Lesson of the Whales

Most years, the ranch hosts two huge clinic events in April and May, just a couple weeks apart.  They are a BLAST and yet at the end of them the staff is TIRED.  In the few weeks between these clinics, children still come for sessions, the horses still need care, and our normal, pressing responsibilities and the needs of the families who come demand our attention and action.

Personally, I discovered it can take a toll.

Not only do I work on this facility in all the hustle and bustle of activities… I live there.  Many times tourists or strangers stop by on the weekends or when the ranch is closed.  And, the days we’re closed to the public, horses, again, still need feeding and sometimes vetting.  Facilities upkeep and chores still need to be done.  The majority of the staff do not live on-site, so this responsibility falls on a few individuals, such as myself, as part of our agreement to live on the property.

And I LOVE it all.

However, often during the session season I also find my heart, body, and soul simply need a break.  No matter how much I love it, I have to take time to pull back, rest and recharge.  I’ll often do that in the wilderness… or sometimes, at the ocean.

One particular weekend between clinics, my friend and I decided that we just needed to get away — off-site and out of town to disappear for a few days.

So we went to the coast.

Upon arriving at our little beach house motel, I flopped myself on the bed in exhaustion.  The roar of the sea out our window and salty air invited stillness and deep rest.  My friend immediately headed to the beach while I opted for a nap.  The entire trip, I don’t know that I made it outside down to the sandy shore once… I simply rested and slept and journaled, allowing the peaceful atmosphere and sound of the ocean to wash over my weariness.

Sleeping in the next morning — a WONDERFUL luxury — I woke to a clear sky over the bright blue of the water below us.  Our room included a private bedroom, a fold-out couch, and a small kitchen and living room area.  Floor-to-ceiling windows lined the westward wall and painted us an incredible, panoramic view of the Pacific.  Wrapped cozily in a blanket, I sat and watched the waves, silently thanking God for the break and the wonder of His creation.

I’m not sure which of us saw it first, but suddenly an odd, small mist of water spurted from the sea.  We squinted and looked harder.  Another appeared a few minutes later, this time a giant, black body emerged beneath it.  Giddy excitement rushed between us as we realized the wonder before us:

WHALES!

Now, I’ve tried to see whales before, many times, on several different trips.  I’ve sat high on rocky cliffs over deep parts of the ocean and shivered with friends in the wind and ocean spray, followed a map to a specific whale-watching location, and even have stopped at a whale observatory where you are supposed to be able to observe whales.  No whales.  Ever.

Until today… in my pajamas, wrapped in a blanket, with my friend, from the comfort of our living room.  TODAY they appeared.  And they played right in front of us.

The entire rest of the morning, we barely moved from our spot, watching the whales follow each other back and forth — within the frame of our window.  They stayed and played for hours and hours, sinking deep into the sea and rising every few minutes to spout and breathe.  Then it struck me.

God designed whales to live as deep sea creatures, made for the water and dark depths of the ocean… and yet they need to BREATHE.

Might that be a lesson for me?

God designed me — all of us — to navigate and live in this world.  We have deep things we are called to walk through each and every day.  The sea can be fierce… and so can this life.  Like the whales, God’s already given us everything we need to weather the storms and enjoy the wonder of what He has created.

But we need to breathe.

We have GOT to retreat and come up for air.  We can’t stay in the depths for which we were created without daily, routinely, resurfacing for a breath of fresh life from our King.  If we think we can do it on our own, we’re at risk of drowning in our purpose and calling.  We are also called upward — to constantly rise in prayer and thanksgiving and receive the strength to continue on.

Watching the whales rise and fall, I too rose for a breath of air through prayer.  Talking with the King, new waves of peace and assurance, healing and strength flowed over me.   A refreshed, deep longing to return and continue the work placed before me ran like oxygen through my veins.  I felt ready to dive back into ministry.

“Lord Jesus, thank You for the whales, such a magnificent, fun, demonstration of Your glory and power.  Thank You for the rest that You offer me.  Make me faithful to rise moment by moment to receive the life and strength You desire to give for the work You’ve called me to do.  May I learn well the lesson of the whales.”

“Come to Me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest.” – Jesus (Matthew 11:28)

 

Heart Declination

Standing on the precipice of a new year, an unknown adventure lies before us.  It’s taken a climb to get this far.  Today I reflect on the summits, valleys, and obstacles beneath me.

Jesus.  How faithful He has been to me.

This last year, He walked me through heartache, led me to my first elk antler find, navigated the conversations I had with so many children to introduce them to HIS presence… and so much more. He was my constant companion in joy and loneliness.

He is teaching me how to run in the wilderness.

I’m learning to navigate the wild.  It’s easy, and sometimes deadly, to get lost in the wilderness.  One needs a good map and compass to stay on course.

And yet, I’ve learned that a compass will not always point true North. A compass will point magnetic North. Depending where you are in the world, because of the gravitational pull of the earth, the compass may be off by up to 30 degrees.

It’s not enough to have a map and a compass.  One can still get desperately lost. You have to know how to use them.

The answer is simple. On backcountry maps, a little compass-like stamp on the map will tell you where your compass wants to point – and where true North actually is. If you take just a moment to adjust the setting on your compass according to your map, you’re good to go. This is called setting your “declination.”

How much is this like the coming year?

A wilderness awaits. Danger and adventure lie before us. How will we navigate to stay on course?

God has given us the perfect roadmap for our lives – His very Word, the Bible. Jesus Christ has left us His Holy Spirit within us.   We have everything we need. But are we using them?

Our own heart can lead us astray. The magnetic pull of our will to the right or to the left may initially SEEM like the right path… but can quickly take us down a dangerous route.  We must remember that it is easy – and deadly – to get lost in the wild.

Each and every day, we must take a few moments to ask the Holy Spirit to declinate our hearts to God’s Word.  We need the constant adjustment and reminders. With our hearts lined up with God’s will for us, we are able to move forward in freedom and confidence.

Today, will you join me in committing to the daily declination of our hearts to Scripture? We need the Holy Spirit’s guidance like never before.

I can guarantee it will be an adventure like none other.

“For the waywardness of the simple will slay them, and the complacency of fools will destroy them. But whoever listens to me will dwell in safety, secure from the fear of evil.” – Wisdom (Proverbs 1:32-33)