What’s Underneath My Green?

I believe that all of creation points to God. I also believe that all of creation can teach me something that He wants me to learn.

The beauty of running on the same wooded path is that I actually know some of the more colorful trees – especially this time of year. The homeschool mom in me just had to know why some turn golden, others red, and still others a dark russet brown. And I had to know why each year the color saturations were a bit different. I thought I knew, but had to check anyway. Here’s your free science lesson for the day!

As summer meanders into autumn, we all know that the days grow shorter while the nights grow cooler. The changing amount of light and the changing temperatures tell the tree to start preparing for winter. The trees are able to decrease or cease their food production which stops the flow of chlorophyll to the leaves. (If you’ve forgotten biology, this chlorophyll has been what’s colored the leaves green and provided us with oxygen all summer long).

Here’s where it gets interesting! Under the green in the leaves of trees that turn yellow, gold, or orange in the fall lays zanthophyll. This is a yellow pigment that appears once the green fades away. Did you catch this? The yellow has been there all along. It is only because of the autumn changes that we can finally see it.

Fall 2011 was stellar for the yellow (I wanted to say yellar) colors to shine. Every sunny morning I had to stop and say (even if only to my dog), “Wow! Look at that yellow!” Even the trees in my neighborhood could take my breath away. I had never noticed the brilliance of the yellows so close to home before. The conditions were exactly right for the yellow to be at it’s best, and that glorious yellow caused me to worship God.

In contrast, the leaves that give us the deep red and magenta colors are a bit more fickle. Their colors are most brilliant only when fall temperatures range between freezing and 45 degrees and they have plenty of sun. Summer rain also impacts them. These colors aren’t hidden under the green in the leaves like our yellow trees.

Instead, some of the glucose produced when the tree manufactured its food is trapped in the leaves and when the chlorophyll disappears, the glucose reddens because in these trees, the glucose contains anthrocyanin, a red pigment catalyst. The red pigment was all set to do it’s magic. I love that it’s the same pigment that makes roses and geraniums red. I wonder if Alice in Wonderland knew that?

Finally, Ron and I search for autumn colors every fall upon the wooded hills of Galena. While the beauty is amazing, the colors seem rather subtle. Today I learned why the Galena hills, which are heavily covered with oak trees, seem more brown than glorious. The fading oak leaves actually are cleaning out the tree and contain waste products in place of the chlorophyll. They turn brown and then fall to the forest floor in often unremarkable fashion. Yet, they have cleaned the interior of that tree. I don’t have to remind you that oak trees are some of the strongest species around!

I’m not going to bore you now with any more details so back to my opening statement. What could God possibly be teaching me through this?

For me it became obvious as I was running through the woods this morning. Who I am on the inside eventually shows through. For me, the chlorophyll represents everything going easily, abundantly, and effortlessly. In seasons of change or pain, who we really are often gets exposed.

What’s underneath my own ’chlorophyll’? Do I look like the oak tree because I have a lot more cleaning out to do? I suspect there’s a lot more of that to go on. Have I integrated enough of God’s truth into my life to be the catalyst for His glory like the red pigment? Or do I shine only if all of the conditions are exactly perfect? Would my life cause people to turn toward God like the glorious yellow shining through from the inside? I pray that I will have the courage to do the hard work so that is true.

So, I think God has much for me to learn from a simple changing leaf. Gratefully, He is in the business of helping facilitate change. If you don’t believe that, just look outside.

Summer’s Last Day

“All of my life

In every season

You are still God

I have a reason to sing

I have a reason to worship”

 Taken from Desert Song by Hillsong United

This song always stops me in my tracks. It is filled with verbs such as “bring praise,” “rejoice,” and “declare that God is near.”

It isn’t lost on me that my son, Josh, loaded this song on my iPod because he is one of the most grateful people that I know. We didn’t teach it to him. He simply is filled with gratitude. Even when he was faced with a plateful of a dreaded meal, he thanked his dad and me. Before he ate it. He even thanked the proctor for his ACT for her presence during the exam. Who does that? We used to laugh at that idiosyncrisy of his, but now realize that it is quite an important practice. Being grateful…no matter what.

Tomorrow is the first day of autumn. Most people focus upon that by looking ahead to pumpkin pie, falling leaves, sweatshirts, and frost on the lawn. Today is the last day of summer. I am going to spend a few moments reflecting upon some of the ways that I saw God with me in this last season. We lose something if we don’t stop to be grateful. No matter what. With my calendar at my side, I am going to capture some of those moments that surface joy from my heart.

Summer 2011

* I tracked down State Fair Zinnias. It wasn’t easy because I waited too long, but I found some thanks to a kind customer who gave me a tip. These are the zinnias that wave at me all summer long. They never stop making me smile.

* God invited a team of women to partner in bringing a Boundaries with Teens  class to our church. I am honored to help lead and shepherd and teach in that class. It clearly was God.

* We got to stand far too close to U2′s concert at Soldier Field. Can you believe that my first ‘rock’ concert didn’t occur until I was 51? I got to experience it with Ron, Debralyn, and Josh (watching Josh watch the Edge was phenomenal).

* I got to begin running again after a wintertime knee injury. I thought those days may have been in my rear-view mirror, but there is again a smiling woman out on the running trail. God speaks to me there. Sometimes in whispers, sometimes by a glimpse into creation, and sometimes by chalk written words such as courage and hope on the path.

* Ron and I provided each of our children tennis lessons when they were little. This summer we played tennis as a family. Even my dear daughter-in-law joined in the fun. These were some of my freeze frame moments. Ron and I also play against each other. I think it’s safe to say that I am excited to be on the tennis courts.

* I spent the day with my childhood/high school girlfriends (pictured here). There is little sweeter than being with people who have known me all of my life.

* Even though it was gut-wretching to take Debralyn to Moody Bible Institute, she found her glass slipper. It is a perfect fit. She is living the answer to many prayers, and I am honored to watch her joy multiply.

* Jacqui was offered a long-awaited job. Her and Jordan’s patience and dependency upon God inspired me. Oh, he now gets to be the Athletic Coordinator/Recruiter in the Admissions Department. If you read more in my blog, you’ll know how much he loves ANY sport!

* I get to watch firsthand Ron help lead International Teams because I volunteer there once a week. I have never been involved in his workplace….and it is fun to see that side of him shine. And I get to help tell the stories of the people ITeams is serving.

* My relational world has become richer. Imagine my delight to open a card stuck in my mailbox reminding me that I have a friend just a few steps away.

* Great America with Debralyn. And then with Josh. Enough said.

* Witnessing the ‘good-bye’ to two servants who have blessed my and my family’s lives immeasureably. It’s an honor to be counted as their friend.

I’m realizing that I could go on and on and on about many of the blessings I am thankful for this summer, but I will stop here for now. Did you notice that most things revolve around people? (and creation….that helps me connect with God) Without relationships…well, I don’t want to even imagine what that would be like.

Some seasons seem rich…others more lean. But, I want to be like Josh and express gratitude no matter what. As I write this, I keep peaking at the time because I have to leave for a dental consult. Without going into any details, my mouth has been a distracting irritation…and I chose to sit and write this blog before I went….because, I am going to chose gratitude on summer’s last day. And even tomorrow, I will chose gratitude on the first day of fall.

Seeing Clearly

Morning Moon

I inherited my grandma Vogen’s hazel green eyes. I also inherited her poor eyesight. We both had severe astigmatism and couldn’t see well up close or far away. With my high tech glasses, I don’t think too much about not being able to see clearly. But for the past week, I have been thinking a lot about something my friend, Teresa, pointed out.

She was gazing out at the field behind her house (yes, she gets to live on a farm!) trying to see a bird in the distance. Struggling to decifer what kind of bird it actually was, she squinted harder and harder to try to make it out. Then she realized that she was looking through the side of the door that was covered with a screen. By merely taking a couple of steps to the side, she could look out the pure window pane. The bird was clear.

Many of us would have just moved on with our day. But Teresa did something very important. She stopped. She thought for a moment. She realized that she was moving slowly enough to actually notice the clarity with which she could see. She asked a great question. “How often have I been moving so fast that I was viewing my life through a screen?”

What a gift that question was in the midst of this season. I don’t get this right much of the time, but I long to see clearly. Not with my hazel green eyes, but with my heart. Since she told me of that moment on the farm, I have looked out the windows of my home differently. I am aware of the tiny grid of screen and how that distorts the view. I try to contrast that view with what it is like to actually step outside and see the flowers and sky, woods and birds without any distortion. I am training myself to transfer that discipline to how I look at my husband. My children. My friends. My neighbors. Even my dog. Can I see them clearly?

This morning I walked downstairs a bit earlier than normal. At 5:45am, the practically full moon was casting it’s glow upon the garden in my backyard. I stopped. I thought of the line from The Night Before Christmas that says,

“The moon on the breast of the new fallen snow gave a luster of midday to the objects below.”

That’s what it looked like. While the moonlight was falling upon grass and flowers, the yellow roses literally glowed.

I had a list packed day ahead of me. I had a choice in that moment. I could keep walking to get the coffee and laundry started. I could even peek out through the screened patio door. Or I could step outside with my camera and soak in the beauty of God’s new mercies for today.

Guess what I did? I listened to Teresa’s voice and stepped outside. The birds scolded me as they flew out of their comfy nests. That was the only sound I heard. I noticed the glowing roses. The sedum shimmered with the moon’s reflected light. I saw the morning awakening.

Something awoke in my heart as well and it is still alive even as I sit indoors at my computer. My list has dramatically shrunk, but each time I look out my window toward the garden, I smile at my yellow roses that greeted me this morning.

What do you need to see more clearly? How can you move the screen away? It will take all of us practice…but today reminded me that it is possible.

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Fulfilling Purpose

WHEN ANYTHING IN CREATION FULFILLS ITS PURPOSE, IT BRINGS GLORY TO GOD.

Monday: Awake. Take Josh to school. Pick up papers to grade. Drive to Starbucks and grade said papers. Begin to write talk for week one of Boundaries with Teens class. Return to school. Teach three literature and composition classes. Get groceries. Return home. Alter Jordan’s new suit pants. Hem three pairs of suit pants. Sleep.

Tuesday: Awake. Run. Laundry. Scream with joy hearing Jacqui got a job! Work on my book. Head to store to buy celebration gift for Jacqui. On the way, stop by friend’s house for quick visit. Continue work on my book. Prepare celebration dinner for Jacqui and the guys who have Fantasy Football draft. Watch movie and Gilmore Girls with Jacqui. Knit during movie. Sleep.

Wednesday: Awake. Run. Call Debralyn. Deep clean kitchen. Work on my book. Intimate phone call with best friend. Writing/meetings for International Teams. Process International Teams day with Ron over dinner. Drive Josh to and from church. Knit. Sleep.

Thursday: Awake. Walk. Lead meeting with ten women for Moms with Teens class. Take Josh to doctor. Work on my book. Continue to prepare talk for week one of Moms with Teens class. Knit. Watch movie with Josh. Sleep.

Friday: Awake. Walk. Pack up for the weekend away. Write blog while I wait to go. Meandering drive out west to Galena. Deep clean house. Pause often to enjoy beauty of the woods. Gather hydrangeas for indoors. Have dinner with Ron and Josh downtown. Meander through town. Watch special on 9/11. Sleep.

I won’t continue to list the details of Saturday and Sunday….but they were mostly relational with my husband, son, and father and mother-in-law.

This certainly may be way too much detail for you to read. I had to write it all down, however, for me. I went through this week with a sense of calmness, not panic.

My life has changed dramatically from just a mere three years ago when I was mostly a ‘homeschool’ mom. Now I am eagerly writing my book to encourage women who are facing a season of transition. I am privileged to volunteer with my writing skills to help International Teams tell the stories of  those it seeks to help. To top it off, I have added the responsibility of leading an amazing group of women to provide a class at Willow Creek Community Church for mothers with teens. In the background of my activities, I still seek to grow increasingly in love with Jesus and with the individuals in my family. And I still love being a housewife and doing the repeated tasks that naturally involves.

God has helped me bridge my life that was mostly focused upon the people inside of my house to the life that will increasingly include focus upon people whom I don’t live with day by day. I have been slow to say yes to new opportunities and endeavors because I want what I do to be true to what God is asking me to do. Last week provided me proof that He is giving me all the time to do that which He has asked me to do. And it is true to who He made me to be.

May I join with all of creation that gives Him glory.

“It’s Fly Time”

If you read my last blog, you know that I had a ball riding the Dare Devil Dive with Debralyn. Before we took to the air, I playfully shouted “It’s Fly Time!” I think I embarrassed her by unconsciously mimicing the voice of the man who said it first, but the phrase apparently has stuck. “It’s fly time….”

Years ago I heard a song on the radio called Find Your Wings by Mark Harris. I literally pulled to the side of the road because I couldn’t see through my tears. This has turned into a sort of Bryant family theme song. Here’s the chorus:

I pray that God will fill your heart with dreams                                    

And that faith gives you the courage

To dare to do great things

I’m here for you whatever this life brings

So let my love give you roots

And help you find your wings.

I guess this put words around all those prayers uttered on behalf of my children for years. Roots and wings.

If I am honest, I have to admit that I selfishly am more a fan of roots. Wings inherently include an earthly good-bye that changes things. I know because I just had to do it less than 48 hours ago. And for me, it is never fun to say good-bye.

When people ask me how I am doing with launching another child off to college, I have resisted the ‘expected’ response. You know how it goes…..

“Oh, this is a wonderful opportunity for ______. I am so excited for _________. I can’t wait to see what happens for __________.”

Instead, I put my right hand slightly above my stomach and say that this is the part of me that deeply aches when I have to say good-bye. And it is aching. Isn’t it ok to be honest and just say that it hurts? Even now, I feel like I need to say that I am deeply honored and blessed to watch Debralyn follow God’s calling to Moody Bible Institute. I am 100% convinced that she is supposed to be right there. But, for a little bit of time, I am letting God, people who ‘get’ me, and creation comfort that part of me that aches.

Tears still wait right at the surface and all I have to do is think of my ‘good-bye’ hug with Debralyn. We were standing by the vending machine at the foot of the stairs that leads to her new room. Ron had already held her. Josh followed. What does a mom say to her daughter in that moment? If I hadn’t already said it, there was really little left to say. I probably mumbled some forgettable words of affection. But, I remember stroking her hair….and having that gutteral breathing sound that betrays deep emotion.

Leave it to Debralyn. She grabbed my shoulders and with tears on her cheeks, she said, “Mom….it’s fly time.” I laughed and cried harder. But, she is right. It is fly time. Now I really know why I braved the Dare Devil Dive. It was to remind me constantly that it is her time to fly. And it is my time to ache for the upheaval of her healthy, strong, and deep roots.

Fly high and strong dear daughter!

Arm in Arm

The disassembled pale pink bridesmaid’s dress lay in four pieces across my kitchen table. These weren’t simple pieces either. Each of them had a layer of chiffon covering satin. I knew that I dare not make a mistake putting it all back together. I kept telling myself to be careful with my scissors. After all, it wasn’t denim. Did I mention that it had cost $300?

How quickly self-doubt seeped in. It had seemed quite simple when I told my friend’s daughter that I could make it fit….and save her the $100 alteration fee. Boy did I hope this wasn’t one of my impulsive ‘oops.’

My kitchen was quiet and I was in the mood to tackle this project. I needed both to rip and mark and measure. From one piece to two to three to four. Once the zipper was dangling, I began to really get nervous.  I guess I could fork over the $100 myself to the tailor.

Then Debralyn danced through the kitchen on the way downstairs with two of her friends. She must have intuitively seen the strained look on my face. She’s always been able to read my body language like I’m a large-type book.

“How’s it going Mom?”

“Well…I REALLY hope I can put this all back together right.”

“Mom. There’s nobody else I’d trust more to fix a dress. You got this.”

Then away she went. To help tutor her friend in statistics. (If only you knew how much we are ALL surprised that she would be doing this).

I turned my attention back to the dress. I couldn’t stop hearing her powerful words of confidence. She reminded me of what was true. I could alter this dress. I began to slowly put this dress back together piece by piece by piece. She simply smiled when she saw the pile of fabric hanging like a dress once again. I don’t think I could have done it without her

That was Monday.

A mere 24 hours later brings Debralyn and me to Great America. This is our perfect place to play. Some moms would spend the day with their daughter shopping or getting a mani and pedi. Not us. We like to ride the rides. Waiting in long lines face to face getting to talk is just an added bonus.

Once there Debralyn began to dig around the seed she’d planted a couple of weeks ago.

“Mom. You’d love it. It’s like sky diving. You gotta try it. I know you’d love it.”

I think I mumbled something very noncommittal in return. But she had me thinking about it.

Dare Devil Dive.

I’m not sure how high off of the ground you hang before you free fall, but I think it is in fact the tallest structure in the amusement park. I’ve since read that the free fall would break the speed limit.

We’d already ridden on a roller coaster in the dark. Then she invited me to try a ride that spins you around upside down at the speed of light. I laughed til no sound came out. When we got off, she said, ‘Let’s do it now Mom. There won’t be any line.’

I don’t quite remember what I said, but she heard “OK!” So off we went to the Dare Devil Dive. I honestly wasn’t nervous. Rides don’t do that to me. And I am the mom afterall. Isn’t she supposed to be leaning on me? Funny how time changes things.

Well, since she had done this once before, she began to talk me through it. Details about the harness, the slow float to the top, the sense that nothing is holding you when you plummet toward the ground began to blur in my mind. This, I told myself, is a memory waiting to happen!

So, we got strapped in….placed in this cranelike structure…I was kidding around with the employees. Debralyn and I were hooked together and were instructed to loop elbows and hold each others’ arms. I clearly was the one that took the most comfort from this instruction.

“Fly Time!” I playfully shouted. Up we went. And up we continued to go. I think I said a lot of things to my dear daughter but I honestly have little memory of it. I kept thinking that I clearly hadn’t thought this through. When the people beneath us began to look like lego characters, Debralyn said, “Look around Mom. Isn’t it amazing?” That normally would be something I would say.  I did a quick glance and then kept my eyes focused on the ground. That seems strange to me now as I write it – why would I want to see where I have to go?

Then….the ride operator shouted out “Jes.” (Debralyn wanted to be named Jes)….1…2…3…..

Then my daughter pulled the rip cord. And I didn’t stop screaming until the flight ended. I have little memory of any thoughts other than I didn’t want to let go of Debralyn’s arm.

When we finally were back on terra firma, I slowly began to process what just happened. It took about an hour for my brain to settle down, and I was overwhelmed with how much comfort I took in being linked with Debralyn. I couldn’t have imagined doing it all alone. Even though I wasn’t actually ”terrified” during the flight, my adreneline rush caused me to need to be connected to someone. Tightly.

It hit me like a slap of wind. Two days in a row I leaned on my daughter. Her words about the dress. Her arms during the flight. And I really loved how that felt.

Here I thought I was going to alter a dress to help my neighbor….and I thought I was taking Debralyn to Great America for her. I think I was the winner both days!

Putting Away the Nice Girl

For about ten years, I’ve cried whenever I see an image of a child who is clearly hungry, impoverished, or abandoned. I was baffled because my tears are usually connected to something obvious. I began a journey of asking God to show me what was going on in my own heart.

Random memories began to slowly emerge. I found myself at about age 11 tucked deep in the basement of Plano Bible Church next to it’s library. I always returned to the same book. In the middle of this particular hardcover book were about 16 pages of black and white photos of children in Africa. Many of them had medical deformities that normally would have made me want to look away. Their bellies swelled with what I know now as malnourishment. They had no shoes and no smiles. But, I was captured mostly by their eyes. I couldn’t tell if they were hollow or simply that black. But, every Sunday evening after church and Wednesday night while mom had choir practice, I could be found with that book on my lap. And with some tears in my eyes for these children I would never meet.

Another memory emerged. During college, I said aloud to only a few trusted friends, “I’m going to save the city.” Of course, the exuberance of an older teen  is often unnoticed and misunderstood as was true for me.  And I was also too afraid to make any waves and didn’t know quite what to do with that passion.

Fast forward through 20ish years of marriage, homeschooling three children, keeping our home, and growing to know myself. Seemingly out of nowhere, the tears are coming back. Every time I see one of those precious faces.

I can’t hide my tears from Ron and eventually I asked him to help me sort through the fog. He helped me identify an emerging passion to speak for those that have no voice. How in the world could I do that? Yet, I resonated deeply with his observation and through his encouragement, I began to ask God to open some doors for me to help tell the stories for those who have no voice.

In April of 2009, I attended a series of talks given by Lynne Hybels. I’d been watching her journey into turning compassion into action from afar and wanted a closer view. I sat with goosebumps (not tears) the entire evening as I listened to her share her own story. She challenged us to set aside the script we heard throughout children (“Be a nice girl”) and have the courage to be a good woman. She defined a good woman as a woman who is empowered to discern and live out God’s plan for her life.

I thought I was trying to do that, yet I also saw that fear was getting in the way. My mind began to race.  When it stopped, I was left with a tiny voice of fear. It was then that Lynne boldly proclaimed that ‘good women sing their song even if they are terrified.’

Ok God. I hear You. And I’m still scared. Here’s what I wrote in my journal the next day.

Even though I had already heard Lynne talk about this before, my goosebumps wouldn’t stop. Funny how this tiny physical response gets my attention. So, here’s what’s going on – I think.

God is calling me to speak for those who can’t speak for themselves. I’m terrified. Who are they? Where are they? How will I find them? Who will want to read it? I could debate forever, but unmistakeably, a little African childn’s face causes me to not be able to stop the tears. From my youth, pictures of suffering children caught my eyes. I can still see one vaguely. What do I need to do?

God didn’t answer immediately, but I am moving ahead on a journey of no longer being just a nice girl. I’m volunteering each week for an organization that I am thrilled to partner with, International Teams. (http://www.iteams.org/us/) They exist to bring people together to help the poor, the slave, and the blind. And guess what I get to do? I get to dig around and talk to amazing missionaries and help write stories about the voiceless all around the world. I am able to find out some of the stories behind the faces. Perhaps my use of language will help foster generosity and compassion for those that Jesus gave His life for. I am in awe that just two years ago, I was listening to Lynne speak with my heart pounding and now I get to write words with my heart pounding.

I wanted to post this blog today because International Teams has just launched a fantastic CD project called Songs for the Oppressed. It is a collection of music donated by indie artists and worship leaders who also care deeply about giving voice to those who are overlooked. They care about making us uncomfortable and challening us to ask what we could do to help. I just read Lynne Hybels’ blog about the project (http://lynnehybels.blogspot.com/) and was overwhelmed at how she was able to paint a picture of the heart behind the CD. I agree with her by encouraging you to purchase one of the CDs or download it (www.songsfortheoppressed.org) I have been listening to it repeatedly and have never been prouder to spend part of my time (and my words) speaking for the oppressed. They matter to God. And they ought to matter to us.

So, the secret is out. I am going to live my life even if it requires me to do things that are really hard. I’m done with fear stopping me. I actually am learning that lesson from the very lives of the people that I want to help. Does anyone want to join me in the journey of being good instead of nice?