Category: Discoveries

Places…

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It’s hard to believe that it’s been seventeen years this month since I came to the beautiful mountain town where I live. A teaching job brought me to this gorgeous land of enchanting mountains, wandering trails, captivating wildflowers, melodious streams, and above all, a unique people. After living here for several years, I left once so that I could find a place where I could afford to buy a home, only to return two years later to the place that truly felt like home. 

    Unlike the students that I teach, I didn’t have the opportunity to grow up spending my winters skiing these stunning peaks, camping in the stark Utah deserts during the springs, or passing the summers wandering the mountains and rafting the rivers and biking the trails. I grew up in cities of both the midwest and Colorado’s Front Range. Once I reached Colorado’s Western Slope for college and became acquainted with its small-town mountain life, I knew I was home. For me, this is a FOUND PLACE–one I journeyed to and made a life in, like many others.

    As a former history major, I’ve often been fascinated by the theme that people shape places, and places shape people. I see it in the beautiful sun-etched lines, tanned wrinkles, toned bodies, and large smiles of the people here. I see it in my former students who wander far, have a passion for travel and adventure and the outdoors, who live in other places for a time, but who often find their way back home. The FOUNDATIONAL PLACES that gave them roots also provided them with wings.

    For me, when I see the big rivers and lakes of the midwest, the colors of the hardwoods in the fall, or walk or drive through a cornfield like those of Iowa where my grandparents once farmed, sweet memories wash over me and take me back to the innocence of childhood. Fog reminds me of driving through the bluffs on the way to my other grandmother’s home in southwestern Wisconsin, which sat on a hill where there was a small orchard. My siblings and I would walk through a screened in back porch where my grandfather was usually smoking his pipe to find my grandmother at work in the kitchen. 

    Places that have stretched, shaped and enlightened us can also be NOSTALGIC PLACES. I lived in Puerto Rico for a short time on a couple different occasions, and then taught English and served as a missionary in the Dominican Republic for a little over a year. Years later, I spent a summer in Costa Rica. These experiences gave me a great love for Latin America and its people, the Spanish language, and the ocean. They were also some of the most refining years of my life, for I was being reshaped by different places and people, but stretched in ways that redefined me. 

    And then there are places of IMAGINING AND WONDERING, places that call a deep longing within us that we often can’t quite name or identify. I’ve also been fortunate enough to have the opportunity to travel to Spain on a few occasions and cannot begin to express how much I love this country. I’ve only ever been for several days at a time with a group of students, but each time, it has felt as if I’m made to be there. Its deep layers of history, the beauty of its people and architecture and geography, the amazing food and the gorgeous language–they’re all so captivating. Returning there this summer with students nourished my soul in ways I can hardly express.

    We all have those places that captivate and inspire us. Perhaps it’s home–perhaps it’s somewhere new, but may we let ourselves be continually shaped by the beauty around us, and may we all find ways to contribute to that beauty. As the great author Wendell Berry says, “I am always surprised, whenever I look back on times I have known to be worrisome or troublesome or hard, to discover that I have never been out of the presence of peace and beauty, for here I have been always in the world itself.”

    “A Parachute of Love”

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    An old song by the King Cole Trio says, “The greatest thing you’ll ever learn is just to love and to be loved in return.” How true this is. It is indeed the greatest journey and learning experience of life. We were created out of love, and out of love we are sustained and made new. And yet, because of the broken world we live in and the difficult experiences we share, many of us struggle to accept or give love as we should.

    I’ve often been told that the place to begin is to learn to love ourselves–to accept the infinite love God has for us. This LOVE was great enough for Him to send His only son to the cross to die for us, LOVE great enough to forgive us every mistake and flaw, LOVE that knew us and wanted a relationship with us before time began. I John 3:1 says, “See what great love the Father has lavished on us, that we should be called children of God!”

    My therapist recently suggested that a good exercise for me would be to look in the mirror at least once a day and say, “I love you.” to myself. I laughed when she said this because it sounded like such a silly idea to me, but said I would try it. Actually doing it was MUCH harder than I expected–I found myself sobbing in the mirror because I couldn’t say the words. At that point, I realized how much I needed this practice as a means of forgiving myself and all those who have not accepted or loved me as I needed. It’s a means of placing radical trust in God and the worth that He says I have in Him.

    A former mentor once asked me how many people were allowed on who I am. With that question, I realized that I was allowing everyone a vote, that my worth could be easily shattered by the opinion of someone I barely knew. Twenty years later, I’m not sure how much I’ve grown. I probably don’t let strangers vote anymore, but I seem to allow almost everyone who knows me, be they friend or foe, some sort of say. Looking back, I can see the way God built me up with friends and mentors and encouragement in my early twenties, then  allowed me to be torn down again and stripped of all that approval in various ways. One day, I will learn that His approval is all that I need–His vote is the only one that truly counts.

    Nathaniel Branden said, “Self-acceptance is my refusal to live in an adversarial relationship with myself.” Seeing it put that way, I’m aware of how often my thoughts are self-critical and how that really means that a state of civil war exists within me. In order to find peace, I must come to terms with all the bits that are hard to accept, with all the bits that others haven’t liked, with both my humanity and my divinity. I must, as William Stafford said, “…[weave] a parachute out of everything broken.” As the band Macaco sings in one of my favorite songs “Un Mundo Roto/A Broken World”, I mustn’t let this broken world destroy my smile.

    One of my favorite authors, Leeanna Tankersley wrote something that captures my intention:

    “A voice is whispering to me as I watch the river…let it happen. Let it happen to you. The losing, the finding, the falling apart, the coming back together. All of it. Sit very still. Keep breathing. And let it happen.”

    HOPE–A Thorny Bloom

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    My yard is blessed by an overabundance of thistles–probably my least-favorite plant. With all the rain and wind we received in the late spring in our region this year, a few thistles multiplied to literally hundreds seemingly overnight. Thorny and prickly and nearly impossible to pull out without the right tools, gloves, and technique, they still seem to defy me and grow back the next week to impede the paths around our home and poke my toddler as she explores the yard. 

    For all of these reasons and more, I was sure for the longest time that the thistle is a weed, and not just any old weed, but the meanest and most noxious weed of them all.  After noticing lovely blooms on the taller thistles around the area, however, I looked it up and was surprised to learn that it is a highly valued and beneficial flowering plant whose prickles simply help protect it from being eaten by herbivores. Not only that, but according to Wikipedia, “Biennial thistles are particularly noteworthy for their high wildlife value, producing such things as copious floral resources for pollinators, nourishing seeds for birds like the goldfinch, foliage for butterfly larvae, and down for the lining of birds’ nests.”

    It made me wonder if the thorny plants in my life have benefits too, despite the mild suffering that comes from being pricked by their thorns. I’m reminded of Romans 5:3-5: “And not only this, but we also exult in our tribulations, knowing that tribulation brings about perseverance; and perseverance, proven character; and proven character, hope; and hope does not disappoint, because the love of God has been poured out within our hearts through the Holy Spirit who was given to us.”

    This passage mystified me when I stumbled across it as a young adult digging deep into Scripture, for I was already naively hopeful and had suffered very little. I thought it strange that the Apostle Paul listed hope as the end result instead of the starting place.

    Now, as a more seasoned believer who has had the wind taken out of her sails a few times, I understand. The “hope” I experienced as a young woman was really more like youthful optimism that cracked several times under pressure until it eventually shattered, revealed for the ingenuine thing that it was. It is as the Apostle Peter said in I Peter 1:6-7, “In this you greatly rejoice, even though now for a little while, if necessary, you have been distressed by various trials, so that the proof of your faith, being more precious than gold which perishes though tested by fire, may be found to result in praise, glory, and honor at the revelation of Jesus Christ.”

    In times of suffering, there are times when it has been difficult for me to face it with character or to persevere in it and continue to put one foot in front of another. But Paul was right–the most difficult thing by far is to hope. Peter tells us to count it all joy that we are able to share in the suffering of Christ. Easier said than done, certainly. But what joy it is that the end result of it all is that blessed and elusive thing–genuine hope. Even the thorny thistle has the most lovely, vibrant, purple bloom. As Emily Dickinson said, “Hope is the thing with feathers that perches in the soul – and sings the tunes without the words – and never stops at all.”

    “To Soar on Shifting Sand”

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    I’m a big fan of the WILLOW TREE figurines by Susan Lordi. Though they’re produced en masse, the originals are simple wood sculptures of people or angels that capture much of the range of human emotion. My favorite is called “SOAR” and features a woman with her joyful face angled towards the heavens, her arms stretched out wide, birds resting upon them.

    I bought this figurine a few years ago in a season when I yearned to experience such freedom and needed the daily visual reminder that it was possible to soar. Over the last year, as my bird-loving toddler grows, “SOAR” has unfortunately taken quite a beating. I feel sad when I look at SOAR now, scratched and bruised, missing a hand and one bird, other birds replaced by glue. It feels like I’m in a similar condition. It’s easy to imagine I’m broken beyond repair, grounded for life, or unworthy of public viewing. And yet, I also note that despite how SOAR has been beaten and bruised, her arms are still raised, her face ever victorious and turned towards the sun.

    In her book RISING STRONG, author Brené Brown discusses the concept that our culture is one that can value failure IF it leads to victory, but that we also easily gloss over the feelings of defeat, frustration, angst, loneliness, and struggle that so often accompany failure. We often forget that this is a place many of us stay in for a season or seasons, but that it is possible to rise up strong from it. I’m trying to have faith that I can do so too.

    Early on in my adult life, I thought of myself as a person of strong faith. Although it was clear I didn’t have the mustard seed size required to move mountains (Matthew 17:20), it felt possible to eventually grow to that level. All it has taken, however, is a series of many trials over the years to knock the wind out of me. I know now that my faith is either non-existent or infinitesimally small. Like the SOAR and Moses, my arms have grown weak and weary and I have often needed others to hold them up. The friends who have done so are a big part of why I’m still holding on in the times when I can’t discern God’s hand or purpose.

    If faith “…is like shifting sand, changed by every wave…” as the band Caedmon’s Call sings, perhaps the waves that continue to crash in can continue to shape it and make it something new, something pure and refined, something that isn’t mine at all. As Hebrews 12 says, God is “…the author and perfector of my faith.” Will He ultimately make it full and complete? The apostle Peter also tells us, “But this happened so that your faith, of greater worth than gold, may be found perfect and complete” (I Peter 1:7).

    The final word on this subject for me, however, was written by the prophet Isaiah: 

    “Why do you say, O Jacob, and complain, O Israel, “My way is hidden from the Lord, my cause is disregarded by my God”? Do you not know? Have you not heard? The Lord is the everlasting God, the creator of the ends of the earth. He will not grow tired or weary, and his understanding no one can fathom. He gives strength to the weary and increases the power of the weak. Even youths grow tired and weary and young men stumble and fall, but those who hope in the Lord will renew their strength. They will soar on wings like eagles, they will run and not grow weary.” Isaiah 40: 27-31

     “Dancing”–

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    I’ve long viewed my relationship with God as a dance. Early in my life, He held out His hand to me in invitation. I often picture the scene in the old Disney cartoon ALADDIN where Aladdin rides up to Jazmine on his magic carpet, holds out his hand to her, and asks, “Do you trust me?” She looks at him, questioning if she can, then decides she will. She  jumps on for a ride that leads her to “A Whole New World.”

    I’ve returned to that moment over and over in my journey of faith. In the beginning, I naively jumped on without questioning, assuming it would be easy to trust and ride. At many other points, wondering if I could still handle the wild ride or disliking where the journey took me, I nearly jumped off and withdrew my hand. Despite often needing to trust God’s heart when I haven’t been able to see His hand or face, despite struggling to do so at several points, I know His invitation stands. Indeed, partnered with Him, I have seen sights I never could have expected otherwise.

    A wallflower to my core, it’s a wonder that He chose me. God sees the most unlovely, clumsy, and broken parts and continues to choose me. As I took Hook His hand, He brought me out of my shell and brought a smile to my face. He led and guided confidently when I didn’t know a single step or have any rhythm of my own. He taught me to ignore the crowd, close my eyes, and follow His lead. He allowed me to lean on Him and held me up when I grew weary. When I followed His lead, He made me look good. When I resisted and fought for my own way, I broke our rhythm and fell. Yet there He was to pick me up, time after time, and offer His hand again. And there’s nothing so beautiful or freeing as dancing with a good partner. 

    A new song by Elevation Worship, called “Dancing,” captures this experience and the promise I returned to Him: 

    “Dancing on the mountain of a victory; dancing on the valley of a broken dream;

    Dancing on the plain of the in-between; If it’s you and me I won’t stop dancing.”

    “Land, Sit, Dwell”—

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    I have a dear friend who diligently seeks God’s provision of a word from the Word that will guide her direction for each new year. It’s inspiring to hear the word chosen for her and to watch her set her heart and mind towards that new vision, trusting that God is doing a new thing. I’ve followed my friend’s example on occasion but haven’t been as faithful to this practice as she is, this year included. There are, however, three words that God continually brings to my mind and heart in this year and season: LAND, SIT, and DWELL.

    LAND. As a new mother and a working mother, I find the pace of life to be much more frantic than ever before. As much as I chase it, balance feels elusive. For that reason, despite all the wonders and blessings of this season, I often find that my thoughts are fixed on the past or ten steps ahead in the future, worrying instead of being focused on the present moment. God often whispers to me, “LAND, beloved. Be where you are, fully, right now.” I sometimes have to continue talking myself into it with phrases such as, “Here you are, Nancy, in your favorite chair, holding your sweet baby girl. This is your favorite place to be. LAND here.”

    SIT. I’ve been doing a lot of sitting since my baby was born, something that my back finds difficult due to multiple past injuries. But I want to enjoy these sweet times of sitting with my girl…to be able to be still…to dwell in the presence of the Lord. And so, I must sit with the physical discomfort I experience and hold the many emotions that accompanied the rollercoaster ride of the last year. A friend told me recently that being a mother means realizing strengths you didn’t know you possessed and facing fears you weren’t aware existed. How true that is! I’ve had some absolutely paranoid fears regarding my daughter’s wellbeing, fears that often resurface. I often have to sit with the discomfort of them to truly process and let go of them. Another friend has reminded me that as I spend so much time looking down and caring for my baby this year, I must also remember to look up. I look up and thank God for my many blessings. I praise Him that all things are under His feet and that I have been seated with Him. 

    DWELL. Being present, being still, and letting go of fear are all things best done in God’s presence, as I DWELL and make my home with Him. God has made me His dwelling place and I have made Him mine. My heart often cries out an old worship song, “I just want to be where you are, dwelling daily in Your presence. Take me to the place where you are. I just want to be with you.” In every high and every low, He is my safe space where I can abide. In Psalm 84:10, David says that “Better is one day in your courts than a thousand elsewhere; I would rather be a doorkeeper in the house of my God than dwell in the tents of the wicked. For the LORD God is a sun and shield; the LORD bestows favor and honor; no good thing does he withhold from those whose walk is blameless.”


    One of my greatest goals for the year is to be here, now. And yet, I also set my sights on the journey to new places, for there are still many things I want to see and many ways I desire to grow. André Gide wrote, “In order to see new lands, one must consent to lose sight of the shore for a very long time.” That feels like an accurate description of the place where I am. I pray for the strength to keep swimming until I reach that distant shore.

    “Overwhelmed”—

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    If there is one word that describes the past year for me, it is overwhelmed. Like any year, it has held its highs and lows, yet the highs have been higher and the lows lower than most. 

    I am loving watching my baby girl grow in her first year of life—there are so many moments where I’m overpowered by love and wonder for the miracle of her. Yet currently, I feel overwhelmed by a multitude of circumstances beyond my control—the loss of a beloved grandfather, struggles with my health, severe illness and surgery for a dear friend, challenges at work and at home, relationship difficulties, and a seemingly futile effort to balance everything well all attempt to prevent me from enjoying this season as I would wish. 

    As much as I hate to admit and face learning this truth again, however, I still have a choice in my response to these circumstances. As we all know, the attitude we choose each day ultimately dictates the tone and quality of our experiences.

    In that vein, I must also acknowledge the many blessings present in my life, for I am also overwhelmed by the kindness and generosity of friends. Dear loved ones have given of their wisdom, resources, time, presence, love, and empathy in this past year in life-sustaining ways. I’ve learned to rely on them. Their examples, generosity, and goodness have changed me.

    I’m also overwhelmed by the goodness, grace, and presence of my loving and mighty God. I don’t often understand what He’s up to, but I do know He’s with me and that He fills me over and over again with His strength. As the band BIG DADDY WEAVE sings in their song OVERWHELMED, “I delight myself in You/Captivated by Your beauty/I’m overwhelmed….I’m overwhelmed by You.”

    My prayer for this day and for this season is that I would allow myself to be emptied of all the negative emotions that tend to consume me and that I would use that space to be filled with all that is good. May wonder for our great God and His many blessings wash over all of us today.

    The Table—

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    “It was the best of times, it was the worst of times,” wrote Charles Dickens in A TALE OF TWO CITIES. A long while back, when I attended a debriefing conference after a year of missions in the Dominican Republic, the instructor used this phrase to describe the mission experience. Its profoundness struck and resonated with me as never before. 

    Despite this, and despite the fact that I have chosen drifting between light and darkness as the theme of the novel I’ll finish one day, until recently, I somehow missed that it is one of MY life themes. I realized it when a beloved former student gifted me with a children’s book for my baby shower. Inside the cover, she wrote a note stating that the book reminded her of me because of the many conversations we had shared about all the beauty, challenges, joy, and sorrow life simultaneously offers us in our journeys.

    I’ve been thinking about all of this again recently as I enjoy the rapture of watching my baby girl grow. I should say that due to sleep deprivation, my battle with chronic pain, and the busyness of trying to find balance after returning to work, I work at being present enough to enjoy every moment.

    As I search for balance and joy amidst the challenges, I’m reminded of a phrase from the favored Twenty-third Psalm. David wrote of our Shepherd, “He prepares a table before me in the presence of my enemies.” IN the presence of my enemies, a table is prepared. I can picture that table. It’s a long banquet table set up on a sprawling porch, prepared with the choicest food and drink, decorated with flowers and fine linens, lit with candles. As the enemies of sleeplessness and pain and the frantic pace of American life look on, there I am, seated with my Shepherd at the close of day. My daughter and family and treasured friends surround us. We smile and laugh and enjoy one another as the sun sets. All the while, my enemies lurk and darkness descends.

    Some days, as I practice gratitude in stillness, it’s relatively simple and easy to some to the table. Others, as as is typical of my dinnertime reality, I struggle to cease striving and sit still. A friend once described this type of experience to me as picking at the crumbs on the floor when I’ve been invited to a feast. Still other days, it feels as though I must fight my way through bramble and thorned brush just to find where the table IS. But the invitation is always there. 

    My Lord says, “Come, all you who are thirsty, come to the waters; and you who have no money, come, buy and eat! … Listen, listen to me, and eat what is good, and you will delight in the richest of fare” (Isaiah 55:1a;2b). As counterintuitive as it may seem, the beautiful table prepared is often an altar. I reach it best by kneeling, laying down my best efforts, perfectionism, and striving to do it all on my own—laying down selfish ambition and my ideals of what the table should look like, who I’ll be seated with, what will be served, and how long the meal should last. Above all, I must accept that my task is to enjoy THIS meal without worrying about the next, without being able to control that my enemies haven’t left me in peace. I must claim the peace and respite offered anyway. 

    In her stunning book, AN ALTAR IN THIS WORLD: A GEOGRAPHY OF FAITH, author Barbara Brown Taylor invites, “Wherever you are, you live in the world, which is just waiting for you to notice the holiness in it. So welcome to your own priesthood, practiced at the altar of your own life. The good news is that you have everything you need to begin.”

    Mi Hija…

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    There’s a lovely phrase, in Spanish or in any language, “Mi hija…my daughter.” I’ve always loved how Spanish-speakers pronounce it as though it were one word instead of a phrase, like two notes to the same beautiful song. Now it is mine! I am a mama to THE most amazing and beautiful baby girl (not that I’m biased). Almost three months old now, I fell in love the moment I knew she had arrived in the womb. But this is nothing compared to the love I felt meeting her for the first time, or have felt every day since. It’s as though I have always known her, and yet, how wonderful it is to get to know her still more and more each day. 

    This all has me thinking a lot about the kind of woman and mom I want to be. Recent months have provided ample opportunity to refine my character and expose its weaknesses, yet it feels like real growth for me to be able to say there are some things I like about myself. As an older first time mom, I’m confident in who I am and what I want out of life. And even if I can’t always achieve or obtain those ultimate goals, I know how to sit with that too. I know to delight in the preciousness of this time despite its challenges, to treasure each and every single moment. Even in the difficult ones, the words of an old country song by Trace Adkins often come to mind, “You’re gonna miss this.”

    But I’ve also realized how difficult it can be for me to be present, how easily focused I can become on looming to-do lists, how inclined I am to look at the glass as half-empty, and how rapidly I become irritated. I’ve become more aware of how prone to anxiety and compulsiveness I am and of how much I STILL need to grow. Above all, I see how self-critical and perfectionistic I am. 

    I want my daughter to know me as hopeful and humble and kind, a woman at peace and at rest each day. I hope she’ll witness strength intertwined with gentleness, wisdom with wit, patience with perseverance. May she learn from a mama who works hard but who also knows how to quit…one who can play and laugh and dance, especially with her. May my daughter see someone who can forgive herself and who has a growth mindset. As she watches me with others, may she witness integrity, joy, and a generous spirit, someone who listens well and truly gives love and presence.  Of all this I fall far short, a reminder that a profound sense of failure is one of the emotions I did not expect to arrive so quickly in this journey of motherhood.

    It’s easy to get ahead of myself…to become so full of ambition for what I want to be that I lose sight of and gratitude for what IS. But that’s just what a dear friend encouraged me towards recently, to be “…a lover of what is.” She encouraged me to take God at His word that I have all that I need…to INHABIT my fullness and completeness. I think I’ll be sitting with all of that for quite some time to come.

    When I think of the women I admire most, real women who have blessed me with the opportunity to be a part of their stories, they’re not perfect either. They are humble and patient with themselves as they journey. How grateful I am to have wonderful examples in my friends, most of whom have shown me generosity and kindness beyond measure in this season. And above all, I have an amazing example and a constant companion in God, whose strength and grace I am dependent upon each and every step of the way. 


    Once again, although I know what I want, I’m not always sure of how to get it, which brings to mind the words of the great Wendell Berry, my favorite author: “What we must do is this: ‘Love always, pray  continually, in everything, give thanks.’ I’m not always capable of it, but I know those are the right instructions.”

    Call to Wonder…

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    As I drove home a couple of nights ago, a pink-orange sky bathed the rugged snow-capped mountains and low-hanging clouds in mystical light. The scene took my breath away. I thought of a card a dear friend once gave me for my birthday that pictured a little boy, mouth agape, gazing out the window at a newborn bird. The caption said, “Never lose your sense of wonder.” What a privilege to marvel again and again at God’s creation and this wonderful wild land where we live. As John Muir said, “Everybody needs beauty as well as bread, places to play in and pray in, where nature may heal and give strength to body and soul…. All that sun shines on is beautiful, so long as it is wild.”

    As my husband and I await our first baby and stand in awe at this miracle of life developing each week, I am awakened once again to this Christmas season of wonder. I marvel at our creative Creator and the artistry with which he put together the world and each miraculous, unique life to grace it. Though this past year has been one to remember for all of us–a friend told me she’s heard 2020 will be the new swear word–I’m astonished at all the ways, big and small, our great God has provided for us within the storms.

    In her many books and blogs, author Ann Voskamp invites us to offer a song of gratitude each day for every grace we are given. In Unwrapping the Greatest Gift she states, “You were formed to have front-row seats to waves hugging the shore, to trees touching the sky, to stars falling across the night–the whole of the universe falling in love with God…. You could unwrap the wow today just by going to the window. By going to the front door, to the park, to the backyard, or to the top of the highest hill you can find–standing there and staring and being wowed by the shape of the clouds or the color of the sky or the size of the sun when you hold up your hands.”

    Edith Wharton, first woman to win the Pulitzer Prize for literature, has a quote I adore about how this kind of spirit can even keep you young. She said, “There’s no such thing as old age; there is only sorrow. In spite of illness, in spite even of the archenemy sorrow, one can remain alive long past the usual date of disintegration if one is unafraid of change, insatiable in intellectual curiosity, interested in big things, and happy in small ways.”

    As we do the work of remaining alive and curious and grateful, may we be assured with the knowledge that regardless of what storms may come, we will never be alone on our journeys. As Lamentations 3 and the great hymn say, “Morning by morning new mercies I see. All I have needed Thy hand has provided, Great is Thy faithfulness, Lord unto me.”