Category Archive: Travel

I Listen Best in the Quiet …

“I speak to you continually. My nature is to communicate, though not always in words. I fling glorious sunsets across the sky, day after day after day. I speak in the faces and voices of loved ones. I caress you with a gentle breeze that refreshes and delights you. I speak softly in the depths of your spirit, where I have taken up residence. …

Practice looking and listening for Me during quiet intervals. Gradually you will find Me in more and more of your moments. You will seek Me and find Me, when you seek Me above all else.”

These words from Sarah Young’s JESUS CALLING touched my heart. They resonated with my thoughts about rest these last weeks. God speaks to me in  many ways. Some, like a soft breeze, are tender and enveloping, like a sweet whisper on the air. Others, like a thunder and lightning storm, are an awesome display of His creativity and power. And a radiant, coral-colored sunset speaks to me of His glory.

Don and I traveled a lot this Spring. Six trips in the last six months. Each has been meaningful: opportunities to walk and talk and bask in the beauty of God’s creation and man’s creativity in other parts of the world; to serve staff and children in Mexico whom we’ve learned to love over the past eight years; to learn and share and deepen writing skills at the Mount Hermon Christian Writers’ Conference; and to travel to Canada with my mother to reconnect with many extended family members we haven’t seen for years.

We are grateful for these opportunities God gave us to travel, meet new friends, serve others, and meet family again. But our delight in travel caused us to plan a little too much in too compressed a time this Spring. Don felt he had to accomplish three times the amount of work between trips in order to prepare for our next absence. I tried to do laundry, schedule transportation, and prepare for the next trip while writing and keeping in touch with family and friends here. We felt unable to catch up at home between jaunts. Don’t misunderstand–I’m very grateful for these blessings; but scripture also tells us to rest, to plan wisely. Don and I agreed we didn’t do that this year and have committed to more time at home next Spring.

Since being home these past two weeks without another trip in the wind, we both feel more relaxed. We’ve been able to work at a reasonable pace. We’ve taken time to sit on our glider swing and enjoy the gentle breeze while eating a light lunch and catching up with each other, or planning for changes in the garden, or just laughing with each other over some little tickle to our funny bone. Yesterday I sat at the piano and played, a time of personal worship, something I haven’t done for a long time.

So, I am enjoying taking more naps, putting my feet up, playing “grab the stick” with Paigey, being with people we love, and sitting with my guy. And I’m thankful for this particular season of refreshing.

If God doesn’t build the house,
    the builders only build shacks.
If God doesn’t guard the city,
    the night watchman might as well nap.
It’s useless to rise early and go to bed late,
    and work your worried fingers to the bone.
Don’t you know he enjoys
    giving rest to those he loves?” Psalm 127:1-2 MSG

My prayer is that you will experience God’s rest this week in a meaningful way.

QUESTION: How do you best experience rest? Are you in need of it right now? I’d love to hear.

 

post by carolnl | | 2

Drawn to Worship

Don and I stepped onto the walk-on ferry from Cannes, France, and found our seats. Motoring through the cerulean waters, we passed St. Marguerite Island, which held a stone fortress which used to be a large prison. Cannes, and its busy, over-the-top multi-million dollar yachts, its Cannes Film Festival red carpet (coming two weeks after our visit), its high-rise hotels and spectacular villas, receded into the distance. The water’s various blue hues inspired wonder as we approached the dock at Isle St. Honorat. Sailboats of various sizes and styles dotted the water surrounding this small piece of land which has been home to a community of monks since the fifth century.

Tradition says that Honoratus settled on the island, intending to live the life of a hermit. However, disciples followed him and formed a monastic community.  Their life on the island was often interrupted by raids, primarily by Saracens. The monks were expelled when the island was captured by the Spanish in 1635; however, they returned two years later when France retook Isle St. Honorat.

Continuing attacks on the monastery by Spanish and Genoese reduced the number of monks to four, and the monastery was disestablished in 1787.

In 1859, the Bishop of Frejus bought the island with the intent of reestablishing a religious community there. Ten years later, a Cistercian community was established, which has remained there since.

We were not allowed to enter the monastery; however, we could walk up to enter the church and visit the tower. The walk was beautiful. Vineyards lined both sides of the dirt road, and the monastery’s tower was clearly visible against an azure sky.

As we walked past the shops where the monks sell wine and honey made from local produce, we also saw the effect of loving care for the property. Red, pink, periwinkle flowers grew up against stuccoed walls, reaching toward the sun. I took photos and delighted in the beauty of the scene, when I heard music coming from the church. Yes, we had arrived while the monks were singing their daily mass. The acoustics in the high-ceilinged, beautiful-without-being-ornate church, bounced the monks’ antiphonal sounds into the courtyard and thrilled my being. Quietly entering the church, many of us sat to listen and worship as the monks sang “Hallelujah.”

Here we were, on another side of the world, enjoying worship with monks we’d never met, with different languages yet united in “hallelujah” to our God. That will remain a treasured moment in my soul.

When has your spirit been drawn to worship because of music, a kind word, or a loving touch?

 

Hairpins and Hope

The dual switchback gave us no visibility to what might be approaching on the one-lane road. What if a local driver comes barreling around that corner? We’re on the cliff side of the road! Much of the drive was enchanting. Every change in elevation exposed different flora and fauna.  Some areas were lush, some covered with red dirt. “Look at this plain,” I said at one point. After climbing mountains and traversing hairpins for miles, the flatland was a lovely surprise. We crossed narrow bridges and stretches where meeting an oncoming car required one of us to pull out or back up, depending on the amount of margin on the side of the constricted road.

Don pulled over at one cliff, where we looked down at the lava rocks below, and spoke at length with the artist recreating the pastel ocean scene. Near Annalise, spread over a rock and colored the same, was a wild pig skin. I didn’t realize it until I saw hooves and a tail … and smelled an odor that was ripe. Some “rite of passage,” according to Annalise.

We drove past a picturesque little broken-down church, heavy tile roof falling in on itself, that was once charming. It sat above cliffs that led down to roaring waves, tumbling waterfalls, and a little village. We’d seen a sign earlier for banana bread so we pulled over at Julia’s tiny green shack.

I stepped up onto the porch behind a young woman who asked about banana bread. “Last loaf,” was the reply.

“Oh no,” I spoke without thinking.

The woman turned to me. “Do you want to split it?” Her husband joined her. “We don’t need to eat the whole thing.”

“Really?” I asked. Really!

I thanked them, and we divided the bread and shared the cost. Waving goodbye, Don and I continued on our journey, enjoying the moist sweetness of the loaf, which almost melted in our mouths.

More hairpin turns. More one-lane passages. More  beauty—orange and yellow-leaved shrubs, magenta flowers atop trees, hot pink bougainvillea, and palm to pine trees. And lava rock, and some small rock slides, and cliffs that plunged into roiling waves below.

And I thought, kind of like life. There’s a great deal of beauty, enjoyment, ongoing blessing as we walk with Christ. At times we need to hear a brother or sister say “You want to share?” … or perhaps we need to offer the shared blessing to others. There is also challenge, and difficulty, and pain, and suffering. Sometimes the road we travel is smooth and lined with blessings of health and love and productive work and hope. At other times the road is dark, the switchbacks prevent us from seeing the next step, and we have to move forward in faith, our hand in the Father’s, knowing He has promised never to leave or forsake us.

Julia’s

I’ve had a few big switchbacks in my life, along with lesser ones. Threats of mutilation while ministering in the ghetto; pain following departure from a work I loved; some health challenges; the losses of a nephew, several dear friends, my father, my first husband. But I’ve also seen the beauty of being carried through those hairpins by a God who loves me and would not let me go; of loving and being loved well by two wonderful men, and by family; of the gift of travel; of the joy of ministering to and encouraging younger women in their faith walks.

And sometimes it’s the hairpin turns, the switchbacks where we can do nothing but pray and trust, that teach us most clearly that our Father is always there, loving, guiding, walking alongside as we navigate  day by day.

So, while there’s no way I want to suffer, I also don’t regret the times my road has been hard. Mixed with the joys, the difficulties remind me to trust and rely on God in both good and bad times. I can’t become an oak of righteousness, rooted and grounded in Him, without His love and pruning and deepening, the same One who promises to give beauty in place of ashes.

The prophet Isaiah recognized his anointing from the Lord …

” … to comfort all who mourn, and provide for those who grieve in Zion—
to bestow on them a crown of beauty instead of ashes,
the oil of joy instead of mourning,
and a garment of praise instead of a spirit of despair.
They will be called oaks of righteousness,
    a planting of the Lord for the display of his splendor.” (Isaiah 61:2b-3)

What’s encouraged you during some of the hairpin turns of your life?

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Rollin’, Rollin’, Rollin’ on the River …

That’s just what Don and I did as we enjoyed a river cruise up the Mississippi from New Orleans to Memphis a week ago. dsc08384 I’d not seen this part of the South before. Our American Queen antebellum steamboat was charming and romantic. Food was plentiful, and delicious. Multiple sitting rooms provided areas to sit and read, visit, or play games.

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Courting chair in the Mark Twain Salon

We flew into New Orleans a few days early, and met our friends Joe and JoAnn Payne at the city’s National WWII Museum Sunday morning. A WWII vet, Don got some extra attention. The exhibits are very well done and the stories of different service men and women expressed the challenges, tragedies and sometimes heroism of war. I was glad to learn more of Don’s service in the medical corps as memories were prompted during our visit, and by questions JoAnn and Joe asked.

Freedom Park in Helena, AK was one of my most meaningful visits. During the Civil War, runaway slaves traveling the Underground Railway knew that if they could reach Helena, they would be under the protection of the Union Army. The Park is a peaceful memorial to the deep need of people to be free. While camps set up for these families left much to be desired in the way of adequate food and housing, they did provide hope of a future lived in freedom.

Frogmore Plantation in Natchez, Miss., my second choice, is the only historic & modern, 1800-acre working cotton plantation in the South. Its owners have a passion to share the South’s history, and the plight of slaves–even more deeply personal as this couple invests in ministries to those caught in human trafficking.  We began our tour on an original pew in an 1800s African American plantation church, as the mistress of Frogmore took us back in time. Music filled the air as two marvelous local musicians regaled us in song. After that we looked through a number of slave cabins, and learned cotton production, then and now.

One day, as we sat on a bench alongside the Mississippi, a young man sat to our left, head on his knees. During Don’s and my conversations with each other and with passersby, he barely moved. Finally I reached over and gently touched his arm.

Showing us how to pluck the cotton out of their "bowls"

Showing us how to pluck the cotton out of its “bowls”

“Excuse me, sir, are you all right?”

He raised his head and looked at us. “Yeah, I’m ok. Just had a big night of partying last night and am resting up to do it again tonight. But it’s nice of you to check on me.” We wished him well. The next day we saw him–same position, same bench. I was saddened to think this was the rhythm of his life, whether just during a trip or as a lifestyle.

Jesus is the Light of the world, and on this trip we saw both the pain of darkness; and the light of hope when slaves were protected, through people we met who are working to relieve human trafficking. May we be filled with the Light of Christ so we will reflect that to those in our circles of influence, to the glory of God.

“If our Message is obscure to anyone, it’s not because we’re holding back in any way…All they have eyes for is the fashionable god of darkness. They think he can give them what they want, and that they won’t have to bother believing a Truth they can’t see. They’re stone-blind to the dayspring brightness of the Message that shines with Christ, who gives us the best picture of God we’ll ever get.” (II Corinthians 4:3-4, MSG)

May you be blessed with the Light of Life this Thanksgiving week.

 

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Beholding

View of the multiple shades of blue in the warm Hawaiian waters

View of the multiple shades of blue in the warm Hawaiian waters

We fly through enormous cotton candy clouds and look down to see whitecaps dancing on the blue and turquoise waters. Green fields of sugar cane enter our view through the plane’s window, interspersed with other crops, surrounded by iron-rich red soil, and interrupted by rugged, velvet-covered mountains.

Don and I are descending to the island of Maui for a much needed break.

Rene spoke Sunday about “beholding” – really seeing, focusing on, the beauty of God through His Word as well as His creation.

The last months have been full with preparations for a “zero” party for Don (for the uninitiated, that’s a birthday that ends in a zero) last weekend; preparing a rental house for sale; and dealing with our little Paigey’s health challenges as well as my own, which I wrote about last week.

Along with these practical tasks, we’ve had guests, visited dear friends out of state to say goodbye as the husband dealt with cancer, lost the friend we visited, and learned of several others with significant health challenges.

The season has been intense and painful and disheartening and wonderful.

So now we’re running away. Yes, we have good care in place for Paige and Kelly. The house is almost back in shape after the delightful party last weekend. And we grieve with our friend who is without her husband of many years.

But God has blessed us with this opportunity to relax in the sun, sleep, read, eat, sleep, sun, eat, read. Just the two of us. Time to put aside our side-by-side work over the summer and focus on our Creator and on each other as we walk hand in hand along beaches and kiss at glorious sunsets.

It’s at least fifteen years since I’ve been in Hawaii; for Don, more like 50! We want to stop, look, listen, BEHOLD and ADORE our God.

In such busyness, how and where do you “behold” your God?