Weeds, Rain, and Time Capsules

Yeah, it's a bit strange of a title. But this will be a bit strange of a blog.

The other day my dad had a list of chores waiting for me when I woke up. Before I even saw the list or went downstairs, I finally took the time to pray and talk to God. I had no time limit and no where to be (which was lovely), so we talked. I asked Him to show me a new thing in myself. It was so wonderful that I could have cried.

The first thing my dad asked me to do was pull weeds out of the mulch beds in front of our house. This is a new chore for me; usually I'm working inside. So I went out thinking the sooner I got it done, the better, and it would be less hot earlier in the morning than at mid-afternoon. You know what? I learned a LOT of lessons pulling out those stupid weeds. The kind that reside in my front yard have long, long tentacles that spread out in every direction, and it's so hard to find the true root; I must have wasted so much time pulling at the individual tendrils, which only broke off in my hand, before I found where it started and got the whole thing out. Lesson number 1: there may be many things in my life that are spreading out and clinging to everything, strangling the good, but I can't nit-pick at each annoyance. I need to find the root cause, and that will clear up all of the little sins and mistakes that aren't the true problem. Another thing about weeds is that they grow thickest near the bases of trees (at least in my front yard). I figured it was because the trees take the most nutrients, so if the weeds grow there they can feed off of the nutrients near the tree and good soil. Lesson 2: weeds in my life tend to "grow up" around all of my big dreams and aspirations. The things that God has for my life are the things that are targeted by weeds, because I give them the most energy and effort. Satan plants them there to drain my spirit before I can even get to the "tree." Finally, whenever I would get down on my hands and knees to really get these stupid things up, the gnats would attack. I have a new-found hatred for gnats. They only really got to me when I was pulling up a weed with a vengeance. Lesson 3: When I begin to weed my life, and get rid of all of the sins and temptations growing there, there will be gnats that get in my way, to try and frustrate me away from weeding and letting the stupid things continue to grow. They may be other friends, a busy schedule, or whatever; all gnats that keep me from weeding out my life.

I was SO glad my dad asked me to do this, or I wouldn't have had such an introspective time of soul searching.

On a completely different subject, there is something completely breathtaking about sharing the rain with someone. "Caught in a moment out in the rain, tell me there's something we can say..." Oh Mat Kearney! You somehow know exactly what to say for me. We dance, we laugh, we tell stories and look at the future. There are deep conversations and silent words and plain old talking and the best place for all of the above is on the trunk of my car, with a cool breeze sweeping itself up and over us, beneath the golden glow from a street lamp. We can pick out the contrasting whites, blues, and grays of an overcast sky that sometimes lets a galleon moon wink through, and listen to crickets and thunder rumbling, and pay some small attention to the lightening. I can recite bits of poetry and you can tell me about childhood card games. We're nerds. I'll wave my arms at the sky and tell you it looks like it could snow, and you can look at me like I'm crazy and pretend you're in the past. And then, it rains. It washes away the words and the barriers and leaves us clean and free and raw. Big, fat drops that splash on our faces and soak us immediately, while we dance to no music and it doesn't even matter. You hum something random and I laugh. My forehead is cold and wet and my hair is a mess, but you push my bangs aside and leave a warm, warm mark above my temple and next to the freckle by my hairline. The rain is good and the thunder is low and the lightening illuminates everything we want to see, that which is right before our eyes. Thank you.

Sometimes, I want to take time as a linear entity and roll it up until it's wrapped tight around my finger and I can string it out however I want and whenever I want. There are moments in my life where, as they instantly happen, I think to myself, this has always been happening. This moment has been occurring over and over again until I got far enough down time's line to experience it, but it's always been here, waiting for me. There are moments in my future that are happening right now, waiting to get to me, or really, waiting for me to get to them. Because time in happening in a straight line, like a ladder. Just because you haven't got to the 10th rung yet doesn't mean it doesn't exist. It does exist; you just haven't gotten there. You follow? Sometimes I want to take the things I experience in a few precious minutes and save them, like diamonds, in my heart; maybe I'll turn them into bracelets or necklaces or rings, or maybe I'll twist them into tears or smiles or music notes, which can be replayed over and over again. My own personal time capsule. My future is already mapped out like a constellation; people always think of their life like a series of choices, and one choice leads to many other things, like those books you can read where you pick the ending depending on what page you decide to flip to. But I don't think it's like that. You're choices have already been made, and even though there are billions of stars all over the sky, there's a constellation that's already been connected and decided, and that's your path. You can't know the next star you're connected to, the next moment that's going to take you farther along time's line, but it's already there.

I feel like my head is exploding. Enough. What's there is there, and what's here is here. There's nothing to fear, no room for doubt, no "time" to decide. Let's just do it and do it right. Mm.