Rubik’s Cube

Is life like a Rubik’s Cube?

August 15, 2020

Rubik’s Cube

Jillian’s friend gave her a Rubik’s Cube to solve. After a full day off and on of spending probably two or three hours attempting it, Jillian gave it to Jaquline and said, “this puzzle is too complicated!”

Jaquline has been trying her hand at it since. She’s one of those kids who stick to the problem until it gets solved so I’m sure eventually she will figure it out. On the way to work this morning Christina and I hear, “oh really!” and a wail.

“What?” we both ask.

“I was sooooo close!” and she passes the cube to Christina in the front seat with one side one square from being all one color. Christina, who has solved a few Rubik’s Cubes in her time, suggests, “start with the corners and try to match the colors two blocks at a time.”

Another wail a few seconds later and the furious almost silent swish, tap, tap, swish of the plastic blocks being moved around. Another wail. Swish, tap, tap, tap… “Yes!” Tap, tap, swish, swish. Dramatic groan, “this is too complicated.”

Encouragement from the front seat, “you can get it,” and “keep trying!”

“Roll On” by Alabama comes through my head.

Life sometimes seems like a Rubik’s Cube.

You get everything lined up the way you think it should be and turn the corner to discover… bam! It isn’t lined up! Fix that problem and solve that issue, turn another corner and nothing looks in order. Changes happen. I think of watching a younger friend when I was younger. He could solve the cube in whatever mess it was within what appeared to be a few twists.

All of us in life have been given Rubik’s Cubes aka “Life” to solve and various levels of frustration mount as we try to solve the puzzle by ourselves. Sometimes everything looks like it is lining up, but we turn a corner and look at a mess. Sometimes we created it, sometimes we didn’t have any control over it, sometimes it was messed up by someone we love or trusted. It isn’t lining up the way we wanted.

The first normal reaction is irritation and frustration – that stage where we try to fix it ourselves by pulling us up by our own bootstraps. In my experience those bootstraps generally tangle us up instead of help us regain our footing. I imagine we are pulling our footing right out from under ourselves – funny, right?

Or we could play the blame game – doesn’t solve anything and only makes us feel bad and alienate us from whomever we consider “the problem.”

Or we could hand our Rubik’s Cube of life to God and let Him direct our puzzle. This is like watching a master puzzle solver. Swish. tap. tap. swish. That looks worse… Tap. tap. swish. swish. Wow. How is that possible? Now all sides are each a solid color.

It looks like magic in the master’s hands.

Next time I feel like wailing because something just isn’t lining up, I hope I remember that image of the Rubik’s Cube in a master puzzle solver’s hands and think of how my life is like a Rubik’s Cube and I need to hand it to God and let Him solve my crazy mess – lead me the way He wants my life to go and then I can see the beauty of order only He can see in my chaos.

Crazy writer’s brain thoughts, I know, but hopefully it makes you smile.

Thank you for reading!

Type at you later,

~Nancy Tart

Train Tracks

Memories with train tracks: little brothers, giggling elves, children 🙂

December 11, 2018

Train Tracks

One Christmas, about 10 years ago, Christina, Rebeccah, and baby Kimberly received a train track set with two little trains.  It was a tight year; Mommy had found it at a resale shop for $7 with its own storage tub!  This was the “big present” that year.  Mommy and Daddy almost woke the little sleepers up giggling and playing with it as we set it up around the Christmas tree.  Daddy put the crayons (Mommy saved those from penny sales at the start of school time) and coloring books in sets around it.  Three tins with special cookies and treats we’d made were wrapped up and set around the track too.  Other presents gathered around the tree, hiding in the circle of track.

That sturdy mix of train track and car track has been heavily played with for many years.  It was Lucas and Isaac’s favorite thing to do – “play train tracks” from as soon as they could run every car that would possibly fit down the track.

The tracks fit together like puzzles.  Jaquline likes to build the track.  Lucas likes both building and “vrooming” trains and cars on it.

They built this one together and took pictures of it!

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Lucas has become a little puzzle-fitter when it comes to making the tracks fit lately.  The latest update for him has been adding mega-blocks and duplos under the tracks to raise them up over the “water” floor.  Once Jaquline showed him this possibility, he’s been trying it by himself!

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This little run below was all Lucas.

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We heard the Christmas song that goes “…little toy trains and little toy tracks…” and Lucas shouted, “Mommy!  A song about my train tracks!”

We donate at least one bag of toys every year as Christmas gets closer, (this year Lucas chose three of his “best cars” to give away to another little boy, and Rebeccah “found” a Lego set in their Legos which she printed the instructions for and gave away) but these tracks stay.

I remember making train tracks with my brothers, and am glad to make “train track” memories with my little ones too.

Thanks for reading!

Type at you next time…

~Nancy Tart

Number Seven

Yes, ambiguious title and puzzle til the end of a long post…

October 24, 2018

Number Seven

Ambiguous title?  Yes.

Am I being cryptic on purpose?  Yes.

You are supposed to figure out the puzzle from the clues in this story.

(WARNING!  LONG STORY! – and it’s pretty deep because there’s a lot of feelings and thoughts smashed in here.)

Anyway, in April and May, I was in and out of clinics and the hospital because of a severe reaction to black mold.  (I know, crazy, right?)  I researched the medication I was to finish and every side effect possible happened to me (they always do, it’s just my weird, unique biology) so my hair fell out, hormone levels changed, pimples exploded over my face, and various other physical changes happened, I wasn’t watching for anything else.  It was a low period for me because it seemed my favorite parts of my body (long hair, my figure, health) was disappearing.  (Crazy reason to be depressed, isn’t it? After all, I was still alive!)  Although I kept telling myself this would work itself out, and I kept praying and believing God had control of this situation too (He has everything in His hands.), it was sometimes hard to face it without feeling sad.  Especially for me when I brushed my hair and it seemed there was more hair in the brush than stayed on my head.  (Of course, shedding hair means length disappears, so I went from semi-thick long hair that was below my waist to thin few-strands-to-the-middle-of-my-back.)  My hair was something that even as a child I was really proud of.  I’ve never cut it.  I always wanted to have long hair like Lady Godiva (ever seen the version where Maureen O’Hara plays Lady Godiva? I loved that movie because she was a strong, bold woman who loved her people.) and loved the Bible verse that says our “long hair is our covering.”  Plus, Louis likes my hair long. (Yes, after getting married, I thought it would take too much time to have to style short, plain hair so it was cool that my husband liked it long and straight.)

Being that I’m allergic to almost everything chemical (latex, cleaning fluids, pills, antibiotics, the inhaler I was prescribed!, etc.), we pretty much rely on natural family planning and some non-latex help.  Usually, I know my body well.  Part of the side-effects to one of the drugs was hormone imbalance which threw my body off where I wasn’t sure what it was doing.  Not considering it a good time for pregnancy, we decided to hold off on any potential baby-making.  Period.

Oh well, God laughed at that.

Certain things began to reverse during July.  My hair began to grow back (I have one-inch-long sticking-ups all over my head), my figure returned to normal, and other small things in my body seemed to reset.  I was very curious because although I’d been off the huge assortment of “we-don’t-know-what-this-is-but-treat-everything” drugs in the hospital for two months, everything I’d read about the steroid they’d given me was that it took twelve to eighteen months for the hormone imbalance to correct itself and I was still taking one occasionally to prevent asthma attacks.  What was turning my imbalance around?

Yep, God decided to reset my body himself; with a baby.

I love being pregnant, but worried that the drugs I’d been on had effected the child – then relaxed about as soon as I thought about it because if we were trying to keep it from happening (Starting in mid-April with the only 100% sure way), yet God said “haha, you thought you knew this stuff,” He obviously was in charge of baby’s health.

For the first time in my reproductive life, the only “date” I have can’t be.  I keep calendars that are honestly way too detailed, but those dates don’t match with the dates counting backwards.  (Every other time in my life I knew the day/night we came together to start our little blessing!)  Based on these “diary facts” as my girls call them, I can’t figure the time.  (What happened?  The little swimmers had to get through sheepskin & sit around inside of me for eight to ten days?  Really?  If I use the LMP date, that’s what had to happen because after that was nothing. Period.  I didn’t know hanging around inside was medically possible.)

Now, I’m totally enthusiastic about being pregnant (I am one of those crazy women who LOVE carrying life – every part of it); I just am amazed at the mystery of this baby.  I figured you know, I know what protection is, we use planning, and yeah, I get it, I’ve seen women on the pill, using protection, and even two who had their tubes tied get pregnant, so I know anything is possible.

I mean, philosophically we trust all to God’s hands, including family size and timing.  (Or say so, we were technically trying not to get pregnant with the whole breathing and health thing “at least until we moved to a mold-free house”)  But can you say surprised?  Yes.

So, “number seven” is this little precious life growing inside of me!  (Yes, I know most people, including many member of my family, think we are completely nuts, and maybe we are – but we are loving this adventure!)

New job, new baby, surprise!  God says!  Now I have an awesome job I can’t believe I really get to do and seriously get paid for (I love teaching children!) and a new little life growing inside that Lucas can’t wait to wrestle with (he comes and mashes on my belly, talks to “his baby,” and the baby responds by racing around, kicking, punching, whatever inside me).  I’m so excited… what does God have next?  A plot of land we can call our own and a trailer to stick on it or some plot with an old house that needs work – maybe?  Or are Kimberly’s dreams of building our own “movable house” accurate?  Okay, I’m totally open to the next step in this adventure!  (And, yes, I’m fine if that means, “rest, sit tight, you’re in pause mode right now.”)

Thanks for reading!

Type at you later…

~Nancy Tart

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