In Praise of Men: Part V

Now these weren't just any two men who were coming to dinner, I thought, as it really opened up and began to pour.  They were the "West Virginia Boys!" who had taken me out fishing on their pontoon boat a few times in the past year.

They had been so nice to me and I wanted to return their hospitality in some small way.  And so I gathered up the wet dishes and napkins at my picnic table as night began to fall. I tidied up things as quickly as I could when in the pouring rain there was someone outside and knocking at my little door.  

"Would you like to come over to our place instead?" Ron asked with his raincoat pulled over his head.

"No, I've already got things set up for us here.  What do you think?" I asked, pushing the door open and stepping aside.

"Oh, that's fine," Ron replied as he looked at the tiny table nestled under the slanting ceiling, all set with placemats and dishes and not much more, because not much more would possibly fit.

 "I'll go get my brother and the chicken and we'll be right back."

And so come back they did, and we crowded into my little camper and with the door still ajar, sat around my tiny table, and not knowing whether the whole camper would tip on its side due to the strain, settled in for a nice meal in the tiniest little restaurant in town. 

In Praise of Men: Part IV

Well, wouldn't you know, but Ron was able to come a few days early and as he pulled into the campground after a 7 hour drive, the folks next to me were pulling away, and so he quickly grabbed their ideal site perched high above the water and asked his brother to drive in with his RV and pontoon boat, if he could, the next day.  

And so the next afternoon they set up their portable lake home and its surrounds, including a large screened room to enclose their picnic table, a charcoal grill, a pancake griddle, refrigerators, fishing coolers, chairs, and who knows what more!  They have this "camping thing" down and have turned what could be a hardship for some into their palace for the next eleven days. 

We decided to have dinner together that night to celebrate their arrival and my departure the next day.  They grilled chicken breasts and made a baked bean dish with a special recipe while I set the picnic table at my campsite with napkins and plates and put the potatoes and green beans on my stove to boil.  

It was hot and humid while I was cooking and so I walked down the trail to the water's edge to try to take in the breeze.  That's when I saw great dark clouds closing in over the water and as I prayed them away, I ran back up to my site while large wet drops of rain began to fall.

Splish. Splash. Splot.   

And I thought, "Oh no!"

In Praise of Men: Part III

And so after visiting with Micaela's family on the breezy waterfront side of the park, I decided that rather than going home on Monday, I would drive around the lake and try to find a campsite of my own by the water's edge and stay for a few more days.

And so on Memorial Day Monday, I drove past hundreds of cars lined up and waiting to exit the parks after a long weekend at play.  I was fortunate though, and zipped right into the park and past all of them as I found one remaining site on the water at a "No Reservations Required" camping loop at Poplar Point Park off Highway 64. 

 

On my way in the ranger told me that the park was completely filled over the weekend, with people camping at all 650 sites.  It was emptying out at last, though, and so I slipped in and set up my camper once again, unloaded my kayak from the top of my car, and paddled out onto the lake, soaking up the gorgeous view.

And before it got too dark, I emailed my friend Ron, who was due to arrive at Jordan Lake in a few days with his brother, and I offered them my awesome campsite to enjoy on Thursday when I would be on my way back home at last.

In Praise of Men: Part II

So where was I?  Oh yeah, there I was, at Vista Point group campground, squeezed in tightly between two large RV's.  

After I got my 12 foot "rig" plugged in and leveled, I went off to meet the others from the group I was joining.  I had hopes of making new friends and since this group camps around the state for long weekends most months of the year, I hoped to find some camping buddies too. 

Just two sites down, there was a tiny travel trailer that in my opinion definitely won the "cuteness" award, with its retro design and little picket fence to contain her dogs.

And so for the rest of the afternoon and all of the following day I met new folks, shared an elegant potluck dinner, hiked, paddled, sat around a campfire, and sized up the group.

By Saturday night I had had enough and was ready to pack up and head home early Sunday morning to make it home in time for Mass. So I approached the friendly family camping behind me and asked the father to help me lift my kayak back up on top of my car, explaining that I was going to make a quick getaway in the morning.  Just as we were setting the boat down on my roof, out came the family from the RV next door. 

First I saw the man whom I had met as I entered the park the day before...the one who had arranged for the pig cooker.  He was followed by his wife who looked awfully familiar.  And then behind them was none other than my daughter's good friend from high school who had spent the night at our house many times over the years.

It was Micaela and her family and I was overjoyed by the amazing coincidence that here we were, right next door to each other...in the same park on the same weekend albeit with different groups ....and even though I had been feeling a bit uncomfortable and alone in this big campground, here we were together...we were THIS CLOSE:

After a round of laughs and hugs, the man holding the other end of my kayak said he was at the park with this family too and they all invited me to stay another day to join them for a swim and a meal where they were celebrating Memorial Day weekend with their church family.

And feeling so relieved and so happy, I did.

In Praise of Men: Part I

Last week I really did it...

Innocently enough, I agreed to go with a friend on a group camping trip at nearby Jordan Lake over Memorial Day weekend.  She would be making day visits for the gathering and I would bring my camper and stay overnight for three days on my own.

Sounded easy enough.

So I packed up my camper and my husband helped me load my kayak on top of my car.  Then I drove the ten miles down the highway to Vista Point campground at Jordan lake.  At the gate, I met a man who was driving out, on his way to pick up a pig cooker for his group's outing.  He was hurried but nice and I told him that I would like to come by later to see how they cooked the pig. And then I checked in with the attendant and headed down the road to the grassy field dotted with 100 water spigots and outlet posts set in rows about 10 feet apart from each other and I surveyed the area.

Two women from the group I was meeting called out my name and welcomed me and then I selected a narrow site squeezed between two huge RV's that seemed to offer a little afternoon shade.  The man organizing our group's outing came over to me then and advised me to turn my wheel this way and that until finally my little camper was settled into a level area in my targeted zone.


Before I could even snap the walls and roof in place, another man hustled over to ask whether his motorcycle might be able to pull a little camper like mine.  I said I thought that it would as I brushed past him to pull out my heavy wooden Marian Shrine and hang it above the door.

"Woah!  Do you want some help with that?  I'm a carpenter and can help you get it level," he offered as I stood on my tip toes in the doorway of my camper and with my arms stretched out straight above my head, hoisted it above the door.

"Tip it a little to the left.  Now to the right" he advised as I made the final adjustments and regarded my work with satisfaction.

Stepping away too, he laughed and exclaimed, "It takes all kinds!"  And he quickly put distance between himself and me as he disappeared into the sea of camping rigs.

Have no anxiety at all (Phil 4:6)

Anxiety: I noticed it for the first time when I faced the unrelenting academic pressure as a young adult in college and then again when I lived and worked in Manhattan.

I see it again from time to time as I reach out to reenter the job market after raising our kids.

It is tempting to just grab control of the reins and take any job to help meet our financial goals rather than wait on God and His providence.

So rather than force a solution to my current dilemma, when anxiety hits I try most of all to keep my eyes on God and His vision for me and my life.

Fr. Cameron's editorial in the Magnificat magazine this month talks about anxiety in the context of the Disciples' reaction to the Risen Christ.

"With the single exception of sin, anxiety is the greatest evil that can happen to a soul." St. Francis de Sales

It is a fear of the unknown--a fear of a disagreeable situation that is unforeseen and unforeseeable, a fear of future misfortune. It is also a worry of being insufficient to meet life's challenges.

I think that fundamentally, it is a lack of belief in God and/or a trust that He is with me in all things.

Anxiety is also a sometimes insistent and uncomfortable invitation to give my worries to God.

"Living in dependence on God means not being one's own master, not wanting to take charge of the world oneself; it means saying good-bye to the dream of autonomy and of being one's own boss, it means recognizing that we cannot do it on our own, and learning to accept our life day by day from his hands, without anxiety and full of confidence." Pope Benedict XVI

Praise God that I do not have to do life all on my own! ❤️

- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

Watts Out There: The Good Shepherd

Oh, just look at these sheep!

So innocent.

Content in their little group.

Chomping away on their ration of hay. 

So cuddly cute looking up at me 

from their secure wooden pen

 on that cold February morning

 at Brookgreen Zoo.

Do you think that God looks down on us this way?

I remembered these sheep today as we celebrated "Good Shepherd Sunday" at St. Mary Magdalene Catholic Church.

And I began to think of my life in a new way.

You see, I have always thought of myself as an independent person.  Self sufficient.  Able to adapt. As a girl whose family moved from Oregon to Michigan to New York to North Carolina, I didn't have life long friends or a sense of belonging to a particular community outside my family.  In college at UNC, my beliefs and values were tried and challenged as I struggled to emerge as an independent adult.

Not long after graduating, I jumped into an even bigger melting pot of people as I moved to Manhattan to begin my career.  In a large and vibrant city where anything and everything often goes, I met many people who seemed larger than life and even harder to believe!  But after a few years I married and moved back home.

And now even more years have been filled with marriage and children, extended family and friends, work and travels and...

Somewhere along the way, I have come to realize that my greatest happiness lies not so much in trying to be my most authentic self,  but rather in belonging to Someone greater than me.

Why is that?







Over the years when I have thought about what my and perhaps everyone's deepest desire is, it seemed to be this: to be known and loved for the person who I truly am.

Now I know that while I am of value and even precious just because I "am", I also realize that all that is in me is not particularly perfect or good ....  Much of what I see when I look down inside myself is self interested, self serving, self righteous and more.  I believe those things are there for protection because of the things I have seen, experienced, suffered, and now wish to avoid.

So along with that great desire to be known and loved, there is something else.  I know that I do not wish to be affirmed in all that I am, but rather, I deeply desire to become the best person that God imagines that I can be.

Why give that to God?  Because I trust Him to be truly good.  To have not just my best interests in mind, but also those of all the others I share this/His life with.  

So hearing the words of St. John proclaimed at Mass today, "Beloved, we are God's children now," my heart leapt with recognition that this is truly my deepest desire and my greatest joy.

And then I listened as Jesus announced, "I am the good shepherd.  A good shepherd lays down his life for his sheep.  A hired man who is not a shepherd and who's sheep are not his own, sees a wolf coming and leaves the sheep and runs away and the wolf catches and scatters them.  This is because he works for pay and has no concern for the sheep.  I am the good shepherd, and I know mine and mine know me,  just as the Father knows me and I know the Father; and I will lay down my life for the sheep."

Tonight I am thankful that through my Baptism, I belong to Jesus now.  He keeps me safe from the false shepherds and wolves that are always about, and leads me with the rest of His flock through green pastures and safe waters until we will one day reach our heavenly home.  Praise God!

A psalm of David.

The LORD is my shepherd;^*

there is nothing I lack.^a

2

In green pastures he makes me lie down;

to still waters he leads me;

3

He guides me along right paths^*

for the sake of his name.

4

Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death,^c

I will fear no evil, for you are with me;

your rod and your staff comfort me.

II

5

in front of my enemies;^*

You anoint my head with oil;^*d

my cup overflows.^e

6

Indeed, goodness and mercy^* will pursue me

all the days of my life;

I will dwell in the house of the LORD^f

for endless days.