School was out, and summer vacation was underway. A vivid memory sits in my mind. I had stopped by The Sugar Shack to pick up some bread, arguably the best bakery in all of the central Oregon coast, if not the world. While waiting to pay for it someone asked if I had plans for the summer. I responded that my goal for the summer was to not cause bodily harm to my children and to return them safely to school in the fall. At that moment, that time, I was serious.
While exaggerated and certainly not the kindest of comments, there was an element of truth to it. I was not the most patient mother in the world, and summer always brought with it its own set of complications, beginning and ending with several little girls.
For whatever reason, my home was the gathering place for the children in the neighborhood. Throughout the summer, there were usually at least five little girls, including my own two, playing in the yard, the woods, the house. When cousins and additional friends came there were more. At times it wasn't too dissimilar from what is taking place between Israel and the Palestinians. All it took was for one little girl, just one, to lob a verbal rocket into the group, and the peace was over. You get my drift.
Summer camps weren't an option then--Scholfield Road in the country was like a camp. Some wonderful memories were created and once-in-a-lifetime adventures took place, but my limited skills as camp counselor and peace-maker often pushed me to the max, hence the truth of my comment.
The bank of jasmine took a hard hit last winter and had a lot of dieback. The task of pruning the dead wood out yesterday was monotonous and tedious but a wonderful time for contemplative, meditative thought. I found myself thinking about a personal goal of mine and goals in general.
Each of us has them--goals, that is. I have no idea what yours are, but neither do you know mine. We have our own pair of walking shoes and our own individual path and walk it we must, and we do. There are no right goals, there are no wrong goals. Our aspirations and what we hope to achieve are individual, personal. I have been told of one who wants to amass a specific dollar amount in this lifetime; another expressed the goal of being a better person and father; yet another wants to retire in another area of the country; organizing and taking control of one's environment and financial situation is yet another.
As for me, my goal is to stand before my Creator at the end of this physical life and have Him look me squarely in the eyes and state, "I do not regret having created you." "Regret?" you ask. "Surely God has no regrets." As a gentle, yet stark reminder, the destruction of mankind by water during Noah's time was the result of His regret.
Some may say my goal is lofty, pious, with an overlay of spiritual superiority. It carries with it none of those things. This is where my mind and my heart is, and I have, quite simply, opened that up and shared it with you.
A great irony is that I am not a goal-oriented person. I do not set goals with an intent and a follow-through to reach them. My experience over time has been it doesn't take make much for me to be side-tracked. But then, that might be just me. A goal? Maybe not so much a goal, but a heart-felt desire, one I hope is fulfilled.
"The Lord saw how great the wickedness of humankind had become and that every inclination of the thoughts of the human heart were only evil all the time. He regretted that he had made human beings on the earth, and His heart was deeply troubled. But Noah found favor in the eyes of the Lord."
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