Saturday, August 22, 2009

Traveling Into Tomorrow

The Little League World Series is on in the family room. Normally, trying to write while the television is on simply "kills my mojo." Tonight though, it is actually my inspiration -- well, the game is, anyway.

About five years ago, "the roadtrip bug" was creeping its way into my every thought. Road trips have always been our preferred method of escape. As another school year was encroaching on our lazy August afternoons, and my denial had become no match for the uncertainty and pressure of a failing marriage, escape was an inviting option.

I checked out some destinations far enough away to "get away" but close enough to cover in a long weekend on a small budget. I decided on the Pennsylvania Grand Canyon. Horseback riding, canoeing, and a scenic train ride were all within a few miles of an inexpensive, clean little lodge in the "middle of town." Perfect.

As we drove, anticipating the nuances that come with travelling to a new location, we talked excitedly about the things around us. We wondered where those riding in the lanes next to us were headed. We pointed out cloud shapes and the patchwork colors of rolling hills of farmland. We looked for deer and fox, marvelled at "painted" bands cut into the rock that towered above us along the road, and drew in the fresh clean smells of the country. Of course, even my children knew, our road trip would not have been complete without a stop at Starbucks on the turnpike, or a nostalgic meal at the Red Rabbit Drive-In on Route 22 in Duncannon, PA.

Now personally, I have learned more about baseball in the past three years then I had ever wished to know in my life. Joe is a fount of baseball information. I am amazed by his diligence and commitment to the game and its players; he spouts off statistics from years before he was born and maintains surveillance on the Phillies like an AC pit boss. However, at the time of our Grand Canyon roadtrip, I had not had the pleasure of dating my future husband or meeting my future stepson. So, as we began to drive toward Williamsport, I was oblivious to the town's significance, particularly in the last days of August. Traffic had started to form, and I thought there had been some sort of accident or emergency. I noticed the area was abuzz with what seemed to be a majority of families, and businesses were -- well, very busy; I imagined a county fair or fireworks. "Best to wait this out," I thought. The sun was just beginning to set, so we pulled to the side of the road to look out over the mountains and hills, watching the colors emerge and slowly sink back out of sight. As darkness crept over the heavens, the sky around Williamsport began to glow with the 1000 watt lamps of ambition. Back in the truck again, we passed the first sign welcoming little leaguers, and I suddenly realized the local radio station we'd been listening to was hyping up its listeners for the big game, The Little League World Series.

We moved on that day; we had our destination as did those players and their families. But, each August when the news turns to the series I can't help but remember those fleeting days, as summer was bidding farewell, and even its warm breeze seemed to carry within it the golds and saffrons of fall. When I stood by the roadside, with the dusty greens and characterless browns of unspoiled acres fading into the darkness of night. Watching the day, watching the summer, and maybe even an entire period of our lives come to a close. Not knowing exactly what was up ahead, in a new day, a new season, but knowing that it was there and as we moved toward it, it was ours to capture and steward.

Sunday, August 16, 2009

Are We Passing Muster?

I am at a loss here, today. Not because I have no ideas but, as usual, have too many ideas. I could tell you about the four pounds of London broil missing from my kitchen counter after Bishop's first foray into "guarding the fort" while we all ran quickly to the grocery store. I could tell you how angry I am about some of the nonsense in political media these last few days. I could even tell you about the ridiculous discussion going on upstairs right now, regarding the girls switching rooms. But none of those things seem to suit.

When I began this blog, I prayed for God's leading. Almost every (and I wish I could say "Every") time I sit to write, I pray for His direction; I pray that my words are His words. I even have a word of counsel taped to my computer monitor, advising me to bring every issue before the Lord; examine every relationship, business decision, even each purchase, in light of God's directions and precepts. I'm not big on Post-Its or clutter, pictures or cutesy little slips of Chinese fortune plastering otherwise vast expanses of nothingness on the faces of my equipment or appliances. So, for me to post this caveat was big; it "spoke" to me. And yet, I still forget who this is about.

It's most certainly not about me. But neither is it about my family, or our dogs, or crazy experiences at the checkout, or even the Right or the Left. It is about the Author and Finisher of our faith (Hebrews 12:2). It is about the Alpha and the Omega (Revelation 22:13). It is about the One Who has us engraved in the palm of His hand (Isaiah 49:16) and has a plan for each of us (Jeremiah 29:11) if we are only willing to seek His face and listen to His direction. It is about the Trinity: the One True God, His precious Son, Jesus, and the Spirit of God, sent to counsel, guide and help us until Christ's return.

So, I will save these ideas bobbing around in my head, for another day. But for right now, leave us with the question, "Who is it about in my life?" Who do we seek to please? Who's standards do we seek to meet? Start with me today and make it about Him.