(Repost) Wanderers!

I originally posted this in the summer of 2009 on facebook. Reposted because... well... summer's coming!

So...

If you know me well at all, then you know that I grew up in a family of wanderers. Nomads. Gypsies. Whatever you want to call it, we are a people who don't know how to stay put. If you don't know me well (yet), perhaps the easiest way to sum it up is to say I attended 10 schools from grade six through grade 12. I'm not an "army brat." I'm blue-collar, and proud of it. Mom's a waitress. Dad's in construction. We follow the work. Sometimes this requires a very "flexible" lifestyle.

From all that wandering, I learned some valuable lessons.

1) There is a correct way to load a moving van. There is also a correct way to drive one.
2) Home is people, not places.
3) Everywhere is somewhere. Enjoy it. Your life is someone else's vacation destination.
4) Keep a book handy. They don't need to be plugged in, charged up, or properly loaded. They don't interfere with other people's conversation. You decide when to "play." There is no time limit. If you loose one it's not the end of the world.
5) There is no thing you own that you cannot replace. Some are just harder to find than others. Searching for them can be fun, too.
6) Real friends keep in touch, even if only once-in-a-while.
7) You'd be surprised how far you can stretch $5 when you really need to.
8) A plan is helpful. Trusting in the plan makes all the difference.

I also learned that it's okay to take risks. Sometimes things don't go quite the way you'd hoped. That's frustrating. Annoying. Depressing. Ultimately, though, you will survive. You'll come out on the other side with another great story to tell.

This recession has been hard on construction. Waitresses, too. There hasn't been steady work for months, so it's time to move on. Time for a fresh start in a new place. Actually, not so new. They're heading back to the North East, where they both grew up. Because there hasn't been much work, they made a tough call to try to sell the furniture instead of moving it with them. I know how hard that decision was. A lot of it hasn't sold yet. That makes it even harder. There is no fairy godmother to turn the furniture into gasoline along the way. Still, they need to go, so they'll make do with what they've got. I believe they will be fine. They always are.

My folks are some of the bravest people I know. This year they turn 50. They've been together for 20+ years now. Some folks mark these milestones with roots firmly planted, branches spread, settled in to rest and survey a familiar landscape. Not my folks. They pack up. Pick up. Move out. Don't hesitate (much). Do what it takes.

That's what I want to be like when I'm 50.

BOLD.

The Cactus of Thanksgiving

A couple years back, a friend of mine gave me a flowering cactus, to replace a treasured houseplant that just had not been able to survive my black thumb. She assured me that even I could keep this gem from dying.

Turns out she was right. It's still alive. Even better, it's blooming! Which took me by surprise, partly because I thought it was a Christmas Cactus (she tells me it is actually a Thanksgiving Cactus), and partly because in the last two years, it really hasn't bloomed before. Oh, sure, it has had buds a couple of times. One or two even opened. However, even a garden gnome could see that wasn't all it was capable of.

It's truly blooming now, though, and it looks great. I have to admit, I might have missed it. It's on top of the fridge - not a spot I look at often. Thank God it's so bright, bold, and obvious.

Now, being a black thumb, I'm not really sure why this time is different. It's living environment didn't really change. It's lived on top of my fridge for a while, getting moderate sunlight through the patio door. The amount of water hasn't been changed. The temperature inside is pretty much the same year-round, excepting that we turn the heater down at nights for bed, so winter/fall nights are cooler. Despite all that same-ness, the plant is blooming now, when it hadn't before. So, I know SOMETHING changed. Something indefinable, invisible, and critical. Somehow, now, the plant is finally ready to bloom. God only knows why.

GOD only knows why.

I don't really have to tell you why I thought this was worth a spot here, on this blog, do I? The plant could be me. It could represent my whole life, or just one certain area of it. The plant could be my family, blooming with understanding and compassion. The plant could be my friends, coming into bloom in their jobs and relationships. The plant could be our faith maturing and blooming over time.

I know what it means to me today. Today it is one part of my life, the place where I needed the most encouragement. Chances are, something in your life is like this plant, too.

You're afraid it might be dead or dying. Look again. It isn't. You might just have the wrong name for it, or be expecting it in the wrong season. It's surviving, despite the odds. In fact, it's growing, maturing... even if it's not truly thriving. 

If you think back, you might even remember a time when it sent out little test buds just to remind you that it was alive. A part of your life. Put there by God. Not to taunt and torment you, but to help you have hope. To remind you to look, wait, watch. Because each and every day, your cactus is getting closer to a full, bursting bloom!

Gardeners and farmers understand patience better than just about anyone on earth. Folks like me...well, we need a reminder every now-and-then. I am thankful that God knows just when to send them.