Finding your way on the “Blue Highway”

Even when your Map App. leads you astray

We were enjoying the “Blue Highways” across America’s Northwestern states. (Named for the color of the lines on old paper maps. Remember those?) Two lane roller-coasters through the mountains, high plains, and- on this hot day- rolling wheat fields of Idaho. (Not just potatoes anymore!) Way more interesting than Interstate Highways with their handy Rest Areas and predictable Truck Stops.
But the road less traveled can a little tricky to navigate at times.

I knew exactly where we were headed. We were pulling our little camper from Lewiston to Portland. I simply entered the address in my smart phone’s map application, plopped it on the dashboard, then blithely followed the arrows and friendly verbal commands. Spectacular scenery. Fascinating little towns. Delightful.

Then we came to a cross-roads. A T-intersection, actually. The road sign offered a choice between two middle-sized towns that I’d heard of, but wasn't sure which was on-the-way to our ultimate destination. “Siri” (We call any and all vocal emanations from The Phone “Siri.”) said, “Turn right in fifty feet.” My truck instrument indicated that would be to the North. We were headed West. Hmmm… “Okay, you’re the expert.” We turned North.

The rolling hills were getting pretty steep. I stopped at the crest of one, and re-entered our destination to be sure The Map App “knew” clearly where our dinner meeting was tonight. “Turn left in five hundred feet.” Hmmm… naught but farm roads out here, but, “Okay. You’re the expert.” We followed the small, once-paved farm road for a while. Then shortly, “Turn Left in one hundred feet.” “Oh. I see where you’re going with this.” A well maintained dirt road, soon deteriorating to a poorly maintained service road that got steeper, and gravely-er as we chugged up a steep incline; tires slipping, passengers tensing. 

Then, at the ridge, we’re greeted by an angry sign: “Authorized Vehicles Only – Trespassers will be Prosecuted!” 

We found ourselves in the midst of a wind-turbine-farm. It was fascinating to be so close among them. (Still baffled that a large bird that can evade shot-pellets traveling at 1300 feet per second, could get killed by a giant fan moving absurdly slowly by comparison?!)

Like many guys, I hate to go back. (What a waste of time and gas, right?) The main highway must be just ahead. But with the dirt road narrowing, the truck and trailer slipping, and two increasingly uncomfortable passengers- worried about getting hung up in a ditch with no civilization (or phone signal) nearby- I strenuously negotiated a 5-point U-turn, and eventually worked my way back to that blessed T-intersection. “Go straight to Walawala.” “Hey! That sounds interesting…”

What can we learn from this little side-track travel-adventure? Firstly, I was putting my trust in a Map App, without verification from other sources. (After laughing at my story, a friend in Portland suggested a better Map App. that starts with G.) I didn’t even have a paper map from which I could get an overview of my journey; and perhaps note alternate routes if necessary. (I couldn't decide which state(s) to buy!) Neither did I have any good landmarks in mind that might help verify my route. Knowing what mountains, rivers, or towns that would be on our route, could have served as guide posts and “hand-rails” along the way. I would never venture into the back-country without a full awareness of these components. But I was trusting that I could just follow The Expert. "Siri."

How are we defining success? We need to understand God’s definition of what is important in life. Why are any of us actually here? Then fully grasp in general terms, what it looks like to be Jesus’ Disciple. And learn what “Good Fruit” tastes like. Love, Joy, Peace, etc. These important perspectives can  only come from intentional study of God’s Word, and frequent, honest interaction in healthy Christian community. These establish the “big picture” in our hearts and minds. Then the Holy Spirit can customize it for us.

Secondly, for all her confident directions, “Siri” appears to be an “Indirect Communicator.” Rather than admit, “Oops. I said ‘right,’ when I should have said ‘left.’ Please turn around and go the other way.” She quietly “re-routed,” and led me on what seemed to her to be an acceptable “work-around” (a giant, looping U-turn.) She was obviously unaware of the current conditions and actual nature of the roads she suggested.

From whom are we getting direction? How often does this happen in our lives? We find ourselves in unknown territory, and needing direction, and we put our trust in an “expert” for advice or guidance, who doesn’t fully know or care about our personal journey; or God’s unique plan in it. An author? A talk-show host? Even a loving friend? But none know or love us as much as The Lord. It may take practice to hear His voice, but He alone is equipped and caring enough to lead you on the unique path that will fulfill His greatest purposes in, for, and through you.

Getting personal…

On a few different fronts in our lives right now, my wife and I are facing uncharted waters. Not only has our family never been along this way before, we do not know of anyone else who has faced any of these unique situations with the same variables and complexities as the ones we face. Loving friends (and impersonal authors and up-front speakers) have all kinds of “expert” advice for each scenario. But we have learned that prayerful pursuit of God’s way (both individually, and together) is our only way to successfully navigate the Blue Highways in our lives.

Repetition, Ruts, and Rocks

                                    From August 2012

2 Sam 22 (a psalm)

When the rains came, we all rejoiced. First, some really “oddly” timed ones that helped stop the horrific Waldo Canyon blaze. (Thank you merciful Savior!) Then the “normal” rhythm of Colorado Summers kicked in, and we got dumped on almost every afternoon for a couple weeks. (Thank you Faithful Creator!) Refreshing in so many ways. Cleaned the air and greened up the mountains. By August we’d had so much rain that the fire bans were lifted in our county. Happy campers and woodsmen rejoiced.

Unfortunately, the majority of roads in our mountain county are not paved. Including those to our home. Most notably about 100 yards of “owner-maintained” driveway. Some of it rather steep. As water hits the packed surface of rocky soil, it heads downhill; taking the path of least resistance. Picking up speed it gathers dirt, sand, and gravel as it goes, and eventually creates erosion; Grooves of habit to which all future storm water will gravitate, and thereby increase the ruts.

This year, these ruts got to such a depth (12” deep and 12” wide) that I became concerned for some incoming guests. Visitors coming from the Mid-West for a much needed break in our cool, quiet mountains. I assumed they’d come in a sedan or mini-van (rather than an SUV most common in Colorado), and could easily bottom-out in these treacherous, tire-sucking, canyons.

I asked a few mountain buddies what they do about driveway erosion. One guy in the next valley- who runs a large retreat center- said, he borrows a tractor, and pushes dirt back up the hill and into the ruts several times a year. But even if packed down, the rains just keep washing the back-fill away. An older, nearby neighbor said he tosses fist-sized rocks from around his lot into the grooves. This seems to slow down the water, and if he gets enough of them to nearly fill the ruts, even his wife’s low-slung sedan can traverse the area without damage. His methodical method of rock placement worked!

I can picture my retired friend, taking his dogs out at various times through his sedentary days. Casually picking up a few rocks each time, and rolling them down the driveway until they land in a rut. A fun cross between Bocce Ball and Corn Hole! They fill up eventually. Well, I don’t have that kind of lifestyle, and my guests were already on their way! I needed a faster fix. I bought a ton of 2-4” Pikes Peak granite, and spent a day and a half shoveling, kicking, and even hand-placing stones into the long, deep ruts of our driveway.

In my slow, meditative Bible reading, the passage I arrived at this morning was David’s psalm as recorded in 2 Samuel 22. God is our rock. A refuge from our enemies. David the warrior knew well the role of rocks, and cliffs, and caves in escaping his enemies. But “Who is my enemy,” I wondered. No humans that I can think of. But there is the Enemy of my Soul. Jesus has conquered him, and those in Christ are empowered to be victorious over all the Devil’s schemes. But how does that work in the nitty-gritty of each day?

Quite often, The Enemy’s schemes against me are demonstrated through repetitive negative messages delivered by the world, or even my own mind. They are not uplifting, God-honoring, or strengthening. They tend to lead my heart downhill. And like water on dirt, they eventually develop ever-deepening paths of their own; completing their route to failure (doubt, discouragement, despair) more quickly each time. Common encouragements from loved-ones, or “positive thinking” may cover the negative emotion for a time, but the next “rain” washes that fluff away in a flash.

But God- as our rock and refuge- has a more substantive response to our mental erosion. His truths are immutable. His character impeccable. His love for us unshakable. These are the stones we need to place into our mental ruts!

So as I methodically repaired the canyons in my driveway today, I thought about more intentionally putting the Truths of God into my mind and life. What lies have created what seem like permanent paths in my thinking? What unhealthy habits seem indelibly etched on my life? Instead, what are the Truths of God, and replacement-behaviors He has created to block – even repair- those patterns? What a great way to spend a day “managing” God’s creation- both that around me, and that within me.

Fun in the Desert Sun

The Lighter Side of Global Conferences

Sardonic observations during a gathering of folks working in complex contexts.

The rising sun blazed hot on the desert sand in the distance; sending ripples of heat toward the white-washed walls of the ancient city. I carefully timed my breakfast to get me ready and downstairs in time for the last shuttle from the hotel to the meeting venue. Not alone in this, three or four others were making their way to the back lot where we are picked up. The bus was gone. We all stood around looking at our watches to confirm that indeed we were right on time. Three others arrived. I noticed that the time clock at the employees’ entrance was five minutes faster than everyone’s watches.

We piled into a couple of cabs. Wedged in next to me was the ample frame of Mr. I. M. Friendly from South Carolina who wanted to discuss where everybody was from, what organization, and what our ambitions were for coming to this conference. Apparently interested in everyone’s background and motivation except the local driver! I carefully evaded each of his queries, trying to drop some hints. Then finally turned and gave him that “Hello! What are you thinking?!” look. He got real quiet, then apologized after we arrived; admitting he’d forgotten where we were. Apparently the blazing sun, dusty streets, turbaned men and fully shrouded women all around our cab escaped his notice.

"Bless their hearts..."

The song leaders this morning are a sixty something couple who apparently consider themselves quite modern because they’ve learned how to sing (and write!) praise choruses. They shared their songs that might not have made the cut when “Kumbaya” and “Pass It On” were getting put into song books. It appeared that the wife (a warbling soprano) was the writer, because her husband (ploddingly strumming his guitar up front) seemed to be having a hard time figuring out how the lyrics fit into each line of music. Perhaps she should be writing rap…

Now we’ve got Al Borland up there; telling us about the state flower of Arizona. (It grows slowly. Some sort of illustration for work in the region.) Personifying the flower, his slow, methodical speech sets the drowsy tone for me for the day. Perhaps noticing some nods in the crowded room, he just told a joke about the Philippines, which appears to have offended the Filipino guy next to me. Oops. (There's the prickly part of his flower!) I think he was charged with delivering "inspiration," but having heard the theme of the main sessions, he’s instead doing a plenary speech on Mentoring and Mobilization. Feels like he’s spending an hour every morning restating the obvious.

Okay! Finally got a guy at the mic with something to say. “Don’t send money. Send us your business.” (ideas, contracts, expertise) People who start businesses, create jobs, are welcome throughout the world." Problem is, for most of these particpants, many of the terms he’s using regarding business (worker, companies, etc.) feel foreign. He’s leading a workshop later. I hope they give him a large meeting room.

Nov2002

Addendum: This sort of conference inspires, connects, and informs. And I do find them meaningful and constructive- in spite of my snarky attitude that day; instigated by the time-orientation "cultural incident" that morning.

In the ensuing years we continue to find, equip and place doctors, teachers, and coaches around the region. But also a number of business people; investing their skills, experience and very lives into individuals, micro-enterprises, and SME's. And, as that prophetic workshop leader promised, the host communities welcome, treasure, even protect our people among them.

Getting Started - "Beauty from Ashes"

Many have said, "You should write a book!" or "You should start a blog!" To which I usually quote Ecclesiastes 12:12 "The writing of many books is endless, and excessive devotion to books is wearying to the body." But, by popular demand, I'm hoping to herein post my various musings and observations on life, nature, and walking with God. I trust you'll enjoy it. But more: be encouraged, edified, and challenged.

I'd rather have ducks landing than those blasted pigeons swarming up there ^ ,
but can't figure out how to do it.
Get an owl! 

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Here's a short thought...


(This picture) from my local friend and photographer John Skiba illuminates (sorry for the pun) the truth that beauty can often come from ashes. Smoke from the current fires blazing in western states is a sign of the misery endured by my family and friends out there. Yet the smoke we share- when light shines through it - creates and reveals a beautiful sunset.

As you may know, I've had a fair bit of misery in my five and a half decades in this Earth Suit; and there always seems to be opportunity for more. But my goal and hope has always been that God's light would shine through my suffering. To me, of course. But to others as well. Revealing His goodness, kindness, and greatness. One can't always make lemonade. Sometimes the lemons are just rotten. But when one knows The Maker of the lemons, it can put it all into the proper perspective. The Right Light- if you please.

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Though I intend to keep this on the up-beat and encouraging side, if my gripes, temporary miseries, or "smoke" are shared herein, may His light always shine through anyway!