Only in the Storms

We ask why do we have bad storms, cyclones and hurricanes? Asking God, “don’t you realize that you have people here that get hurt with this?” I saw a television show the other day about manna rays. These amazing sea creatures were spiraling in a giant cloud of the agricultural bits that they enjoy. They said that only in cyclones do these animals gather like this, in giant spirals, in a condition created by the cyclone.



It served as a reminder to me that during the storms, the difficult times, when we are wondering where God is and why this is occurring, that there may be some other purpose, literally under the surfaced that we do not see or understand. With that knowledge, it can bring both a hope and understanding to the difficult times.

A Table, a Ladder, a Staircase

Sitting in the quiet of exam room in the orthopedic doctor’s office yesterday, I entertained myself by reading through bits of the Reminisce magazine. I discovered once again that I don’t sit still well (a different discussion for a different time), and in the magazine - this really cool invention. It was a four slatted wood piece that joined together through a frame work on both sides. The four pieces could be pivoted to form a four level bookcase, a four step step-ladder, or a four board table. I actually paused over the pages, worn and creased from the many hands of the many patients who have looked through it over the last year.

But really - how cool is that? I mean, one minute you have a book case, holding this and that. Friends call and now you need an extra table. Time for a party! Take the things off, and start pivoting the bookcase into a table. But, that cake plate on that high shelf over there is just the thing to hold the super fudgy brownie bars that you plan for dessert, so it becomes a stair step ladder. Then, while the super fudgy brownie bars go in the oven, grab the great tablecloth and decorate the now extra table.

I was thinking how I have to be interchangeable like that in my life. Sometimes, I think I’m a table. People can put things onto me, sharing burdens, tasks, joys, excitement, anguish, and existence in general. A table is well suited to it’s task, holding items. And I can hold these things quite well most of the time, as long as the weight is fairly balanced. Do you remember those old sets of Encyclopedias? Didn’t you love the smell of those, the weight of those thick books in your hands. Let’s say those encyclopedias are all piled at the end of the table and the represent the things shared by others. Without a counter weight at the other end, my table is going to tip! So, if I’m going to be a table, I need to make sure that I maintain a balanced load. I will need to make sure I take care of myself as well as helping and sharing others. That’s not always easy for me to do though. I like to help, to give, to share and at times I have a hard time saying that I’m going to focus on me. In the same thought, it can be reversed and sometimes I need to think of others more. It is a balance that must be striven for.

Sometimes, I think I’m like the stairs. I have the determined mindset in my life that I’m not content to just coast through. People will often talk about cups being half full or half empty, but my cup has been pressed down, shaken, smashed, packed full, crammed full with more swarming more in, and still overflowing. I’ve experienced many blessings, but they never would have happened if I stood forever on the first step. I had to climb to the next. Quite often, I think I must look like a child just learning how to climb stairs because I don’t always do that gracefully. In fact, I can be kind of klutzy. So, there are some scrapes from along the way. There are times when I think that I’m climbing away, can even get a good glimpse of that cake plate (so to speak) and it turns out to be much farther than I thought. But, still, it’s the decision to keep climbing that I’m finding so valuable. It is when I become stuck, numb, or static that I find my vision is skewed and I’ve lost sight of my goal. My vision needs to be focused.

I love books. I have books that are like old friends. I have read through the words on their pages many times, and the cover has softened with use. A few have accidentally been dunked in the bath tub, others have corners missing from puppy teething. But, on the bookcases that contain these printed lineages of thought, I think that sometimes I’m like that as well. The bookcases don’t read the information, they hold it. Sometimes, I hold information and keep it to myself. A large part of that would just be my normal private thoughts and conversations, internal and safely inside my own brain. Another part would be lessons learned. Lessons perhaps from the time of being a table or a step ladder, the action of change, or successes and failures along the way. I learn, observe, and keep it for when I need the information later. Bookcases can be so handy for keeping the important things handy. You may not need them every moment of every day, but it is good to know where to find them when you are ready.

The structure itself is very important to consider. To allow these boards movement and yet stability would require strength and equilibrium. When I need to change my focus, my shelf self into a table or step ladder, I need a strong focal point as well. One that is well cared for and flexible. It is what is at my core that I need to carefully examine and keep in excellent condition or my stairs will wobble, the table will be slanted, and the book shelf might start leaning.

I don’t know exactly what that manufacturer had in mind when developing a tri-functioning product. I wonder if the thought was ever had, beyond the mechanical duties and structure of these objects. Each function had to be understood before a solid construction could be created. Thankfully, I also have a creator who fully understands and enables me to carry out multiple functions.

Ribbons of Rhythm

This last Wednesday, I was flying back to the US from Ottawa, Canada. Leaning to my left, I look through the thick glassy like substance of the airplane window out onto Lake Michigan. The water is reflecting the shine of the sun, the ripples in the lake move like invisible ribbons catching the very lip of the water. A swirl forms, moving out, the winding back, to and fro, back and forth over and over again.

Leaning against that stubbly tubular plastic of the airplane, I can feel the memory sink again. Standing in a music room hallway, composed of soundproofing and dark grey carpet, an aging rocker was telling me how all of life can be seen with rhythms and patterns. I remember the ability of this musician; he had a way to understand rhythm in music, the patterns of percussion. But, he also understood that beyond the composition and score of a symphony, the skilled pounding on a drum set, the smoothness of a marimba, life the very world is composed of patterns and rhythms. Some we see easily such as the tides, embracing the shore and then pushing away at expected times. Others require more thought to observe, the structure of a leaf, the way a dog’s fur coat falls into a certain pattern, the swirl of color from a hummingbird, even the internal rhythm of our heart.

There are other less palpable patterns which I can’t see, but instead feel the ribbon swirl around me, pulling me along. It is the rhythm of life, growth and failure, rising and falling, hurting and healing, loving and hating, remember and forget. The thing about the rhythms in my own life is that I can often not see the beribboned pattern until after I am caught up in the eddy. Instead, I seek a center, a buoy which will hold fast to the center and keep me on a concentrated nucleus. Then, the patterns and rhythms, they move around the fixed point, keeping me steady.

I am wondering what the next swirl of the rhythm will hold. As one part ended, another must begin. What that will look like, where it will lead – I don’t know. But, I do know that the crux of the rhythm is something I have already found my stability in.