely as my headlamp continued to flicker and grow dimmer - at more than one point it was only the faintest glow, not really a light at all - yet still I trusted in the Voice that told me we would have light. Finally, I announced to the others that we would be going in the dark and save the light of the headlamp for when we really needed it. I turned it off and we continued. It was VERY dark, and at points we had to strain to see the trail. Still, I trusted in the voice of the Spirit, that somehow we would have light when we needed it.
We went on in the dark for probably five or ten minutes, maybe a little longer, when I suddenly felt the urge to look behind me to the mountain sheltering our path to the south. There was a glow behind it. I could have cried for joy. Turning to the others, I said "Good news. We are about to have light." Within moments we walked into a patch of moonlight so bright that even a floodlight would have done little to aid our ability to see more clearly. We saw the trail and the bits of darkness caused by the trees held no fear. That moonlight carried us the entire way to the top, so that we no longer had even the smallest need for a flashlight for the rest of our journey. Once the moon arose, the trail ceased to be a terror and became instead a spiritual and emotional as well as a physical journey of discovery.
The point is, as you have already guessed, first that God always keeps His promises. Always. Even when the light begins to flicker and you wonder how much power He has over Energizer. I have no doubt that He can extend the life of batteries, but instead He gave us something even better. He is the Light of the World, and that His light shines in even the darkest places.
I know He lives! I know that He works miracles in your life as well as mine!
Much love! I'd keep going but I, too, must sleep.
Goodnight!
Emily
Tuesday, November 9, 2010
Little Things...
I really do love them. For instance, Friday morning Paul, Heidi, and I planned a crash course blind date to Logan - for that evening. There are few things more delightful in the world than jumping onto oversized Luvsacs in an abandoned game room after making and eating one of the worlds best Honduran meals. For those of you who have not yet discovered Baleatas - now is the time! Needless to say, we enjoyed the time with our new"blind" friends.
Saturday my brother and I came out of rehearsal with a prayer to be able to find people to serve. That prayer was answered immediately. We passed a car pulled off on the side of the freeway, a common occurance, but suddenly we both knew we needed to stop. She didn't have a cell phone and was missing a jack for her flat tire. When our equipment couldn't loosen the nuts, we drove her home, and with the assistance of her husband and neighbor, succeeded in changing the tire. I am so grateful for acting on inspiration - say go be do - that answers prayers, both hers and ours.
The hike on Saturday? 500 pictures couldn't do it justice. I know, todays snow may put a damper on things, but if you haven't been out yet this fall, in the words of one of my most distinguished friends, "you've got to go!"
Saturday my brother and I came out of rehearsal with a prayer to be able to find people to serve. That prayer was answered immediately. We passed a car pulled off on the side of the freeway, a common occurance, but suddenly we both knew we needed to stop. She didn't have a cell phone and was missing a jack for her flat tire. When our equipment couldn't loosen the nuts, we drove her home, and with the assistance of her husband and neighbor, succeeded in changing the tire. I am so grateful for acting on inspiration - say go be do - that answers prayers, both hers and ours.
The hike on Saturday? 500 pictures couldn't do it justice. I know, todays snow may put a damper on things, but if you haven't been out yet this fall, in the words of one of my most distinguished friends, "you've got to go!"
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