Holm is Where the Heart Is

 

Isaiah 43:2 - “When you go through deep waters, I will be with you. When you go through rivers of difficulty, you will not drown.”

In my last Calvary’s Thread post, ‘Adrift’, I wrote about drifting along the current of a river without tiller or oar and speculated that I might be able to lean over and hand paddle my along. Jim McClelland suggested in a comment that by hopping in I could “enjoy the truths of the discoveries along this particular journey.” Part of my reply to Jim was that I am more effective as a swimmer than a drifter, or something along those lines. As effective as I can be while propelling myself along the river of life, I need respite from the currents and chills of the water. I need rest and a place to do it. I believe I found such a place and I know of a handful of others. Holm.

Holm, as Webster describes it, is a small island or inshore island. It’s a British term and those folks seem to have cornered the market for alternate words for an island such as: ait as in ‘a little island’ or eyot a variation on ait. I prefer ‘holm’ to the alternatives, it feels warmer and more inviting to me.

When my sister Denise moved to Merlin, Oregon and shortly thereafter my parents, we took summer trips to visit them nearly every year and with few exceptions, rafted down the Rogue River. For twenty-five years we took these floats using inflatable kayaks, paddle rafts, and drift boats. We encountered small islands, or holms, along the way downstream. They provide sanctuary for birds to nest to be safer for their eggs and young. Canada Geese, Mergansers, Teals, Mallards, and other waterfowl use the island to pull up on and sun to restore body heat and to nest. Songbirds and waders (Green and Great Blue Herons, and various Egrets) wade off the holms to hunt for fish and frogs. The islets are not Edens as there is predation from the sky from eagles and hawks. Otters, playful as they are, eat pretty much what they can catch. Still, there is a measure of sanctuary and peace, the birds can breathe and relax a bit.

Bass Lake, the ancestral home of my mom, has a couple of islands – one toward the upper third of the lake where the Madera County Sheriffs operate from. The other island is down near the dam. Both islands are submerged when the lake is full with the only evidence as either the Sheriff’s tower or the vegetation sticking up above the water. Likewise, both islands are accessible by walking when the lake is at its lowest point. The island near the dam is bisected by a boom, in the old days of true log construction but nowadays made of rubber coated tubes filled with floatation materials. Nearly from the day we could walk we would see how far we could get before falling off the boom and into the lake. It became a rite of passage when we could swim along the boom out to the island or take our inflatable rafts to it. These were our Huck Finn moments.

My dad and I sometimes rowed out and fished around the island. I miss those times of quiet conversation as we tried to lure trout and bass to our hooks. Whenever I see the island, I remember those times and I am warmed by the memories of them. It is a holm to me.

A week ago, as I wrote this, I was at holm with Jim and Shirley McClelland, free of the river’s currents, rapids, and rocks. A place of peace and sanctuary. I feel at home at their place, always. I rode my motorcycle up to see them, hang out with Jim with his various errands, and take in a Giants’ game at Oracle Park. As arduous as my ride up was (I’ll need to write that story for Iron Side Up) I needed a place to catch my breath. The ride provided me space to think and pray about things and then push them away to pay attention to the road. With Jim and Shirley, it is as though no time has passed and we pick up where we left off. I love them for it.

Mike and Van Schermerhorn’s place is another holm, and island of respite. The last time I was with them I had rented a trailer to help Mike move a patio set to a friend of theirs in need. As with Jim, it seemed that no time had passed and we picked up where we last saw each other. Mike and Van bought lunch for me which we had shared with friends of theirs. They needn’t have, the warmth in sharing in their kindness was more than enough payment. I love them for it.

My sisters’ places and kids’ homes are places we stay that offer the same sort of comforts of love, joy, and peace – they are places to rehab my soul. Holms in the river, though with the grandkids the times are more otterlike than completely restful.

My prayer for you, my encouragement to you, is that you find your holms. And those that you already know, pay them a visit and heal a bit from the rush and keep a weather eye out for new holms.

In His grip,

jerry

Biblical river references:

Psalms 46:4 - "There is a river, the streams whereof shall make glad the city of God, the holy place of the tabernacles of the most High."

Revelation 22:1-2 - "Then the angel showed the river of the water of life, clear as crystal, proceeding out of the throne of God and of the Lamb."

Genisis 2: 20 - “A river flowed from the land of Eden, watering the garden and then dividing into four branches.”

Drafted. Doggone it!

 

I called to her, as I have been for weeks now. Finally, she turned to me, the smile on her lips giving her careworn face a lift I hadn’t seen since she last talked to her great-grands. She handed me a wallet card she was holding in her hand. Nothing fancy, muted blues and reds printed on a beige card that read in eighteen-point Times New Roman font “Drafted” across the top.

A message followed in twelve-point Freestyle Script, “Your services are required in the Heavenly Host. Please report at once.”

In the lower right corner in the tiniest of prints possible to read was the signature, “Jesus Christ, Lord and Savior”.

As small as it was, the signature brought a burning to my eyes and as simple as the card was, it broke my heart.

How could I beg her to stay when the servant at her core commanded that she obey the God she had served for at least my lifetime? A lifetime of devotion required one last act of service above and beyond her will to stay and love her kids, laugh with her grandchildren, or teach her great-grands. And so she went quietly and finally without the struggle that so defined the final years of her devotion to her husband.

Aside from being my biggest fan and encourager, I remember mom as being a model of devotion – as a mother, a pre-school teacher, youth advisor, Stephen Minister, Elder, Deacon, bonus mom to many, sister to many more… When you were with her she was devoted to being with you and being whatever it was you needed at the time.

I would really like to know what is behind the door and within the misty room she walked into. I want to know what critical service she is being called to, away from me. Selfish, I know. I suspect a portion of her service will be like that of her father before her, looking over my shoulder and from time to time giving me a nudge.

Mom does nudging well. It is because of her that I started this blog, Calvary’s Thread. I had just put up my second post in Iron Side Up, it was about some Christian mussing or comment of some sort while riding my bike. She said, “You should have a blog just for this kind of stuff.” I had to do what she said, she is my mom after all.

I imagine that after she handed over the card to the gatekeeper, she was ushered into a big hall and greeted by the One Who Invited her, “Well done, good and faithful servant.” And then there was a reunion – Aunt Jean (Mom’s oldest and closest friend), Carol and the other cohorts who started the Center For Children, my dad, her parents, brothers, and sisters. A bunch from the Heavenly Hall of Fame showed her around, there was singing, worship, incense, and an awesome silence filled with love and warmth.

I can live with this vision of her.

jerry

Foul Ball!

A tangent inspired from a men’s meeting filled with enough baseball coaches to run a team and baseball mined men to field one:

We have been playing this game since birth. The Game of Life. According to some theologians and philosophers we’ve been rigging the game since our first breath, if not outright cheating at it. Original sin, some call it. I’ll leave it to you to figure out when you started moving the pieces when you thought nobody was looking and you can determine the why of it all for yourself. That’s not the point here; well, other than a starting point.

We have runners on base in our game regardless of how far along we were when Spring Training Interuptus struck. Nevertheless,  the game of life continues. We have people we want to see on first, things we gotta do on second, and maybe our future on third. Runners all over the place – some at peril of the force out while other are vulnerable to the pick-off. The pitcher is crafty, he’s throwing heat and the hook, the backdoor-slider and the spitball and there doesn’t appear to be anyone to check for the hidden emery board or foreign substances.

We are in the midst of a long at bat with a three and two count and something less than two outs. It seem as though it doesn’t matter if we are knocked down by a pitch because it hits the bat for a foul ball and the count remains full anyway. We have to swing at everything because the umpire is sometimes sane and into the game while at other times he’s coming from left field and everything has been called a strike. We don’t hear a trash can lid or a whistle and the buzzer in our wristband stopped working in the third inning.

There are runners in scoring position. All we have to do is squirt the ball through an infield with a major shift on, even players shifted from the bench to the field and there must be fifteen studs spread out between the foul lines, one or two straddling the lines and it feels like the only safe hit will be into the stands, fair or foul. Studettes too, it’s a friendly coed game, right? No pressure, the game’s not fair.

Your runners are tired, they’ve been breaking on every pitch because the run-and-hit has been called every windup. You’re tired because you’ve swung at everything since the count went full and you’ve had to pick yourself up and climb back into the box for an eternity. Here comes the heater and you swing hitting the ball foul right into fastball alley and you hope a spectator doesn’t get brained. The ball gets tossed back at you from the stands. What the heck, this is a home game!

The runners on base slog back and touch the base. At this stage of the game it’s about the only rule in force and it’s most important to touch up before the next pitch is thrown or the runner will be called out. The pitcher knows this and is ready to quick-pitch when the ump isn’t looking. Nevertheless, your runners know and are faithful to do it while you give them time keeping one foot in and the other out the batter’s box until the runners are reset. While you watch them the base-coaches and runners are both restored and refreshed when the base has been touched. They are more relaxed, focused, and ready for the next pitch. All you need to do is put the ball in play past the drawn-in fielders and you will bring a runner home.

Even if you feel like doing it, don’t lean into the pitch to ‘take one for the team’ and move the game along. With this umpire, he’ll call you on it and with two strikes already you’ll be out and walking to the dugout with no way for you to advance your runners.

Shoot, there are less than two outs. All you really need to do is put a ball deep enough and the runners can tag up and advance. The keys being tagging up and timing their sprint to the next base.

These days with our world turned sideways and the rule-book thrown in the dumpster we need to remember the one good and safe rule - Tag Up! Touch the base and check in with your base coach for the next sign. Take a load off even if for just the span of one pitch. Relax, be ready, and stay sharp. Check in with your friends and family, the people you work with, play with, or do business with. Check the batter; make sure he or she is ready for the pitcher to make his next play. And pray. When all is said and done, that’s the base we need to touch.

In His grip,

jerry

Hebrews 10:23-25 “²³Let us hold unswervingly to the hope we profess, for he who promised is faithful. ²⁴And let us consider how we may spur one another on toward love and good deeds(to run the bases), ²⁵not giving up meeting together (be it from six feet away or some sort of chat), as some are in the habit of doing, but encouraging one another--and all the more as you see the Day approaching(the next pitch).”

Battery Life

Isaiah 40:28-31 and 41:10^a – “²⁸Have you not known? Have you not heard? The LORD is the everlasting God, the Creator of the ends of the earth. He does not faint or grow weary; his understanding is unsearchable. ²⁹He gives power to the faint, and to him who has no might he increases strength. ³⁰Even youths shall faint and be weary, and young men shall fall exhausted; ³¹but they who wait for the LORD shall renew their strength; they shall mount up with wings like eagles; they shall run and not be weary; they shall walk and not faint.” And “^41:10afear not, for I am with you; be not dismayed, for I am your God”.

Have you ever been using a portable electronic device for something important to you? Like your smart-phone, iPad, or notebook computer for a work presentation, or an oral report for a class, or, God forbid, your Sunday sermon and your plan is to be *hip and sharp using the device for your notes instead of, gasp, paper? And the battery dies…you know, like the terrorist underling video-taping the leader’s manifesto in True Lies. “Battery Aziz…” (YouTube clip: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=An-9zO0PlvA)

Do you think it’s a good idea to make sure you come into your critical event fully charged?

Have you ever done all the prep-work I mentioned above and finished your presentation only to look at your battery life to see it in the RED? And you say to yourself and anyone around, “God, that was lucky.” No, that was grace and a simple heartfelt “TYG (thank you God)” is in order.

It is the same way with our spiritual life and my suggestion is to plug in whenever the opportunity presents itself. Go a step further and create the occasion to top off your batteries throughout the day.

How do you recharge? What devices do you use to maintain a connection to the Holy Spirit throughout your day? However you choose to connect, do it. And find something new to try. Maybe it will work for you, maybe not, but the action of finding one will provide a connection in itself and perhaps refresh some of your old tried and true methods.

A few weeks back I downloaded a new ap to my phone, “Oh Snap”. It’s a random reminder generator that pops up with a reminder now and then throughout the day and within the hours you set for it. They can be green (low priority), yellow (medium), or red (hot and frequent). I have one reminder loaded and it is labeled “Stop, It’s Time to Pray”.

The problem with my new ap is that over the last several days it’s been crazy busy with stuff and I’ve simply scrolled by the reminder. They’ve been important things that aren’t fun. I’d rather have been writing a Calvary’s Thread post like I’m doing right now and pausing in the flow to pray.

So friends, stop and pray. Reconnect and recharge every day and frequently. Do. It. Now.

In His grip,

Jerry

*or current, cool, chic, stylish, in vogue, or whatever the latest term for this passe word is that I’ve been unable (or unwilling) to dig out.

Alee

Lauren and me as bowgirl and bowman, on the windward
side and loving every minute of it. Proof that it's okay to
to be on the weather side of things now and then.

“Helms alee”, shouted Skip Barber. All I knew then was to duck because we were changing tack and the mainsail would be swinging to the other side of the boat. If I didn’t duck I’d be boom-swept into the sea and left behind. Skip was helmsman or skipper, appropriately enough, as we raced the Caboter during his club racing series. I thought of myself as the gorilla turning cranks as directed and getting to the rail where my weight and eyes were best used. Turns out I was something of a hybrid of actual nautical terms; trimmer, bowman, and pitman. Some things you learn looking in the rearview mirror.

My understanding of lee, leeward, alee, and such nautical terms deepened during sailing trips with Byron and Shirley Trist on their Jubalee! and Jubalee!!. I was content as a bowman or pitman with my skipper shouting orders at me to be heard above the wind. I’m more at ease navigating a river in a raft or kayak.

Let’s consider the terms these friends introduced me to and did so in more ways than out on the water. ‘Alee’ is defined as on or toward the lee which is defined as the side of something that is sheltered from the wind. Aweather, yet another nautical term from days of yore, is the antithesis of alee. If you are ‘aweather’, you are facing the wind and the oncoming storm. One of my most cherished moments of being alee was during one of our church hikes in the High Sierras. We’d set up our camp for the night with tube tents and had gathered the wood we needed for our fire when a storm rolled in complete with lightening and hail while thunder rolled through the mountains. I stowed my gear in the tube tent and hunkered down against the trunk of a huge Ponderosa Pine with my legs stretched out in front of me. I was alee and only the gentle drops of rain that had worked their way through the tree’s canopy reached me. At rest and in the lee after a long day on the trail with the stormy spectacle all around was a complete feeling for me.

Weather we’ve been racing on the waves, barefoot sailing on the Caribbean, or hiking mountain trails, once we find ourselves alee, the calmness of the moment washes over us and soothes our soul like an aloe balm on sunburned skin.

When we are alee, peace is pervading and spreads through every part of us and exists in our hearts. If you let it. The key to finding rest is allowing ourselves to be in the lee of whatever storm is raging around us. Jesus Christ invites us into His rest, a Sabbath Rest, where we are refreshed from our struggles and the toils of our day-to-day lives.

Hebrews 4: 9 & 10: “⁹There remains, then, a Sabbath-rest for the people of God; ¹⁰for anyone who enters God’s rest also rests from their works, just as God did from his."

It is no coincidence that the first thing I sat down to write after completing the memorial booklet for my cousin is Alee. Lee was a man who could provide shelter from the storm and take a person through the wind and rain of the day to the calmer side of things. I’ve a simple mind and making the connection between my cousin Lee and the concept of alee was easy. Our family recently concluded a weekend at Bass Lake to pass through the winds and waves of grief and loss to celebrate his life. It’s fresh on my mind and I’m thankful to the family for providing shelter during the weekend; it was seen in the hugs, the laughter, and the tears of both joy and grief. My kids, grandkids, and Cindy were particularly effective in this for me. Walks along the lake and up the mountain with Demaris provided periods of quiet recuperation as well. I found shelter in all their laughter and the family’s willingness to be vulnerable and in the moment.

Another person who comes to mind while thinking over this concept of being in the lee couldn’t be more further from the physical description of my cousin, he being 6’8” and she pushing just past the 5-foot mark. She’ll likely be a little embarrassed by me calling her out like this but that is one of the hazards of befriending Jer-bear, as she likes to call me. Again, her name is closely related to the term but Allie herself embodies the concept. She is soothing and brings peace into the struggles of the day. Her abilities to provide a calm place have been most in evidence to me during our trips to Mission Arizona. She is an oasis. Thanks Allie.

The point of this is to encourage us to find a sheltered cove, a big old tree, or a person and get relief from the storm that can be our lives. Take the protection offered, find the peace there, and know that Christ is waiting to sooth our hearts with his love.

Friends, enter the Sabbath rest and find peace today.