My Journey Part-7

This is #7 of a nine-part series.
If you'd like to skip to a different chapter,
Just click on the My Journey series
under LABELS (Top of the page, on the right side of your screen).

Morning: Cold water splashed on my face; it trickles past the stubble on my cheeks. I breathe out a sigh as I stand in front of the mirror. "Who is that guy staring back at me? I don't recognize him anymore. He looks...Well, he looks tired; he looks...old." It's early spring and as the sun rises, silhouetting the still bare trees this chilly morning, I find myself wanting for answers that elude me. That face; that tired old face I see in the mirror...I'm afraid it is mine. Although I don't want to admit it, the past year has taken a toll. It's time for some changes - some very difficult changes.
I'm really not a morning person!

Have you ever remodeled a home; maybe a bathroom or perhaps something a bit more ambitious? Ideally, there's an order to such a project. You start with a vision; an image in your mind's eye. You try to imagine the finished product; to see yourself relaxing in the newly renovated space. From your vision flows everything else: You develop a set of plans; the plans are reviewed, revised and finalized; the plans are then submitted to the local inspection authority and a permit is issued. Finally, construction begins...with demolition. Demolition is the most unpleasant phase of the project; you're tearing down rather than building up. Demolition is dust and debris; it's noise and calamity - it most certainly does not feel like progress. Demolition may involve a wall or two while other times, the entire structure - maybe right down to the very foundation! Soon the smell of plaster dust and dry-rot gives way to the aroma of fresh-cut lumber as the renovation takes shape. And so it goes - ideally, that is.
Then, of course there are the non-ideal situations. In these, demolition isn't part of one's master plan, it's the result of some sort of catastrophe. A storm, flood or fire has damaged - maybe even destroyed the home. Under duress, a plan emerges from the rubble. You evaluate what's left; if it cannot be salvaged, it must be stripped away. What remains, remains. And from there, you plan to reconstruct or build elsewhere.

In the ideal situation, you're envisioning a project that will improve or add to what you already have. In the non-ideal, you're hoping to restore what has been lost.
I now find myself in the midst of a storm. The winds have not yet abated and the dust is still thick in the air but I'm beginning to see what has been lost. Walking through the debris field, I'm trying to regain some vision; to formulate a plan of action. I must consider the delicate balance between the daily needs of my family while considering how to restore stability to our household.
"What storm?" You ask. Okay, I'll forgo the analogies: The economic "storm" which has been raging over the state of Michigan for the past few years has severely weakened our family business. We've been steadily losing ground financially for some time. We've been in a fighting retreat for the past two quarters and have cut everything that can be cut without touching our salaries. However, the company can no longer afford to pay me what my large family requires. Either we quickly develop and implement a business plan; one which includes a reasonable expectation for growth or I must seek another line of work. Unfortunately, I don't see a reasonable expectation for growth and so I'm biding my time while trying to shore-up the company as best I can before my departure. I would leave large hole in the organization if I didn't do my best to stabilize things for my brother and Dad before moving on. Another reality has become painfully clear; we will likely lose our home in the next five to six months. It's enough to make a 45 year-old guy suddenly feel...well, old!
In the coming weeks I'll be writing more about this situation but know this: I have no doubt that God knows our needs and I'm confident that He's using these times to bring about His glory in my family, in me...in this forum. Nevertheless, I ask for your prayers as I seek discernment, wisdom, and courage to follow wherever God leads. In short, I need a plan - a set of blue-lines and some specification notes. After all, God is my architect!

My Journey - Part 6

This is #6 of a nine-part series.
If you'd like to skip to a different chapter,
Just click on the My Journey series
under LABELS (Top of the page, on the right side of your screen).

Behind me, the eastern sky had already been enveloped in the advancing shadow of night. Above, I watched the darkness blend into a brilliant azure blue. The stunning palette of deep colors stretched on toward the western horizon where the Sun had already bade me a warm farewell. Leaving behind a pale pink ribbon; the remaining light yielded the stage to the first stars of the evening. Far away - across the sea, street lamps were extinguishing as people awakened to a new day. The world keeps turning; it pauses for no one.
As for me, I was heading off into the sunset - no, not like the hero at the end of an old western film. If my life indeed, were a movie, this would be the part when all seemed lost; where the audience despaired for want of a happy ending. Looking down at his watch, the astute theater patron would note that this story is only half finished; the plot is now just thickening!

Last weekend, a couple of pieces of information were delivered to me with all the charm of a sucker-punch to the gut. Stumbling around and just a bit dazed, I had reached my tipping-point. I desperately needed a sabbatical. No, I didn't want a vacation - it was urgent that I find a quiet retreat. It was time for me to turn off all the ambient noise in my life; pull back from my daily obligations and bring my full attention to bear on the tangled and crisscrossing threads that were making it impossible for me to see a clear path ahead. It was time to head west.
By Monday afternoon my plans were firmed-up; I would leave after dinner. I could detect the angst in my wife as I packed my overnight bag. She understood the need but she too was carrying some of the burden of our circumstances and didn't exactly relish the thought of my absence for the next couple of days. It's in my nature to fix things. My work shop has a tool for just about any project or repair you could imagine but you'll find nothing there for a woman's emotions. I tried delivering reassuring words and some gentle touch but their usual potency seemed a bit diluted this time. I kissed eight children and gave Melanie a long embrace and headed out the door. Having tossed my provisions onto the rear bench-seat of my truck, I settled in behind the wheel - delayed only for a moment as I instructed the GPS device to guide me to the Holiday Inn Express in Ludington. I already knew the way - I just like my gadgets! Reaching into my coat pocket I expected to feel the cold, metallic jumble of keys but my finger tips discovered that the keys were not alone. As I pulled my hand from the pocket, the usual jingling sound was muted by the small, folded piece of paper which accompanied it. Rebecca, our oldest daughter had written me a note. She'd sealed it using a strip of leather with a mother of pearl heart pendant attached and secretly deposited into my right pocket.

This is a picture of Becky's note to me

As the darkness settled across the land, I drove on. The remains of that sunset still lingered in the distance, beckoning me to follow. The white dashed line on the pavement stretched out before me; its paint glowing in the beam from my head-lamps. The bright flashes of reflected light measured a sort of tempo; as if my journey was a piece of music - its rhythm had an almost hypnotic effect on me as I traveled along in quiet contemplation. Driving north on US-30; somewhere between Muskegon and Ludington I realized that I was just about the only one on that lonely stretch of highway - just me and my four tires humming their tune as the road-paint kept time.
The silence was broken by the pseudo-feminine voice of my GPS device; announcing my approaching exit as I neared Ludington. "Thanks, but I know a short cut" I said - my voice falling on deaf ears. "Recalculating route" said the gadget as if answering me. I guess I was starving for a conversation. A few minutes later little miss know-it-all chimed in again, "Your destination is on the right". "Thanks!" I said with a sarcastic tone; making the turn into the hotel's driveway.
After checking in, I settled into my room. Wasting little time, I made a bee-line to the upholstered chair & ottoman in the corner. Falling into its embrace, I let out a long sigh. I glanced across the room and my eyes fell on the on the cheap clock radio resting on the night stand; its crimson display read 9:00pm. And what was that? I know I'd heard it before... Silence; no background noise, no conversations, no phones ringing, just me and my thoughts - and hopefully... God's thoughts!
I spent some time meditating on scripture: Psalm 27 and the verses my daughter had penciled on her note. Then, with pen in hand and a new legal pad on the table before me I began to write. It was as if some obstruction had been removed and the words began to flow. Line after line and page after page I began to see with greater clarity as all the pent-up observations, discernment, insights, desires, emotions and the like began to be unraveled from one another. With all of it laid out before me in the form of hand-written notes scratched out across many pages, I began to ask God to weave into it His wisdom; His will. I longed to have some direction; a course and heading; to know I was leading my family in the direction God wants us to go.
On Tuesday as the morning hours waned, I emerged from my room and motored my way to Ludington State Park - a vast area of Lake Michigan shore line, sand dunes, dense forests, steep ridges and deep valleys. I have known this area from my youth and its familiar landscape is what drew me here this week. I've never before walked those trails in the dead of winter and I expected to find the area pretty much deserted - it was. Only a handful of maintenance workers, trimming trees near the park office; no one else could be found.
(If you follow this link, you can practically trace the steps of my hike; I parked at the end of highway 116, followed the Lighthouse Trail to Big Sable Point, continued on that trail until jumping over to the Ridge Trail, and finally made my way back to my starting point). The first leg of my hike was to be the 1.7-mile walk out to the Big Sable Point Lighthouse. I was most curious to see this stoic structure amidst the snow and ice; a spectacle I'd only seen in photos before. My most recent visit there was two summers ago. We and our children climbed the spiraling steps to the top and enjoyed the view as warm breezes blew through our hair. On this day, the weather was quite different; the breezes blowing through my hair came in off the icy water. They carried with them a local weather phenomenon known as lake-effect snow. The rest of the state was enjoying sunny skies but there, along the shores of Lake Michigan snow squalls were plentiful. I lingered near the lighthouse a while, snapped a few photos and then gave the trail map a quick study. The Lighthouse Trail takes an easterly direction from Big Sable Point and follows a route inland; meandering through acres of sand dunes, dense stands of jack pine, up and over bluffs, and finally connects with a maze of other trails which offer its travelers a variety of beautiful scenery. Locating the marker indicating the way, I ventured on. Obviously, I was the first to walk this trail in months. The only tracks I found were those belonging to deer, rabbit, squirrel, and coyote. On several occasions, I had to consult my compass & trail map as the drifted snow was covering any evidence of a beaten path.
As I was passing through a stand of white pine searching for a trail marker, my mind drifted back to a time some fourteen years earlier. Rebecca, just a little girl then had traveled this very same trail - riding on my shoulders the whole way. I reached into my pocket. There it was; that crumpled note from my daughter - no longer sitting on my shoulders but rather standing on the threshold of womanhood, she had sent along with me a scripture most appropriate for this moment. She has no idea how much that blessed her daddy!

Psalm 119: 105
"Thy word is a lamp unto my feet and a light unto my path"

As I walked the area in ever-widening circles, meditating on this scripture I located the next trail marker. Pressing on toward my destination, it occurred to me that I'm walking a road less traveled in my life. What I mean to say is, I'm not on the the typical college degree, 2.5 children, suburban-America, nice vacation once a year, retirement at 65 with money in the bank road. With my entrepreneurial tendencies and disdain for the winds of contemporary thought, I've often found myself navigating through areas which others avoid.
Finding your way through unfamiliar or un-marked terrain requires a greater awareness of your surroundings - to be able to orient yourself on a map of the region. There's no pavement; no perfectly spaced white lines painted to keep you centered in your lane. You must have the ability to plot your present location and know which course and heading will see you to your destination. You must know how to navigate rather than follow a prescribed route. Though I may be on a road less traveled, I'm not without guidance. Scripture illuminates the way and God supplies encouragement, exhortation, and discernment through good Christian fellowship.
After a few hours of hiking, I returned to my truck feeling physically tired but refreshed in my spirit. I felt God had given me a new resolve to press on and trust Him to help me both identify our destination and plot the best course to get there. Sometimes a simple walk in the woods can speak volumes if you're listening! Before dinner, I parked along the waterfront in Ludington; reflecting on the time spent in the stillness of a sleeping forest and all the thoughts I'd written down the past twenty four hours. The Sun was setting over the pier - warm hues were suspended for the moment over a frozen seascape - It was growing dark yet I could almost hear the daylight sky whispering its parting words; words of encouragement; words of a coming spring. Somehow, it seemed a fitting end to my day. The world had turned one more time. The next morning I'd tell my trusty ol' GPS gadget to guide me home.

Three of our boys pose for a picture after
climbing the Big Sable Point Light.
July 2007

This is the view of the lighthouse from atop a
nearby dune. Beyond, you can see the icepack
extending some 75-100 yards into the
cold waters of Lake Michigan.

I ventured about 50-yards out onto the icepack and snapped this shot. It was very difficult walking as I made my way between and over refrigerator-sized chunks of frozen Lake Michigan; a pair of ice-climbing boots would have been nice for that little adventure!

This is where the water and ice meet. It looks like a scene from the Arctic Sea; doesn't it? During the winter months, the entire Lake Michigan shore line looks like this - fractured slabs of ice heaped high; cemented together as frigid waters wash over the top during the brutal winter storms which frequently blow across this fresh water sea.

Snow drifts and white pine here made the trail
hard to find at times.

There were a couple of stretches where
I wished I had donned a pair of snowshoes!

I've taken many summertime strolls out to the Ludington Pier light but not this day. With mounds of ice piled high atop the concrete structure, only a complete fool would venture out there now. I went half way so I guess I'm an incomplete fool!

The Sun setting over the frozen Ludington Pier.