Meandering Moments by Elsi

No commitments! No appointments! Nothing that I have to do!
No new crisis looming largely! Plans and deadlines? Not a clue!
No quick driving, running errands, zipping home and out again,
Pat the tiger, let the dog out, in the car to come back … when?

And the sky was dark and gloomy, so I chose a friendly book,
Curled beneath a fleece-y blanket … then a little nap I took.
No time rolling up the miles, rolling gains or rolling loss,
I just cuddled with my beagle, gladly gathering some moss.

Sallie and I are up to “loose leash walking” in obedience school. The rules are simple: when she pulls on the leash, I stop. When she turns and looks at me, we start again.

We were walking this weekend, and her beagle nose caught something exciting in the underbrush by a parking lot I had cut through. She hit the end of the leash, and I stopped, waiting for her to look at me. She continued to sniff and pull, ignoring me completely. I made “kissy” noises; she ignored me. I called her name in a bright, cheery voice. Again, she ignored me.

That’s when I broke the rules and dragged her out of the bushes, across the grass and dirt, and onto the asphalt parking lot. Then I waited for her to look at me, making encouraging noises and speaking her name.

She refused to look at me. She finally sat in front of me, but looked to one side, then the other, down at my feet, behind me in the distance … she would not look directly at me! It took more than five minutes before she finally submitted and gave me eye contact. I told her what a good girl she was, and on we went. (I won’t go through that parking lot again!)

And I was thinking … so often, when I’m tempted by something (what James calls my “evil desires”), I know that the solution (the “way out” Paul promises in Corinthians) is to turn from the temptation and look at my Lord. But will I do it? Far too often I refuse, looking past Him, around Him, not willing to submit to Him. And only when I finally give up and look directly at Him, when I see Him as Master, only then can He reach out and help me.

I think of the chorus of “Turn Your Eyes upon Jesus,” written by Helen Lemmel in 1922: Turn your eyes upon Jesus, look full in His wonderful face, and the things of earth will grow strangely dim, in the light of His glory and grace.

I was ten. We went into the front yard and stood, looking at the dark sky, mentally filtering out the stars. Daddy spotted it first: a moving dot. I could hear the awe in my parents’ voices as we watched.

I’d heard the talk and knew the possibilities: Maybe they were watching us, right that minute! Maybe they would drop bombs on us from space. Maybe … maybe this meant they were better than we were, smarter and better educated!

What it meant, in reality—the Russians’ launch of Sputnik, the first man-made satellite—was that American schools started teaching science and math to grade-school children. That Kennedy, half a decade later, would speak of the New Frontier and a national goal to put a man on the moon. That science fiction was suddenly real and walking on the earth.

But then, in 1957, in the midst of the Cold War, we were afraid.

Hi, this is Sallie! And I know what I want for Christmas. Under the tree, maybe, or in my stocking … yeah, in my stocking would be good!

See, Mama and I go to this silly class about sit and down and stay and leave it. When I do what Mama wants, I get a “good girl!” and a treat and a clicker click.

Well, last night we went for a walk in the PetsMart store. Mama said something about practicing not pulling on the leash. You know, I wouldn’t pull, if she’d pay attention and keep up with me!

Anyway, I saw beautiful rats, down in glass boxes right at nose level! And guinea pigs, too! And then … oh, then I saw wonderful, colorful, moving creatures—a little high for me to see, so I put my front paws on the glass and just admired them. Mama said they were fish. (I thought fish was what Dolphin eats. Must be mistaken about that.)

So, please, I want rats and guinea pigs and an aquarium full of fish! And I promise to be a good doggie and earn lots of clicks!

love,
Sallie

It seems fitting that the new year follows Christmas, don’t you think? This week is Rosh Hashanah, the Jewish New Year, the beginning of the High Holy Days.

Congregation Har Hashem meets at my church (Boulder Valley Christian) for their holy days, more than filling the sanctuary and parking lot. When I came in for Bible study today this morning, there were almost no parking spaces available, and the building was alive with people. To our delight, we were able to hear them blowing the shofar at noon. What a lovely way to greet the LORD!

And my resources tell me the new year is celebrated with apples and bread dipped in honey, symbolic of a sweet future. I like that!

So, you have a happy and sweet year, okay?

Yes, I’m fully aware it’s only the 27th of September. But today was officially “Christmas in September” for Mardel Christian and Educational Supply. And I was at the Denver store signing books this afternoon. I wore a Christmas vest and had a lovely time, chatting with customers and employees and looking at the books (what could be more fun?).

I walked Sallie this morning before I left, and got some rather odd stares from neighbors as we trudged through the autumn leaves, me in my brightly decorated vest! That’s okay …

It’s my second Christmas this year, and we haven’t even gotten to December yet! When I visited Fort Clatsop in Oregon—where Lewis and Clark wintered before heading back east—the costumed interpreters greeted me with a cheery, “Merry Christmas!” They were having Christmas in July (see my July 26 post on the Corps of Discovery).

And do I love Christmas! I love the lights and colors and cheerfulness of the season. I love the happy childhood connections: presents and cookies, chocolate and carols and excitement. And I love being reminded that God Himself chose to be born on this earth as a human baby, a child with messy pants who had to learn to feed Himself and walk. And then He chose to love us enough to die a hideous death for us … and come back to life!

So I’m glad to have Christmas three times this year—I’ll take all the reminders I can get!

Sallie and I were at obedience school again this evening. I must admit dog training has changed enormously in my six decades of experience! When I first went through obedience school, you gave the command and forced the animal to comply; then you praised the animal. In other words, you taught sit by saying, “SIT!” Simultaneously, you pulled up on the leash and pushed down on the hindquarters. The dog sat, perforce, and you said, “Good girl!” Same for “DOWN!” only you pushed on both hindquarters and shoulders.

Morgan, my trainer, taught sit this evening by the simple expedient of moving her hand, with treat obvious, toward the dog’s nose and then back over her head. The head followed the treat, and Sallie sat automatically. Easy learning!

But down was harder. Morgan got Sallie to sit, but didn’t give the treat. Instead, she put her hand on the floor, coaxing Sallie’s nose (and, in theory, forequarters) down, too. But Sallie wasn’t getting it—she pawed and nibbled at Morgan’s hand, seeking her treat. It took many tries before she accidentally lay down, and I’m sure she had long since forgotten what command was most recently given.

Morgan explained, “I want her to think about what she’s doing, to try to figure out what I want. If she understands the process, she’ll learn other things more easily.”

I keep saying, facetiously, “I wish God would just send me an email!” But maybe he’s doing what Morgan does: maybe He’s letting me figure it out, work on what He’s thinking, try different things with increasing eagerness to follow His lead and learn His thoughts.

Shoving me into sit position would be simpler, but I wouldn’t learn as much …

Yesterday was the first full day of autumn, my favorite time of year (well, excepting winter, which has Christmas, and spring, which has Easter and new life, and summer, which has travels). I love the colorful fall leaves, and the only thing wrong with living in glorious Colorado is that aspen gold is monochrome—I want full-hued leaves, like you get in the East and Midwest.

A few years ago, I was thinking about the leaves, and wrote the following poem:

Old Age and Death

Even to your old age and gray hairs I am He, I am He Who will sustain you. I have made you, and I will carry you; I will sustain you, and I will rescue you (Isaiah 46:4)

Old age and death.
The leaves mourn.
“Once we were young,
… supple and strong,
… beautiful workers helping our tree.
But now we are deteriorating,
… discolored,
… fragile and useless.
Weep and wail,
… grieve our loss,
… this terrible tragedy!”

Yet thousands of tourists swarm
… to see the autumn color
… in its majestic glory.
Someday,
… when that time comes,
… will I be a vibrant leaf,
… … bringing pleasure to others
… … and to my Creator?

Sallie and I have started obedience school. A long time ago, when I was a girl (before they invented color, and when the dinosaurs were around, according to some of my students), we trained dogs with a choke-chain collar and a combination of “NO!” and “good girl!”

But I’m learning to use a clicker, a palm-size gadget with a button that clicks when it’s pressed. First you train the dog to associate the sound and a treat; that’s called “loading the clicker.” Then you use the click, the treat, and “good girl” to reinforce the behavior you want the animal to learn. Right now Sallie and I are working on her name—getting her to look at me when I say her name.

I’m familiar with the theory of the clicker, its use with animals and with severely autistic children. It’s an easy way to reinforce and shape behavior positively. I’m enjoying getting to use it.

And I’m beginning to wonder, is the Lord training me in a similar way? Oh, not with a clicker, and not by rote. And yet, I don’t really know what He has in mind for me. He is shaping my behaviors by reinforcing small changes, small actions.

For example, I was at Chick-Fil-A this evening, and a woman said, “Did you speak at Boulder Valley Christian Church a few weeks ago?” Her family is seeking a church, and visited mine the day I shared at Communion (about hands; see my September 1 post). That she cared enough about what I’d said to recognize me three weeks later in a restaurant … that says something to me.

Similarly, I’m now volunteering at the Family Learning Center, working with needy children, helping them learn to read, and learn to learn. Is this where the Lord wants me now? We’ll see.

I’m working with pilates … back in therapy … training my dog … looking at calls for stories and deadlines … Do I hear a celestial click as I do these things?

When Brad said tonight’s topic was “living the Word,” based on Psalm 119, I felt a bit overwhelmed. What an enormous subject—to really live God’s Word!

I must admit, personally, I tend to prefer fantasy. I like Tolkien’s ents, the talking beasts from Narnia, and the colorful minor dragons Donita Paul writes about.

Much of the time I find the “real world” hard to live in, full of difficulties and distractions, too painful and awkward for comfort.

BUT, I’m discovering (and trying to keep in the forefront of my mind) that we live in a world better than anything even C. S. Lewis could imagine!

A world where plants and animals praise God in song:

Praise the LORD from the earth,
you great sea creatures and all ocean depths,
lightning and hail, snow and clouds,
stormy winds that do his bidding,
you mountains and all hills,
fruit trees and all cedars,
wild animals and all cattle,
small creatures and flying birds.
(Psalm 148:7-10)

The grasslands of the desert overflow;
the hills are clothed with gladness.
The meadows are covered with flocks
and the valleys are mantled with grain;
they shout for joy and sing.
(Psalm 65:12-13)

Let the heavens rejoice, let the earth be glad;
let the sea resound, and all that is in it;
let the fields be jubilant, and everything in them.
Then all the trees of the forest will sing for joy;
they will sing before the LORD!
(Psalm 96:11-12)

A world where our God created not only everything we see, but also dinosaurs and, yes, even dragons!

Look at the behemoth,
which I made along with you
and which feeds on grass like an ox.
What strength he has in his loins,
what power in the muscles of his belly!
His tail sways like a cedar;
the sinews of his thighs are close-knit.
His bones are tubes of bronze,
his limbs like rods of iron.
He ranks first among the works of God.
(Job 40:15-19)

I will not fail to speak of the leviathan,
his strength and his graceful form.
Who can strip off his outer coat?
Who would approach him with a bridle?
Who dares open the doors of his mouth,
ringed about with his fearsome teeth?
His back has rows of shields
tightly sealed together;
each is so close to the next
that no air can pass between.
They are joined fast to one another;
they cling together and cannot be parted.
His snorting throws out flashes of light;
his eyes are like the rays of dawn.
Firebrands stream from his mouth;
sparks of fire shoot out.
Smoke pours from his nostrils
as from a boiling pot over a fire of reeds.
His breath sets coals ablaze,
and flames dart from his mouth.
(Job 41:12-21)

Sometimes I get a glimpse of that world—when the fall leaves are in full color, for example, I all but hear them as a flourish of trumpet calls. A friend’s hug offers God’s love and forgiveness. A well-constructed piece of writing (hey, I’m an author!) paints the world with vibrant colors and shapes straight from the art museum.

Oh, what a life I could live, when I look with holy eyes!

It’s similar with Communion, I think—we eat a bit of bread (that would certainly taste better with jelly on it) and sip a scant mouthful of grape juice (I’d really prefer diet Coke). But when I look at the reality of it … the real meaning behind this tradition … the glorious world of forgiveness and an eternity of God’s presence … everything’s transformed …see what I mean?