Tangled Thoughts

Only in Alaska

Christina

September 26, 2016

So yesterday afternoon I was feeling a bit cooped up, it was raining and I hadn’t been outside for a walk for a few days. I can’t remember the last time I picked up my camera (post summer blues) so I decided that I would take the dog for a walk on the beach.

It was raining, which meant I could let her off the leash and not have to worry about anyone else being there to scare her. So off we went.

This is what I originally had planned on photographing. Maybe spending a few minutes perfecting a shot like this.

The rain, the birds, the low tide -I had some ideas I was planning to perfect…but then something caught my eye.

Now that in and of itself isn’t that unusual. There are people out surfing on occasion, but this person didn’t appear to be surfing…in fact, I couldn’t be sure what they were doing.

I watched a few more minutes…

…and then this happened…

I couldn’t be sure if I was seeing things, but from what I could tell this person was doing handstands…on a surfboard…in the ocean…in the rain.

I am still not sure what, exactly, was going on -but it was sure impressive, especially considering I slipped about four times this weekend. On solid ground.

Fuzzy Weather

Christina

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September 15, 2016

It’s official -fall is here. How do I know this? Well just the other day I was outside and stumbled upon these little guys. They go by a variety of names, and I am not even sure of their technical name -but we have always called them fuzzies. We would spend our time rescuing these guys from the middle of the road where they would meet their certain death.

To Love Without Limit

Christina

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September 14, 2016

If I speak in the tongues of men or of angels, but do not have love, I am only a resounding gong or a clanging cymbal. If I have the gift of prophecy and can fathom all mysteries and all knowledge, and if I have a faith that can move mountains, but do not have love, I am nothing. If I give all I possess to the poor and give over my body to hardship that I may boast, but do not have love, I gain nothing. -1 Corinthians 13: 1-7

These verses have been poking away at me for quite some time now.

It started Monday night, after a women’s bible study on the fruits of the spirits.

It popped into my mind (not by chance, mind you) that I really don’t love a lot of people. Not in a… romantic way, but in the way that I really don’t like a lot of people. In fact, I really don’t CARE for a lot of people. I am not the most compassionate or sympathetic person. I get annoyed by stupidity all the time. Regardless of how hard I try, I struggle deeply -with loving people the way that God has commanded us to. I do not love humans. I do not love mankind. I don’t.

The thought was planted, and over the past few days I have thought -hard, over this thought of love. Of compassion. Of caring.

Then today, I read an article on how in relationships -we go after the people who are most like us. Why? Because we are looking for someone like ourselves. We want people to be just like us, and when they aren’t -we chuck them to the curb with last weeks leftovers. When someone disagrees with us we gasp in horror -how could they! I for one, am guilty of trying so hard to stuff people into the boxes I feel they should be in.

Some people are amazing in this area -they are compassionate to a fault, they love without restriction. They see a need and fill it. Meanwhile, I am busy carefully calculating to see if said person fits into my box the way I think they should before I make my move…most times, losing the opportunity to love without condition.

I struggle to make them FIT into my life, I want them to be who I want them to be -instead of realizing: They aren’t. They never will be. Not everyone is like me, in fact, no one is like me! And how wonderful that is. But that doesn’t stop me. It doesn’t stop me from seeing people through my clouded, dirty perspective -day after day. I see them with my molded glasses on that say they must have and act this way -or else perhaps, they cannot be a friend of mine.

Good golly how selfish I have been.

Instead of seeing people this way -I need to see them for who they are, but bigger still -I need to see them how God has made them, how God sees them…not as I see them, not as I want them.

People will never fit into my mold or my view -and so I need to stop trying, desperately to make them fit! Instead, seeing them for who God has made them, who they are -opens the world to me in a completely different way. It gives them the freedom to be who they are, to have their strengths and weaknesses -it gives me the freedom to love them for who they are, as they are -instead of constantly trying to rank them, box them up and ship them away.

I need to free myself from my ridged views -and quit assuming that I am, in fact, the mold that everyone should live up to. I need to love people the way God loves them -and me. I need to see them how He sees them, not as I see them. Because then, and ONLY then…can I truly love them, as they are. The way He loves me. The way I am.

Transition

Christina

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August 31, 2016

Ketchikan is what they call, a transitional town. People come and people go. Unless you are a hardcore nut such as myself -you stick around for three, maybe five years max -then you pack up and leave. Many people are stationed here for the Coast Guard -they do their three – five years then pack and move somewhere like Hawaii. The nuttier ones among the bunch do eventually come back because there is a saying that goes something like “Ketchikan will never let you go. You come once, you will be back.”

But the truth is -you make friends, and then they leave. Within five years.

I’ve been thinking about this lately. Everything seems to be leaving, or coming to an end here. The summer. The season. Softball. House sitting jobs. Even my journal, ironically, got filled up today -meaning that I must start a new one…and as silly as it sounds, that is always a bittersweet time for me. Most of my friends have packed up and left for school, jobs, or homes across the sea. It seems sometimes that I am the only one who has yet to pack up and do something grand.

Of course then there is the fact that last year was such an amazing year for travel -and this year I’ve barely left town.

But I am trying to see the other side of things. The side that isn’t just everything is leaving, everything is ending -but instead -there is plenty of opportunity for new and exciting things. The starting of something new. A new season, a new journal, a new month. A fresh start.

The leaves are being ripped from the trees, the sun is setting earlier and as much as I wish to leave my window open at night -I am being awaken in the middle of the night, forcing it shut. Summer is leaving. Fall is well on its way. September is coming.

Before long the last of the tour boats will pull away -our town will hole up until next year. The population dwindle down to the remaining nuts who call this place home and we will begin carving out a new routine. One that is much slower. Of course it will be ok. It always is.

It is just the transitions that are hard. Regardless of when they come. Or who they involve.

Good-bye, Summer! Until we meet again.

Good Morning!

Christina

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August 27, 2016

So here’s the deal. I’ve done a fair amount of babysitting in my life -spent days watching kids, put them to bed and left them for their parents to deal with the following day. I even did a stunt where I put one kid on a bus for school -that was fun when he almost missed the bus over an episode involving a missing sweater. But I digress. A few months ago I was asked if I would mind kid sitting at night for a few nights. Feed kids dinner, get them in bed -then get them up and off to a friends house the next morning. It sounded simple enough, and I am always up for random stunts -so I agreed.

The instructions were simple enough “Wake the kids up at 7am” since they would be starting school in a few days their mom was hoping to have them adjusted to the early to bed, early to rise schedule. I agreed to this schedule and last night was my first night there. It went well enough. Kids were in bed by 9pm and I had the rest of the evening to myself. I set my alarm for 6:52 -thinking I would get up a few minutes early, hop in the shower and then wake them up.

It was all planned. It was all ready. It was going to be fine.

Except I woke to hear foot steps running down the stairs. I blinked and looked bleary eyed at the clock which read: 6:02. That is am. Six in the morning.

Now those who know me best know that waking me up early is not the thing to do. Especially without coffee. Especially before the hour of 9. But these children, bless their socks, were up with the morning sun. Or what I can assume was the morning sun. The sun was up and so were they -so they must have woken together. I laid in bed -silently, hoping they were just using the bathroom and would go back to bed like reasonable souls. But alas -I heard dishes clinking, and breakfast being made and I knew.

These kids were not going back to bed.

I forced myself from the blankets, rolled onto the floor and stared in the mirror at nest that was atop my head. My hair and I agree on mornings -they are not the bees knees. We don’t do mornings. I debated about taking a shower and calming some of the wild morning madness atop my head, but it was all very much before coffee and the clock was still reading the number 6 -so I brushed it down, threw on a sweater and stumbled into the kitchen where pancakes were being made.

Thankfully I had had enough sense to bring along a coffee maker -else I don’t know if any of us would have survived.

I don’t know if this is normal or not. I’m told by various sources that it is very much normal. That 6am isn’t that unreasonable of an hour and gauging by the traffic -others don’t think so either. Their grandparents were wide awake sitting on the porch awaiting their arrival. So I guess I am the only one that doesn’t believe in waking before the sun.