Some of the Greatest Things are Unexplained

I have been house sitting for the past few days.  Usually when you are in a new place sleep can be elusive or somewhat shallow.  This has not been the case.  I have been sleeping deeply and have not felt so rested for a while. Perhaps it is the massive black lab by my side; snoring so hard that he could suck the paint off the walls.
This morning was odd.  I awoke to let him out to run just as the orange rays of sunlight broke through the gray, thick clouds.  Half asleep and rubbing my eyes, I was stopped in my tracks at the sight.  It was beautiful.  Hank soon reminded me to snap out of it and open the door!  I let him out and fell back to sleep.
About an hour later, the next thing I heard, woke me like a caress.  Church bells, off in the distance.  Easing the covers back I padded into the kitchen to start the coffee.  Silence filled the house;  which incidentally provides a great environment to think.
In the South, many people go to church;  some do not.  I started thinking about Easter Sunday and what that means to us.  I have many friends that do not attend church. Yet, they pray as much as church goers do.  They have shown me more stability and love than some religious folks.  In moments of need and extreme pain it is those same people and my Christian friends that have provided the comfort and love that Christ asks us to.  Some have been hurt by the church or should I say the people in it.  Some people have work that does not permit regular attendance. Whatever their reason I think about the negativity they associate with the church.  I started pondering how much of the aversion to church was contributed to God vs the people in the church.  I am not hear to  point fingers, fuss, spit, and snarl; enough of that has been done evidently.  I just know what I have been told.  Maybe it is time for us church goers to, once more, reexamine our hearts. Are we misjudging people?  I can say that my heart has hurt for the last two years, even when I sit in church.  This morning the church bells, brought a sense of peace that I can not explain.  Not a word was spoken, the  melody simply floated across the fields and filled a void in my soul I had not even identified.  Sometimes the greatest thing we, as Christians, can offer the world is a melody with no words or opinions, like the church bells. After all, the best intentions, can still be words that are heard as "a resounding gong." (1 Corinthians 13:13)
My last parting thought... after a wonderful cup of coffee, I became completely conscious. :) I get that from my mother, "consciousness requires coffee."  I started wondering what church was close by that may still have bells that ring on a schedule.  It seems to be a sweet tradition that is becoming more rare these days.  The  closest church is a few miles down the way, but church bells do not play before 8 AM on a Saturday morning. Come to think of it, I have never heard them while visiting my friend at any time of the day.  Sometimes the greatest gifts are undeserved and unexplained.
Tomorrow is Easter. Whatever your plans for the day are, I hope you spend a day filled with joy and you are wrapped in unexplained peace from God because He loves you. I am sorry if some of us church goers have stepped in between you and God intentionally or unintentonally  with opinions and idle chatter.  As always you are welcome visit with me and the family at our home church, no words or strings attached. Happy Easter!

My First Elk Hunt!

The 5:30AM wake up whisper, through the door, resounded through the room and finally penetrated the sleeping bag I was burrowed within.  I croaked, "I'm up."  I slid my feet into my hot pink boots. (They are water proof I might add!)  Two seasoned elk hunters equipped me with a camo fleece jacket that hit my knees and a camo baseball hat; since mine was home in NC.
After hearing "Uncle" Bobby use the Elk Cow call I could mimic the sound with the tool:  one long with 2 or 3 short bursts depending on hand gestures given in the woods.
As the menfolk gathered their bows, I am called upon every ounce of self control to contain my excitement and remain quiet as I met them  them outside the front door.  We were shrouded in fog, but the Montana moon was brighter than any North Carolina coastal lighthouse!
Uncle Sam and Uncle Bobby checked over everything a final time.  Bobby used the bull call.  Before the last breath left the end of the tube the hauntingly beautiful notes of a real bull elk answered.  I was mesmerized.  He was so close!
I was brought out of  paralyzed/awed state when I heard one of the men hiss, "find cover!"  The three of us moved into the tree line and stayed quiet.  We hear the elk's repeated call but from over the next ridge. Unfortunately, we must have been seen.  We set off quickly into the draw in the general direction of an entirely different singing elk.  I try to step in the footprints of Uncle Sam to help move as quietly and swiftly as possible.  The elk answer our call almost everytime .  They always seem just beyond the extent of our vision.  How can such a huge animal remain so elusive?
At the end of the day we came out of the woods "empty handed."  But you know I enjoyed hearing first hand accounts from those two brothers about other hunting expeditions with family members that are no longer with us, but have not been forgotten.  Hunting is taken very seriously in my own family.  I realize what a privilege it was to tag along.  It was only one day, but it was definitely one of the best days I have had in Montana.
This weekend is opening weekend and I am wedding free.  This time there will be more of this incredible family present.  I am sure there will be plenty more stories and laughter.  I will layer up in hope that "a big daddy elk" will come our way. However, because of Uncle Sam and Uncle Bobby taking me on my first elk hunt, I realize a trophy isn't the only thing you can bring out of the woods to enjoy the day.  A full heart was pretty great itself.

A Lesson From Bananas

How bananas broadened my scope and adjusted my attitude this week.

I re-learned a lesson this week that I am ashamed to say I needed. 

It’s been a busy week, but Tuesday when I took a break at work, I ran to the store to grab a few things I needed and somethings I just wanted. Wanted for me usually means some kind of fruit.  I buzzed through the store and quickly took my place in line behind a woman whom I thought was almost finished unloading her buggy of groceries. 

The conversation between this woman and our cashier caught my attention.  She was deciding what items she needed to put back.  I glanced down at her buggy and noted she didn’t seem to be making frivolous purchases but was buying what Southerners call “staples” in the kitchen.  My heart ached a bit for her.  But who isn’t on a budget these days?

The cashier from the next line motioned that he could help me.  I smiled and declined.   Oh I desperately wanted to just be about my business and get back to work, but the woman’s words had frozen me in my tracks.  “This means I can’t have my bananas!” A few words followed that I won’t repeat.  Let’s suffice it to say she was frustrated and disappointed fruit wasn’t included in what she was taking home.  

The cashier stepped away to bring a buggy over for what the customer had been able to purchase.  What could I do?  I can’t fix her financial situation?!?!? Could I afford to just buy the rest of the groceries?  I mentally started calculating the cost of the left over contents of the buggy.  Questions arose in my mind, “Is her need legitimate? Wonder what her situation is.”  What does that even mean and what does it matter when someone is hungry?!!?!?   The mental battle had begun.  I thought to myself, You just wouldn’t go to the other line when offered! You could be half way back to work by now.”  I recoiled at my own train of thought!  I was talking myself out of compassion for another human being!  I was trying to release myself from the responsibility that comes with being aware of an issue. Just because I didn’t have the definitive answer to her problem didn’t mean I could look the other way! In the South, there is a phrase someone needed to say to me, “You aughta be ashamed uh’yerself”  You know what?  I was.

I looked down at the strawberries I was buying “just because.”  I gave myself a verbal spanking- so to speak, adjusted my attitude, put on a smile, and in true Southern fashion inserted myself smack dab in the middle of her business.  I opened with, “Rough day?” yada yada yada....and informed her I was buying her bananas.

I’d like to say it felt good and I walked away feeling like I had done something great.  It didn’t feel like enough, but better than nothing right?  I still regret not buying the rest of her groceries.  I realize I was looking too much at the big picture.  It is important to do what you can when you can. I can’t end world hunger, fix the economy, put people back in jobs, or alleviate financial burdens.  I had forgotten to look for the opportunities around me everyday to make a difference where and when I can. Things worth doing aren’t always BIG and usually don’t come labeled, “OPPORTUNITY.”   I thought I knew and practiced this, evidently I needed reminding. 

     Whether or not this woman was down on her luck or on a chosen path riddled with bad decisions, I don’t know.  But I think we all deserve bananas.  I am aware there are lots of hungry people out there but, one lady and her bananas reminded me....one person at a time.

A Story From Years Ago That Changed My Life

Many years ago, I was the Vice President of the National Honor Society.  One of my responsibilities was delivering a devotion/moral lesson to the group and faculty.  A couple weeks ago, one of the stories came back to me.  Always drawn to trees, I stopped jogging one day to enjoy the scene only to notice the fence's characteristics.  The holes in the fence brought one story from the deep recesses of my memory.  This fence reminds me to guard my words in life.  Here is why.

There was a young boy that had been using unkind words to those around him at school.  His teachers discussed the problem with his father.  Rather than taking his son to task directly, the father chose to find other means of deeply rooting the lesson of "choosing your words in life carefully."  When he and his son were outside working he mentioned hurtful words.  He told his son, "For the next week I want you to hammer a nail in the fence for each unkind and unfeeling thing you say to someone."  The boy soon noticed in the days that followed there were a lot of nails in the fence.  His father walked outside as the boy was hammering yet another nail in the fence.  "Son, now let's move forward.  For every apology you give to someone, remove a nail."  Days later, the boy very proudly showed his father a nail free fence!  "See Dad? I've apologized, no more nails.  Everything is fine now!"  At this point the father put his arm around his young son and acknowledged his attentiveness and hard work.  He also pointed out, though the nails had been removed, but the fence still bore the scars.  He explained that even though, we sometimes say things in the heat of the moment and apologize after, people can still bear scars as well from our thoughtless words.

Soothed, Stirred, and Reflected

It is funny how music can soothe us, stir us, or reflect us.  I can't say whether I choose music based on the mood I am in or based on the mood I would rather be in. Perhaps both depending on the moment.

I appreciate most genres.  Today, I want to discuss bluegrass/folk.  I will say a banjo and fiddle can always bring a smile to my face.  At a recent wedding, in Montana, the couple chose a bluegrass band.  (The couple was from NC.)  I was photographing the cocktail hour when the warm, embracing sound of home engulfed me through the music.  I was in one of my favorite places physically, but in that moment, the music transported me to "the back porches" of the South.  They are places where a warm evening is great for an impromptu gathering and instruments are always welcome.  Dancing to this music has no formal steps. The motion runs from the heart and soul, throughout the body.  There are no judgements - just "home folk." I could not have been happier.  I had the best of both worlds- Montana and the South.  I would also point out that a true musical artist can preform despite distraction.  This banjo player may not be world renown. However, he was kind enough to let me photograph during his performance.  If he missed a note I was not aware of it. 

Before I sign off I'd like to explore another quote.  "March to the beat of your own drum."  Now I have always been drawn to the drums, but perhaps you would like to march to the banjo or any other favored instrument.  That would be alright with me.  Can I encourage you to dance instead of march?

What Coffee Sunday Afternoon "Percolated."

This past Sunday afternoon, I walked down to a local coffee shop.  I took a book I have been reading and the journal I jot random thoughts in.  It was Father's Day.  Despite the fact that I am immensely happy here, in Montana, I wanted to hug my Dad.  I sat alone on the patio drinking my coffee. The beautiful sunshine and nice breeze brought a smile to my face and inspired me to write. I grabbed the journal out of my bag.  You see, a wonderful individual in my life has ever so gently pushed me to start writing these random thoughts and stories down...  so I have started... in my on way, of course.  I find the tiniest things spark an entry.  The topic this weekend.  

"Doing Well and Doing Good."

The South isn't known for its good grammar or correct pronunciations.  However, underneath Southern twangs and euphemisms you will find so much more. Yep, there are plenty of phrases that roll of the tongue like "meltin' butter off a warm biscuit."  If you pause for a moment, you will find the meaning so much more profound than the colorful and melodic choice of words.

For example, "Hope yer doin good."  Most people in our fast paced society would just nod assuming we meant, "I hope you are doing well."  I won't bend the truth, sometimes it is what we mean. There is always an exception to the rule, and so it is in this phrase as well...."I hope yer doin good."  I hope you are taking action, embracing opportunities, enriching the world and those around you with GOOD things & GOOD attitudes, and using all the gifts you have been blessed with.  Afterall, how can you be doing good, and not doing well as a result?  So, the next time someone passes you on the street, throws up a hand in greeting, and declares, "Hope yer doin good,"  I hope you are.  

Some People Stand Out in a Crowd

This is not the most artistic or technically correct photograph, but the subject itself is the art!  

Have you ever known someone that just seems to stand out in a crowd? I find it is the details in a person that put them on a different level. They raise the bar.  Let me tell you about my Dad.  I remember playing softball when I was younger.  It was my dad that would practice with me.  He even busted my mouth with a fast ball. (ACCIDENTLY!)  I learned to get the glove up faster.   We did not stop playing right off that day.  I remember seeing a little blood on the ball, my teeth hurt, and holding back tears as I shot an accusatory look at him.  He studied me a second then said, “Ahhh you’re aite. Throw it here.”  I did, hard, because I was mad then.  A few minutes later, my sister walked out the back door, looked at me and said, “WHOA! WHAT HAPPENED TO YOUR MOUTH.” Yeh, I cried then while my dad just looked at her and shook his head.  Ah, the power of suggestion.  Bless his heart he lived with THREE women!  

Later on at ballgames, it was my Dad’s whistle amongst the crowd that I could recognize as I ran the bases.  Anyone can be a father, it takes someone special to be a Dad.  My Dad has supported me, whether he has agreed with my decisions/interests.  He may not like them right off, but he puts forth an effort and always does the right thing.  That is what matters to me.   

I have watched my Dad’s life over the years.  He is steady. He lives a faithful life and works hard at his hobbies, interests, work, and most importantly at his family. There is so much about my Dad that I admire but a couple things that stand out are: his efforts to reflect and better himself and how he loves his family.   This man once tossed the keys to his 1970 LT-1 Corvette to me, his 18 yr old daughter, and said, “You are driving home. You helped me work on the brakes.”  I could drive trucks that were straight drives, but a muscle car is a horse of a different color.  And this particular “horse” had a lot more power and worth.  We briefly argued about me driving.  He won.  I drove home.  I ground the clutch twice.  He winced the second time. The car was sold long ago but the memory from X number of years ago rests in my mind like it was yesterday.   Now he isn’t perfect!!!  He will tell you that. He fails, that’s why he has my mom, Deidra, and myself, we keep him on track. (kidding)  He still takes my mom out on dates after 32 yrs of marriage.  It is his heart and focus on what he loves in life makes him the rose I’d pick amongst those that pale in comparison.  I love you Daddy.

(For those of you wondering: No, the image is not staged.  My mom noticed the extraordinary rose in her garden, sort of like she noticed my dad years and years ago. She has a good eye.)