Summer Comp Time

I have not worn a watch regularly since shortly after my first child was born.  My watch kept scratching my new born baby's tender little head.  I was spending most of my time at home, where I could look at a clock when need be.  Without specific appointments filling my life, it made sense to take off the watch.  By the time my babies were grown beyond resting their precious little heads in the crook of my arm, my watch battery was dead.  I tried to get it replaced and found out replacing a watch battery is not nearly as easy as it use to be (another symptom of our "disposable" culture, why replace a battery when you could just get a new watch?).   I never got around to fixing my watch.

Yet even without my watch constantly reminding me what time it is, I still find it difficult not to live by the clock.  Sure, I am no longer acutely aware of what the numbers on the clock read, yet I grow impatient "wasting" time on recreational activities.  I feel a pressing need to get things done.  I feel lazy if I sleep past seven.  As a stay at home mom I feel like I have to fill my hours with work to justify not going and getting a "real job".  Not that this means I actually get mountains of work done daily.  I just feel guilty about it when I don't.

Summer is a precious gift in regards to time.  During the summer, in our family, no one has a schedule beyond the schedule of the land.  The growing of the crops and the weeds, the rain that falls or doesn't, the length of day light, these are the things that set our schedules during the summer.  This morning, it took me a while to figure out what day of the week it is.  It just doesn't matter during the summer.  Sure I  have to look on the calendar occasionally so that we can make it to t-ball and 4-H meetings.  If I ignored the clock when it comes to meal time, dinner would be ready at 10 a.m. when my tummy is usually rumbling and hubby would come in for dinner two hours later.  So, I am not entirely free of time constraints.  But the basic rhythms of our lives are dictated by something greater than the ticking of the clock.  It can be disorienting but for the most part I love the freedom to simply do what needs to be done when there is time to do it.  Some days we work ourselves ragged with long hours of daylight and much to be done.  Some days it is too wet or the crops aren't ready and we take time to teach the girls how to throw a basketball.

I am a big fan of comp time.  That is the way that nature works.  There are busy harvest times and restful rainy days.  I am so grateful that our lifestyle allows for some comp times, though we should make more of an effort to enjoy them rather than finding a rainy day project to do.  Your job may not allow comp time but perhaps you can find comp time at home.  When you have had long hours of work, let go of the house cleaning.  If you spend Saturday morning cleaning, spend Saturday afternoon doing something fun and relaxing.  Let go of busyness.  Enjoy a little summer comp time for yourself.  After all, it's only natural.

The Butterfly Effect, Rumors and Community

I am fascinated by the idea of the Butterfly Effect.  According to this idea, first presented by Edward Lorenz, the flap of a butterfly's wings could alter conditions in the weather pattern and could eventually bring about effects as large and as far away as a tornado on the other side of the earth.  This could be an argument against cynicism.  If a butterfly's wings can have such an impact, what effects could our small acts of kindness have?

Unfortunately this also applies in a more negative way: we don't know what effects our negative words and actions can have.  Several times recently rumors have caused stress, hurt, and anger for people whom I care about.  This is a tricky topic.  Gossip is so easily spread that even talking about the topic I risk spreading it.  (I can just hear it now, "Do you know what rumors she is talking about?" "I bet she is talking about....")  So, I will leave it at a reminder that we do not know the effects rumors can have.  I can not think about this topic without thinking of the  Lost and Found song: Heard.  Check out the link.  It's worth a chuckle.

Community is another example of a place the Butterfly Effect is sometimes illustrated.  The community of which I am currently a part is gifted in the fact that many young people choose to return to this community to raise their families.  This helps the enrollment numbers at our schools, helps keep our churches alive, and helps our businesses stay in business.  It is very important to a community that its children want to return.  My husband grew up in this community and wanted to return.  Some of the experiences he told me about, as we made plans for our future, were instances of neighbor helping neighbor.  These small acts of kindness have effects that extend into our schools, businesses, and throughout our communities.  Likewise when conflict rocks a community the effects may be felt for years to come.

It is easy to become cynical in our day and age when we are bombarded with images of tragedy, political corruption, violence, poverty, etc.  Just as the wings of a butterfly could effect the trajectory of a tornado, so our small acts of kindness, our small acts of courage, our small acts of forgiveness and humility could make a tremendous difference in ways we may never know.  Scripture tells us similarly, "'Lord, when was it that we saw you hungry and gave you food, or thirsty and gave you something to drink?...'  And the king will answer them, 'Truly I tell you, just as you did it to one of the least of these ...you did it to me.'" (a portion of Matthew 25:37-40)

Thirsty for Rain and Going Green

It is supposed to get into the hundreds today.  We have had about a half an inch of rain this spring.  I know it is even worse in other areas of the country.  I shouldn't complain.  Yet, the wheat is struggling.  What should be a season of lush spring bounty for the animals, is a little slim this year.  There is no substantial rain in the forecast.  I walk through the yard and my garden, I drive past the wheat fields and I find myself imagining the relief it would be to the plants and animals if we were to get a good rain.  My life is intertwined very directly with the creatures and vegetation and land.  I am thirsty for rain.

So, excuse my grumpiness (the heat does that to me) but it occurred to me late last night that anyone who has not felt this thirst should not be able to call themselves an environmentalist.  If you can stand in the middle of a drought and hope that it won't rain on Thursday because you are planning a picnic, you are clearly not in touch with the earth.

I shouldn't be so grumpy about this.  All our modern conveniences make it difficult for most people to have any sense of connection with the land.  I am very blessed to live in a place where that connection is obvious.  But, if we are going to "go green" and talk environmentalism, it seems that it would be helpful for all of us to renew that connection.  What if we turned off the sprinklers and let the lawn turn brown when we don't get rain.  When that dry grass pokes at your children's toes and they come running saying, "We really need rain!" then you will know you are getting in touch with your environment.  When your children start losing toys down the cracks in the ground, they will understand that we really, really need rain.  When you start paying close attention to the weather forecast even when you don't have a picnic planned, you might be getting somewhere.  I know I am being grumpy, but the thing is this: if the people who are fighting for the environment are out of touch with the land, we won't make wise decisions for the sake of the earth.  We won't know how.  It would be like trying to help a neighbor without ever talking to that person or making an attempt to find out what he or she needs.  Before proclaiming yourself as green, take the time to get to know the land which sustains your life by the grace of God.

In the meantime, I will continue to hope and pray for a nice gentle soaking of rain while being mindful of those whose drought conditions are worse and those who are inundated with flood waters or storms.  We are blessed here, I know.  Thirsty and blessed.