Archive for the ‘Hope and Faith’ Category

The Parable of the Weather at the Balloon Glow

Monday, August 31st, 2009

This summer, I attended a hot-air balloon festival. I love the amazing photo ops balloon launches provide! Plus, this balloon launch had a “balloon glow” in the evening in addition to the balloon launch in the morning. (A balloon glow is where the balloons inflate but don’t take flight.)

The festival sponsors held a photo contest, so I thought I’d enter a few pics. Here’s a sampling of what I submitted.

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Of course, I couldn’t leave this post without a parable:

The Parable of the Weather at the Balloon Glow

The evening of the balloon glow, I had several tasks on my to-do list to accomplish. The weather had been threatening a storm, which would prevent the balloon glow from being possible. The rest of my party headed over early, and I’d planned to meet up with them if the weather looked promising. As the time for the balloon glow approached, the festival operators had still not given the word of whether it would be safe to fill the balloons. I couldn’t wait longer to make my decision, though. I knew the best light for my photos would be right at dusk, and unless I left immediately I would miss that lighting.

I decided to take the chance, knowing that if the glow didn’t take place I would have spent a lot of time in the car that I could have been working on my to-do list. I arrived about ten minutes later than I would have liked, but I was able to catch most of the lighting I wanted. As it turned out, the balloon glow was a go. My leap of faith to pursue my course not knowing whether it would be in vain or not ended up leading to some nice photo ops and an enjoyable time with the people I attended with.

The Parable of the Spider on the Car Window

Saturday, August 8th, 2009

When I hopped in my car this morning to head to a book club, I noticed a tiny spider on my driver-side windowsill. I assumed he would blow off when I started driving, as most spiders usually do. Every so often, I looked to see if he was still there, which he was. When I stopped at a stoplight, he started to move for the first time since I hopped in my car. The stoplight turned green, and as I took off, he stopped moving. The more I stopped for red lights, the more I noticed this pattern: when the car moved, the spider braced himself so he could remain on the windowsill as the air rushed by; when the car stopped, he took the opportunity to roam—only to brace himself when the car began to move again.

I am inspired by the courage of this spider. Rather than letting the winds of life blow him away, he held fast when his circumstances grew difficult. As life eased up momentarily, he moved forward and explored. He never let the winds get to him. (Well, perhaps he was complaining in his thoughts, but I pictured this hero holding on and thinking, “I can do this.”)

I became even more inspired by the spider as my drive progressed. After numerous times of simply holding on when the car moved, he developed additional courage, willpower, and knowledge. He slowly started to move even when the car moved. After each stoplight, he moved a little more on the next segment of my drive. And when he started to move toward the top of my window (which I didn’t want him near in case he found a way inside), I rolled my window down slightly. Each time I did, he moved back toward the windowsill, where I think he knew was the safest spot to be when the car moved. I love that he returned to his place of safety when his terrain began to shift.

I learned a lot from this little spider. He reminded me that when life becomes difficult, we don’t always have to plow forward at the same speed we’d been moving during more comfortable times. If we are tempted to lose hope, we can instead brace ourselves or return to our places of safe foundation (be they spiritual, emotional, etc.), grounding ourselves so we can at least hold on even if we don’t feel like doing so. (I was going to write “even when we don’t feel like we can,” but then I realized this spider must have believed he could hold on; otherwise, he wouldn’t have tried. Faith in ourselves, he showed, is part of developing courage to move forward during adversity.) Once we learn how to hold fast in the spot we’re in, we can start moving forward through our adversity a little bit at a time, just as this spider did. Eventually, we’ll see how we can move forward even when the metaphorical car we’re riding on may be moving faster than we’d like.

When our life experiences seem to be too much to handle, we can remember the example of this spider:
1. Take courage to not let tough winds blow us away.
2. Fortify or brace ourselves in principles and places of safety.
3. Learn to move forward one small step at a time.
As we develop courage one step at a time, we’ll be better strengthened to handle even fiercer winds ahead. The top speed on my drive this morning was only around 40 mph, but I have a feeling that had I traveled to the freeway, this little spider would have found a way to hold on.

Land Sweet Land: The Parable of This Little Lot of Mine

Sunday, July 19th, 2009

This Little Lot of MineI bought a lot last week. “A lot of what?” you might ask. My response: a lot.

No, really, I bought a lot, or as Merriam-Webster defines it, “a portion of land; a measured parcel of land having fixed boundaries and designated on a plot or survey.”

That’s right. I am officially a property owner. The little pile of dirt in the photo at left is now mine. Well, technically it still belongs to the bank, but it will be mine eventually. I’ve been eyeing this piece of property for about a year and a half, but it was too expensive. With the slowing economy, the price finally dropped to a rate I could afford.

I can’t even begin to tell you how many times I’ve driven by it over the last 18 (or more?) months, hoping upon hope that I could eventually call it home. I feel so blessed and grateful that it ended up in my hands. After I waited that long to obtain the property, you’d think my parable today would be about patience. It could be, but it’s not. Instead, this little plot of land makes me think about having a dream.

But before I get into that, let me tell you why I love this land so much. I love it because it has a view of the valley, which is incredible at night. I love it because I can see three temples from the backyard, which brings me peace beyond comprehension to look at. I love it because I can envision a garden in the back that will teach me about labor and about stewardship. I love it because I can picture a red-brick home with white trim standing firm on the foundation; I probably won’t have a white picket fence, but I do hope to have a flagpole. I love it because I can picture that home having a library and an abundance of board games; I can picture it filled with family, friends, laughter, testimony, and love.

That little piece of property may look like it’s just a mound of dirt (and a plethora of rocks, which you can’t see here), but in reality, it’s filled with dreams. I don’t plan to build on it soon, but one day in the future it will see the reality of many of those dreams. This little land of mine, I’m going to let it shine.

Just like each new day we’re given; each new person we have the opportunity to meet, learn from, and grow together with; each new book we can read; and each new experience provided to us in our lives, this land is filled with possibilities and dreams that have yet to come to fruition. There’s a wonderful excitement that comes with having those dreams.

The world is waiting at our hands for us to create something new with what we have. I’d love to hear what you’re creating—just leave a comment.