Summer Goals

Although my summer hasn't been as "productive" as I had hoped it would be (or feared it would have to be!), I have been able to accomplish a couple of goals of utmost importance. For instance, this weekend I got to catch up with a couple of friends from high school, Erin and Robin. We went to the Fabulous Fox Theatre in Atlanta and watched Ben Hur, a part of their summer movie series. [For Abilenians: The Fox is like the Paramount - complete with Egyptian/Moorish decor and an "enchanted" ceiling - but it's about 4 times larger with two ballrooms. It's usually the place to go in Atlanta for touring Broadway shows, among other performing arts events.] In the summer, they try to recreate the old movie-going experience, complete with live organ music, a sing-along culminating in "Georgia on My Mind" (what else?!), a classic cartoon (Mickey Mouse this time), and an old news reel before the feature presentation. It was a lot of fun. Catching up with old friends: Check!

Another goal of mine this summer was to hike in North Georgia as much as possible. I still hope to get in another day hike with Mom, but I've already had the opportunity to hike a couple of times with Erin. This is a great opportunity for some photo-journaling. The following pictures are from Panther Creek Falls, a 5-mi. hike a little more than an hour from my house:

The fearless hikers!

The mountain laurel was still in bloom, one of the delights of hiking in the Southern Appalachians during late spring/early summer. The flowers were waning, showering our path and the forest floor with their lovely pink petals.

Our path took us alongside a tranquil mountain stream - the kind of environs that evoke transcendence, poetry, and "going green." We enjoyed another summer-time treat here: bing cherries! Yum!

Toward the end of the hike the waters became more tumultuous. We marveled at the way the river had sculpted the riverbed over the centuries.

Finally, we reached the end, the namesake of the trail: Panther Creek Falls.

The memory of the hike lived on in more than pictures - Erin and I both walked stiffly for the next couple of days. (We like to think of ourselves as active, outdoorsy girls, but our muscles seem to think that they were meant to belong to prissy princesses.) But achy muscles are part of the appeal of hikes like this. It sounds like a paradox, but it's not: I find nothing more spiritual than this kind of deeply physical, tangible experience. It's the loving-kindness of God made known in rushing waters, blooming flowers, delicate bugs, and singing birds. It's the presence of Christ, whose incarnation affirms the dignity and goodness of physical bodies, disclosed in human companionship and sore muscles. It's the Spirit of God moving in a perceptible but hard-to-put-your-finger-on way, not unlike the uncontrollable, unpredictable rustling of the wind through lush, green leaves.

No Man Is An Island

Thanks to a thoughtful gift from my friend Kadie, I've been slowly chewing on the first chapter of Thomas Merton's No Man Is An Island. The beginning of the chapter has been especially poignant for me this week:

A happiness that is sought for ourselves alone can never be found: for a happiness that is diminished by being shared is not big enough to make us happy.

There is a false and momentary happiness in self-satisfaction, but it always leads to sorrow because it narrows and deadens our spirit. True happiness is found in unselfish love, a love which increases in proportion as it is shared. There is no end to the sharing of love, and, therefore, the potential happiness of such love is without limit. Infinite sharing is the law of God's inner life. He has made the sharing of ourselves the law of our own being, so that it is in loving others that we best love ourselves. In disinterested activity we best fulfill our own capacities to act and to be.

Yet there can never be happiness in compulsion. It is not enough for love to be shared: it must be shared freely. That is to say it must be given, not merely taken. Unselfish love that is poured out upon a selfish object does not bring perfect happiness: not because love requires a return or a reward for loving, but because it rests in the happiness of the beloved. And if the one loved receives love selfishly, the lover is not satisfied. He sees that his love has failed to make the beloved happy. It has not awakened his capacity for unselfish love.

Hence the paradox that unselfish love cannot rest perfectly except in a love that is perfectly reciprocated: because it knows that the only true peace is found in selfless love. Selfless love consents to be loved selflessly for the sake of the beloved. In doing so, it perfects itself.

The gift of love is the gift of the power and capacity to love, and, therefore, to give love with full effect is also to receive it. So, love can only be kept by being given away, and it can only be given perfectly when it is also received.

I love this passage of the book, but there's this little skeptical voice that wants me to buck Merton's assertions. Specifically, that voice asks me, "Is such selfless love humanly possible?" Merton is, no doubt, presenting an ideal, but he's presenting it as if it is within reach. Is it? Or, perhaps some of us learn to love in a completely selfless manner - how likely is it for those two persons to meet and love one another so that their love "perfects itself"?* This is an ideal to be lived into, but maybe it is not perfectly achieved until God completes his good work in us (Phil. 1:6).

Merton goes on to nuance his discussion of selfless love: it doesn't just consent to everything the beloved wants. Merton explains that we sometimes fool ourselves into believing that we are selfless when we give in to everything the beloved wants. In truth, we can be enslaving the beloved to ourselves. Also, selfless love desires what is good for the beloved, and that is not always the thing that the beloved wants.

* Note: Merton and I are both referring to all kinds of love, not merely romantic love.

At the same worship service as mentioned in my previous post, I got to spend a brief moment talking with Ike Reeser. Ike is the children's minister at Northlake, and he's played a special role in my spiritual formation, well beyond my years in the children's ministry. Worship had been, as I've mentioned, refreshing and discouraging all at once. Ike enhanced the refreshment.

Ike asked me the "What's next?" question. Now, sometimes this question functions as a glorified "How are you?" - a sort of polite greeting/conversation starter. But not with Ike. I responded the way I usually do - with uncertainty - and he offered some words that were blessedly reorienting. It was something like, "We worry a lot about discerning God's will for our lives, but maybe it's better to seek God's will for the world and find a way to fit into that."

This is not a landmark statement, of course. I've heard it before, from more than one person. I've repeated it to myself and even heard myself say it to others. But isn't that the way good news is sometimes? You've heard it before, maybe all your life, but somehow repetition is not wearisome, but rather it spurs you on, reaping the fruit of seeds sown long ago. Through the gentle words of a friend, you again hear the summons of God. That is a beautiful thing.

It's as if God gently whispered in my ear, "I love you, child, but you're not at the center of my plans for the world. You can be a participant in my plans - partnership is the way I like to work! But if you want to seek my will, you're going to have to get over yourself." An invitation to stop obsessing over myself: what liberating, welcome news!

Incidentally, that leads me to think about making some "A Few Days After New Year's" Resolutions involving ascetical disciplines...

Mouse to Mousse: a random commentary on my week

Well, Alley (our cat) has officially lived up to our expectations! I arrived home today from spending the weekend hanging out with family and friends to discover grey and brown tufts of fur all over the front porch (and some unidentifiable brown junk - I don't even want to hazard a guess as to what that was). It was about the right color and amount of fur to be a mouse... but there was no body (!), so it's hard to tell what type of small mammal she devoured in our absence. So, I'm giving her the benefit of the doubt and calling it her first official mouse! Yea, Alley! This is just what we got you for! What a swell kitty!

***

I was fortunate enough to get to spend part of this week at my grandparent's house with my sister and my nephew. Here are some updated pictures of Janis and Quint, and Quint charming his great-grandparents:

(Janis made that shirt for herself - she's talented in so many ways!)

***

I was also fortunate to be able to spend Friday night and Saturday catching up with some of my best girlfriends from undergrad. We didn't have any elaborate plans - we just punctuated our constant conversation with meals, spending most of our time lounging around in various rooms of Tera's house. We laughed, we reminisced, we dreamed, we cried. I love seeing the beautiful women my friends are becoming and the way God is constantly shaping them. Friends are such a blessing!

***

In case you were wondering, this is what I look like with straight hair:

Now we know. Here's what I like about straight hair: I can run my fingers through it as much as I want to and not worry about being mistaken for Simba later. Here's what I don't like: it took us about an hour to straighten it. My normal time commitment is about 2 minutes - just long enough to towel it dry and apply mousse. (Not quite worth the trade on a daily basis!)