Water-Tight Tethers: Surviving Peace before the Storm

“Rain has always fascinated me, it is one of my favorite things in life. As a child I would watch the rain from my bedroom window and imagine the ocean, a storm, a ship, a lighthouse. A story would play out in my mind as the rain hit the window. I would imagine being a raindrop falling into a great river, I would travel to the sea and begin a grand adventure.” – Brittany, from Ramblings at Night: Water

Brittany, a friend whose friendship warms my heart, unhinged a door to my thoughts after writing the above. “One of [her] favorite things in life…” illustrates life itself simply and powerfully. In my mind, a raindrop falling into a great river resembles new birth, and the sea’s grand adventure mirrors our traversing through life. The ocean’s personality may, at times, prove tumultuous, harsh, and uncaring towards travelers (us); at other times, it may prove tranquil and peacefully harbor us in mare pacificum. However capriciously or idyllically life’s current moves us, we ought to scour the horizon for the lighthouse, fix our coordinates, and sail steadfastly.
Growing up, I loved to watch the rain pour outside and rarely failed to escape the house to play with full throttle. I explored the myriad of canals that only come to life when it rains, making leaf-boats to war with the waters ’til they reached the channel’s end. Having grown, when life thrusts me to and fro, I mentally remove myself from the storm and relocate inside the house, beside the window, and watch the storm.

Baltic Sea (Darlowo)Picturing life in moments, or as a story, reminds me that living is like writing a book that only a few select individuals will read – my family and dearest friends. Each chapter is new, displaying both tribulation and triumph. Characters come, go, and a few remain, but I, I am constant ’til the last period, death. I reflect on the question: “Am I writing a story worth reading?” When storms battered the ship deck and put the mast to the test, did I remember my anchor? The lighthouse? Or did I allow my attention to be diverted and locked on the dissonant churning of the waves?

Will I be able to proclaim:

“Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—

I took the one less traveled by,

And that has made all the difference.”

– Robert Frost, from the Road Not Taken

Buying Time: Giving Much with Nothing

While ritually perusing Facebook, I scrolled across a post shared by a friend via Astig FM’s Facebook page. In a classic viral Facebook-life-lesson format, the post depicted an interaction between a father and his son. The story began when the son inquired of his father’s hourly income; taken aback by his son’s intrusiveness, the father resisted the request, but did not withhold the desired information for long. The father revealed his $100 hourly wage; after which the son soberly asked for $50 from his father. Now appalled, the hardworking father directed his son to meditate on his childish, selfish petition. Nearly an hour later, the father’s fumes settled and he proceeded to apologize to his son for involving him in the stresses of the day (the roots underneath the father’s aggravation). He handed his son $50, knowing that his son never asked for much; post-haste, the son pilfered beneath his pillow and pulled out another $50 that he had collected. Slightly perplexed, his father curiously asked why his son wanted more money, since he already had some.

The son responded: “’Because I didn’t have enough, but now I do…’ ‘Daddy, I have $100 now. Can I buy an hour of your time? Please come home early tomorrow. I would like to have dinner with you.’”

The hardworking, overworking father felt defeated and responded with a mending hug.

This everyday story extends to anyone who is distracted by anything, and priority assessment is the foundation. The father gave himself up to a money-making-mindset. Providing for his family, a worthy cause and the father’s heart-motive, underwent nearly fatal arrhythmia when provision garnered more attention than the very family receiving provision.

In the business setting, an industry’s resources become fully realized once tangible and intangible resources are both accounted for. Tangible resources (such as property, equipment, inventory, the building itself, etc.) are numerable, on the books, and may be dispensed of in accordance with the limited supply. Intangible resources (such as experience, leadership skills, time, etc.) are innumerable, off the books, and may be dispensed of in accordance with the flexible supply. Both tangible and intangible resources together constitute the whole of an industry’s resources; likewise, both tangible and intangible resources together constitute the whole of an individual’s resources.

Even when we have nothing, we have time; in giving someone our time, we become a benefactor. As long as we have breath, we have time – making us the owner of a resource rich in quantity and living value.

Time is everyone’s benefactor; as beneficiaries, we should expect to use our intangible resource wisely.

Draped with Chains: The Important Thing I Allowed Myself to Lose

There was a time in my life when I would battle within fortified castle walls, luxuriously abide in a mansion, and plot devious operations within the confines of my personal headquarters: my treehouse. Sometimes my treehouse served as a cabin where I would vacate from childhood woes and home life; as if either were not, in reality, quite nearby. I would retreat to the five-foot by five-foot loft on cool nights and sprawl my body across the gaping floorboards. If it were raining, I would peer out the somberly small square window, relaxing as I observed the rainfall.  My treehouse was what Lemony Snicket might call a “sanctuary.”

Formed out of semi-solid planks and glazed with chipping paint, my treehouse walls sheltered me with adamancy, sobriety, and the caring craftsmanship of my father. It was magic fortified with wonder.

These days, my dilapidating treehouse door refuses to allow my entrance; Life, who instructed me to grow up, locked the magic inside. The entrance is barred shut by others’ expectations of success and approval. Misplaced priorities and responsibilities concerning education, finances, and careers shut the window I once peered through. The world forged drapes of chains out of a cast-iron obsession with greed, power, and sexual inclinations. Common notions of how man ought to live, with and without faith, crucified the magic which hemmed me in.

No more will I allow the harrowed magic to remain as such. Jesus called us to be as one of the little ones, a child. Confidently, I pray that His grace and Spirit, dwelling with and within me, transform me into an all-seeing-child.

The life of a child is simple and undefined, allowing the father to guide and nurture it. The splendor of creation is my new treehouse, sheltering me with adamancy, sobriety, and the caring craftsmanship of my Father above. Its doors are open, unbound and abounding with magic and wonder within. Christ broke the bars of expectations. God’s grace swung open the window, and His unbearable peace shines through, illuminating the loft with his grand working and schema. The cast-iron drapes we forged are unlinked, scattered, and falling through the floorboards gaping with His Spirit’s breadth. God’s notion of how man ought to live is resurrected with the Son, restoring us to childlike magic. I am a child once more.

“…people die in monotony every day. Pain and euphoria remind us that we are alive. If the magic ceases to exist, then life is pointless.” – Autumn Jade Monroe