A Camel in a Crisis

Curley, the awesome camel

Hello Friend!

I did get your message and yes, I’ve been absent lately.  I apologize.  Since September, I’ve found myself in a peculiar season of transition.  Have you ever felt like your life doesn’t fit?  No matter what I do, I fight a sense of things being incomplete.  Add election madness and the death of Leonard Cohen and you have a Canadian mid-life crisis in the making.  It’s hard to write when tears have taken up residence behind your eyelids.  I’m never quite certain when I will set myself off.  The other day I was talking to a dear soul who is sending her daughter off on her first mission trip sans Mama.  The conversation turned into a counseling session wherein I had to be glued back together because the enormity of children growing up and leaving home just about swallowed me whole.  After presenting myself as a functional yet completely unhinged adult, I went home and considered joining a book club.  I came to my senses a few hours later and decided I needed to take a break.  Which is why, this week, I’m leaving behind all the stress and brokenness to focus on camels.

Sensible yes?

I love camels.

My favorite camel is a fellow named Curley.  In truth, he’s the only camel I’m in contact with these days.  He shows up in a local nursery every Christmas season and when he does, I go out of my way to visit him. Many times.  Frequently.  I first met Curley in 2013.  Life at that time was saturated in despair.  My family got caught up in the economic downturn and was one of the last to recover.  Loss, grief, death, perseverance and the mystery of unanswered prayer created a thick cloud over my family which was difficult to penetrate.  My only respite was found when I left the flat to woggle.  (Not running, not jogging, more an attempt at self-propulsion in an oxygen deprived state.)  For those moments, trying to breathe replaced the gloom.  On an afternoon run, when I had gotten myself well and truly lost, I happened across a nursery that had dressed up for Christmas.  Curious, I wandered inside.   

My visit to this garden center was a gift given at exactly the right time.  I walked inside and found refuge from the confusion that was my life.  With benches everywhere, I was able to sit outside and enjoy the trees and lights, people and peace without needing to interact with anyone directly.  After half an hour of wandering, I found myself by the edge of a coy pond when a young child walked by and told her mother she was ready to visit the camel.  Given that camels are not a regular sight in Seattle, I followed the pink, fleece-clad tour guide, to catch a glimpse of him.  

It’s hard to explain the next half hour.

There, in a hay covered stall stood Curley.  Camels are very large creatures and He was majestic.  At that moment he was holding court.  His minions, excited toddlers, were given pieces of brown bread to feed to his Majesty, should he stoop down to their level to accept their offerings: which he did.  If the whole experience had been about watching a camel eat bread, I might have tired of the affair.  Thankfully, it was so much more.  Curley was a camel with attitude.  A discerning eye might have caught the warning sign, stating that Curley had reach.  To be frank, camels have amazing mouths.  Their top lip is spit and both halves work independently to enable the camel to grasp his food.  Or in this case, slices of bread as well as the hats, scarves and mittens of small children.  The child would offer the bread, Curley would bend down to take it slowly, the child would then turn to mother and squeal with delight, at which point Curley would take full advantage of any unprotected body part to try to munch off any accessory he could get his mouth on.  The end result would be a shouting toddler, a laughing mother and a smug looking camel.  

It was delightful.  For that half hour, my darkness stood back as I watched Gods' creation on display.  A strangely shaped behemoth in need of an attitude adjustment, trying to steal hats from children.  The sheer silliness of it was balm to my frayed heart.    

As we launch into Thanksgiving and Christmas, my prayer for you dear friend, is that God would pierce the area that causes you despair.  There are many, many things wrong with our world today.  Few feel comfortable with the state of society on our small planet.   If we will set our hearts and minds towards thankfulness in the midst of a broken world, we will be more able to see and receive blessings.  It might be a simple visit from a loved one, a precious moment of clarity with a mind clouded by disease, or a ridiculous moment with a family pet.  These blessings, when strung together, have seen many a soul through dark and frightening times.

So I wish you a thoughtful Thanksgiving my friend.  That the Lord would give you the gift of a thankful heart.  A thankful heart is a good vehicle.  Like a camel, a thankful heart can navigate dry lands, steep hills and a tiresome journey.   It has the ability to go the distance with little support and encouragement.  But most importantly, a thankful heart is an oasis to those who are travelling on a broken road toward home.

I’m praying for you this week,

xoxKaren