Creative and Courageous in Colorado

I recently took a trip that I have dreamed about for a while, and didn't think would ever actually happen. I took a train on an 18-hour ride from Chicago to Denver, and spent a few days in the spectacular mountains of Colorado! On my own, this would be impossible. But the Lord went with me, and he made it possible for two very dear friends to go with us too! 

My brother, Kevan, has taught me that anything is accessible when people are creative and courageous, and I definitely saw that demonstrated on this adventure. Here's some examples...

• First of all, my dad is a true McGyver-genius. This summer, he adapted my portable "Connie lift" (which connects directly to the back of my chair and plugs in to run off the battery) so that it's made of two pieces of light and strong aluminum, making it even easier to pack, transport, and handle (in my preppy-looking golf club bag!). This baby went everywhere with us, and did all the lifting so the girls and I were safe and comfortable the whole time.
• I have to give major kudos to the state of Colorado for their accessible restrooms and transportation. Big, private, family restrooms were basically everywhere, so I never had to cut our outings short to run back to the hotel multiple times a day. Family restrooms in public places are. the. BEST. (Take note, rest of America.)
• The sleeper car attendants on the train were really wonderful and helpful, checking on me frequently, taking room-service meal orders, and providing three extra pillows just so I could comfortably sleep on the cot through the night (which I did... slept like a log!).
• Then there's the waiter at Hard Rock Cafe in Denver... the silverware was too heavy and cumbersome for me to handle, and he couldn't find plasticware in their kitchen. I told him it was fine and I'd make it work, but he ran outside (in the rain) and across the street to get a plastic fork from another restaurant, and brought it back for me anyway.
• Thank you to the National Parks for being wheelchair-friendly! There were paths I could take everywhere we went - paved or dirt, flat or hilly, but always scenic and beautiful. It was such a blessing to feel free to hike to summits, stroll along sparkling lakes, and climb red rocks! 

• My favorite story from the trip was in Estes Park at the aerial tramway, which claimed to be accessible. True, there was a ramp, and true, there were no steps, but... to get from the ramp to the tramcar, there was a pretty hefty gap that my chair wouldn't cross. The two middle-aged ladies in charge did their best but realized the challenge was beyond them. Just when I thought they would say "Sorry, we can't do it," they looked at each other and both said, "We'll call Adrian." A couple minutes later, the tram came down the mountain toward us, and a young guy with sunglasses on could be seen, fists on hips like Superman, and a wide confident grin on his face. Adrian, I presume, I thought, amused but doubtful of his abilities. He came over and took a good look at all angles of my chair, asked a couple good questions about it (NOT including, "How fast does that thing go?") and tested some handholds. Then he gave me a few instructions on how to angle my wheels and a few explanations of what he was about to try, and before I could be scared, I was safely in the tramcar! Adrian is a magician! No, but he's an engineering student who, I'm convinced, has other disabled people in his life... this was clearly not his first attempt. He actually had adapted the platform at the top of the mountain so that it truly was more accessible. So we went to the top, got a coffee and some souvenirs, fed the chipmunks, and then let Adrian accompany us safely back to the bottom.
  
  
  
  
• Last but definitely not least, Pam and Rachel - the most creative and courageous of all! They both were full of energy, strength, optimism, and hope through the whole journey. Nothing phased them. They constantly were paying attention to find the best places, views, and activities that we could do together, so that I forgot that I had a disability at all. On the last day, the only disappointment we faced was that we couldn't figure out how to navigate the mineral hotsprings spa that claimed to be accessible, but really wasn't at all. We'd been looking forward to it all week, but I tried to forget it and hide my disappointment. But these girls took me back to the hotel, ran a hot bath scented with lavender oil, turned on soothing music, and gave me some time to soak and relax. A perfect, peaceful end to a thrilling and adventurous week. Pam and Rachel were the perfect people to join me, and they made this a trip I will cherish forever. 

Whatever limits or challenges you face, remember that God is creative and courageous, and the master of tackling what seems impossible to us. When we put our hope in him and look for people around us who live out these aspects of his image, the possibilities are endless - and adventure awaits!

Fountain of Life and Justice

"Look back therefore, rise to the heights, go to that place where once God hath spoken, and there thou wilt find the fountain of justice, where is the fountain of life. 'For with thee is the fountain of life' [Psalm 36:9]." - St Augustine

I love that St. Augustine says here that the fountain of life is found at the fountain of justice, which is found with God. That is very full of hope, when you really consider it. I look to God as the only true giver of justice and life - and he gives both perfectly and fully.

I've been thinking about this quote a lot this week, because it is used in a book by Elisabeth Elliott that Mom and I have been reading together on our road trip to Florida...

We drove to St. Augustine, FL, on Saturday. For all the times we've come to Florida, I've never visited "the oldest city in America." So, we did this time. We had an amazing dinner at The Columbia, an absolutely beautiful (and romantic!) Spanish restaurant in historic downtown. The next day, we did a trolley tour, bought some souvenirs, admired the peacocks, and visited the legendary Fountain of Youth, which Ponce de Leon is said to have discovered. It was rather anticlimactic, as the "Fountain" was merely a fresh water spring enclosed in a hut, which we drank from in little plastic cups. Not that I really thought it was magical, but I thought they'd at least try to make the experience more magical. At any rate, I decided I'd much rather drink from the Fountain of Life and Justice, than be forever young.

We went on down to Jupiter after that... which has been different, strange, and a bit sad, since it's the first time we've been here since Grandpa Jack passed away in October. But we know he drank from the Fountain of Life and Justice, so we choose to live fully and joyfully. We are staying in a hotel by the bridge, and spend most of our time on the beach, soaking in the sun. When we're not on the beach, we're eating the best seafood ever! We realized that we've been coming here so often (and it's Mom's hometown) that we can comfortably and confidently do things that the locals do - hang out at Dubois Park, eat at the Dune Dog, and wear our bathing suits everywhere. But since we don't live here, we can also have fun doing things that tourists do! We went on a boat tour around Jupiter Island, visited Palm Beach Gardens, and had conch fritters and pina coladas on the boat dock at the Rustic Inn Crab House. Our hotel is pet-friendly, so we've met a lot of really cute dogs here... and apparently it's the beginning of spring training in the baseball world, so we're surrounded by plenty of St. Louis Cardinals fans!

Tuesday we went down to Fort Lauderdale to visit the Perrys... our dear friends whom I've known my whole life and who have always lived out loving ministry in a very authentic way. We had a charming tea party of M&M cookies and tea (Sprite, for the kids), and I got to be the honorary "auntie" to Rachel and Linda's kids - seven little ones, and counting! A few hours at the Perry house is refreshing and restorative to the soul. I really believe the Fountain of Life and Justice flows freely and generously there.

That evening, my wheelchair hit its 1700 mile marker. When it happened, I was talking to a friend from Indiana who had just attended the funeral of a boy that was in our youth program. Such a tragic story, full of so much in-justice and un-life. It's hard to find joy and hope in those moments. Even in the midst of such a fun and memorable week, this has been a shadow over my heart, as I grieved for the families and wished I could be there to comfort and offer ...something. But what could I say or do?

Remember that book I mentioned earlier, that Mom and I were reading? The one with the cool St. Augustine quote? Well, the title of the book is, "Trusting God in a Twisted World." She talks a lot about death and other things that cause us to ask God "Why?". Really good thoughts and reflections, but I just keep coming back to that St. Augustine quote... and there's a fountain right outside of our hotel that brings it to mind too. Fountains are refreshing springs that never run dry, never get tired, never stop giving. And when I find myself again and again faced with tragedies in this world that is so twisted by injustice and the curse of death, the only thing I can do is trust the Lord, and run back to that Fountain that sustains me. And he is my joy, my life, my strength forever.

A Short Rest... much like the Hobbit

Of course, the question now is, if Connie isn't in the Hobbit Hole anymore, where is she? Well, after living and serving in Fort Wayne for four years, and after a summer of travelling the country (quite literally), I am back in North Carolina, staying at my parents' house for a while to rest and get refreshed, so I can regain some strength and energy, and be ready for the next big adventure... kind of like in chapter 3 of The Hobbit, when Bilbo and the company of dwarves went to Rivendell (for the Hobbit fans out there).

In fact, the account in Tolkien's book, of the respite with the elves, sounds amazingly similar to my own experience in coming home, from the warmer air, to the people who knew Bilbo so well, to the place being a bit out-of-the-way for their journey, to even the silly songs and long stories told by the elves - in my case, by my awesome nephews.

"All of them... grew refreshed and strong in a few days there. Their clothes were mended as well as their bruises, their tempers and their hopes. Their bags were filled with food and provisions light to carry but strong to bring them over the mountain passes. Their plans were improved with the best advice..." 

I have a pretty good idea of where my next adventure will take me, but like Bilbo, I don't quite know what route to take or how long it will take me to get there. I feel like I have a sort of map and a sort of plan, but the directions are confusing and mysterious to me. So I am here to rest, breathe, listen, seek the Lord, and receive wise counsel from people I trust. I intend to do a lot of reading and writing during this time as well, so check this page regularly if you want to know how the "secret runes" get deciphered and where the map leads...

Grand thoughts in a deep canyon

Yesterday, my friends, Mary and Anna, and I spent the day hiking around the South Rim of the Grand Canyon. Whenever they wanted to climb down a little ways or out to an outcropping, I sat in the shade and journaled. Here are some of the things I wrote...

"For the Lord is the great God, the great King above all gods. In his hand are the depths of the earth, and the mountain peaks belong to him..." ~Psalm 95:3-4

Father, your Word says that you hold the depths of the earth in your hand. It also says that if I tried to make my bed in the depths, that it is not too deep for you to be there with me. And later it says that nothing is too high or too deep to separate me from your Love. I'm thinking of these things because I'm sitting here on the rim of the grandest canyon I've ever imagined, looking into its vast depths that take my breath away. And as I hear the wind sing in the abyss and rustle in the tree tops and then sweep up to loosen the curls and strands of my hair around my face, I am comforted... because I have been lost in the depths for a while now, and the darkness and weightiness of it has threatened to crush me, body and soul, and at times I have wondered if I have gone too deep to be able to return... to hear your voice like I used to, to have joy and delight as I used to, to have the kind of hope I used to have. Will life ever be the same? Will you and I ever be the same?

No, I don't think it will, and I don't think we will either. And at this moment, I think you are trying to let me know that that is a good thing. I could stay on the surface, or in the shallower valleys of your love, and feel safe and confident in what I know of you. But it is here in the depths that I begin to realize and be amazed at how big, how deep, how vast, how grand Your love for me really is... and how grand you are. If I didn't experience the depths, I would never know that you were there too, and that you were holding even the lowest, darkness, most hopeless moments of my life in your hands. Your presence and your faithfulness are all the more awesome from this point of view.

The sun is setting now... I can see it visibly sink behind the far edge of the canyon, until only a golden haze and a dusky pink blush remain. I was wishing that You would speak to me out here today, that in the silence I would know exactly what you want me to do about everything that is holding my heart in the depths, that you would tell me how to get out of the depths, that you would show me where to place my feet and the paved path you want me to walk on. But today you didn't... you just reminded me that you see me in the depths, that you are with me and you are holding me... that no depth is beyond your reach. And that is enough for me to be sure of today.

Summer Adventures - Part 3, The South

After Florida, Mom and I returned to North Carolina, where I got to have a ladies' tea party and speak in front of a women's group of about 55 people at my home church. It was so fun, and I got to see some very dear ladies who have been a part of my life at different times and stages, and who continue to bless and encourage me.  

I also got to share at another church in town, to a mission board that has been very supportive of my ministry for a long time. My friend Tim is the leader of the board, and he was my Bible teacher/spiritual mentor through middle and high school, and because of his background and passion for missions and God's Word, he had a huge influence on the decisions I've made with my work. He got up to introduce me to the group last week and said, "For those of you who don't know her, this is Connie, and she is my favorite missionary." Well, I hardly needed to say anything after that - what a recommendation!

Besides speaking, I did get to just have some fun while I was home with my parents too - doing puzzles, having picnics, watching old tv shows, and eating ice cream. Anna and I went downtown Friday night for the gallery hop and all the craziness of street performances (Winston-Salem can be a pretty hopping place in the summer!), and Hayden took me to get "southern soul food" (which can be identified when the "vegetable" category of the menu includes macaroni and cheese, apple sauce, cole slaw, and fried okra).

I got to catch up with a few other friends too, and it was actually kind of hard to leave this time. When life is changing and I don't know what lies ahead, nothing is quite so comforting as being at Home.

Summer adventures - Part 2, South East

Last week, I came down for a quick stop in my hometown, and got to connect with my friend Richard, who has made the Hobbit Hole his home away from home for the past two years. He told me about his plans to go to Africa in the fall with YWAM, which I was just thrilled to hear. While he's still at home, he isn't wasting his desire to serve in ministry - he's been volunteering with World Relief and also has had good friendships with the exchange students at his school. We talked about Fort Wayne, and all the people we both love there, and he took me over to visit the World Relief office in High Point.  I got to talk to the volunteer director, and hear about the refugees who have settled in the area, and how the local Church has been so involved in reaching out to them. We asked about any needs or concerns, and got to pray with the director before we left, and once again it was good to be reminded of God's work in even unassuming little places like this.

Next day, Mom and I went down to Florida and stayed with my Grandpa Jack in Jupiter. My Aunt Lori had invited me to speak at her church small group, so I did that Saturday night. I shared about what God is doing in Fort Wayne, and after the meeting many people wanted to share with me what God has been up to in their lives. It was a "mega-church" - the kind I'm always pretty suspicious of - but the things I got to hear and see and be a part of for a few hours were very encouraging. The group leader talked to me for a while, and then impulsively reached in his pocket and stuffed some dollar bills in my hand. "I just feel like God wants me to give this to you," he said. "I don't even know how much, He just said to give you what I have. Not really sure why, except that your story blessed me." I waited until we left to even look at it and count it, and carefully tuck it away.

The next day, we got to visit with Jenni, a dear friend and mentor to me, someone who has greatly impacted me and my desire to live in organic, intentional ministry. She told me about her family - her kids, who are like cousins to me, and her 16 (and counting) grandkids - and about the ongoing ministry she has at her house, as an open door and a safe place for people in need. I always love my visits with Jenni, though they are never long enough.

That night I hurt my ankle pretty bad, so the next day we drove back to NC, where I went to the doctor, got X-rays, and learned that I had sprained and bruised it, and with ice and elevation it would be ok. Of course, my insurance is in Indiana, so I was going to have to pay for my visit. And would you believe it, when the receptionist told me what I owed, it was the amount that the group leader at my aunt's church stuffed into my hand. What a blessing and relief that I could count out the amount in cash right there and have it taken care of!

Summer adventures, Part 1 - North East

You know what I really love? I love travelling around and seeing how God is working in different parts of the world. I've driven 4,000 miles in the past 4 weeks. In my van, of course. My wheelchair, Svante, is about to reach his 1100 mile marker though, so I think that's worth mentioning too. I've had a hard time knowing how much of this travelling I should report "vacation" or "business," because it all feels related to my responsibilities as a servant of Jesus, but to me, my work is fun and a dream come true.

Hannah and I took a trip to New England recently. We started by driving to New Jersey and visiting Ellis Island and the Statue of Liberty - amazing places that I definitely wanted to see since I love and serve international refugees. It reminded me of two important things - that for a long time, America has been a place of hope and freedom and new life for people all over the world, and that as great as America is in that respect, my home is with Jesus and he is the truest source of hope and freedom and new life for anyone who turns to him.

From there, we went to New Hartford, Connecticut, to visit our friend Amy, who is home on furlough from ministry in Uganda. She's raising support and getting ready to go back out later this summer for another long stretch of service. Her dad is the pastor of a small church family that meets in an old historical building, and we got to worship with them on Mother's Day and share lunch with her family. It was a lot of fun, but also very good to hear from Amy about what is going on in Uganda and learn more about the needs there so we know better how to pray for her and support her. We got to talk through some things she's struggling with, I helped her come up with some fundraising ideas.

We left Connecticut and went on to Portland, Maine, which I think is the furthest northeast corner of the world I've been to so far. It was so refreshing to be by the ocean, and the seafood was incredible. But we went there primarily to visit a ministry called The Root Cellar. Located downtown, it offers a lot of different services to the people directly in that community. We got a tour of the facility, I got to visit the ESL program, and talked with a few of the staff members for a while. Again, it was good to hear how the ministry has grown out of the faithfulness and prayers of the workers, and to hear about ways we can pray for and support their work.

We drove back to Fort Wayne, ending the first part - the NE part - of this summer's adventures!

The daffodil post of 2014!

This week I'm in New England! It's so beautiful here, and I will share more about my adventures in the next few days. But the other day we went to a daffodil farm in Connecticut, and I realized I hadn't written my traditional annual daffodil post yet (daffodils are my all-time favorite flower), so what better way to post about it than with this unique opportunity!

I usually try to write a poem about daffodils, but at the farm, this poem by William Wordsworth was etched in a stone slab on the ground... and I think it's better than I could have written this year:

I wandered lonely as a cloud

That floats on high o'er vales and hills,

When all at once I saw a crowd,

A host, of golden daffodils;

Beside the lake, beneath the trees,

Fluttering and dancing in the breeze.

Continuous as the stars that shine

And twinkle on the milky way,

They stretched in never-ending line

Along the margin of a bay:

Ten thousand saw I at a glance,

Tossing their heads in sprightly dance.

The waves beside them danced; but they

Out-did the sparkling waves in glee:

A poet could not but be gay,

In such a jocund company:

I gazed—and gazed—but little thought

What wealth the show to me had brought:

For oft, when on my couch I lie

In vacant or in pensive mood,

They flash upon that inward eye

Which is the bliss of solitude;

And then my heart with pleasure fills,

And dances with the daffodils.

Of course, inspired by Wordsworth...

Fields of Daffodils!

Hannah, me, Amy, and Janna

A Hobbit's Tale, by Constance Baggins

Looking back at our tracks through the sandy clay loam earth of Oregon...
and at the unwavering faithfulness of God.

Three hobbits sit together around their favorite spot - the dinner table - enjoying some of their favorite past times - feasting and telling stories, reminiscing on grand adventures gone by.

Constance Baggins licks her sticky fingers and watches her friends on either side of her, trying to imagine how she could have ever gotten this far without them. She is tired and a little weary of the unexpected journey that is long and difficult, but also feels stronger and braver because of her companions. Hannah (Bangses) Gamgee - the faithful, gentle, quietly heroic one - twiddls her fork in her Carolina salad, a symbol of the faraway home and garden that she left behind to help and support Constance. Brie(henihenihooeyha) Took - the most adventurous, delightfully unpredictable, and magical one - grins at her giant hamburger with sparkling eyes for only a moment before taking a huge bite and closing her eyes in satisfaction.

"What has been our 'ring'?" Brie asks after many stories have been remembered. "Our ring of power, which calls to us, and tries to overpower us... that we carry and bear for one another with the intent to overcome and destroy?"

"Security," Constance says solemnly. "We think we want it, need it, but we really don't. And when we become content enough to cast it aside, something happens to us to make us desperately grasp for it again."

The three hobbits quietly chew their food in thought, each one recalling the physical, emotional, relational, financial, and spiritual battles they have fought over the past couple years.

"We think we can control it, and use it against our enemy..." Brie says.

"Thinking, 'If only I had...' then I could be stronger and more effective," Constance interjects.

"...But all that really happens is that it binds us and pulls us into darkness..." Brie continues.

"It doesn't bind us, but it calls to us," Hannah corrected. "The only power it has is what we give to it. We are attracted to it, and we choose to put it on - to view the world through that haze... and when we do, it seems so much more necessary, so much more vital and important... we forget we don't need it."

"And God has told us all that this ring - this security that the world makes us believe that we need - is really what would hold us back from the best and biggest adventures he has in store for us."

Interesting, to think of Tolkien's ring of power - so evil and destructive - as being something in our lives as neatly verbalized and highly esteemed as "worldly security." But the ring was beautiful and precious, wasn't it? And in our culture, we spend so much money, make so many plans, and put so much stock in our security... And yet, in walking with Jesus, everything gets flipped upside-down, and we find that worldly security is a destructive lie, and our only hope for security is in clinging to and chasing after the Lord. We hobbits are learning to release our desire for a safe and secure life, and charge head-first into the wild, dangerous, wonderful will of God, learning that he is the only Rock we need.

"For who is God besides the Lord? And who is the Rock except our God?

32 

It is God who arms me with strength and keeps my way secure." - Psalm 18-31-32

**There is, of course, a fourth hobbit, not to be forgotten, for she is powerful, a little odd, and much loved. On this particular night, Emilee "Castle" Brandybuck was working late, serving drinks and locking up shop. But there will be more stories with her!

The Adventures of Connie in... Farmland

Last weekend, Hannah drove to Bluffton to have dinner with Mary's family. As we drove past corn fields and farms and grain bins, Hannah said, "Mary said sometime she wants to take me out on a combine!" "Oh, cool!" I responded. Then there was an awkward silence. Which of us would admit the truth first? Fine, I'm older, I'll swallow my pride and say it: "You know, I don't think I've ever actually seen a combine in action..." "Yeah, me either," she said. More awkward silence. Then I said, "Um, I'm not sure I really know what a combine does..." "Yeah, me either," she said. Even though neither of us knew what on earth a combine was, we both had a feeling it was one of those basic common-knowledge things in Bluffton. And we're going to Bluffton, to a pig farm, for dinner with real farmers. Oh dear.

Thankfully, Mary's family is very gracious, and after getting over the initial shock of having such ignorant city girls in their house, her dad explained combines - what they do and how they do it. Fascinating stuff, actually. He would have taken us out to see one in action, but it was almost dark, the combines were finished working for the day, and there were pork chops and sweet potatoes to be eaten. And her mom asked if it homemade cherry pie was ok for dessert. Ummm... yes, forever! Dinner was amazing - I've never had pork chops so tender that I could cut them with a fork. And it felt so good to have dinner around a table with a family, even if it was a family we were just borrowing for an evening. Made me feel homesick, but also comforted at the same time.

After dinner we looked at photo albums, listened to Mary's brother play music, and told stories and jokes. By the time we finally decided to leave, we felt so loved and accepted... Mary's dad told us to come back anytime, that we were always welcome, and I really believed him.

We left and drove under the starry sky, passing semi-trucks that we now realized were full of corn harvested from the fields. Of course we should have known that a visit to Bluffton cannot be complete without a crazy adventure, which is probably why the water pump in my van broke ten minutes down the road. Mary and her brother and dad came to rescue us, which involved trying to fix it on the side of the road in the cold and darkness, then decided it would be best to leave my van there until the morning. They got me out of my chair and into the passenger seat of their Suburban, then (through dangerous and astounding feats) got my chair in the back of it. Hannah and Mary and I drove back to Fort Wayne in this fashion and went straight to bed. The next day, before noon, Mary's dad had my van fixed and brought it back up to us, waving off any suggestion that I would pay for the new pump he installed.

So now that my van is in good working order and we know what a combine is, maybe we'll find ourselves in Bluffton again soon...

The Yearling

"A mark was on him from the day's delight, so that all his life, when April was a thin green and the flavor of rain was on his tongue, an old wound would throb and a nostalgia would fill him for something he could not quite remember..."

Inspired by Andrew Peterson's album, Light for a Lost Boy, I recently decided to read the children's classic, The Yearling, by Marjorie Kinnan Rawlings. The quote above is from the end of chapter 1, and set a foreboding mood for the rest of the book. Even as I read about all the beautiful, charming things the little boy, Jody, experienced, I had this feeling that something horrible was about to happen to destroy it all. It took me two months to read it because of this looming dread... I wanted the beauty to last as long as possible.

Over the span of one year, Jody experiences some things that change his life and make him lose his innocent childlike perception of the world... kind of an anti-Peter Pan story, much to my dismay. There is an overall feeling of not-rightness, as things die and fall apart around him, and his soul fights against it:

"Jody felt uneasy and miserable, alone at the edge of the marsh. The world seemed empty. Only over the scrub the buzzards wheeled, profiting... He climbed to the top of the load of hay and lay flat on his back, staring at the sky. He decided that the world was a very peculiar place to live in. Things happened that had no reason and made no sense and did harm, like the bears and panthers, but without their excuse of hunger. He did not approve."

Reminds me of this valley of white pines in Glacier National Park. A fungus is killing them... apparently about 30% of the trees in the valley are dead and 70% of the remaining trees are infected and are dying. And whether it matters to anyone else in the world or not, I do not approve. Death and decay should not be allowed in a place so beautiful and wild as that. In Jody's story, best friends shouldn't die suddenly, floods should not destroy everything, creatures shouldn't go rogue and kill each other for no reason, jealousy should not destroy friendships, relationships should not tear families apart, and he shouldn't have to kill the thing he loves more than anything in the world. And I'm sure you can think of the things in your story that shouldn't be... the painful, seemingly meaningless things that singe your heart and try to make you "grow up" - lose your hope and your faith in beauty, truth, and love.

I think the cruelest lie ever told was the one the serpent said to Eve: "You will not surely die..." If she had only known what death really meant - physical, emotional, relational death - surely she would have spat in his face and run back to Adam and God and the good fruit. But like everything else that fell in that garden, God will redeem this too. One of these days, he'll redeem it all - he'll bring life back to those white pines, he'll restore Jody's beloved yearling to him, he'll heal wounds and dry eyes and make things right. In the midst of the valley of dead trees and broken dreams, remember that, and let it be an anchor of hope.

Free, Lifelong Access

When we were in the Badlands, I was given a free lifetime access pass to all the national parks in the country. When the realization hit me, I literally started hyperventilating and sobbing. Hannah and Brie laughed for about 30 seconds and then started trying to calm me down, "Breathe, girl, just breathe!" It was kind of a weird, out-of-character natural reaction for me to have, and as I reflected on it today, I tried to figure out what made it such a big deal, to elicit such emotion.

It all happened so fast - the lady in the booth at the entrance of the park asked me if my disability was permanent, and I said yes. She handed Hannah a paper and told her I needed to sign it, or have Hannah sign it for me. With a nod of permission from me, Hannah scribbled both of our names down and handed it back. In exchange, the lady gave her a little plastic card, face down, and told her to sign it as well. Why do we sign things without knowing what they are? After a second double-signature, the woman declared what it was, and told us to "have a nice trip." Hannah flipped the card over to show me the front: 

We quickly flipped it over again and read the fine print under which she had just signed both of our names in permanent blue ink: "Lifetime Pass for U.S. Citizen or permanent resident, medically determined to have a permanent disability that severely limits one or more major life activities." And it was free. My brain wanted to try to calculate how much a regular pass would have been for one year, much less a lifetime, but I could do nothing but stare at the card shaking in my hands. 

Two things about this... 

1) I got this pass because of my disability. Every day I live with my disability, and deal with the reality of its limitations. Outwardly, I try to emphasize all that I can do. But here's a secret: not an hour goes by when I don't have to mentally consider what I cannot do. I can't reach the cabinets for a snack, I can't lay down on my bed for a spontaneous nap, I can't open the door when I have visitors, and I can't make them a cup of tea; I can't pick up the pen I just dropped on the floor, or turn on the light when it gets too dark, or clean up the messes my clumsy hands cause. I can't get into just anyone's house, or take just any sidewalk, or check out just any privately run shop or business, or ride in just anyone's car that I want. My creative mind works hard constantly to compensate for these things, but frankly it gets exhausting. The Disability Act has done a lot of good to provide access to a lot of places, but the truth is there are still many places in Fort Wayne, the US, and the world that are off limits. And even the term "disabled" declares inability and limit. So when 59 of the most beautiful and wild places in our country suddenly become accessible and open to me, without cost or limit... yes, now you can go!... you might as well hand me the world on a silver platter. 

2) It was a gift that I didn't deserve, and I didn't even ask for or seek because I didn't know it was possible. First, I had to speak a fact that is hard for me to admit even to myself: that my disability is permanent (at least in this world).  But when I said it, I didn't find doors slammed in my face - I found them flung open wide to new adventures and deeper life. And it felt a lot like the grace of God. It is so hard to bring myself to admit that I am weak and sinful, prideful and selfish and desperate, such a mess. I feel like, if I become too vulnerable or I surrender too much, I'll lose everything. But the more I realize and confess my need for him in every area of my life, the sweeter and more powerful his grace becomes. He fills the emptiness of my soul with his own love and peace, and He upholds me in all my weakness with the strength of his joy and hope. The access pass He gives me is not just a free ticket into heaven - it is so much more... it is an open door to enter a lifelong-and-then-eternity-long adventure of walking, running, and soaring with him, stepping in His shadow, hearing His heartbeat, seeing the world the way He sees it... And all the endless beautiful and wild places of his heart suddenly become accessible and open to me, without cost or limit - yes, now you can go! 

Sandcastles

This is a poem/story I wrote while in the silence of the Badlands. 
The amazing photography is compliments of Brie Elliot. 

Once upon a time I built a castle

On the shore of a great blue sea.

I built it with shovel and pail and a little salt water

And I adorned it with the choicest seaweed and shells.

I was so pleased, that I showed it to You. 

"Isn't it grand?" I asked. "Almost as tall as me!"

And aren't the shells lovely? And do you like 

My swirly-curly carvings and the candy striped towers? 

You smiled and nodded with patience and grace,

"It is quite lovely. But I want to show you something. 

Follow me westward, further up and deeper in

To see what I have in my innermost heart."

And so we traveled west together. 

And You taught me your songs and told me your tales, 

And pointed out details I never would have seen

And just when I thought I knew everything about You...

You brought me here and showed me your castles

Like mine, they were made of sand, but far more grand. 

They were grounded deep and firm on solid rock

And they rose so high above me I could barely see the tops. 

And so many! To the far horizon and beyond

They collided and tumbled over each other

Mounds, buttes, towers, buttresses, and spires

All vying for space and glory. 

"I have made all of this," You said to me, 

"And I want to share it with you. 

Will you leave your sandcastle behind

And come live here among mine?"

For a curiously prideful reason, I resisted. 

Yours were far more magnificent and wild than mine

But I'd rather have what I designed, created, and controlled. 

My sandcastle was small, but it was my very own. 

I wasn't willing to give it up - at least, not yet

So I asked to return to the seashore

And You patiently traveled with me to the east, 

And stood back, letting me approach my castle alone. 

The tide had begun to pull the ramparts into mud

And the lacy seaweed had begun to wilt

The candy-striped spirals were dry and crumbling

And I regretted clinging so tightly to this lump of sand. 

I grabbed my tools and tried to replicate Your handiwork.

I dug deeper foundations and tried to pile higher towers,

I thickened the walls and tried to fortify them,

But everything I tried, failed and fell short. 

That's when You invited me again to Your innermost heart

To admire and climb and dwell in Your sandcastles

This time I said yes and we returned together

And You gave me a precious gift.

"All of my castles I share with You," You said. 

"But here is one I made especially for you.

It has the choicest seashells and seaweed

And swirly-curly carvings and candy-striped towers."

It was true - before me was a castle I had dreamed of,

Complete with every precious detail, but better. 

It was taller and mightier and more firmly grounded

The walls were solid, and the colors majestic.

You took the things most loved and cherished in my hopes

And mixed them with Your strength, beauty and glory

You designed a plan that is the delight of both of our hearts,

And gave me a dream that is now hidden in Yours.

~ "Sandcastles"

CLChandler

7/14/13

You'll Find Your Way

The night we spent in Glacier National Park is quickly becoming a legend and a favorite fireside/bedtime story around here... but I don't want to forget what was going on in my heart that night. So while it isn't as thrilling and amusing as "The Story," I'm gonna write it down, if for no other reason than I need to remember it... 

We were driving on the Going-to-the-Sun Road through the park after sunset. At first I thought it was getting cloudier and foggier, but then I realized we were climbing mountains and entering into the high clouds. Shadows grew, and the headlights of the van would only show us where we were going and not really what was around us or what we were coming through. We knew the road did not have guard rails, and we had the mountain on our left and the edge dropping off to a great depth below us to our right... I looked out my passenger side window and gasped as I couldn't see the valley floor below us. While we slept in the car on the side of the road, we didn't know where we were or what the view was ten feet in front of us. There was something very powerful and deep about that darkness and stillness, the height and vastness of the unknown that we slept in. 

The next morning, we went back down that road, so we could see all the things we couldn't see in the night. We came back to the construction site, now patched up and open, and saw that where we had parked was facing an incredible view: 

Maybe we would have been freaked out and terrified if we had known where we were, how one careless and foolish move (and we had already taken too many) could have taken us over the edge to our death, and no one would ever have known. Or maybe we wouldn't have rested and slept as we needed to because we were too excited, too much in awe, knowing it was too beautiful, too big, too much... That day, looking out over that view, my heart was breaking, and I couldn't tell you why. 

I think God sometimes keeps us in the shadows, veils what surrounds us, and gives us a headlight just bright enough to show us the small space ahead of us where he wants us to go. He knows our hearts, he knows what we can bear, and he shields us from the greatness of what he is doing, so that we will steadily obey and trust him without becoming too overwhelmed. But his plan and his work is still there - much bigger and more dangerous (but good) than we could ever know. And when we are faithful to walk and rest in him, sometimes he gives us a glimpse, to remind us that it isn't just about us... it's about Him.... just to renew our hope and awe and wonder... possibly even to break our hearts again. 

I mentioned before that we listened to Andrew Peterson's album, "Light for a Lost Boy," as we drove through the night. This album came out last year, and honestly I haven't listened to it much... it's not the kind of CD you can bounce to in the car as you bash around town, or you play in the morning to get you pumped for the day. I tried both settings, and it just felt too serious, and I couldn't quiet my heart enough to listen to the words and appreciate it for what it holds. AP has a deep soul... every album he writes is from his heart, so I think I had to wait for a time when I was ready to listen to his heart and find out what God was doing there. I got to that point as we climbed 8,000 feet into the clouds and shadows and blind curves of one of the most beautiful and wild places I've ever been on earth. The entire album tells a story, a tale of lost and found, of tragedy and truth, of an aching longing for eternity, of death being swallowed up in life... I've attached the music video of one of my favorite songs for you to enjoy.

I think God used that time and that music to prepare my heart for deeper things I would face this week, as the adventure continues...

Curves in the road

The thing about driving through the mountains is, there are a lot of curvy roads. (In fact, that's how we learned on the trip that Brie gets carsick.)

I loved the wide open prairie lands, where the road stretched straight out forever in front of us, with no trees or hills to obstruct the view... I strained my eyes to see as far as I could, just because I could, and I took deep, deep breaths of air out there, like I could inhale the entire big blue sky that stretched from horizon to horizon. I felt free and easy and confident, knowing where I was going and what would be there when I arrived.

But then the hills grew taller and taller and the trees crowded thicker and thicker, and all I could see of the sky was right above me, and all I could see of the road and land was what came before a curve that was so close I could see it without my glasses on. And I love this scene in a different way... it has an element of adventure, not knowing what will happen next. It was thrilling to hug the edge of the mountain and wind higher and higher. It even felt a little dangerous, especially when we saw yellow diamond shaped signs warning about bison and deer and big-horned sheep and cowboys. It's those "joy in the journey" moments when you want to slow down for fear of what you might find but also want to speed up to discover what is around the corner.

Life is like that too... we come to curves in the road, and have no idea what the next day or next step might hold. And those curves have a tension of anxiety and anticipation, don't they? Who knows if changes are going to turn out to be good or bad, or how they will affect your relationships and decisions and the rest of your life? What a beautiful opportunity to work out our faith... to test how much we really trust God. He is good, faithful, and unchanging - He is the mountain we can depend on as we travel these winding roads.

The last two days

Waking up in the Badlands again did something to my emotional stability. While Hannah and Anna checked us out of the motel and worked on a plan for the day, I sat in the desert field and stared at the sand castles, and cried. Couldn't really pinpoint at the time what was going on, but now as I think back I just realize I was so homesick. 

I thought about Brie and Emilee and Todd and Brandon and the others back home... and how I wanted so much to share all of this with them. And so much had happened in my heart during the week of camp that I really hadn't been able to process through yet, and I wanted desperately to return to my ministry team and talk for hours with them about it all. And being there in the Badlands, I was keenly aware that I was still 1,000 miles from home. I felt like Dorothy at the end of The Wizard of Oz... I didn't want the adventure to end, but I felt like the rest of the adventure was back in Fort Wayne. 

I don't remember much that happened that day or the next, and I don't think I was much fun... but Hannah and Anna bravely kept morale up and we got to see some more cool things before the end of the road. 

The girls climbed a sand castle... 

 We went to see Sioux Falls in SD...

The prettiest thing we saw in Minnesota were the clouds... 

And we spent the night in Madison, Wisconsin. The fact that we have no pictures of the last day of our trip is a testimony to the urgency we had in getting home. We drove through Illinois and into Indiana. Our plan was to get a Chicago-style pizza and eat it on the beach at the Indiana Dunes by Lake Michigan. But the pizza place we found did not make Chicago-style, and by the time it was ready, we were in the middle of a huge rainstorm... so we ate regular style Hawaiian pizza in a swanky pub and then drove two more hours in the rain. We got home and put on a pot of tea and just wandered through the empty rooms, wondering if anyone would come over to see us.

We were not disappointed! A knock on the door, and our dear Richard came in and welcomed us back. He started filling us in on the adventures he had had since we left, and his smiling face was the best sight I'd seen all day. Then we heard the familiar lumber of Brandon charging up the ramp and he burst into our kitchen, dripping wet and shrieking his joy at seeing us. Giant hugs and exclamations assured me that he missed us as much as I missed him. Then came Todd, just to give a hug and hear a quick story and offer us some ice cream before he had to run to work.Then Bethany and Rachel popped in, and we told the Glacier Park story for the third time in an hour - Richard was still there grinning and could probably have told the story better than us by then. Brie came home shortly after and my joy-and-love tank nearly burst. We were back in our Hobbit Hole, surrounded by friends and family.

Now that I've caught you up on the day-by-day adventure, I'll spend the next few days working through my reflections and all the things God's taught me.So stay tuned! The adventure isn't over... it's just beginning...

Yellowstone National Park

Obviously, if you're going to leave Glacier and continue the adventure, you turn south and head for the open prairie-desert road to Wyoming. We spent all day in the sprawling state of Montana to get there. We spent the night right on the border, just a couple miles from the access to Yellowstone, and Day 19 dawned on another chapter of our adventure.

We saw signs in the park for buffalo crossings. One of these signs was flashing, and we wondered what that meant... until we saw, 200 yards in front of us, a buffalo lumbering down the road at a very chill pace. We were freaking out and Hannah swung the side door open and started snapping pictures, safari-style. The buffalo just looked right at us and kept moving. We figure he drew the short straw that day and the herd sent him out to entertain the tourists. 

Only a couple minutes later, Anna started shrieking and pointing dramatically, and then pulled our car off the road to see a herd of ... something... they might have been deer, but we like to think they were female moose.

We came to Fountain Paint Pot, and decided that yes, while we had 12 hours of driving before us, we had to stop and enjoy the geysers a bit.

And we spent most of the day following the continental divide... 

And of course, if we are in Yellowstone, the one thing that we must see is Old Faithful...

We got there in time to see her spray at 9:45!

We just drove the rest of the way through the park, but it was really a beautiful view...

 After the park we kept heading south, and got to Thermopolis, where apparently there is a hot springs park with the world's largest mineral hot spring.

So we stopped for a quick spa treatment. Sat in the hot spring for about 15 minutes, and were soooo amazingly relaxed, we were really no good for anything the rest of the day. Our bathing suits still stink of sulfur though.

We drove on through Wyoming and landed back in the Badlands late that night. The scenery was still beautiful, and I was still glad to be sharing this adventure with two of my very best friends. But something in me switched on as we left the hot springs, and I suddenly felt very homesick. I didn't care if I saw another blade of grass, winding road, or desert hill... I just wanted to get back to my Hobbit Hole, and my Homestead family. But we still had two days to go...