Waking up with the sun.  Having Sunday dinners with my family.  Reading a good book with a cup of coffee.  Going for a long walk with my camera.  Sitting with my nephew in my lap.  Singing the Wicked soundtrack, especially with my Daddy.  Resting in the embrace of those who know me well.  Taking power naps.  Eating tacos after a late night dancing.  Surprising and being surprised by my friends.  Wiggling my toes in the sand.  Strolling through the farmers’ market.  Discovering a new place.  Talking and hearing about my God.  Eating fruit straight from the tree or vegetables from the garden.  Reading old journal entries.  Riding a bike.  Finishing a new blog entry.  Making cards.  De-boarding airplanes.  Building things.  Sitting by the water with friends at night.  Watching my students perform.  Laughing until my abs hate me.  Sitting with families in kitchens.  Playing with little niños in México.  Dancing with my hair down.  Hearing my mom, brothers, and grandmas say, ” I love you.”  Eating breakfast in my pajamas.  Sending and receiving mail.  Getting sweaty, preferably with the music on high and/or with a ball of some sort.  Having spontaneous sleepovers at friends’ apartments.  Cooking for others.  Going to bed knowing that today counted for eternity.

The fuzzy little caterpillar wiggled and wobbled its velvet-like backside up the red oak tree branch.

“Whew,” she let out, breathing heavily.  “I’m not cut out for this.  No more.  Please.  I don’t know what else to do, but I know that I can’t keep this up for long.  Now if only I could fly, getting myself places wouldn’t be so difficult.  Come to think of it, if I could fly…if I could fly!…oh, the places I would go and the things I would see!” she blurted out.  And with that, off went her thoughts like the easterly winds as she further excited herself past the point of weariness and finally into a deep, deep sleep.

In the morning, she awoke suddenly to darkness on all sides.  Panicking and punching ferociously, she busted out of the sheath that had so tightly enveloped her.  Finally free, she climbed her way up the shredded encasement and plopped herself onto the branch, her feet clinging to the familiarity of the tree and her heart fluttering from shock.

“What just happened?” she shrieked as she goggled at a body not her own.  She sat there, stunned.  She couldn’t believe what was going on and wanted nothing more than to hideaway from the world until she awoke from this wretched nightmare.  With that, she wiggled and wobbled her way down the branch as she had always done, but this time, it wasn’t how it had always felt.

“What’s going on?” she mumbled repeatedly.

“I don’t understand!”

The formerly fuzzy little caterpillar staggered upon the sun-warmed earth.  She looked for somewhere, anywhere, to hide, but everywhere she went, she couldn’t escape from the overawing figure that had overtaken her soul.  She tried to conceal herself in the shadows.  She tried to cover herself with twigs, leaves, and anything else she could find, though the enormous protrusions on her back made it impossible to blend in.

Exposed and utterly confused, she lay there in the open.  Tears of frustration gathered at the bottom of her eyes.  She blinked.  And in the stillness of sunup, down poured a torrent of tears, while her mind raced wildly back and forth between “what happened?” and “why me?”

As she began to run out of tears, she steadied her breathing and began to take notice of the building winds.  They felt soothing to her wet cheeks.

“I don’t know if things are ever going to be the same again, but I’m sure everything is going to be okay,” she half assuredly, half doubtfully told to herself.  “Everything is going to be okay.”

And everything was…for the next minute until there went those blasted protrusions  (the ones she didn’t even ask for!), picking up the wind underneath them!

Up, up, and away she went, far, far and away from everything that she had ever known!  Enervated and seemingly not even breathing anymore, the formerly fuzzy little caterpillar had nothing left.  She couldn’t fight it anymore.  She didn’t want to fight it anymore.  It was over.  She was giving up.  She would forever lie where the wind chose to take her.

And with that doleful resignation, she unclenched every tense, taut, and tight part of her body, mind, and soul and gave it up to the wind—ready to meet her end…

…and as a result,

…for the very first time,

…she began to truly fly.

—–

What I learned over my summer vacation:  The act of flying must first begin with the possibility of falling.

This is the story of a man–a master who went on a long trip.

Fill in the blanks with one of the following nouns as it pertains to Malia’s summer.

The man called together his servants and entrusted his _____  to them while he was gone.  He gave five measures of _____ to one, two measures of _____ to another, and one measure of _____ to the last–dividing it in proportion to their abilities.  He then left on his trip.

The servant who received the five measures of _____ began to invest the _____ and earned five more.  The servant with two measures of _____ also went to work and earned two more.  But the servant who received the one measure of _____ dug a hole in the ground and hid the master’s _____.

After a long time their master returned from his trip and called them to give an account of how they had used his _____.  The servant to whom he had entrusted the five measures of _____ came forward with five more and said, ‘Master, you gave me five measures to invest, and I have earned five more.’

The master was full of praise.  ‘Well done, my good and faithful servant.  You have been faithful in handling this small amount, so now I will give you many more responsibilities.  Let’s celebrate together!’

The servant who had received the two measures of _____ came forward and said, ‘Master, you gave me two measures of _____ to invest, and I have earned two more.’

The master said, ‘Well done, my good and faithful servant.  You have been faithful in handling this small amount, so now I will give you many more responsibilities.  Let’s celebrate together!’

Then the servant with with the one measure of _____ came and said, ‘Master, I was afraid I would lose your money, so I hid it in the earth.  Look here is your money back.’

But the master replied, ‘You wicked and lazy servant!  Why didn’t you deposit my money in the bank?  At least I could have gotten some interest on it.’

Then he ordered, ‘Take the money from this servant, and give it to the one with ten measures of _____.  To those who use well what they are given, even more will be given, and they will have an abundance.  But from those who do nothing, even what little they have will be taken.

Matthew 25: 16-29

Note:  All 3 of the listed nouns actually work.

—–

What I learned over my summer vacation:  Investing entails spending, wisely and purposefully, that is.

“The Crowned One” she was christened, the very name she ran from.  Ignorant of her position & with it the privileges, she settled for crumbs.  Crumbs that didn’t taste too good, and weren’t at all filling, but were good enough and familiar and cost less than a shilling.

“I want to please give you more,” her father, the King, would plead, “I want to give you better than you could ever imagine.  I’m giving you me.  Don’t settle for anything less, my precious child.  I know what is best and will grant you it from my stockpiles.”

“Hmmm, thank you but no thank you.  I’m good with where I’m at now, but I’ll take your tutors and gifts you’ve already given me and get by somehow–somehow that doesn’t involve getting too close to you, for I know when that happens, there are certain things I must do.  All this privilege and power, I didn’t ask for this lot.  I want to be average, anonymous, discreet in the back in the darkest spot.  Don’t make me stand out and step up into the light to lead.  Don’t expect so much of me for I shall fail indeed.”

“My sweet and darling princess, you’ve been made for so much more.  Henceforth, I will continue to break down your walls with my love. It’s you I adore.  You can never change that nor can you ever fail me, though I will not accept less than who I’ve been christened you to be:

A daughter, my daughter, the “Crowned One” whom I take great delight in–You were made to be close to me, learn from me, and represent me well.”

—–

What I learned over my summer vacation: Changing your name does not change the blood that runs inside of you.