Ode to Facetime

Oh, how I love thee.

 

That is all.

Bloom

"Bloom where you are planted."

It's almost too cliche for me to even want to say. It is something that would be on a bulletin board in a classroom, or maybe a pep talk for teenage girls.

And yet, there is so much in that statement that I actually like. It speaks to me.

Last week I took this picture while on a walk. From this photo, you'd think there would be a field of flowers with some sort of grand old manor in the background. In reality, these small flowers are in a giant flowerpot tub that serves as a roadblock in the back road of a nursing home facility. These flowers don't get a lot of glory or credit.

If I could personify these bachelor buttons, they would probably prefer to welcome admiring guests into a manicured English garden, or perhaps to bear the honor of being in a bouquet of a beautiful bride; not blocking roads in a back alley of a nursing home (all due respect to nursing homes, by the way). 

This evening as I was quickly scrolling through some of my pictures from that day, I stopped and looked at this picture for a few seconds longer... those blooms: reaching for the sun, full of life, full of vibrancy, full of beauty. 

I'll end with all the metaphors already! I was just thinking how my attitude and response to situations and circumstances will help determine my life projectory. I notice a few things about these flowers: 

1. They are looking up.
2. They get the sunshine and the rain: both make them stronger.
3. Their existence brings joy to other people. 

Whether I am a surprising sunflower seed that started growing and blooming beautifully in the decomposing debris and grain in the back of Neighbor Calvin's old truck bed in Oklahoma (true story!), a lonely heather bush in the highlands of Scotland, or a prim and proper orchid on display in a botanical garden: I have the opportunity to bloom. 

If no one sees me blooming and applauds me beauty and sweet fragrace, will this affect my actions? 

If no one chooses me for the Best Flower Award, will this discourage me from being the best I can be? 

Point being? I want to be like a blooming flower: A blessing to others, without the applause. A beautiful bloom, but without the pride. Strong enough and mature enough to grow during the rainy seasons of life. And most importantly? To keep looking up. 

Wicklow Mountains

This weekend I went to a women's retreat in Co. Wicklow, Ireland. The weekend was a great get-a-away, but was filled to the brim with meetings. I squeezed in a few hikes- how could you not? Ireland's beauty never ceases to amaze me! 

Roots

We didn’t make it very far before we started seeing the damage. There was a tree, a massive one that looked as if it had survived all the decades of political and religious turmoil here in Ireland, now smashed to the ground with it’s roots exposed to the cold winter air. We were driving home from our small group study with our refugee friends at the castle. While in deep discussion, the electricity went out and the winds were blowing with a vicious force, and the driving rain was completely horizontal.

On our drive, the traffic soon came to a complete standstill. There were more trees down, this time blocking the road. The cars were being shaken by the force of the winds, and we turned on the news: “hurricane force winds, roads closed, flying debris, trucks overturned, building’s loosing roofs…” We looked to ditch that separated us from a nearby farm. It was now filled with fast flowing water with white rapids. After the road was cleared we saw more trees, uprooted.

Roots. It was a highlighted word, a common thread in last summer’s training. “Don’t neglect the roots”, the trainer would remind us as we dug deep into the parable of the sower in Matthew 13:1-9. This parable and lesson once again came to my mind as I see the rain and floods destroying the root systems. All it takes is a mighty gust of wind and even the seemingly strongest trees come falling down.

The most important part of our Christian experience is our roots. If our roots are shallow and choked out by the “rocks” and “weeds” in our lives or the soil is lacking in essential nutrients, our spiritual journey will in turn be shallow, and overtaken by the cares of the world and other things that we find more important.

From the outside, some may say we are like tall, strong trees tha are able to withstand even the worst weather.

However, others can’t see the roots- the deep inner part of our lives. Are your roots strong? What are you doing to strengthen them? The latest Irish storm has inspired me to be a strong tree: from the roots up.

Why I Said Farewell to Facebook

1. Time. It's a precious commodity. I want to spend it wisely. 

2. Content. I want to choose what is going into my brain. 

3. Reality. It's easy to put on a facade or seek attention in the alter-reality community of Facebook. I want my world to be focused up and not in. 

It was a difficult thing to do. When you read this please don't feel that you need to press "deactivate" as well. Also, let me remind you that I'm no better than you. Each of the things listed above has been a real struggle. I've become so dependent upon Facebook to be a friend. I want genuine relationships: with my friends, family, and with God. 

Here is to a life of renewed relationships.

Farewell, Facebook.