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Hope in the oddest of places

August 13, 2018

Sometimes in life with looming deadlines and ever-growing to-do lists, it is easy to miss the forest for the trees.  In essence we become human doings instead of human beings.  My friends say my chaotic, frenetic schedule exhausts them, and honestly, I am working diligently to practice the art of saying “No, but thanks for thinking of me” when it comes to requests for my time.  Although I know that God wired me to be a do-er, I am also equally cognizant of the fact that I am not superhuman and need my rest, which is why I am prolific proponent of naps.

The last few weeks with wrapping up classes, helping at our godson’s wedding, and tri-state travel left all of us feeling a bit tired.  It is often in these moments where the worst of me appears as I am short with others, filled with self-doubt, and weary of  . . . well, just about everything. Lots of “can’t evens” and “what if’s” swirl in my head during those moments where I have depleted my energy stores to next to nothing.

Often times a good rest is a restorative cure, but sometimes those negative feedback loops need more than few minutes of shut eye to restore my soul, re-righting the ship on my life’s journey.  Sometimes, God provides the perfect antidote in nature that just brings joy to my heart, a spring to my step, and a smile to my countenance.  Other times, I feel it is his prompting that puts someone in my path or causes a loved one to reach out in an unexpected way, but yet at the same time with perfect timing.  No matter which one, my soul receives the provision with as much gratitude as I envision those who awaited Balto’s serum run in Alaska.  Oh how I needed that and even in my doubt and fear and worry, I knew, I simply knew that you would provide!

So it was last week when I wanted desperately to celebrate one of my favorite made holidays. I know not everyone celebrates the Zucchini Faerie, but other than a brief nod from Garrison Keillor’s old sentiment about the only time Minnesotans lock their cars is during zucchini season, few know my love of August 8. Yet the chaos of the week before left me playing catch up all day and into the night, leaving no time to wear the cloak of darkness to assume the role of my alter ego.

The celebration was marked in my heart, but not in tangible gifting of garden produce that day.

Imagine our surprise when we awoke the next morning to a bag full of goodies left on our front steps.  I wept tears of joy, realizing someone got me.  A precious gift! The mystery benefactors truly understood me and my weirdo traditions.  It didn’t take us long to figure out which one in our tribe of friends continued the sharing from their heart and the bounty of their garden (and perhaps a bit out of their community supported agriculture box).  The message received was we love you in all your weirdness. 

I will celebrate that any day of the week!


People often express to me how they wish they had my strength, my energy or my courage.  Baffled, I am searching for where those things are housed, because I don’t think I embody any of them.  And I overdo it – often and A LOT.  But, what I have learned is that even in the darkest, most exhausted moments is to always leave room for hope.  Hope that tomorrow (perhaps with a little rest, a glass of iced tea, a mess of veggies and whole lot of Jesus) will be better.

Whether it is nature with a bountiful harvest or the relentless love of God’s best creations, amazing friends, hope abounds if we (especially I) look for it.  If you are able, today and everyday look for a way to be someone else’s hope . . . even if that hope is a bag of zucchini on the front step.

Live blessed, my dear ones.  Live blessed.

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