Sanitary

We're staying in a house surrounded by dirt.  My kids have been bathing almost every day because when they walk through the door they're a few shades darker than when they walked out the door...and it's not from the sun.  You can see their eye holes in the original color.

It seems, no matter what they, or we, do we come back dirty and itching, too.  The first day we arrived, we woke up eager to explore the mountainside.  We boldly headed down the trail in our shorts and flip flops and ended (30 minutes later?) with two crying kids.  One had stepped in poop and couldn't bear to continue the explorations and the other had discovered that all the leaves are spiky and that there are many, many burrs here.  Neither of them wanted to explore again.  Ever!  The other two were still game to leave the house in future days, but they were not thrilled about everything having spikes and burrs on it.

I'm proud to report, however, that just a few days later, we have all continued to walk out the door and the one who had given up all exploring for ALL time is the one who discovered the tarantula on our walk tonight and was excited about it.  The difference is we know what we're facing and are better prepared for it.

Also, a couple days ago, the kids made an important discovery.  There's a hill, actually, the whole thing is hill-so the part of the hill right next to the house turns out to be the perfect place to geronimo down on the two year old's tiny pink tricycle.  The two year old hasn't done it, but the 4, 6 and 8 year old have been wild about it (we did let the 2 year old give it a small go on the barely-bottom part of a hill and she rapidly let go of the handlebars and crashed...not a problem keeping her off the behemoth now...).  Only one kid has crashed and cried, but only minor injuries incurred.  Anyway, the proper way down this hill is to drag your feet along the whole dusty way (and we're talking 250 meters here?) so you can maintain control and not careen into the tall brown, burry grass on the sides of the pathway.  They haven't all managed it every time.  Little pink tricycle is most definitely seeing more action then ever in her short life.  At any rate, they come back dirty.  But it's AWESOME!

My kids are urbanites.  Have I mentioned that?  They are.  When we started driving in the hills and there were no more houses in sight, the two year old started fearfully wimpering in her carseat.  She calmed a little when I held her hand.  When we walk through the woods, it's scary for one or the other of them at some point in the walk.  When they see more than their accustomed 5 stars, they are in awe.  They are surprised at dirt roads and hills without guardrails.  They are used to seeing dogs on leashes or behind fences.  Any sort of loose animal spotted anywhere is scream-worthy.  Muddy hands must be immediately washed because they're...muddy.  I never dreamed I would be raising urbanites, but here we are.

At home, we have dirt, but it's boxed in and manicured for the most part.  The kids can't mess with the plants and bushes too much or the neighbors become upset (HOA...ugh).  If there is a loose cat, it will discreetly disappear one day to the animal shelter lest it leave a mess in our allotted dirt.  We can't be too loud or fast or leave a mess so we don't disturb our neighbors.  It's just the way it has to be in close communities like ours.  Mostly, people don't want mess.  They want peace and quiet and beauty.  I get it.  But is that the way to peace of heart and mind?

I notice this in more than my little community, however.  It's all the rage to look and be perfect.  If you have problems, go to the proper place and deal with it.  If you have mess, shut it behind your doors and don't talk about it.  If your face or body doesn't look right, fix it.  The last thing you should do is engage with people!  Don't smile at them on the street or dump your emotional dirt if you don't know them well enough or they don't want to hear it.  Keep it clean.  Act your role.  Do your part.

But what if?  What if we walked out our doors prepared for the dirt and the spikes?  What if we stopped worrying about what we want and don't want, what we can and can't do, and started looking at and listening more to the people around us and what they need?  What if we stopped paying so much attention to our screens and diverted our eyes and hearts and ears to people right next to us?  What if we didn't cry when we stepped in life's poop and came home with spikes and splinters and burrs?  Or, if the tears came, what if they were for the pain of others rather then our own? What if we expected the dirt and rashes?  What if we looked for them instead of walked right by and around?

What I'm asking is this:  Why do we try so hard to cover up our mess?  Why do we pretend?  Why are we too busy to listen?  Why do we never have time?  Are our hours so well spent that we don't have time to stop and be real with ourselves and each other?  Why can't we live with the dirt?  It's not going away.

How about this?  How about we all jump on our little pink tricycles and careen down the dirty, scary way?  We might get hurt.  It might make us cry.  Our shoes will definitely not last as long.  But, I promise you, it will be AWESOME!

I mean, dirt.  It's where we came from, isn't it?  We can dress it up, and ourselves, all we want, but it's still there.  We can manicure our parks and plant trees perfectly aligned, but underneath it's still dirt.  I get lost in the pavement of the city.  I miss the simplicity and brown bareness of the earth.  And so, here, away, I am excited when it's just God's beautifully landscaped world around me.  Just the dirty dirt.  And it's okay that it's not perfect looking.  It just is.









P.S. (In case you didn't gather it on your own, your little pink tricycle is the Bible, God's word.)