Dropping By My Life

A young friend of mine and I were kicking around the Valley this afternoon. We visited what I consider my private sanctuary (The Gardens at El Paseo). Few shoppers….nearby coffee…lots of benches …dog friendly. We sat beneath the trees with Daisy the Wonder Dog and let the week pass fall off of us; breathing deeply for perhaps the first time in days.

My friend is younger than I am- by many decades. But she has what the sages would call an old soul. I knew I was there to ask her a question. To get her blessing. To just see what she had to say.

Me: There is an awful lot to be done in the world and a lot of people doing important work.

Wise Young Friend: And? (I was waiting for her to add "Grasshopper", but that didn't happen....)

M: and ….I am here.

WYF….The Valley is a small place, that’s true.

M: Shouldn’t I be out “there” doing something?

WYF: A drop in the bucket.

M: Excuse me?

WYF: It is all a drop in the bucket. It doesn’t matter where you put it. This is your bucket. Take care of the people around you.

I wonder if she ever gets tired of being so young and so wise.

Loaves and Wishes

The other day I read a scripture that, as often happens, I saw in a new light.

It is a story we all know.

Jesus has been teaching the multitudes; it is getting on in the day; and there is no food.

The disciples point this out to Jesus; but the question they are faced with I suspect was a surprise.

He said: How many loaves do you have?

When I read those words, I felt as though I was standing on that windy hill in Israel 2000 years ago and the question was being asked of me directly.

Each day, I tut- tut over the unemployment, the homelessness, the grief, the loss and the pain in my world. And, in my defense, each day I pray- Lord, relieve the suffering.

But now, I know His answer.

“How many loaves do you have?”

His Desert...His Life

The words keep revolving in my head:

This is my desert….this is my life.

My young friend Dillon used those words when he was interviewed by the local news for a video piece. What nobody knew was that it would also be his eulogy and his memorial. One week after the video was released online, he went home to be with the Lord.

I was with Dillon the day that the video was released doing a bit of tutoring and helping him catch up and organize his work. His grades had been slipping. When I asked him if he was concerned, he looked at me with those gentle eyes and said frankly and without any rancor: I don’t care about it. He said he would try to do well in school, but if he did not, that was just the way it was. He then brightened up and asked me if I wanted to go and meet his ducks and his goats.

Dillon's desert is one that people racing around in golf carts or going to mixers and luncheons just don't seem to get. There are 75,000 acres of farmland in the Coachella Valley and Dillon and his 4H friends live in it and for it. They raise livestock, vegetables, and have developed a strong community that tolerates but barely takes notice of our tourism and social shenanigans.

When he said those words: This is my desert, this is my life, I realized that this 13 year old kid had done what most of us are struggling to do - he had a life.

He had friends....an estimated 1000 people showed up for his memorial.

He knew what was important...he was up at dawn to care for his animals. He made his friends smile and laugh. He loved his kid brother and his mom and dad.

He had a purpose....see for yourself.

http://www.mydesert.com/article/20081104/LIFESTYLES14/311040002