A New Set of Eyes

I've often thought I could use a sense upgrade. A new set of eyes, a better sense of smell. I usually think it metaphorically.

It's when I suddenly look at the world around me with a better appreciation for what it has to offer. The blackness of bare branches against a bright blue winter sky. The overwhelming scent of honeysuckle on a June evening. The soft shush of the creek that runs behind our house.

I think to myself: Why don't I notice this every day and revel in it?

But, for some of us, habitual glasses and contact-wearers, we really could use a new set of eyes--say, one with a slightly different curvature of the cornea.

It's really that simple. A flatter or steeper cornea is really all most of need to say goodbye to glasses.

More than 10 years ago, I worked for a small PR agency. Though it was the most harrowing seven months of my professional career (due to two control-freak/schizophrenic boss-owners), one good thing came out of it. I got an insider's view of laser vision correction surgery.

One of my clients was an ophthalmology group, and a key part of their practice was laser vision correction. I got to hear all the pros and cons of the procedure (though there really weren't many cons), and I got to sit in on focus groups with people who had gone through PRK or LASIK surgeries. The feedback was overwhelmingly positive-- it was life-changing, they said.

Then and there, I made myself a little promise: This is something I will do for myself one day.

That day came three Fridays ago--January 21, 2011.

I still keep thinking I need to reach for my glasses at night, or take out my contacts. A glasses-wearer since I was five, and a contact-wearer since ten, it's going to be a hard habit to break.

But, I think I can live with that...

The miracle of the surgery isn't that your vision is necessarily any different or better, but... it is always there.

And, it's not just there through a layer of glass or thin contact polymer.

It's kind of like our vision as corrected by God. When we're tuned into God and His plan for our life, we see things differently. Sure, our world is often the same about us, but an extra layer of care and concern and hassle is removed. We see obstacles as challenges and accept them gracefully. we view every day tasks as a blessing.

That's a heavenly kind of vision correction I could really get used to!

The eye is the lamp of the body. If your eyes are good, your whole body will be full of light.

Matthew 6:22

Dear Lord: I thank You for the marvelous blessing of my new physical eyesight, but I also pray that You will continue to remind me of the importance of my interior eye. Help sculpt and train my spiritual eyesight, so that my soul will be filled with Your radiance and light. Amen.

Stop. Smell. Roses.

I resolve to be present. I resolve to live more in the moment.

Another word for this is mindfulness.

It's actually a key Buddhist principle, but I was first introduced to the concept by a nun.

Sister Donna was a feisty nun who taught basket weaving at a convent just north of downtown Pittsburgh. (Actually, she's probably there, though it's been close to 10 years since I took her class).

One night as I was botching my weaving, Sister Donna shared with us a little pamphlet on mindfulness. I was intrigued.

You're brushing your teeth, it explained. When was the last time you remember feeling the bristles in your mouth or the precise mint taste of your toothpaste? When was the last time you used all five senses to fully experience a moment?

Well, heck if I knew. But, it sounded like a good idea.

Life moves on, as it always does, and three kids and many responsibilities later, mindfulness has become that much more important.

And that much harder to achieve.

Mindfulness in the Buddhist tradition is described as a calm awareness of one's body functions and feelings--a sort of meditation prerequisite. Evidently, mindfulness also has many therapeutic applications in Western psychology...accepting things as they are and living now, without carrying the baggage of the past, or worrying about the future.

Makes sense.

But, Buddhism and counseling aside, what's God's take?

In my quiet times with God, when everyday concerns creep in and distract, He tells me to lift my eyes to higher things, to focus on this moment with Him.

In my daily life when all I can do is stare blindly down at the path to be trod in front of me, He tells me to lift my eyes and look around me. How much I miss when my gaze is trained on pavement, rather than the trees, sky, and the wonders of the wide world He created.

Look up, He counsels gently, look around you. Treasure what you have.

Lift up your eyes and look to the heavens: Who created all these? He who brings out the starry host one by one and calls forth each of them by name. Because of his great power and mighty strength, not one of them is missing.

Isaiah 40:26

 

Photo Credit

Living in the Moment

 

Photo, Elizabeth May, Copyright 2011

We're eleven days deep into January.

If I had to guess, I'd say most people are in one of three camps when it comes to New Year's Resolutions. They're either: a. working mightily to stick to their goals, b. thinking they should probably get going on those resolutions, but already they can't quite remember what they were, or c. aren't thinking about resolutions at all, because they just didn't bother.

For me, it's "D, None of the Above" this year. I fully intend to resolve some things, um, some really important things.

You may say it's a little late, but in my book, 2011 is young, a mere newborn babe.

So, here I go:

1. I resolve to seek God daily.
2. I resolve to be present.
3. I resolve to get moving.

Number one is self-explanatory, but, nonetheless, essential.

Number two refers to my problem of letting the minuate of life exert its tyranny over me on a daily basis. Sometimes it seems like I can think of little else than a running to-do list.

I'm tired of walking around with a chant of clean-bathrooms-renew-library-books-get-to-karate-on-time-plan-dinner like some kind of fanatic domestic monk.

So I resolve to be present here, now, in this moment. To truly savor my family, nature, everything--more.

And, last, I resolve to make time to be active again. Taking walks, jogging, commiting to a workout class. Doing something that's both healthy and renewing for me.

God, I struggle mightily to do it all on my own. To keep the dishes at bay, the fridge stocked, the mail and paperwork sorted, the laundry folded, the bathrooms cleaned. And, all this with a constant stream of little voices expressing ongoing needs, questions, and demands. Help me to learn that a clean, organized, cozy home--while desirable--shouldn't be pursued above all else. Teach me that caring for my family's emotional and spiritual needs means more. Allow me to slow down and do more by doing less. Help me to give of myself and my time willingly. Amen.

Waiting for God

 

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Waiting is not a very popular attitude. Waiting is not something that people think about with great sympathy. In fact, most people consider waiting a waste of time. ... For many people, waiting is an awful desert between where they are and where they want to go. And people do not like such a place. They want to get out of it by doing something.

Henri Nouwen

In preparation for the Advent season this year, before all the craziness I talked about in my last post hit us, I purchased two devotionals. The first, Let Every Heart, I'm using with my girls. It's an older book, and it can be purchased used nice and cheap from Amazon (which is what I did)! To be honest, though it's billed as a family devotional, it would be better for pre-teens and teens, in terms of the level of the writing.

However, we enjoy the hymns that precede each devotional, and the singing helps prepare our hearts for the message to come. The devotions themselves are short and include questions for discussion at the end, as well as a little ending prayer. This devotional is good for me on days when I'm short on time, because it doesn't take long to read. I just find myself paraphrasing as I go for my girls, 5 and 7. (The 5-year-old has a short attention span and doesn't seem to be getting much out of it, but the 7-year-old is listening.)

I'm sure there are better kid Advent devotionals out there, but for us, this is the first time we have been more intentional about devotions and Advent. So, it's more about the exercise itself that is important to our family.

For myself, I bought Watch for the Light, which is a collection of Advent and Christmas readings, including pieces by C.S. Lewis, Annie Dilliard, Thomas Merton, and more.  (There's even a Sylvia Plath poem.) These are meatier readings, worthy of more time and thought. I have only read about three or four so far. One was too stuffy and didactic, but the others I've really enjoyed. I like the scholarly feeling of this book.

I really loved Henri Nouwen's piece, "Waiting for God" (also the title of this post) and the source of the beginning quote). I like how it gets me thinking. I'm not a waiter; I'm a doer. I'm terribly impatient.

But, God asks us to wait.

Consider Nouwen's insights on purposeful waiting. He explains how, in the beginning of the gospel of Luke, we see Mary and Elizabeth, waiting. But, this is no ordinary waiting; they are waiting with a sense of promise. Of course, they are both with child, but their situation teaches us that if we believe we have the seed of promise within us, we are ready for waiting, God-style.

"We can only really wait if what we we are waiting for has already begun for us. So waiting is never a movement from nothing to something. It is always a movement from something to something more," says Nouwen.

Nouwen also teaches us the benefits of what he terms "active waiting." He says it's all about being present in the moment. That's a lesson worth learning for an impatient doer like me, often distracted with tasks and lists of "what's next" scrolling through my brain.

"Active waiting means ... the conviction that something is happening where you are and that you want to be present to it. A waiting person is someone who is present to the moment, who believes that this moment is the moment."

Dear Lord: During this season of Advent, of preparing for the day we celebrate your birth, teach us how to wait. Help us learn that you have planted the seed of promise within each and every one of us, if only we believe. Help us learn to have faith that you can do something miraculous through us, if only we wait patiently. Embue us with a sense of  hope and purpose that allows us to do this important work of waiting, while still being present to the moment. Amen.

Keeping it Simple for the Holidays

 

Photo Credit: Beth May, Copyright 2010

I'm a bit of a type A personality. If I'm doing something, I'm doing it all the way. No in-between for me. You can imagine what the holidays are like in our family. We go out to the tree farm and hand cut our tree; we have a tree decorating party that night with fancy drinks and fruit trays and hors d oeuvres (this is just for the five of us); we decorate inside and out; we bake multiple kinds of cookies; we wrap each gift ourselves; we make sure our Christmas cards are out the first week of the month; we listen to Christmas music; we DVR every Christmas movie we don't already own; we go into the city for special holiday activities (this year it was touring a historic mansion, but we've done ice skating downtown, carriage rides, candelit visits to the area's conservatory).

I love all of it. It doesn't feel like too much--well, not usually.

But, this year God is telling me something. He started out with Thanksgiving. We were all so sick with the stomach flu we had to postpone the holiday until Friday. It was nice, but not quite the same. My mom was still feeling badly when we left Ohio. We just assumed it was the virus. At the same time, back in Pittsburgh, my father in law had spent Thanksgiving in the hospital.

Over the past few weeks, my mom has not gotten better, but has undergone multiple tests and doctor visits. For the first time ever, she doesn't have any Christmas decorations up yet. (And, in case you were wondering, she's the one who cultivated in me my love for all things Christmas by setting the perfect example.) She suffers from multiple health issues, and it's hard for anyone--doctors included--to quickly pinpoint what exactly is wrong at a given time and come up with a quick course of treatment, but we are all optimistic that she'll get this flare or attack or event under control soon. We're saying lots of prayers.

My father in law ended up having surgery a little over a week ago. He's hanging in there. The surgery was necessary, and hopefully will get his condition under control, once he heals, but it will be a process. He's still in a lot of pain. We are saying many prayers.

We're also working through some other issues within our family--and we're just at the beginning of a long road to change. If you can imagine, it has been a serious November/December. My husband and I take refuge in the joy our kids bring, and we've been keeping up with the demands of everyday life, as we all must do, even in the face of sadness, or change, or even tragedy.

But, these things take their toll, and I've been feeling a bit down (which I hear is quite normal during the holidays; it's just never been the case for me before). You might think I'm leading up to say that I'm down because the events swirling around our families have conspired to put me behind in my holiday merry-making, but, somehow, they haven't. The house is decorated fully; the cards out; the carols and movies cranked full volume; the cookies begun.

But the price? No personal devotions, no blog posts (pretty silly that a Christian-themed blog has been silent during the first three Sundays in Advent), no down time.

As usual, my best friend and husband have to swoop in to remind me: Do you NEED to do this, or that, or that? Can't you simplify? Get help. Take a break. So I'm quieting down, calming down--asking myself with each little thing I pick up--do I really need to do this? Usually the answer is No. It's hard for the perfectionist in me. Really hard.

Ironically, I'm trying to slow down and be more thoughtful during the busiest time of the year. I have two different Advent devotionals that I'll talk about in my next post that are helping me. They're teaching me about waiting--a most appropriate attitude for Advent. Waiting for family members' health to improve, waiting for God's resolution to some weighty problems, waiting for the day we can rejoice in our Savior's birth--no matter what happens with our earthly concerns.

Thinking of Thankfulness

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In a month that we often find ourselves thinking of thankfulness, I've been thinking about un-thankfulness too. Putting a spotlight on thankfulness has shown me the flaws that often lurk in the dark corners of my heart. Selfishness. Discontent. Jealousy.

I typically put Bible verses at the end of my posts, but this scripture really hit home, so I'd like to put it front and center:

"Although they knew God, they did not glorify Him as God, nor were thankful but became futile in their thoughts, and their foolish hearts were darkened." 

Romans 1:21, NKJV

Oh, God, how you know me!  

I believe in God, but all too often I do not glorify Him as I ought. And, that's when it happens. I become selfish, negative, sharp with my kids and husband, and envious of others.

Or, as the verse more eloquently puts it: I become futile in my thoughts, and my foolish heart is darkened.

Thanksgiving day is almost here, and while it may be all too easy for us--flawed humans that we are--to get wrapped up in the stress of preparing a big meal, traveling, or thinking ahead to Christmas to-dos, we need to know God.

To remember God in the midst of it all. To seek Him without ceasing. Now more than ever.

Dear Lord: Please shine your light into our hearts, souls, and minds. Illuminate our flaws so we may see them and learn to live better. Bless us and our families with a safe, nourishing, and joyful Thanksgiving.

Finding Beauty in Unlikely Places

 

All Photos Copyright Elizabeth May, 2010

My last post talked about November, a quiet, little, modest month that often seems to get lost in the mad shuffle from Halloween straight to Christmas.

I also talked about simple joys, like a winter's walk, and how keen observation rewards its viewer. I thought I'd share a few images from just such a stroll. 

While my husband and I were blessed with sun and a vibrant blue sky when we took this walk in late 2009 at my parents' Ohio farm, the landscape didn't look like it would yield much in terms of visual interest. I took along my new camera anyway, and was rewarded richly.

 

Can't our spiritual relationships often be like a winter's walk? Giving forth surprising treasures when we take some quiet moments to delve into our Bible or pray?

God teaches us that beauty can be found anywhere, if only we take the time to look deeper.

 

Out in nature, my mind takes a deep breath and forgets the trappings and noise of our modern world. When it's just me (and my dogs!) out on a walk in the woods, there's only the crunch of my boots and the rustle of leaves...blessed, utter calm...

... and God. Not surprisingly, it's blessedly easy to connect with our Creator in the midst of the natural world.

Looking heavenward--both figuratively, and literally--rewards me with a new view. If only I'd look up more often...

 

At the end of my walk, I'm refreshed, inspired, soothed by the beauty of God's creation. I've learned that He provides even in these increasingly cold, dark days. 

"Each moment of the year has its own beauty." 

Ralph Waldo Emerson

Dear Lord: It's easy to get stressed this time of year, to get caught up in our holiday to-do lists. It's just as easy to feel a little down, as we deal with colder temps, shorter days, less sunlight. Help us as we adjust to this new season. Comfort us with your light and beauty in the midst of the cold and dark. Give us wisdom to take our to-do's one thing at a time and surrender our worries to you. Help us to see with new eyes and find beauty everywhere--even where we least expect it. Amen.