We’re a rag-tag group of people vigilantly pursuing self-sustaining educational & employment opportunities with and for students and their families living in rural communities in developing countries. We believe in asking hard questions like, “What do you need and how can we help?” We believe that communities know their needs better than we do and that it’s our job to listen. We’re big on being kind for the sake of kindness and we believe that even the smallest acts of kindness can make a big difference. We believe in keeping vigil over one another and watching for opportunities to help, no matter how far off the beaten path those opportunities take us. We’re vigilant in our belief that God has given each person unique gifts and that one of the highest forms of worship is using those gifts to serve others. We believe God has a purpose for each life and Vigilante Kindness is our purpose. Join us as we live out wild adventures in service of God and others. Join us in committing acts of Vigilante Kindness.
new shoes that feel comfortable from the first wear
my little one who brought his hamster, Mr. Beans, to school on his special sharing day. The kids squealed and cheered when the boy took Mr. Beans out of his box. Mr. Beans then spent the next hour scared stiff. Poor Mr. Beans will never be the same!
another little one who brought his pet, Lilly the Tortoise, to share. Lilly has impeccable timing and pooped just as the boy was lifting her out of her box. The class started shrieking in horror as the poop plopped into the box. Poor first graders will never be the same. I on the other hand, had to stifle my giggles. Potty humor slays me.
the rare bike ride where my legs feel like they could go forever
talking to my brothers on the phone and dreaming about a big bike adventure together. What happens in Vegas stays in Vegas, except when I post pictures on my blog. Brothers, consider yourselves warned.
these magical words from the pharmacist “I’ve got that on hand. Your prescription will be ready in a few minutes.” My sinuses thank you, kind sir.
the little boy in my class who wore his “I’m a Big Brother” sticker all weekend and just had to wear it to school Monday
the sound of my neighborhood in spring. Children play outside, wind chimes ting-a-ting-ting on gust of barbecue scented wind. Spring is here and not a moment too soon.
the fact that it’s week 20 and I still have so much to be grateful for. I hope the same is true for you.
I usually ride with friends. In fact, I think I can count on one hand the times I’ve ridden solo. Saturday I’d arranged to meet up with a group of girls for an easy spin on the river trail. 15ish miles, just enough to get out and enjoy the beautiful weather. Then one by one, most of my friends cancelled. So Saturday afternoon, when I found myself standing alone kicking rocks at our meeting place, I decided to ride in my own good company.
Sure I could’ve called it quits and stuffed The Rocket back into the car, but I was already clad in Spandex and you know I love Spandex. Plus I’d been battling a sinus infection all week and I was just sick of being sick. I, quite literally, needed to clear my head. And I knew just the road to clear it. I had a conversation with myself that went something like this: Today I will climb. Today I will climb the North side of Shasta Dam. I’ve ridden to the Dam countless times, but always from the South side. The North side is bigger, badder and has been beckoning me for months.
I set out along the river, her waters rising up to meet me, rippling right up to the edge of the trail. The Sacramento is the river of my childhood and as I pedaled her curves, I remembered riding my pink Schwinn on this very trail. Remember riding bikes as a kid? I don’t know about you, but my hindquarters rarely made use of my flowered banana seat because being a kid was about speeding over hills, crowing into the sky and slamming on the brakes to make the most impressive skid mark.
I rode along the river climbing beyond the section of trail populated by strollers, scooters and the occasional Segway. I was in the mountains now, alone save for a handful of cyclists enjoying a nice downhill from the opposite direction. I thought about turning around and coasting down behind them, but Shasta Dam called to me. I reached a clearing and there she stood.
Do you see that road to the left of the Dam? The one that snakes around the mountain? That was my road. At the base of the mountain, I shared the road with some ATV’s and some dirt bikes, all of whom were operated by extremely polite drivers. No, really. Each and every off-roader, gave me a wide berth on the road. About half way up the mountain, the dirt bikes and ATV’s raced onto the dirt trails, leaving me alone with the road. With every turn, it looked like the Dam was just around the corner. She’s tricky like that, playing hide and seek in the trees, coaxing me further and further up the mountain.
My legs were strong and steady all the way up the mountain to the Dam. I’m as shocked as you are, since my legs are usually about as strong as partially set Jell-O. I cruised across the Dam, riding close to the edge and peering into Lake Shasta, who had swallowed the entire tree line. I turned my bike and peeked over the other side. Staring down the face of the Dam, I felt my stomach drop. It’s the same feeling I get when I’m falling in a dream. Terrifying and thrilling all at the same time. And yet, I can’t cross over the Dam without taking a glance. 2 more miles of decent hills lay just on the other side of the Dam. That last bit of climbing was nothing compared to the ascent to the Dam. I zipped up and over the mountain into town where I crossed over Keswick Dam and slipped back onto the river trail.
The river welcomed me as I raced along the flat side of the trail toward my car. I was killing the flats and when I looked down at my speedometer, it was ticking away at 18 mph. This isn’t fast for a real cyclist, but for me it’s a pretty decent pace. I cranked into a harder gear and whipped my legs faster and faster. I was really flying now! I leaned my head back and crowed into the blue sky. At the end of the ride, I’d racked up 41 miles, but more importantly my head was completely clear. Driving home, I replayed the ride in my mind. I held the beauty of the water in my eyes and the joy of climbing mountains in my heart. I’ll be crowing about this ride for a long time.
my friend, who asked me to teach her how to ride a bike
days when hair and makeup aren’t even on the radar because all I’m going to do is ride my bike, conquer the laundry, read, and (if I’m lucky) ride my bike some more
good books
the smell of clean laundry
my little one who blushes and grins when I call him “sweet boy”
10:30pm I set my alarm for 5am, an ungodly hour to be upright and functioning. I settle down, pulling the covers up under my chin and think about what tomorrow holds. In the morning I’ll head to Sacramento to scout out a potential new writing curriculum. After the workshop, I’ll scoot over to a friend’s house to ride our bikes along the American River Trail. And if there’s time, I might even squeeze in a little shopping. It looks to be a full, fun day. I turn over in bed, ticking off the things I’d packed in the car. Bike? Check. Bike clothes, helmet, gloves, etc? Check, check, check, etc. Healthy snacks for the road? Check. Glasses? Check. I roll over in bed and make sure the sound on my alarm is turned up. Check
2am I wake up in a panic, sure I’d slept through my alarm. I pad to the bathroom and slip back in bed.
3am Seriously, am I going to wake up every hour until it’s time to get up?
4am Apparently so.
Sometime between 4:30 and 5:40am I dream that I wake up hours after my alarm was set to go off. In my dream my teeth began to fall out. My molars came out in 2’s and 3’s, right there in my hand. The pain shot through my head, but just as I wondered why my teeth were abandoning ship, I started vomiting. So violent were my dream heaves that I sit straight up in bed, my stomach cramping into a tight fist, waking me with a start.
5:40am I run my tongue over my teeth and breathe a sigh of relief that all of my pearly whites are firmly in place. My relief lasts approximately three seconds until I look at the time. 5:40?!? NOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!! My alarm was supposed to go off forty minutes ago! I have 20 minutes to tame my bedhead and get on the road to make the drive to Sacramento.
6:10am I pull out of the driveway, pleased I’m only 10 minutes late. I flick on some music and settle in for two and half hours of solitude in the car. The sunrise has painted the clouds fuchsia.
8:25am Traffic is moving quickly and I should arrive at the workshop with just enough time to park and check in. This day might just turn out okay after all.
8:30am 15 minutes away from my destination, my phone buzzes. Missed call from school. I’ll call them when I get there, it’s probably some last-minute thing about the purchase order for this workshop. My phone buzzes a second, then a third, then a fourth time. On the fifth buzz, I pull into a rest area and check my messages. All the messages and texts tell me the same thing: the workshop has been cancelled. I sit in the parking lot, at a loss as to what to do next. Should I turn around and drive the two and a half hours home? That sounds ridiculous. I call our school secretary and she changes my day to a personal day. I decide to ride my bike and shop. I pinch myself to make sure this isn’t a dream within a dream kind of thing happening.
9:30am I pull up to my friend’s house and we throw our bikes in the back of his truck and head out to the American River Trail. The weather is perfect, cool with a slight breeze. We ride by Lake Natoma and I breathe in the smell of the earth. Everything is green and lush. I’m again tempted to pinch myself. Who would have thought I’d be riding one of my favorite trails on a Tuesday morning?
Lake Natoma
12:00pm I pack my bike away in my car. I’m all squeaky clean and showered. Gosh, it would be silly not to do a little shopping while I was in the city. Might as well, right?
12:45pm I eat lunch in the company of a good book and then hit the stores. And miracle of miracles, I find three pairs of shoes that fit my ginormous feet. I buy them, stroking my new buttery soft leather boots.
4:00pm I hit the road in possession of my shoes, a new black jacket, a necklace and a pair of fancy pants cupcakes, which I am determined to share with my husband when I get back home.
5:00pm My alarm goes off, mocking me. Damn that AM/PM button!
6:10pm 20 more minutes and then I’m home free. Suddenly a tan sedan swerves off the road in front of me and stops nose first in the ditch in between the north and southbound lanes. I’m in the right hand lane and can’t get over to the left lane to see if everyone is okay. I frantically punch 911 into my phone and report the accident to Highway Patrol. I watch the crashed car in my rearview mirror. I see people moving inside, but nobody is getting out. Damn it, why won’t traffic move so I can pull over? Why isn’t anyone else stopping? I speed ahead and take the next exit and head South towards the car. An ambulance screams by me, lights flashing, siren blaring. I hold my breath. It feels like I don’t breathe again until I see the car and the rescue workers helping the people out of the car. I exit the southbound lane and start toward home again.
6:30pm Back at home I unpack my car and sit down for a minute, rolling my shoulders to ease the tension that has knotted between them.
10:30pm I sink into bed and check my alarm, making sure it’s set for 6:15am. I double, then triple check it just to be sure.
Sometime between 11pm and 2am I fall into a dream. I see Lake Natoma, the tree line reflected in her glassy, green face. I watch in horror as the tan sedan plunges off the road headfirst into the water. I see people moving inside, but nobody is getting out. The passengers stare at me as I ride on the other side of the lake, powerless to reach them in time.
2:02am I sit up in bed, my heart racing and beads of sweat trickling down my hairline. My lungs feel sodden with lake water. I catch my breath and lay back down. In the haze of the morning hours, I separate the filmy dream from reality, pinching myself just to be sure.
6:15am My alarm sounds and I roll out of bed. I get ready for the morning and as I look in the mirror, I wonder just what unexpected events lay ahead of me today. I slip into my new boots and take a deep breath. Some days are just so surreal.
This week I’m thankful for…
Do you see that road to the left of the Dam? The one that snakes around the mountain? That was my road. At the base of the mountain, I shared the road with some ATV’s and some dirt bikes, all of whom were operated by extremely polite drivers. No, really. Each and every off-roader, gave me a wide berth on the road. About half way up the mountain, the dirt bikes and ATV’s raced onto the dirt trails, leaving me alone with the road. With every turn, it looked like the Dam was just around the corner. She’s tricky like that, playing hide and seek in the trees, coaxing me further and further up the mountain.
The river welcomed me as I raced along the flat side of the trail toward my car. I was killing the flats and when I looked down at my speedometer, it was ticking away at 18 mph. This isn’t fast for a real cyclist, but for me it’s a pretty decent pace. I cranked into a harder gear and whipped my legs faster and faster. I was really flying now! I leaned my head back and crowed into the blue sky. At the end of the ride, I’d racked up 41 miles, but more importantly my head was completely clear. Driving home, I replayed the ride in my mind. I held the beauty of the water in my eyes and the joy of climbing mountains in my heart. I’ll be crowing about this ride for a long time.
This week I’m thankful for…
Vigilante Kindness 