Crusty Crabs

I took this picture a few weeks ago when I was visiting my daughter Brooke in San Francisco. She wasn't exactly thrilled when I begged her to put this "Crab Hat" on her head for a picture--but being the good sport that she is- she slapped it on her head and smiled.

Surrounded by marine life as we walked along the pier, I was intrigued by the notion of crabs. As a beach lover that has lived most of her life in a land-locked state- even the ugly sea animals make me cheer with delight...even crabs. They aren't exactly lovable, with their pincher claws and crusty outer shell, but oh do they have a tender meat on the inside!

This reminds me of myself on my crabby days. Pinching those that get in the way of my plans or expectations. Crusty to God's whisper of a new idea or person that needs to be loved. Sometimes I'm crabby and I can't even explain why!

The author of most of the Psalms in the bible was a wealthy king named David. That's not new news to most of us, but did you know that he struggled with being crabby? His moods often got the best of him, putting him in the crustacean's family, just like the rest of us. Listen to what he moans to God:

"Why are you in despair, O my soul?
And why have you become disturbed within me?
The help of my moods, and my God."
Psalm 42: 11

I love the authenticity of David. His crabbiness is prodding him to do something gutsy and brave. It's prodding him to hope in God. He realizes that his moods, his crustiness, his outlook...are all wrapped up in the One he loves. Disturbed and despairing- he hopes- instead of burying himself in the sand like most crabs do when they are threatened or want to escape.

Although I still cheer when I see crabs, I don't want to live my life like one. The tender crab meat inside is what I hope to reflect. And I hope it doesn't take a hammer and a giant bib to pull it out of me!

Blessings...
Gari

Here Comes the Sun

I don't know how you handle failure, but I stink at it. For me, feeling like I've failed someone can be likened to putting a toothpick in my eye. It hurts- and it always leaves splinters that I have to try and figure out.
The other day I had the opportunity to speak to a group of women. Now that I have made speaking my profession- there's nothing unusual about that. But what happened stung me like a bee. I didn't feel like I did a good job.

The last few months have been glorious as I finished an 8 week course I've been writing- gathering this material and beginning to write my second book from it. Other speaking events this year have been powerful and filled with a sense of purpose and awe. So what happened here? Why did I feel like a failure? And why do these fragments of splinters continue to beat me up?

As I've sorted through the facts I've realized some things: I didn't understand the purpose of the event clearly, I was coming off an intense time of writing and preparation and thought I could get by with less, and I misunderstood how they wanted the material packaged. With this clarity you'd think I could just move on...but that feeling of failure just keeps taking another swing at my already bandaged heart.

What do we do with failure? How can we let it go and chalk things up to "I'll do better next time?" This morning I woke up with an old tune floating through my head. I may not have the words exactly right , but you'll get the gist.

Little Darling-- It's been a long cold lonely winter. Little Darling-- It seems like years since you've been here. Here comes the sun. Here comes the sun. It's alright..."

As I've hummed this tune to myself today, I thought about the line "Here comes the sun" and almost giggled when I thought about my love for another kind of sun. The SON. The SON never beats us when we've failed. As a matter of fact- He totally gets it, and invites us to feel comforted by His grace. The SON never heaps guilt on an already wounded heart, but instead holds the heart in His hands and says "Try again. Use me and my strength to get back up again." And most important, the SON is always cheering us on to greater meaning, purpose, and character in our lives.

So if today you are reflecting on a time you've failed-- let a boss down, yelled at your kids, ignored your husband or wife, didn't do your best at something, got a traffic ticket, forgot to do something important, overindulged, picked laziness instead of action-- know you're in good company. That's humanity. And remember the words to this song, with a little twist--
Here comes the SON. Here comes the SON... It's alright...

Blessings,
Gari