Happy October Greetings, My Friend!
Long time—no “e”! I have returned from my travels and am back in my dear little office. With the addition, I might add, of COVID. Yup, along with a few souvenirs, I picked up a bug. This is the second time I’ve visited Dublin and returned home with COVID-19. Fortunately, I can take many naps, which seems to help. On to another subject!
As I mentioned, this was not my first trip to the Emerald Isle. And this time, we had “old” friends with us. (Old as in from a long time ago, of course.) Kevin’s Best Man from our wedding and his wife were along for the fun. They had never been to Ireland. One of the stops on our itinerary was the Cliffs of Moher. Have you been?
They are spectacular!
I was excited to see them again myself, but was also excited about seeing our friends see them. I couldn’t wait for them to see the sheer drops and the stark, bleak, ruggedness of the place. I remember seeing them nine years ago, unable to look away. They are beautiful and terrifying at the same time. I stayed safely in the area behind a wall, but far more adventurous sorts were walking all over—steep drops be damned! (Pardon my Irish!) I have a favorite photo of Kevin and me with the cliffs behind us. I have it framed, and it sits atop our TV stand in our family room.
Our second trip to the cliffs was not quite as it was the first time.
OK, so we knew there was going to be some rain in the forecast. After all, this is Ireland, of course, there is rain! We were prepared: warm clothing, rain jackets, umbrellas, hats, and gloves—Jerry sported the funniest-looking clear rain jacket, complete with a hood. We called him “The Man from Glad” because he appeared to be wearing a large baggie. We parked the car in the “car park” and started the short(ish) walk to the cliffs. As it happens, they have named storms there, just like we have named hurricanes in Florida. We were hanging out with “Storm Amy.”
When we got to the cliffs, all we could see was white. Fog, fog, fog. If you looked in one direction, you could sort of see a cliff. Sort of. But it looked nothing like the view I saw nine years ago. I kept saying to our friends, “I wish you could see what’s right there! It’s so beautiful!” We stood there for a while, hoping the fog would go away. Lord knows the wind was blowing strong enough. But no, it never did. We considered walking a bit farther, but it was foggy as far as we could see, and the wind and rain were not helping. We turned around and went back.
I felt so discouraged that our friends couldn’t see what I had seen on that previous trip. It was right there! We were right there!
That reminded me that there are probably many times during an ordinary day when something spectacular is right in front of me. Still, something is covering it up—my own sadness, my busyness, or my distractedness? How often is there beauty that I just can’t see? What might I be missing?
Sometimes life stinks, and it feels like there is nothing good happening. In such instances, it’s good to remember that not everything is always as it appears. Sometimes there is something extraordinary right there—and we just don’t see it.
I love the way The Message says this in 2 Corinthians 4:16-18: “So we’re not giving up. How could we! Even though on the outside it often looks like things are falling apart on us, on the inside, where God is making new life, not a day goes by without his unfolding grace. These hard times are small potatoes compared to the coming good times, the lavish celebration prepared for us. There’s far more here than meets the eye. The things we see now are here today, gone tomorrow. But the things we can’t see now will last forever.”
Praying for open eyes and no fog for you this week, my friend!
Written with love – – – Patti XOXO
Nine years ago . . . . there are those cliffs!