Off with the Eye-Mask

On June 14th I left for Sweden to visit friends, extended family really, and experience their beautiful new home. Traveling is such a unique way to grow and open my eyes that every time I get in a plane or hop in the car for an extended drive, I expect the extraordinary. It’s a time when the ordinary moments are experienced, lived out and found to be AWEsome.

I’m currently reading two books which is necessary for a 9.5 hour plane ride. The Nomad tells the story of a woman trekking around the world to experience cultures and create deep connections with the locals. In the current chapter the narrator joins the Indonesian government at a very special ceremony where the grandmother of a high-ranking official is properly buried deep within the jungle. Despite being solitary women traveling with the entourage, she throws off the outcast label to be included in each unique custom from exhuming the bones to drinking a local alcoholic drink from a skull. Her ordinary black mourning clothes danced in an AWEsome event.

The other book sets my thoughts on the revelations of God. Ordinary people make ordinary churches only to have God transform them through the Holy Spirit. Buildings and faulty people are made to live out this AWEsome transformation.

So now I find myself with Mac, two ordinary kids, traveling around the world, encountering every ordinary moment of the TSA, well-designed bathrooms, cloud shadows on the fields far below, Jesus rays and small airline meals. And these moments of discovering and living are miracles. We have the ability and opportunity to know deeply the ways of the world. I’m sure one has never been so esoteric about the TSA, but I insist that even those systems help me see the AWEsome.

The importance of seeing the Sunrise

I wasn’t under any obligation and received no other incentive beyond spending 30 minutes of a very early morning with a friend on the way to the airport.
But then the sun rose.

Seeing the sunrise post-daylight savings time in Spokane is a unique experience. At 5:03am the sherbet colors of pink and orange hues from morning light crept up on the horizon as I drove east on I-90. The few clouds floated with their blue cotton candy fluff. I felt like I arrived at a wonderful birthday party and my sweet-tooth found satisfaction.

The rest of Monday was marvelous: productive, fulfilling and thought provoking. Thus I am left to muse:
1) Is a 4:03 wake up time the answer?
2) How crucial is it to experience the sunrise?
3) What can I do to make everyday start out with a selfless act?
4) Can I remember that God offers is smile and sweetness all the daylong?

Just like the morning sun, I am realizing gradually that my growth and beauty and deep love for the world, which can shine as bright as the rays, comes day after day.

child muse

Five-year old approval goes a long way especially when it comes to stories. Who better than to nix an idea or give a short though all the same standing ovation for some literary genius? While I wish I could claim either of those titles, a literary or a genius, I do have some clever stories every once in awhile. And this afternoon proved to be a magical moment.

I’m an artist that needs a muse, a muse with a suggestion, however small or off the wall. Were you ever asked to draw something and sit stumped at what profound picture might grace the single page with which you have to create a masterpiece? Somehow a flower always comes to mind. (Tangent: If ever I tried to fall asleep as a kid, the image of the Wicked Witch of the West, rainbows and elephants came to my head. Once the witch flew over these latter pieces of my imagination, I would be out. So flowers seem somehow docile and obvious.) When it comes to stories, a similar block comes to my head. That was until I read a book that suggested inserting 2 things: human, mineral or otherwise. Pink and teacups or grass and telescope can start a myriad of great stories. (This suggestion to get suggestions is key to improv if ever you have to MC without a script…)

This afternoon my listener offered princess and dragon. While almost too easy I decided to put the dragon in the closet and take the princess to 3rd grade. Only my hero, Oliver, could make all things right, all the while sporting green converse sneakers.

I finished not to applause but to a smile. I guess that was a good enough prize; I wasn’t interrupted or booed off the stage, and the audience participated in key ways, even naming the auxiliary characters. What this five-year old doesn’t know is that she gave me a boost, actually a running start at one of my bucket list items: write a children’s book.

Now I just have to find an enamoring title and equally clever way to present the child’s tale to adults. Talk about a tough crowd! Maybe I should hand out beanies with spinners when I present my idea. Weee…