I went duning this summer. It’s a Michigan thing. I think purely a Michigan thing. It’s dunes upon dunes, rolling, cascading, flowing with views of the vast Lake Michigan to the west and beautiful forestry of green to the east. You can find yourself alone on the dune with nothing but tan sand and blue skies ahead of you or you can find yourself speeding next to a hundred different types of dune-equipped vehicles. Trucks, jeeps, dune buggies, dirt bikes. All of it. It’s like Nascar meets county fair meets mother nature.
I went with my buddy, Chad. Our mode of enjoyment was a Jeep Wrangler. A JEEP WRANGLER! I love, with all of my heart, soul, and mind, JEEP WRANGLERS. You guys, not one bad thought or feeling can happen while in a Jeep Wrangler. It’s just not possible. I’ve tried it.
We found ourselves gliding around little pockets of trees, almost a dance between the forestry and sand, perfectly intermixed to follow it’s natural flow.
The nature part was beautiful but I think my favorite moment was when a seven year old with a bandana tied around her head rolled up beside us. Her hands in the air with her high-pitched voice screaming “MERICA as her daddy stormed over the ridge and down the hill.
As we rolled around a bend there was another JeepWrangler that had sunk in the sand into a tree. Chad saw it first and acknowledged it. I, in turn, acknowledged it as a sucky situation as well; thinking we’d continue ON OUR WAY. But Chad wheeled around and circled back to the Jeep Wrangler, hopped out, tied a rope to their bumper and pulled them out. (I worked hard too. Hard at determining which filter to use on my instagram post of the day of duning!).
With the Jeep rescued, he hopped in and off we went. And the goodness of Chad’s act of service hit me.
Thank you. I said. For reminding me to stop.
You know, he replied, when I was at a fairgrounds last night (watching his nieces compete in dirt bike racing – yes, so fun, right? So awesome?) I was realizing that for all the ways I could judge the group of people I was surrounded by, they would be the FIRST people to stop and help me.
And just like that, I’m reminded that life isn’t just about showing up. Sometimes it’s about the stopping.
DO UNTO OTHERS as you would have them do until you. That’s the secret sauce Jesus was talking about – I’m pretty sure of it.
May I always have eyes to see the light. The same light in me as the same light in you, in them, in those people. May I never be too busy to love, that is, to stop and let my little light shine.