The Ocean.

Sometimes when it is raining and everything is gray, the ocean looks like it is being tickled. Each wave laughs in little chuckles. Other times, like today, the ocean just seems morose. Every wave is a sigh and each raindrop adds onto its burden. Maybe it just depends on the eye of the beholder.

And though the pain is an ocean
Tossing us around, around, around
You have calmed greater waters
Higher mountains have come down

Meaningful Pain.

From a friend:

We are hard pressed on every side, but not crushed; perplexed but not in despair, persecuted, but not abandoned, struck down but not destroyed…. we do not lose heart. Though we are wasting away, yet inwardly we are being renewed day by day. for our light and momentary troubles are achieving for us an eternal glory that far outweighs them all. So, we fix our eyes not on what is seen but what is unseen. for what is seen is temporary, but what is unseen is eternal.

2 cor. 4:8-9, 16-18

A young woman went to her mother and told her about her life and how things were so hard for her. She did not know how she was going to make it and wanted to give up; She was tired of fighting and struggling. It seemed as one problem was solved, a new one arose.

Her mother took her to the kitchen. She filled three pots with water and placed each on a high fire. Soon the pots came to boil. In the first she placed carrots, in the second she placed eggs, and in the last she placed ground coffee beans. She let them sit and boil; without saying a word.

In about twenty minutes she turned off the burners. She fished the carrots out and placed them in a bowl. She pulled the eggs out and placed them in a bowl. Then she ladled the coffee out and placed it in a bowl. Turning to her daughter, she asked, ‘ Tell me what you see.’

‘Carrots, eggs, and coffee,’ she replied.

Her mother brought her closer and asked her to feel the carrots.. She did and noted that they were soft. The mother then asked the daughter to take an egg and break it. After pulling off the shell, she observed the hard boiled egg.

Finally, the mother asked the daughter to sip the coffee. The daughter smiled as she tasted its rich aroma. The daughter t hen asked, ‘What does it mean, mother?’

Her mother explained that each of these objects had faced the same adversity: boiling water. Each reacted differently. The carrot went in strong, hard, and unrelenting. However, after being subjected to the boiling water, it softened and became weak. The egg had been fragile. Its thin outer shell had protected its liquid interior, but after sitting through the boiling water, its inside became hardened. The ground coffee beans were unique, however. After they were in the boiling water, they had changed the water.

‘Which are you?’ she asked her daughter. ‘When adversity knocks on your door,how do you respond? Are you a carrot, an egg or a coffee bean?

Am I the carrot that seems strong, but with pain and adversity do I wilt and become soft and lose my strength?

Am I the egg that starts with a malleable heart, but changes with the heat? Did I have a fluid spirit, but after a death, a breakup, a financial hardship or some other trial, have I become hardened and stiff? Does my shell look the same, but on the inside am I bitter and tough with a stiff spirit and hardened heart?

Or am I like the coffee bean? The bean actually changes the hot water, the very circumstance that brings the pain. When the water gets hot, it releases the fragrance and flavor. If you are like the bean, when things are at their worst,you get better and change the situation around you. When the hour is the darkest and trials are their greatest do you elevate yourself to another level? How do you handle adversity?

Are you a carrot, an egg or a coffee bean?

---

We are often afraid of adversity and trials, but one thing I am learning is that pain can be meaningful. It is easy to become guarded or hardened to the situation. How much harder, but better, would it be to accept it, embrace it and then learn from it?

Catching Kisses.

Weakness: Little, Latino boys
They are absolutely open with their affections.

So I've worked at the preschool for over a year now. In this time span, I have seen one of my favorites, Santi, advance from my 2-year old class to the 3-year old class. He's in the big yard now, which is separated from our toddler yard by a wooden barrier disguised with bushes and flowers on top. [This fools no one!]

I hadn't seen Santi in a couple months, but his class came into the adjacent yard to play today!

"Miss Stephanie!" He called. He can't pronounce my name, but that's ok because I love him.

"Hi Santi!" We meet at the barrier, him on his side and me on mine. "I'm going to give you a kiss, ok?" It's true, I kiss children on the cheeks because I cannot help it when my heart overflows. The barrier keeps us apart so I just kiss my hand and give him an invisible high five.

"I'm going to catch it!" He makes a swatting gesture and hits himself in the forehead. He then kisses his hand and blows a kiss to me. Wow. It had never crossed my mind that kisses can be blown and this gesture melts my heart. This is too cute and I'm way too easy.

As the scene dissipates and as I sit here now, what I am most touched by is that love has no bounds. Physical barriers cannot stop the expression of love. Time, too, as he hadn't seen me in a couple months and 3 year olds have short memories. But doesn't this speak so much more of our God whose love has no bounds and whose memory never fades? And who loves us in spite of our ugliest, most hateful parts? So today, I am thankful for little latino boys who remind me of God's love.

Also, a little girl picked a flower for me (even though she's not allowed to). Melt my heart! It's really the simple gestures that make a big difference.

Blessed are the pure in heart,
for they shall see God.
Matthew 5:8

With Ink the Ocean Fill.

Could we with ink the ocean fill,
and were the skies of parchment made,
Were every stalk on earth a quill,
and every man a scribe by trade;
To write of the love of God above
would drain the ocean dry;
Nor could a scroll contain the whole,
tho' stretched from sky to sky.

-Frederick Lehman

Welcome, October!
A season of contemplation.

The Present.

We are walking down the street, holding hands. There's a playground at the end of the block and I run to the swings and climb on, and Henry takes the one next to me, facing the opposite direction, and we swing higher and higher, passing each other, sometimes in sync and sometimes streaming past each other so fast it seems like we're going to collide, and we laugh, and laugh, and nothing can ever be sad, no one can be lost, or dead, or far away: right now we are here, and nothing can mar our perfection, or steal the joy of this perfect moment.
-- The Time Traveler's Wife, p.240

I like this sentence. I like how it captures the essence of a perfect moment and what the present is. No thought of the past, no thought of the future. Just now.

Isn't it funny how two people can cross paths constantly in life, but the timing may never be right? It's almost like there is a constant molding of the two people until they fit each other. Even then, when they are together, they will always be changing and affected by one another. Except now, they are doing it together. Makes me wonder-- when? who? why? For their upmost good.

[I also noted how long the sentence is. All commas. And now, there is a sense of freedom in breaking all the grammar rules we learned in grade school. Incomplete sentences, too many commas, repetitive beginnings. Despite all that, the thing that binds the whole thing together is the idea. It's the idea of what a perfect moment is like.]

I read this over the kitchen sink as I ate a piece of toast. Peanut butter drizzled with honey, to be exact. Why over the kitchen sink? Because I simply could not put the book down. Flashback! This is exactly what I did in elementary and middle school because I could not bear to put the book down. I am altogether glad that I can still enjoy the things I enjoyed in the past. Reminds me that inside, there's still something that's the same. Or that I take reading to the extreme.

To the here and now.
Cheerio.