Look At Them

Yesterday, I was driving away from the grocery store, and, as is common in the city, there was a man standing in the median, holding a sign. Usually, I read the signs people are holding, but this time, I was distracted by my own racing thoughts.

I looked. I wondered. And, in a matter of seconds, these thoughts whirled through my mind. Where are you from? What life events have put you in this situation? Are you sad? What's your name? Have you eaten? Aren't you hot? Do you have water? ........ Do you have anyone who loves you?

As I drove back to work in my air conditioned SUV with ice water in hand, I began to picture all the different locations around the city where I've seen people standing with a sign in their hands. I evaluated my reaction to this gentleman, and thought, "I saw him." Now, don't get me wrong, this isn't a pat on the back for Michele - I didn't do a thing for him. I could justify it by saying that I was in the right turn lane and couldn't have gotten to him anyway, but it doesn't really matter. All I did was look at him.

I know, I know... get to the point.....

Think about this: you're driving through the city, and you get stopped at a light. Out of the corner of your eye, you spot the person holding the sign. You feel uncomfortable. You fidget with the radio. Dig in your bag. Look in the opposite direction. Put your visor down and make sure there's nothing in your eye, or no makeup that needs fixing. ANYTHING to avoid making eye contact.

And then, the inner conflict begins. "I should give them money. NO. They should get a job. They're just working the system. They're probably just spending the money on booze and cigarettes. HEY WAIT... that's not my business to judge. Do I even have cash with me? Well, maybe I could just buy them food instead...."

The light turns green.

You drive away and go about your business. You never even look. You never SEE them.

I'm challenging you to change this. Next time you pull up to a light and someone is standing there, LOOK AT THEM. Look into their eyes. See them. See past the sign, past the dirt, past your own judgment and awkwardness and SEE the person who is valuable no matter what circumstances they're living in. This is someone's child. Someone's brother or sister. They matter. Allow your heart to be tugged on in a new and uncomfortable way.

See yourself in their shoes. Feel it. Drink it in. Wrestle with your mind. Let compassion drive you. And if you do nothing more than smile and say hello, you've taken a new step to SEE.

They matter. Look at them.

The Goathead.

Hey... Minnesota.... you know how awesome that grass feels underneath your feet, and between your toes? Well.... try taking a stroll through the grass down here in Carlsbad. G'head. Try.

Allow me to introduce you to the goathead.

No, it's not the actual head of a goat. It's a small, pea-sized "sticker" that lies, unnoticed, in the yard. That is, until you step on it with your bare feet. OR... until you step on it with a rubber-soled shoe, then drag it into the house, where it sticks in the carpet and THEN you step on it with your bare feet.

Nasty little suckers, let me tell you. First, they stick in your feet. Then, they hurt like crazy when you pull them out. THEN, after you've removed them from your feet, you get this painfully annoying ITCH. Ugh. So obnoxious.

Oh, and did I mention that if you pull them out the wrong way, you just end up pulling out the body of the sticker, and leaving the thorn behind?

Many a cuss word has been uttered over these tiny nuisances. Many a tear has been shed. Many a howl has been yelped, for even the animals aren't exempt from their wrath. If you see a dog limping through the yard, you can almost guarantee that he has stickers in his feet.

I cannot express the loathing I feel when I see/feel/remove these stupid things.

The goathead.

By the way, all those goatheads in that picture above.... are from one shoe.... one trip outside. Ready to go for a walk??

Here... as an added bonus, I give you the yard weed to enhance your stroll even further.....

The Mesquite Bush

The Mesquite Bush
AKA The New Mexico Pin Striper
AKA Future Tumbleweed
AKA #!$#*%# ... that freaking HURTS!!!

I don't think there's a New Mexican person alive who hasn't been caught in the ugly snarl of the mesquite bush. They are EVERYWHERE. No, I mean EVERYWHERE. You can't walk two feet in a field without one reaching out and grabbing your pant leg... your hair... your skin. Oh, and don't think you can just untangle yourself and walk away. That's just not how it works.

I believe they work in sneaky, spiny teams. The first one snags you up, while the others lie in wait. Then, just as you think you're free, their thorny little fingers reach out and begin to devour you, leaving you striped and desperate for freedom.

If you manage to break free, you gingerly step your way back to your vehicle, throw it in reverse and get the heck out of there.

But wait!!!

That screeeeeeing you hear....? That high pitched piercing that's wreaking havoc on your poor eardrums....? THAT..... is the sound of round two of the attack. Those two inch blood sucking thorns are removing the paint from the side of your truck (Yes, TRUCK. Because why would you drive through mesquite in a car? Duh.) as you try to make your escape.

As panic sets in, you begin to drive faster. Big mistake. Round three of the genius plan is being set in motion behind the scenes, and you don't even know it's coming. You see, in cooperation with the mesquite army, the wind begins to blow, and the giant tumbleweeds (former mesquite bushes) set themselves to roll into your path. Oh, they WILL get you. Their offensive strategy is to send out the little guys first. No big deal, right? You smash those brave little martyrs, and continue on your way.

And then..... the big dog. The father of all things that tumble. Bigger than a Volkswagon Bug, it bounds its way out into the road... baboom baboom baboom........ SMASH!!!!! You hit it. You swerve all over, throw down on the brakes, throw up your heart, swallow it back again......aaaaaaaaaaand.... you're okay.

You pull over to take a breath.. you have to get out of the car a minute. You step out into the desert air, and gasp for oxygen, and even though it's a hundred and fifteen degrees, you still suck it in. Pacing back and forth, you swallow the calm and feel you can get back into your truck to carry on. You baby step your way back to the driver's side door when....... BAM. You're snagged by a mesquite bush.

Yep. Sticky little suckers.

The Irrigation Ditch

So. I am visiting my "homeland" of Carlsbad, New Mexico for ten days. For those of you who are geographically challenged, Carlsbad is in the southeastern corner of New Mexico, and New Mexico IS in the United States.

Anyway...

Since I live in Minnesota, I thought I would gift my northern friends with some good 'ole edjercayshun on what it's like to live down here in this desert wasteland. I hope you enjoy these posts.

Today, I give you......

The Irrigation Ditch.

Now doesn't that nasty green water look delish??

Down here, in order to irrigate your crops, you go buy some water, they send it down the big canal, it gets routed to your ditch, and you irrigate from there. On SUPER hot days... you know... when it gets up to 110 or 115 degrees, you can throw your inner tube in and float down your property. Just watch your head when you go under the walk ways!

Unfortunately, with the current drought in Carlsbad, most people aren't getting a lot of water, so they really have to pick and choose which crops they irrigate. My father, who has alfalfa fields and pecan (pronounced puh-con, not pee-con or pee-CAN, which is out behind the barn for when you can't make it to the house in time) trees, is choosing to keep his trees alive and let the fields sit dormant. 

Carlsbad is full of dirt farmers right now. There's plenty of that.

So, there you have it... the irrigation ditch.

Whiter than Snow

Here is a very descriptive, very intimate post, written by my guest blogger, Rebekah Young. Rebekah is a 17-year old student with lots of insight and passion. Please read and let the message soak into your heart.

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As I stand here, the snow falls silently around me. The quiet is so loud it’s almost deafening. But louder still are the thoughts that go through my head. How I am full of sin. How dark and dirty. Vile and lustful, full to the brim of sinful thoughts, actions, desires. As the tears spill across my cheeks, they mix with the snowflakes that have melted there. Slowly the cold creeps up my toes, through my legs, across my hands, and up my arms, down my scalp to my nose. The filth within is overwhelming, like the cold. The thoughts rain down like the snow, but colder as they land. As despair they freeze across my heart, colder than ice. My eyes flutter open. There standing before me, a lamb, so white I can hardly see it through
the snow.

Then my eye falls on red. The deepest red I have ever seen. All around the lamb is a pool of blood. I cry out as it falls to the ground. The first sound I’ve made this whole time. Then, I feel the cold in my hand. I turn and there the ice of despair has formed a knife, which is now dripping with the lamb’s blood. I scream, and suddenly it shatters, the shards falling on the lamb. I kneel, shaking with horror. I killed this beautiful creature. All my sin and filth has run him through. I fall, my face landing in the lamb’s blood. I open my eyes and watch the snow fall. The lamb’s blood covering my shaking form.

Then I see it. White. Pure white. As I slowly look down at myself, I am fully covered in snow. Not one inch of me can be seen. All the filth covered…gone. The ice left around my heart cracks. My heart begins to beat, slowly, and then faster and faster. It begins to burn. Melting the ice inside, the despair destroyed. The cold is driven from my body, creeping from my chest, down my arms, to the tips of my fingers. Warmth, no, fire runs down my legs, coursing through my entire body. The pain is unbearable, but leaves a finish, unmatched by anything. I close my eyes, not wanting to miss one moment of this. A sudden noise jerks me from my concentration. My eyes fly open. The lamb is standing before me. My eyes fill, and spill over.

Slowly I reach out, and touch the scar where my knife has pierced his flesh. It is there. I lift my eyes to look into the lamb’s own eyes, expecting anger, hatred, murder. I am caught unawares… His eyes, are full of Love, Compassion, Mercy, and above all, Forgiveness. I fall upon his neck weeping. He speaks, his voice Kind, Loving, Strong, Powerful, Amazing, saying “You are Forgiven my child. Dry your eyes. Run to me. Learn from me. I will give you peace.” Then he leans down, and kisses my forehead. Suddenly, I am filled with a Joy so powerful, it shines through my eyes. The lamb speaks, “I have taken all of your sin. You are no longer filth, but Whiter than even the snow.”