Tip of My Iceberg

It was 110 degrees when we arrived.

We’re in southern California for business, and I wasn’t ready for this.

Having just left the high heat and ridiculous humidity of Orlando, the Palm Springs’ sauna experience took my breath away. I went from moist with shades of green to dry with variations on brown.

I saw lawns that are collections of rocks and cacti. More vaieties of palm trees than I’ve seen in Florida.

Incredible blue skies and sunshine. Gorgeous.

But the heat also rises. I don’t sweat the same as I do in Orlando. I’m not sure I’m sweating at all–it must be evaporating before I’m aware it exists.

Sweatlessness. Where swallowing your spit is hard.

This community was dropped in the middle of a desert. Surrounded by rock-strewn foothills, scrub brush and huge spaces of beige nothing, discovering growing things was a bit of an oxymoron. There are some green lawns, a few flowering bushes and plants.

Judicious watering.

I love the difference. Change is an adventure, a chance to experience what I’m not used to or ready for.

I like different.

Until I don’t. And then I begin complaining. About the dry heat and the overwhelming taupes, beiges and browns.

I am a creature of habit.  As much as I enjoy change, I want it on my terms.

Anything else shows a lack of control.

Isn’t life like that for everyone? New is fun and exciting–till it isn’t. Different is eye-opening and thought-provoking–until it’s uncomfortable. Change is adventure–until it brings fear and uncertainty.

The older I get, the more I understand my appreciation for what’s expected. What works. It gives me a sense of having some control. I can manage what I know. I’m rarely well prepared for what’sdifferent.

If the world has proven nothing else, it reminds us daily that any control we think we have is a myth. From government oversight to stock market results to personal health, we can only do what we know to do. When a friend discovers they have cancer or a car accident happens that ruins a car–or a life–we’re left operating with what we understand to be true.

What is truth?

Coming from a faith-based understanding, God is truth. Whether we believe it or not, He is all-knowing, all-powerful, ever-present.

What does that say about bad things happening?

We’re so quick to blame God when life experience is painful, filled with loss or horror. He’s not the creator of evil.

It’s in the world as a result of our bad choices. We do bad things to others; pursue lifestyles that hurt our bodies and minds.

God becomes a scapegoat.

Why blame Him for wrongdoing if we question His existence?

Because I don’t want to admit I’m wrong.

Nobody does.

It’s humbling to own our poor choices. Consequences are hard to live with.

God exists to free us from the penalty of our wrong behavior. He took it on Himself, when Jesus went to the cross. Not because we deserve His forgiveness.

Because His love is greater than our wrong.

I’ll always be unhappy about something. Human nature.

God loves me. Divine truth.

Doesn’t matter how I show up.