a sabbatical journey: by the numbers

By the numbers:

    40 days

    7078 miles

    9 National Parks

    1 National Lakeshore

    1 National Monument

    3 other areas of hiking/exploring throughout Colorado and Utah

    150+ miles hiking/exploring

    5 connections with friends/couples along the way

    1 destroyed van ceiling, metal window blind in an airbnb, and Christmas light strand (then     amateurly repaired), all courtesy of Maggie

    1 lost privacy tent (blew away in a Utah windstorm) and 1 poop bag dispenser

    3 nights in a paid campground (one fully equipped, 2 with only pit toilets)

    3 nights in a hotel, 3 nights in an airbnb (primarily so I could hike in national parks where     dogs aren't allowed. 1 night because of rain)

    8 nights with friends

    23 nights boondocking (dispersed camping)

    6.5 Coleman propane bottles used for cooking

    2 turkey, 1 pheasant, 1 porcupine, loads of lizards, many multitudes of mule deer spotted

 Everyone has been asking what my favorite park or stop was. I don't know if I can say completely. Every park was so different. I love mountains, so Colorado and Rocky Mountain NP was gorgeous. But the slot canyons of Buscskin Gulch and in Grand Staircase Escalante area were fascinating and adventurous. And Zion and Bryce in Utah were also amazing. 

Did it meet my expectations? Yes and no. I didn't know what to expect in terms of the places I visited. The landscape and diversity was beyond my imagination. So many moments of "wow, this is incredible". Even the first miles of very flat, barren Utah land, only broken by the mesas rising straight out of the ground.  After many, many miles, though, it got a little mundane. And one part of Utah I swear was like being on the moon (yes, this picture is in color)

But the diversity... wow.

But I had hoped for more down time, time to read, journal, connect with God. That did not happen as much as I would have liked. I didn't expect so often being so tired at the end of the day (even though my desire was to keep it a slower pace so I wouldn't be exhausted). But I forgot that essentially I would be camping, and camping in general is just more work. Additional pieces to set up and tear down each evening and morning. And driving and hiking are both tiring. The days where I stayed in one location were nice. 

 Another realization very highlighted as I reached the top of a boulder in Rocky Mountain National Park to have a spectacular view of snow-covered peaks...While it was incredible, I found myself lamenting that I had no one to share the adventure and the moment with. To share the exhilaration of climbing this boulder that I wasn't completely sure how I'd get back down (a few others were up there, but it was either a steep rock-climb, or slippery snow/ice covered incline). And to wonder at the magnificence of God's creation at the top with. Though the invitation is to share it with God, somehow it's not the same as with a physical being. Those were moments of grief; a lack of shared experience with someone. 

Would I do it again in a converted minivan? Yes, I think so. Perhaps with a few minor adjustments to the van. It also helped that weather (besides being at times frigid or windy) was decent. Only ran into rain once, outside of the week driving back. 

Overall, how to describe it? Breathtaking. Monotonous. Restful. Stressful. Adventurous. Tiring. Indescribable. 

a sabbatical journey: the non-glamorous

 So maybe you've seen some of the pictures on Facebook of the magnificently diverse landscapes I've experienced over the past 2 weeks. It's truly spectacular... though I could do without the seemingly infinite stretches of nothingness in Nebraska and Kansas. No offense, you two - I just much prefer trees and mountains. To be quite honest, I sometimes struggle with seeing other people's fabulous vacations all the time, and I probably wouldn't have been posting so many, except that so many people asked to see pictures. So, they're there.

And so to even it out a bit, I thought I'd share a piece of the less-than-glamorous sides to this trip.  
(ok, I recognize the following pictures are pretty, but there was a lot of stress and frustration behind them all!)

A somewhat minor but consistent annoyance: the curtain rod in the front and in the back don't stay up.  I started taking the front one down in the morning, since it would inevitably fall anyway. And putting it back is a challenge, because it generally takes 3-4 attempts till it'll finally stay. But when you're exhausted and it falls, this is not pleasant.

One of the more major annoyances/stresses/frustrations has been finding a spot to camp for the night. My goal was to do mostly dispersed camping (in undesignated dry sites, often in National Forest, Bureau of Land Management land, or other public land), with the idea to stop at a campground every now and then for a shower or possibly get a room or airbnb in a couple select locations so that Maggie could stay there during the day while I hiked (oh, side note, if you hadn't heard... most National Parks are not dog friendly and don't allow dogs on trails that aren't paved. Bummer. At least I did know this going in to this trip). 

But back to finding camp spots... the first trial was in eastern Colorado, where we (my friend A and I) realized we were to get a few inches of snow overnight. So we abandoned the plan for the spot I had marked (Campendium app, you have been a life-saver!) and aimed toward something that might not be back a long dirt road with the possibility of being snowed in. First try: Love's travel stop. But the car parking area said “no overnight parking” and the back lot was full of tractor-trailers. And I felt like a bug in the middle of them all and not exactly keen on spending the night in this lot. Second try: a state park campground. By the time we drove there, it was snowing, the campground was pretty deserted, it was all open land with shelters that were facing the wrong way for the wind, and on top of the camping fee, Colorado likes to charge a $10 per day vehicle fee. So another $20 on top of staying there for the night. We declined. Third try: Wal-Mart parking lot. Which is where we stayed for the night, cooking outside in the dark and the snow. Couldn't set up my portable potty, but at least before 10:00pm and after 7:00am we had access to a warm bathroom and running water! 

Attempting to cook dinner in the Wal-Mart parking lot while it snowed around us

Then 2 nights later in a very touristy town in Colorado (which was beautiful – the “Switzerland of America”), the spot I found was a few miles up the road – literally up, into the mountains. Thus, being April in Colorado mountains, we arrived to find the drive covered in several inches of snow. Nope, not attempting that in this vehicle. Drove back to town and NOWHERE allows overnight parking. Even with the threat “to be reported to the sheriff”. I was exhausted by this time and just wanted a spot to stop and be for the night. Only RV campgrounds in the town, which can be so expensive, and the one that wasn't as pricey was closed for the season. A was ready to drive back an hour to the spot from the night before, but I was so not in the mood to spend that time. I was done. So we ended up pulling into an RV camp, where the lady was kind enough to give a small discount for car camping (not using the electric). In the end, it was a good choice, since we also had access to laundry facilities AND they let us use the code to get back into the bathhouse the following day after our hike so we could shower. Maggie also got a shower, since she thoroughly enjoyed the hike, evidenced by the cakes of mud on her feet. (side note: it's complicated to wash a dog in a shower with no removable shower head. The water stream at the floor is not powerful enough to do much, so I ended up holding her and scrubbing her at the same time. As I said: complicated.)

View from the RV camp: also not bad :)

And then the following night, we drove to gorgeous spot overlooking snow-capped mountains, but was at an altitude of 8800 feet, which A didn't think she would handle very well. So we kept driving toward the next town, gradually losing elevation but still in National Forest area, hoping for a forest road we could pull off on. But as it was closer to town, it also became more populated. We drove road after road and nothing for probably an hour. Eventually, one last effort on Missionary Ridge Rd, some houses were at the beginning the road and then a sign “Private property next 1.5 miles. No camping”. So camping must be allowed! Three miles back and up we found a little pull-off and claimed it. And it was beautiful. One of the best camping views we've had.

And finally, leaving Mesa Verde National Park and heading into Utah, there is almost literally nothing. It becomes desert. Mesas and desert shrubs and more mesas and more desert shrubs. In looking for any camp spot, it seemed there were 2 options: a casino parking lot or a campground a little farther away for $15, first come, first served. We opted for the campground. Drove through the 4 corners (unfortunately closed, including Grandma's Frybread Shack, which I was really looking forward to! Apparently all Native American sites are currently closed). So the most we can say is that we were in 4 different states within half an hour. And then drove up a long, barren road for miles and more miles. And where my app said there should have been a campground... more barrenness. Hmmm... I also did not have cell signal at this point, so no data to figure out where it should have been. We had to keep driving, and fortunately got enough signal to search for the campground and find it... another 45 minutes from where we were. And it was already quite full by the time we got there – maybe 2 spots left out of 27. But also pretty. And for the very first time, we weren't freezing to cook dinner and could even stay outside in the evening to have a mini fire! Thank you, Utah, for warmer temps. But no thanks for the upcoming WINDY nights we experienced... but that's another story.

supposed spot of the Utah campground.... jk, I don't think I took a picture of the marked location, but it was something like this minus the picturesque mesa in the background

singleness journey: the Kitchen Aid

It's somewhat of a tradition within my family that for a wedding present you receive a Kitchen Aid. I guess it's one of those items that, because of cost, a wedding provides a justification to spend that much money or combine efforts to gift such an item. And I know for a fact that this isn't unique to my family; I know of several others for whom this is the case. 

December 2019, as my parents were visiting me in Prague and I was mixing some kind of cookie dough (because some US Christmas cookies are always necessary and it's an easy gift to bring to holiday gatherings), I was lamenting (or perhaps closer to expressing frustration and complaining) the unfairness of this tradition. Here I am, single, never having “the reason” to be gifted a Kitchen Aid, when most, if not all my married siblings and cousins probably have one. And it's possible that I have reason to use it more than most of them, because a huge part of ministry in my context is hosting, taking food to events, giving food gifts, etc.... US baked goods are unique and a treat. :) This sometimes makes planning and giving easier (brownies and cookies always welcome), but every time I bake and use my cheap little hand mixer that sprays flour all over the counter and myself, my frustration is present. 

Because why is it that “the wedding” suddenly makes you worthy of receiving all the gifts you wouldn't buy for yourself? Why is it that celebration comes down to celebrating the social norms - the wedding, the baby, the new house...? What happens for those who don't have any of those? Who, either by their own choice or the way life has fallen, are unmarried, childless, forever living in a rental? To be truly authentic, I've struggled with this in the past few years. As more and more friends get married, have their first child or buy a house, the world “sees” them and celebrates with them. It's what's normal. It's expected. It's celebrated. Me, I feel like I'm rarely seen. Rarely celebrated. Never have a reason to be celebrated. And expected to be with everyone else in their celebration. Now, I usually WANT to celebrate with others, but celebrating time after time with someone else is a constant reminder that I am never seen as the reason for celebration.

Now I have some wonderful friends and family who have seen me and have celebrated me well. A going away party last summer before I traveled to the US for an extended period. A birthday party hosted by my sister when I have the rare occasion to be in the States for my birthday. I've felt seen, wanted and affirmed by them. 

And yet there is a piece of me that, come another wedding or baby shower, laments what isn't. The cultural views of a “normal life” haven't happened for me yet. Part of me feels very selfish in sharing this... because shouldn't I just be happy with everyone else? Isn't it prideful to want to be seen and celebrated with? Is it me wanting attention, to be noticed? I wish I could be in a place where I'm joyfully celebrating with others with no thought of myself. But often I'm not. Generally joyful with others, yes. With no thought of myself, generally no. Sure, ideally I could simply give and love and trust that God is meeting me in what is not. I at the very least take it to him; the feelings of insignificance and often, what feels like invisibility in family-oriented cultures. Among friends, family, and even the church. 

But every one of us has desires. Desires that are good. Desires that reflect God and his desires. Because God desires to be noticed and seen. He desires to be celebrated. And as created in his image, these desires he also put in us. Yes, he asks me to surrender these desires and seek them in him, be satisfied in him first and foremost. But it doesn't mean that I can't desire them and occasionally have them in my physical world and community. 

As a single woman watching the world around me celebrate with these progressions in others' lives, I long for a world in which marriage and children were not the only cultural ideals. For a world where these were not milestones and elevated above being single, childless or owning property. For a world in which every person could be seen and celebrated for any reason. 

I share all of this to be authentic and to hopefully raise awareness and sensitivity for the people we care about around us. I'm not asking for pity or a next celebration (though I'm always looking for something else to look forward to :) ). Rather I'd love for a broader awareness and potentially, a shift in perspective. Traditionally our culture has celebrated these big milestones. It's also somewhat created a culture where those it hasn't happened for can feel left behind or even less than. It's hugely unfortunate, because I don't think that's anyone's intent. But it has happened. So what can we do and how can we respond? 

I doubt we're going to change the huge celebrations of a wedding or baby shower anytime soon. That's not necessarily necessary (though living in another culture for the past years, I can tell you that they are WAY less emphasized, built up and consumeristic than in the US). But I do want to share a few more concrete ideas of what awareness might look like. If you have single friends in your sphere, maybe these pieces would be helpful. 

I am also very aware that these come from MY experience and desires and may not fit every single person. If you are single, I would love to hear and gain from your experience – what resonates and what doesn't? Please leave a message in the comments! And if you have single friends, ask them what they would appreciate. These may not fit everyone.

For me, these are a few ideas of what awareness and sensitivity could look like:

• Just ask. I'm sometimes annoyed that talking with single people (or maybe childess couples) feels taboo. Yes, I recognize it can be a sensitive subject. So instead of assuming (i.e. "When is it your turn?"), start by exploring... "Where is your heart regarding singleness? What are your hopes? What are the challenges and joys"

• At the next wedding or baby shower or celebration of a “norm” that you recognize someone else is not experiencing, take the time to notice them. And again, ask. “How are you experiencing this (fill in the blank)?” This tells me that I'm seen and someone cares.

• This may not completely fill the desires of a single person, but take the time to celebrate them and the pieces that ARE happening in their life. A promotion. The purchase of a house. Birthdays. Celebration in accordance with their personality, of course. :) The single person does not have the built-in other to initiate something for them. 

  
  

Shortly after Christmas 2019, I received a message from my parents: the family wanted to give me money to buy a Kitchen Aid for myself. I don't know what conspired to make that happen, but in that moment I felt seen. I felt a family valuing me for who I am, what I do and where I am in life rather than the societal norm of valuing a wedding and spouse and marriage. Getting the mixer was another story (basically, it costs 3x as much in the Czech and so picked one up on a trip to Germany, where friends graciously let me send it to their address there). But the sentiment was huge and I'll be reminded of its significance every time I bake – as will happen many times over for guests and parties and holidays... Anything is reason for American treats. :) 

a sabbatical journey: Minnie tour and week 1

 Here you are, folks. The finished van. 

(Sorry for the wonkiness of the video. First, it's hard to show a van and keep a phone steady while trying to get a good view and without making everyone dizzy. Second, I tried to stabilize the video which just made it worse 😄 But I don't have time to fix it right now, so this is what you get!)

Day 3, Kalamazoo, Michigan:  Maggie and I started out on our own for the first time today. Since she didn't have a lap to sit on (I wouldn't let her sit on mine, as much as she wanted to), she sat on the little tray between the 2 seats so she could be as close to me as possible without actually being on my lap. And every time I open the door, she's ready to hop out (as in, get me out of here!). She's not a very contented traveler :(

Upon arrival at the Empire Bluff Trail in Sleeping Bear Dunes National Lakeshore, she was ready to go. And she LOVES sand, so this is a perfect place for her... as long as we can find trails that don't have a “no pets beyond this point” sign (something about preserving habitat for the endangered Piping Plover nesting sites... ok, I guess that's legit). So today, one trail with Maggie and one without her. And a beach for her to run on for a while.

(side note: I must say, for pit toilets that the park has, they are quite decent. Yes, still smelly. But large, many rolls of TP and generally clean. With hand sanitizer. And they can be found at every trailhead. Quite handy!)

And then comes the slightly stressful part of the day... finding a place to park and sleep. There are no designated free dispersed camping (camping outside of a designated campground) in northern Michigan that I could find. There is national forest land I drove through on the way here, but that's 60 miles away... not really looking to go that far. So I drove to the nearest town, almost a village, hoping that maybe I could inconspicuously park on a street. Well, that won't work. In this town, I'd be pretty obvious. Or hoping that there would be a random forest road that I could drive down a bit out of sight. Nope, not in this area. Just loads and loads of driveways off to what I imagine are vacation homes – beautiful mansion vacation homes. If I knew they were vacant, it would be so easy to pull in a driveway. There must be someone who would just let me park in their driveway for a night!

Eventually I drove down what looked like an empty road to find one gorgeous villa and then shortly after, a loop for the cul-de-sac development (very fancy development) that will be. In the middle of the loop is a patch of trees, so at the moment, I'm pulled behind the trees in such a way that I can't see the house up the street... and hopefully they can't see me. I have to admit that I'm a bit nervous – that someone will come up on me, or the neighbors will call the police. I don't think it would be a problem more than them asking me to move, but that would not be pleasant in the middle of the night – the moving part or being approached by who knows who! So we'll see what happens till morning.

Oh, and the other problem with this particular spot is that I can't really pull out the toilet to put anywhere and even the possibility of going to the woods is kind of ruled out - the trees behind me are marked “no trespassing”. So I might need to pull out the toilet and put it beside my bed – potentially not pulling out the whole bed tonight, but just sleeping on the bench as is. 

I'm looking forward to farther west where finding spots to camp shouldn't be as complicated.

Following day update: no disturbances in the middle of the night. The cushions are fairly comfortable to sleep on, though I think it'll be easier once I do actually set up the bed fully. But I pulled out the stove in the morning and boiled water for tea and I never saw a soul. Even when Maggie took off after deer in the morning and I went traipsing through the woods yelling for her, certain that someone in the houses behind those "no trespassing" signs would come out asking what the ruckus was all about at 7:30 in the morning. 

And no update on my little heater. I was quite warm enough in the evening and didn't light it. On the other hand, I woke up to a very chilly 33 degrees. I was warm, thanks to a cozy sleeping bag! But definitely did not want to crawl out into the frigidness of the morning.

a sabbatical journey: minivan conversion

 So what is sabbatical supposed to look like? I have no idea. Especially during COVID. I was hoping for a few things that might be out of the ordinary; a chance to experiment and explore in ways that aren't feasible in daily life. But last year when I was planning, I didn't have a good vision. 

In September when I returned, I saw a newspaper article on therapy dogs and got really excited about getting Maggie certified. But alas, the trainings were cancelled and regardless, in the facilities where therapy dogs would visit, visitors weren't allowed in anyway.

And so after the holidays and a retreat away in January, I was in York wondering what was going to be a focus and feel life-giving in the coming months. I hoped to plan a trip west to some National parks in April and May, but was also struggling to figure travel and lodging along with Maggie in a way that was going to be economical for multiple weeks. Not really wanting to set up camp constantly, and not wanting to book places to stay and be confined to a strict schedule, I thought a camper van would be nice. But more issues as they are really expensive to rent. 

Until my mom suggested converting a van. And I got excited about the possibility: something concrete to focus on and a way to explore something different, something I definitely wouldn't have the opportunity for in normal life. I don't have the carpentry skills, but she does. Enough to put together what we wanted. And between her and me, we are creative enough to figure out how to make it what we want.

So first step: find a van.

Meet Minnie.

Simple, unadorned, but sufficient for the purposes.

And then gutting her. Only a few bolts to unscrew to get those back seats out. More complicated was figuring out which levers to pull to get out the removable seats 😄

And then planning. Lots and lots of planning. Google searches. Minivan conversion research. 

Bed. Cushions. Storage. Curtains. Electric. 

What I would need to power a cooler. Is it possible? (In the end, no electric cooler - I just don't have the skill or time to install the solar panel and following electrical that I would probably need.) What kind of bed can I convert into seating? How does the bed get supported? How does anything we build get secured in the van? How will I have phone signal (and data) in remote parts of Colorado and Utah? Brainstorming what is possible and what would be nice and what feels feasible. 

We started with 2 benches with storage underneath, the second of which pulls out to make a 6x4 foot bed. This is the beginning of the frame for the benches/bed. Supposedly simple. In reality... not so much. I should have calculated how many hours we spent calculating and cutting and screwing... and then unscrewing and recalculating and recutting and rescrewing. And who knew, but there is barely one inch of level floor in that van. Not the easiest to try to make a level bed.

But it came together. And then putting the top on, slides in so that the one bench slides out flat and trying to figure out how to support the slide part of the bed. Fortunately between the two of us we came up with ideas of how to support all that needs to be supported. But man, my brain has been exhausted after many, many hours of calculations and problem-solving. 

And then cushions... did you know you can cut foam with an electric meat knife? Wesley and Maggie very much enjoyed the foam. And after hours looking for a decently-priced upholstery fabric that I liked, I narrowed it down to 25 options 😂 Maybe I'm too idealistic, but it had to be light enough to not make the space feel smaller than it already it and have enough pattern to make it interesting without being overwhelming. But I found one. Decision-making is not my strong suit. 

sneak peek at the cushions here!

And then a cabinet for the back that will provide storage... space for a cooler, portable toilet, stove and whatever else I'll need for the kitchen. Mom took an old kitchen cabinet she had in storage and sawed it off to fit the space. And then calculating how much space we need to fit the equipment and get into the cooler, remove the cooler and remove the toilet. So the upper shelves had to be removable. Again, a lot of calculating and recalculating, sawing and resawing, screwing and rescrewing. Mom said today that we've built this cabinet 3 times now 😳 But it's finally getting there. As of today, shelves are in and the stove has a place to sit. Good thing, too... 10 days till departure. Now just to figure out how the propane bottle for the stove will fit... unfortunately the shelf itself is not wide enough for it. 🙄 Who knows to figure in all these things from the beginning?! Not these amateurs. 

Curtains are still being figured out (again, no straight walls... and we're trying to do this so the set up is completely removable - no holes in the van! Current plan is PVC pipe into the garment hooks in the back of the van). Still a couple supports to put on the bed. Flooring to velcro in place. Cabinet to screw in place. A few other odds and ends... including a nice little paper towel holder on top of my cabinet. 

So you'll have to come back later for the big reveal 😄 The end is in sight and I'm looking forward to having a cute tiny space for 6 weeks. It's not a perfect design, but it's fun to know we created it ourselves and it will be functional and aesthetically pleasing. 

That last piece was important to me. It's going to be my home for 6 weeks. A space to relax, rest, commune with God. And in a life that often feels very transitional and occasionally that I have no home (hello...all my belongings in Prague are in storage), I appreciate spaces that I can feel safe and at peace. That I can in a way make it my sanctuary. So I maybe spent a little more money on pieces to make it look good, but it'll be worth it. I can't wait to show you! (and maybe more so, I can't wait to have it finished! 😁)

I Hope You Dance: a sabbatical journey

 Mennonites don't dance.

That's just the way it is, right?

I don't dance. I CAN'T dance. That's the message I've told myself.
I feel the awkwardness of moving. Self-consciousness. 
    Fear.
    Of what others think. Their judgement. Their snickers. 

    How awkward and stiff and unnatural I must look.
More self-consciousness. Added embarrassment.

And yet there was the dream of a little girl
        watching the Nutcracker, longing to move gracefully across the floor.
A dream of being a ballerina. A Christmas tree ornament beautifully dressed in a pink tutu to represent the dream. An expression of fluidity and freedom. Worship in the graceful movement of the body.

But the body is evil. 

Movement is suggestive. 

The body to be repressed and hidden. 

            ...Is the message received. 

And yet...

Dance is something I've been drawn to for a long time. For a brief period, it was brought to life at camp and college through square dancing and swing dancing – dance that had more specific movements I could follow. Because hey, I'm still fairly uncoordinated and feel unnatural moving. But specific steps – ok, I can handle that.

More recently, as God has been stirring more self-confidence, there's been a little voice in the back of my mind suggesting joining a class, exploring something new, just to see how it goes. To step out of my box a bit. 

And now, sabbatical. A chance to rest, retreat... and the space to try something new. Give myself permission to explore and be energized in new ways. And now, this includes a worship dance class. 

The obvious factors:

• I'm 20 years older than anyone else in the class

• I have NO dance experience, compared to the girls who naturally know what “2^nd position” and “releve” and “plié” mean

• I suck at picking up choreography. No, really. The instructor runs through a section once or twice and the girls have it, whereas I stand there stupefied and trying to figure our which leg needs to go where and which arm I'm supposed to extend...

In the midst of those factors, this is what I've noticed:

I made the effort to find and join a class. Even knowing what it would be like. Years ago, the intimidation itself would have prevented me entering in, or giving up soon after starting. The fear of not being able to do it. Of looking foolish. Yep, still have that fear. But this time I'm choosing to push through it and sometimes even laugh at myself. So what has God done in me to bring me to a place of trying, even with the chance of failure, or what may appear like failure? Obviously some pieces of affirming who I am, a rootedness that maybe wasn't present before. Enough to be in the studio with these girls who are capable and let myself look odd and untrained and just enjoy what I can do. To be ok with my inexperience and being where I'm at without self-judgement and without projecting my own judgement of myself onto others, that they're judging me, too. And to receive God's delight in the trying, the exploring and even the awkwardness. I sense him cheering on even the chaos of it. “Try again! Don't worry about the others; you make it your own and enjoy this process of creating with me.”

(*Side note, because of the fear of failing, in this I'm so thankful I won't be part of their recital in the spring – I would stick out like a sore thumb as I would lag clumsily 2 beats behind everyone else! And probably ruin the whole effect of the dance. But because I won't be part of the recital, it gives me release to try and not feel the stress of getting it right.)

I WANT to be able to express myself and my worship through movement. It feels like an added element of release and giving. Yes, I still feel more self-conscious than I would like. But I believe that in the process God is pleased with my effort. He sees and delights in my heart and posture. And in it is an expression of worship previously unaccessed. There are moments of discouragement and anxiousness in trying to pick up movements and remember them. But then there are the moments of joy in getting it, in being able to move, of learning a new routine and finding pleasure in it. 

The instructor has said that I have natural movement. I'm not sure exactly what that means, but I want to believe that there is something that God has placed within me to use. Maybe it was dormant. Maybe it was never explored, whether it was never given the chance or because my fear held me back. And I wonder: are there other pieces that God has stirred in me that I've pushed down or ignored because of what I tell myself? That I haven't accepted an invitation for? That I can't? That it's too risky? That I'll look silly? That I might fail? That... ? Or even other pieces that he just hasn't stirred to life yet?

And then I notice the invitations I receive:

Accept. Accept myself where I am, how I am. Without judgement. 

Freedom. Freedom to try, to explore. To succeed or fail. 

Notice. Notice what is stirring or has been stirred in the past that I haven't yet chosen to accept the invitation to. Haven't yet asked what's in it or what God might want to do with it. 

Enjoy. Enjoy being in the moment without criticism. Enjoy his delight in my effort and exploration. Just be. Just dance.

Unfortunately, I will be ending my class next week, because I'll be traveling and exploring in a different way in this sabbatical season. But I don't want to lose the freedom and the growth. Don't want to lose the courage to step out and explore without self-judgement. Don't want to miss out because I haven't followed up on an invitation. It's a process for me, but has been worth stepping out. What might your invitation be? 

I hope you dance.

 

I hope you never lose your sense of wonder,
You get your fill to eat but always keep that hunger,
May you never take one single breath for granted,
God forbid love ever leave you empty handed,
I hope you still feel small when you stand beside the ocean,
Whenever one door closes I hope one more opens,
Promise me that you'll give faith a fighting chance,
And when you get the choice to sit it out or dance. 

I hope you dance... I hope you dance... 

I hope you never fear those mountains in the distance 
Never settle for the path of least resistance 
Livin' might mean takin' chances, but they're worth takin',
Lovin' might be a mistake, but it's worth makin',
Don't let some Hell bent heart leave you bitter,
When you come close to sellin' out reconsider,
Give the heavens above more than just a passing glance,
And when you get the choice to sit it out or dance.

I hope you dance... I hope you dance.
I hope you dance... I hope you dance.
(Time is a wheel in constant motion always rolling us along,
Tell me who wants to look back on their years
And wonder where those years have gone.)

                                                            Lee Ann Womack

Lessons from Maggie: part 2

 

Psalm 139
A rewrite for Maggie

1 You have searched for me, Maggie
    and you have found me.
2 You are at my feet when I sit and on my heels when I rise;
    you keep a close eye on me, never afar.
3 You sense when I am leaving and ecstatically greet me in coming home;
    keeping watch at the door until I enter.
4 Before I speak the words, “We're going running”,
   you know it and lay down in protest, but still follow because you can't stay away. 
5 You hem my days, curled by my side in sleep
   and lunging at my face as I wake (please stop).
6 Such devotion is too wonderful for me;
   too baffling for me to comprehend

7 Where can I flee from your presence?
   Where can I escape from you following?
8 If I move to another room, you are there, a silent black shadow sticking close;
    if I lay on the couch, you beg to lay beside me.
9 If I wander outside,
    if I trudge up and down stairs umpteen times to get something I need from upstairs,
10 even then your presence follows;
    you can't let me out of your sight.
11 If I say, “Surely the bathroom will hide me
   and I'm have moments of solitude,”
12 even the door is not a barrier to you;
    you barge in to find me,
    leaving everything exposed, but satisfied in knowing where I am.

Seriously, in the past months, especially as I'm staying with my parents in a much larger house than the space we have in Prague, Maggie has reminded me of the closeness of the presence of the Holy Spirit. It's somewhat comical in this house, her need to follow. Because I'm not calling her to follow; I'm often not even aware under she's suddenly by my side or sitting on the carpet in front of me with a toy in her mouth. I'm never far from her sight or her awareness. I leave the room; she immediately knows and follows, almost frantic to be close. But wow, a powerful spiritual image for me: the consistency and constantness of her – and His – presence. Her DESIRE to be close. And has challenged me in my attentiveness and awareness of his closeness and desire to be with me. 

(Maybe a better metaphor would be how much I am aware of and devoted to the Spirit's way as closely as Maggie follows and is devoted to me. But in the past months it has been encouraging to relate Maggie to the Spirit, simply longing to be close and with me, so let's stick with that for now and leave the other for another time. :) )

Longing to be invited up to the couch to sit close. Sometimes content to simply lay nearby on the rug. So happy with a look her way, evidenced by back end wagging, hoping for some affection. Rolling over in anticipation of a belly rub – despite the fact that she's 10 feet away and can't be reached! But the simple joy in the attention, joy in receiving a look that says “I'm paying attention to you”. 

Does the Father have the same joy and excitement when my attention is toward him? I think he might; that it does give him pleasure – those moments when I turn toward him and notice his presence. I glimpse his grin, his look of delight, face beaming to enjoy the moment with me and enjoy me. His joy in being seen. Because yes, I believe he has those desires to be seen and known - those desires in me are a reflection of his. 

I confess that I am not so faithful and constant as he: I'm so easily distracted, find other things to focus on, and go through the day unaware of almost anything. And yet his gaze is constant, his presence always close. Like Maggie, never letting me out of his sight. And waiting expectantly for that moment when my glance is also going to turn his way.