Time With Tandy

Inspirational author and speaker

Time With Tandy

Inspirational author and speaker

Tag: nature

  • The Promise

    We were in the final stretch of an eight-hundred kilometre drive. Along the way we had experienced rain in varying degrees along with some wind gusts that had me tighten my grip on the steering wheel.

    My travelling companion and I shared deep, meaningful conversation as well as bursts of laughter.

    We marvelled at the variety of cloud formations, some so unusual we’d never before seen anything like them. She took many photos of the sky as we drove.

    At one point she turned to speak to me and a glimpse of something in my side mirror took her breath away. I did a quick shoulder check and then pulled off to the side of the road. We both got out and stared in awe at the vibrant double rainbow behind my vehicle. I stepped to the centre of the quiet road and was able to see the complete rainbow, both inner and outer, arching from one side of the horizon to the other.

    In the bible, God gave the rainbow as a symbol of his mercy and grace. As I stood in wonder at the sight before me, I thought of the symbolism of the sun breaking through storm clouds and light overcoming darkness.

    My friend and I are both widows and as such have passed through some dark storms where our teardrops fell like rain. God has been faithful in guiding us and giving us hope for the future.

    I took several photos and when I looked at them later saw that my shadow is in them. An outline of my body was captured standing under the centre of the rainbows. The display God allowed us to witness that evening reinforced that I am in encircled by the promise of his love as he daily continues to guide, protect and provide for me. And I know that as he has done for me, he will also do for you. That’s a promise you can rely on.


  • Valentine Beach

    Today is Valentine’s Day. Brian and I only celebrated this in the early days of our marriage. Later, we jokingly referred to it as a day for amateurs. We showed each other our love on a regular basis and didn’t need a day on the calendar to remind us to do so.

    Nevertheless, Brian was definitely on my mind when I awoke.

    A glance outside showed the lowest tide I’d seen so far on this trip. I quickly got dressed and went out onto the beach. The sunshine and slight sea breeze were the perfect start to my day. Tranquility washed over me as I soaked in the sounds of birdcall and water lapping the shore.

    I felt this was not a to be a brisk, stride along the beach day. Instead I meandered (isn’t that an awesome word?). It had been several years since I’d spent time looking for shells and this morning felt like the right time to resume this lost interest.

    Pleasant memories of shell hunting with Brian accompanied me. I chuckled at the thought of having too many shells to carry and Brian using his t-shirt as a carryall! Then I spotted a shell tumbled by the tide enough to be almost translucent. These were not as common and the only ones he had collected. His goal was to turn them into something unique and beautiful for his grandchildren. The perfect project was never found.

    I picked it up, a precious reminder of what we had once shared. Tears sprang to my eyes, making it difficult to focus. I couldn’t seem to move forward so turned back towards home.

    I hadn’t gone far when a glimmer in a pool of shallow water caused me to stop and investigate. I bent closer to see what was floating there. I couldn’t quite tell and had to scoop it out to get a good look. There in my hand, was one of Brian’s favourite shell types – this one in a heart shape.

    In a way that only God can, I had just been presented with a reminder that I am still seen and loved. Shell cradled gently in the palm of my hand, I felt the invisible hug. I returned home, knowing I am blessed – for what I had, what is now, and whatever lies before me.

  • Breaching the Dam

    “Have you seen how fast that beaver dam is growing?”, he said.

    I stopped walking along the path by the creek to look in the direction the man had pointed out.

    When I said I hadn’t noticed the dam before, he told me it had only been there for two weeks.

    “Every day it’s bigger,” he said.

    Water flowing downstream was starting to back up. I wondered how long it would be before it either diverted to and flooded another low lying area, or breached the dam. It couldn’t keep backing up without some sort of release.

    This thought stayed with me as I continued my walk. The analogy to my grief journey was not lost on me.

    People ask me how I’m doing and I paste on a smile and say, “fine.” I hold back my tears.

    I’m driving and something on the radio triggers a memory. I fight back my tears as they aren’t compatible with driving safely.

    I’m talking with a family member and my eyes well up. I do my best not to cry. They are dealing with their own grief and don’t need mine compounding it.

    All the while, my grief is suppressed. I tell myself that tears are a sign of weakness, something I need to apologize for. They make others feel uncomfortable, so I don’t release them. Even the overflows I can’t stop are carefully controlled.

    The pressure builds. The tears will not be denied. Alone in my room, I feel the dam being breached. My carefully structured composure collapses, bringing a flood of waterworks. I give in and let it run its course.

    Afterwards, I realize how much better I feel. The pressure that had been building in me has been released. I discover that tears are not a sign of weakness. They are a language of their own, expressing feelings I have no words for. They are essential to my healing.

  • Tormenta

    storm, hurricaneWhen I first sat down to write this, a hurricane was crossing the Caribbean Sea and heading for Mexico. It was expected to hit the Yucatan state in a few days. There was a chance it would miss the area our friends lived in, but as we know, sometimes storms change direction.

    The same is true in life. Everything was going well for us when, seemingly out of nowhere, a massive life storm hit. A hurricane strength wind picked us up, spun us around and destroyed our carefully planned life.

    We survived the initial onslaught, a little battered but still standing. Then we entered the eye of the storm where the calm lulled us into a false sense of security.

    Too soon, we were back in the fight, buffeted by gusts that threatened to defeat us.

    The Spanish word for storm is tormenta. To my mind, this is apt, as life storms certainly torment us. Their effects can be long lasting.

    Sooner or later the storm will move past. The question remains as to the damage it has done and if we have survived it.

    In my personal case, only one of us survived the storm of a terrible disease. We remained strong for as long as possible and held to each other and our faith.

    Now, I, as the remaining one, am forced to start the rebuilding process. It is the most difficult thing I’ve ever done. It is also necessary in order to honour the wishes of my loved one and fully live and appreciate the days I’ve been given.

    To help me I turn to 2 Corinthians 4:8,9. “We are hard pressed on every side, but not crushed; perplexed but not in despair; persecuted but not abandoned; struck down but not destroyed.”

  • Flipping the Switch

    gratitude, feeling off, fully illuminated
    image courtesy of Unsplash

    Have you ever had one of those days when you just felt “off”?

    That’s how my day started. There was nothing wrong, but I felt lethargic and emotionally low. Maybe it was the overcast, gloomy morning. Whatever was going on, I had to fight back or it would derail my day.

    After a battle with a misaligned zipper on my jacket, which didn’t help my sagging spirits, I stepped out into the cool morning.

    As I walked, I prayed for God to speak to me. My thoughts were surrendered to Him as I awaited peace, or guidance, or focus – something to help me reconcile the apathy enshrouding me.

    A diversion on the pathway caused me to cross a grassy area. Glancing at my feet, I noticed the grass had different colours in it. Did it always change colours like the leaves did? While focusing on the golden and browning leaves carpeting the ground, I had missed what was happening right beneath my feet.

    I stopped to take a picture. A few steps later, I was back on the path beside the creek and paying more attention to my surroundings. The beauty of the grasses along the creek bank compelled me to stop several times to take more photos.

    Further on I admired the incredible workmanship of a beaver dam. I veered off the path and waded through some taller grasses to get a closer look. I almost didn’t take a picture because there was what I considered garbage in front. Then I realized these pieces had been incorporated into the structure. Everything had a purpose. Nothing was wasted.

    As I returned home, my thoughts went to my earlier prayer. “God, I’m so sorry. After asking you to speak to me, I became distracted and didn’t listen for your voice.”

    In my spirit I heard, “My precious child; I spoke to you in a language you could easily understand. You find me in the beauty of nature I’ve surrounded you with. Today you were reminded it is there even when the sun is not shining. You listened well. I observed you express gratitude for things you normally don’t notice. That’s what I wanted for you today. When you get past your preconceived ideas of what you need, you are then able to appreciate what you have. Thank you for opening your heart to receive the blessings and love I have for you – today and every day.”

    I arrived home humbled and in awe. The knowledge I carried in my head had made the journey to my heart. No experience in my life is wasted. Everything serves a purpose.

    My focus had shifted to all the blessings in my life. My off switch had been turned back on and I was fully illuminated.

  • Which Path to Chose?

    choicesSomething as simple as a walk in different surroundings caused me to reflect on the journey of life.

    I left our campsite and headed to the wide, paved walkway I’d taken the previous day. This was a safe, predictable route, and I had confidence in where I was and how to find my way.

    Set on a slight rise, I was able to have a good view of my surroundings. Off to one side I could see streets and houses. On the other was a river which disappeared into a forested area.

    My goal was not a destination, but exercise and enjoyment. Was predictable was enough or did I want more?

    I made a decision and headed for the trees. On the heels of that decision came another. Before me were several paths, leading in different directions. Which one should I choose?

    Since the area was unfamiliar, I chose the one running parallel to the one I’d come from. With the paved walkway in sight, I wouldn’t get disoriented or lost.


    adventure awaitsI thought of a sign I’d seen earlier that said Adventure Awaits. What kind of adventure did I want this morning? Was it one to keep me feeling safe and secure or one to help me experience something new?

    decisions
    More choices of paths presented themselves. I decided to explore the unknown and ventured deeper into the woods.

    My first obstacle came in the form of a large tree, fallen across my path. I could turn back, find a way around it, or climb over. Feeling quite pleased with myself, I chose the latter.decisions

    The next bend caused me to catch my breath in awe. Silvery green leaves glimmered on both sides and in front of me. I couldn’t even see the path ahead until I moved forward. This beauty would have been missed if I’d turned back at the first challenge I faced.

    After a few twists and turns, I came to a steep hill. Could I climb it? Yes, but it would take me back to the main walkway and I hadn’t finished exploring. I turned and headed in the opposite direction.

    Every fork in the path (and they were frequent), caused me to make another decision. So many options were available. I followed my instincts, knowing if it didn’t work out, I could go back and alter my route.

    A clearing ahead led me to a large, flat area beside the river. I took time to savor the vision of trees from the opposite bank, reflected in the calm, crystal clear water.nature My body and mind refreshed; I followed the river until I reached the bank taking me back to the main walkway.

    As I returned to my campsite, I reflected on the times I’ve struggled over which path my life should take. Some have given me the security of familiarity. Others have taken me over more scenic routes. There are also the ones that provided challenges, thrills and excitement. Often, these paths intersected at unexpected places.

    Every path I’ve taken, even the ones I thought were mistakes, have led me to where and who I am today. They all served a purpose. I am aware that in order to keep moving forward, there will be more decisions ahead. It’s my choice to either make safe, predictable ones or explore new possibilities. 

  • Not a Balloon!

    warningWhat looked like translucent blue balloons were scattered here and there along the shoreline. They were almost an oval shape and ranged in size from small to medium.


    I had seen them last year and were told they were jelly fish. They didn’t look dangerous but I had no plans to touch one to find out!

    On my way home from a walk this morning, I encountered two friends who pointed to one and asked if I knew what it was. One bent down, small stick in hand, to get a closer look.

    Suddenly three young Mexican girls came running towards us, yelling, “No! No touch!” They tried to find the English words to make us understand. My limited Spanish came into play and I said, “Peligroso” which means dangerous. The girls nodded and looked quite relieved that we understood.

    My friend thanked them and one little girl smiled and said, “You are welcome.” The girls then ran off in the other directions, happy to know they had kept us safe.

    This concern for strangers is one of the many reasons I love the people in our adopted winter home.

    I did a little research when I got home and discovered that although closely related, these were not jelly fish but Portuguese man o’war. Their long tentacles, which were buried in the sand when we saw them, grow to an average of ten meters and contain barbed tubes that deliver a venom capable of paralyzing and kill small fish and crustaceans. The sting is rarely deadly to people but is extremely painful.

    Once again, I thanked the unknown girls on the beach who ensured we didn’t find out how painful it could be.

  • What Did I Miss?

    observationSomething was missing on my morning walks alongside the creek this year. One day I realized I had only seen a few ducks and none with ducklings. I enjoyed watching numerous fluffy little ones last year and wondered where this year’s babies were. There must be some nearby. Why hadn’t I spotted any?

    In mid-July, I saw a duck family sunning themselves on a large rock in the creek. The ducklings were the same colour as their mother by now, so were well camouflaged, and easy to miss if I wasn’t paying attention. I stopped to watch them and take a few pictures.

    Curiosity caused me to wonder if they’d been there all along, so I made a conscious effort to check that same area over the next few days. Each time, I was rewarded with a view of them either sunning or swimming in the area.

    Why hadn’t I seen them before? It’s not as if my eyes are downcast when I walk.
    After some thought, I realized that my focus had been on the path ahead of me and in my quest for exercise, I hadn’t always taken the time to slow down and look around. I thought I was aware of my surroundings, but obviously this was not the case.

    This brings up more questions that have been in the back of my mind all this time. They won’t go away until I deal with them. What do I miss on a daily basis? And, how many areas of my life does this impact? This is about much more than failing to notice the ducks.

    The little things I miss can add up to big things. Relationships, opportunities, adventures and so much more could be impacted.

    I need to be more aware of the people and things that surround me. In order to live life to the fullest, I must be willing to stop and embrace the unexpected. God has given me a wonderful life for me and I don’t want to miss any of it!

    life lessons
    zooming in on duck family

  • Soar Like a Pelican

    nature, birds, lessons
    photo credit: Caroline McFarland, Unsplash

    Pelicans are not birds I expected to appear graceful. To me, these seabirds seemed ungainly.

    My opinion changed as I watched several soaring over-head. With large wings outstretched, they caught an air current and let it carry them. Far above the water, they circled, dipped slightly and rose high again. All of this was done without much need to flap their wings. They understood the advantage of going with the flow – airflow in this case.

    A flock of small white birds flew much lower and their wings worked hard to keep them aloft. They were using their own strength and not riding the current of air. They landed and took off again frequently.

    More times than I care to admit, I am like the small birds. In order to stay aloft, I flap harder to keep going. My own strength is never enough for what I want to accomplish and the effort exhausts me.

    As I watched, a brown pelican did its spectacular plunge-dive. These birds can be flying as high as ten meters (33 feet) and when they spot their prey, fold back their large wings and plunge to the sea to catch it. The speed with which they do this is amazing.

    I can’t help but think this speed is possible because energy has been conserved when flying. They make efficient use of the resources available to them.

    I want to be like the pelican and allow the wind beneath my wings to help me soar. When I rely on Jesus, he enables me to reach heights I would never achieve on my own. His strength sustains and guides me.

    The choice is mine. Will I flap hard and stay close to the ground or soar like a pelican?

  • Stacking Stones

    nature, stones, pathThe walking path was set above a rocky incline that led to the river below. A chain link fence kept pedestrians safe while still affording a view of the scenic valley.

    I absorbed this tranquil scene on a late summer morning. My gaze was focused on the distance and I almost missed the surprise near the opposite side of the fence.

    My husband asked if I’d noticed them yet and I paused to see what he was talking about. Someone had taken the time to stack numerous piles of stones into various shapes. Some stacks had only a few stones balanced on top of each other. Others were in the shapes of animals or birds.

    The more I looked, the more of these stone sculptures I saw. The vast number of them was incredible. A precise balancing act was required for each. I wondered at the time commitment this project had required. Was this the work of one or many? Was it done for artistic expression or perhaps a deeper meaning was implied?

    In biblical times, stones were stacked in remembrance of the blessings God had provided. Future generations would ask about these stones and be told the story of what God had done for their ancestors. In this way, the memories were passed down and kept alive.

    Today I don’t make physical piles of stones. My life, however, has had many occasions worthy of stones of remembrance. I need to find another way to keep these stories alive so those coming after me will know of The Lord’s blessings.

    While I have breath, I can speak of them. Written words are my preferred form of preserving stories for future generations. Others may choose various forms of artistic expression.

    As one year comes to an end and a new one is on the horizon, I will reflect on the blessings I’ve received. Amid the ups and downs of life, I choose to focus on the positives. Some will reside only in my memory and others will be recorded, reminiscent of stacking stones.

    Our stories are not only an encouragement to those we share them with but also an offering of praise to the Lord. How are you stacking your stones?