Heaven Is A Place On Earth

What’s your idea of heaven? A (boring) eternal lifetime of singing hymns and praise songs? Continual bowing to our Lord and Savior (a good exercise for the abs!)? A literal interpretation of Scripture verses: lions and lambs lying side by side without the slightest bit of salivation on the lion’s part and adrenalin-induced fear from the lamb? Or, streets paved in gold (a la the Emerald City in the Wizard of Oz) and crystal-clear rivers?

I just read an intriguing article in the April 16^th issue of TIME magazine, entitled “Rethinking Heaven” by Jon Meacham. There were a couple of statements in it that I subscribe to:

First, the author asked “What if the authors of the New Testament were actually talking about a bodily resurrection in which God brings together the heavens and the earth in a wholly new, wholly redeemed creation?”

Then, Meacham adds, “It is not paradise in the sky but acts of selflessness and love that bring God’s sacred space and grace to a broken world suffused with tragedy until, in theological terms, the unknown hour when the world we struggle to piece together is made whole again.”

I don’t know about you, but I think this suggests that Jesus’ two commands (Love your neighbor as yourself. and Love God with all your heart, soul and strength.) points to what heaven really is: the place (conceivably, here on earth) where our relationship with Jesus is tightly entwined with how we treat each other.

For many reasons, people view heaven as that final resting place where everything, including themselves, is perfect. No more physical suffering or imperfections. Everyone is rolling in riches and everyone lives a life of leisure.

I’m not sure that “heaven” means there will be an equal distribution of wealth and material goods, sort of like the promises of Communism. Jesus himself said that the poor will always be with us and He also commanded us to feed the hungry, clothe the poor, tend to the sick and visit people in prison. Those of us who reach out and follow that command here on earth today will, undoubtedly, be in the same position in heaven. We, who have been blessed with more, will be expected to give and do more … and that brings us closer to Jesus and the heavenly kingdom He promised. “For whatever you do for the least of these, you do for Me.”

So you can’t quite sing like an angel or play a heavenly harp. You worship Him every time you love your neighbor (next door, under the highway viaduct, in that remote village in a poor country) as you love yourself: with assurances of food to eat, a roof over your head and clothes on your back. I believe that’s true now and in eternity.

From a physical perspective, does heaven mean that we’ll be blemish-free, with the perfect physique and a face of jaw-dropping beauty? Will my body morph into a Barbie-doll, hourglass figure? Will I magically lose all my scars and moles? I think not. I think we will meet Jesus with the bodies we have but the heavenly part is that we won’t care about ourselves and others when it comes to looks. The blemishes that we will lose will be the stains of sin on our souls and that will be heaven on earth, because only then can we meet Him face to face!

* Image courtesy of http://www.picturesofheaven.net/

Just Say No

That’s what my Romanian friend Daniela told me today while we were enjoying frozen daiquiris by the marina pool. I had just finished telling her that since moving here to Jacksonville, Bill and I have done more socializing in the past four months than we did in any four years in Pittsburgh, and part of it was due to her husband’s fondness for impromptu happy hours, pizza parties and potlucks. “Just tell Basil no,” she said, “if you really don’t want to participate. He can be very persuasive!”

I have no intention of passing up a get-together with fellow live-aboards or the transient boaters who are here for a short time! I’ve always loved a party, small or large, planned or impromptu but my introvert husband has, in the past, struggled with non-stop socializing. Boating friends back on H Dock at the Fox Chapel Yacht Club became used to, and understanding of, Bill’s need to slip away from a gathering while I was good for another hour or two. We have a running joke that he’ll do just a certain number of social events each month. So far we’ve calculated that he’s used up his allotment through May!

But seriously, Bill has good naturedly participated in, and even instigated a few of, the many restaurant dinners, marina-sponsored parties, dock get-togethers, cookouts and boat trips that seem to materialize every couple of days. Every once in a while at one of these events someone will look around and ask “Where’s Bill?” and we can usually find him puffing contentedly away on a cigar out on the clubhouse deck or by the pool. Especially on a warm, clear night.

The majority of our friends are boaters from other places, including other countries, and the average stay at the marina is about three to four months, as they winter in Jacksonville before heading home for summers on the Atlantic Seaboard, or south to the Keys, the Bahamas or other islands. So knowing that this may be the only time we have to spend with them serves to increase the frequency of our fun times. It’s also great to trade boating stories and we learn a lot from people who have done this far longer than we have. I have a great respect for sailors; there’s way too much going on with those boats for me to ever be comfortable as a first mate. Daniela and Basil have two cats aboard their 42-foot sailboat. Every morning Squeaky and Lucille are allowed to wander along the dock with Basil and his water pistol close behind to make sure they don’t jump onto other boats…especially the ones with dogs!

So this Thursday Basil has planned a rib cookout and has decided that he and Bill will spend four hours slow-cooking them and smoking cigars by the pool. I’m going to miss that guy when they head back to Toronto next month!

DIYers Never Really Retire

Recently Bill mentioned that after 40 years of home ownership and maintenance he was so ready for this move to our boat. Major improvements to four homes, inside and out, left him a bit weary of non-stop DIY challenges. But, as you know, Bill isn’t one to take a well-deserved rest. He has consistently looked for opportunities to modify our living quarters on Pure Grace. Although most of the improvements have focused around storage, including a clever five-bottle wine rack in the entertainment console, he recently engineered a well-fitting and good-looking solution to our screen-less aft door (below).

Harbormaster, a premiere builder of river yachts, provided a standard screen door for the forward starboard side entrance. But to enjoy fresh air circulating, the odd L-shaped aft cabin door had to be left open. Over the years I’ve battled dirt, dust, pollen and, of course, stink bugs in the cabin but could put up with it for boating weekends in Pittsburgh half a year at a time. Now that we live in an area of the country which has more (and bigger) bugs, I wasn’t looking forward to waging continual war. The addition of our cat, Alfie, was a more compelling reason to find a solution. Alfie’s former owner had his front paws declawed so he would be somewhat defenseless outdoors.

After much pondering and sketching, and a trial run with off-the-shelf screens, Bill worked out a simple two-part screen that can be easily put up and taken down. Although it doesn’t allow for egress from the salon while installed, it’s easy enough to take the external stairs up and down to our aft deck. Velcro straps hold the smaller top screen and larger vertical screen tight to the frame of the open aft door.

Hum With Me: What's It All About, Alfie?

Eight months is long enough! Long enough to be without a furry companion and long enough to get over the ones left behind (well, maybe not…maybe never), and long enough to get a feel for the best fit “boat” pet.

We’ve been deliberating the pros and cons of dog vs. cat for a couple of months. Dog: forces you outside two or three times a day for a walk – good exercise! Forces you outside even if it’s raining – ugh. Dog: can be trained to stay within the confines of the boat – good. Apt to take the occasional swim – not so good.

So, then, cat: doesn’t matter what the weather is, the litterbox fits nicely in the forward shower. The litterbox is in the shower. ‘Nuf said. Cat: unlikely to take the unexpected swim – thank goodness. Not easy to confine inside unless we create barriers – this, fortunately, could be a plus as I’ve been dreading the onset of insect season with wide-open doors. While we do have a standard screen for the forward door, Bill would be forced to engineer something for the very odd-shaped aft door.   

So today we did it. We adopted Alfie. It’s a good thing Bill knows Russian because Alfie's former owner was a young Russian woman who chose boyfriend over furry friend. The only Russian I know is the equivalent of “to your health!” and Nyet (no!). Alfie (formerly named Adolph, then renamed Alford by the rescue shelter) will be two years old in June and is the first orange tabby (including his eyes) that I’ve owned. I’ve been lucky to have a calico, a gray tabby, a tortoiseshell, two white, one black and one tuxedo cat, but never a marmalade.

I had found Alfie online at Lucky Cat Adoption earlier this week, with a note that he would be available at a PetSmart-sponsored cat adoption event today, so we went out to meet Alfie. Two hours and over $200 later we left PetSmart with a cat and all the accoutrements necessary.

He is currently being sequestered for a couple of hours in the forward head to get acquainted with his toilet and to give Bill time to construct the rear screen. More to come on that!

Reason Gone Mad

Althought it may be a tad bit late to be talking about New Year's resolutions, I just want to put it out there that my goal in 2012 is to let my hair down! I want to be less cautious, more quirky. Starting now.

I tried to convince some of my co-workers to don our Groucho glasses as we went through LaGuardia Airport Friday afternoon, but they decided that the TSA probably wouldn't appreciate the humor. However, I did wear them when Bill picked me up at the Jacksonville airport later that night and he does have a good sense of humor, thank goodness!

"Humor is reason gone mad." Groucho Marx

2011 Flashback: Not Again!

Heading home today from my bi-weekly visit to the local library I took a detour through a neighborhood just to familiarize myself with the area. All the streets were named after fairy tale, nursery rhyme or Disney movie characters. There was Cinderella Street, Snow White, Peter Pan, Bambi, Mother Goose, Tom Thumb, Boy Blue, Londonbridge and several others. I thought, how odd to have a “storybook” address.

Then I pondered the “storybook” life that some people seem to have. Everything just falls into place no matter what. Given the rollercoaster ride with my company over the past two decades, some may feel I've enjoyed a happy ending each time. I guess it depends on one's definition of "happy" but I've almost always looked forward to going to work each day no matter the challenges that awaited.

For several months there’s been a lot of turmoil and angst at Communefx, as upper management worked through the details of being acquired by another agency and made in/out decisions about the fates of 80+ co-workers on our campuses in Pittsburgh, Phoenix and Louisville. Many of my co-workers of just a few years, and some of 10, 15 or 20 years, will not be part of the acquisition. The survivors will struggle with equal measures of relief and guilt, but since we all know that things can still turn on a dime, add a heaping dose of continued anxiety to our states of mind too.

For the past several weeks I’ve slept fitfully, tossed and turned, struggled with 2 a.m. panic attacks and then tried to remain upbeat and positive during the day. Finally, after landing in Pittsburgh on Tuesday night and checking in to the hotel, I gave it up. I lay in bed and asked God not that I would keep my job but to give me the courage to be gracious in the face of loss. I asked for re-assurance that He is in control no matter what happens.

At a company meeting in Pittsburgh on Wednesday the new organization chart was revealed. I’ve made the cut. Then, it was on to another flight the next day to meet my new bosses and co-workers in Norwalk, CT. As I sat in their company meeting I had a déjà vu flashback to a year ago. This same week in 2011, I was in Louisville, KY, again sitting in another company’s meeting witnessing the deconstruction of that company in order to acquire part of it. This week it was Communefx being deconstructed for acquisition.

There’s still a lot to be worked out, new personalities to get to know, a different corporate culture to assimilate. But the constant that remains is the One I can turn to, giving thanks in all circumstances.

Just Call Me Gilligan

Not having been much of a boater growing up, and not being a very strong swimmer either, I was pretty nervous when Bill and I decided to get into boating in 2006. After all, the only “port” I was familiar with was of the alcoholic variety, and “stern” is what my husband looks like when he lifts one eyebrow! But gradually, with a lot of help from veteran boaters, I conquered my fear and the Allegheny River.

Oh, little did I know what was ahead! The Allegheny River, while swift, is about a quarter mile in width and only gets whitecaps when there’s a strong northwest wind. Marker buoys were plentiful and even night cruising was pretty simple. The most challenging thing we ever had to do was dock the Pure Grace in a hard wind against a strong current. That, as Bill says, is what bow and stern thrusters are for!

Contrast that with the three-mile-wide St. John’s River (which flows north, by the way!) where one is a true fool for boating without understanding how to read a chart or use a chart plotter (GPS for the river).  Having been loaned a Garmin chart plotter and armed with a comprehensive river map, we decided to spend New Year’s Day cruising south to visit new friends. The day dawned bright and then the fog rolled in. After delaying our departure by a couple of hours the fog had lifted and we set out. Fifteen minutes and a couple miles later we were stuck in the middle of pea soup! Thank goodness there were very few other boaters on the river but we did have to dodge the crab and eel pots. After feeling our way around in the fog for over an hour, it lifted enough so that we could pick up the speed and continue on our way. I don’t know if I was soaking wet from nervous sweat or the moisture in the air!

By two o’clock we were pulling up in Florence Cove, where our hosts Rex and Jimmie Patton were ready to take us to lunch at the Outback Crabshack, which catches it own crabs for the menu. For decades the Crabshack was a favorite boater’s hangout, casual with great seafood, but the economic downturn and rising fuel prices has really hurt their business. After lunch, Jimmie showed us her covey of peacocks and peahens, feeding them with cat kibble, and Rex gave us some pointers about avoiding crab pots. Steer to the side of the marker with the knot! That means the pot line (usually a chain) is slanting out on the opposite side of the buoy. Definitely not something to get tangled in the props!

We wanted to get back to the marina tonight because the weather tomorrow is supposed to be much cooler with high winds so we declined our friends’ offer to spend the night at their dock and pushed off late afternoon. I was able to get some beautiful shots of the sunset before we lost our light and the final hour of our cruise gave us some night practice. Although it was a bit hairy trying to locate and miss the crab pots in the dark, Bill made a perfect "landing" in Slip B49 and I added six engine hours eight minutes to the log!