Finding the pace

I have never liked to run. Never. Memories of the 50 yard dash in 3rd grade..running laps in 6th grade while trying out for track team...and being smacked on the bottom by my volleyball coach because I was the slowest runner on the team..even my feeble attempt to develop a jogging routine on the treadmill during my "get fit" phase. It isn't really only the sweating and the breathlessness, but my inability to set a pace and keep it.

Sometimes I feel more like a 4th of July sparkler than a steady candle flame.

I seem to have a habit of going from slow and pokey..to crazy, frantic and manic. In my recent history, I am sure that I remember having mornings wondering what I was going to do..thinking that I might actually have nothing to do. But that is all a foggy memory now...one that I wistfully wonder if it will ever be a reality again.

I suppose that setting a pace in life is as important as it is in exercise. Start off too fast and you might fall flat before you hit the finish line...run too slow and you might not ever get there..full stop.

Maybe this is part of the maturation process. Realizing that zeal and robust energy, while each has its place, must be tempered by a consistency and commitment to the "race". A little reigning in and a bit of thoughtful prayer can bring about a longer lasting effect than the impetuous burst which might quickly die out.

Let it RAIN!

I grew up in the Pacific Northwest. It is a place of great beauty and is so very very green. In fact, my birth state, Washington is know as the Evergreen State... do you want to know why? Because it rains all the time.

I know an entire list of jokes about the people who grow up there, such as "we don't tan, we rust" "we believe that umbrellas are for wimps" and on and on. I have more memories of walking to school in the drizzling rain, of dancing around mudpuddles (which my sister always made a point to stomp in!) and watching the rain run down the window. Believe it or not, it brings me comfort, and a sense of peace to have it rain.

Contrast that with my current environment. I honestly don't remember the last time it rained. I was looking out my bedroom window this morning at my poor dehydrated garden. My once lush green plants are now withered and tired, or all together dead. The grass, or what is left of it, is brown and dry. If you lie down on it, you are immediately covered in straw like remnants of what was once a very inviting lawn.

Now, I have to be honest. The weather itself is lovely. We are finished with the frightening cold winter, and spring has sprung. Our last week has given us temperatures in the 80's and 90's and our little pool has gone from a frigid 55 degrees up to a much more inviting 70 degrees. But everything is still so dry and dead. I'm longing for a good long soaking rain....

Many a man curses the rain that falls upon his head, and knows not that it brings abundance to drive away the hunger. ~Saint Basil

How many times in my life have I wondered why I struggle..why things don't go as smoothly as I picture them in my mind's eye? I look forward to the end of the struggle, the return to the "happy days", the "sunny days"?

Today a man in our church shared about some very difficult times his family is going through right now. But, even with the tears in his eyes for the sorrow he's experiencing, he admitted that he and his wife have grown closer to God in this time, and closer to each other, because of the struggle.

If we lived our entire lives on the "sunny side", we would be like those sad, brown plants in my garden - lifeless, droopy and lacking beauty. It's the rain that brings the life giving growth. It's the struggles that give us perspective, and growth both in our relationship with God and in our own personal character.

So, Lord, let it rain! Both on my thirsty garden, and my parched soul. Do not let me dry up and whither, but let me be "like a tree planted by streams of water, which yields its fruit in season, whose leaf does not whither." (Psalm 1)

In the Land of Language!

Would you believe that in South Africa there are 11 official languages??? The national anthem alone features 5 of them. Stroll along the streets and a cacophony of sounds reaches your ears.

I have unconsciously adopted a coping mechanism... tuning out. It all started when we lived on the 24th floor of a very large apartment building. It never failed that I would be in the lift with three elderly ladies (tantetjie) who were bubbling along in Afrikaans. A polite smile, then eyes averted to watch the ascending numbers above the door. A long pause in the conversation was my signal that they had been including me in their conversation without my knowing. Then would come the apology and explanation that I was an American, and did not know their language.

Then there are those sweet smiling, twinkling eyed grocery store clerks. A polite greeting from them in English, then a long conversation with the person packing the groceries into bags. I just know they are commenting on the contents of my shopping trolley..or the behavior of my children, or perhaps the odd way I am looking at them while I try to figure out whatever it is that they are saying.

Enter into my life one very lovely Afrikaans speaking Ndebele woman named Joanna. She has swept into my life to try to help me keep my head above water while we start our business. Having this sweet woman attempting to help me, while trying to overcome an enormous language barrier has proved to be at once, challenging and entertaining. Full of stories and comments about life, she has so much to share. I am learning new Afrikaans words daily - and with an immense amount of hand gestures and multiple responses of "what does that mean?" I might just find myself a bit better off than I was a month ago.

It is with this huge barrier looming over me, that I am at last fulfilling one of my "things to do before I die" - I'm taking Zulu classes!! A dear man named Agrippa volunteers his time at the local library on a Wednesday to teach others like me to learn the language of his people.

So let me say to you Sawubona! (greeting translated literally as "I see you!") Unjani! (how are you?)

My deep need to communicate with those around me, whether the Afrikaans lady across the street who runs from me when she sees me appear at the gate because she's afraid to speak to me, my lovely helper Joanna or the homeless people I hand clothes to on a Friday.. has forced this 40 year old woman to step out of her comfort zone, provide some laughs and smiles from those I practice my new vocabulary on, and hopefully break down some of the barriers that I see around me. So for now.... let me say "Salani kahle" (Stay well) and "iNkosi busisa" (God bless)