Thinking vs. Faith

A little something that I heard on the radio while in St. Vincent and The Grenadines last week:

"THINKING can get you to the bottom of the mountain but FAITH can get you to the top of the mountain."

Poem: Morning in St. Vincent & The Grenadines

Caribbean landscapes and rhythms loom lush
The anxious flap of an exotic bird’s wings
The sway and swing of a sister’s firm hips that
Stride familiar with steep hills and deep valleys
The splash of the sea on the shore’s volcanic rock
Beats out the three-quarter time.

An unclaimed yellow dog barks in thanksgiving at a discarded meal
The mooing of yonder tied-to-the-side-of-the-road cow,
Allows the rhythms to simmer and syncopate.

The wind tiptoes across the small waves of the sky-blue reflected waters
The subtle creak of coconut trees
The palm trees clapping their huge fanned leaves in what must be praise
Puffs of foliage like green paint-soaked sponges dabbed
onto a freshly blue-washed canvas.
Rich hues of orange, aqua, blue and neon green roofs
atop pastel and white houses scattered amid the hills and mountains
like squadrons of carnival-colored mushrooms and
textured paint splatters left by an artist
abruptly called away to a more urgent task.

Could there be more urgency than these Caribbean landscapes and rhythms command?

Tree-adorned mountains loom like giant watchmen
posted at the gates of Paradise.
The distant hills look like a weary giant lady dressed in parrot green accented with dried-brush beige
She lies on the ground to rest
Face tilted up and away at the sky
Knees bent and slightly parted, she welcomes the trade winds’ caress.
With intrinsic beauty she basks in the sun’s summer kisses.

Cars and trucks beep and accelerations strain to meet the hills’ demands
Like sound samples recorded in metropolitan places and patched onto the artist’s palette of Caribbean landscapes and rhythms that God
birthed into this morning in St. Vincent and the Grenadines.

© 2005, Stanice Anderson, Inspirational Speaker & Author of I Say A Prayer For Me: One Woman’s Life of Faith and Triumph, www.stanice.com

Poem: The Caribbean Sea at St. Vincent & The Grenadines

Sprawled out before my eyes—
far from the world I knew before this place—
the Caribbean Sea
disguised from this distance as a slate blue-gray sleuth
a slow-moving fog hovers inches from the surface.
Fluffy dingy-white blankets of clouds pregnant with rain
maneuvers themselves to vantage points that only God knows
A kite’s tail of mountainous islands rise up
from the belly of the Caribbean Sea
like angry sleeping dragons
aroused by what must be beauty’s silent thunder
The kind of beauty
that only God could create.
It’s the difference between an airplane and an eagle.
Between 20,000 earth-bound bridges and one heavenly comet
A camera’s flash and a solar eclipse
The Caribbean Sea
Sprawled out before my eyes
Like a heavy laden desert cart after a six-star meal

© 2005 Stanice Anderson

Grand-Ma

This week, I leave for a ministry trip to St. Vincent and the Grenadines, West Indies. My schedule includes speaking at The National Women’s Gathering, talks for youth, and finishing a play that I’m writing. Awesome right? However, I will not be home on Mother’s Day and the thought made me feel a bit sad.

On my last visit to St. Vincent in May 2003, my hosts asked if I wanted to stay another week. I declined because I wanted to be home for Mother’s Day—and that was before my grandchild was born. Now in addition to my own mom, there is my son, Michael, and his daughter, Michal Zoë, here in the US--and me--without them--in another country on Mother's Day.

An unspoken prayer sprang up from my heart, “Lord, please, I need peace for this journey.” Before the day's end, thoughts drifted into my mind and took me back to Saturday, April 23, 2005.

While spending the evening with my son and his family, I gave my granddaughter a vocabulary lesson. Two days into being ten-months-old, we worked our soon-to-be almost-favorite word, “GrandMa.” She sat on my lap and studied my lips, as I pronounced clearly, slowly, and repetitively, “Grand-Ma, Grand-Ma.”

Michal Zoë peered intently into my mouth, touched my lips, and fluttered her eyes as my breath escaped upon each syllable. She smiled at me in between my long string of the unfamiliar word, as if it registered in some newly discovered corner of her brain. Again, I repeated, “Grand-Ma” until something clicked within both of us and we knew the day’s vocabulary lesson was over.

Michal Zoë confirmed this as she slid off my lap and onto the blue-gray carpet. She crawled over to her Mommy and pulled up as if she intended to share her experience in GrandMa's class.

It’s okay, I thought, one day she will say “GrandMa” and so much more. I sighed as I let go and yielded to God’s perfect timing.

I felt happy and content as I watched her. In the next moment it happened. My granddaughter turned toward me. Distinctly and slowly, she formed her lips and said, “Grand-Ma.” As if she knew she aced an exam, she offered Grand-Ma a smile that sealed the day into the annals of our family's history of firsts.

I know now that on Saturday, April 23rd the Lord, because He sees way down the road, gave me my Mother’s Day present early. Once again, God heard my prayer and sealed it with a promise, “And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.” (Philippians 4:7).

Therefore, I joyfully embrace God’s assigned journey. I carry within my heart, mind, and spirit—my mom, son, and granddaughter—even to the ends of the earth.

© 2005 Stanice Anderson