Category: Musings

Ok, so now you can stop bugging me.  I’m back on track – this is post number 6.  I made up for last week and wrote two this week.  Arizona, here I come!

I did this thing. You know what I mean – all of a sudden, I had plunked down my money and it was done. A teeny tiny thought had become an idea, which in turn became a desire, that became action.

So, I got to thinking. How in the world did this happen? It’s been only about 3 weeks max since the first inkling, so it shouldn’t be difficult to cast back in my mind the initial thought that quickly, like a speeding out of control train, ended up with my bank account quite a few dollars shorter than what it had been the moment before I clicked on ‘buy now’.

It was just about seven years ago I left Arizona, fully anticipating returning, if only as a visitor, within a few short years. Well, that didn’t happen, but tons of life did for the next seven years. I went from Arizona to Michigan, my personal Siberia, to help care for my mom with dementia, then down to Florida chasing the heat and sunshine to be close to my son who is in prison.

I think the thought-seed was planted when a co-worker mentioned she was taking her daughter on vacation to Colorado in the summer. She mentioned the Grand Canyon, and I’m pretty positive my brain did that association game. I’d been to the Grand Canyon years before when I owned a condo in Arizona.

The next thing I knew I was googling ‘condos to rent in Fountain Hills’ and checking Travelocity for ticket prices. Just out of curiosity, of course. I got to thinking that IF I were going to go, I’d want to go in April before it got blast-furnace hot, but still good and warm for hiking. My boss okayed the time off, and before I knew it, I had purchased a plane ticket, secured a rental car, and bought a week in a cozy condo.

My excitement was almost uncontainable.

Oh, I should stop here and say that it was just about tax filing time and, based on my last two years’ returns I was quite confident of about how much I’d be getting back.

Oops. Found out that was an incorrect assumption. Yes, I can afford to pay for the vacation, but I really wasn’t wanting to see that much subtracted from my savings. Ah, well. What’s done is done.

Which brings me to the next thing I need to say. This was pretty much totally out of character for me. I tend to be a very cautious person, and quite frugal, so spending the money before actually filing my taxes was not my modus operandi.

Which got me to thinking something else. See how my mind rabbit-trails?

I think God set me up. He wants me to go to Arizona, and He knows that if I waited until I filed my taxes, once I discovered I wasn’t getting more than diddly-squat, I’d nix the Arizona idea altogether.

So now I’ve been looking at condos for sale because real estate is a passion of mine and I’m a realtor.com addict.

I have to reiterate something I’ve been saying for years. For my time in Arizona, God did a special work on my heart that has chained my heart to those mountains and desert as if they were literal chains. I cannot get the feel of the sun on my skin and the evening shadows playing on the mountain faces and the intensity of life in the desert out of my head. I have never wished to be in a place as intensely as I have my mountains and my desert.

As a woman is heartsick over her love to come home, so I’ve been heartsick to go back to the one place where I felt healed and whole. I experienced God there in a way I’ve not anywhere else. I almost touched heaven. How can I not want to go back?

Through the joy and grace I’ve experienced in Florida – and I have learned to love Panama City Beach’s people and the white squeaky sand and the never tiring waves of the ocean a stone’s throw away – I believe the mountains and the desert of Arizona are where my essence still lives, and I want to go back and be reunited with my soul.

Don’t worry, I’ll take lots of pictures. And after a week, I’ll get on a plane and fly back to my life in Florida, where I’ve been gifted with many graces and people I dearly love.

I know, I know!  This is post 5, but it’s week 6.  I really did write something last week, but it wasn’t good enough to post, so, what can I say?  I’m a work in progress.

I sat spell-bound this evening watching a movie. No, not a movie. The re-telling of an achingly sad and beautiful story. A story that happened before I was born to people just like me. Their sadness was my sadness. Their struggles were my struggles, and their joy became my joy as well.

What made it so riveting wasn’t the acting, which was spot on, or the scenery and setting which were breath-taking, but the perspective of each character as they told their part in the unfolding saga of loss and sacrifice. What they saw, what they felt, and what they believed about what was happening around them, to them, and to those they loved the most.

Each one with a character arc, and each one with a distinct and important place in the story. Each voice with their own unique sound and intonation telling their tale with passion and brutal honesty.

The ending was only partially predictable, and immensely satisfying.

I love stories that reveal only hints and keep you guessing at what was really behind someone’s actions. What was their motivation for doing what, on the surface seemed terrible, but in the end showcased the character’s strength that became an inspiration to others.

Terribly difficult things happen to the best people. Hearts are broken and lives are shattered. But those who overcome the worst life can bring, have a way of finding joy in everyday life. They turn their faces to the sun, breathe deeply, and are thankful for what they still have.

The best stories are stories of triumph over evil, where love grows ever stronger despite the darkness, and hope saves the weak, giving them strength they never believed they could possess to overcome difficulty and even thrive in the worst of circumstances.

Each time we rise up out of our sorrow and disappointment, we encourage someone else. And the ripples keep going for as far as the eye can see.

Having others to do life with makes the uncertain journey fulfilling and worth it. There’s nothing like the look of love and understanding from a friend, nothing like the embrace of a neighbor with a shared grief, and nothing like the whispered words “I’m right here”, to infuse a heart with purpose and meaning to keep going.

As Jesus said, “in the world you will have tribulation, but be of good cheer, for I have overcome the world.”

Everyone’s story is valuable and everyone’s story has merit.

Post number 3 for 2019.  Keeping my commitment to publishing one post each and every week.

The trip back was uneventful. Easy drive to the airport. Easy going through security. No delays in boarding. I did, though, get a pretty good picture of the sunset over the Panama City Beach area from the airplane window, but the window had large scratches in it, so the picture looks fractured. The colors, though, are still phenomenal.

I’ve been trying to do a better job of ‘being there’ for others. I’m an extreme introvert, and I do mean extreme. My own company is usually preferred over any other, although I enjoy people just fine. Just in small doses.

Sometimes I do a pretty good job of ‘being there’ and sometimes I really suck at it. I’ve ‘adopted’ a young man who is the same age as my son and we’re pen pals. We’ve been writing back and forth, and now emailing for about 4 years now. He has a little less than 2 years remaining on his prison sentence, and he’s rightfully excited about getting back to having a life again and being a contributing member of society. He’s witty, highly intelligent, and growing in his faith.

I put money on his account periodically, since I know he has very little family who help him, and he always thanks me and shows appreciation for the correspondence and monetary assistance. I think I actually get more enjoyment out of the relationship than he does. It truly makes me feel like I’m making a difference in someone’s life.

More than 20 years ago I began sponsoring children through Compassion International, and I still have one little boy named Jose I sponsor. I write him letters when I remember, which isn’t anywhere near often enough, I’m sure. A few times over the years it was touch and go whether I could continue in my support because I had lost my job a couple of times and finances were pretty tight especially when I had resigned my position and moved back in with my parents to help take care of my mom who had dementia. But God was faithful, and allowed me to continue sending the much needed money to provide for these impoverished children, to give them a real chance at life and to give them the opportunity of hearing the good news of the Gospel.

I’ve also been able, here and there, to take food to needy folks and pay for bus tickets and plane tickets, and meet other needs as I’ve become aware of them.

But in between those times, I can be quite selfish and allow myself to become very isolated. I read books and listen to sermons and feel like I’m just not as good as these Super Christians. I make mistakes and screw things up and get way too upset at other drivers.

Some days I just don’t understand why God still loves me.

Just like that picture out of the plane’s scratched window revealing God’s gorgeous sunset, when we allow God to use us, even though our imperfections show, the beautiful colors show even more. Isn’t it a comfort to know our Heavenly Father uses us – His fractured and imperfect children – to spread the good news to other fractured and imperfect people?