Sailing away from the Island of Settle

Sailing away © K. Hall

As captains of our crafts, we have questioned our purpose, and have been curious about our destination. We have wondered-or hoped-that someone or something else was in charge, and that they would provide the direction. All we had to do was sit. And wait.

Ultimately, though, whether or not we were prepared to admit it, we have been at the wheel, and somehow, we ended up on the Island of Settle.

We may have been drifting along, concentrating more on keeping the boat upright than on moving forward, when we scraped against a beach, and decided that it would probably be fine.

We may have been piloting ourselves to the security of a harbor-any harbor-knowing we may not get to live the life of purpose that God intended for us, but at least we would be safe.

We may have spotted a pier, and thrown our rope around a support post, hoping that THIS was the place where we would find that nameless thing for which we had been searching.

The problem as I see it is that too often we are willing to disembark at this little plot of land because it appears easier, more comfortable and convenient than doing the real exploring to discover the true fit for our lives.

When we take this path of least resistance, we can sense that the match isn’t there. Our boat may not fit into the slip. The natives may not appreciate our faith, optimism, and new ideas. The general climate and nourishment may not agree with us.

In spite of those signs, the temptation is to stay. The siren voices seduce us, reminding us that there probably isn’t really anything better out there, and why go to all that trouble and expose ourselves to danger, and that we’ll get used to it, and that hope is overrated, and that we just need to stay put and make the best of it.

Well, I believe it is time for each of us to ignore the lies, provision our boat, throw off the ropes, and navigate back into the open waters with a plan and a prayer, and we will leave the Island of Settle behind, with a fresh breeze at our backs, an attitude of humble expectation, and God leading the way.

On being sugared off

Maple Sugaring Time © deCadmus from Flickr

As we move from mid-March to mid-April here in New Hampshire, the wintry nights are mirrored by warm days, and maple syrup season begins.

I do feel sorry for you if you have never stood in a sugar shack and experienced the heat of the roaring wood stove while being enveloped in the warm steam that carries that trademark sweet maple-y scent.  In the short version of this event, the maple trees are tapped with spigots or tubing, and the sap-which runs only at this time of year-is gathered and poured into a large vat back at the shack. It is carefully tended and stirred over a hot fire until everything that is not syrup is boiled and filtered away.

This process is called sugaring off, and the result is an amazing transformation of something that looks pretty ordinary into sweet, translucent, golden shimmering spoonfuls of lip-smacking goodness.

I think there are times we have a lot in common with the sap. Somehow, as we go through life, who we are sometimes gets watered down, and picks up debris, such as fear, anger, resentment, greed, jealousy, and pride. All of this dilutes and negatively flavors not only our nature but also that of our relationships. There comes a point, I imagine, when God takes his measure of us, and determines that it is our time-again-to be sugared off.

He lights the fire, and we feel the heat.

More often than I would like to admit, I think most of us resent the high temperatures and pain of this process, and desire to just continue floundering along on our own not so merry way. However, despite how we may feel, once we are “done”, well, at least for this time, we realize we are better for it. We are sweeter, and more like the person He designed us to be.

We are well served to welcome our season, whenever and how often it occurs, and open our arms to the delicious results of being sugared off.

The view from down here

Ahhh, the view from the top of a mountain on a crystal clear sunny day. The clarity of the landscape, the rich greens of the fields, the deep blues of the lakes. In regards to just taking your breath away, the view has no equal.

Or does it?

I would like to suggest that a view from the opposite perspective can be equally exhilarating, if you are willing to see.

I am talking about when we are brought to our knees, to the familiar floors of our home, when we can no longer bear the burdens of life by ourselves, because it all becomes too much too carry. We find ourselves huddled against the world with our broken spirits and broken hearts, crying out for help, as we crunch up against dropped Cheerios, stick to a lost Gummy bear, and sense the army of dust bunnies that settles around our aching form.

When we are brought to our knees, we are forced to make a closer examination of ourselves. Just as we can see all the little goodies we missed during our housekeeping chores, we are closer and more open to acknowledging the behaviors-often embarrassing to admit-that were part of what led us here. Pride. Independence. Anger. Fear. And so much more.

Where’s the exhilaration in that?

Well. Wait a moment. Here it comes, with a very loud CLICK. The light comes on, brilliant and bright, practically blinding us with its ability to clarify and define. We realize that we have been trying to live up to an unattainable standard, we’ve been pretending we’re Superwoman, or we’ve just been behaving badly. At that moment, while we are sitting there at rock bottom, we get it.

We realize that we need to truly let go. And let God.

And that my friends, is as exhilarating as it gets. You are keenly aware in that moment you are not alone. You may have thought He doesn’t even know you, or that He has walked away from you. He does know you, He’s not mad at you and He hasn’t walked away. He is there, patient and forgiving, and full of grace, reaching out His hand to you, to help you onward and upward.

Take His hand, and allow Him to lead. The view from there is magnificent.