Tag Archives: ramblings

Relish Life

Rock cliffs rising up. Bright sun shining down. Incredible green encasing us. A fantasy world. A world where the only traveling companions are lazy old cows, elderly flies, and scared frogs. Where the dirt paths wind up and down, and up and down. Where the midday call to prayer rings out loud and clear across the valley between the mountain peaks. Where a wrong turn leads you to a comical collection of old people hanging out their windows and relaxing on the deck, no doubt drinking tea and talking about the good old days. Old people with lisps and exaggerated speech, with excitement in their eyes that someone so foreign could get lost on their road. A world with no noises to interrupt the thoughts, and the midday sweat of hard work running down your face.

Are you imagining yet? Keep walking, it’s a long hike, but it’s so close, and way more than worth it! The ground finally levels out, but is still just crawling with green vegetation. Follow the sound of the water, there it is. The old bridge. The bridge that was made of trees that must have lived before Turkey itself was a country! It’s obvious by the swaying and mangled way the boards lie that others have used this multiple times, but that thought does not entirely put you at ease as you look down at the happily churning blue-green water below and feel the wind carry you left and right in a tremulous rhythm above the rocks. Step by step, don’t hold onto the rails too tightly, because a heavy bird might be the end of them, much less your adrenaline filled, tired, and sweaty hands. Cross carefully! It’d be a shame to end here, you haven’t yet met the frogs or touched the cool swirling water. Once you’ve made it, approach the water. Sink your toes into the muck as it gobbles up your feet and argues with you about giving them back. Watch the frogs dive in to sound the alarm that invaders have arrived. The pool is no longer in solitude!

The water is cold, breath-taking, but refreshing after the long walk, and the hot sun. Get in, feel the rush of the current pulling you. Be careful not to twist your ankle in the bigger rocks. Look around. See the mountains towering high all around you, the beauty of the color of the water rushing past you, the lush green filling up all of the space that is not rock, water, or sky. Notice that there is not the sight, nor sound, of another human anywhere. This pool is yours for these few short hours, and you do not have to share with anyone.

Rejoice in the beauty of the Creator, and joy of love together. Relish the adventure of life. This was Monday afternoon in our Black Sea trip this last week. What an amazing memory . . . I am so thankful!

This slideshow requires JavaScript.

Let me know a favorite getaway or a favorite anniversary memory in the comments below! Hope you enjoyed a little snippet of our time away!


I’ve been thinking about “heroes” lately.
Those people, who have caught a vision dear to my heart
and done something about it.
They’ve accomplished something I dream of,
and all while remaining likable . . . for the most part.

And then, as I’ve thought about “heroes” –
the ones I particularly respect and admire –
I realize that they are better left unmet, and unknown.
Knowing them, even in the shallowest sense of the word,
often leaves me disappointed.
They are people, just like me.
The status of “hero” doesn’t change them, doesn’t make them something supernatural.
What do I want in a hero?

Well, briefly, this:
I want someone to look to as an example,
someone I can relate to,
someone who will champion my cause,
raise my feeble arms when I start falling under the weight of my ambitions.
I want someone who is going to smile when I succeed,
with a genuine smile, mind you,
And I want someone who will cry with me when I fail,
with sympathetic tears, of course.
I want someone who wants to know more than my name, my number,
my title, my accomplishments.
I want someone who wants to know my favorite coffee, my biggest pet peeve,
my greatest fear, and my most driving dream.
I don’t want someone with a nice secretary and a good e-mail signature
who sees the little girl on the other end of the internet connection
and thinks, “Oh yeah . . . another one of those.”

So, in short, I’ve realized that “heroes” are great.
They’re great for stories, and imaginations.
They’re great for strivings and reaching-fors.

But, when it comes right down to it,
I’ve got the only real heroes I need.
I’ve got a Jesus in heaven who’s watching everything I do, and cheering me on,
and I’ve got this amazing husband who not only knows my favorite coffee, but makes it for me every day.
I’m happy.

So this is summer . . .

Chaos, murmurs, hurt, strife.
Day long day, across the year, I feel these knocking at my door,
asking to come and weaken my joy.
It feels that summer has turned a cold shoulder towards me,
and I am at her mercy for whatever she might hurl my way.

But, then, nearly suddenly it seems,
a splash, a crash,
and all is changed.
For the sweet days of long light and warm feelings has come.
For this time, the chaos lives somewhere else,
I’m suspended in something that shocks me with light,
and at the same time sends me reeling in the freedom and peace that swaddle me.
Yet, as wondrous as this seems it must be,
there is only a short time before the “freedom” and “peace”
become uncomfortable and threaten to suffocate me if I don’t soon
return to the world of chaos.

That’s when I push off the bottom and come up for air.