Skip to main content

My Alta Loma

 


I have just finished the autobiography of Eugene Peterson, "A Burning in My Bones." It has been hard to put the book down, as a new picture of Eugene, the author of "The Message," and so many other books, has emerged for me.  Most impressed upon me is his deep, deep love for people and His Lord and Savior.  He was captivated with silence and contemplation to the point of being too silent, especially with his lifetime mate, Jan.  Yet, I was so affirmed in having my own thoughts and questions, somewhat answered by one, who was not the perfect saint nor the one who went along with the "Christian majority," but thoughtfully aimed for a life of congruence, humility, great joy and gratitude.  He also discovered God's goodness in the beauty of each day, as well as the very ordinary.  I chuckled how he numbered all the creatures he saw on his hikes or walks, even taking notice to count horseflies and earthworms!  I realize more and more, that I do not need to speak so much, that often I am a better display of being a disciple of Jesus with a heart of love, care, compassion and closed lips. 


I don't truly know God with certainty, as I am sure my understanding is limited with my finite knowledge and being only human.  Yet, there are these times when I seem to be overwhelmed with a great, great love that is beyond me.  I finished that book completely consumed in tears. Tears of acceptance that God indeed has always known my heart, my angst, my doubts, my unbelief, my inadequacy, my past failing, and my present everyday existence.  There is Someone greater than I am who has heard every prayer, be it "help!" or a litany of requests and unresolved issues or just a prayer of thankfulness for having one more day to live. . .


This all brings me to my Alta Loma.  My home and my neighborhood for over 27 years.  There is no other home that I have lived longer.  Our home sits at the base of sprawling foothills that I can easily walk up to, and is only a 20 minute drive away from the numerous trails to Mount Baldy, formerly know as Mount San Antonio.  On these walks and hikes I have discovered the majesty of God displayed in the quietness of the wind, the rough terrain of trees, pines, rocks, flowers and at times deer, squirrels and dogs.  There's no place I would rather be.  Climbing mountains seems to bring me closer to God Himself.


But Alta Loma, has my people.  Close neighbors like Tricia, Irene and Jim, as well as those I meet and greet on my walks.  The ones who walk the streets with a walker or with their dogs.  Each individual, distinct and diverse, is a constant reminder for me, that as I meet and chat with them, our encounters are holy encounters, not just a coincidence or chance. They are times of God putting Himself in the midst, in middle of our very words, and I find myself going away with thankfulness and appreciation for our visit.  I receive so much more than what I may contribute, just as my recent conversation was with Anita, from Columbia.  We enjoyed our strenuous walk up the hillside together, sharing our stories with one another, and as we departed, she bid me God's blessing.  I walked away from the interaction with deep joy for God's goodness to me.



My Alta Loma has been a place of healing, peace and restoration for family relations.  I could never have imagined years previous, how the messy circumstances of a younger version of me could have played out in such a hopeful way.  I have had the blessing of a second marriage being one of complete faithfulness and fidelity.  I have son and daughter who do indeed welcome me into their adult lives, any estrangements from my blunders with parenting have not prevented love from prevailing.  I am so looking forward to spending time with them next weekend, along with our granddaughter, as we eat, hang out and play games.  My extended family has grown beyond boundaries that I used to think were impenetrable. Yes, it's like the flood gates have been opened and I am bobbing in the river of restoration.  


Yet, Alta Loma rests in uncertainty.  Our home now hallowed out because of water damage. We await the final day when things can be put back in order.  It already has been 6 months, and the work progresses slowly.  I don't have answers or even plans for the days ahead. God willing, we hope to be able to stay in our home, but if one of us precedes the other in the inevitable, I am not sure of the ultimate outcome.  But this I know, that whatever lies ahead, God knows.  His love is ever present now, ever present then, and will never let me go.  For now, I take comfort in my home, Alta Loma, that He has given.  I will continue to cherish each moment, each meal, each room in this house that He will preside over.  Yes, Daddio said it long ago, that he was "in the midst of Holy ground."  Holy ground is here in my Alta Loma. . .  




Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

But . . .

  I had to pause for a moment, as I began reading the text this early morning.  But they, our fathers, acted arrogantly:  they became stubborn and would not listen to Thy commandments."  (Nehemiah 9:18).    How often do I find myself verbalizing "but? what about? what then? what if? really?" All the phrases that feed doubt and angst into my life are found in that one conjunction.  Memory stands as the faithful argument against it, but when faced with future days all seems easily forgotten.  This verse comes to a people who had returned to their homeland after being ravaged and exiled by foreign powers.  Nehemiah is reminding them of who they are, and especially of their one and only God who has forever been faithful to them despite  their faithlessness and wrongdoing.  He reminds them how God is a God of forgiveness, slow to anger, longsuffering, overflowing with lovingkindness, never forsaking them even when He was totally forgott...
Post a Comment
Read more

Summer Breeze

  Gypsy Rose immediately prances to the back door as she hears her name.  We are ready for our morning walk, which has started later than usual, since I have some of these summer days off.  But it is still early enough to catch the morning breeze.  Walking south, I am refreshed by feeling the gentle wind all around me, it's a cool wrap in contrast to the summer sun.  But it all seems to disappear as I turn the corner and head west, my summer breeze is gone.  I am at a loss for it even as I continue north and east.  It's only as I begin the southern sidewalks back home that I am met with the blissful breeze.  I realize that though I wasn't feeling it for most of my steps, it was there all along, I just had to turn the right direction to get relief . . .  Sometimes, that is how my relationship with God seems.  Yes, I know He is ever near and is with me, but I don't feel that fact.  Sometimes my prayers seem to be in a vacuum, and I'm ...
Post a Comment
Read more

Brief Moments of Grace

  "But now for a brief moment grace has been shown from the Lord our God, to leave us an escaped remnant and to give us a peg in His holy place,  that our God may enlighten our eyes and grant us a  little reviving in our bondage." (Ezra 9:8)   Summer welcomes me today with a cloudy cool morning and a subtle fresh breeze.  The day is probably teasing me with moderate temperatures before it will launch into more robust sunlight and heat.  The scorching temperatures have given an abundance of tomatoes, bush beans and yellow squash in my garden, while tormenting the kale, cilantro, spinach and herbs.  My refreshment is found swimming laps in the pool and teaching or rather reminding Gypsy Rose to stay in her lane while we swim together.  Days seem to run together, slip away too fast, as I often feel locked in a routine of sleep, work, cook, repeat. I know that I need to pause and reflect, because even in that daily ritual are God's brief moments of gr...
Post a Comment
Read more