Up On The Roof

Every once in a while, it’s good to climb up onto the roof, get a glimpse down the road of what might be coming our way, and imagine the potential scenarios that could play out.

The trouble with most of our imaginations is that we tend to conjure up the worst possibilities, and then live as if they have already come true. What we see from the roof sends us scurrying for the basement to hunker down, and ride out a storm that may, or may not, blow in. When we are always preparing for the what ifs, it’s hard to be present for what is. 

The problem with this approach, which all of us are prone to take at one time or another, is that we never get around to living in the house. To fully furnishing and inhabiting the home that is the wholehearted and authentic life we are called to live. 

The roof invites us to consider a different point of view.

What if we turned our worst-case-scenario-what-if-thinking on its head, and used our imaginations to envision the best case scenarios? Began to visit the roof to conjure up our highest hopes and deepest desires, in order to get on with living our way into that vision. It is inside our home that life takes place. It is here that we live with the intention of answering our calling. It is here that we connect who we are with how we live. It is here that we find rest and renewal. It is here that we are nourished. It is here that we remember who we are, why we are, and where we are going. 

Now, as my mitigating husband is good to remind me, using the roof as an effective vantage point from which to see potential dangers, challenges, and risks, is a good practice too. Look down the road, see what’s coming, or might come, and make our preparations. Once we’ve done what we can to get ready for whatever it is, it’s time to leave the roof.  

A roof is meant to be over our heads, not under our feet. 

(Click here to listen to the one and only James Taylor singing Up On The Roof.) 

Shotgun!

A wise man I know was fond of saying, When God wants to teach you something, He takes you on a trip. 

I’ve always loved that thought, and have found it to be true, with the caveat that more than teach us, God wants to travel with us. 

When I left my first marriage, my greatest fear was that I would have to leave God behind, or rather that I would be left behind, because divorce was one of those things that shouldn’t happen if I just had enough faith. What surprised the hell out of me was that God not only came with me, She helped me pack my things, load them into the car, jumped into the passenger seat, and yelled Shotgun!!!. 

It seems to me that God loves a good road trip, and rather than wanting to steer the car, wants to go along for the ride. The one in the passenger seat is able to point out the sights we might miss, alert us to dangers, and point out alternative routes. With our faithful Shotgun at our side, no matter where our travels take us, we’re not alone.

If we get lost, we’re not alone.

If we take a wrong turn, we’re not alone.

If we run out of gas, we’re not alone.

If we drive off the road, we’re not alone. 

If we crash and burn, we’re not alone. 

Today I Ieave for a weeklong trip to Albuquerque, and along with my beloved husband, I have no doubt that when it comes time to head for the airport, God will help us load our things in the car, and yell Shotgun!!! 

We are all on the trip of a lifetime, and no matter where we go, we’re not alone.

Shotgun!  

(God didn’t have a current headshot, so Gracie agreed to stand in.) 

How Is Your Heart?

How is your heart?

This has become one of my favorite questions.

In my marriage, our family, and with close friends, it is a way to check in with one another, and there are days that seem to beg the question. Those days when we sense that something is going on in the heart of another, good, bad, or ugly, and the conversation that flows from this gentle invitation leads to deeper understanding.

Recently the answer offered in response to this question shed light on what it means to be fully human.

My heart is full.

We are meant to have full hearts.

A full heart has room, simultaneously, for both joy and sadness.

A full heart has the capacity to hold not only those emotions we welcome, but also those we resist.

A full heart can overflow with both gratitude and grief.

A full heart has space for both love and loss.

How is your heart?

It is a question that opens a door we can’t always open ourselves.

Three Questions

As a new week begins, I want to share three questions I heard this morning in church.

The message was given by Mateo, a high school student, on the topic of climate change. An issue so complex, so overwhelming, and so fraught with powerful emotions from those on all sides, that it can be tempting to find ourselves stuck in an endless cycle of hand wringing. Which, as far as I know, has yet to solve a problem. This young man, however, suggested that there might be a more effective approach to this global issue, that as stewards of the planet, impacts us all. In a quiet voice, confident in his message, he encouraged us to cut climate change down to size by thinking locally. As he shared his own story of coming to grips with the challenges facing our shared planet, he suggested that it might help each of us to ask ourselves the same three simple questions that he asked himself when attempting to wrap his young arms around this global bone of contention.

1. How is climate change affecting me?

2. How is it affecting others?

3. What are we going to do about it?

Simple questions with no easy answers, but in contemplating a worldwide situation in his own neck of the woods, he found it easier to see opportunities to make a difference. And suggested that we might too.

Imagine if each one of us decided to be curious. To honestly assess the impact our changing climate is having right in our own back yard, to consider how it is impacting those in our community, to search for ways to address our common concerns, and then get to work.

Mateo’s words rang true not only in relation to our rising temperatures, but as a template to approach any problem that feels too complex to tackle. From global issues to those within the walls of our own workplaces, schools, and homes, a good place to start is with the same three questions.

1. How is this fill-in-the-blank issue affecting me?

2. How is it affecting others?

3. What are we going to do about it?

Rancho La Puerta - Photo by Tom Pierson

Pitons

According to Wikipedia, a piton is a metal spike that is driven into a crack or seam in the climbing surface with a climbing hammer, and which acts as an anchor to either protect the climber against the consequences of a fall or to assist progress and aid climbing.

I’ve hiked some steep trails and summited a mountain, but never in conditions that required the use of pitons. I hope I never will, however, if I ever am in a situation where a piton will keep me from free falling down a steep rock face or over a precipice, I will be deeply grateful for those metal spikes driven deep into the crack.

A piton must hold fast, allowing the climber to fall only so far.

A piton becomes a marker for progress made.

A piton is the place from which further progress begins.

A mountain face is not the only place where we suddenly find ourselves in need of an anchor to keep us from falling. Every one of us can fall into old habits, and tumble into long-held stories that are no longer true, or perhaps never were. None of us can make it on our own, and we all need those who will serve as our pitons. Those trusted few with whom we scale the mountains and precipitous cliffs to become our most wholehearted and authentic selves.

Onward.

Upward.

Together.

shutterstock_1040214613 2.jpeg

The Baggage Tag

Every time I pack my suitcase to head out of town, I discover that the baggage tag from my last airplane flight is still attached. From now on, that irrelevant tag is staying behind at the airport, tossed into a trash can, leaving me ready for the next, perhaps as yet unknown, leg of my trip.

It’s not about where we’ve been.

It’s about where we’re going.

AMOUR

My best friend gave me a pair of earrings a few years back, a simple design, embossed with what has to be the single most important word in any language.

I wore them almost every day.

Until I lost one of them.

I looked everywhere, scouring our home, the floor of my car, the post office, the driveway, the General Store, the school, our church, but it was nowhere to be found. It’s been more than three months, and yet still I held out hope, because as we all know, in the end, love will win out.

Today is the first day of spring, and the snow that has surrounded our home for the past couple of months has been melting away with the warming temperatures. Standing out on our deck, my eye caught a glint of gold. There is was.

Love is always waiting for us, even when we can’t see it.

Where The Magic Happens

This morning I received phone calls from several people, each eager with anticipation, and maybe a little trepidation, about where life is calling them. New opportunities are appearing, decisions to be made are looming, and the clock is ticking. Which, to my coach’s mind, means that they are exactly where they are supposed to be. The temptation is almost always to play it safe, fearful as most of us are of failure and being found out. We lose sight of what we have to offer, and focus instead on what we perceive we lack. 

Playing it safe will never bring us closer to the authentic and wholehearted lives we are meant to live. To find our way there we must step over our carefully crafted comfort zones, venture out beyond the boundaries we’ve come to count on, and with the mind of an explorer, step out into the unknown.

At the intersection of our experience, expertise, and knowledge up until now, and the unknown territory of that which we have yet to discover, we find ourselves at our growing edge.

And that my friends, is where the magic happens. 

Bearing Witness

Today I had the privilege of witnessing courage under fire.

Courage means speaking the truth in the face of attack.

Courage means standing our ground when the earth is crumbling beneath our feet.

Courage means standing in the presence of fear without flinching.

Courage means facing our own demons.

Courage means holding ourselves to account.

Courage means risking losing it all in service to saving our soul.

Acts of courage abound, and when one of us is brave, the rest of us might dare to be so too.

Onward.

Upward.

Together.

Permission

There are days when nothing sounds good, and trying to decide what to do feels like an exercise in futility.

Maybe you can relate.

You start one thing, find yourself doing another, and never actually finish anything. Kind of like a dog that turns around and around and around, trying but never finding the right spot to lie down. By the time my head hits the pillow tonight, I’ll be lucky if I’ve actually completed one meaningful task.

I got up with the intention of spending some good creative hours at my desk to prepare for an upcoming speaking gig, and reaching out to some potential agents to help me spread my message to the receptive audience I know is out there. Today isn’t the day to do anything like that. Not if I want to actually accomplish anything worthwhile.

So.

Rather than take it all too seriously, I’m giving myself permission to wander aimlessly, let the dust of a couple of intense weeks settle, finish some laundry, unload the dishwasher, make a good dinner, crawl into bed, and call it good.

The sun will come up again tomorrow.