Just read a share . . .

 . . . about how carefree childhood was.

This person obviously didn't live my childhood. I'm glad for them, really, and without bemoaning too much on my own behalf, too.

Self-ignorance, self-knowledge, self-definition

Here's another example in which we have a desirable characteristic with pitfalls on each side of it. Is all of life this way? And even the positive part can be taken out of context and made into a priority at its own expense, sort of like striving for happiness. Wonderful state, terrible priority. Self-knowledge is different from that, though. I'm convinced we can never in the slightest degree move from self-ignorance to self-knowledge until we make a conscious decision to accept that as a goal, though we do need to be careful not to esteem it too highly among our priorities or we become too self-centered and it more easily tends to self-definition. In fact, it is more of a pilgrimage than a destination, as it is what happens along the way that allows us to really discover ourselves, if we're observant. And perhaps it is somewhat normal for us to abandon the quest, or at least to set it aside for a time, and come back to it periodically as the need arises.

It is crucial, though, that we don't allow what we come to know about ourselves to define us in a way that prevents us from growing as we need to. The purpose of self-discovery is not primarily to "accept and love ourselves as we are," though there may be elements of that in it. Rather, we need to know ourselves so that we can choose to respond to our circumstances in accordance to what has worked and not worked for us in the past and, more importantly, in the way that will allow us to grow into God's vision for us as his holy, beloved sons and daughters.

This is where our labeling of ourselves can so get in our way. When we think of ourselves as liberal or conservative, gay or straight (or bi- or pansexual), holy or secular, emotional or analytical, flexible or methodical, etc. etc. etc., we can begin to respond to each situation we face according to our definition of ourselves rather than according to God's loving will for that circumstance. If "I respond this way because I am that label," or even "because I always respond in this way," we can become stifled in our walk.  If, on the other hand, "I know I tend to respond this way," and I ask, "How am I called to respond now?" in holiness and grace, I may find growth I can never even seek without this combination of self-knowledge and trust in God.

We are called to so much more than we accept, and the reason we fail to accept it is that we feel intimidated by it. The one label we will never apply to ourselves in our practical living is "holy, saint, child of God." We have enough self-knowledge to know that can't apply to us, but not enough God-knowledge to accept that he will make us what we can never otherwise be. This is why self-knowledge should not be too high on our priority list for very long.

(Inspired by a headline on an advice column, Tuesday, I think, and reinforced by the last two days' reflections from St. Augustine.)

Boasting in afflictions (edited)

Therefore, since we have been justified by faith, we have peace with God through our Lord Jesus Christ, through whom we have gained access (by faith) to this grace in which we stand, and we boast in hope of the glory of God. Not only that, but we even boast of our afflictions, knowing that affliction produces endurance;, and endurance, proven character; and proven character, hope; and hope does not disappoint, because the love of God has been poured out into our hearts through the holy Spirit that has been given to us. - Rom 5, 1-5

This scripture passage from tomorrow's mass really resonated with me today. I am far too prone to complain about my afflictions than to boast about them, I too often fail to recognize that God's perfect providence is at work in the midst of them.

This latest circumstance with our middle daughter provides a great opportunity for us to share God's bounteous love with her, and we are blessed with the means to do that. A rude and completely inappropriate comment our oldest daughter made to my wife this afternoon really got under my skin, until she provided an unprompted and clearly sincere apology. Then it became an opportunity to affirm her for her insight and humility after the fact (which is sometimes the hardest time to face a mistake). This morning I was asked by a friend to talk with his son, whose wife has been touched by some of the same childhood issues I have had to deal with; he has no idea how to help his bride. So even this long dark affliction of my youth may become an opportunity for someone else to be blessed by healing.

Right now I know several people who are going through tremendous afflictions. I hope one or two of them might read this and know that God is at work even in the midst of them. I admire their character, and I pray that it will lead them to hope that does not disappoint and a deep sense of the love of God at work in their hearts and lives.

Conditional affection

So the reason you didn't kiss me when you came to bed Monday night is that you were mad at me for not telling you when I was going to bed? I guess you thought that kiss at the top of the stairs as you were headed down to watch Hawaii Five-O was just in general. I said then that I was headed back to the bedroom; you probably just missed it in your rush to get downstairs. But I'm less concerned about that specific miscommunication than I am about these two trends:

• First, every night since we got home you've been watching something I don't want to watch.  I know we're going to have different interests, but there are - or were when we got home - at least six shows on the DVR I would have watched with you. You've been watching things that interest me when I'm not home and things I hate when I am. How am I supposed to interpret that?

• Secondly, it seems to me that you've increasingly allowed your affective actions toward me to become dependent on how you're feeling in the moment. Too often, like Monday night, there's a misunderstanding involved, but that wouldn't happen so often or last so long if you didn't assume the worst and then act on that assumption. I know that a degree of this is unavoidable, and I never want you to pretend to feel something that you don't. Yet I'd also hope that we share an underlying love that is deep enough to undergird any temporary hurt, anger or frustration we feel toward each other, such that we continue to express that love even in the face of current feelings that are not especially affectionate, especially when greeting or taking leave from each other (including at the beginning or end of the day). I often make a conscious effort to express my love for you even when I'm feeling frustrated, not to hide my feelings from you but to remind both of us of our commitment to each other. The truth is that I wasn't upset with you when I went to bed, but you assumed I was because you thought I didn't kiss you goodnight. (I can't help but wonder if that assumption was based on being defensive about your choices?)

I know we've just gotten back from a wonderful vacation together, but it's time we both started making time for us in our day-to-day life. I'm growing tired of having some variation on this conversation every six months or so.

I love you deeply, and I am committed to you for life. I know that we're each always going to have many interests that the other doesn't share. But I am often frustrated by living separate lives because of our lack of common ground. It's important that we build on our commonality and reaffirm our love regularly.

A bit of Javert in him

Karl always seemed supremely confident in the rightness of his position, which usually seemed appropriate since he was careful to submit himself to Church teaching in most matters. Sometimes he carried it to an extreme, and in one case made the newspapers in a rather gross way for this; the homosexual community hated him for how he expressed what he considered to be the truth with what must have seemed to them an utter lack of love and respect.

We were invited to their house after that, just once, for a cookout, and had a lovely time with him and his wife. I think it was probably in appreciation for the letter of support I shared with him while he was in trouble. We had a very nice time that evening. But by no means would I describe myself as close to Karl. I know another man who would certainly consider himself a good friend to him, and I hope he is at peace in his spirit as he deals with Karl's suicide. I learned of his death while we were in Hawai'i, but only discovered last night that it was by his own hand.

I had no idea he was in such emotional turmoil. It illustrates how even investing our faith in the teachings of the Church won't make us emotionally healthy or protect us from despair, I guess. It's amazing how we can believe all the right things and still not have an intimate relationship with Jesus that transforms and heals us. My friend at Lompoc has been learning the same lesson in another way. I suppose that one difference between them is that this friend does, in fact, have a relationship with Jesus that has been carrying through his difficult days. He becomes more cognizant of the Lord's presence and work in his life each day.

And yet, even now, my own relationship with Him doesn't keep me from sometimes feeling despair, even if I mostly manage to avoid being in it.

Shaving in a dream

I didn't even remember the dream until I was shaving in the morning, when a tenth of a second of deja vu dissolved into humorous recognition. In my dream, I was trying to shave the coarse hairs near the base of my neck as Herb tried to get me to hurry up and finish, that most people don't even worry about trying to shave those.

Weird.

Pentecost celebration

When I saw the great weather on Sunday afternoon, I was concerned about the turnout we'd get for our Pentecost celebration. Still, I'm pretty sure we were over a hundred folks, with an interesting mixture of those who came for the traditional elements of adoration and benediction versus those who came for the charismatic elements of praise and worship.  It was especially nice to have Joey along playing keyboard for us, and a treat that Steve joined us again on bass, apparently at the last minute.  I thought that Bruce had confirmed him weeks ago, and was really surprised on Saturday night when Bruce called and indicated that wasn't the case.  I don't know what happened with the miscommunication, but at least he was still available!

Father Angelo Anthony gave us a fascinating image of Holy Spirit from the Irish tradition, where the Spirit is depicted as a wild goose rather than as a dove. We think of a dove being an image of peace, and the Spirit does indeed bring peace in the midst of our turmoil. Yet more often the first documented action attributed to the Holy Spirit at Pentecost was to overcome the disciples' fear and spur them into action, so the wild goose image seems somehow appropriate, too. It was a really uplifting and inspiring reminder to not be complacent and docile with regard to our faith.

We had prayer support from an unexpected and distant quarter, too.  At dinner on the island of Hawai'i, our entertainer was a guitarist whose playing and singing styles and repertoire had much overlap with my own. We were sitting closest to him, so I was able to give him specific feedback on things I especially appreciated about his music through the course of the evening. He was loop back-tracking himself with a pedal to keep the guitar rhythm part going which he could then play lead against, and there was one particular piece - it may have been Wonderful Tonight, but I think it was a different one - on which his lead was just sublimely tasteful. After he finished - we'd gotten a late start on dinner - he asked me about my musical background, and I shared that I play mostly at church. He mentioned he was a praise and worship leader at his church, as well, so we also had that in common. So on the way out I asked him specifically to pray for our Pentecost celebration on Sunday, as we'd be getting back into town on Saturday evening and then would be gathering about 9:00 (his time) on Sunday. He said he'd be glad to, then gave me two CDs of his, which I need to put in the car so I can have a listen. Rupert Tripp, Jr., thanks for your contribution to a special evening of a great vacation, and thanks especially for your prayer support!

If You Could Read My Mind

As I prepared for work this morning, Gordon Lightfoot's lyrics were flowing through my brain, seeming to resonate:

In a castle dark or a fortress strong
With chains upon my feet
You know that ghost is me
And I will never be set free
As long as I'm a ghost that you can't see 

and then:

When you reach the part where the heartaches start
The hero would be me
But heroes often fail
And you won't read that book again
Because the ending's just too hard to take

I was thinking about learning and singing this song.  It wasn't until I was getting in the car to go to work that I recalled the concluding lyric:

I don't know where we went wrong
But the feelin's gone
And I just can't get it back

Immediately - and gratefully - I realized that this song isn't really applicable to me at all. "The feeling" is by no means gone, and whatever the chains, ghost, and fallen hero represent in my story or song, they are  not the burden of being in a loveless relationship.

Tragedy

Praying this morning for all of the OKC-area tornado victims.

Such a good time!

The last day of our visit started with a school production that is apparently a big deal each year. They called it their May Day celebration, though Hawai'i generally celebrates this holiday on the first of May along with the rest of the world, as a spring festival. Thursday night before bed, Cassie noticed that Nicademus had played in the sprinkler with his shoes on, even though she'd told him not to. At that point she gave him a choice for the next morning: flip flops or wet sneakers. I don't remember which he chose; perhaps he expected mom to put them in the dryer for him, and maybe she even indicated while she was out of my earshot that she would try. But as the evening worked out, there wasn't a good chance for her to do that, and in the morning Nic reneged on whichever choice he had made the night before. So g-ma and I took Hannah to school while mom and dad worked out Nicademus' issues and got the other girls ready. We were trying to figure out the best place to camp at the school field to see the kiddos dance, but as it turns out there was no good choice. We also kept an eye out for mom and dad's arrival with the rest of the kids (and the chairs we'd need for seats). Finally we saw them, Nic on his crutches, little Nic needing to be taken to his classroom. I quickly walked across the field to meet them and remove Cassie's burden of chairs so she could take her little guy to where he needed to be, and we set up in a place that really didn't afford us a good view of where either of the kids were in their dance formations. Oh well. The program was filled with mostly traditional Hawai'ian dances by each of the grades, in the large field behind the school. The kindergarten classes, however, including our grandson Nicademus, did the ChaCha Slide. It was a fun program.

Afterward we headed back to the house, where Madelyn needed her morning nap and the rest of us needed to figure out what beach we were going to. It turned out that the choice was Bellows, but Nicademus wasn't pleased with that - he was afraid the surf would be too rough for him - and decided to hang out at home with daddy instead. The rest of us gathered our stuff together and headed out.

I had never boogie boarded before. I'm pretty sure I'll never enjoy it more than I did my first time with my granddaughter Hannah! The particular place near the east end of Oahu is one of Cassie's favorite for hanging out with the kids, with a small streamlet which also has sea water that washes into it from the surf.  It provides a nice balance for the smaller kids to be able to play in calm, shallow water while the bigger kids can play in the surf. On the other side of the breakers is the beautiful ocean, and the sand there is the finest we encountered all trip.

On Monday the surf was a little rough, but Hannah was able to get comfortable with her boogie board in the inlet area, and Emma and Grandma boarded for a while, too. After a while I grabbed a board and hung out with Hannah for a bit, venturing out far enough from the inlet that I could tell she was ready for the big beach. She was a little nervous at first, but soon got the hang of it, and we ended up having a great time! I was glad to be able to off her the additional security of my presence; I only hope she doesn't get so emboldened by the experience as to become careless in her future beach play!

It was a wonderful way to spend our last day in Hawai'i. We made our way back to the house through the traffic, and hung out there until we shared our teary goodbyes with everyone. As usual, Hannah was the most upset at our departure, along with g-ma and I. We love and treasure our time with them, and hate it when we have to leave!

Next-to-last day in Hawai'i

Our last couple days on the island might have played out a little differently had we not lost all of Wednesday afternoon to our flight delay. (Just in case you need the reminder: avoid Go! airlines if you can!) My bride was still justifiably lamenting a lack of beach time on our two trips to Hawai'i in a little more than 5 months, and I had to make that up to her rather than pursuing something else I might have preferred to do. I don't have anything to complain about, though, as these last two days were plenty enjoyable for me. Friday will be a separate post.

We decided that Thursday afternoon would be grandparents' beach time by ourselves, and Friday would be family beach time, with the kids out of school early. We got a later start than we'd planned because the logistics of the day made it easier for us to get the kids from school. Then we suited up and headed on out.

We were trying to decide between the parks at Haleiwa Beach and Waimea Beach.  The former would have offered calmer water than we'd seen on the weekend at Waimea, which can be a bit of a crap shoot for conditions. It would have made for some good snorkeling, though, as there is a lot of coral rock there. But I thought we might go there the following day with the grandchildren, so we headed toward Waimea instead.  The traffic was so much lighter than it had been when we were out on the weekend, and we noticed that there was plenty of parking available at Laniakea Beach, commonly referred to as "Turtle Beach" for the green sea turtles that beach themselves there. We'd visited several times on our previous trip, finally managing to see a turtle on shore, but had never tried to swim there; the surf had always been quite rough, which made the spot popular with surfers, but we had noticed a lot of small rocky areas along with the sandy beach.  But for the first time the traffic was light enough for me to notice a lifeguard station there, so I realized there must have been some satisfactory swimming areas, and we quickly decided to give it a shot. It turns out that a turtle was sunning itself on the shore there, and remained there for the full 90 minutes or so we spent at the beach. We didn't realize that at first; it was hard to tell from the distance where we'd set up our beach blanket. Meanwhile I decided to work my way back toward the lifeguard station, and found a suitable area for swimming where I could enter the water safely and do my first ever bit of snorkeling.  I wasn't very good at it, and after a short while began wading in the surf back toward our blanket.  Suddenly I spotted two turtles in the water about 10 feet away.  Knowing that we're supposed to keep our distance from them, I resisted the temptation to put my mask back on and snorkel toward them, and they soon headed back out further from the shore. But it was very cool being so close to them in the water.

When I got back to my wife, I could tell that the lump on the sand in the other direction was a beached turtle, so we made our way over for a look.  She was considerably larger than the one we'd seen briefly in December.  She'd been there long enough that they'd placed a cordon on the sand to keep folks from approaching too closely, and had identified her and set out her placard. I swam in the area for a while, then walked back to retrieve our phones so we could each grab a couple pictures. I was disappointed I hadn't grabbed the camera bag for one of the few times of the entire vacation. The volunteer there explained that there had been three turtles in the area when this one had beached, but the other two had been spooked off by the people in the water. Perhaps they were the two I'd seen a little while before. After a while we headed back to our blanket so Teri could grab a bit more sun. Then we stopped back in Haleiwa Town for our (second and) last shaved ice of the trip. Yum!

Choosing the best for ourselves

Baptism inaugurates us into the life of Christ, and the other sacraments increase that life in us. We are meant to grow daily in this dimension of Christ-union. In the process, many seeds in us have to be relinquished and let fall into the good soil of his love if we are to bear those fruits of his Spirit for which we were made. We have to invite and submit to change.  We have to agree to the pain of renouncing one good in order to embrace a higher one. Constantly we have to be dying on one level in order to be reborn and renewed on another. - Barbara Dent, My Only Friend Is Darkness

In the process of discovering who we are, which is an important journey for us, we often lose sight of the more important quest: who is Christ, who are we in him, and how are we to come to the fullness of who we might become in him? Our society teaches us to embrace - even to indulge - parts of ourselves that we should really let go of. We grab that one snippet of Polonius' advice to Laertes, "To thine own self be true," and apply it to mean that the greatest betrayal we can commit is to not be the person we've decided we are.

A greater one is to not become the person we might be because we are unwilling to understand ourselves critically in the light of God's love and calling for us. Yes, "God loves me just as I am," it's true. Yet we often apply that to mean that we should embrace and celebrate even parts of ourselves that are not God's will for our lives. These are seeds which God would have us discover about ourselves specifically so that we might let them fall to the ground and die so that we might become the sacred saints he is calling each of us to be.

And this is especially challenging when the part of ourself that should die appears to us to be a good or desirable thing. A driven professional can accomplish great things in the world of commerce and greatly aid the fiscal means of a broad spectrum of her coworkers, yet eventually discover that there is another, humbler work to which she is truly called. An athlete with freakish physical talents works relentlessly to reach the pinnacle of his sport, yet discovers along the way that his fame and glory will fade to painful, aimless nostalgia unless they are woven into the fabric of the greater tapestry of his entire life. In our day, it has become commonplace for those prone to a vast array of sexual expressions to attribute their choices to what they consider a nobler motivation than others who have chosen the exact same set of actions for their own reasons.

My greatest admiration is for those who struggle against a personal weakness that others would advise them to embrace for the sake of being true to themselves. I've recently read a couple of articles by men who are trying to reconcile their same-sex attraction with their calling to personal holiness. The process of letting go of part of ourselves - especially a part that we consider a treasured gift - so that we might become more fully the beloved son or daughter which God wants us to become for our own greater good always hurts. And it can feel impossible for us, especially when we are struggling to believe that God loves us so unfathomably, that God does indeed know better than we do what is best for us, that God has made no secret of what that is, and that God does not in fact wish to punish us for who we are but really desires us to become all that we cannot become if we embrace that which is contrary to God's will for us. We do not trust in God's love for us, though. When we believe in God, we mistake him for being too much like us in the selfish way that we love, when there is no selfishness in God's nature whatsoever.

Indeed, God gave up God's very self in order to become what we needed to become fully our self.

So when we discover some gift that seems precious about ourselves, the first question we should ask is how we can offer this precious gift to God in a way that leads to our sanctification, our continued transformation in him, rather than wrapping our arms tightly around it in a refusal to submit it to God's will.

A longer than expected 3rd day on Hawai'i . . .

. . .  and back to Oahu. Just a few quick thoughts:

• Another very nice breakfast. Dennis, our host at Plumeria Hills Bed and Breakfast, runs a great place. If you're ever looking for somewhere to stay in the Puna district, I strongly recommend this place!
• A brief stop by Hilo Bay left me longing for a chance to paddle an outrigger canoe across its smooth surface.
• Really, if we'd known we were going to have four hours of delay in the airport, we could have had some canoe time.
• Go! airlines never gets another cent of my money unless I hear from reliable sources that they've resolved their reliability and timeliness issues.
• My efforts to avoid Honolulu at rush hour were well warranted. H1 is no fun at 5 p.m.
• It is good to be back with family.  It's going to be so hard to leave them tomorrow.

Day 2 (with pics)

Oh my!  What an incredible world!! What an incredible corner of it!!

Today started with a fabulous breakfast from our host, including lots of fresh fruit (including some delicious crepes), a delicious local sausage, and pecan flavored almond butter croissant french toast. Then it was off to the Hawai'i Volcanoes National Park, and one wonder after another. The park focuses heavily on Kilauea, with the far more massive Mauna Loa as a backdrop to it. As we drove around Crater Rim Drive, after putting together our game plan at the visitor's center, we stopped first at the steam vents viewing area. ₂ fumes. Instead, her health status and energy level served as an effective barometer for keeping the visit from getting too strenuous for her knee.

View of Kilauea caldera from steam vents observation point

This provided our first impressive view of the Kilauea caldera, and had it been the last one we would have been amply impressed.

View of Kilauea crater from Jaggar Museum

The two successive stops were each more impressive than the last, ending with the well positioned Jaggar Museum with its observation deck. Had Teri been in better hiking shape rather than feeling sick, we might have been disappointed that the trails across the caldera are all closed due to SO₂.

Thurston lava tube

After spending a little time at the museum, we next headed down to the Thurston lava tube. This was also incredibly impressive!

Next up was a drive down Chain of Craters road. We didn't make it to the bottom before Teri ran out of gas, but viewed one impressive site after another until she had all she could stand.  On leaving the park we found a little cafe for some lunch - probably our most affordable meal purchase in our two visits to the islands, but appropriately so given its pedestrian quality. We then headed back to our room for a brief nap before trying to find a beach.

Roadside pull-off on the coastal road to Kalapala

Which turned out to be a vain errand, but we still had one neat adventure after another for the remainder of the afternoon and into the evening. We drove along the ocean where I thought our host had indicated we would find a beach, but this was not the case (unless "rocky coast" is a synonym for beach on the leeward side of Hawai'i) until we ended up back at Kalapala and the black sand beach. We ventured down onto the beach this time, and though we didn't swim we did wade in the breaking surf. It was a special time (my only new pic from this visit to the beach is already on FB). We also took a family picture for a young mom and dad who were their with their two pre-school sons.

MacKenzie Park

We were beginning to run out of daylight, but still wanted some real beach time if we could find it. So we headed back toward Pahoa, which I thought would be the quickest route to the only remaining areas on our host's map where we could hope to find a suitable beach. The roads we were driving on during all this time were incredible, including some winding one-laned sections, vegetation surrounding the road on both sides occasionally giving way to a view of the ocean and the rocky coastline. In one section, the lava trees seemed to form walls and a canopy over the road. We went to a couple of parks. First was Isaac Hale Beach Park, but again, we found only rocky areas; perhaps we didn't venture far enough away from the parking area. Next was MacKenzie Park, which turned out to be a good 50 feet above sea level, though the breaking waves splashed up onto the lava shelf at a couple of points.

Now that it was too dark to continue beach hunting, we returned to our room and changed clothes for dinner. And now I can believe that Kaleo's may be the best restaurant on the island. Oh, my, what a meal!! I had an incredible edamame hummus appetizer served with fried pita wedges; Teri's corn chowder was comped when it was served as it was the bottom of the pot and didn't have much substance, though what was there was delicious. My entree' was a fried ahi filet served with rice and a wonderful slaw that I just can't do justice. Teri had a yummy-looking chicken parmesan, and we finished the meal off with a banana lumpia served with ice cream. Oh, and we were sitting right next to a fine guitarist whose repertoire heavily overlapped my own, who it turns out is also praise and worship leader in his church and is going to be praying for me on Sunday during our citywide Pentecost celebration in Dayton.

Teri wasn't feeling up to a return to the observation deck for a night view of the Kilauea caldera, which I think would have been spectacular to see. However, on the drive back to our room, as we were amazed by the vast array of stars visible in the night sky, I noticed the Southern Cross before us. I hadn't seen it on our previous trip or earlier on this one, due to either light pollution on Oahu or cloud cover, but I have always wanted to. It turns out that my window of opportunity was pretty narrow, as I looked out for one more peak at the night sky before retiring for the night, but quite a bit of it is now obscured by clouds.

First day on The Big Island:

It was so hard to say goodbye to our sweet grandchildren this morning; even though we'll be back in two days, we'll also only have two days left with them. I'm thankful that Friday's flight is late, so we'll at least have the whole day with them.

The flight to Hilo was delayed, as were five of the other six flights from Go! airlines on the departure board. The other inter-island carriers seemed to all be running on time, by comparison. There was also an adventure with getting our bag once we landed: they announced the wrong baggage claim on the plane, sending us to the opposite end of the airport. By the time we realized it and got to the correct carousel there were no bags there; they had apparently removed our bag to the ticket counter, only there was no one manning the ticket counter either time I walked past it. But we finally got our bag, and our car, and made our way to our B&B, the Plumeria Hill Bed and Breakfast, near Pahoa in the Puna region.

The view from our room is wonderful!

On the owner's recommendation, we went to the local restaurant he called "the best on the island." It was indeed a very nice meal, but if it really is the best restaurant on the island then there is a dearth of fine eateries here and someone should plan on making a killing with a high-end bistro.

After lunch we returned to the room for a short nap before heading out to try to find the lava viewing area. First we stopped at the town of Kalapana, almost by mistake. We were looking for the lava viewing area, drove into town first, then backtracked to a road that was marked with signs indicating that access was restricted to those authorized to enter. So turning back around, we returned to Kalapana, where we were informed that it was about a fifteen minute walk to the beach, and that we would see the steam plume in the distance where the lava was flowing into the ocean.

Indeed we did, but I could tell we would never be able to see the actual flow into the ocean from here, as it was clearly too far away.

Still, the lava fields are incredibly striking, with the stark contrast of the vegetation growing in the midst of a sea of black rock.

I'd been lamenting how limited our time here on the island is going to be, fearing we weren't going to be able to see the famous unique beaches here. But soon the lava rock under our feet gave way to black sand . . .






. . . and cresting the last short rise in the path we beheld the world famous black sand beach.

We simply enjoyed some time in the presence of the crashing surf and each other's company before walking back in to Kalapana town.

On the way in, one of the tour guides saw me taking a picture of the smoldering lava flow off in the distance, and let us know that if we proceeded beyond the restricted access sign we'd previously encountered we would reach the lava flow viewing area. By the time we got there it was getting dark, and my lack of a camera tripod kept me from getting any decent shots of the glowing lava in the distance. Still, it was a very impressive sight.  We were standing on a two-year old lava flow, surrounded by a 23-year old lava field with vegetation sprouting all over it. The staff member at the viewing area told us that, prior to the 2011 lava flow, the viewing area had been significantly closer to where the lava enters the ocean. We could still only see the steam plume. There are paid excursions that would get us closer, but I doubt that will be on our agenda.

What an incredible day!!

Kindred spirit

I feel despair, yet I am not in despair. - Barbara Dent, quoting herself in a letter to a close friend, in My Only Friend Is Darkness.

The subtitle is Living the Night of Faith. But it seems to me that there must be a difference between St.John's dark night of the soul and a simple lack of spiritual discipline and maturity.

Waimea Falls and Beach

(All photos are at the falls)

What a great day.  Madelyn stayed home and hung out with Daddy, while Mommy and the other three and g-ma and I went for an outing. Waimea Falls has a beautiful botanical garden with an abundance of tropical flora from many different areas. At the end of the trail is a waterfall, with swimming. Very cool. It was an economical outing, too, as the family purchased an annual pass to the facility, so only Grandma and I had to pay admission.

I was a little frustrated, though. I would have liked to have spent more time in the pool and less behind the lens. That just wasn't working out, though.  It turns out to be just as well, as the mild sunburn on my shoulders would certainly have been worse had I spent more time out in the sun.

My Facebook page has some different pictures of this outing.

After we finished with the falls, g-ma caught the shuttle back down to the entrance while Mommy and I walked with the kiddos. But as g-ma was the only passenger on the extended golf cart that served as a shuttle, the driver stopped as she passed us walking and offered to let us ride. We put the grandchildren on board with grandma while Cassie and I continued our walk.


We weren't sure whether a trip to the beach was still in the cards after we finished at the falls.  We had given up on it due to the lack of a parking space, when two young men walking past from the beach let us know they were parked in the last spot on the right.  There was a very light mist which our daughter informs us is the predominate form of rain here during the summer, but we decided to risk the beach anyway.

It turns out there were very strong waves breaking right at the shore, so the kids couldn't really get in, and g-ma wasn't interested in braving those conditions either.  However, the kids did stay at the edge of the water, letting the waves wash over their feet and more.  A couple of times the undertow started to carry one or the other of them out, but I was positioned in the water where I could grab them quickly and return them to safety. Then we had them go further up onto the shore with grandma while Mommy and I swam a bit and body surfed a couple of waves.

All in all, it was a really fun day. On the way back to the car, we saw the greatest rainbow! It seemed extremely close, between us and the nearby mountain, and was a pretty flat section of arc. Unfortunately my camera and phone were in the car, and by the time we got back there it was no longer visible.

A few moments of panic

So, on our second time getting a temporary pass, on our second trip trip here, the staff at the gate tells us for the first time that, because our rental agreement indicates that we have declined the car rental company's insurance, we can't be allowed access to the post without proof of our own insurance. I could have shown them the documentation they insisted on via my phone had I just been able to remember the damned password. My passworded password file, however, was on my computer, which was already on the post due to their previously and consistently lax enforcement of their proof-of-insurance requirement.

A civilian member of the staff proceeded to lecture us at length about how foolish it is to *ever* decline the rental car company's insurance, primarily based on the threat of an unscrupulous agency charging our credit card for damage that was already done to the vehicle. Then he provided the pass we needed.

Since I don't have any way of printing here, I now have my insurance account info on my smart phone. The first time I try to use it I'm sure to be highly anxious that this won't be good enough.

Ready for this vacation to start!

This has been the hardest vacation ever for me to get ready for. In addition to the lack of sleep this week, we didn't plan things very well in advance, which left us scrambling for last-minute arrangements for our side trip to the big island. There has been too much to do and too little time to do it. The limited number of people who are available for us to visit in the time we have in Washington is a little disappointing, but a drive down to Oregon to visit my cousins just isn't doable.

But there's a big upside to that last part: we get to start our vacation by relaxing!  What a concept!!

Honest-intentioned advertising - but not in effect

On the way back from not casting an early ballot at lunch time today - because it turns out that there isn't a special election for my precinct next week while we're gone - I drove through the Oregon Historic District. Two long-standing storefronts on its "main drag," directly across the street from each other and I believe owned and run together, are a pair of "adult-oriented" businesses; from the outside one seems to focus on movies and the other on "toys."

The marquee on one of them brazenly beckons with the enticement of PURE JOY FOR ALL.

I'm sure that's what they're trying to offer. Unlike a true charlatan, they may even believe it's what they're delivering. I think a more accurate description of what they're peddling would be: IMPURE PASSING PLEASURE FOR THE ENSLAVED.  The marquee has plenty of room to display the truth.

Oh, that I had no clue of what I speak.

Tuesday night's scripture reading

Following praise and worship at each prayer meeting, we have a period in which we listen quietly for word gifts. Our group has several prophets through whom the Lord speaks messages of encouragement to us, and I will usually get a scripture reading - often before the first prophetic word is spoken - which usually turns out to underscore or complement the messages given. I generally look for this reading before the words are spoken, but don't share it until after; in this way, neither the passage to which I am led nor others' speaking influence each other; this tends to keep us from doubting whether the unity of these messages is merely due to suggestibility on our part.

The reading to which I was led on Tuesday supported strongly the encouraging, prophetic words that were spoken concerning who we are in Christ and how that identity calls us to live:

For you did not receive the spirit of slavery to fall back into fear, but you have received the spirit of sonship. When we cry, "Abba! Father!" it is the Spirit himself bearing witness with our spirit that we are children of God, and if children, then heirs, heirs of God and fellow heirs with Christ, provided we suffer with him in order that we may also be glorified with him. I consider that the sufferings of this present time are not worth comparing with the glory that is to be revealed to us. - Rom 8, 15-18

In my struggles, especially in my darkest moments, it can be hard for me to remember this, and my reality can feel far removed from this one. Yet in his patience God reminds me of the truth - often, for I am slow to learn.

Today's words

berceuse \bair-SOOZ\ - 1. a musical composition usually in 6/8 time that resembles a lullaby  2. lullaby

Cool.  A new music-related word!

phillumenist \fi-LOO-muh-nist\ - one who collects matchbooks or matchbox labels

The "lumen" in the middle helped me get this one right in today's Dictionary Devil puzzle.

honeycreeper \HUH-nee-'kree-per\ - 1. any of numerous small bright-colored oscine birds (especially genera Cyanerpes and Chlorophanes of the family Coerebidae) of tropical America  2. any of a family (Drepanididae) of often colorful oscine birds found only in Hawaii

Also from today's DD. Hmm.  I might have to be on the lookout for these next week!

oscine \AH-syne\ - of or relating to a large suborder (Oscines) of passerine birds (as larks, shrikes, finches, orioles, and crows) characterized by a vocal apparatus highly specialized for singing

It has been a long time since one new definition has led me to another new word . . .

passerine \PASS-er-'ryne\ - of or relating to the largest order (Passeriformes) of birds which includes over half of all living birds and consists chiefly of altricial songbirds of perching habits — compare oscine

 . . . and yet another, which also led me to back to a word I knew before, thought I had posted on previously but can't find on my blog, and still had to remind myself of:

altricial \al-TRIH-shuhl\ - being hatched or born or having young that are hatched or born in a very immature and helpless condition so as to require care for some time  — compare precocial

I swear I remember looking this one up before, along with recognizing the contrasting "precocial," which is at least a close enough relative of "precocious" that I was finally able to stop this chain of lookups. Ah, what the heck:

precocial \prih-KO-shuhl\ - capable of a high degree of independent activity from birth — compare altricial

(Phew.  Probably a personal record for words in one vocab post.)

More on darkness and light

This morning I find myself thinking about how challenging it is to remember how awesome God is, to soak in the remarkable truth that he has made me his son, and to trust that he will provide for everything my family and I need, when I am dealing with the consuming circumstances of my life in this world. I completely forget that my true citizenship is not of this world, and having any sense of God's presence and the joy of the Spirit is utterly beyond me. Yet when I cannot reach God (all the time, really; none of us can ever reach God by our efforts), as soon as I just bring myself to cry to him he reaches me, grants me the grace of his presence to survive the moment, reminds me that he is always with me in whatever I am going through. Soon I am again in touch with the joy of being his.

But it seems that, too often, I must reach a point of desperation before I'll utter that cry. Until then I am too determined to just manage it. Our societal insistence on independence is so ingrained in me - or maybe it's just my Adam-like insistence on having a good reason (or excuse) to make my own way - that I often fail to seek God's presence until my pain makes it impossible to deny that I must. This can lead me to dark and very sad places.

Thank you, God, for bringing me back to your light and joy.

St. Augustine and the Charisms

Hmmm.  Maybe that should be the name of my next band.

It was another example of the sort of timing that I have come to recognize as God's direction and work in my life. The Baptism in the Holy Spirit resource I'm reading has been the sort of thing that I read until I find my mind drifting away from it somewhat, then carefully mark my place and pick up in that same spot. Unlike Death on a Friday Afternoon, which invariably always inspires me to write within every couple of pages, this book has been thoroughly validating many of the spiritual experiences of my adulthood. The section I've most recently completed dealt with the charisms as documented in the patristic period of the Church, following the section on their scriptural references.

So in that most recently completed section, the very first paragraph where I left off reading last week addresses the change of heart which St. Augustine had with regard to the gifts of the Holy Spirit as a result of miraculous events that occurred during his ministry at Hippo. The providential timing comes from my having just seen Restless Heart, bringing me a closer sense of kinship with this great Doctor of the Church whom I have long held in such high esteem. I realize I don't really know Augustine any better than I ever did before, but reading his own wondering eyewitness account of what happened in his church, reading his accurate description of the same phenomena which I have experienced, make me feel more as if I am being gently affirmed by someone in whom I have a deep sense of trust.

This isn't the only way God's Spirit has worked to affirm me, nor the most powerful. I am convinced that the affirmation of my friends whose spiritual judgment and maturity I have come to recognize and respect is likewise a gift of God to buttress me in my weakest moments.