Pushing Through

 

  Overcoming obstacles is largely a mindset.

  The other night brought howling winds.  I hadn't gotten my walk in that day and I was determined to keep the schedule I had going.  Add to that, the text from my accountability partner telling me to get out in that stinkin weather.  She had run seven miles facing 50 mph winds.  How could I not walk my two measly miles?

  Dusk was due pretty soon after the motivating text came in so I needed to move it.  I sought the child most susceptible to pitying their mother walking alone in inclement weather.  Thank you dear sixth grade son:)  By the time we got to the Peninsula the winds were whipping the waves into a choppy soup threatening to splash if we got too near.  It was necessary to divert my son's growing apprehension in facing the creaking, thrashing limbs of trees lining the path. I tried to talk him into looking horizontally instead of vertically at the overhanging frenzied branches.

 Not even half way to our turn around mark, my son was reaching high-anxiety levels, complete with screaming over the wind, pleading, glistening eyes squeezed in fright, and hands locked over his ears.  "C'mon, we're almost there!," came my return plea.  "I want to go home!  Don't you hear how dangerous this is?," he shouted right before a branch landed behind us with a loud CRACK!  For the first time since I began walking this summer I began to add interval sprints.  "Hey", I panted during the recovery phase, "courage doesn't mean you're not afraid.  It means you feel the fear but do it anyway."  I don't know what reserve of strength kept my son moving forward in the darkening night as the wind screamed, branches yelled menacing threats, and dried leaves accompanied the desolation with their scratchy skittering for cover across the paved paths.  Our backdrop of the rolling water leapt into 3-D focus with intermittent sprays adding to the surreal evening that seemed to intensify in danger the further we went.  We continued on at a quickened pace while I yelled to myself as much as to my frightened boy, "Don't miss the beauty!"  Though justified in our wary state, it would have been a shame to miss the crescent moon taking center stage in the stormy sky.

  We did it!  We made it to the half way mark...now to get back.

  We were face to face with an onslaught of the wind's full force pushing back against our efforts.  My son's arms were aching from his effort to hold them against his ears the entire way.  He resisted my earmuffs and gave me a scathing look at the offer of my fluorescent pink scarf.  My legs were feeling the burn from unfamiliar exertion.  Our clothes billowed out as we held onto one another during the frequent burst of upscaled gales.  Anxious to be out of harms way, my son said, "C'mon Mom, let's run through this next part!"  I knew he wanted to quickly get through the tunnel of trees lining both sides of the next hundred yards.  We had already been stepping over downed limbs.  I felt the leaden weight in my legs and knew I had reached exhaustion..."I can't.  I just don't think I can do it."  Clearly, I had made an error of judgement in pressing on- but we had no choice but to get ourselves back to the car.  We had three quarter mile to trod and we would have to fight for every step.

  That was the moment I realized how brazenly I had encouraged my son about courage as I kept on in the face of his keen terror.  He had kept going...I figured he'd be proud of himself for overcoming his fear.  I hadn't  the extreme mental mountains he was climbing to get over that hurdle.  I truly believed we'd be fine- I had walked this trail in a downpour before though my son had not.  My son is a lean and lanky, natural runner...though I am not.  I looked at the path ahead and made the decision to push my legs and lungs hard!  If I could ask my son to keep going, in what appeared to be a death-defying situation from his perspective, then I better darn well give his request the same respect and push through my perspective which insisted I simply could not.

  I gained insight as we rounded the bend to the safe comfort of our car.  It's easy to ask others to keep going in the face of their struggle when we know the outcome.  It's easier yet if they are our children and we have authority that can demand it.  It would be very good for our appreciation of what we are asking of them if we but walk, or run, in their shoes every now and then.

Bags packed and ready to go!!...Are you sure?

  A renowned wise old man needed help delivering an important package to a nearby village. A young man, eager to find favor with one so wise, readily offered his service.  He was so excited to do the bidding of the wise man that he left with an empty backpack before giving the wise man a chance to pack it.

  Realizing his error and fearful of being chastised for his haste, he decided to fill the pack with useful and beautiful items he found along his way.  ""Perhaps he will praise my ingenuity and careful choices," he thought.  First, he picked a bouquet of exquisite, delicate blossoms which bloomed high on a hillside.  He reasoned their difficulty to posses gave them value sure to be appreciated.  Next, he gathered nuts that had fallen from a tree onto a soft, shaded piece of land- certain their innards were fully intact and were therefore fresh and nutritious.  Finally, he was ecstatic to find a perfect golden nugget tucked beneath a rock in the stream.  Quite satisfied with his array of gifts and confident that the wise man would praise his finds, he hurried to the town to bestow his choice bounty upon the needy.
  His arrival was greeted by a bent over, old woman whose gap-toothed smile expressed her excitement and anticipation of the package he was to deliver.  The young man triumphantly held up his backpack with an air of importance and began to withdraw the items one by one.  The woman's smile faded to a look of confusion and mistrust.  "Are you sure this was sent by the wise man from the next town over?" she hesitantly asked.  The young man adamantly pointed to the flowers and described the sheer height he ad been conquered to pick them. He gestured to the fine array of nuts that had been gathered and vowed they were of the finest quality for miles around.  His final attempt to convince this seemingly ungrateful woman was to display the golden nugget in such a way as to let the sun glint off the precious mineral and dazzle the woman into being impressed.  Surely messages of admiration and immense gratitude would filter back to the wise man and thereby reveal his own cleverness.
  By now, the woman's smile had been replaced by an air of disappointment, but she nonetheless motioned for the young man to follow her so that he could deliver the package to the townsman for whom it had been intended.  Slowly following the woman's hobbled gait he finally reached the door of a pitifully small, decrepit dwelling.  His chest puffed with pride as he envisioned the gratitude from these poor people.  He fully intended to let the wise man have all credit believing his own reward would be the sage's praise for representing him with such beauty and riches.  The woman opened the door, revealing a dank and dark single room with a bed in the center.  As the young man's eyes adjusted to the darkness he noticed the  form a frail man lying in the bed lifting a withered hand to beckon his visitor closer.  "Sir," the old woman addressed the young man, "please bend to my husband's ear for he is blind and can not see."  Then she spoke loudly to her husband to describe the blossoms his eyes would never see, the nuts that his long ago lost teeth would never crunch as he could only take in liquid these days.  She held the gold that had excited the young man with it's promise of status and wealth against her husband's gnarled fingers while she feebly described it as a yellow rock hoping her husband would find some joy or understanding in these odd gifts selected by the wise man.  The dying old man drew in, what was evidently, one of his last few breaths in order to acknowledge the gifts his wife had valiantly tried to describe with enthusiasm.
   The old woman bid their guest goodbye with a sad smile as her husband labored to breathe behind her.
 
  The young man journeyed home and his thoughts were a jumble of confusion.  Feeling he had failed his mission miserably he sought the wise man upon his return.  "Please," he implored the wise man, "tell me what you would have sent to this man who could neither see nor eat.  What could have made a difference to this couple?  Was the package supposed to be medicine or perhaps money for a new house?  Why were they disappointed with what I provided? Please, I must know."   The wise man slowly reached into his pocket and held out a simple piece of paper upon which these words were written:

  "Peace is coming- don't lose hope.  You shall be in Paradise soon.  You shall have no more tears, no more pain. You are not alone and you are loved very much."

  The young man thought back to his time with the dying man and his crippled wife and was flooded with embarrassment as he realized how utterly useless his choice of gifts had been.  He was saddened to think he had robbed this needy couple of the comfort they surely desired and would have found is those wise words during their most difficult hour.

  At a loss for words of his own, the young man, who had sought to impress the wise man with his own brand of wisdom, realized his folly... he had chosen gifts to be given in another's name based on his own  perspective and priorities. 

Lord, help us to seek You in the beginning of each new day so that we can receive all You have intended for this day's journey (GIVE US THIS DAY OUR DAILY BREAD).  May we humbly seek Your wisdom so we may honestly offer Your gifts instead of our beliefs of what is needed. Dear Creator, You made all- You know all!  Help us to trust Your choice of people we encounter, hardships we are to endure, gifts we are to share.  Thank you for allowing us to be your hands and feet.  Give us courage and strength for our daily journey~ to go where You know souls await hope. ~Amen+ 

Never too late for THANKS!

 Ah yes, Thanksgiving...  It was a beautiful day~  Sunny, with a hint of warmth.  I had such high hopes for the beautiful day that would enfold.  I even helped my five year old son fall asleep the nights leading up to this big day by telling him stories of what Thanksgiving would be like.  "Oooooh, the sky is still dark and Mama is sitting in the dim light in her robe with a pot of hot water boiling for hot chocolate,"  I had whispered to his closing eyelids.  At the mention of hot chocolate his eyes pop wide open and a huge grin appears.  "Then you walk softly down the steps and crawl into my lap," I tell him, "and we are the only two awake in the house.  We bake cinnamon rolls as the sun starts to come up and we giggle while we wait for the parade to start on t.v."


  Yes, that was a beautiful dream... Not a single bit of it came true but it was a lovely thought.  In reality, we all stayed up late the night before and I didn't have any hope of waking before the sun did.  However, my eleven year old son woke about 6:30 a.m and banged his way around the kitchen to make my husband and I breakfast in bed (another wonderful idea!).  As he delivered our eggs and coffee he announced, "See Mom!  I told you I'd wake you up early!"  The day then took off at an alarming rate as the other five woke up on the wrong side of the bed.  I did remember to thank God that our 14 year old "hormonal tornado" had spent the night at a friends as his siblings kicked, yelled, cried, and grouched for the next two hours.  My husband croaked out that he was feeling horrible so it was on me to bring morale back to the troops.  Unfortunately, it's difficult to inspire others when your own crushed "cinnamon roll dreams" are laying in a tattered heap.


  Fresh air can bring about a total change in perspective!  I announced I was taking a walk and invited the whole surly crew to join me.  Two took me up on it...  Sure, I secretly craved alone time while I walked around our little triangle of a yard but I also know the endorphins could do my kids a world of good.  I'm sure chaos was still brewing and erupting inside as we lapped the yard (1 lap = 1/4 mile).  I began to process my bedtime story turned nightmare.  I'll be honest, I even despaired about what to write to inspire others to be thankful.  And then I remembered when I had called our parish priest a few years ago to wail, "Father, everything is going wrong in our lives!!"  I had a very legitimate list of complaints and had expected sympathy and a plan of action.  His first words to me brought me up short.  "First off Susan, not EVERYTHING, is wrong in your life.  Is your health gone?  Did your house burn down? Are your children still with you and well?"  He continued by telling me it's a deception to focus on all the things that are going bad because it takes our attention away from what is right.  "Susan,"  Fr. Larry said, "It's so important to start listing- OUT LOUD- the blessings in your life."  Never forget to focus on what is GOOD in your life was the message I got loud and clear.


  As I lapped my triangle I sifted through that conversation and started my new list.  The two children that went with me had trailed off to run and play with the neighbors dog and pogo stick ;)  The fresh air cleared more than their bad mood.  I was thankful for my new perspective.  I was thankful that the day wouldn't remain in the valley of fighting.  I was thankful for the TWO Thanksgiving feasts we'd be sharing with both sides of the family.  I was Thankful that we have such a large family (both immediate and extended). 


AND... I was thankful that I remembered to be THANKFUL!

Eyes Opened...

A man and his children were riding the public bus home one evening. The man appeared oblivious to his children's "over the top" misbehavior. A nearby passenger began clearing her throat to bring attention to his children as they ran wildly through the aisles. Her indignant sniffs became louder as they hollered and jumped over the seats. She was shocked and displeased with his lack of applied discipline to this unruly crew. Still, the man stared into nothing seemingly lost in his own thoughts. Finally,her patience worn thin she demanded, "won't you please get your children under control?" The man seemed to snap back to the reality of his surroundings. He quickly apologized for his children disturbing this woman. "You see," he tried explaining, "they are probably trying to get a little energy out. We've been at the hospital all day where their mother has just died. I will have them quiet down."

** I had heard this story (I believe true) years ago and have repeated it several times. The shock value comes in at the end when the justified irritation and self righteous anger at an apparent lack of parenting suddenly transforms into a horrible lack of compassion and passing judgement.

Just this past Friday my own children were exhibiting a lack of control as they fought among themselves. My eldest, a teenager, was working himself into a fury as he physically threatened his younger brother, told his sisters to "shut up," and even hurled insults my way. My response was just as shameful as I vented my utter frustration at him in the form of name calling and grounded him for a week...or maybe it was a month...(I was pretty upset). I was beside myself as I ordered everyone in and buckled. I slammed van doors while loudly reprimanding the lot of them especially my teen son. Once I was in the drivers seat , and backing up, I braked and demanded to know who's door was open... the lights were still on. A few seconds later I uttered, "oh." and sheepishly walked around to shut the rear doors I forgot I had opened while venting. I chose to ignore my children's giggling commentary filtering around me "then mom yelled who left the doors open... and then she was like, oh."

I drove in silence until I realized my eldest, in the passenger seat beside me, was still was not buckled. We were no longer yelling...or talking. "Please put your seat belt on." A minute later I repeated, "please put your seat belt on." I touched his arm and asked "what is going on with you?" Silence with a glare. I looked over at him and fearing the worst I asked, "why are your eyes all red and glossy?!?," allowing the accusation to seep into my voice. "Because I was crying Mom." What?!? That was unexpected. "Why?" "Because my friend just died an hour and a half ago!" Tears began to stream down his cheeks. I was in shock. I couldn't remember the last time I had seen my big boy cry. Slowly he filled me in on his classmate who had been life flighted after being overcome by Carbon Monoxide. I gasped when I recognized this as the boy I had been following on the news. A true tragedy.

I began to think back to the hug my son had tried to give me as I was hustling everyone out the door and barking orders. I reached over and squeezed his arm and told him, "I am so very sorry." It became clear to me that I was the self righteous woman on the bus...judging my son harshly (easy to do with a teen temper). Wrapped up in his horrible show of anger I became oblivious as to WHY he was so angry.

Compassion is a lesson that comes in a difficult tutorial... It takes giving up a sense of comfort to discover the source of what appears unappealing. Applying the balm of compassion may be as simple as cutting someone a little slack or even just listening. Either way, this is probably a lesson that will be repeated throughout life. I'm certain I have BEEN the occasional TEST for lifes' unsuspecting traveler as well...