The Second Half on - Letting your Life Count

I finished the book a while back but wanted to say that I found the latter part to be a bit more challenging and, maybe because of that, more real. In a few words, living a life that counts can be compared to running a marathon. I probably have never run a mile, let alone a marathon . . . so who am I to talk? But I can see the good advice in this challenge . . . advice about running with perseverance while throwing off hindrances . . . and not worrying about tomorrow, rather realizing that today is the day that counts. In all of this, seeing the big picture yet, taking one step at a time toward the goal.

Three related points for me to remember in the race I find myself in:

(1) My coach knows my weakness and knows what I can handle. He won’t put me in a race I can’t run. I remember when, after two weeks of driver training, my instructor informed me he was booking my appointment for the test. I was sure he did not know how unprepared I was! But in the end, he knew I needed the push and he knew what he was doing. I passed.

(2) Pride comes before a fall. If I think I’m doing well and begin to look around, I’ll be in trouble.

(3) If I’m not facing hindrances, is it possible that I’m not even in the race? Why else would the writer of Hebrews talk about running with perseverance . . . unless the race has challenges and obstacles?

An accomplished triathlete once shared the secret of his success by admitting that he can’t think about swimming the miles, but swimming to the next buoy is possible. You will reach the end of the long race by running the short ones or being faithful in the little things.

Therefore . . . let us throw off everything that hinders and the sin that so easily entangles, and let us run with perseverance the race marked out for us. Let us fix our eyes on Jesus, the author and finisher of our faith . . . Hebrews 12: 1-2

Picnic on the Landing Zone

Last Sunday afternoon Chris headed out to the paragliding launch on a ridge high above Bridal Falls. I have learned that Chris has loved anything to do with flying since he was small. In fact, he was only about eight years old when he read Jungle Pilot, which inspired him to pursue his present career.

So . . . back to Sunday . . . we packed a picnic supper and drove out to the Bridal landing zone. It was a perfect day for gliding! We spread out our Mexican blanket on the edge of the landing site and watched. I enjoyed observing the individual, close up, landing approach of each paraglider . . . whether they landed on their feet or their bum . . . which is possible with the padding in the harness (seat), but obviously not the preferred way to land.

Makenna made sure we knew that Daddy’s (paraglider) was the “blue one."

We watched the "blue one" soar above, disappear around the mountain and come back.

He was not in a hurry to come down, so we unpacked the old blue ice box . . .

ate supper . . . and dessert.

Finally it looked like Daddy was making his landing approach,

and a nice landing it was!

Our happy flyer with his deflated wing,

being greeted appropriately.

Supper was finished while the kids got in some flights of their own.

A relaxing, enjoyable and entertaining picnic it was!

Tehya Bethanne

Tehya was barely two when they left for Indonesia. This summer she is turning eight. I wish I’d known that, when she disappeared into that plane headed for Asia, it would still be possible to be Grammy and have a special relationship with my grandchildren. At the time, the unknown brought such aching sadness to my heart.

But over these past six years I’ve been comforted and blessed in many ways as I’ve learned that not only can she know me and love me but that life, as she sees it there, is working out for good in her.

Living among the poor and observing her mom and dad’s care for them is an experience that I would not be too quick to take away from her now as I see how she has grown into a confident and outgoing girl with a caring spirit for anyone who needs a friend. She has challenged me with her sensitivity and knowledge of what is right and wrong and she is eager to be of help where she can be. I think she will be a doctor one day. Come to think of it, penmanship is not her first priority. I write that with a smile.

Last Saturday, while everyone had plans to go out, she and I stayed home. It was the middle of the day, but it was movie time . . . a matinee. . . why not?
She had everything planned.

The movie was chosen.

She set the ambiance with lighting and blankets and, upon her suggestion, we made popcorn.

I wonder who enjoyed and needed this more . . . she or I? It’s times like these, that I treasure in my heart.

Paeton Ben

Paet is almost six. He can find things to entertain himself with in the back yard for hours. Rocks, sticks, leaves, bugs . . . so many fascinating things to find!

There was a not just a bit of excitement when we found out that we had a wasp nest in one of our trees. For some reason the swinging action from the tire swing would bother them and they'd come out in numbers, ready to fight. Well, Papa who practically grew up in the wilderness, knew just how to get rid of them and we had peace.

On Monday Paet was playing outside when he saw me with my camera and asked if he could take pictures of a little friend . . . that looked to be quite co-operative.

He went all about the yard . . . placing him in different positions . . . in different places . . . looking into the viewfinder and clicking up close. There were more than 30 pictures in my camera . . . of the same yellowjacket wasp. . .

When I caught up with Paeton, even I let his friend settle into my palm!

Yesterday he came to get groceries with me, chatting up a storm that made passersby smile. He had a few dollars burning a hole in his pocket and was constantly on the lookout for how he could spend them. And what did he get? A package of plastic snakes, frogs and lizards . . . and even though they are just as dead as the wasp, I'm glad they do not look so real.

Makenna Sage

I'm not sure if she remembers being here before,

but I think she has decided that this is a good place.

Buns with jam are her love language,

the ever-ready swing under the tree, her delight

and uncle Ben's old binoculars, from th old toy box, better than any purse!

I love how she asks, "Grammy is?"

How she calls for Papa.

How she loves shoes.

How, when she has an accident in her pull ups, she cries, "yucky, gross!"

How she comes up with new words every day

and how she sings Jesus loves me to herself.

Remaining Teachable

An inspiring chapter, by Donna Parton, talks about maintaining a teachable heart. It kind of caught me by surprise that when we stop learning, we basically stop relating to those around us. It makes sense. How else can I encourage, teach or help someone unless I am willing to find out what is going on and what I can do?

The teachability that I am talking about is not about being willing to learn for selfish reasons, but it’s about being willing to put others before myself. It’s about being in conversation with someone and asking specific questions to get specific answers. It’s about coming away from a conversation having learned something, while having made that person feel like they count.

We all know and meet people who simply have a lot to say or, on the other hand, will make us feel like we have something to say. This causes me to think about how I make people feel. Regretfully, I know I am often more concerned about what I can contribute to a conversation than what I can learn from it.

King Solomon, known as the wisest man on earth, did not get there by chance. In a dream one night, God said to him, “Ask whatever you want me to give you.” Solomon admitted his need as a leader and asked for wisdom. He saw his need for a discerning heart and, rather than letting his pride get in the way, he kept a teachable attitude.

The question is, what can I learn from someone I meet today? May I practice the words, tell me more.