Thursday, August 14, 2014

Just West of the Nipple

My family just returned from a road trip and I am blessed to say, we all survived. We came home with as many as we left with, limbs large and small in tact. There were a few “incidents.” (I’m making quote fingers there.) We got rear ended (we weren’t injured by the grace of God), my daughter got a cold sore and my son was pecked on the chest by a chicken. Where on the chest you ask? In his words, “just west of the nipple.” It’s become a household motto, “just west of the nipple,” not only to tell where a thing is but describe when something kinda misses the mark. 
“Hey, where’s the toothpaste?”
“Just west of the nipple.”
“Ugh. These gluten free rolls are a little west of the nipple.”

 My daughter’s cold sore plagued my husband and I mentally through the trip. Neither of us have ever had one so we were kind of stumped as to how to deal with it. We put medicine on it and stressed about it needlessly, much to the delight of my daughter. Every time she caught us looking at it, she made her lip pulsate with her tongue and mimicked the sound of a heart beat.  

Anywho, we went to New Braunfels, Texas and visited Natural Bridge Caverns. I’ll leave those details for a little later on ‘cause that’s when I’ll get all reflective and thoughtful and stuff. We also visited a snake farm. Actually, Snake Farm. No frivolous catchy names for them. It was the one featured on Dirty Jobs, a show we all love. 
 

There were snakes of every nature, as the name of the place would suggest. But, they were in these tiny enclosures. Seriously, if you slid open the glass I think they would’ve popped out like those snakes-in-a-can joke things. I’m not sure how much room snakes actually need. Heaven knows the ones we saw weren’t doing anything but laying around being snakey. Except one. This one corn snake was doing its darnedest to get out of there. He looked like the shoppers outside Best Buy the day after Thanksgiving: weaving back and forth, tapping on the glass, a dazed look in his eyes.

We also saw newly hatched turtles, which have belly buttons by the way. How precious is that? There was also a little zoo there with all sorts of mammals and I tell ya, there was none of this namby pamby security glass. Oh no. Nuh uh. Not Texas, not at Snake Farm. It was just a chest high chain link fence, a secondary tall chain link fence about a yard away and from there it was all blood thirsty animals. Mountain lions, alligators, fanged macaques, wolves, tigers, buffaloes, wart hogs (whose testicles needed their own chain link fence) and a dog. I don’t know what that was about. It was just a dog, with a tag and collar. It belonged to somebody. It wasn’t some rogue, wild Texas beast. I don’t know how many shoes a dog has to chew up to be shamed a double fence at a zoo.  

There were also less deadly beasts i.e. prairie dogs, beavers, a porcupine, goats, pigs and chickens such as the one that pecked my son just west of his nipple. In the chicken’s defense, my son was trying to pick up its baby. All and all, it wasn’t a bad place although, again, I was disturbed at the small habitats of every creature. Except the dog. He must have really done something.

The Snake Farm visit was really secondary, an after thought. Natural Bridge Caverns is why we went and it was nothing short of amazing. I can’t begin to describe it. Well, yeah I can. It looks like the world around you is melting, like stone has turned to frosting. It was mind boggling. I found myself looking up all along, wondering if we were under the gift shop and if the people meandering about had any idea what was below their feet. Even if they saw pictures, I knew they would be surprised by what they saw. Some things just don’t translate on film. I also figured they’d be a bit taken aback by how warm it was down in there. Most caverns are chilly and as such I had every member of my family carry a jacket - which every one complained about. But, again, this is Texas. Ain’t nothing normal.

After touring the cavern we went sluicing. That’s where you pan for stuff in water. I bought a big ole’ bag of mud thinking that’s about what we’d sluice out: mud, which I was ok with. But, we got all kinds of stones. Even a few emeralds. We also got to see somebody crack a geode before we left. (We’re total gem/rock nerds if you haven’t guessed.) A geode looks like a hunk of cement. But, crack it open and there’s all these amazing crystal formations. It’s like a geological Easter egg.

In all four of those instances, Snake Farm, the cavern, sluicing, the geode, the looks were deceiving. (Well, not Snake Farm. I mean, the name kind of says it but I had no idea the other animals would be there. Especially the dog.) I misjudged every single one. That’s what we do as humans and it’s natural to make a snap judgement on appearance. It kept our ancestors alive, keeps us alive. (I know it’s kept me from eating tons of stuff and kissing more than one date!) 

But, there’s a difference in making a judgement call and passing judgement. It’s the latter that gets us. Most of the time I think our assumptions are not quite on target, just west of the nipple, so to speak. And based on that, we form a complete storyline in our head that is only true in our head. We need to give things and folks a chance to dazzle us and just as important, we need to be willing to be dazzled. We need to be willing to crack a geode and expect amazing things because sometimes a hunk of rock holds treasure.

On that same token, not all that glitters is gold. Not everything that looks wonderful is. Sometimes the person making everyone laugh is crying out inside. Sometimes the person in the Mercedes is flat broke. And, sometimes, a cage labeled wombat houses a very forlorn dog. You just don’t know because in truth, you only know the things you seek to understand and you can only see what you make an effort to look for. And, even in those cases, more likely than not, we will only know in part. In truth, our assumptions say more about us than the thing about which we are making a deduction. 

Make wise decisions, but don’t declare judgement. Give people, caverns, bags of mud, hunks of rock and side-of-the-road zoos a chance. After all, Jesus sure gave us one long before we even had a chance to make total boobs of ourselves. We’re fallible and completely west of the nipple. But, He loves us anyway, gives us the benefit of the doubt and although He is the only one who can truly judge us, He offers grace rather than judgement. He loves us and forgives us for chewing up shoes rather than throwing us behind a double chain link fence. And, He’s even merciful enough to free us when we imprison ourselves.

The good Lord knows all, nothing is hidden from His sight.  Hebrews 4:13 (I’m looking at you, Snake Farm dog.)