Won't You Be My Neighbor?

 "Love your neighbor.”  What does that even mean?  What does it look like in action?

We have some pretty great neighbors in our sleepy community north of Spokane.  Several of them are the kind of people that you could call to borrow a cup of sugar or even to change a flat tire.  They are the people who will check in to make sure everything is good.  In a lot of neighborhoods these days, people don’t really interact.  Many are an independent lot who might wave or say hello, but it doesn’t go beyond those courtesies.  And there are some that seem to just want to keep their distance and pretend they don’t live in a neighborhood.

A couple of days ago our next door neighbor sent me a Facebook message.  One of their very large (think horse-sized) canine companions had gotten upset and tried to dig to get out of their yard when they weren’t home.  Now mind you, Thor is a HUGE mastiff.  He doesn’t have a vicious bone in his body, but he can be pretty intimidating with his size and bark.  She had gotten a message that Thor was pinned under their fence and she asked if I could go check on him.  He’s harmless, she said.  Of course I would go.  I burst out of our door and hurried to where he was stuck.  And he truly was pinned.  The poor guy managed to get his upper body under the metal fence, but about 2/3 of the way through, the metal base of the fence dug into his back and he couldn’t go any further.  He wasn’t bleeding or whimpering, but he was panting and clearly in distress.  I could tell this was a bigger job than I could do.  His owner “dad” was on his way, so I just tried to comfort Thor as best I could.  If you know anything about mastiffs, this involved a great deal of drool and dirt.  At one point he just laid his giant drooly head on my feet.  Soon our neighbor showed up, dug him out and I came home and wiped off the slobber. 

I tell this story only because I did not think twice when our neighbor needed help.  I absolutely knew they would do the same for me.  But here’s my question.  Who is our neighbor?  Are they the people I know would reciprocate or the ones who just wave as they pass by? What about the unfriendly ones?  What would I do for them?  Are they the people we live near or is our neighbor anyone we come in contact with?

I want my heart to be so open that I would help a stranger without any expectation of getting anything in return.  There may even be risk in putting myself out there that way with someone I don’t know or who may have issues I don’t understand.  But God does not only choose the “safe neighbors”.  Not a single solitary person is outside of His love.  Who knows who might come to understand that love if I live it out just by just being kind, showing up, offering to help?

So I have to ask, who is your neighbor?  What does it mean to love them?  I think we’re called to do the small things and sometimes the big things to show our neighbors what love really is.  Even if big means comforting a very large slobbery dog who just needed some love till his parents got home. 

Left Brain, Meet Right Brain

 

My mind is a very busy place.  If you remember The Jetsons cartoons, I picture my brain resembling George’s commute to work in his little spaceship with all the other spaceships zipping in and out of the skyways as fast as they can go in a hundred different directions. I also relate to the movie “Inside Out” where all the feeling characters are trying to be in charge in Riley’s head.  That’s me on a regular basis. 

I’ve been trying to learn more about how my brain actually functions.  I recently read Dr. Jill Bolte Taylor’s book, “My Stroke of Insight”.  Dr. Taylor spoke in the very first TED talk that went viral.  She is a neuroanatomist who studied the brain to learn how to help her brother who has schizophrenia.  However, at age 37 she had a massive brain hemorrhage – a stroke.  The TED talk and the book describe how she felt and processed what she was experiencing during and after the stroke, and how her knowledge of how the brain works was key in her recovery.  I’m now reading her new book, “Whole Brain Living”.  It takes an in-depth look at how the hemispheres and thinking and emotion centers in each hemisphere function and how we can integrate them to make the best use of our brain.  Fascinating stuff!

The more I read about how our brains work, the more I realize I have control over what I do with what goes on in my brain.  I just read a devotional this morning by Craig Groeschel, pastor and teacher who founded Life Church which now has ten campuses across the U.S.  He wrote, “Our lives are always moving in the direction of our strongest thoughts.”  He points out that the Bible tells us the same thing.  (Philippians 4:8; Romans 12:1-2) When modern science and scripture agree, I want to know more.

I have found it very helpful to get out in nature and get quiet.  I force the traffic in my head to slow down and come to a standstill.  It’s almost like when you turn an etch-a-sketch over and erase all the drawings on the screen.  I have the perfect little spot on our property I like to call my “mini sanctuary”.  I share it with hummingbirds and quail, squirrels, wild turkeys, deer, and an occasional moose.  If I take some deep gulps of the clean, fresh air, close my eyes and listen, then the busyness in my head ceases to be so loud.  My heart rate drops, my body relaxes.  It feels as though I’m adding years back onto my life. It’s also much easier to hear what God might want to say to me. 

There’s something to this “take your thoughts captive” thing.  Allow that right hemisphere to take you to that “right here right now” blissful place that helps your thoughts be happy and positive, then camp there.   Allow Joy from “Inside Out” to be in charge of your thoughts today.  Here’s to a happy day! 

Deciding to Decide

Generally I’m a decisive person.  I’m often the one in the group that makes the call when the conversation goes, “What do you want to do?”  “I don’t know what do YOU want to do?”.  Because I’m not the most patient person, indecisiveness makes me fidgety.

What I’ve come to understand about being decisive is that you can also decide not to decide.  I wrestled with a decision for the better part of a year.  My heart was telling me I needed to go a new direction but my head said I had a timeline and I would power it out until my chosen day turned over on the calendar.  I was feeling unfulfilled in what I’d been doing for the last 19 years. More and more I began to bargain with my own timeline.  There’s a very stubborn part of my personality that can turn it’s back on how I am feeling, so there began to be anxiety and sleepless nights as the internal battle raged. 

A couple of months ago I spent time on the Oregon coast.  Ocean air always helps clear my head.  One day on the beach at Neskowin, the message came through loud and clear that I needed to start listening to my heart.  I needed to let my timeline go because God had a different one in mind for me.  Then some circumstances made it very clear that the decision needed to come sooner rather than later.

I share this because maybe there’s a decision you’ve been putting off.  You might be hesitating because change is hard.  It might mean stepping into the unknown without a roadmap.  Find your quiet place and allow God to speak into your thoughts and feelings.  I find that if there’s something I need to learn or lean into, the message comes in a variety of ways.  Be open.  Be brave.  Step toward what feels scary.  That scary thing might be the best thing you’ve ever done. 

Decision

Time expired on compromise and truth bending;

conviction no longer allows for pretending.

Integrity dictates taking a stand;

conscience requires drawing a line in the sand. 

The heart is speaking, the mind has joined with it.

Excuses and tolerance can no longer be defended.

Courage is necessity and bravery the trail,

the path behind forbidden where values prevail. 

The expanse of road confounds, intimidates;

direction unclear, faith reigns and dictates.

An unsteady first step is all that’s required,

divine reveals navigation as destination becomes dire. 

Unknown grows into comfort as heart becomes lead,

mind surrenders to truth as soul becomes freed. 

The Glamping Life for Me

 Camping is a topic that every couple should sort before they get married.  You wouldn’t think it could be a deal breaker, but it’s right up there with how many kids you want or don’t.  Keith loves camping.  He was a boy scout for heaven’s sake.  For him, peeing in the woods was as normal as snow in Montana. 

After we got married and had two little kids, he introduced me to tent camping.  The site he picked for our first campout had to be accessed by boat.  It was in the woods…with no bathroom….the only water was in the lake…..the only power was lanterns and a campfire.  We hauled half of our kitchen in and out with the boat.  With two little kids you also take enough equipment for a small army.  Small people don’t get peeing in the woods.  They get cold at night and you end up with three people in a one person sleeping bag.  And who thought sleeping bags were a good idea in the first place?  I always woke up all wrapped up like a mummy.  But I wanted my husband to be happy, so I did it again.  After the second time of coming home exhausted and dirty with two exhausted and dirty offspring, I said in no uncertain terms that I hated camping.  End of conversation. 

Fast forward till our kids were out of the house.  My sister and brother-in-law talked us into going on a camping trip in their tent camper.  I still had camping PTSD and I wasn’t at all sure I wanted to go for a WHOLE WEEK, but I pretended to be brave.  It wasn’t so bad. We stayed where there were public bathrooms and showers, and there was electricity and all the stuff you needed was already stored in it.  It was WAYYY better than camping in the woods in a tent.  This I could get used to!  So we bought our own tent camper.  That was fun for awhile, but then we upgraded to a used bumper pull trailer that you didn’t have to put up and tear down, and it had a bathroom and real beds and a kitchen!  This was something I could embrace.  A few years later, we traded for a 36 foot 5^th wheel with all the bells and whistles.  Now we’re talking!  Camping purists say we can’t call it camping, that we have to call it “glamping” (glamour camping).  I don’t care what you call it, it’s the absolute best kind of camping for this non-camping girl. 

The Covid lockdowns made us appreciate our home on wheels even more.  We could change the scenery and still be safe and comfy.  It really was a mental life preserver.  We’ve been a lot of places and will spend the summer exploring as often as we can get away.  We love the glamping life.  If you enjoy peeing in the woods, more power to you.  I’ll keep my flushing toilet, hot shower, kitchen with an island and comfy bed on wheels.  Happy camping!

Prologue

Growing up on a cattle ranch in Montana meant that winters were long and cold and dark….and ENDLESS.  We had a radio and two television channels, neither of which were particularly reliable.  No internet, no Ipads, no audiobooks, no Facebook, Instagram or Twitter.  Can you even imagine?  

We had books.  I would race through books because I couldn’t wait to see how they ended.  My friends were Anne of Green Gables, Nancy Drew and the Hardy Boys.  What all that reading did was create in me a love for writing. I wanted to create my own adventures that maybe other people would like to read.  I was in elementary school when I started writing short stories.  I wrote poems and journals and letters.  Writing became my friend in wintertime when we were mostly isolated under frigid temps and drifts of snow.

Putting words to paper became my passion.  It was all I ever considered for a career path.  All that reading and writing during my formative years meant that school came easy.  I could write my way through everything but math, which somehow I managed to get through and still keep  my GPA.  After graduation I couldn’t wait to leave Montana, which I believed was much like living in Antarctica, and fled to western Oregon with a lofty goal of a degree in journalism and a career as a feature writer. Then I met a guy.  A story for another blog, but my writing career  got put on hold because….life.

So here I am.  Kids raised, recently quit my job of 19 years, and not a clue what I should be doing now.  Suddenly I was ridden with anxiety and self-inflicted guilt about not contributing and lacking productivity with no idea how to rest in this new stage of life.  One day someone said to me, “You write really well.  You should start a blog.”  A tiny and long forgotten spark deep inside suddenly lit.  The small, flickering flame became a full-blown fire.   The writing started to pour out of me once again. For now this blog; maybe next a children’s book or a collection of poetry.  THIS is the next chapter, one page at a time.  There will be insights, observations, questions and random ramblings with some humor and sometimes a little sarcasm (my love language).  As a bonus, I’ll thrown in some of my amateurish photography. 

My thanks to Kenji Nitta who prompted the blog idea, to Graham Wardle for encouraging me to take one step at a time until the next chapter presented itself, to Keith who has always been my biggest fan, and to all my friends near and far who promised to read my work.  Hopefully each footnote will build a story worth reading!