Three Sisters in the Garden--A Lesson On The Value of Sisterhood from the Garden

    It was an unlikely place for a free garden class.  A theater.  I’d been in this small dark theater a few times before to see a few quirky, sophisticated plays, but tonight I was there to learn the basics of organic gardening at high altitude. Living in the mountains at 7,000 ft. elevation gives an entirely different dimension to gardening, and I was there as an eager student excited to learn about this seemingly secret world.  

    My teacher, a diminutive dentist by profession, excitedly told us about his thriving summer vegetable garden.  Vividly describing his multi-colored heirloom tomatoes, fragrant herbs, and other unusual vegetables grown from seed, his passion for this unknown world to me began to unfold.  He waxed about ways to keep fragile, tender plants alive at high altitude during monsoon rains, wind storms, and unusually short growing seasons.  His excitement was quickly contagious and before long I was imagining my wooded, undeveloped backyard as a luscious vegetable garden.  Just about the time my imagination was taking me right out of the room he turned to the gardeners in the audience and began to question them.    

    “So, how do you grow your corn plants?” he asked one of the students, peering over his retro looking glasses.  

    “The three sisters,” she quickly replied.  He nodded.  In fact just about everyone in the class nodded with knowing looks.  Although I tried to give a knowing look to fit in, the truth was I had no idea what the three sisters were.

    Again, a question came up about growing beans.  Once again the three sisters was mentioned.  Hummmm…..this time I wrote the phrase down, determined to find out what everyone in the class seemed to know but me, and just exactly what this three sisters was all about.    

    More questions, this time about squash.  Ditto squash; the three sisters were mentioned once again for squash.  Okay, I was really intrigued at this point.  Was this some kind of fertilizer, a type of container,  a way of arranging seeds in the ground?  What exactly were they talking about?  

    Once inside my front door I dashed to the computer and typed those three magic words into the search engine.  The. Three. Sisters.  Voila.  Lots of answers and information popped onto the screen and I read with curious delight.

    Used by the Native Americans for centuries, the three sisters is a very old method of planting corn, beans, and squash together to provide a better crop from each plant than they would provide alone. Working together they help one another maximize growth and contribute to one another in fascinating ways.  

    It works like this.  The first sister is corn.  Corn is a large, strong plant with a tall sturdy stalk that enables it to hold its heavy ears of corn as they grow. As a large plant though it needs lots of energy, especially nitrogen, from the soil. Corn is called a heavy feeder, and much like a linebacker would need lots of calories while training and playing in season, corn needs lots of nutrients to do its work as well.  Grown alone it requires a lot of feeding and attention to produce its fruit, corn. In some ways it’s a rather high maintenance plant.   

    However, beans, the second sister, are a lanky vine plant that needs a ladder or trellis for support to provide its best crop.  Without some kind of ladder for support, these vines fall on the ground and ultimately never produce as many beans as they do when supported.  However, in contrast with the corn’s high nitrogen needs, beans actually fix nitrogen into the soil.  In an amazing way, they actually add the very nutrient that their sister, corn, needs so heavily.  So, when beans are planted next to corn they use the corn stalks for their support, winding their fragile vines around corn’s sturdy stalk, yet underground, they are supporting the corn, by adding extra nitrogen for the corn to feed on.  Thus they work together like loving sisters--each contributing and leaning on the other for each plant’s benefit.  

    But the love keeps growing among these sisters when you throw in a squash plant.  As the third sister, squash adds yet another dimension to maximize these three crops.   Squash, with their enormous leaves and large yellow blossoms., fan out and hover near the ground.  As they grow and sprawl they shade the ground beneath them, keeping it moist, and when planted at the base of both beans and corn they provide a shade cloth of sorts for all three plants.  As an added bonus, their lush yellow flowers also attract pollinators every fruit bearing plant in the garden so desperately needs.

    The three sisters--corn, beans, and squash.  Three very different plants with three very different designs, but when planted together help each other grow and become more fruitful than when planted alone.  Such a beautiful picture of God’s design for us and the world.

So, Who Are Your Sisters?

     Reflecting on the three sisters has led me to examine the sisters in my garden. Who quietly feeds me underground?  Who do I lean on?  And who gives me shade? Do I reciprocate, or do I stand proudly alone imagining my solitary existence a badge of honor and self importance?

     The truth is that far too often I stumbled through life trying to do everything myself, failing to recognize how much I needed other people in my life to feed, nourish, and support me.  I mistakenly thought that doing it all by myself showed my strength and valor, maybe even, gulp, my superiority.  Reluctant to ask for help, let alone acknowledge I desperately needed help, I floundered, but worked very hard to cover it up with a mask of bold independence and self-sufficiency.  

     At the same time, while I often did do things for others, I never saw it as God’s beautiful design for blissful reciprocity.  Giving was less about being part of a team, and more about my inflated sense of self and and grandiosity  Something along the lines of big me giving to little you. An vain lie if ever there was one.
Ultimately, what was the price for growing my individual plant alone in the garden?  Smaller fruit.  A stressed plant.  And a plant missing out on the beautiful, natural design created not only for my benefit, but for the benefit of all the plants in the garden.   

     Here’s the truth-- we were designed by our Creator both to contribute and to need one another in order to grow and perform optimally in this world. .  Each of us is a unique sister in the garden of life,  and we are most fruitful when we joyfully and expectantly live together, giving and taking the best from one another, yielding a more bountiful and beautiful harvest in the end.      

Fakebook, Be the Person You Want To Be- Paula Dean, Image, and Me

    

Lately, I get a lot of questions about why I haven’t been writing on my blog.  I have a lot of pat answers, usually something about being crazy busy, but if I’m being truly honest, some of it has to do with the transparency that comes with writing a real, raw blog post.  We live in a world where perceived image is king and having flaws, weaknesses, past mistakes, and vulnerabilities are not acceptable.  A Fakebook (aka: Facebook) world encourages us to untag, cover up, and delete anything that makes us look bad from from public view.  With a little skillful planning we can be the person we want to be publicly.  Moreover, it seems we crave this kind of unreality as we pay greatly for and value the images our actors and public figures provide.  On the other hand, watch out for image busters as they are cruel and punitive. You may even be punished for life, especially if your image gets attached to something politically incorrect or unfashionable.

    Present case in point-- Paula Dean.  Her public image was obliterated in one fell swoop when she admitted to using the n word in the past, and on occasion engaging in racist humor.  In a moment of candor under oath, she effectively destroyed her sweet Southern image of perfection.  It--her image--was the foundation of her multi-million dollar empire.  Almost immediately, the people who had ridden her coattails to fortune realized they could no longer sell her new, tarnished image and they turned their backs on her faster than you could  say, "deep fried ice cream."

   Okay, let’s be real.  Paula Dean was born in Albany, Georgia in 1947.  Given that she grew up in a time and place known for its ignorant and extreme racism did anyone assume it could never hold a place in her heart? That her character and attitudes were totally above reproach in every possible way? Did anyone honestly believe that a woman who hid a cigarette habit and Type 2 diabetes from the public for years had no other secrets?  No other possible skeletons in her closet? 

    Here’s the unspoken truth--Paula's image made us believe that cooking her way could make us happy. Watching Paula laugh and smile and cook on screen she made us believe--and oh, how we wanted to believe--that sticks and sticks of butter and fried foods would be a path to joy. For a moment we could be cooking in her homey kitchen, enjoying pure deliciousness with laughter, and nothing else would matter. And for crying out loud, we have a rough life, we deserve it.  Butter and mega calories, bring 'em on baby!  I feel so much better about my life just thinking about that kind of fun.

Now, just for the record, I am not minimizing the use of the n word.  It’s wrong on every level,  but that wasn’t Paula’s real crime, the one that got her fired. Her real crime was tarnishing her image.  The one we loved.  The one we wanted.  The one we needed to believe if we wanted to continue to idolize an ordinary person and make our unhealthy choices look good. Image sells, convinces, and persuades, and culturally, image is far more important than reality.

Actors and image- 
       

    Along those same lines, just last week I read a review for the movie, This Is The End, described by The Arizona Republic  as, “end-times satire, profane, but devilishly funny.”  Curious about a movie where “some people are beamed up into the heavens by a bright light,” and touted as a satire of Hollywood, celebrity culture, and self-centered hedonism I read on.  A couple of sentences in the review caught my attention.  “The stage is set early on, when someone says they will be fine, because who do they rescue first?  Actors.  Because they make people feel better.”

    Yes, it’s true.  We are a culture where actors make us feel better.  We love and adore images of unreality and idolize those who create them for us.  We especially value ones based on pure fantasy and wishful thinking.  Super heroes, super models, and super sized portions dazzle and delight us.  We reward them handsomely and seek to be like them in every way possible.

The dark side of our images-

    There is a heavy price we pay for worshiping images though.  It is the skeleton in our collective closet.  It’s dark and deep and destructive.  Our obsession with images, and creating them for ourselves, lead us to present ourselves in ways that deny our true selves.  Authentic humanity is against the rules so we mask our insecurities, mistakes, and struggles.  We smile and stay polite, wearing our best Fakebook image, churchy image, or whatever floats-your-boat image.  We’re on it, and we are ever so good at it. 

    Moreover, we lie to ourselves about the choices we make and drown in the downstream of their consequences.  We eat too much, drink too much, and sleep too little.  Then, we pop pills to wake up, to sleep, to have sex, and to mask the demons of depression and anxiety that reside in our souls.  We smile and stay polite, wearing our best Fakebook image, never telling those around us we struggle or presenting our flaws to the world. Of course, we can’t tell other people the truth, because we don’t even tell the truth to ourselves.

An alarming rise in suicide among adults, as well as prescription pain pill abuse and addiction, continue to make their mark on our society.  We are the first generation who may live shorter lives than our parents because we can’t stop eating, drinking, spending, and using anything and everything to live large and numb our aching hearts.  We ignore the inconvenient truth--our choices have consequences.  All of them.  And in the process we have lost touch with ourselves, as well as authentic relationships, nature, real food, the value of rest, and the total acceptance and love offered by a true and living God.  

    

So why don’t I write more often?

    Here’s my truth--I have cultivated a lot of wisdom and things from my journey with God that have enriched my life and would actually enrich yours as well.  I really do have a lot to share with you that might benefit or edify you in some way.  My experiences and advice could help you avoid mistakes, regrets, or dumb choices.  I could make you think about things in a new way, but that requires I keep it real.  I have to spill the beans and tattle on myself and the world around me.  I have to pull the curtain back on the Wizard of Oz, and see he’s just a guy (or in this case just a girl) behind the curtain.  I would have to destroy my image. There, I’ve said it.  My carefully crafted Fakebook image would have to go. 

    You would need to know that I’m flawed beyond words.  I still argue with my husband and kids from time to time, much too loudly (dear God, please don’t tell me the neighbors heard us!)  An occasional cuss word still comes out of my lips, and I can be miserably careless with my words.  Add impatient, vain, and selfish to the list, and that’s just a start.  Skeletons in my closet?  Oh, please don’t even go there. 

    Bottom line, I’m just a total messed up sinner saved by the graceful, unmerited and unfathomable kindness of Jesus.  I am not an image, “religious ” person, church lady, shrink, or anyone you would want to copy. That image of perfection belongs to God, and God alone.  When I really let that sink in, it’s a huge relief. I can let Him be Him, and I can just be me.  And it’s the strangest thing, but He doesn’t drop me (or you) when I mess up my image.  He loves me right where I’m at. 

I will add this,  I’ve discovered God loves us too much to let us stay in our messes; He wants to fix our problems and He knows how to fix them.  So, invited, He comes into our hearts and changes things.  He softens those hard edges and shows us better ways to live. But He never leaves when our image gets tarnished.

So, here it is--if you want to read blog posts by someone like me, I'll try to keep it honest. Raw. Real. I'll share with you the path I've been on and where it's led me--good and bad-- and you may just learn something in the process. But, if you need my image to make you feel good you better check in with Hollywood and mainstream culture.  I understand they’re really good at creating fantastic and unrealistic images for you to savor, but just don't forget, those images are a lie and in the end they'll rob you blind.

Sucking Up Unyielding Newspaper In a Snowblower

Stubbornness--For Good or Evil?

Snow, snow, and more snow seems to be the theme around here lately.  Just when I get to thinking that I can enjoy walking my spirited border collie outside in some sunshine, here comes another dreary storm.  Initially, after moving here from a sunny climate nearly 15 years ago, I delighted in the wonder of changing seasons, including the snowy winters here in Northern Arizona. Of course, my children were little then and snow meant sledding, snowhuts, hot chocolate, and snowmen in my front yard.  It also meant I had extra hands to share in the tasks of clearing the snow away.  Snow was rather romantic to me then and didn’t seem like a burden. 

However, with the passing of time, my “snowmance” --my romance with snow-- has waned.  Now I peek out my front window in the dark, early morning hours to size up just how much snow has fallen because that translates into just how much work awaits  to clear the snow from our driveway and sidewalks.  To complicate things our home faces north, which means we have a beautiful view of the snowy peaks from our living room window, but during the winter the sun never comes up high enough to naturally melt the snow. If I ever want to leave the house in my car it means the snow has to be cleared off the driveway.  It means work.  End of story. 

So last week, after a heavy snowfall, I looked outside to the heaps of snow outside and faced my morning job with a bit of resignation.  My husband was out of town working, and my daughters were all away, living their lives away from Flagstaff.  The workhorse this particular morning was me.  Just me.

    I happily consoled myself by getting out the oversized snowblower my husband had fueled and ready to go.  Before I started it up I trudged across the snow to pick up a newspaper I saw peeking out of the snow.  I looked for the other newspaper we have delivered, but I saw no traces of it.  I figured it didn’t make it up from Phoenix in the snow--a common occurrence during snowstorms.  I put in my earplugs, pumped the machine, and started it up.  I slowly pushed it and used the chute to blow the snow in the direction I wanted it to stay.  I had barely made one good sweep out to the road when I suddenly heard a horrible, grinding noise.  Oh no.  Nothing ever good comes from a sound like that!  I turned off the machine, looked at the bottom and only saw impacted snow.  So, foolishly, I now see in retrospect, I turned it on again, and quickly heard the same horrid sound.  Off it went again, and when I turned it over, voila, my problem appeared.  The other newspaper, dressed in an orange plastic shield, was sucked right into the blower.  It now looked huge and wouldn’t budge.  The plastic made it even more intractable.  The reality of my situation sunk in slowly.  I had really messed up  (innocently, but badly) and no matter how much I tried to undo it the paper wasn’t budging.  I tried and tried to get the paper out of the blower (this involved pliers, warm water to dissolve the paper, scissors, and any other implement I thought might help me dislodge it) ,and I managed to get out little chunks, but the main part blocking the blades was not yielding.  It stubbornly took its place and wasn’t going to move for anything or anyone.  

    After working for over an hour, I resigned myself to my fate, got out a shovel, and went to work.  I came in around lunchtime exhausted, nursing a sore shoulder, and fantasized how I might become one of those snowbirds who manages to avoid the winter season in a snowy climate.

Stubbornness versus Yielding-- 

     My power struggle with the newspaper, jammed in my snowblower, has had me thinking a lot about the notions of submission and yielding versus stubbornness and obstinacy.  From discussions about demanding babies to strong-willed adults, these themes have been presenting themselves to me lately.  Inevitably, refusing to bend always shows up in a power struggle and conflict.  While holding your position may sometimes be a noble and courageous act, it can also be a mask for utter selfishness and a desire to control others. Yet, bottom line, yielding versus non-yielding is a choice we make that always has consequences.  Moreover, it’s a powerful choice and one we should make with utmost care and consideration.  The question becomes--if I yield or submit will it be for greater good, such as fostering a relationship or outcome, or will it be out of lack of courage, weakness, and lead to wrong or undesirable outcomes?

   We need to remind ourselves, and teach our children, that we don’t necessarily want a submissive or a stubborn spirit.  We want to have the ability to choose to submit or choose to be stubborn for all the right reasons.  For God.  For other’s best.  For teamwork. For righteousness. For love.  For goodness.
   Likewise, there are situations when we must say no.  We need to stand our ground and not be moved.  We need to summon all the courage we have and refuse to participate in evil, injustice, cruelty, and even complacency.  
   Probably far too often, we need to yield and give up our selfish desires, deliberately and intentionally saying no to ourselves and yes to God and others.  However, there are other times when saying yes to God and others will mean we need to stay stubborn, strong, and unmoved like the unyielding newspaper (which, by the way, was only removed with a hacksaw.) The choice is ours.  The choice is powerful.  Let us pray we have the integrity to make the right choice.

   

     

Composting Carrots on a Snowy Day and Life’s Experiences

January 2013--

    A new year.  A new beginning.  Anticipation.  Opportunities.  Ushering in a new year is always filled with emotions of all kinds.  It signifies an open door.  What waits behind that door are many things that will surprise us--both good and bad.  How will we respond?  And on a grander scale, how will we mesh the past with the present to forge a new future?  How will 2012, and years past, serve as fuel for the pages to be written of 2013?

Peeling carrots, glittery snow, and composting--

    Creating the look of extravagant bling, bright sun shining on the snow makes it glitter a silvery sheen, giving me a beautiful show outside my kitchen window.  In fact, the view out every window in my house provides some version of this dazzling display.  Heaps of snow cover the ground, as well as any low lying plants or shrubs.  Raised garden beds and pots in my backyard look like they’ve been deliberately covered with snowy blankets so they can sleep warmly. Tiny edges of wood on the raised beds, and slivers of deep red pot edges peak out, but clearly they’ve been tucked in for a long winter’s nap.

    Watching how the sun’s rays enhance the show of nature’s bling outside, I peel carrots.  A menial task, but necessary for the vegetable soup I’m hoping to make this afternoon.  Hot, fragrant soup is the perfect antidote to feeling a bit trapped inside because outside temperatures have dropped so low.  As I scrape the carrots, I strategically take the peels that fall off and place them in a small bright kelly-green bucket that sits on my kitchen counter.  The top of this unique little plastic bucket has a flower shape cut-out that hides a carbon filter, especially designed to discretely keep out unwanted odors.  Methodically, I collect these delicate peels, as well as all kinds of other kitchen scraps, such as banana peels, spoiled or brown lettuce, and used coffee grounds to add to a larger pile that is silently cooking in a large black plastic compost bin in my backyard.  These unwanted leftovers are a magic kind of ingredient to create fuel for next season’s garden. As if by magic, they will naturally break down and cook into a perfect food--deep, brown, rich soil-- for the next generation of flowers, vegetables, and beauty outside.  Although they look like useless garbage they clearly are not.  Rather, they are still teeming with life--life to give in the next season.

About Composting--

    The principle of composting is the natural process of decomposition.  All organic matter eventually breaks down, but it remains organic living matter. Nature was designed to recycle leftover, spoiled, or seemingly dead materials and use them as the perfect food for the next cycle of growth.  The pile of dead leaves under your oak tree will break down and add living nutrients to the soil under the tree for the next season of growth.  My unwanted carrot peels, spoiled apple pieces, or used coffee grounds will also break down and form a deep rich espresso-brown soil that will be teeming with living nutrients needed for any and all kinds of future seeds and plants to grow and thrive on.

    You see, our Creator designed a perfect plan for our waste.  The truth is that He never planned for us to put our waste into plastic bags that wouldn’t decompose for nearly a century, or to flush them down the drain, but rather that we would allow them to break down and be used again to replenish and nourish the soil which would in turn, provide our sustenance in the next season.  Our scraps, leftovers, and even rotting food, were meant to feed us once again by putting the organic, living matter back into the soil.  You see, the quality of the soil is paramount to growing anything and everything.

It’s the soil, stupid!

     To fully grasp why composting is such a big deal you need to understand a basic premise of gardening and farming. Much like the political slogan, "it's the economy, stupid,"  seasoned gardeners will tell you a similar parallel is true in gardening.  “It's the soil, stupid.” A basic principle you learn in gardening 101 is that you don't feed the plant, you feed the soil. Adding any and all kinds of organic matter to the soil is key to getting just about any plant to thrive.  Sure, water and sunlight are necessary, but the bottom line in whether your garden will be lush and fruitful, or pitiful and barren, is the quality of the soil.  

       Composting is actually very simple.  You collect last season's dead leaves, twigs, branches (carbon) as well as kitchen scraps, such as orange peels, coffee grounds, the lettuce you accidentally let go bad, or even grass clippings (nitrogen) into a big messy pile and you just let time do it's thing.  What looks like disgusting spoiled broccoli to you, or a mess of dead leaves on your lawn, will decompose into beautiful living soil.  Sure, it works best when you mix it up regularly and keep it moist, but I've discovered that you can neglect all the rules and it still works every time. Last year's dead stuff will decompose into perfectly rich and deep brown soil, teeming with life and ready for use in the next season's garden. 
Composting Our Experiences--
As I think about the new year before me I want to do the same thing with my life experiences.  I want to collect all the things that have happened, both to me and because of me, and use them to walk through my future with greater wisdom, peace, and perspective.  All those mistakes and regrets--into the compost pile they go to break down and provide life for the next season.  Anger at that person who hurt me so long ago, anger I've been hiding in a prison within my heart for far too long, is also going into the compost pile this year.  No longer will that experience get stuffed in a plastic bag, never to break down, but rather it’s intentionally going into the pile where it will gradually break down into pieces of insight, compassion, and forgiveness.  My life experiences with marriage, motherhood, friendship, and God.  Ditto.  Into my compost pile for the forces of nature, God, and time to do their thing, decomposing into beautiful rich organic material that will be the food for seeds sown for a new harvest in a new season of life.  Broken relationships, as well as joyful moments, can all serve as nourishment and growth for the next step in our journey if we will let them. We were meant to use our life’s experiences to enrich the next season, not to keep us enslaved in fear, bitterness, guilt, or grief.  Those emotions will come, but the healthy, natural way of things is to allow them to be recycled and reused, eventually providing a rich soil for a better more bountiful harvest in the next season of life.           

   

WHAT NOT TO WEAR, On Your Heart 
Advice from the Trenches

     Changing and updating one's outward appearance is the goal of the TV show, What Not To Wear. If you haven't caught this show on TLC it goes something like this--an unsuspecting woman (or occasional man) is turned in by her friends and family for the way she dresses and looks.  Generally, the person presents herself to the world as something other than classy, fashionable, and professional.  The crimes range from too much cleavage and vulgar sexiness, to plain old frumpiness. Once the person is targeted for the makeover, secret videos are recorded as this person goes through life.  Of course, the secret footage highlights their "presentation crimes" in all their glory and are shown to the selected fashion disaster to convince her that she really needs and deserves some help.  The fashion advisors, Stacy London and Clinton Kelly, offer the person $5,000. if they will put their wardrobe, hair, and makeup in their hands for self-improvement and and an updated look.  As these TV shows go, the person immediately sees their desperate need, although at times reluctantly, and agrees to the intervention.  Generally, at the end of the show the person returns to their friends and family with a new more flattering wardrobe, haircut, and makeup.  Here's the interesting part--to change the outward appearance requires some inner change.  It requires the person to look within and see just why they are presenting themselves they way they are.  Just why were they dressing like a waitress at Hooters, or like a wallflower left behind at the school dance?  What was in deep their heart that was showing itself to the world so clearly.  To embrace changes, even very positive changes, requires a lot of soul searching, self-examination, and a willingness to see things in a new way. 

     

     Outer behavior and tough inner change brings me to the point of this post. You see, I celebrated my 24th wedding anniversary this week.  That is a very long time in one's life to walk alongside another human being.  To make babies with that person.  To see him or her in every conceivable situation.  To see the very best, and the very worst, in that person and allow them to see the same things in you.  It's a big deal.  A very big deal. That said, it was a struggle in so many ways.  A journey of self-discovery, truths and deceptions, as well as unexamined expectations and beliefs. I would be the biggest hypocrite if I didn't tell you that along this path I have accumulated a huge book of regrets.  A book written on my heart that sometimes taunts and hurts me.  So many things I did and said I now wish I could undo, as well as so many things I just failed to do and say.  But my book of regrets would have no meaning if I didn't take a hard look inside and see what I have learned.  Like inappropriate or dowdy clothes that need to be thrown in the garbage, the attitudes and beliefs that led me to the regretful behaviors need to be dumped and replaced if the journey is going to improve and reflect who I am today.  As one with a colossal book of regrets, I offer myself to you now as an advisor, and hope I can entice you to be willing to look within, to God, and to your heart, and make some positive changes.  Changes that might spare you another page in your book of regrets. Changes that might give you an all new look.  

     One useful thing I can offer you is to carefully examine what you believe is the foundation and purpose of your relationship.  Be honest.  What exactly do you expect to get from being in a relationship, or marriage, with someone?  Are you looking for someone to make you happy by adding to your life in some tangible ways, more than you're thinking of what you have to add to their life?  Could it be that you are believing this person will be a mirror to validate you, adore you, and never have a thought or desire contrary to yours?  Or perhaps, that they will help you fulfill your dreams and goals?  Are you believing that your aim is to find your soulmate?  Here's my take on that--soulmates are not discovered, but rather cultivated. 

     The popular fantasy perpetuated by movies, television, and dating websites (ones that make big bucks, I might add) is that you are in search of your perfect soulmate.  The one who is perfect for you.  The one you who is a perfect fit for you and your dreams in every possible way.  Please don't shoot this messenger, but may I tell you the truth? There is no perfect soulmate waiting for you to discover him or her.  There are really great people out there who have a lot of qualities that would contribute to a happy committed life, such as faithfulness, kindness, compassion, diligence, a desire to learn, and a desire to love and serve God.  On the other hand, there people out there who have qualities that definitely won't wear well in the long run, such as selfishness, impulsiveness, addictive behavior, arrogance, laziness, unfaithfulness, and hostility to God and all authority. These negative qualities should be total and complete deal breakers right up front.  Don't enter into marriages with anyone whose life is marked by these qualities. I can tell you definitively, these qualities, both good and bad, will mark your life with someone in more ways than I can say. 

     That said, nobody is going to be perfect for you.  Will some be a better fit? Yes. Will someone come along who seems like the best fit?  Yes.  But, perfect fit?  No.  Nor will they necessarily see things the way you do, always adore you, and make you happy day in and day out.  That's unrealistic and if you go into a relationship hoping for those things to occur you will surely be very, very disappointed and ultimately leave in search of your "true" soulmate.  Your search will never end because that person does not exist. 

      Dictionary.com defines soulmate as "a person with whom one has a strong affinity, shared values and tastes, and often a romantic bond."   So, my single friends, I offer you this--(taking the negative deal breaker qualities out of the equation entirely) look for someone with whom you have a mutual romantic spark, shared values and tastes, and cultivate a romantic bond.  Married friends, once you have made that choice, spend your life doing all the things that will develop and sustain a strong affinity for one another, shared values and tastes, and a hardcore romantic bond. Don't allow outside relationships of any kind that don't encourage your marriage completely.  Friends, flirtations, and outside relationships, that do anything to undermine your satisfaction with your partner, or encourage fantasies that exclude your mate, are self-destructive and dangerous.  Also, if others think you two look more like brother and sister than lovers and friends, you have a problem.  Cultivate your romance and friendship and don't ever let your friends, co-workers, or acquaintances get the best you, while your spouse gets your dark side.  

     Finally, stop asking yourself, like the old Janet Jackson song, "what have you done for me lately?"  Instead, ask yourself, "what have I done for you lately?"  Think a whole lot more of what you have to contribute to the relationship, and the other person's well-being, and a whole lot less of what you're hoping they'll do for you or probably haven't done for you.  Look for ways to make your partner smile.  Look for ways to make them feel safe.  Look for ways they need your help and affection.  Look, look, and look some more for ways to enhance and show love to your partner. 

     If you're reading this I believe it's not an accident.  Perhaps, if you're like me, God is showing you some secret footage of how you really appear, and maybe you're not entirely liking what you see.  Perhaps, it's time for an updated approach and look.  Perhaps, it's time to purposefully and intentionally make some changes--changes in your heart that will eventually show in your outward behavior.  Changes that will bless you, and ultimately leave you with a bit smaller book of regrets.  Perhaps it's time.

Your Dance, Your Way?

     A tribal drum beat sets the rhythm as the mood of the music fills my heart with excited emotion.  Following the movements of my Nia teacher, I dance with delight across the shiny wood floor in bare feet.  The movement serves to release recent anxieties and tensions that have been stealing my joy.  As the song continues to crescendo, I dance with more abandon, trying to block out the faces of the other dancers who surround me in the room.  While the class is described by my Nia instructor as a blend of dance, martial arts, and healing arts, another fellow dancer once described it as feeling like a kid running through the sprinklers on a hot summer day.  I relate to this latter description. To this middle aged woman, raised in church schools where dance was taboo, it feels like a happy dance of liberation. Exhilarating freedom for my body, mind, and soul. 

   

     Gliding through the room, the music shifts to a middle eastern melody and suddenly my mind remembers when all the Israelite women followed Miriam with tambourines and exuberant dancing, praising God for the miracle of deliverance from both Egypt and the Red Sea.  Can you imagine?  There may have been more than half a million women dancing with joy! (600,000 Israelite men left Egypt.(Ex. 12:37; 15:20.)  What an extraordinary moment that must have been!  I imagine myself as one of those women, dancing awestruck with a thrilled heart alongside my tribe of grateful sisters.  Moving to the melody my mood soars as I think of all the countless ways God has delivered me.

     As another song unfolds my teacher suddenly cups her ear and says to us, "listen for the flute."  Soon, a flute liltingly begins to play the melody as my teacher gives us a new command, "Your dance, your way."  She then stops demonstrating choreographed moves and seems to get lost in her own little dance.  We are all left to move as we please for this section of the song.  Initially, this is rather jolting.  Our dance, our way?  My dance, my way?  What exactly does that look like?  What is my dance?  My way?  

     Tentatively, I move to the beat.  Eventually, I find myself increasingly going faster and faster, my gestures eventually painting a picture from the recesses of my heart.  I realize how vital it is to block out the faces of those who surround me, lest I look to them in comparison.  Lest I look to them to see how well I'm fitting in the group.  Lest I look to them to evaluate myself or them--eliciting undeserved pride or scorn, depending on the evaluation. Any attempt to compare myself with another dancer will quickly shut down my dance, my way.  Comparisons should come with a warning label, such as, "Comparisons are known to cause mental and physical distress.  They undermine creativity, uniqueness, and a sense of purpose in the world.  Comparisons are toxic.  Use at your own risk." 

       Lately, women of all ages have confided in me that they find themselves endlessly looking at others to see just exactly how they measure up.  Which leads me to the million dollar question--just why do we compare ourselves to other people? If we're honest sometimes it's to find direction--using their way as our way.  Sometimes it's to feel important or significant--if I find an area where I'm doing something better than others, that makes me special, right?  I can pride myself on the area where I excel, and maybe like myself a tad bit more at the end of the day.  Look to the right, look to the left, and...snap! It's a trap waiting to snag us, tie us up, and leave us feeling more insecure and lost than ever.  

     You see, the problem with this comparison strategy is that it keeps us from knowing and valuing ourselves.  It keeps us from struggling to discover our values, our strengths, our weaknesses, and ultimately, what we have to contribute to the world that belongs just to us.  We each have a unique and special way of seeing the world, and of doing things, that adds depth, dimension, and beauty to the bigger picture.  We will never discover and embrace our purpose and design if we focus instead on comparing ourselves to the crowd around us. To experience authentic satisfaction and joy we need to spend our energy on discovering and being us.  Just us.  Doing our dance, our way. Much like a truly beautiful garden has flowers and plants of various colors, shapes, sizes, and textures, our world needs each of us to contribute our unique pattern to the garden if it to be the masterpiece our Creator intended.  We are all a special workmanship of God's, and designed to be a perfectly unique part of His design.  Created to do good works...with our own personal stamp on them.  

     Listen for the flute.  It's coming....get ready to do your dance, your way.  Close your eyes to those around you, and allow yourself to run through the sprinklers on a hot summer day and enjoy the moment.  Do your part.  Do your dance, your way. 



   

Wanna Be Vegan, Um What's Up With That?

 Mama's Perfect Milk

     Perfection.  Absolute perfection. Experts completely agree that mother's milk--breast milk--is the very best, complete, and most nourishing food for a baby.  There is nothing that replicates its positive effects on a growing child.  Nothing.  Its irreplaceable nutritional properties are ideal and nothing short of incredible.
  

     Breastfed babies have a myriad of benefits, many which follow them all their lives.  For example, babies given breast milk have an increased immunity to all kinds of viruses and diseases, which is why they have lower incidences of allergies, respiratory illnesses, meningitis, and SIDS (a whopping 73% less!) just to name a few.  Researchers have found a link between breastfeeding and later cognitive advantages (i.e., greater intelligence)  And did you know that a breastfed baby has a 20% lower rate of death from ages birth to one year?  But wait, it doesn't stop there because scientists have also found a link between breastfeeding and and a lower incidence of obesity as a teen or adult.  Also, daughters who have been breastfed have lower incidences of breast cancer later in life.  Despite this long list these are only a few of the benefits the breastfed child enjoys.  In short, scientists agree that breast milk is extraordinary and miraculous, the perfectly designed food for babies' optimal development.  (While infant formulas sold represent great efforts to duplicate breast milk, they are all seen by doctors and scientists as inferior products when compared with breast milk.)  Developing babies require breast milk, or it's imperfect, but close cousin formula, to grow both mentally and physically. There are no other options. 

     That said, a parent would be quickly charged with child abuse, if in lieu of breast milk or formula, they fed their baby orange juice, Kool Aid, or even squirrel's milk.  Excuses such as, "the child just loves Kool Aid and deserves to be happy," or "the child is going to die of something anyway, why not let him or her enjoy what they like," would be soundly denounced and the parent would be seen as a lunatic. Daring to feed a baby something that wouldn't provide him or her with the optimal chance of development would quickly deem the parent unfit.  They would most likely have their child removed and  face criminal charges.  Clearly, it would be an outrage!  Yet, strangely, once these same babies are weaned, they are often quickly introduced to a diet akin to orange Juice, Kool-Aid, and squirrel's milk for the rest of their lives. The excuses that we deem lunacy for infants are suddenly offered up as legit a year later.  Well, is there a breast milk for children and grown ups, you ask?  Yes, resoundingly yes, and that "milk" is plants.

     Perfection.  Absolute perfection describes plants as foods for humans.  Vegetables, fruits, nuts, seeds, legumes, and grains of every variety--plants--hold astonishing and complex nutrition for the optimal health of human beings.  Overwhelming research all point to the same conclusion--plant foods are akin to breast milk for grown ups.  Plant foods provide vitamins, minerals, antioxidants, fiber, amino acids, and phytonutrients, just to name a few of their inherent benefits.  The The Harvard School of Public Health most recent newsletter, dated October 17, 2012 says this-   

It's hard to argue with the health benefits of a diet rich in vegetables and fruits: lower blood pressure; reduced risk of heart disease, stroke, and probably some cancers.  Lower risk of eye and digestive problems; and a mellowing effect on blood sugar that can help keep appetite in check.

     Science is just beginning to discover all the remarkable properties of plant foods for humans.   A recent study even found that psychological well-being and happiness was correlated with eating 7 fruits and vegetables a day.  It's true, they found eating these remarkable, perfect foods actually made people feel happier.

     The fascinating documentary,  Forks Over Knives, (forks as medicine over knives as scalpels) chronicles the stories of independent researchers who all eventually came to the same conclusion--a plant based diet is the healthiest diet for humans.

     The indisputable truth is this--longevity and optimal health are fueled by the foods that were designed for humans. Just like breast milk, not a shred of evidence suggests that other food sources--generally created or tampered with by humans--provide the best chance for cognitive, physical, and emotional health.  Yet, amazingly, a diet analogous to orange juice, Kool-Aid, and squirrel's milk has become our norm.  Eating a whole foods, plant based diet has become the bizarre.  How strange is that?  Sadly, we reject the "breast milk" that has been designed for us.

     So, what's up with my wannabe vegan declaration?  Somewhere along the way I saw that I was limping through life on orange juice, Kool-Aid, and squirrel's milk.  I opened my eyes to see that Almighty God Himself had designed so many, many perfect foods for me. For us.  Foods that were perfectly created to nurture our health, our hearts, and our souls.  And now that I've caught the vision, I'm seeking to feed myself with that perfect mama's milk.  The optimum milk that was created and designed by my loving, unfathomable Father.