This and That

Over these past several weeks I have been piled on, stressed, stretched, pushed, prodded, dismissed, de-valued, unheard, unimportant, cut-down, cut-off, cut through, famished, exhausted and invisible. As I consider and write each of these descriptives, the experiences that go along with them pop into my mind. All together it is enough to cause me to break down, bow out, quit, walk away, wash my hands of it and shake the dust from my feet, finished.  

Over these past few weeks I have been complimented, liked, loved, encouraged, inspired, accomplished, recognized, thanked, provided for, helped, highly spoken of, admired, and honored. If this second list had not come to balance out or even negate those things on the previous list, it is a pretty sure bet that I would need to be medicated. At least!

Over these past few weeks of seemingly unending homework, deadlines, over commitments, achy-armed toddler carrying, messy house, dirty car, under filled bank account, under appreciation, fatigue, emotion taxation, and dreams on hold, I have wondered if it will ever be any different. 

And then over these past few weeks things have been different. 

Loved ones gathered, pay days came along, health stayed, friends came near, provisions continued, nature’s nectar was sipped, even gulped, baby hugs abounded, belly laughs compounded, well wishes were given and received, love was secured, faith proven and hope was consistently renewed. 

What tended to look overwhelming was not. What seemed impossible was possible after all. What was meant to derail did not. Missions were accomplished. Success was achieved. 

Sometimes over these past few weeks I have waited mouth open, tongue out, for a single drop, something, anything that would infuse with a burst of life. Other times I sipped sweet life through a long, slim straw, drinking it in at an unflurried pace.  Some of these past few weeks has been guzzled and gulped like there was no more where that came from and the first one to the bottom of the glass won. I did win. And I did lose. I smiled, frowned, laughed and cried. 

If there are lessons to be learned, and there always are, I would start with this; 

1) Don’t try to hurry through this to get to that, whatever the this and that may be. “This” you have, “that”, you do not yet, and may never. So find, even if it really means make, good of the “this”. 

2) If you get “that”, be grateful. 

3) Whatever I am thinking all along this way of life, is the same as what others have thought and do think. What I am feeling has been felt by others, what I wish for is wished for by others. I am not a freak, they are not a freak, and you are not a freak, no matter what the outside may suggest. The outside is just the costume for the ball. When the party is over and the lights are turned off, we are all the same under our costumes. 

4) And finally but of the most importance, remember. When it is all but certain you have been required to do what cannot be done, proceed forward as if you believe it can be. Remember the many other times you thought the same thing, but proved it to be untrue, it could be done. You did it.

Here we all are today, not as a lucky break, not by some fluke, but by the mercy of a God who thrills to the successes of His own, making wide the path so our feet do not slip. 

Over the past few weeks a lot of life has been lived, and I am so thankful for it, thankful for both the “this’ and the “that” common to us all. 

Over these next several weeks I will pray that the past several weeks lessons are not easily neglected. I will pray that I remain even and steady, remembering the successes as all around me is uneven and unsteady. I will pray for the grace to say to God “do as You please” when the this’ or that’s could not be farther from what I wish for. And I will trust what is next because He was trustworthy in the past.

My greatest hope is to do the next few weeks better than the past few, and better than any of the few before them. Whether privileged to sip life through a long slim straw, or guzzle it, or wait mouth open for a single drop on parched tongue, never forgetting to taste it.

 P.J.

There you have it,
Spring has sprung
Another semester
of life is done

The time was presented,
Invested or spent
And can’t be retrieved
Once it has been lent

Some frittered away,
Like dust in the wind,
Never minding the moments
Won’t come back again

 New semester begins,
a fresh notebook to fill
Of unwritten lines,
Stories yet to reveal

 Some of this and that,

Then the next thing you know

Yet another semester

Of life will go

 So here while we’re in it
We dare not miss
For the chance of “that”,
By sacrificing “this”

P.J.

Pure

Stop and Smell the Flowers!

Trust Jesus

All out joy!

Winter's Diamonds

Pre-Snowshoe

Already March, I can't help but feel like I missed January and February, like it snuck right past me while I wasn't looking. 

I filled too much of it with have to's instead of want to's, though in fairness, I did get myself into this college thing. I wanted the degree and now am obligated to meet the requirements, three nights a week until ten p.m., plus an on-line class, and this after having a toddler Monday through Friday. I get to sleep about midnight so I can repeat the routine bright and early the next day. Most Saturdays are invested shuttle driving with my old job still, and whatever happens to be free time on nights and weekends is spent completing homework. Sunday morning's at church and lunch afterwards with family and friends, are my week's highlight.

I plan breaks, like a day trip to Disney, or an overnight stay if time allows. I visit parents a couple hours away and sometimes get to enjoy a day here at the house, correcting the disaster that it becomes when no time or effort is made to prevent it.

If I am really lucky I make something, anything, to release some of the pent up creative juices. That is why I signed up for a ceramics class this semester. It does not count toward my degree but it counts toward my sanity!

Life's busyness flows from one thing to the next until they are all simply, past. 

In January I gave my deposit securing my spot for what has become an annual Spring-break ski trip. In February I purchased my lift tickets and paid the balance of the trip fees. Now here at the beginning of March I am on the eve of that departure. Excitement is rising. I look forward to being with six of my kids, four by birth and two by marriage, and with friends old and new. Twenty one of us altogether.

I hope for at least one day of blue skies and sunshine for great photo-ops. My intention is to see, hear, breathe and absorb Winter all the way in, getting my fill until the next time, if there even is one. I, fifty-six year old Patty, am going to purposely bundle up to brace against the much disliked cold, so that I can hurl myself down slippery slopes and fall in icy snow, while not freezing because I am properly outfitted. I will then gather myself up, and repeat! 

I am a little nervous about that, for myself and others. I don't like to get hurt and putting myself in a situation where that is highly more likely, is scary! My thighs will feel the burn, my shins will feel the ache of leaning into the stiff boots, my fingers will numb with cold, and bruises are likely to occur. 
 My crazy competitive boys have hurt themselves on past ski trips which gives me good reason to fear repeats. My girl has gone off the side of the mountain. Bum knees and a broken wrist have happened. 

This time, one daughter-in-love is carrying precious cargo, the next baby G. She will see snow for only the second time in her life, mostly as a spectator this time. I will miss my little baby-cakes and feel bad that my trip will alter what he has become accustomed to. He fills grandma's Monday through Friday with activity, smiles, laughs, discoveries, precious memories old and new, and hugs. Sweet genuine, heart-melting hugs. Of course I'll miss him!

I really am a better me when I break from routine to refresh, and it is with all of me that I hope routine is the only thing that gets broken!

It is only these few days of march, and soon they too will be past, but not without them being planned for, anticipated, filled with living and loving, fully appreciative of what is offered just this once. 

Routine will soon enough demand my attentions again as March finishes and turns to April, then May. Before we know it talk of Summer plans will come, and go. That's just the way it is. It is so important to intentionally make plans not to miss it! One thing for certain, time will go, and how it went is the all important reason we get any of it at all.

It's odd that I can go from brushing sand off of my toes to wool sock fuzz between them in just a matter of a few hours time. These toes are tickled pink for both, and all ten of them and I say,
let Spring-break begin!

P.J.

Leaving for Snowshoe in the a.m.  March 1, 2014

All day long I shuttle guests
here from the land of frosts
in search of warmth and sunshine
they thought might be all but lost

rubbing lotion into skin
too long banned from light
absorbing all they can before
they board their return flight

when once again they'll trade
their cotton white's and pink's and blue's
and have to close their flip flopped feet
back up in socks and shoes

what kind of nut would choose to leave
this tropic paradise?
exchanging it for freezing temps
and piles of snow and ice

well, that would be me, I must confess
I'm prone to nutty stuff
like these few days of winter fun
'til I've had quite enough

then lucky me comes back to where
the weather suits my clothes
to shed my woolen layers
for that warm sand on my toes!

P.J.

Where the Rubber Meets the Road: Snowshoe, March 5, 2014

The old term, "where the rubber meets the road" has become near and dear to me in light of the events of a couple days ago.

Our well planned trip to Snowshoe West Virginia began as we expected it would and continued as we hoped, right up until we reached the back woods Allegheny Mountains of Virginia . There I was tried to a mental and emotional limit that I am happy to say I had not experienced in quite some time. I also do not mind adding here, that I could have done without it then too.


We had a perfectly good plan, with perfectly good directions, that we decided to detour from due to a winter storm passing right where we were headed, forecast with a 100% chance of snow. Even the locals were advised to stay home and not drive. This was no surprise, we were aware of the forecast  before we left flat sunny Florida, but plans had been made and we figured we would adjust if and as needed. On the morning of day two the decision was made to adjust. That adjustment included traveling right into where the locals were advising not to be out driving, but friends there offered a place for us to wait out the storm.


This was the first in a series of would have, could have, should have's.


We were met there with kind hospitality and beautiful winter views of freshly fallen snow, suitable for picture taking. We added one more person to our group since we were there, and were expected to arrive to our ski resort destination hours sooner than the group she would have traveled with had we not detoured. There were still about five hours of driving ahead of us so we headed back to it as soon as we felt the storm had at least mostly passed. We had only been stopped an hour or so, but added to the detour drive time, plus procrastination time as alternatives were considered before leaving the hotel that morning, all together had put us a few hours later than we'd hoped, but hey, no control over the snow. 

We hoped to get to the resort area in time to pick up our ski rental equipment at the Ski Barn and enjoy a nice hot chili dinner before turning in for a good night's sleep. Everyone was anxious to begin our first big day on the slopes.

Ah yes, but detours are seldom as they appear.


GPS is a handy modern tool, albeit notoriously unreliable in "certain situations". Sticking determinedly to the directions specified by our GPS was our second would have, could have, should have. Twelve people from Florida in a church van pulling a trailer of luggage and equipment, followed by a small car with four more people, pressed onward and upward, head on into a "certain situation".


On a nice warm sunny sightseeing kind of day adherence to the GPS's shortest route directions would have been an awe filled delightful experience. Our day as it turned out was blanketed with a fresh snow fall and the road we were on was evidence of that accurate forecast. Winding through and out the other side of a very small town as the GPS directed, finally took us out of the residential area to Silver Spring Road, which looked to me to be an immediately wrong direction, and unthinkably scary. There was no way that winding through that remote little town to this, was where we should even be considering going, but go we did.


I was in the back seat of the little car ahead of the van pulling trailer. Our walkie talkie beeped, the van peeps wondered if we saw the big sign advising drivers not to rely on GPS. We had not. At that point we were at least somewhat committed to the road ahead as it was narrow, snow covered except for the dual black tracks of a previous driver or two, and no place to turn around, especially for the van pulling trailer. How would we do that with mountain on one side, which looked soft enough but was in reality solid rock under that fluffy white blanket of snow, and a guardrail-less drop off on the other?


At a curve on the incline we slowed, lost traction, slid, regained traction and continued in the small car. I was more than concerned about the van pulling trailer and its driver, my born and raised in Florida far away from snow son of twenty six years. Another call on the walkie, they were stuck at the same spot we had just freed from because they had to slow behind us. We could not see each other, each at a different point around curves. I thought we needed to go back from where we'd come, the roads were not going to improve but were clearly getting worse. We did turn around to head back down to them at the same time they regained traction and radioed that they were moving up to us. We just got over as far as we could so they could keep going past us and not get hung up again. We turned around a second time, not impossible in the small car with the very limited space up there on the mountain, but not easy either.


The van pulling trailer with my son driving that snowy mountain road was then ahead of us. The two black tracks in the white snow covered road narrowed as we climbed higher and deeper into the committment. With them out of sight around the next curve, our small car was too light to get up the steeper inclines and again lost traction slipping and sliding toward the mountain side, but thankfully not into it, when it at last stopped, stuck. We radioed that we were stuck, they responded with "yeah, no bueno" they were stuck too.


Getting out of the car to see around the curve to where they were, was an unsettling sight. Van pulling trailer stood still, with twelve people aboard, on a slippery slope, dangerously close  to the drop off side. What we had there was definitely "a certain situation"!


My twenty six year old son who had never driven in snow sat with his foot pressing the brake of the van pulling trailer on incline dangerously close to the drop off side of a mountain, afraid to move at all from that brake as any movement carried with it the possibility of slipping past the point of return. All but he carefully off-loaded the vehicle. I told them to find things, rocks, to chock the wheels so he could let his foot off the brake. After twenty or thirty minutes he was free to relax his brake foot and mind, and finally get out himself. I was at greater ease.


Already we were cold, needed bathrooms and had no idea how long we would be stranded. Cell phone reception that was nonexistent actually got through to 911. We had become one of those calls, you know, the ones that you hear about on TV shows or the nightly news. The kind where the caller can't say for sure their location, and the operator's tone gives away her opinion of eye rolling oh brother what is wrong with these stupid people that they decided to go where they couldn't say they were. She told our caller that she would dispatch an officer to where she thought we described we were, and that one would come to assess the situation to determine what to do next, though it may take some time since we don't know where we are and she is guessing on where to dispatch an officer.


After a few minutes of discussion amongst some of the guys our location was determined with fair certainty, so a second 911 call was placed to add clarity to the first. This proved to be the first smart thing we did since based on the original call an officer would have gone where the operator sent him, which was not where we were. Big difference!


The scenery there was breath taking and would have been ever so much more enjoyable under different circumstances. Still, I could not help but immediately notice the trickling creek along side of us, just running along the sloped forest of white, quietly, calmly, reassuringly busy breaking the otherwise deserted and silent setting, unflustered by our dilemma.


What a relief it was about an hour later to see the flashing blue lights of the four wheel drive SUV driven by officer Tommy Deem! We were not alone there on that mountain. Someone who would know what to do had arrived to rescue us! Assessing the "certain situation", officer Deem called for a tow truck. A couple of tow drivers declined stating the job was too dangerous or they were unequipped for the need. A second SUV came in behind the police vehicle. They were a couple out for an adventure, now too stranded in this snowy mountainside traffic jam.


Not long later came a VDOT vehicle. Never has a big yellow snow plow salt truck been a more welcome or delightful sight! He was actually just out to plow the road, completely unaware that we were there or that the road we were on had not yet been plowed and salted. He chatted with the officer and decided he could plow and salt behind our small car to get it free and out of the way so he could make his way up to the van pulling trailer to get it free, so he could get past us all to continue on to make the rest of the mountain road passable. He had to hand shovel the snow away from the van pulling trailer tires and spread salt with a shovel because he didn't want to risk bumping anything with his truck, which might start it all sliding.


After the salt melted through the snow and iciness, the van pulling trailer was able to back away from the edge and toward the mountain side, so that the big VDOT truck could pass and go on ahead. It helps very much to be an experienced mountain driver when in "certain situations", such as we had there. He maneuvered like the expert that he certainly proved to be. Lesson: Never underestimate the skills and know-how of your DOT workers!


By that time we had had hours to discuss the fact that we were apparently only a mile and a half or so from the top of that mountain where we would be met with an intersection at a better road for our trip off of it. Top being the key word, we still had to get down. I had high hopes and nagging doubts, for that better road. Going back to where we had come from, where the sign advising against reliance on GPS was posted, was a six or seven mile trip, so up to the top seemed the most reasonable to the experts whose mercy we'd placed ourselves at.


As the sun was readying for its setting on the day, a second officer showed up, and the one tow driver willing to come out, arrived. He did not know, nor did we until the same moments that VDOT was probably all we were going to end up needing, but there he was, and there he waited with us for plow mans lights to come into view. It was well after dark before they finally did, and what a relief to see.


We knew the temperatures would quickly drop and all the salted wet roads would refreeze. There was no time to stall, we needed to start moving out of there. That VDOT man devoted quite a lot of time to clearing the last mile and a half for us to get out of that mess and safely off of the mountain. He said he repeatedly moved over the road and around the curves with his plow and salt, using three quarters of his salt load to do it. I didn't even get his name before he drove in the opposite direction to finish clearing the bottom side of that road. Just plow man, the real hero.


I asked to sit in the officers vehicle with him while we waited. His heater was on, I had a few questions, and Chris, our cop pal along for the ski trip, had already been talking with him for a good bit of time. He was kind enough to agree to lead us off of that mountain to the interstate at our request so that there was no chance we would put ourselves in another "certain situation".


A few hours later we finally started making our way along. Our caravan of six vehicles, officer Deem, Chris and I in the police SUV, followed by the small car, the van pulling trailer, the joy riders,  the second cop, and the unneeded tow truck, wound through no less than three or four more bend back turns, up the hill. I kept looking back to count sets of headlights, easily lost around curves or through dense trees for the next mile and a half, to the top of that mountain, and the most beautiful stop sign I have ever laid eyes on.


We paid the tow truck driver $300. for a tow we didn't ultimately end up needing after the stellar job our VDOT man did to clear the slippery road. The tow driver earned that money anyway, for bravery and willingness to come to that dangerous spot believing he would have to rescue some crazy Floridian's. I really would have liked to see that money go to the VDOT man, who although was given something, deserved the most!


The joy riders went on their way only three hours or so later than anticipated. They even had picture proof of them standing in front of the Florida traveling spectacle, that they had an even bigger adventure than they were hoping for after all. I could imagine the amusing conversations that would follow about the crazy Floridians, where they and their listeners would shake their heads in wonderment of what we must have been thinking, or not thinking.


Officer Deem flashed his blue lights in a farewell to us as we merged onto the highway a few minutes later. God bless you officer Tommy Deem!


We had been to Snowshoe mountain twice before and knew the road to the top of it was demanding, but also that it is continually groomed for arriving skiers. We were still hours away, in the best conditions, but the best conditions had set with the sun. Even so, breathing was so much easier off of Silver Springs Road.


Knowing what was yet ahead, combined with dark and slick, would still strain my son driving van pulling trailer, and his passenger mother in the small car, praying. We were not home safe or out of the woods, literally. Some hope remained that we could make it to the Ski Barn for our rentals that night, but I just wanted my son to be able to stop driving for a while and relax. Equipment could wait until morning just fine.


Finally we reached Loggers Run, our home away from home for the next five days. We were tired, hungry, wanted to clean up, warm up, stretch and unwind, and couldn't wait to do it. The girls who left from the spot of our detour much earlier in the day, the ones who were supposed to arrive much later than us, actually beat us getting there. We expected them to be waiting on the inside, to open the door for us when we knocked, but no answer. With bad cell phone reception we had not received their text that they had locked the keys in the house and were themselves locked out. They were at the check-in office trying to get another key, which seemed easy enough and reasonable to hope for, but apparently extra keys did not exist. An hour later, plus $1000. more, we arrived at a solution. At that point, nobody even cared anymore about where or how, just please, make it happen. It was sometime after midnight with bank accounts $1500. shorter than anticipated for the day, that we finally settled into a house we would have to vacate in the morning when the "certain situation" of house keys had been rectified.
 
I was emotionally exhausted, immensely relieved, and grateful beyond words for safety amongst unforeseen, and unseen dangers.


Most of our group had no idea what vehicles without snow tires on unplowed mountain roads could be. Only unrelatable stories had ever been heard. Born and raised in the Chicago area, I knew from experience what winter driving was like. I knew the do's and dont's. We had put ourselves in a definite don't.


People do things like that all the time, with different outcomes. They are injured, even sometimes sustaining life threatening, life altering or life ending injuries. We had done just as some of them, yet we got the happy ending. We clothed ourselves in stupid and then pleaded with God to rescue us, to fix our mess and keep us from disaster. He did. We suffered no damage to persons or property. It was pretty miraculous really, and the whole experience set the tone for the rest of our trip, We were shown our fragility and it caused us to slow down, stop even, before proceeding with caution..


We were hidden in the pavilion of God as the psalmist speaks of his own "certain situation". We drove headlong voluntarily into that "certain situation" and still His care reached us there on that deserted unplowed back woods mountain road. There is no place His love for His own, even when they are their stupidest, cannot reach. He must weary of us, and yet pity us, and then mercifully care for us, over and over  and over again.


Experience has been gained, lessons have been learned, memories have been made. While stranded near that quiet running creek my mind kept repeating 'He leadeth me beside the still waters, He leadeth me beside the still waters, He leadeth me... 


Right then I decided to build an alter of rocks in my mind and in my heart, to always be able to see there when looking back at this place of rescue, in the land of the living. When the road of life up ahead becomes slippery, narrow, dark and fearful, I will look back at that alter in my mind and heart and remember. I will remember that no place is too remote, no situation too impossible, darkness is only an obstacle for me not Him, and my 
fears will calm because I am reminded of these.


The roaring lion who sought to destroy was no match that day, nor will he be on any other day. I might be curious to watch the replay one day, to see what was unseen by human eyes, the powers and principalities at work.


Really when it comes down to it, where the rubber meets the road, we only ever fool ourselves to believe we are in control. A car, a van pulling a trailer plus faulty GPS directions, and some unplowed snow on a mountain, always add up to the realization and humbling reluctant admission, that we are not.


Furthermore, when we do it our way, whatever the it is, we put ourselves in a place where we must be rescued. We don't end up there accidentally, we actually with intention and effort put ourselves there, it's the way of humanness. I wish it were not so. What I wish I would do I don't, and what I wish I would not do, I do. I am related to Paul.


There is no greater comfort to me than to know that at the end of all my try's, all my stupid's, all my are you kidding me's, all my fix this save me get me out of this's, 
I find Him there, 
and there, 
He always is.

1 Peter 5:8
your enemy the devil prowls around like a roaring lion looking for someone to devour

 
Psalm 27:5a
in the time of trouble He shall hide me in His pavilion

P.J.