A Love Letter...To My Parents

I just finished writing a love letter.

It's a love letter to my parents, actually. A few weeks ago I encountered a card while browsing at the mall that aptly captured in words a summation of many thoughts I'd been piecing together in my my own mind and heart in recent months. I knew immediately that I wanted to send them the card, after adding to it my own personalized words.

All too often we don't take the time to share with people what they really mean to us and how much their presence in our lives has effected us. I didn't want this to be another time in which "the good stuff" just slipped on by. Sure, my parents know I love them, but it's not every day I take the time to write them a love letter. They deserve the opportunity to hear how much their love for me has shaped me.

And, I want to include the letter here, because they also deserve the recognition and honor for what they've taught me. I will have to wait to publish this posting after they've received the "hard copy"...but I'll copy the words now, before I send them on their way through the mail.


Dear Mom & Papa,

A few months ago I began reflecting on relationships and love--and in particular I decided to focus on what I understood/knew of God's love, thinking that would help illuminate and define what I wanted "love" to look like in other areas of my life.

Interestingly enough, it didn't take me long to figure out that everything I know about God's unconditional love and grace and faithfulness came from the both of you. Not only by what you introduced me to in church, itself, but perhaps more importantly by what you taught me at an even more basic level, through what you modeled to us at home: the simple, unshakable truth of your love for each other and for each of us kids.

I can still hear one of Papa's favorite refrains, "Don't tell me; show me." You were right--actions do speak louder and more deeply than words. I know what love is not because you said, "I love you," enough times, but because no matter what the circumstance you've always treated me like I was loved.

And so, in my experience, love is never something to be questioned--it just is. It's not something that is earned; therefore, it is also something that can't ever be "un-earned," or lost due to any "failed" expectations. It exists apart from me, yet completely envelopes me. I was born into it and I will one day die in it, no matter whether or not you've already gone on before me. And, something in me believes it will still exist even after we're all gone. I'm not sure what happens to it then, but I hope it will be recycled and reused.

This morning in church we heard the following verses from Romans, and I both know what the words mean and believe in their promise because of you:

"Who will separate us from the love of Christ? Will hardship, or distress, or persecution, or famine, or nakedness, or peril, or sword? ... I am convinced that neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor rulers, nor things present, nor things to come, nor powers, nor height, nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord." (Romans 8:35, 38-39)

Love is permanent, no matter what ups and downs life brings. Sometimes love is all you can count on.

I know that being a parent is hard, often under-appreciated work--but you both did a fine job because you understood and believed in all the simple, most fundamental things.

It occurred to me earlier this year that even if I never have kids of my own, I will still be blessed to love with a mother's kind of love--because that's what my heart learned from an early age. I don't think you could have given me any gift more precious than that.

Anyway, I saw this card and I wanted to send it to you. But, really there are no "ifs" about it: I do know what love is because of the both of you.

And I love you, too.

Love,
Kristy

P.S. I hope you got that "thank you" was implied! :)

Choose Your Battles Wisely--We've Got Cookies!

On some days the only kind of control we are granted, towards attempting to manage the chaos of the day, is that which we can rely on when wrestling with our own demons. A lot of things happen around and outside of us, over which we often have little, if any, control. So, as my Monday got off to a rough start this week, and the day began reeling out of control, I was going to have to find some way to "get a grip" and hold my ground--"right the ship" and regain my equilibrium, (which has already been a little off recently, to begin with).

Mondays, in general, are the most stressful day of my work week. This Monday, in particular, all hell was breaking loose as I was putting out fires left and right (on top of the lingering pop-up flames from past fires). In order to survive the day I was going to have to call on all my troops. I reached down into the depths of my core to summon all my reserve strength.

The ability to focus and to creatively harness the power of symbolism: those are both key for me. Chaos raging all around--I needed to choose my battle...pick my opponent. I may look small, but I'm deceptively feisty and fierce when necessary. I am David...send me your Goliath...and I'll show you what I've got. And so it was that I picked the largest, most seemingly insurmountable target in the room: the plate of fresh cookies someone had piled high on the table in the center of the staff room.

Game on!

"As a matter of principle, I will not eat any of those cookies." Focus. A good old-fashioned stare-down began. This was no longer just an everyday plate of cookies. It now became a stockpile for all my other battles, both internal and external. Symbolism. Already the "cookie" metaphor is very strong in my life. They are the one food that possesses the power to unhinge my entire agenda for eating a wholesome, healthy diet. Cookies are my kryptonite. So, the symbolism riding on yesterday's battle was inherently rich and strong.

As the day wore on, the cookies slowly began to disappear from the pile, one by one, as other staff members passed by the plate. I stared resolutely back at the cookie heap as the balance of power between us teetered and tottered noiselessly in the atmosphere of the room. The cookies stared glaringly back at me, unwilling to give up so easily. Both of us seemed to gain a strange kind of satisfaction from the fact that no one else in the room was even remotely aware of this high stakes competition taking place right in their midst. If there was no audience, no one would be there to witness if we simply folded. I could eat a cookie and no one in the room would think anything of it--what is there to lose? Yet, somehow that made the stakes even higher. I would know, and the cookie pile would know. And really that's the only thing that matters.

Cookies have been around for millions of years....plenty of time for perfecting their offensive strategies. This battle of the wills was an even match of iron clad patience and perhaps even a little defiance. The quickest way to light a fire in me is to tell me there's something I cannot do. The cookie's taunt, "You can't outlast me in this stare down..." only sufficed as more ammunition towards my resolve. Poor move, cookie!

And then it was down to one. By mid afternoon there was only one cookie remaining. The cookie pile was weak from the long day's battle, but it was perhaps saving its strongest tactics for the end. Apparently the cookies have been working out with Bob Harper as well. "Finish strong!" I can hear Bob chanting, "Everyone starts out strong....it's the ability to finish strong that's a marker of true strength!" That's not an exact quote, but it conveys his message.

A couple more hours and there is still only one cookie left. No more pile of cookies. It's almost sacrilegious to leave a solo cookie just sitting there on an all-but-empty plate. Really, it is a compassionate and virtuous act to put that last cookie out of its lonely misery. I'm not sure exactly where I learned that, but isn't it true?

But I didn't fall for it this time. Too much was riding on this particular battle.

I do have a competitive spirit. I have to admit, I could hear "We are the Champions" playing over the loudspeakers of my mind as I prepared to leave work for the day. I stared down my opponent one last time, turned off the office lights and peacefully shut the door behind me, with a smile on my face. The sweet taste of victory is more lasting than that of any cookie I've ever known.

As I left the cookie sitting there on that plate, it left me feeling like I had managed to gain a little more of an upper hand on my day. Sure, there were still things outside my control, but in my own small way I would carve out a space to create my own order and sense of control. And so I did not let the battle end there. The stare down was only the beginning. In order to prove my point ever so clearly I then rushed off to the gym. I left work promptly in order to make it to a cardio kickboxing class--an amazing, intense workout with some great core work, which I love! It was everything I needed to help wipe out the stress from my day. And then, to really put the nail in the coffin, I followed that up with running two miles on the treadmill.

There was a lot hinging on Monday's battle....but I think it's fair to say I came out on top. I'll take the win! In fact, I put it in my quiver as I prepared to do it all over again the next day.

C'mon Goliath....bring me your cookies! Show me what you've got! I dare you.

Welcome to Tuesday.

Moving Mountains

I am on a welcome and much-needed retreat right now. My soul was in serious of need of replenishment, and God provided for my needs, once again, at just the right moment in time. I'm enjoying a quiet, long holiday weekend in Bellingham, house- and dog-sitting for my sister and brother-in-law while they are visiting friends in Portland. Of course, I would love to be in Portland, right now, too, but my soul was much more need of this quiet escape from all the crazy, intense, busy-ness that life has brought me as of late.

I don't mean to suggest that everything going on in my life right now is less-than-positive. In fact, there are many things going on that are quite positive. Monumental even. Life-altering in positive ways. But, even that takes its toll after a while. I am all for personal growth. One of my favorite pastimes, actually. Still, I was querying God a few days ago: "What's wrong with slow, continuous growth? Why does it have to happen so frequently in seismic shifts??!" But, in reality, I'm not actually complaining. I can appreciate the seismic shifts--they are actually quite awesome to behold. Just a bit exhausting at times!

During my drive up to Bellingham on Friday evening, I was flipping through the local radio stations as I neared my destination. A song came on the radio that spoke to me instantly. It sounded a little country-ish (not something I tend to listen to very often), and initially I thought perhaps it was the Dixie Chicks. I was actually quite surprised after the song ended and the DJ clarified it had been Miley Cyrus. (So THAT'S what Miley sounds like!) For some reason I then felt a little silly to be moved by a Miley Cyrus song...but I'll never be ashamed to own up to anything that moves me. The song was "The Climb." The mountain imagery really resonates with me and what I think life is all about. Here are some of the lyrics:

There's always gonna be another mountain
I'm always gonna wanna make it move
...
Ain't about how fast I get there
Ain't about what's waiting on the other side
It's the climb

It is all about the climb, baby. If there were no mountains worth climbing, life would be boring. I lived in Ohio for 11 years--I know what flat looks like! I also recognize there is an undying spark in me that will never be afraid of the mountains. And I know for a fact I am always going to want to make them move.

Faith can move mountains. I've recently seen huge mountains in my life crumble into such fine dust that their trace left behind is nearly unrecognizable. All the credit goes to God, but I still had to do the climbing and the wanting. Based on my latest experience of mountain climbing, it seems the ability to move the mountain finally comes when we reach that exact moment of faith in which we hand everything completely over to God. Surrendering our own will seems, to the naked eye, like a moment of human weakness and giving up--but really I think it is a moment of faith that represents a clear expression of our pure, inner strength.

I saw a quote the other day that said something like this: "Our strength is what remains when we've used up all our weakness." I love this quote as well, as it really resonates with the truths I cling to in my fitness journey. We pass through our weakness to get to our strength. When I am sweating and breathing heavy and working out so hard that I'm about ready to collapse, it is THEN that I am blessed to catch yet another glimpse of that part of me who is beautifully strong and passionate. She's the one who powers me through life...and steps up when it's time to face another mountain. I suppose it's my penchant for moving mountains that is causing those seismic shifts I referred to at the beginning of this post.

Here's a video I found on YouTube featuring Miley singing The Climb. I encourage you to listen to it, and think on the mountains you're facing in your own life...and about the meaning you might find in your journey if you were to embrace the fact that right now is exactly where you're being called to be (it's about the climb!) and trust that in time, this (mountain) too shall pass.