"God must be a cowboy at heart...."

"Campfire, some coffee,
from a tin cup in my hand.
Sure warms the fingers when it's cold

Playing an old guitar,
a friend I understand,
sure smoothes the wrinkles in my soul

And I think God must be a cowboy at heart.
'Cause He made wide-open spaces,  from the start.
He made grass and trees and mountains,
and a horse to be a friend.
And trails to lead old cowboys home again..."

There was a year or two when this Dan Seals album served as the background music during long, happy days of driving my old Jeep, along Colorado's Front Range, for office appointments and home visits.  Me 'n Dan singing "God Must Be a Cowboy..." at the top of our lungs...the window cranked down, my books next to me on the long bench seat,  and a perfect blue Rocky Mountain sky overhead.   

I like thinking of God as a Cowboy....it makes me smile.  I've had the privilege of knowing some pretty amazing cowboys.  Guys...and gals...like Bob Howe, Rusty Signor, "Bronco" Bill Webster, Dave Marshall, Don Gregory, Dustin Monie, Steve Chitwood, Rob Boucher, Kit and Ian Bartalos, Brooks Anderson, Leslie Miller, Linda Clarke, Allison Paddock Abdelnour, Pete Husack, Heather Barron, Jessie Orlet, Matthew Leon, Laura Southworth, Moffet Zoe, Kenny D"Evelyn, Kristin Voorhees (and oh my goodness, there are so many, many more...including all* the AU corral staff from the last few decades)...but, for me, the cowboy I've learned the most from, about what God, as a cowboy, might be like...is Lachlan Clarke. 

Lach is, first and foremost, a gentleman.  He is gentle.  And it is this gentleness, that makes him one of the strongest men I have ever known.  He is quiet.   Without saying a word, teenagers stop what they are doing...or saying...and wait quietly for instruction.  Horses are calmed, dogs stop barking, and the earth seems hushed in anticipation of his next move. 

He is alert.  If there ever, really, was a man with "eyes in the back of his head," it would be Lachlan Clarke.  He moves with the stealth of an Indian brave hunting in the forest, and on a cattle drive, he can anticipate a steer's next move with uncanny foresight. 

This summer while working with Lach, I learned a lot about why the metaphor of God, as a cowboy, might serve as a spiritual discipline.  I discovered that a cowboy is unfazed by shifting conditions, or scenes.  He is well-prepared, and stays deep in the saddle, whether in storm, or shine.  He is ever-alert to the direction of the wind, the quiver of a horse's flanks, the undulating, hard-packed pasture beneath her hooves, the scents of crushed mountain yarrow, and the evolving gold of an aspen-filled valley.  He is alert, but unruffled by fast-approaching weather patterns...making course corrections, and trail changes without reaction, or remark. 

No matter how alarming the picture, a cowboy...or at least the ones I've known, and especially Lachlan Clarke...takes it in stride.  It's not a problem, just another opportunity to put a developed skillset to use...cleaning, bandaging, repairing, navigating, nursing, all done without fear, or trembling.    He knows that the real work happens in the heart.  He is calm, mentally disciplined, unruffled.  He has an entire herd of horses (and sometimes, kids and cattle) reading the winds of his emotional leadership, he can't afford to react...so he doesn't.

I could go on and on. 

A cowboy's love for the entire earth...dry, dusty pastures, verdant mountain valleys, long hot days, clear, cold nights under a bowl of stars with a "horse to be a friend," a mug of something hot in his hands, and a guitar for conversation...it's all good.  His ability to lead without saying a word...to signal a change of direction, with a hand so gentle, that those watching have no idea that a finger even twitched.

But what Lach most taught me this summer, about God as a cowboy, was the gentle strength of love.  Love without words, love that encourages with the tenderness of a whisper, love that is firm, love that lets go, love that has the courage to do what needs to be done, love that laughs, and sings, and says, "no," while making you just so glad that you were deserving of his correction. 

I learned practical lessons about the love that listens with every cell of its entire being, while still aware of everything else around him.  About the love that comforts with one smooth stroke along the long neck of a mare who is skittish and uncertain in a new setting.  I learned about the love that persists long after everyone else has gone to the dining room for dinner, and is up before dawn.  I learned that an entire herd will stand at the fence line waiting for his boots on the porch of his cabin in the morning, or his truck on the road at dinnertime...and I learned that even the most distracted teen will give his/her undivided attention to the kind of love that puts up with "no nonsense," but loves beyond mistake or failing. 

Yes, I do think that God must be a cowboy at heart, because not only did He make "wide open spaces from the start," but because all the cowboys (and cowgirls) I know have taught me to trust in the unseen, listen for the unheard, wait for the unexpected, and love with the unparalleled, unfathomable, incomparable tenderness founded in real strength...strong faith, hope, and respect for God's silent power, tender mercy, and amazing grace.

Thanks Lach, Linda..and all the amazing horses who have taught us immeasurable lessons in gentleness, strength, patience, perserverence, trust, and grace...especially to our dear Espresso who taught me to fly...

Kate
Kate Robertson, CS

[photo credit:  Ashley Bay 2010]

*there are so many of you who have taught me the gifts of divine Love, from the saddle of a horse...I wish I could name you, each and all, here...but the list would be so long I would never get this posted.  Please know that you are there in my heart, and between the lines. Thank you for teaching my daughters about God from this vantage point.  

"I just showed up, for my own life..."

"I'm going to live my life inspired
Look for the holy in the common place
Open the windows and feel
all that's honest and real
Until I'm truly amazed

I'm going to feel all my emotions
I'm going to look you in the eyes
I'm going to listen and hear
Until it's finally clear
and it changes our lives

There are so many ways to hide
There are so many ways not to feel
There are so many ways to deny
what is real

And I just showed up for my own life
And I'm standing here taking it in
and it sure looks bright...
Oh the glory of God is man fully alive..."
- Sara Groves

Yes, it is another Sara Groves' song.  And this one, "I just showed up for my own life," seems to say what is in my heart tonight...and it says it all so joyfully.

For the past year I have been trying to live out from this spiritual concept  -  just show up in the "how" of being, and see what God has planned.  Each day I try to make only one choice....to see God as All-in-all, the only truth and to ground myself in this space.  This standpoint allows me to say, "Yes!" to whatever opportunities present themselves as long as they fit within the focus of my larger spiritual purpose.  Which brings me to this weekend.  I was invited to support a spirituality-based teen activity...and I said, "Yes!"

I didn't know how it was going to turn out, or what it would feel like, but I knew it was the right thing to do.  I arrived on Friday afternoon and Sacramento was socked in with rain and fog.  But I wasn't there for sunshine, I was there to be present and available to whatever God was bringing into my life.  Walking out of the terminal I was greeted by the joyful Jen Dale.  Happy, vibrant, full of spiritual energy, and on purpose herself, she was a gift of girl friendship I didn't even realize I needed that day.

After a few errands (including a stop at the remarkable Dorado chocolates in adorable downtown Grass Valley) we headed up the mountain to meet our group at the Lodge we would be staying at.  Jen and I talked about God, spiritual healing, the common love we share for teens, and our hopes for the weekend and its intended purpose.  Within the first half hour we discovered  that our expected two hour drive, was going to be anything but. 

A blizzard-like storm blanketed Route 80 in heavy wet snow.  And before long, we were stopped absolutely still for two hours while an accident was cleared from the road ahead of is.  But we realized that even there, right in the middle of the highway,  we were on purpose.  And so was our weekend.   Whether we at the Lodge greeting teens or sitting in the car sharing our love for them and reveling in all the ways we shared a sense of purpose in reaching their hearts, we were having a Discovery Bound weekend.  And so were the teens who were traveling in cars with chaperones, parents, and fellow DB participants.  We weren't losing anything...time, opportunities, focus. 

We arrived at the Lodge happy, and spiritually well-prepared.  And so did each group of teens.  They were joyous, eager, and had already begun their weekend of connecting on a deeply spiritual level....one that was full of fellowship and purpose.

We had all been living our Discovery Bound purpose right where we were...in cars, in a blizzard, with eachother.  Without having even talked about the spiritual importance of "why" and "how," as the primary focus of our weekend, and ultimately, our lives (rather than being who, what, where, and when-driven) we had already begun walking the inspirational theme of our weekend.

So, here it is Sunday morning.  I am at Tahoe, sitting in the "upperchamber" of a Ski Lodge while about 30 of our Discovery Bound participants...staff, counselors, parents, and teens...ski, sled, snowboard, play games, and study all around me.  I've even gotten to play a few games of Bananagrams...so much fun!! Playing Bananagrams was like giving the child in me permission to play in the snow and giggle, while she put snow down the back her best friend's parka!! There is more than a few feet of deep powder blanketing each building, tree, and mountain in every direction I look, through the windows of the cavernous Lodge.   It is a winter sport wonderland...a magical white playground for people who like to ski. 

I wouldn't necessarily call myself a winter sports enthusiast.  I like to skate.  In fact, in high school, my sister and I were rather good on the little pond just below our carriage house.  I loved spending entire days skating...from one bonfire to another...on the Raritan River.   But skiing has never been high on my list of favorite activities.  There, I have said it.  I have voiced it publicly.  

That doesn't mean that I can't ski, or that I am afraid of skiing.  I actually know how to ski quite well.  I just don't love it.  And I figure, at the price of lift tickets these days, unless you absolutely love it, it is a phenomenal waste of one's resources...time, energy, the electricity it takes to run the lift, the $76 a day for a lift ticket... to really be wishing the whole time that you were inside the lodge sitting by a roaring fire with a new friend, a book, a journal, your knitting and a pen. But I digress... So why am I here? And if I don't really love to ski, how could this weekend be in line with my larger purpose.  That's easy...I love teens.  I love being with them.  Hearing them talk and laugh, question and discover.   I love walking this path with them as they explore their spiritual lives through extreme activities.  So, it was a perfect fit.   Even though it didn't seem like it earlier in the week. 

When Jen asked me if I would like to come be with them, as a Christian Science practitioner, for this ski weekend, I didn't hesitate.   Not even for a second.   It didn't matter to me that it was skiing, or that it would be bitterly cold and that I own neither snow boots, hat, or suitable clothing.  I would be on purpose no matter where I was or what was going on around me.  I would show up and watch carefully to see what God had in store for all of us.  And for me, that meant I would start where I always start...I'd study Scripture, pray, talk to kids, love them, and hopefully, let them know that no matter what they were going through, considering, or experiencing, I could assure them, with absolute confidence,  "you are not alone...God is with you."  I know because I've experienced His care, guidance, and the transformative power of His love to heal, on countless occasions in my own life..

For me, it didn't matter where I was, or what the weather report was screaming at me, about my capacity to have fun.  I could have just as easily be sitting on the porch of Crowsnest at camp.  It could have been a beautiful summer day in the Rockies...hummingbirds darting and hovering, the brooklet babbling, teens in bathing suits and board shorts playing frisbee on the lawn of Valerie Lodge...I am me, I am doing what I do and I LOVE it.

I think this is the reason why I have never taken a vacation or gone on holiday since I began this work.  I love it.  It has nothing to do with a self-inflated, false sense of responsibility.  I am not a martyr denying myself happiness and joy.  I am someone who loves what she does and doesn't really want to do anything else.  I love taking my work wherever I go.  I love taking calls and being available anytime day or night.  I love being on a South African beach and having my cell phone ring and find that I am as ready for a call there, as I would be in my office.   I love this work.  And I just know that each of my colleagues, fellow Christian Science practitioners...spiritual healers...must feel just the same.  For me, spiritual healing is all about how we think, live, speak, and engage with others...not who we know, where we live, what we drive, or when we get up or go to bed.  I think it's why we make ourselves available, and and, for me, it's all about how...how, how, how.... 

I love the focus on "how" in Mary Baker Eddy's poem "Feed My Sheep":

"Shepherd show me how to go
O'er the hillside steep
How to gather
How to sow
How to feed Thy sheep..."

She doesn't ask God to show her who to go with, when to leave, what to take, or where the destination is...but how.  For me, this "how" is defined by Eddy's definition of "Moral." in her how-to book for the spiritual thinker and healer:

"MORAL.  Humanity, honesty, affection, compassion,
hope, faith, meekness, temperance."

It takes courage, but when we put treating eachother humanely, speaking our hearts honestly, sharing our affection wisely and generously, seeing ourselves, and others, through the lens of true compassion, approaching each moment filled with hope, trusting in the inherent goodness of others because we have faith in God as the only Cause and Creator, forgiving from the space of meekness, and acting temperately as we experience God's blessings, first...we are on such holy...happy...ground.

One of the boys just came up to the table where I am working and asked me if I was going to come out into the snow with them.  I could see that he was worried that I wasn't having the fun he imagined I would be having, if only I didn't have to work.  I turned to him with a big smile and said, I am having so much fun watching you, and praying, and talking to your friends, taking calls and writing that I will be perfectly happy right here.  

But I could see he might still be feeling sorry for me.  So I explained to him that I REALLY love what I do as much as he loves snowboarding.  It is exciting, refreshing, joyful work for me.  I told him that I have never wanted a day off in over twenty-five years because every second is such fun.  I ended with, "I love you and your friends.  I'm here, that's more than enough happiness and fun for me."  His jaw dropped, then I could see that he got it.  He leaned over and hugged me, tightened his boots, turned towards the stairs leading to the deck where his snowboard was waiting, and called over his shoulder, "Have fun!!"

I am.   When I keep the "how" of living, thinking, speaking, and behaving in the forefront of thought...I am sure to have a wonderful time...always. Perhaps next winter, having a wonderful time will include an awakened love for skiing!! 


Okay, I am back in St. Louis now and as I look back on my trip I am overwhelmed with gratitude. This past weekend, I had a truly wonderful time. Thank you Jen, Forrest, Johanna, Allison, Mark, Jacob, Nate, Jenny..and all my new Northern California Discovery Bound friends...you taught me so many new lessons about living in the "how"... and on purpose.

with Love,
Kate
Kate Robertson, CS

and thanks to the Dale family...Bill, Wyatt, Ari, and Bill Sr....for your warm hospitality.  And Bill, your photo is perfect!!

group photo by Nate Lillge 2010

"She loved me like a rock..."

"When I was a little boy
And the Devil would call my name
I'd say "Now who do,
Who do you think you're fooling?"
I'm a consecrated boy
I'm a singer in a Sunday choir

Oh my mama loves me, she loves me
She get down on her knees and hug me
She loves me like a rock
She rocks me like the rock of ages
And loves me
She love me, love me, love me, love me..."
- Paul Simon

Okay, it may seem like a stretch, but this afternoon while driving to an appointment, I turned on the radio and Paul Simon's "Loves Me Like a Rock" started playing.  Immediately I found myself thinking about Jesus and his mother. 

She loved him. Oh, she loved him.  She got down on her knees, and hugged him.  It made me cry.

Last weekend I met some moms and dads who love their teens...deeply.  They'd volunteered for a conference focused on nurturing the spiritual lives of teen thought-leaders.  These moms, dads, and adult mentors gathered on a college campus in the heartland to celebrate spiritual leadership and its  promise of peace, health, and collective prosperity in an ever-expanding global community.  It wasn't hard to see how much they loved them.   I could imagine each one of those teens...with an adoring adult on his/her knees hugging them, loving them, believing in their gifts, celebrating the remarkable thinkers they are...knowing that they can accomplish all good, because they are all good. 

I could see each of these adults at the wedding in Cana encouraging a young healer's friends to have faith that the water would become wine.  I could imagine each of these precious parents, adult friends and mentors as silent invisible "women" ministering unto their teen's mission and purpose with prayers, and hymns, and spiritual songs all along a dusty road...sometimes steep, often winding, rocky, and rugged.  I could hear their calls of encouragement, their whispered prayers for protection and guidance.  It wasn't hard to see Jesus' mother encouraging each adult to not lose sight of the vision, to remember what they'ev always known...God is with them...the kingdom of heaven is within every child.

As I drove home from the conference my route took me from the meandering beauty of the River Road ...sailboats gliding lazily, water skiiers laughing as they sliced through the water leaving a wake behind them...to the heart of our city's streets - miles of concrete, hot with Labor Day's humidity and humanity.  The "get down on her knees and hug me" kind of love for teens wasn't as easy to see, but it was palpably there in urban neighborhoods.  Moms, aunts and grandmas sat on cement stoops braiding hair, drinking sweet tea, and encouraging their sons, daughters, and neighbors to "be safe", help one another, and do something good for someone else.   Dads, uncles and grandpas grilled, washed cars, mowed lawns and by example taught their children that family matters, your neighbors deserve your respect, and your word is your pledge.  I've lived in this neighborhood, these were my neighbors, their children were, and are, dear to me. 

As we get down on our knees and hug our children...of all ages...this week, sending them off to school for the first day of sixth grade...or grad school, I pray we see the world as a place full of children with hopes and dreams...and parents who dream with them in kabbutzes, villages, and cities...in burkas, suits, or sarongs.   As we recall our own first dreams for our children's future, their first hopes to become president, physicist, inventor, fireman, or mom...I pray we can stretch our mental arms even further until they reach around all the children of the world...of all ages.  Just like our Father-Mother God who asked a unwed teenage mother over 2,000 years ago to believe an angel, walk with dignity, trust a promise, and never lose sight of a grand vision for His child.

I hope you have a wonder-filled weekend and that we can all find a moment to get down on our knees and hug a child's dream...any...and every...child's dream.  It's never too late to love them, love them, love them...

with Love,
Kate