Lessons from Rain

It rains nearly every day in this part of Scotland. On the few days it doesn’t rain, it usually rains for at least part of every day. Dunoon averages nearly 70 inches of rain a year. In January this year, Dunoon saw a mere 37 hours of sun.

My heart is in the desert Southwest in the U.S. where rainfall averages between 12 and 13 inches annually with up to 320 days of sunshine. Yet, I have learned from inclement weather.

Moss blooms. Well, okay. According to the experts—it doesn’t bloom. It reproduces through spores. But it puts up shoots that look like blooms. I love to bend down and study moss intently when it “blooms.” I imagine a world invisible to us, peopled by tiny organisms that go about everyday life on their patch of moss tending the blooms that are like trees to them, building a secret life under our very eyes, a life that is impossible for us to see.

Because it is so wet here, moss grows on everything. I was amazed when we visited Rothesay on the Isle of Bute. Moss even grows on the wire fence around the castle.

When I had a hip replacement that became infected and was in the hospital for three months, I returned home to find our car encased in moss because it hadn’t been driven while I was gone.

Moss has also taught me that my elementary teachers were not infallible. They assured us that we could never get lost in the woods because moss grows on the north side of trees and we would always know which way was north. False. Wrong. It is so wet here in Scotland that moss grows all the way around tree trunks.

Inclement weather has taught me to preserve. With cold wind blowing blinding rainfall into my face and through every chink in my raingear—I don’t want to go on a walk. I don’t want to go outside the door of our little snug house. Yet, a dog needs a walk. Our dog doesn’t even have the benefit of a yard or garden. We have a two-foot strip of gravel around our house. So, out into the punishing, thrashing rain. It’s not comfortable, but it’s profitable because it strengthens me.

Inclement times in our lives are the same. We don’t enjoy them, but they grow us. They strengthen us.

“If indeed we suffer with Jesus, we may also be glorified together.” Romans 8:17.

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Learning to Walk Again at 73

I’m thankful for my elementary school education. I had excellent English teachers and since all I ever wanted to do since I was a kid is to write books—that was the most important thing for me. However, I also learned things that proved detrimental.

I was taught in school that Pluto was the ninth planet. One of our class projects was to draw the nine planets in their orbits, but in 2006, Pluto lost its status as a planet and was re-labeled “dwarf planet.” Learning that Pluto was a planet when it isn’t hasn’t hurt me. I don’t care. It’s too far away to have an impact on my life.

Being taught in school that snakes don’t come out at night might have harmed me—because they do—especially in the desert, and I used to run through the woods and fields carelessly at night with confidence that venomous snakes were tucked into their beds.

What has negatively impacted me in life is the teaching of my ninth-grade gym teacher. She taught us to “walk like Indians” toe first with one foot in front of the other and bragged about how silently we could walk like that. Her style of walking is great for balance beams and narrow ledges, but detrimental for every day walking as I have learned through painful falls resulting in broken bones.

Due probably to the back, hip, and knee surgeries I’ve had—or perhaps a childhood injury—I’ve developed something called “drop foot.” I’ve included the condition of drop foot in the book I’m working on now. My natural gait is to step forward toe-first as I walk. Frequently, however, one of my feet (and it can be either one) suddenly dips down and digs into the pavement. I’ve had some painful falls as a result.

So now at age 73, I am learning to walk again. It’s tough. My muscles rebel at the physical strain of putting my feet down heel first instead of toe first. I’ve walked toe-first for 60 years.

For the first 23 years of my life I was taught that God is not real. I was taught that God doesn’t exist. I even wrote an essay supporting that fact when I was in my first year of college. The professor gave me an A+ on the paper. I was wrong and he was wrong.

Some folks believe that the key to improving the world is found in education and learning. Falsehoods can be both taught and learned.

The answer is found in the mystery of God, “both of the Father and of Christ, in whom are hidden all the treasures of wisdom and knowledge.” Colossians 2:3.

A person can learn to walk through their life again at any age as long as they reach out and touch the mystery of God.

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A New Way to Spell “Learn”?

We’ve all heard the positive sound bites: reach for the clouds; dream big; touch the stars, everything is possible if you try.

Not true. However, learning to separate the possible from the impossible is hard. I can’t learn to sing. It’s impossible for me. I’ve heard all the jokes about folks who can’t carry a tune in a bucket. Seriously? I can’t even find the tune to get it into the bucket.

God created each one of us with a plan and a purpose and gave each of us unique talents. With God everything really is possible—if it coincides with His plan for us, and the gifts He gave us. God didn’t create me to sing—He created me to write.

We like to believe that we are in control of our lives. Not true. There are things we simply cannot control regardless of how much we want to. Ultimately, God is in control. That is a hard thing to learn.

Learning is hard. The toddler falls repeatedly before learning to walk. When a baby bird is pushed out of the nest and forced to fly—it is hard.

Our rough collie Savannah is a consummate bee hunter. She has learned to chase—not catch bees. It was hard. It was painful. She pounces at bees and watches them fly. Then she leaps into the air in an attempt to fly herself. Possible for bees—impossible for her. God did not create rough collies to fly—not even intelligent ones.

“Hard and learn. Perhaps they should be spelled the same way.

“And let our people also learn to maintain good works.” Titus 3:14. Maintaining good works takes work. A Biblical example of hard learning.

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School Daze

trees hugging

Four years old and burning with envy—although I couldn’t name the emotion at the time—to see the older kids walking to school every day while I had to stay home. So I followed them.

Clueless, I ended up in a line in a hallway with a teacher walking along the line asking each child for milk money. Until she came to me. She stopped in confusion and asked me who I was and what I was doing there. I thought that was a rather silly question from a teacher at what was obviously a school. “I’m going to school.” I got sent home for another year.

We had moved by the next year. I was excited to catch the big yellow bus outside my house and ride to school on the first day. On the second day—I hid from the bus. If I had known about math—I’d still be hiding.

Much of what I “learned” in school was misinformation. My first grade teacher criticized my coloring. “Tree trunks are brown,” she said, “the sky is blue.” She had never been to the Texas Hill Country where tree trunks are grey. She had never been to Scotland where the sky is seldom blue.

We were taught that North is straight ahead, East is right and West is left. We marked it on maps. So when someone gives directions and says, “turn North on the next street,” it’s confusing. If North is straight ahead, why turn?

Then math. We were taught counting: “one-two-three-four-five.” I once had to pay back my employer for the extra hour I had marked on my timecard. My hours were from nine to noon. Count yourself: 9-10-11-12. I was getting paid for four hours. Everyone else was getting paid for three.

What to learn out of all the “facts” the world presents is confusing. Separating “truth” is like holding a raw egg in your hand to keep the yoke while the white runs through your fingers.

Thankfully, there is one infallible Book, one Everlasting Teacher—and we all have access. “If any of you lack wisdom, let him ask of God, who gives to all generously and without reproach, and it will be given to him.” James 1:3.