Eye on the Prize

Before we get too far today, I'll just comment that a quick check online reveals that apparently there's no harm in feeding chipmunks peanuts,  Cottage Life being just one of many sources.  Just wanted to clear that up because we don't want to be interacting with our little friends in harmful ways, for sure.

That being said,  I have noticed that our local neighbourhood chipmunks are most decidedly ramping things up.  

I now have four steady customers, all of whom are scampering just that much more frenetically than, say, back in oh-there's-still-lots-of-time July.  And the competition for the goods, while certainly a thing all along, is by now verging on the dramatic.  If you've observed these little guys up close, you know this.  Lots of stand offs, lots of chasing each other, lots of surprise attacks making one chipmunk jump right out of their skin, sometimes landing smack dab in the middle of my lap between me and my computer as I work out on the deck.  You guys!

This makes sense with the fall season upon us.  And that's why, as recommended, I'm pacing things out, only offering a rationed portion each day, and certainly not every day.  I'm also being a bit more sneaky about where I'm 'hiding' the peanuts.  This is wholly for my own amusement, to see if they can find what I've hidden in the flower pots, the small ceramic birdhouse, and amongst the rocks at the base of the umbrella.  A bit of a scavenger hunt, in the best sense of the term. 

Unfortunately for the blue jays, no peanut placed carefully on the deck railing just for them is now safe from the chipmunks.  Who'da thunk that birds twice as big and fifty times as loud, with wings no less, could be out done by a rodent, cuteness notwithstanding?

So all is fun and games, and all is good....as long as there are peanuts.

When the peanuts run out for the day, that's another thing.

There's an initial protest.  No, more like a persistent inquiry.  Perched on top of the empty container, they make direct eye contact with me.  They chirp.  I try to explain, kindly, that the store is closed, come back tomorrow.  They don't believe me.  They run back to all the places, double checking.  They run along the deck railing and stop when they are in my best line of sight.  They chirp again.  

I don't budge.  They jump up on the arm of my deck chair, giving me their best sweet little baby face of pleading.  I stay strong.  Finally, we come to a mutual understanding, and off they run to gather the ample offerings of the forest.

There is one last ditch effort they can make, however.  And I really don't think I'm imagining it.  It has to do with the big windows in our bathroom.

A number of years ago when we were renovating, the entire wall of the bathroom, which faces to the back of the property, was gone for several days.  Previously, there had been one small window, and the contrast of airy light was so impressive we decided to install windows for the upper half of the entire width of that back wall.  It really helped make that small room so much bigger.  And since no one is ever back there, privacy wasn't an issue.

Until now.

I swear they know when I go in there, and that they've figured out I'll be sitting down for a few minutes.  Because they're back there, looking in, chirping.  Either on the tree that's a just a few feet away, or on the saw horse that's out there.  

This wasn't happening earlier in the year.  I think they just clued in.  Gotta take every opportunity, you know.  And it's just for me, the peanut lady.  They aren't out there when Ken goes in, and sometimes he's in there for much longer, just sayin.'

I am finding all of this to be quite fun and cute and entertaining.  I'm glad we're friends.  They are sweet company.  Like having pets, except I don't have to clean any cages.

Plus, I just simply admire the focus these guys have on making sure they will have what they need over the long winter months.  They keep it simple.  They stay on task.  They take every opportunity.  They don't get distracted.

I can get distracted.  It's easy enough when there are so many important and worthy things vying for my attention.  Or if I get tired.  Or if old memories start to haunt me (especially when I get tired).  Or if things aren't happening the way I expected.  Or if the politics get too loud.  Or if I start to feel like no one cares what I'm doing and forget that it's not about me.  

Or if I forget what I'm called to be and do.

Paul knew this.  In his encouragement letter to the Philippians he talks about his one desire to 'know Christ,' and how this is an ongoing focus for him.  Humbly, he admits, "Not that I have already obtained all this or have already arrived at my goal, but I press on to take hold of that for which Christ Jesus took hold of me."  (Philippians 3:12)

Like a chipmunk after peanuts.

Not sure what your own peanuts might be. but I hope you can stay focused today.  And I pray that whatever is distracting you can be dealt with expediently.  I know sometimes those things are really big and persistent.  

Press on, friends.  Together we'll see what this day brings.

When It All Starts To Make Sense

Photo Credit:  Evangeline Wilton

It's more than just the lack of humidity these first few days.  Although it does provide a metaphor.

I've been here in November before, but don't remember it being quite this pleasant.  Temperatures are very agreeable for sleeping at night, and, during the day, a high of 30ish is a a fine contrast to the cold and rainy and windy weather we left behind.  But even more, there's really no humidity to speak of.   And I'm sure that wasn't the case when I was here in the fall of 2015.  All day I feel it.  Just that easy comfort of a perfect day of warmth and sunshine, relaxed and deeply convinced that this is where I need to be right now.

If humidity makes heat feel hotter, then we could say stress makes work - even well loved work - 'workier'.  Not as organic, not as focused, not as enjoyable.

Despite the strong matters that made it difficult to leave (and which very much still occupy my heart and my prayers) I find again that happy reality I experienced when I was here in August.  I am now doing this one thing.  And now, doing this part of what I believe God is asking me to do is so much more organic, focused and enjoyable in this new reality.

I'm hating to admit it for fear it may sound like I did not love being a pastor.  I did.  With my whole heart.  Enough to make these past five months drill down into the work of grieving and of letting go.  I don't think that is done either.

But being here and feeling the difference - the difference in how much I can be fully present in each moment, how easier it is to adapt and go with the flow, how clear-minded I am about what I'm teaching and for my language study, and how often I feel myself ride a little wave of "I can't believe I get to do this!!!!" - I think something very wonderful is starting to make sense.

This stepping aside from pastor and moving into missionary was a good idea.

When you make a decision as impactful as stepping away from a ministry you helped birth, and have been actively and ridiculously involved in throughout it's 20 year history, when you do that, it really shakes your pysche.  But here I feel oriented again, in my element again, like things fit again.

And with the clearer air of just one focus, yes, I can breathe easier. 

Of course, having said all that, I'm here for the month and then, oh glorious then, on December 2, I get to be back at Highview again.  So I think, this visit, there's also a LOT to look forward to going home.

Photo Credit: Evangeline Wilton

The month is still before me. 

We've only begun the first of three units prepared to help us be Strong, Smart and Savoury.  We're memorizing Zechariah 4:6.  We've got 100 words of vocab to learn.  And I get to distill it all into a research paper about this very thing that has captured my heart - cross cultural ministry relationships.

Here comes another little wave because, really...

I can't believe I get to do this!