The Arrow

CHAPTER 1

With its petite trunk and delicately arched branches, the young chestnut bonsai seemed to be peering out to the old oak tree in the nearby garden. The old oak, with its massive silhouette, seemed to be nodding in reply. The window in between worlds, cracked open, left long, white, paper-thin curtains waiting for gentle breeze. Nearby, seated in the cozy, over-stuffed club chair of her coffee-hour nook, Teacher-Turned-Student stretched in the early morning light. Immersed in the quiet, she did not take the hour nor the space for granted. Both were designed with intention.

Freshly cooked breakfast aromas hung in the still air. As she scooped the last of the eggs from her plate, she contemplated where to start. A blank composition notebook and a newly sharpened pencil were beside her. The table was set with all the right ingredients to tell her story, yet the task remained daunting. To paint such a beautiful picture for others to see and to feel, well, it needed divine intervention. She had felt it all those times before. Now, could she summon it?

Where should she start?

With “The Our Father,” she instinctively knew was her only prayer.

Her coffee cup placed back on the worn, wooden table beside her, hand to her forehead, she began. In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Teacher-Turned-Student had learned from her class that nothing was more beautiful than when one voice comes together with others. In an early lesson, she had asked the young group to say each line of the Lord's Prayer softly, not listening to one’s own, but to the collective whispers. Today as she prayed she heard the whispers. With eyes resting closed, she did not notice the white curtain flutter, but she did notice a subtle lily-of-the-valley scent enter the room. She found herself writing out The Lord's Prayer. Jen wondered if whispering the words had become lost to the world.

In that early lesson when she began teaching her faith to the "littles," she looked at each of the lines of The Prayer to try to figure out what it all meant. Before this, she realized she had been just rambling the rhythms. She discovered more about her faith and about herself every time she prepared to teach. This particular lesson startled her at how little she really knew.

Simple at first, the meaning came to her, but the deeper she went, the more she found, which in turn made her search on further. No matter what depth she ultimately uncovered, though, she always managed from time to time to lose that intimacy.

Her mind wandered to one of those times just a week earlier, before the snows started to melt, when she knew she was lost. Words bounced around in her head to try to explain it. But, the only description that came to the surface was what she did not feel. Peace. She did not feel peace. She scribbled thoughts to try to sort it out.

There is something, I say,

that smells of comfort,

tastes of confidence, feels of lightness, when my center is centered, a warm ray. Marked by patience and kindness,

the day eyes duty not drudgery,

mountains manageable,

hot air balloon well on its way.

I sense a stranger’s need

like a magnet it pulls me

Not in the plan, yet time allows for delay. Challenges are not change agent.

Acceptance and optimism are plentiful. This peace… I hear it grow

when given away. But when the center is weak…

chance of joy today bleak,

on a boat with no anchor, nor paddle down creek. A numbness... forgetting what

not should be forgotten. Levity and laughter

are playing hide and go seek. Anger comes quickly.

Old wounds awaken.

A hamster in its wheel… Can’t name the day of the week. Every day is a new wheel,

but always ends the same.

I am restless, foggy, tired. Finally I give.

And I shriek.

On the floor beside her, her four legged friend, Penny Lane, twitched noisily in her sleep as if she was running. Teacher-Turned-Student looked up from her notes and watched the small dog move through her dreams. What was Penny Lane thinking? What had she been thinking about? Oh yes, she had been thinking about that day in the woods, before the snows had melted. It was a frigid day back in the spring. Coincidentally, not only did she feel lost, it was the same day that she had lost Penny. Her mind recalled the story. She picked up her pencil.

“Penny Lane!” Jennifer called nervously, “Penny, COME!!”

Only silence came in return though, as she searched the wintery, woodland trails beyond her back yard. There were miles and miles of familiar trails yet on this day there were miles and miles of fear, unknowns and uneasiness. Every time she called to their new puppy, no new puppy responded.

Jennifer knew the trails well. Ginger Spice was the family's beloved first dog, a brown, long-haired dachshund. Together, the hunter and she spent sixteen years wandering the paths. When the family was young, they discovered tall pine trees towering over the oak and birch, smaller saplings bending over to the ground, creating little woodland tableaus. The ferns, thick and rich with texture, lined the pathways as the streams got closer. And, secret stories lived beyond each bend. The woods were home to her.

How to tell the story right, she pondered again, as she called to her Lord once more.

"In the name of the Father... Focus on where it comes from, she insisted. And of the Son… Jesus, please help guide me. Show me how to tell this tale. And of the Holy Spirit… with a deep breath in she opened herself, please let me be the channel of your message." Teacher-Turned-Student quieted her heart.

Almost on cue, the small puppy named Penny Lane awoke and jumped up into the chair beside her. The plate of eggs finally getting finished, the puppy lapped up the salty yolk. She watched the contented dog curl back in to finish her morning nap. Teacher-Turned-Student smiled with love at her new friend. “DOG is GOD spelled backwards,” she recalled her Faith Formation mentor telling her so many years before. DOG spelled backwards, she knew made sense, as she felt love inside of her, then with a deep breathe, invited more love in. The enormous amount of God’s love spread. The sun shone brightly through the window as the morning hours quietly crept on. The love she felt, magnified and unending, Unconditional Love, God’s Love, the words in her own vocabulary didn't seem enough to describe it.

The light softness of the puppy’s fur was on her fingertips. The gentle breathing noises coming from her friend’s tiny frame made her breathe more deeply. As Penny slept, Teacher-Turned-Student couldn’t help but wonder, "Why is it so hard to keep focus? The times I feel and know God’s Love change me from half empty to over flowing. So, why do I let Him and His Love wander in and out of my heart like a puppy through the back door?"

She found herself thinking back to the wooded trails beyond her own back yard. Back to Rush Pond Way, her mind wandered again, calling for Penny. She had so much to find.

“Penny Lane…” Jennifer called over and over. “Penny! Come!”

Now, her calls were more urgent, beginning to get frantic. The path meandered up a hill where the frozen pond could be seen in the distance below. “Penn-eeeeeeeey!” she called for what seemed like the hundredth time. It had been over an hour since the walk they began together got interrupted, since they lost one another.

'Lost,' she thought, 'Yes. I am lost, too.' The ice below had started to thaw, and her fear that Penny had fallen through the slushy, icy water chilled her bones. An ash gray sky was dismal and seemed lifeless. “Yes, I am lost, too,” she whispered aloud. “It has been too long since I had Him with me.” She began to pray.

'God, why is it that I let Your Presence out of my heart? Why do I let days go by without asking for Your guidance? When I know what You have done for me… when I know it…I feel guilty. I really don’t deserve these gifts. Why me? I am sorry, Lord God, I am so, so sorry.'

“Penny Lane!” she whispered for the 101st time, sadly.

'Dear Lord,' she continued, as a tear welled up in her eye, 'Please forgive me for taking for granted Your Love. Please forgive me for knowing it yet continually letting it slip away. Forgive me for thinking I can do it alone. You are always here for me, but am I always there for You? As I promised You I would be?'

As her eyes reaching up from beneath a bowed head looked up to the icy distance, a comfortable, old friend of Peace slowly rolled through the Teacher-Turned-Student. This time the view wasn’t as cold; the rays of the sun were beginning to stream through, warming the earth. Light bounced off the ice and back through the woods; long shadows marked lines on the earth, like arrows calling her home. The rich beauty of the woods that was not seen earlier, was now visible from every angle. Long, deep breathes of comfort were taken in. Deep love filled her heart. The fear, miraculously, melted. A tear rolled down as she forgave herself.

Smiling at the world around her for the first time in too long, she remembered telling her son recently that it was impossible to think clearly when upset. What a story that one was, she laughed to herself. She then thanked her Lord God for Peace in her heart. She thanked Him again and again.

'I’ll walk back home, get to my car and drive to the other side of the woods,' she decided. In between calls to her pup, she called to her God as well, with more thanks. She found herself running and happy. An easy pace, breeze through her hair, she knew she would be fine, no matter the outcome. The woods that had seemed so cold and empty just moments before, now were glimmering with light and hope.

As she ran up the last hill toward the back yard of her home, she calmly started planning her next steps. Call to her husband. Coordinate the search party. By dinner, all would be well, she figured. She called her Lord God once more with thanks for a peaceful heart.

She stepped onto a special place... where the woods turned into her own yard. It was a small trail that she had deemed her “Peace Path.” On it now, she slowed her pace to a quieter step. As she had done so many times before, she ducked her head under an impeding, low-hanging branch. She pictured finally grabbing the garden loppers to clear her path. Time! If only there was more time in a day! Almost in slow motion, lifting her head back up to more clearing, she stopped in her tracks, in awe. Sitting a few feet in front of her, inside the invisible line marked by the tiny, white flag of the newly installed electric fence, was Penny Lane, tail wagging, seeming to be grinning at her. Penny had gone back home and was waiting for her.

Like long lost friends, finding one another again, the once lost now was found. She could not have predicted the relief and comfort as she squeezed the pup close. Pup seemed to understand and let her hold tightly. “Thank you, God, for bringing me Peace, long before this moment. For with You, everything became brighter, everything became all right.”

GINGER SPICE

As she told the story to her friend later in the week, she recalled how profound those woods had been to her and how this incident brought back what seemed to be her first woodlands-learning moment from almost twenty years earlier.

Moving to their new family home, she and her dachshund pup, Ginger Spice, were venturing through the woods for the very first time, long before the town had marked the trails. Exploring woodland trails, turn after turn they ventured. But before long, they encountered one too many crossings in the woodland trails to trust memory to get them back home safely. So, Jen came up with a plan to mark the way. At every intersection of trail they’d encounter, she would leave an arrow made of three small branches on the ground, pointing the direction home. Over the miles, she made a dozen little, wooden, arrow guides. It all seemed to be working perfectly when returning, as they came to each intersection. But then...

“Oh, no! We’ve never been here before,” she spoke aloud to Ginger; somehow they had travelled right past an arrow and had taken a wrong turn. She remembered not panicking but called her God, thanking Him for the glorious day.

Aloud again, she called to Ginger, “Let’s go home,” which caused a chuckle of relief as her four legged friend took the lead. That small dachshund knew the word “home” and knew the way. A minute later, the two travelers came across the arrow that was missed. Now confident, the pair raced back through the woodland paths... free, happy and peaceful.

As she whispered thanks to her Lord God, she glowed with a most beautiful realization. 'Prayer, is like a little arrow in my path. When I go astray, and forget to keep God in my day, a prayer will get me right back. Just like when we had gone astray in the woods, we went back and found the arrow, course corrected and I'm okay!'

The Teacher-Turned-Student promised herself that day to carry this lesson with her. Always. And, to forgive herself which takes a leap of faith, too. The Teacher-Turned-Student was filled, most beautifully.

The writer put the pencil and the notebook down, and noticed Penny Lane was still at her side in the comfort of the coffee hour chair. She rubbed the puppy's silky, soft ear. The pup responded with a long, lazy stretch, rolling over, showing her little, white belly. As if looking to see the status of the story, the puppy lifted her tiny head backward toward her friend. With a deep breathe in of love, His Love, and a deep breathe out, sending It to all around her, Teacher-Turned-Student realized there was an important part of her story that she had not yet put to words. Her mind wandered back to the week earlier, when she was searching in the frozen woods for Penny. How on earth would she be able to describe that noise? Her pencil found the pad again.

Early in the search, calling Penny Lane’s name into the cold, still, air, she had heard something in the woods over her own voice. It was a tiny indistinguishable sound amidst the otherwise quiet pathway.

She had hoped the noise was Penny, as she turned her glance right behind her own step. It was a curious and unexpected little noise. Almost like a little splash. Her feeling was that the sound was her pup returning to her. But, it wasn’t. There wasn't anything behind her. Putting it out of her mind, she traveled on. The sound coming back to consciousness though, it became clear that a little tick of noise had become a tiny beat behind her.

Another step and this time she heard herself whispering out loud. "There it is again!" Now she knew she wasn’t imagining it. Another quiet little, but rather distinctive noise from behind her as she ventured further away from her house actually called her backwards. She had a funny feeling in her heart that the noise meant to turn back, despite the fact that her brain kept guiding her forward toward icy-cold fears.

She stopped to listen for the source of the tiny noise which had oddly been giving her a sense of reassurance that her friend was behind her, not in front of her. It beckoned her to change direct, just to go home. In the stillness, there was only silence. She began again and almost in slow motion, her confused brain put the pieces together; it was her own boot kicking up slush and dropping the slush back down on the ground as she traveled. It was a tiny spattering noise right behind each of her own steps on the ground. Feeling silly, she shook her head and put it out of her mind, continuing onward with the icy search.

The first time the little hint had happened, she immediately hoped it was Penny Lane. The second time, she was confused. The third time, the Teacher-Turned-Student was given a sense of comfort that her friend was behind her, not ahead of her. Trusting her “brain’s direction,” though and not her “heart’s direction,” she ignored the foot step callings and kept traveling further and further. It wasn't until many, many steps later that she had decided to turn back. Had she turned with her heart’s voice, she would have saved herself miles of travel and so much time in turmoil.

Reflecting on the need to tell this part of the story, too, Teacher-Turned-Student turned the page of her notebook and continued to write.

'Was this a little message from our Lord God, a gift? Is such a gift really possible in the woods? Does the Holy Spirit that resides in us open our hearts, to receive messages that only the open hearted can hear? Was the thought of trust, the notion of following God, not one's own understanding a point that must be embraced? Was a friend’s comments about God’s work being a tapestry that only He can see, be the absolute truth?'

She re-read the paragraph scribbled on the page and found herself erasing some of the words and rewriting others, not our Lord God, but my Lord God. She decided to get personal. She went on to take ownership of the prayer's plea...

She read the words aloud:

"Is this all my little message from my Lord God, is it a gift to me? Is such a gift really possible... in the woods? Anywhere? Does the Holy Spirit that resides in me.. allow me to open my heart... to receive messages that only the open hearted can hear? Why me? Is the thought of trust, the notion of following God, not my own understanding a point that I can embrace? Should embrace? Was my friend’s comments about God’s work being a tapestry that only He can see, be the absolute truth? Can I hear Him, and more importantly can I retell it? If I pray every day, can I learn to be a channel of His story? I've seen the stories. I've lived the stories. Will anyone want to hear them?"

Trust?

Trust Him.

She asked this of herself. She told herself.

The arrows telling the direction lay on the forest floor, the Teacher-Turned-Student recalled their meaning, being like prayer. Was this story truly meant for both meanings, laid one on top of the other? Yes, she decided, with all of her heart. Mere words became active verbs: pray and trust. And, she laid the pencil down to free her hand once again, for fingers to reach forehead. In the name of the Father, I trust, and of the Son, I trust, and of the Holy Spirit…..I trust…

The long, white, paper-thin curtains bellowed, as the room was filled with the delicate scent of lily-of-the-valley, and she breathed in Love.