The usual late afternoon heat has surrendered to the cool breeze of late autumn. The perfect in every way air embrace that my skin waits all year for. When the invisible wonders of peace and temperature float along side each other and wash over you in the gentlest of waves.
The ocean is calm today after a week of unusual storms and blustery days. The humpback whales have returned for the season. I find my eyes search for their evanescent fountains every time I glance out at the sea. Great whites have also returned and I haven’t been in the water since the sighting of a 15ft dinosaur descendent 1 mile down the coast from me.
Last week my left hand found itself caught between a window frame and large sliding window.
I’ve been doing everything one handed as the bruises, that I hope are not sheltering fractures, heal. I stripped and made a kingsize bed with one hand then made an espresso which made me think I was some kind of undiscovered superhero. Wrangling the Mastiff proved more difficult, and I kind of gave up fixing my hair but I adjusted to the rest of the daily needs. But even in my “everything’s okay, I’m fine thanks” superhero independence I had to let people help me this week. I said yes, to the kind Costco employee you offered to follow me all the way out to the back of the parking lot (because I never park close) and put the 40lb bag of dog food in my truck. Although I did say no when he offered to push the cart too. “I’m fine, thanks!”, as I used all my body weight against it. I managed to get the giant bag into the bottom of my shopping cart after an embarrassing amount of time one handed but I’ll admit I was a tad concerned about the cart to truck transfer. I said okay to my dad carrying a few large items for me. I said okay when my sister offered to braid my hair. (Or perhaps the state of my hair was crying out to her for help)
My sister moved back to the mainland this week. We had been leaning on each other far more than I realized until she left the island. And this considerable wave of sadness capsized me into a sea of jellyfish. I’m alone again, it’s nearly the end of the year, all the things I thought might happen didn’t happen, and my hand hurts.
Often rest is all I want when there’s chaos and yet still so hard to surrender to when it shows up.
This breeze though, this gentle perfect breeze becomes everything I need in the present.It swirls with peace and dives down deep into my lungs. It rests my muscles and eases my mind. And all the heavily detailed worries and cares of only moments ago become a Monet.
I don’t have to be perfect to feel it. I don’t have to be ready and capable and strong. I can be wounded and weak and heart broken and let it take it all off my shoulders until I’m weightless.
May peace rest upon you wherever you are.
Psalm 61:2-4 (AMP)
From the end of the earth I call to You,
when my heart is overwhelmed and weak;
Lead me to the rock that is higher than I
A rock that is too high to reach without Your help.
For You have been a shelter and a refuge for me,
A strong tower against the enemy.
Let me dwell in Your tent forever;
Let me take refuge in the shelter of Your wings.
Philippians 4:6-8 (TPT)
Don’t be pulled in different directions or worried about a thing.
Be saturated in prayer throughout each day, offering your faith-filled requests
before Godwith overflowing gratitude. Tell him every detail of your life,
then God’s wonderful peace that transcends human understanding,
will guard your heart and mind through Jesus Christ.
Keep your thoughts continually fixed on all that is authentic and real,
honorable and admirable, beautiful and respectful, pure and holy, merciful and kind. And fasten your thoughts on every glorious work of God, praising him always.
When I was 11 years old, I met a girl named Jade. We were instantly inseparable. She was everything I lacked and wished that I was. She was outgoing, loud, and said everything she thought. She would sing to anyone and everyone. The kind of friend that would yell out “my friend thinks you’re cute” at the boy that just walked by at the mall that you thought was cute causing you to hide behind her and be totally mortified. It was never to be cruel, she just constantly encouraged me to live out loud. She was the vibrant and beautiful soul vital to a painfully shy and quiet one.
The only times in my youth that I ever sang in front of other people was when Jade was standing beside me. It came easy for her and it wasn’t as terrifying for me in her shadow. We sang together every time we were together. Singing and training dogs were our big big dreams. We made dog training obstacle courses in my backyard and in hers. It consisted mostly of wood planks or large branches we’d lay across stacked concrete blocks. We’d run and jump over these courses along side our Labrador mixes.
We wrote our own songs and also sang along to cassette tapes. I’d created a mini makeshift recording studio with a large duel cassette boombox with equalizer and a microphone from Radioshack. I’d turn down the vocals with the equalizer and we’d just sing loud over them. We’d setup elaborate photoshoots around my house for our album covers. Hanging quilts off my bunkbed was a classic backdrop. We'd make detailed cassette jackets with the photos and credit pages with "We'd like to thank..." and everything. The hardest part was probably waiting weeks for the photos to develop. It was the early 1990’s and we wore acid washed jeans and a lot of hats and sunglasses. We had a very long list of possible band names and yet ended up with Silver Jacket Street Jewels. Everything on the list was a combination of a J word and a S word for our initials.
Neither of our parents let us listen to secular music so we sang a lot of Twila Paris and later Amy Grant. But we both had stashes…music recorded from the radio mostly. It wasn’t cigarettes and lighters hidden in Converse boxes in the closet, it was cassette tapes. Jade loved Sinéad O’conner's “Black Boys on Mopeds”. She would sing it to my face dramatically until I sang along.
Laura, Jade and Rachel
A couple of years later when Jade wasn’t allowed to come over to my house anymore, I was devastated. We still saw each other at church and I was allowed to go over to her house, but her parents thought I wasn’t a very good influence after Jade came home talking about boys and repeated some things I had said to one of the boys at my school about sex, on the phone of course, as I couldn’t talk to a boy in person EVER. I was so shy at school that there were rumors I was mute.
In hindsight it was all VERY PG, no not even PG, more like G but when it’s your 13 year old daughter, I get it now that it was a protective move. They loved her so much. And how were they to know the avalanche of actual bad influences that would come later.
When we got separated we wrote letters. We continued to write songs and mail them to each other. And after her family moved to Colorado, we continued to write each other. We had a ongoing writing project in each letter, we’d write down a song title and each of us would write a song with that title in the next letter. We had so much fun reading what each other would come up with and how different they would be. We wrote hundreds of songs. I have converse boxes full of our letters.
Jade would speak truth to me when no one else would, and always had my back. She was the only one who told me that my high school boyfriend was cheating on me, hearing about it in Colorado, then she confronted him and gave him a verbal beatdown.
Jade called me once as an older teenager after running away from home. She was calling from a recording studio in Denver I think. She said her boyfriends band wanted to record one of my songs that she had shown them in one of my letters. I think it was a metal band and the song was super cheesy and I remember cringing that they'd even read it but Jade was always so encouraging and supportive. She was so excited. The call was brief and barely audible, possibly from a payphone. I didn’t hear from her again until years after that. She’d been through so many awful experiences out on her own and I feared for her when we'd catch up. But she would talk in a way like her stories happened to someone else and she didn’t need my help. I still thought she was so much stronger and braver than me. We lost touch as adults and only talked a few times in the past 10 years.
Jade passed away yesterday. I went to sleep numb. I woke up flooded with memories. I had just talked about her a couple days prior. I hadn’t thought of those times of our youth in so long.
I went up to the coffee farm, walked through the trees and listened to Twila Paris and weeped for my dear friend.
Under the canopy of my prayer tree I looked down and saw this flower… the only one around. It was her in so may ways, bold, vibrant and audacious. We had flowers like these in the midwest as kids. I’m so grateful for our friendship and those childhood memories. Thank you Jade for being my sweet sweet song. My creative partner and champion. My life was better just knowing you.
I know you are singing with angels.
Jade used to love to sing this, she could always sing so much higher than me.
except from “How Beautiful” Twila Paris
How beautiful the tender eyes
That choose to forgive and never despise
How beautiful, how beautiful, how beautiful
Is the body of Christ
And as he lay down his life
We offer this sacrifice
That we will live just as he died
Willing to pay the price
Willing to pay the price
How beautiful the radiant bride
Who waits for her groom with his light in her eyes
I woke up hearing parts of 1 Corinthians 12 on Thursday Morning, the day Jade died. After listening to songs we sung as kids all day and thinking about her the last couple of days, I felt that I heard it for a reason.
1 Corinthians 12:14-26
For the human body does not consist of one part, but of many. If the foot says, “Because I am not a hand, I am not a part of the body,” is it not on the contrary still a part of the body? If the ear says, “Because I am not an eye, I am not a part of the body,” is it not on the contrary still a part of the body? If the whole body were an eye, where would the hearing be?
If the whole body were an ear, where would the sense of smell be?
But now as things really are, God has placed and arranged the parts in the body, each one of them, just as He willed and saw fit with the best balance of function.
If they all were a single organ, where would [the rest of] the body be? But now [as things really are] there are many parts [different limbs and organs], but a single body.
The eye cannot say to the hand, “I have no need of you,” nor again the head to the feet, “I have no need of you.” But quite the contrary, the parts of the body that seem to be weaker are absolutely necessary; and as for those parts of the body which we consider less honorable, these we treat with greater honor; and our less presentable parts are treated with greater modesty, while our more presentable parts do not require it.
But God has combined the whole body, giving greater honor to that part which lacks it, so that there would be no division or discord in the body, but that the parts may have the same concern for one another. And if one member suffers, all the parts share the suffering; if one member is honored, all rejoice with it.
Up above Kailua Kona is a cloud forrest much like the kind that you’d find at Volcanos National park. This reserve nestled at a high elevation on the slopes of Hualalai volcano invites you into cooler temperatures (68-72) than the sunny shores of Kona below.
A wet forrest to be sure as the trail is usually a little muddy and there is a fine mist or fog most days. If you attempt to come later in the day, it will probably be raining as most of upper Hualalai is beneath a rain cloud by late afternoon.
There is an upper and lower option at the trailhead. It's 4.5 miles around the whole length or by section about 2 miles each. I’ve gotten lost once and it was because I left the trail to the wider path that frames it (the other side of this path is private property). There are stacked rocks at any crossroads and markers if you pay attention. =)
There is also a map at the beginning of the trail and a quick snap of it, if you have your phone or digital camera with you, is a recommended move. I've also attached a photo of the new map below that was upgraded this year (2022).
The songs of birds harmonizing with the insects is the soundtrack that plays when you arrive. The sweet smell of Kahili Ginger takes the soft hand of the cool air that slowly dances down your lungs and fills you with peace. Roots reach down the path creating steps that lead the way into this wonderland of giant ferns, moss covered stumps, tropical flowers and ohi’a trees.
Dewdrops and rain drops caught in the fuzzy moss sparkle like precious stones. Endless textures mix with golds and fully saturated greens.
Outside amongst nature offers infinite places for rest and for quiet. Honua’ula forest holds out the offer of tranquility to it’s visitors. You can breathe here and let everything else fall away.
Yesterday evening as the sun began to set, I sat on a black jagged rock that was once red hot liquid. Transformed a few hundred years ago, unrecognizable as it's former self, by the cooling of the ocean. The water below me looked different than usual, a wind swell without the wind. The sun scatters across the thickening clouds searching for a place to break through. Tiny sparkles danced across patches of water like schools of fish quickly disappearing then reappearing in another location.
The traffic jam of boats busting at the seams with snorkel affixed visitors were no longer seen to the farthest left nor the farthest right. Just like me, the ocean was recharging in their absence. Elegantly timed sets now a mosh pit. Each one jumping up to bump the other in white tipped peaks. I watched the underbelly of the clouds darken in full contrast from the sky above them. A butterfly fought the invisible force that suddenly stirred up the leaves of every shrub and every tree, awakening the coastline. The wind brought the soft pattering of rain as the droplets increased enough to collect in my open palms.
It had been years since I let the rain soak me through. The beginning struck nerves with reactive tension in the same way being touched by a person used to feel. I needed to take deep breaths for it to subside, but it did subside. Tension released to a soothing rhythm. It washed over me with gentle mercy. My heart tender enough now to welcome this kindness.
I still rest in the swaddle as the light branches out from the core strengthening me by a new approach. The tiniest of shimmers slowly transforming it's neighbor and spreading out until they shine bright enough to break through to the surface.
My heart a lava rock in reverse.
“It’s no use going back to yesterday, because I was a different person then.” ― Lewis Carroll - Alice in Wonderland
And I will give them one heart, a new heart, and put a new spirit within them. I will take from them the heart of stone, and will give them a heart of flesh that is responsive to My touch. Ezekiel 11:19
I have what anyone currently residing on planet earth would describe as a dream job. It chiefly involves working remotely from a house on the beach and looking after a very large, by all standards, dog. I’ve always loved dogs. The first “when I grow up” profession was Veterinarian before I learned what that job mostly consisted of. I’ve had many dogs throughout my life starting with a St. Bernard followed by a Golden Retriever whom gave me the scar I have on my cheek, Chow Chows, and Labradors. As an adult there were two, Zoe a Chihuahua mix and Patrick, a Toy Fox Terrier/ Jack Russell. I loved these dogs more than anyone I was in a relationship with. I would choose them over people in a heartbeat. They were there to snuggle with me through every heartbreak and every trauma. When Zoe died in 2015 shortly after suffering a stroke at the age of 18, it was the worst grief I’d ever been met with. I’d see her everywhere. When Patrick died in 2019, it was after a slew of awful events and I think I was too depleted to handle it. Both dogs had died in my arms. My arms were empty for the first time, I was alone. I had no desire to start over with another dog. All my friends had dogs I could look after, and that was enough.
Enter the panther...IE Fila Brasileiro (Mastiff)
Some people come into your life to shake you up or turn your world upside down. I’m coming to realize the same can be said for animals. Even as I’m writing this, he is chewing on my arm. He studies my face. If my face is frustrated, irritated or anything other than smiling, the challenge is on. Bite and bark until I get up from that chair. He despises my cellphone. As soon as I pick it up, the challenge is back. If I’m talking on it, he barks, a loud bellowing you can’t possible hear over this bark. If I’m texting he bites my ankles, harder and harder until I yelp.
It’s not that he’s a bad dog. He’s in fact a good dog. I’ve gone through training with him. He knows how to sit, stay, lay down, shakes with the left or the right whichever I ask for and heals. He walks well on a leash, and he barks at strangers near the house but not on walks. He’s gentle with older people and with younger people. And though not my dog, he has bonded to me. He knows I am the bringer of food, but I have also been deemed his playmate in life. And he wants to spend all our mornings and evenings wrestling.
He surpassed me in size about 2 months ago. He has about 20 lbs on me now. My shoulders and arms have muscles appearing from simply handling him, usually in quick defense moves. My torso and legs are covered in bruises, often times just from run ins or him stepping on my feet. He has the Karate Kid move down and sweeps the leg while I'm walking to the kitchen. Let me set the scene... it's early am, I'm walking to the kitchen to make coffee, he walks directly behind me, then he quickly hooks one leg with his bear size paw and pulls out. And in my head he then laughs and laughs. Though technically still a puppy at 8 months, his size could be described as pony,jungle cat or velociraptor.
For about 4 years now I’ve been waiting for a promise to come to pass. I’ve been reading until my eyes blur on waiting vs patience. Waiting is sitting around frustrated with a big maybe, while patience is expectant with a willingness to wait as long as it takes. Patience does not come easily. Patience is a consistent work in you. Consistent. If you had asked me prior to now if I was a patient person I would have foolishly said, absolutely! My pet velociraptor knows otherwise. He doesn’t chew my arm to harm me. He chews my arm because he wants my attention and it is consistent. He doesn’t understand why I would sit at a computer for hours if I’m not chewing on it. I can throw the bouncy balls and fill the Kong with almond butter and excitedly offer the marrow bones but he will choose my arm or my ankles first. He wants a personal relationship with me. Much like a small child, he is teaching me patience.
And what a difference it makes when you recognize these challenges that are actually stimulating growth. What a wonderful gift it is to grow, to move in new ways with patience. When you can shift your focus off the frustration and on to the favor and the grace. When I typed that he jumped over the back of my chair, put his front paws around me almost as if hugging me, I smiled and then he bit my head. Consistent.
