Solitaire Observations

I play Solitaire on my iPad when I have time to kill. There is something soothing about just barely touching the cards and seeing them fly to their new address on the screen. At the risk of being too introspective, I'm sharing a couple of things that have occurred to me while playing this silly game.

I usually play the Hard level, and my tablet reminds me that "not all Hard games are winnable". It's an interesting choice to have to make. If I'm playing a Medium game and I lose, then I definitely did something wrong, because they are always winnable. One can replay a game over and over until it's a win. I can learn how to beat the computer. If I paly a Hard game and don't win, I can believe it just couldn't be won. What kind of game would you play?

I've learned in my gazillions of games that sometimes the winning strategy is to not always play everything you can play the first time it's presented to you. Sometimes waiting will actually allow for more possibilities to be uncovered, leading to the win. Good things, the "right" things may be in front of you, available. But the best time to play that card may not be now. What good things are in front of you today? When is the best time to play that card?

The Prodigal Luggage

We returned Friday from a quick Spring Break trip to see my mom in Arizona. My bag had an extended vacation and finally returned home just after midnight last night, so technically, Tuesday. I've never had this happen before. Do we all kind of wonder while watching the bags go around on the carousel if it will be our turn to have lost luggage? This time was my time.

It shocks me to find so many emotions attached to my stuff. It is just stuff, after all. But as the days crawled by and still no word about my bag, I began to inventory in my mind what I had in it. A favorite pair of sandals that were bought on clearance at least 3 years ago. Worth nothing monetarily speaking, but irreplaceable. My whole skin care regimen, worth a ton surprisingly, and a hassle to replace. And since I went 3 days without it, I shall now be wrinkled and blemished forever. Just stuff that I can make jokes about now, but I was actually a little distraught during the time of waiting. That is not who I want to be.

My bag has a story, one that I'll never know. I have bits of information. The gal at the Central Baggage Office at O'Hare told me that it was found in Phoenix; the paper sticker tag from the airline had fallen off (how does that happen?) and that fortunately, since I had a big protected plastic tag of my own attached to it, they contacted every airline until they found the one we had flown on to figure out where it should go. But when the uber driver (really.) knocked on our door just after midnight (really.) and gave us the bag, the plastic tag was not on it. There's just a paper tag attached to the handle that says "Julie Dahlberg, Wildwood, IL" with no other information. Everything seems to be in the bag, just as I packed it, so I believe that the fancy tag is how my bag got back to me, but where's that tag? Why would someone take that? Where, what, who, why??? I just won't know.

I am grateful to have my suitcase returned, unharmed. All is right again, and there are many lessons to be learned. I'm sitting right now with the idea that there's a story, and there always is one. My bag would've had a story even if it had been on the carousel for me. We have stories. We carry them with us and they mark us. All the people we encounter have stories. Some we may get to know, some maybe never. Obviously, I have work to do if a suitcase full of missing belongings can leave me distraught. I want to try to hold loosely the stuff, and be sensitive to the stories, whether they are shared with me or not.

Milkshake, Anyone?

I have a beautiful brand-new kitchen (4 years old) and it is my favorite place in the house. It's bright, warm, functional, and colorful. I try to be generous with my kitchen; I let other people use it and mess it up. But truthfully, I do think of it as MY kitchen. Perhaps that's wrong of me. Maybe I'll explore that someday. Probably not. So, as I think of it as my space, I do have some standing requests of others when they use it. Like, when you spill on the counter, clean-up is easiest immediately following the spill. It takes a lot more effort to clean off dried up, turned-into-cement gunk than it does to wipe up right away. If I had a nickel for everytime....Broken record, anyone?

A milkshake was made last night. Drips were dropped on the counter. They were left there overnight. I'm not naming any names. This is a perfect example of something that would be nothing to wipe up when it happened, but instead takes actual elbow grease this morning. It's good to keep my muscles working. There was one kinda big blob that didn't want to leave the counter, so rather than fight with it, I put a damp paper towel on it and walked away. When I came back 30 minutes later, it was rehydrated and came up easy-peasy.

Listen, drips happen. The only way to be guaranteed drip-free is to be milkshake-free, and nobody wants that. Do we recognize that after the drips, we have choices about how to deal with them? Do we choose immediate attention, deferred attention and then full-on wrestling, or softening and waiting?

We make choices all the time. I like to choose on purpose. The first step is to recognize that I am in fact, making a choice, then pick the one I really want. Milkshakes for everyone!

Keep Bending

Yesterday (or maybe Sunday, depending on who you want to believe on the internet) was National Puzzle Day. I wish I had known beforehand. I would have celebrated. Over Christmas break, our family did a jigsaw puzzle. That's a very generous description of what happened. The puzzle was laid out on one end of the kitchen table. It was available at all times for the whole family. And I think everyone who entered our house found the right place for a piece or few. But the truth is, jigsaw puzzles are actually only fun for me. The rest of the family tolerates them. This year I ambitiously chose a 1,500 piece puzzle. Almost bit off more than I could chew, and by the time we were finished, I didn't even like it anymore. But since I spent so much time ruminating over that puzzle, I did have some thoughts that I'll share.

A few years ago, I wrote a blog post that still rings true. (Thankfully, I am not still where I was when all of those were written. God is good, and He helps us grow.) The post was about a phrase I use often, and found myself uttering repeatedly as I pored over that infernal puzzle, searching for a particular piece. "Sometimes you have to bend." I did so much bending, my back ached. But bending is required when you really want to find something. That was the point of my original post; that what we are looking for doesn't always appear before us--sometimes we need to do a little digging.

One of the beauties of a brand-new jigsaw puzzle is that all of the pieces ARE there. They don't vaporize, they don't disappear. If you keep looking, you'll find all of the pieces and they'll fit together perfectly. (Having cats in the house can present an extra challenge, as pieces do get relocated.) There is comfort in knowing that each piece is right there somewhere, and it will all come together. There is also frustration, when you know it should be doable, but you just can't make it work. And I guess that's my point today. The frustration can't win. In order to complete a puzzle--even an infernal one--I have to keep bending. Bend right through the aching, or try looking from a different angle. I have to hold on to the belief that what I'm looking for IS there.

I am waiting for answers and direction. Bending might look like taking a few steps forward in one direction. It can look like embarking on a new path. I might need to move so I can look from a different perspective. Bending might look like studying Scripture. It might look like surrendering my will. Whatever bending might mean to you today, may you hold on to the belief that what you are looking for IS there, and keep searching.

And here's some belated National Puzzle Day encouragement from the Bible, "Let the wise listen to these proverbs and become even wiser. Let those with understanding receive guidance by exploring the meaning in these proverbs and parables, the words of the wise and their riddles. Fear of the Lord is the foundation of true knowledge, but fools despise wisdom and discipline."(Proverbs 1:5-7 NLT)