Grace on the Road

Today was a lesson on miscommunication and missed opportunities and embracing where I happen to be at any given moment. Today was a particularly lovely day in the Pacific Northwest. We had opportunity to drive to Mount St. Helens to a vista point that a few locals said would be beautiful. But we didn’t go. We missed the opportunity.

It largely boiled down to miscommunication. John looked up the route and said it would take us more than two hours out of our way. I thought that meant he didn’t want to make the drive. So I suggested a few other options I thought he might like. Apparently he thought I was saying I didn’t want to go to Mount St. Helens and would rather do these other things instead. So we did. And we missed the opportunity. Or did we?

Many wise folks have had plenty to say about missed opportunities. I particularly like these words of wisdom from Andrew Lincoln: “I don’t really have any regrets because if I choose not to do something there is usually a very good reason. Once I’ve made the decision I don’t view it as a missed opportunity, just a different path.”

Today we took a different path. And it was a good path, which I enjoyed thoroughly. It would be a shame to let a missed opportunity detract from the loveliness of the day.

We breakfasted with a distant cousin of John’s and her family at a unique little place in downtown Portland. The restaurant offered a variety of gourmet breakfast dishes served family style. It was sort of like breakfast tapas. We all got to try a little of everything. So fun! Even better was getting acquainted with Carolyn and her family. This was my first time meeting them, but I don’t think it will be the last.

I had heard of a wonderful shrine in Portland called The Grotto. I had hoped to visit it, but didn’t know if it would work out since we were having breakfast with Carolyn and then planned to get on down the road to Seattle. I had pretty much given up on the idea of attending Mass there. But as it happened, we arrived just as noon Mass was beginning. So there was a wonderful opportunity that just presented itself.

This may have been my favorite “church” so far. Mass was held outdoors! The Grotto Plaza is an open area with pews under a canopy of trees facing the grotto itself which holds a beautiful white marble pieta. The wind in the treetops and the calls of birds were the background music. The homily focused on the miracle of abundance. The priest pointed out that whenever Jesus is involved, there is always more than is needed. And we, His people, are expected to share the abundance He provides. He is never stingy. Why should we be?

After Mass I visited the Chapel of Mary to pray for a bit, and then strolled the beautiful grounds.

I continue to be amazed at how these places of intense peace and beauty exist in the middle of busy urban areas. And the peace remains even when many people are milling about.

I had read about a historic winery in Vancouver, WA that sounded like fun. It was just off our planned route, so we decided to stop. I will admit that I’ve had better wine, but the surroundings were quaint, our host, Andrew, was welcoming and knowledgeable, and the two little winery dogs, Louie and Chloe, were adorable. Plus there were chickens just wandering and pecking for bugs as we sipped our wine.

Another spot about which I had read was Tumwater Falls Park. There is something so lovely and almost mesmerizing about falling water. We had time so we pulled in. Our first impression was decidedly underwhelming. We saw no water. Only a good bit of construction. But we decided to explore anyway, and I’m so glad we did. A long, gently sloping path winds along the Deschutes River under a canopy of trees. The path is lined with boulders and ferns and all manner of native plants. It is a magical place. I kept almost expecting to see fairies hiding in the shadows.

And so, yes, we missed Mount St. Helens. But what a wonderful day it was anyway! Mark Twain once said, “I was seldom able to see an opportunity until it had ceased to be one.” The truth is that we missed countless opportunities today, as we do every day of our lives. But we took advantage of a few as well, even though I didn’t recognize them as opportunities at the time.

I’m learning, I think, to be more present wherever I am and to enjoy what is right in front of me. It is one way our Good Shepherd is leading me. And this is an opportunity of which I can take advantage every day.

I don’t think John and I will ever be ordinary tourists. Here we are in Seattle, where we could have visited Pike Place Market or the Space Needle or Mount Rainier. We could have ridden one of the ferries across Puget Sound or gone on a whale watching tour. We did none of those things.

Instead we spent the morning at Kubota Gardens. We lunched at a cafe on Alki Beach. And we spent an hour getting the screen of my iPhone replaced after I…ahem…broke it. And it’s been a lovely day! Allow me, please, to share it in reverse order.

Late this afternoon I set my phone down, just for a minute, where I thought it would be safe. But it wasn’t. It fell and the screen totally shattered.

Everything still worked just fine. But I was getting glass splinters imbedded in my fingertips when I tried to use it. John was incredibly understanding and encouraged me to just get it fixed before we left Seattle. We found a place close by that was able to fix it and get us on the road in half an hour. The kind young man who did the repair even threw in a screen protector and a mini-lecture on the need to be careful…on the house.

I’m still unpacking the emotions that welled up in connection with this relatively minor event. I found myself with a sort of sick knot in the pit of my stomach. Why? I had just received a lesson about resting in the Lord earlier in the morning. (I’ll get to that in a bit…) A few thoughts come to mind.

It’s a bit unnerving to think how dependent I’ve become on my phone. I rely on it for communication, for directions, for information, and as a camera. I make notes on it to remind me of things I want to remember and places I need to be. Ten years ago I didn’t even have a smartphone. Now my phone is like another appendage. When I am out of coverage area I feel lost. Certainly there are benefits to having a smartphone. But can this situation really be good? It is as though when my phone, though still functional, was injured, it affected me physically. I felt much as I would have if I had suffered an injury to my person. This cannot be healthy! I really need to think on this more…

The highlight of the middle of the day was our lunch at Ampersand Cafe on Alki Beach. We had both agreed that the crowded, touristy areas are not nearly as much fun as the off-the-beaten-path places where the locals go. So we explored the coast of Puget Sound by driving through neighborhoods situated on the water.

We began to get a bit hungry just about the time we discovered Alki Beach, a small area of outdoor cafes on one side of the street and beach on the other, with wonderful views across Puget Sound. We enjoyed some unusual sandwiches and a glass of cherry cider while watching the man at a neighboring table share his latte and conversation with a brilliant blue, enormous hyacinth macaw.

Here we were, in the middle of a highly developed, densely populated area. And still we were surrounded by the wonders of God’s amazing creation.

Which takes me back to our morning at Kubota Gardens, an incredibly beautiful public garden with a Japanese theme. We were there nearly two hours and didn’t even see half of the garden. We did see spots of tranquil beauty, one after another. The place that really spoke to my soul was a small pond with a short waterfall at either end. It was filled with enormous koi. And turtles were sunning themselves on the rocks.

I spent some time in reflection and prayer in this serene setting and asked our Father what he would like me to notice, what He wanted to teach me. It struck me that these turtles and koi couldn’t have cared less about what was going on in the wider world. They were not in a hurry. They were not disturbed. They were simply doing what they do, sunning and swimming, and bringing glory to their Creator in the process.

Perhaps there is a lesson there for all of us. Do I really need to rush about? Do I really need to concern myself with as much as I do? Could it be that what I was meant to do is just bask in the love of my Creator, and let the resultant peace be a blessing to others? Could it really be that simple?

“I have calmed and quieted myself,
I am like a weaned child with its mother;
like a weaned child I am content.”
—Psalm 131:2

“Thou hast made us for Thyself, O Lord; and our heart is restless until it rests in Thee.”

—Augustine of Hippo

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“There’s no better place to find yourself than sitting by a waterfall and listening to its music.”

—Roland R. Kember

This morning we made the turn toward home and found ourselves at Snoqualmie Falls, just a few miles east of Seattle. And I spent quite a long time just watching the falls, listening to their music, asking the Lord what He wanted me to notice, what He wanted to teach me.

Later, as I was looking at postcards in the gift shop, I saw that the falls can look very different at different times. Sometimes, like today, the falls are a wide curtain, crashing 286 feet to the rocks below, throwing up enormous clouds of spray. When there is also sun, like today, a magnificent double rainbow appears.

But at other times, the falls become two long, thin streams of water, like those that would run from an enormous faucet. I read that this really doesn’t have as much to do with local rainfall as it does with snowpack in the higher elevations. It is the melting snow that feeds these falls. And that got me thinking…

What if we are like these magnificent falls? What if the cascade is like God’s power and glory and love flowing through us? What if the mist produced by the water hitting the rocks is the way we respond as we encounter the trials of life, with our response affecting everything it touches? The mist from the falls not only shows the glorious rainbow. It also enables delicate plants and mosses to grow in steep rocky places that are otherwise dark and harsh and inhospitable.

What if our lives could affect others in such wonderful ways, bathing them in the mists of the goodness of God?

In order for this to happen, we must be fed by the Source. There must be plenty of “water” flowing through us, cascading through and over the falls of our lives to splash onto others. And here is where the analogy breaks down a bit. A waterfall is not able to move itself around. But we can position ourselves so as to be fed as much as possible by the Living Water that Christ promises. Are we positioned where there is “heavy snowpack”? In other words, have we positioned ourselves so as to be in the path of as much as possible of God’s goodness, power, and transforming love?

What about the channels of our lives? Are they clean and open so as to receive as much of God’s “snowmelt” as possible? Or are they clogged with debris so that the flow of water is hindered?

And what happens to this Living Water as it flows through our lives? Are we in proximity to others upon whom this goodness can splash? Are our lives shaping and nourishing others? The answer is, of course, yes. Our lives will always touch others. But how?

As I’ve thought on this picture, it has occurred to me that the falls really don’t direct their own spray. This is only the goodness and power of God that have already flowed through the channel of our lives. God Himself directs where the spray goes and what it does.

I’m sure that many more aspects of this analogy could be explored, but I’ll just leave it here for now and encourage you to open the channels of your lives to receive the Living Water as it flows from the heights.

“Then the angel showed me the river of the water of life, bright as crystal,
flowing from the throne of God and of the Lamb.”
—Revelation 22:1