Wonderful!

Michael and I do this thing that I like to call “mini date”.

Everyone knows how hard it is to get a date when you have kids; it is a well-documented and much-lamented phenomenon. We are no exception particularly because we have so very many children and each child feels like a lot more children than just one because of the nature of their being. There are a handful of people both willing and able to watch our rodent army for a few hours, but opportunities don’t arise too often where we both have the means and the motivation to go out. With this in mind, I have instituted Mini Date.

For five to ten minutes, Michael and I will sit in the car together, sharing a hot pretzel or a soda, and listening to the podcast “Wonderful!”.

If you have not heard of this podcast, it is on Maximum Fun (www.maximumfun.org)--the co-hosts are Rachel and Griffin McElroy, a married couple that talk about things that they love. It is about positivity and it is contagiously joyful and it helps perk you up in the middle of a dreary or frustrating day.

On that format, I was going to talk about a few of the things that I like and that make me happy because it is Monday and Monday is the day that I write. It might not be as interesting to you as it is to me, but hopefully it brings a little bit of positivity to your day, too!

First up: Sun Bears!

My favorite animal are bears--traditionally I like black bears because they are curious and super good, but I go through cycles. Currently in the top spot is a species from Southeast Asia that is one of the smallest bears, only about the size of your average Emerald. Malaysian sun bears, also known as honey bears because they use their strong claws to tear open trees and hives and their extra-long tongues to reach the honey.

Those ridiculous tongues--which range from 7 to 10 inches long--are why they are my current favorite because every picture of them is absolutely, endearingly ridiculous. When they have babies, the mother and father bears may actually live together and co-raise their cubs, which I think is pretty cute.

In general, they are kinda neat, underknown and underappreciated dorks.

The next thing I wanted to talk about was…

Microglia!

Also known as glia or glial cells, neuroglia are support cells that provide protection for neurons. They are my favorite part of the human body, specifically astrocytes (star-shaped cells that, among other functions, provide nutrients to the neurons) and microglia, who are friend-shaped.

The immune system has no business messing around up in the central nervous system, but the brain and spinal cord still need be protected. This is where all the Neuroglia come into effect. Glia actually means “glue”, so neuroglia means “brain glue”. Microglia then means “little glue” which makes no sense, but it is the runtiest of the four types of glial cells. They only make up about 10-15% of all cells found within the brain.

In resting state, they have a little fried-egg shaped body with tendrils going out in all directions, which it uses to monitor the interstitial fluid for signs of trouble. If it senses any inflammation, it sucks in all its tendrils, puffs up (presumably the cellular equivalent of hiking up your britches) and floats around looking for trouble-makers. It could be bacteria or a damaged cell or foreign cells, anything that could be a potential threat.

When it locates the source of trouble, it secrets cytotoxic factors that will reduce the issue to debris, then devours the bits like a deranged and murderous roomba. It has a function called antigen presentation, which is like if your roomba decorated the outside of himself with cheerios and dust bunnies so everyone could see what he had eaten today. Here is a really neat video on the subject if you are interested and want to know more:

https://www.khanacademy.org/science/health-and-medicine/nervous-system-and-sensory-infor/neural-cells-and-neurotransmitters/v/microglia

I just like the idea of this little cell perpetually ready to square up, I guess, but I also think of him as a neat mini shepherd that takes care of his neuron sheep, or miniscule scavenger boys. Their function is not nearly appreciated enough.

I am only going to write about three things today; if this ends up becoming something people enjoy, I may do a semi-regular thing. On to my third thing which is…

Carnations!

When I was in high school, the student council sold carnations as a fundraiser for Valentine’s Day. They were $1 each and different colors meant different things like secret admirer or friend or crush. On Valentine’s Day, class would be interrupted as they delivered individually wrapped flowers. I just loved the way it made the school smell, that delicate and romantic clove-like perfume, and I loved the surprise and joy people had when they realized someone had sent one just for them.

That memory from high school is one of the reasons these are my favorite flowers. Another is I love how they are both beautiful and practical--you can get a dozen for $5 and if you take good care of them, they can last for two to three weeks in the vase.

The name “carnation” could refer to flower garlands, or to” incarnation”, God made flesh. It’s scientific name dianthus means “flower of the gods”. It is one of the oldest cultivated flowers, storied in Christian tradition to have first bloomed where Mary’s tears fell on the road as she watched Jesus carried the cross. This is how they, particularly pink and peach in hue, because associated with motherly love.

Those are my three happyment enducers today; I am thankful that God made long-tongued sun bears, feisty and protective microglia, and delicately durable carnations.

There are so very many wonderful things in the world for us to delight in. I hope your week is full of all such things, and that you get a moment to revel in those good vibes.

—Andie

The Way I See You

“People think pleasing God is all God care about. But any fool living in the world can see it always trying to please us back.”― Alice Walker, The Color Purple

My Benjifriend is down sick today, so I had to stay home with him and miss out on church. As Michael can tell you, I took this news rather...immaturely because I didn’t want to miss service. I like going to church. It is a happy place for me, full of good things and good people. People that do not want to have themselves or their families exposed to my wee babby’s biological warfare. So, I will sequester myself this Sunday feeding him the medicines of my youth--7-up, reruns of Price is Right, and saltines--and bring him back when he is safe to be around other people, and I will use this quiet opportunity to listen to my Ludovico Einaudi and write in peace. (If you want to hear it as I wrote it, listen to "I Giorni"--https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Uffjii1hXzU.)

I am an optimist by nature. I want and choose to see the beauty and goodness in the world; it feeds the hope that lives inside me, the whisper that says, “Wait. The best is yet to come.”

When I was younger and my faith was the sum total of all my parts (a place that has slipped through my fingers to make room for life; a place I have been trying to get back to), my heart’s desire was to see as He sees, to view the world not through the distorted vision of opinion but in truth and reality because it was as He made it. As many that have gone before me, I found the most pure, tangible connection through nature. I lay in the grass, feeling the heat the sun had lent the ground seep into my cold body. I imagined it was healing me, dragging doubts and fears and darkness down and dispersing it far below where I didn’t have to feel it anymore. At just the right time, when my skin was glowing golden from the warmth of the day, a breeze would stir and carry me away, away with the leaves and the caterpillars on their silken strings and the motes of dust that made the air sparkle like glitter.

God intended so much more than this for us. We know that; we can feel it, read it, experience the separation that sin caused. It is easy to forget that He meant more for nature, too.

He made this world to walk in with us. He made it and named it good because it pleased Him. It was a paradise He wanted to share. I can envision how eagerly He would anticipate the delight on our face when we saw for the first time the snow falling on the mountains, a hummingbird sipping from honeysuckle, the ocean washing up on the shore. In His garden, I could have bear friends named Otso and Mischa that I could hug and feed sweet potatoes and nap with in the sun.

I would have really liked that.

The Bible says that Adam and Eve disobeyed and ate the fruit, setting off the chain of events that has somehow arrived in a place where Andie does not get her potato-eating pet bears in the sun. Lady days suck and we have to toil and work and things are hard and they suck and what could there possibly be to be hopeful for?

To me, salvation is a not a story that is finished yet. Our brains hate things unfinished, which is why it wakes you up in the middle of the night repeating “This is the Song that Doesn’t End” because why doesn’t it end?! Brain likes to be able to close the box and say, “this is complete”--this story is done, the task is finished, the song is over. It bothers us endlessly to leave things open because it is still waiting, waiting to be attended to. It would be so much more comfortable for us if the Bible was self-contained, starting with “in the beginning…” and ended with “Amen”. Close the book and put it on the shelf; it is done. It relieves us of the burden of becoming.

It is so exhausting to be unfinished.

If that was all there was, the stories related to us of God working in the men and women of the Old Testament to culminate in the birth, life, and death of Jesus Christ, everything since is just an reverberation of that defining moment. We are living in the aftershocks of God’s dramatic crescendo, and thus relieved of being or becoming anything more than what we are. Why bother; Jesus said himself, “it is finished” (John 19:30). Show’s over, time to go home. Everything since is inconsequential, our lives and our actions amount to nothing, and nothing matters.

Nature shows us that it’s not over. He still cares; He’s still trying—He is still making something out of nothing, propelling us toward something more. The story didn’t end at the cross, but started there and continues on through today and into infinite tomorrows. If Jesus was sent to bring us back, then we still matter enough to try for.

So many of our opinions of ourselves can be so brutal. How is it so instinctual to tear ourselves down? When the voice in our head is dogged and determinedly repeating how we are not good enough, not strong enough, not smart enough, not brave enough. We just aren’t enough.

The part born inside is there to remind us that we weren’t meant to walk alone. God always meant to be right there beside us. He meant friends and family to love and surround us, to encourage and support one another. Our souls remember and remind us—

We weren’t meant to walk alone.

How joyous it is that partnership! How wonderful it is that He has never left us, will never leave us! I have taken great comfort in that.

As my relationship with God grew, it stretched to encompass humanity in my desire to see as He sees. We are separate and apart from creation, made special by His design, but we are also part of it. We are exhibits of His glory, too. It is difficult to see His face reflected in the actions of man, but I had to remember—in the Bible, we saw God’s chosen people turn away again and again. It was in the individual stories where we saw the most change, God working directly on hearts to better the situation for the group. It was through David, through Rahab, through Moses and Elijah and Deborah and Esther, that God led and delivered His people, and it is through those stories that we see His intent for our lives.

God loves us so much it hurts. I truly believe that. He’s so proud of us. I feel like if He had a wallet, He’d have our picture in it and show it to everybody at the grocery store. “See that Andie? She’s got FOUR kids now, can you believe it?” He isn’t sitting up there grouching about how little we visit or fuming that we messed up again. He’s hoping I got the sunshine He sent today, that it made me think of Him and brought a little smile to my face because He loves my smile.

God’s reality is that He made all of these people and He loves them, so He wants us to love them, too. I mean, He may have mentioned once or twice. That attitude  is what I strive hard for every day.

It’s hard though. Sometimes my emotional, opinionated side flares up and clouds my view of a person, leading to arguments with the Voice in my head I call God that go like this:

I don’t like them.

I made them.

Well, you did a bad job. I hate them.

I love them.

...okay, fine. I don’t hate them. But they need to be smacked.

About as much as you need to be smacked?

….that was uncalled for -generic grumbling-

Since first joining social media, I have wanted to make a post encouraging us all to share our genuine opinions of one another. In the idealized, romanticized version in my head, it would a platform for people to share how much they admired other people, how they wanted to know them better or had little crushes on them; fun things that show you how others viewed you.

My hesitancy was born in that more realistic voice in the back of my head, the one that has seen all the “Roast Me” posts on Reddit.

Do not ask for honesty if you are not ready and willing to hear the ugly, untarnished truth. My hope would be that people recognize that we all have so many negative thoughts about ourselves that we don’t need anyone to add to that. As I cannot control the direction the post will take (likely it will die on arrival; most posts that require interaction are bypassed all together), let’s not take any unnecessary chances, shall we? All I have power over is my own opinions.

Through this screen that I have carefully constructed, using what I believe of God based on my personal relationship with Him, I see you.

To me, you are the most interesting person. I love to hear stories an out your life, your family, what you wanted to be when you grew up and what your favorite things are and why you think and feel the way you do. I want to see who you are, the things that drive you, inspire you. I could listen to you all day.

I’ve seen you struggle, and my heart ached for you—I see how hard you are trying. I’m so impressed with the strength and dignity you have displayed, handling what life has thrown at you. You are so tough, so strong, so brave. I don’t have to worry about you because I know that you can overcome any obstacle, but I am going to be here to help you in any way that I can because we are stronger together.

I have prayed for you, through sickness and hard times, but in the good times, too. I pray that you feel safe and loved and happy, that you see God working in your life and it brings a smile to your face. I pray that you have everything you need, and some things you want as well. My heart is so filled with hope for you, because I know:

The best is yet to come.

—Andie

Of Bears and Birthdays

I don’t know why I like the things I like, I know I just do.

If I dug down deep, I could probably come up with some justification. I’m pretty decent at making stuff up, so I could spin some tale or give some pretty reasoning, explain away why my favorite color is gold, why I love carnations, or why I never get tired of “Iris” by Goo Goo Dolls or the movie Big Fish. The truth is usually just “it makes my brain happy”.

A while back, I read that the reasons you like your favorite animal are what attracted you to your spouse. So, clever me decides to be sneaky and ask Michael all casual like what his favorite animal is and why.

He considered, then picked the great gray owl.

Because, he says,

1. They have these teeny bodies under a ridiculous amount of floof.
2. They screech to demand attention.
3. And everyone thinks they are wise, but they’re secretly big idiots.

He had no idea why I smacked him and stormed to bed.

My favorite animal is a bear. The breed varies from day to day; some days I like the huge laziness of the ussuri bears, others the playful antics of the panda. Today I am partial to the sun bear of southeast Asia.  

I don’t know why I like bears any more than I know why I cry at every church song that references the “fountain”. I just do. Even the reasons I can think of--fat, furry, and lazy--can be attributed to countless other species. When I think about them, my brain is happy.

Michael, of course, knows this. So for the last several months, he has been plotting and planning.

Today is my 30th birthday, you see. 2017 is kind of a big year for me all around--first I had TJ, then I turned the big 3-0. In November, Michael and I celebrate our 10th anniversary. It is a year of exciting things.

Michael wanted to take me to see bears.

There were a lot of ways he could accomplish this--we could plan a trip to a national park like Yellowstone, or to bear sanctuaries. There is a bear habitat in Waco.

Tula was...not precisely on the agenda, and her much celebrated birth complicated matters slightly. I cannot travel far from her for a while, and cannot leave her for long.

His hands thus restrained, he started researching options closer to home.

The Abilene Zoo (for a reasonable price) offers VIP tours for certain animals. Most commonly requested are the camels and rhinos, the giraffes, and the reptiles; they said they had never had a bear request before.

Michael set everything up, got my mother to watch the boys and the baby, and this afternoon we
went to meet the bear.

The bear-taker (heh) met us at the gift shop and took us back to the commissary to prepare a snack for the their only bear, an American black named Teddy. While we walked, she told us his story--he is 25, which is old for a bear. They usually only live to be 30 in captivity, 10 in the wild. Teddy came to them seventeen years ago with one other bear, BooBoo, after being donated by a private owner. BooBoo choked to death on a bone, and two females were donated. They passed on as well and they got Boris from an SPCA raid near the Houston area. He lived with Teddy until he died of congestive heart failure. Teddy is alone now, which doesn’t seem to bother him. Bears are solitary in the wild.

Before we got to the commissary, we passed by the hospital and holding areas, as well as the animals she said were part of the “educational department”. Besides bears, I am also partial to cats and to donkeys. I love the way donkeys yell to get attention. Imagine my delight when I heard a donkey hollering at us! His name was Donkey, but I called him Professor Donkey because he was educational. There was a sign hanging beside him that said “I have developed bad habits; please do not feed me no matter how much I beg.” He liked getting scritches on his scruffy donkey head and apparently has a rivalry with the goats.

Teddy eats omnivore pellets that kind of look like dog food, plus fresh fruits and veggies and fish. They scatter it over his enclosure so that he will have to forage for it, make him move around a bit so he doesn’t get too chunky and lazy. We prepared little silver fish for him, plus grapes and an ear of corn. She said he doesn’t like bananas or kale.

We went around to the bear enclosure to see if he would come around and see us. The best thing I learned was that he has a hammock he likes to sleep in (pictured above). During the winter, they lay hay out for him and cover his hammock in hay, and he scrapes it together into a pile to make a pallet. I asked if he needs to hibernate, and she said that he doesn’t because it doesn’t get cold enough here for him to need to. He just eats a ton more in the fall to prepare, and then his appetite drops back down when winter hits.

They weigh him once a month to make sure he isn’t getting too heavy; right now, he is just over 400 pounds. He is generally in good health, but has arthritis due to his age, so he has to be on a couple medications--he gets to take them in meatballs. On Thursdays, he gets a whole fish. She told us they also have him trained so they can brush his hair because he’s so fuzzy he gets mats in his fur.

Finally, it was time to meet the man of the hour!

He was sleeping in his cave when we came around, which I can hardly blame him for--it was 90 degrees and 2 in the afternoon; where better place for an old man to be than napping?

We threw corn and grapes at him, watching his breath get faster because he heard us and smelled the food. After a few minutes, he grudgingly rolled over and came out to see what we wanted.

He was very pleased with the snack we brought for him. The guide said that he is a little hard of hearing and doesn’t always hear them when they try to wake him up, so sometimes they have to stand on top of his enclosure and call him to get him up.

He’s a short and stocky thing, which I like--it is endearing. While tossing grapes, I accidentally bonked him right on the head. He looked like he was just a happy, easy going guy; she told me he is a real sweetheart.

It was such a great birthday surprise. Michael was amazing for doing all this work and putting it together for me just so I could meet a bear. I had an awesome time, a perfect way to celebrate three decades of Andie

:)