Written on January 16, 2017.
Last weekend, our sweet little Ryder turned 2. His great passion right now is jumping, rolling and finding creative ways to be topsy turvy. He’s not nearly as concerned about injuring himself as we are for him. So having his party in a padded room, a.k.a. a gymnastics studio, was perfect.
The kiddos bounced, bounded and burst throughout the room until it was time for the concluding activity, which was an inflatable trampoline. After a few rounds of Follow the Leader, springy cords were unveiled, which could only mean one thing, Limbo.
In my day, which is not quite the olden days, but older than these days, Limbo was a party necessity. You just didn’t have a party without it. There weren’t a lot of options in the older days. So, I was slightly excited to see it have a little revival.
So, there is Limbo and then there is Limbo on a trampoline. I guess everything gets an upgrade at some point! The kids made the most of it, letting the bounce in their step bring creativity and expression along side. Flips and flops ensued. And the springy cord moved lower and lower. It was then that Scarlett came through again, posed in a perfect back bend. A walking back bend! Knightley took note of this feat as well and on his next turn tried the same. His version was more of a front bend, which resulted in him coming through booty first and in perfect form. At the end, he faced us, looking for his 10, which was a thumbs up from those watching.
And in those moments, I learned an incredible lesson about waiting.
For the world defines limbo as “an uncertain period of awaiting a decision or resolution; an intermediate state or condition; a place or state of restraint or confinement and a place or state of neglect or oblivion.” And we have let it define us.
Waiting can be a purgatory or a preparation. A place where beauty is bound or broken open. And those kids got it. Those kids. Cascading, charging covenants, most of which I had a part of welcoming to the world. I welcomed them and now they welcome me to all the things I couldn’t see without them. Not clearly. Not fully.
As I watched them each take their turns, I realized how beautiful small moves in big turns are. I saw them each choose, not to make each turn better, but to take a greater risk while making the move. They didn’t see the tighter fit as something that inhibited them, but allowed them to try something they hadn’t before. There were no mess ups, only tries that resulted in joy and giggles. They each found the beauty spot of trying, and our claps, laughs, and of course, whoots were all they needed to see the way beauty loved them back.
Over the weekend, we had a visitor, ice. In our part of the world, ice is considered a bad word. At least when it has the potential to dress the roads. The day before the expected arrival, I was walking across Arubbah. Nearing the tent, allowed me to see the almost fifty work trucks coming in preparation for a storm. Coming with the idea to allow a people to move a little better in conditions that weren’t what they might desire or might even be afraid of.
The storm was not quite what “expected”. Trees caught transparent crystals and led them in a flickering dance. Branches not broken, but laced in light. Glazed with allure. We didn’t stay in because we had to, but because we were surrounded by such magic and mystery. A storm turned stellar before us.
We never have to stay in the wait. We aren’t forced to let it hem us in. But if we do, if instead of seeing waiting as an obstacle to get around, we may find a beauty to behold. And we will look. We will see. How beauty, Beauty, loves us back. And maybe, we could find a way to be that beauty to each other. To encourage each other when our small move is part of a great big turn. To celebrate when a smaller space implored us to take a risk instead of be paralyzed. To be encouraged when we don’t all come under the limbo line in exactly the same way, because we got to see something we hadn’t before. That we can truly experience each other, and come out of each encounter different than we went in. Prepared. Arranged and arrayed for something great. And glorious.
Let Pappa reveal to you anyway you see waiting as a purgatory instead of a preparation. Journal with Him as you hear, see and heal!
Play Limbo. Just kidding!!
This weeks Shabbat journey is about preparation. Preparation is much more fun with a theme. So, choose a them for your Shabbat this week. Mexican, Italian, Greek, Asian. You get the idea. Invite those on your heart early so they can be part of the preparation too. Maybe you could all listen to music from that culture throughout the week or learn words in that language. Maybe you could invite each guest to bring a dish from the theme to compliment and complete what you will be making. As you prepare for those coming to your table, find one word to describe that person in the language of your theme.