Mountain Views

Wish I had a better zoom for this. It's an old stone castle called Vikingsholm.

View of the lake from a look out point above Emerald Bay.

Island in Emerald Bay, complete with Tea House, built by the same woman who built Vikingsholm.

Thanksgiving Routines

I have many defaults. Perhaps they are ruts. I’d rather think of them as routines, a slice of comfort in hectic world. I have a default pair of jeans, a default fleece pullover, default shoes, etc. Even a default hair style. I walk and drive the same routes, order the same drink at Starbucks, and pump gas at the station next to a frequented Target.

This is simplicity, it makes my life easier and it’s reassuring.

Sure, I change my routine every now and then. There are additions, minor adjustments. I may go from habitually wearing the sea-green fleece to wearing the fuzzy pink sweater. I might add “fake bangs” so my default pony-tail is not quite so dull. This Saturday, I made scrambled eggs instead of sunny side up. It was wrong, and I won’t make that mistake again.

Yesterday, I realized how extensively this carries over into my spiritual life in the matter of thanksgiving. Obviously, it’s that time of year to consider what I’m grateful for, to thank G-d for His many blessings, etc. I confess that 9 times out of 10 this reflection is done half-heartedly, out of obligation and perhaps insincerely. Sure, I’m thankful for a paycheck, a place live, my friends and family. But as my natural self, I am restless, unsatisfied and discontent. Reflecting on my blessings as things takes me down a destructive road, despondent and selfish.

But it is not the blessings themselves to which we should be responding; it’s the Giver. We see this in Job’s response to his trials.

“Naked I came from my mother’s womb,
And naked I will depart.
The Lord gave and the Lord has taken away;
May the name of the Lord be praised.” (1:21)

And, what I’ve found this Thanksgiving season, reflecting on Him – His holiness, faithfulness, grace, love, mercy, etc., directs my thoughts to the outpourings of His goodness in my life, and what really can be counted as the only true blessings. It is the internal transformation and external manifestations of His presence that are His favor, His blessings, which He freely bestows on all called into fellowship with Him.

Everything else is just stuff.

However, I’m still in default-mode. My cognitive expressions for all spiritual impressions are to worship Him in two manners – song and prayer. And, like all my other defaults, even with fresh eyes, they can still become ruts. Singing quickly becomes something I do in the shower to annoy my loud neighbors. Prayers for small blessings (stuff) are rote and routine. Unless or until it is something Really Big or Important, I do not think to thank Him, thus I fail to reflect on His character, fail to be drawn into His presence and experience the joy of knowing my true blessings.

I’m finding much of what I contemplate goes back to finding rest in His strength. A right understanding and response to His blessings requires drawing into His presence and acting out of His transforming power.

“And whatever you do, whether in word or deed, do it all in the name of the Lord Jesus, giving thanks to G-d the Father through him.” Col. 3:17

Bells and Boots

Did not wake up to the three alarms set for 3:45am. Woke up at 5:47 for a 6:00 flight. Oops. Made it to the airport by 6:30 and flew stand-by on an 8:20 flight to Dallas. Then, it was on to Reno, baby. Icky. You know you're in Nevada when the airport has slot machines as soon as you step off the plane. And, the "Spirit of Christmas" here is a cabaret show with women scantily clad in Santa suits. Gag.

But at least now I'm surrounded by pine trees, in fresh mountain air with breathtaking views.

And, I now have my birthday present! Aren't they cute? ;)

I'm that good

Mission: Pack for 4 days in one backpack.

Backpack contains: laptop, jeans, two sweaters, two shirts, socks & stuff, camera, 4 Christmas presents (all books), and one quart-sized Ziploc bag with all my 3 oz (or less) toiletries. Bible and iPod will also fit. The trick is to not pack shoes.

And the streak of never checking baggage continues...

Imposing Tastes

I was once told that when shopping for presents, you should pick something you would like, in case the gift makes its rounds and ends up regifted to you. The implied thought is that the person purchasing the gifts has superior taste, and therefore anything they pick will be liked by all. If I did this, everyone I know and love would get kittens for Christmas. (Heavily laden with sarcasm.)

I think there is something to buying something you'd like, but more important to buy something your friend/dad/cousin/mob boss will like as well.

This year, I'm going with a theme for my gifts: Books. This would be simple if I let myself buy all the books I love. But I've applied rules to my present buying. One, it cannot be a book I just "like." Which ruled out all C.S. Lewis and Jane Austen. Second, it cannot be something I desperately want to read. Three, it has to be a book I really think the other person would enjoy, i.e., an interest of theirs, their favorite author/poet, even (don't fret Julie) cheesy novels. My final rule is really to protect my bank account: I must refrain from purchasing more than one book for myself per trip to the bookstore. This is the hardest rule to keep, and I must be careful not to justify excessive trips to Barnes and Noble.

Out of practical concerns, I also have to take into consideration that most of these presents will be shipped to Missouri, California and Illinois, so size and cover are factors. Actually, on Tuesday, I'll be shoving the four books for my family in Cali into my suitcase, and dragging them with me for Thanksgiving so my parents can keep them for a few weeks (and I don't have to mail them later).

I've already broken rules two and (inadvertently) four. I bought a book that V recommended (and thus I wanted to peruse) for my Dad. He decided he just wants the latest Harry Potter (hum).

So, I guess it pays to buy presents you like after all!

Social Justice

But let justice roll on like a river, righteousness like a never-failing stream (5:24)

I've always associated Amos with calls for social justice, and certainly it's in there, loud and clear. The beginning slams the nations surrounding Israel for their mass-murder sprees and enemy bloodshed. As for the Israelites sins, they are personal, local, intimate. They do not take care of their own - and do not remember their history with the Lord.

Amos highlights injustice and social responsibility, but the central theme is the judgement of sin, and G-d's complete abhorrence for Israel's self-righteousness.

Israel's heart is unholy, their offerings are a disgusting insult to G-d's character. He despises them for their contempt, but He will not let them destroy themselves. What shocked me most when reading Amos was the salvific nature of the Exile.

Here is His threat to rip them from the Land - from the Promise, from the presence of the Lord Himself, all intricately connected. Because all other attempts to get their full and undivided attention have failed:

I gave you empty stomachs (4:6)

I also withheld rain from you (4:7)

Many times I struck your gardens and vineyards (4:9)

I sent plagues among you as I did in Egypt (4:10)

Yet you have not returned to me (4:6, 8, 9, 10, 11)

The Exile served to take the Israelites away from the very things that had once served as signs of their chosenness. The Land, the Temple, their community as the People of G-d. He tells them point-blank: Seek me and live (5:4), because all else are now sources of false righteousness, separating them from G-d through sin.

He scatters them from the Land of promise, cutting them off from their vain house of worship and each other. But just as He promises to destroy, through His holy and just providence, a remnant is declared. Both the Exile and the Remnant are provisions of Grace under the Law. The Exile is deserved (if not merciful) and necessary; the Remnant is a testament of His relentless and passionate pursuit of His people.

The Israelites did not warrant this provision any more than you or I deserve to be made righteous through faith by Grace.

I Will Sing

I will sing for the meek

For those who pray with their very lives for peace

Though they're in chains for a higher call

Their mourning will change into laughter when the nations fall

In spirit poor

In mercy rich

They hunger for Your righteousness

Their hearts refined in the purity

Lord let me shine for them

Lord let me sing

Lord let me shine for them

Lord let me sing

(-Rich Mullins. Caedmon's has a live version with Hope to Carry On on iTunes)

Conversations from the Hike

There's nothing like a brisk fall day with a good friend to stir up some lively conversations. Here's some excerpts.

Julie (to man in Visitor's Center): Can you tell me how to get to Jefferson's Rock?
Man: Up the stairs, by the church.
J: And, my friend told me there was a long loop around Harper's Ferry...what's it called?
Man: (irritated) It's called the Appalachian Trail.

In fairness to the man we made fun of the rest of the afternoon, it really is the Appalachian Trail Loop Around Harper's Ferry (full name). But he was still a tad rude about it.

Julie: So, if you could spend money on a house, a car or traveling, what would you pick?
Me: Well, I'd like to say traveling, but I know that's not being honest. I wouldn't have the most extravagant house, but I'm sure I'd spend quite a bit on the decorum.
J: Oh, so you want to have the refinished basement with the pool table?
Me: Of course. And darts, and a snack bar. I want to be the cool mom in the neighborhood. So all the kids will hang out at my house. I'll always have Chex mix and fruit punch, but no soda.
J: Ah, yes, because you will be a conscientious mom, so all the other moms will like you.
Me: Exactly. And I'll take in my teenage son's troubled friends when they get kicked out of their houses.
J: Like your friend's parents did for you?
Me: Yep. Except I wasn't really troubled.
J: Would you live in the suburbs, the city or the country?
Me: I want to live in the suburbs and drive a Volvo and vote Republican. Did I just say that?
J: Yes, you did. How about you drive a Hybrid and vote Democrat.
Me: How about I drive a hybrid Volvo and vote Independent? Can we still be friends then?
J: I guess, but only if you don't wear your cowboy boots while voting.
Me: Cowgirl boots, and why not?

J: How far do you think we hiked today?
Me: Not as far as Kate and I walked last week at the Marine Corps Marathon. Four miles, maybe.
J: Ah, three and a half.
Me: Yes, but it will turn into eight miles on my blog.
J: Sixteen miles together, eight miles each. We have to get our stories straight.

So for the record, we hiked 20 miles each, uphill both ways.

Harper's Ferry

Jefferson's Rock (kind of lame)

Bambi. Look closely. There were actually three deer about 15 feet away from us, but some stupid hikers made a ruckus and they ran away before I could get a better shot - I mean picutre.

From Jefferson's Rock.

In this view are West Virginia, Virginia and Maryland. I have no idea which ridge is which state. :)