Traditions Are Important

     These are the words my cousin Connie said when my sister expressed her desire to learn my mom's zucchini appetizer recipe.

     "Traditions are important."
   
      As I encounter each new experience, I come to know that this is true more and more. With every breath, we inhale and we exhale. With each new experience, we take in something new. We adapt a little more, whether we want to or not. But some of our core being stays with us no matter what minor changes we incorporate into our daily lives. This core being is our traditions.

      With each new morning, we rise and redefine ourselves. There is a brief moment before our awareness fully crests that each of us asks who we are and what we are doing. We answer each day by how we live. We answer by subtly, and often subconsciously, choosing which traditions to carry with us into each new day.

      Today I heard the story of my uncle being born into the Great Depression. I heard the tale of how his aunt bought his mom the rocking chair he is sitting in now because she would need to be able to rock her baby to sleep. I see his name on the rocking horse next to him and recognize it also under the smiling faces of his grandchildren. As I listen to stories from my cousin, I appreciate how she has cared for loved ones I've never met before. And as I begin stories of my own I am grateful to be able to share them. As my uncle points out his five children and their countless grandchildren, he jokingly explains this is what happens when you get married. Beneath the jocularity, however, I appreciate how many lives are touched by this couple, their children,  and their children's children. I appreciate not only being able to witness this firsthand, but also being able to share our family's experience with them as well. And as I realize we are all family, I begin to grasp how far the lessons we teach each other truly extend.

     Traditions are more than important.

     Traditions define who we are.

#boothabroad #almosthome

The Calling Wind

It is a few minutes past midnight. Something calls me to the outside world. I step out into the night and the wind is blowing briskly. I walk down the road in the orange light of the streetlamps. My thoughts turn to prayers.

The wind rushes against me.

As I come to a curve the woods are on my right while the street turns to my left. I turn to my right. I face the woods and a darkened rain gutter smiling on the curb below. My shadow stands still on the pavement in front of me, its faceless head sitting just short of the gutter and the woods behind. I pray that I may never be afraid of the monsters in this world. I turn to walk with the street and see the darkness lifted off the gutter as the streetlamp casts its light over my vision.

The wind flows through my hair and across my face.

I come to a crossing. The cross street is well lit with a dark park on the other side. With no cars coming from either direction the park beckons. As I cross it is obvious I am leaving the light and entering into darkness. An irregular metallic strumming is the only sound to be heard other than the wind through the trees. As I inch deeper into the dark park I take a moment to turn. I see the cross street lit so well and the houses beyond that. Surprisingly, these feel more alien to me than the darkness that now surrounds me. I find a spot in the parking lot and I sit down.

The wind washes over me.

It washes through the trees. I pray that the Spirit that lives in all things moves through me. I pray that the Spirit that lives in me would move others as the wind moves the leaves. I pray that the wind would move me as it moves the clouds, with both subtlety and indomitable force. I pray that the Spirit would overwhelm me and embody itself within me.

I am overcome with the wind.

I stand and begin to return to the beginning. The shadows seem lighter. I pray a prayer that has been a mantra of mine for many years, "Bless me Father, that I may be a blessing to your children."

The wind is at my back.
I am walking with it now.
And it is with me.

I pray to be blessed financially, so that I may be free to pursue the passions put on my heart. I pray that I may be blessed physically, so that I may have the strength to fulfill God's calling to me. I pray that I may be blessed socially, so that wherever I go I may inspire community. I pray that this is more than just where it is intentional, but rather a blessing that is simply inherent. Finally, I pray that I may be blessed spiritually so that I may not lead others astray, but rather simply take them by the hand and walk with them home. And as I look up from my prayer, I approach the porch where the night began.

The wind seems to whisper softly over my shoulder, letting me know that it is always with me, as I return home.

#boothabroad #almosthome