Why is it that in this world it is constantly about what we don't have. Let's see, my dishwasher quit working today, the water heater quit a couple weeks back, the washer is always acting up and who knows what else could "die" around here. The truck is pushing 200,000 miles, and the carpet is starting to show that it is almost ten years old. The computer is always working on it's own time frame, which is downright slow... The TV set is the same one we got 9 years ago and although it works, it's not big and it's not a nice new, flat LCD screen. I could go on and on and on... But then, when I really look, it's not about all the stuff I don't have, or the stuff I just don't have the money to fix or just to go get "new"... It's about what I do have.
I have been blessed first and foremost with a family that is healthy, active, smart and funny. They keep me on my toes and they keep me smiling and laughing. I have a home over my head, that although mortgaged to the max, it is still our home. A home we built for ourselves. Each piece of tile and each shingle, we laid and set to hold this family that we have. I have an extended family that offers me support anytime I need it. I have friends that call to say hello. I have a job that pays well, and respects me and my life outside of work. I have running hot water (thanks to that new hot water heater), a furnace to keep my house warm in this incredibly cold Michigan winter, and enough food in the fridge to feed my family. I have Faith that even when all the things I do have "quit" working, usually all at the same time - or at least in groups of three, that God will provide me with either the money to fix it, or the patience to just do the darn dishes by hand, or as Jessi would say, "the old-fashioned way."
It's not that I don't have enough time to do everything that needs to be done, it's the fact that I am healthy and able to do all that I have put on my to do list, even if it takes a 26 hour day. That I have the chance to be a mom, a wife, and work a full-time job, and have the desire to still do my own "hobby" and make some extra doing what I like. It's not that I don't have time to write that children's book, it's the fact that I have the desire to do it; God will provide the time when the time is right. It's not about having to run kids to all the extra's that they are involved in; it's the fact that they are capable of doing so much. It's not about nitpicking about always being the one to do the dishes and the laundry, it's the fact that God gave me children and a husband to look after. I shouldn't be sorry I have chores to do, but be blessed that I have a family to do them for.
And on days like today, when that cold I've been fighting piles on top of lovely lady monthly, and the chores that pile up and the work that just has to be done, I really just need to pause and take that timeout (please God, send me to my room tonight)... I need to just close my eyes, breathe that deep breath, and know that I am blessed. Life is still in me and all around me, and that I am not burdened with all the "things" that it feels like get dumped on my shoulder, rather I am blessed with the ability to step up to the plate and swing away, because this is my life and rather than sit the bench, I have been blessed with the ability to play the game.
Tuesday, February 26, 2008
Friday, February 22, 2008
The Invisible Mom
I received this in a forwarded email today and it was so moving that I had to post it again... Enjoy!
"The Invisible Mom:
I'm Invisible. It all began to make sense, the blank stares, the lack of response, the way one of the kids will walk into the room while I'm on the phone and ask to be taken to the store. Inside I'm thinking, "Can't you see I'm on the phone?"
Obviously not; no one can see if I'm on the phone, or cooking, or sweeping the floor, or even standing on my head in the corner, because no one can see me at all. I'm invisible. The invisible Mom. Some days I am only a pair of hands, nothing more: Can you fix this? Can you tie this? Can you open this? Some days I'm not a pair of hands; I'm not even a human being. I'm a clock to ask, "What time is it?" I'm a satellite guide to answer, "What number is the Disney Channel?" I'm a car to order, "Right around 5:30, please."
I was certain that these were the hands that once held books and the eyes that studied history and the mind that graduated summa cum laude - but now they had disappeared into the peanut butter, never to be seen again. She's going, she's going, and she's gone!
One night, a group of us were having dinner, celebrating the return of a friend from England. Janice had just gotten back from a fabulous trip, and she was going on and on about the hotel she stayed in. I was sitting there, looking around at the others all put together so well. It was hard not to compare and feel sorry for myself as I looked down at my out-of-style dress; it was the only thing I could find that was clean. My unwashed hair was pulled up in a hair clip and I was afraid I could actually smell peanut butter in it.
I was feeling pretty pathetic, when Janice turned to me with a beautifully wrapped package, and said, "I brought you this." It was a book on the great cathedrals of Europe. I wasn't exactly sure why she'd given it to me until I read her inscription: "To Charlotte , with admiration for the greatness of what you are building when no one sees."
In the days ahead I would read - no, devour - the book. And I would discover what would become for me, four life-changing truths, after which I could pattern my work: No one can say who built the great cathedrals - we have no record of their names. These builders gave their whole lives for a work they would never see finished. They made great sacrifices and expected no credit. The passion of their building was fueled by their faith that the eyes of God saw everything.
A legendary story in the book told of a rich man who came to visit the cathedral while it was being built, and he saw a workman carving a tiny bird on the inside of a beam. He was puzzled and asked the man, "Why are you spending so much time carving that bird into a beam that will be covered by the roof? No one will ever see it." And the workman replied, "Because God sees."
I closed the book, feeling the missing piece fall into place. It was almost as if I heard God whispering to me, "I see you, Charlotte. I see the sacrifices you make every day, even when no one around you does. No act of kindness you've done, no sequin you've sewn on, no cupcake you've baked, is too small for me to notice and smile over. You are building a great cathedral, but you can't see right now what it will become."
At times, my invisibility feels like an affliction. But it is not a disease that is erasing my life. It is the cure for the disease of my own self-centeredness. It is the antidote to my strong, stubborn pride. I keep the right perspective when I see my self as a great builder. As one of the people who show up at a job that they will never see finished, to work on something that their name will never be on. The writer of the book went so far as to say that no cathedrals could ever be built in our lifetime because there are so few people willing to sacrifice to that degree.
When I really think about it, I don't want my son to tell the friend he's bringing home from college for Thanksgiving, "My Mom gets up at 4 in the morning and bakes homemade pies, and then she hand bastes a turkey for three hours and presses all the linens for the table." That would mean I'd built a shrine or a monument to myself. I just want him to want to come home. And then, if there is anything more to say to his friend, to add, "You're gonna love it there."
As mothers, we are building great cathedrals. We cannot be seen if we're doing it right. And one day, it is very possible that the world will marvel, not only at what we have built, but at the beauty that has been added to the world by the sacrifices of invisible women. "
"The Invisible Mom:
I'm Invisible. It all began to make sense, the blank stares, the lack of response, the way one of the kids will walk into the room while I'm on the phone and ask to be taken to the store. Inside I'm thinking, "Can't you see I'm on the phone?"
Obviously not; no one can see if I'm on the phone, or cooking, or sweeping the floor, or even standing on my head in the corner, because no one can see me at all. I'm invisible. The invisible Mom. Some days I am only a pair of hands, nothing more: Can you fix this? Can you tie this? Can you open this? Some days I'm not a pair of hands; I'm not even a human being. I'm a clock to ask, "What time is it?" I'm a satellite guide to answer, "What number is the Disney Channel?" I'm a car to order, "Right around 5:30, please."
I was certain that these were the hands that once held books and the eyes that studied history and the mind that graduated summa cum laude - but now they had disappeared into the peanut butter, never to be seen again. She's going, she's going, and she's gone!
One night, a group of us were having dinner, celebrating the return of a friend from England. Janice had just gotten back from a fabulous trip, and she was going on and on about the hotel she stayed in. I was sitting there, looking around at the others all put together so well. It was hard not to compare and feel sorry for myself as I looked down at my out-of-style dress; it was the only thing I could find that was clean. My unwashed hair was pulled up in a hair clip and I was afraid I could actually smell peanut butter in it.
I was feeling pretty pathetic, when Janice turned to me with a beautifully wrapped package, and said, "I brought you this." It was a book on the great cathedrals of Europe. I wasn't exactly sure why she'd given it to me until I read her inscription: "To Charlotte , with admiration for the greatness of what you are building when no one sees."
In the days ahead I would read - no, devour - the book. And I would discover what would become for me, four life-changing truths, after which I could pattern my work: No one can say who built the great cathedrals - we have no record of their names. These builders gave their whole lives for a work they would never see finished. They made great sacrifices and expected no credit. The passion of their building was fueled by their faith that the eyes of God saw everything.
A legendary story in the book told of a rich man who came to visit the cathedral while it was being built, and he saw a workman carving a tiny bird on the inside of a beam. He was puzzled and asked the man, "Why are you spending so much time carving that bird into a beam that will be covered by the roof? No one will ever see it." And the workman replied, "Because God sees."
I closed the book, feeling the missing piece fall into place. It was almost as if I heard God whispering to me, "I see you, Charlotte. I see the sacrifices you make every day, even when no one around you does. No act of kindness you've done, no sequin you've sewn on, no cupcake you've baked, is too small for me to notice and smile over. You are building a great cathedral, but you can't see right now what it will become."
At times, my invisibility feels like an affliction. But it is not a disease that is erasing my life. It is the cure for the disease of my own self-centeredness. It is the antidote to my strong, stubborn pride. I keep the right perspective when I see my self as a great builder. As one of the people who show up at a job that they will never see finished, to work on something that their name will never be on. The writer of the book went so far as to say that no cathedrals could ever be built in our lifetime because there are so few people willing to sacrifice to that degree.
When I really think about it, I don't want my son to tell the friend he's bringing home from college for Thanksgiving, "My Mom gets up at 4 in the morning and bakes homemade pies, and then she hand bastes a turkey for three hours and presses all the linens for the table." That would mean I'd built a shrine or a monument to myself. I just want him to want to come home. And then, if there is anything more to say to his friend, to add, "You're gonna love it there."
As mothers, we are building great cathedrals. We cannot be seen if we're doing it right. And one day, it is very possible that the world will marvel, not only at what we have built, but at the beauty that has been added to the world by the sacrifices of invisible women. "
Tuesday, February 19, 2008
Cell Phone
Oh my, it really amazes me how completely dependent I have become to this little handheld electronic device that really holds and organizes my ENTIRE life!! I have a nice little palm phone and I have word documents, my calendar, my photos, my music, my entire address book including not just phone numbers, but addresses, emails, points of interests, etc... I quit keeping a written address book. And now, now my phone has DIED. She literally stuck her little digital tongue out at me and I could hear the slight sounds of wimpering as she faded completely from this world right in my hands, in front of my tearfilled eyes. I couldn't bring her back to life no matter how many times I took out and replaced the battery or plugged her into the charger. I talked to her, I tried coaxing her, I cussed her out and felt like throwing her.
It was only after five tries at getting a hold of the local phone doctor and surgeon, and after leaving two messages that I threw my coat and boots back on and was headed out in a snowstorm, and I was five miles down the road in a complete state of panic when I realized... she isn't a child. I really didn't need to panic and rush her to the Cell Phone Emergency Room. Did I? I was torn, was this really an emergency worth braving this crazy weather for? I would call another cell phone addict to discuss but all of my numbers are now lost to me... What if the doctor couldn't bring her back to life?? What if I lost all the time and energy I spent storing all that information, and the photos I took would they be gone forever? My crazy dependency on her was unravelling before my very eyes.
I finally made it to the cell phone guru, who politely looked at her, gave her the once over and said, "I am so sorry ma'am, but there is really nothing we can do for her." Nothing! All this technology and nothing capable of fixing her. I really don't want a new one, it is covered under warranty, but what about all my info?!
So here I am, debating if it is worth ANOTHER trip in a snowstorm to the other phone dealer who could at least give me a "loaner" phone until the replacement arrives in the mail. Logic is trying to tell me that I will survive one night until I am in town tomorrow morning anyway to pick up this new "loaner". Not sure yet if logic will win... it's only been 4 hours and I'm already sensing sign of serious withdrawal. I keep thinking I hear her sweet melody town ringing just for me, or that polite little chirp with a new incoming text... But in reality there is nothing...
Ahh, I have really lost my mind, literally, since most of my knowledge was stored inside of my baby, and who in 2 - 5 days will be politely replaced by another who will try to fill her shoes and meet my overwhelming dependency... :-)
It was only after five tries at getting a hold of the local phone doctor and surgeon, and after leaving two messages that I threw my coat and boots back on and was headed out in a snowstorm, and I was five miles down the road in a complete state of panic when I realized... she isn't a child. I really didn't need to panic and rush her to the Cell Phone Emergency Room. Did I? I was torn, was this really an emergency worth braving this crazy weather for? I would call another cell phone addict to discuss but all of my numbers are now lost to me... What if the doctor couldn't bring her back to life?? What if I lost all the time and energy I spent storing all that information, and the photos I took would they be gone forever? My crazy dependency on her was unravelling before my very eyes.
I finally made it to the cell phone guru, who politely looked at her, gave her the once over and said, "I am so sorry ma'am, but there is really nothing we can do for her." Nothing! All this technology and nothing capable of fixing her. I really don't want a new one, it is covered under warranty, but what about all my info?!
So here I am, debating if it is worth ANOTHER trip in a snowstorm to the other phone dealer who could at least give me a "loaner" phone until the replacement arrives in the mail. Logic is trying to tell me that I will survive one night until I am in town tomorrow morning anyway to pick up this new "loaner". Not sure yet if logic will win... it's only been 4 hours and I'm already sensing sign of serious withdrawal. I keep thinking I hear her sweet melody town ringing just for me, or that polite little chirp with a new incoming text... But in reality there is nothing...
Ahh, I have really lost my mind, literally, since most of my knowledge was stored inside of my baby, and who in 2 - 5 days will be politely replaced by another who will try to fill her shoes and meet my overwhelming dependency... :-)
Tuesday, February 12, 2008
A Box of Chocolates
"My mama always said 'Life was like a box of chocolates. You never know what you're gonna get.'" Forrest Gump sums life up pretty well, you never know what's around that next corner, over that next hill, or just on the other side of your own front door, or maybe standing over your shoulder and breathing down your neck - it could be the loving hubby or the monsters from your dreams coming to take you back to fantasy land... I am the absolute proof that just when you think you have a plan someone else shows you a different plan. I have almost given up planning altogether because lately they don't seem to pan out anyway.
So back to Forrest and my box of chocolate... Unfortunately, I'm a pretty picky "chocolate" person. I love it, but only those certain few pieces of it really grab my attention/appetite. Dark chocolate for instance, and not just all dark chocolate, but the 65% cocao pieces... almost as much antioxidants per serving as a bowl full of blueberries! So, anyway, back to the "box," in my pickiness for the chocolate in my life, it seems that I have poked my nail into every piece in the box and I still can't "find" that plan that I had.
Plans that we set for ourselves, like "debt free in 5 years" yeah, that chocolate did not only miss getting put in my box but I think it grew feet and ran as far from me as the little milky legs could carry it. Or, how about the plan to have written a children's book... yeah, I found that chocolate and every time I try to take a bite out of it, I choke on it and set it back in the box for another day. Then there all the little plans, dreams, "to-dos" on my list of chocolates to try... it seems like I reach for that rasberry creme chocolate and come up with a vanilla nut carmel that is shocking when you bite into and get some unexpected, yet still yummy, flavor, but that new and exciting flavor totally takes you of course and again, your plan is left by the wayside.
You could say that I've been looking for that perfect dark chocolate, that is pure and good, and coats your tongue with bittersweet smoothness, and a hint of berries... but, i keep grabbing something with nuts that just adds to the craziness in my life, and crazy it is. Not as crazy as some, or maybe just as crazy, just a different type of crazy. Like my chocolates are filled with almonds and maybe yours are filled with pecans... and then there is the carmel, the carmel that sticks to your fingers and leaves a little trail of goo on your chin. The carmel that sticks to you and won't let go, it's so sweet and tantalizing, but soooo off course, but it's so sticky that you just can't let go and get back on track.
So yes, my life is like a box of chocolates. I'll keep looking for that dreamy piece of perfection, and I'll keep that plan to find it, but I know enough to not close my eyes and savor the expected flavor before actually biting into it, beacuse someone out there is looking down at me and waiting to see the shocked look on my face when I bite into yet another carmel nut concoction instead of the creamy raspberry that I wanted. And when I do give that shocked expression after biting into that "chocolate" that wasn't the one I had planned, His heavenly sense of humor will get a little enjoyment of seeing me realize that it's not my box of chocolates after all. It's a great big box of chocolates that He is holding open for me. He actually even has one of those neat little "maps" that shows you which piece of chocolate is the one you are looking for, my problem is with all my planning, I forget to read His map, and instead I try to poke around and find my own perfect flavor. One day I'll find that chocolate I've been looking for and realize it was right in front of me all along.
So back to Forrest and my box of chocolate... Unfortunately, I'm a pretty picky "chocolate" person. I love it, but only those certain few pieces of it really grab my attention/appetite. Dark chocolate for instance, and not just all dark chocolate, but the 65% cocao pieces... almost as much antioxidants per serving as a bowl full of blueberries! So, anyway, back to the "box," in my pickiness for the chocolate in my life, it seems that I have poked my nail into every piece in the box and I still can't "find" that plan that I had.
Plans that we set for ourselves, like "debt free in 5 years" yeah, that chocolate did not only miss getting put in my box but I think it grew feet and ran as far from me as the little milky legs could carry it. Or, how about the plan to have written a children's book... yeah, I found that chocolate and every time I try to take a bite out of it, I choke on it and set it back in the box for another day. Then there all the little plans, dreams, "to-dos" on my list of chocolates to try... it seems like I reach for that rasberry creme chocolate and come up with a vanilla nut carmel that is shocking when you bite into and get some unexpected, yet still yummy, flavor, but that new and exciting flavor totally takes you of course and again, your plan is left by the wayside.
You could say that I've been looking for that perfect dark chocolate, that is pure and good, and coats your tongue with bittersweet smoothness, and a hint of berries... but, i keep grabbing something with nuts that just adds to the craziness in my life, and crazy it is. Not as crazy as some, or maybe just as crazy, just a different type of crazy. Like my chocolates are filled with almonds and maybe yours are filled with pecans... and then there is the carmel, the carmel that sticks to your fingers and leaves a little trail of goo on your chin. The carmel that sticks to you and won't let go, it's so sweet and tantalizing, but soooo off course, but it's so sticky that you just can't let go and get back on track.
So yes, my life is like a box of chocolates. I'll keep looking for that dreamy piece of perfection, and I'll keep that plan to find it, but I know enough to not close my eyes and savor the expected flavor before actually biting into it, beacuse someone out there is looking down at me and waiting to see the shocked look on my face when I bite into yet another carmel nut concoction instead of the creamy raspberry that I wanted. And when I do give that shocked expression after biting into that "chocolate" that wasn't the one I had planned, His heavenly sense of humor will get a little enjoyment of seeing me realize that it's not my box of chocolates after all. It's a great big box of chocolates that He is holding open for me. He actually even has one of those neat little "maps" that shows you which piece of chocolate is the one you are looking for, my problem is with all my planning, I forget to read His map, and instead I try to poke around and find my own perfect flavor. One day I'll find that chocolate I've been looking for and realize it was right in front of me all along.
Old Friends...
There must be some sort of "tie that binds" when it comes to good friends. I have a dear friend who I've known since I was 8 years old. There are years where we've talked 3 times a day almost every day of the year depending on the circumstances going on during those years (marriage, having kids, raising kids, divorce, etc...) and there are years in between when we talk only 3 times a year. It always just feels good to talk to her though.
She is someone that knows me. She is the one that passed me the "you bitch" note in 6th grade because she thought I was stealing her boyfriend, someone neither one of us ended up "dating" (like you really "date" in the 6th grade), and she was the one that made me realize that no boy is worth a lifelong friendship. She is the one that was there in 4th grade when our house burned down, she was there for all the ups and downs that middle school & high school brought our way, she was there for my wedding and for the birth of all three kids, she was there when I went to college and she was there when I came home. She has vented to me and cried on my shoulder and I hers.
And the eerie thing is, that yesterday as I was headed home, I was thinking, wow, I missed her at Christmas this year. I sent the card, but I didn't talk to her at Christmas. Within 2 seconds of thinking that thought my phone rings and guess who it is... It's that bond that after 25 years we have with each other. We have that sense when the other needs us and when to just drop a note to say hello. The last time I talked to her was when my Grandfather passed away and she called out of the blue. She knew I needed to talk and there she was.
Friendship, real friendship, is like that. You move past the stage of wondering if "she doesn't like me anymore" that still dwells in us girls long after the elementary playground days of whose friend is whose; and, you move past the childhood jealousy of the other gaining new friends and spending more time with them. You move into that realm of friendship where there is no passage of time, when a call to chat is the same as if you spoke to her two days or two weeks ago, not two months or more. And when time changes so many things in this world around us, it is comforting to know that some things, some people, really don't change. We get older, we take one more and more "stuff" to keep us busy and to introduce to new people, but we are the person we have always been. We are that friend on the playground back in elementary school that kept the note from an upset friend as a reminder that friendship is worth more than a cute boy with a contagious giggle and smile. Friendship is real and it will hold you together when your life seems to fall apart.
Friends will tell you, "girl, you totally screwed that one up" or "friend, you should have known better..." They will tell you with all of the hurt that honesty can bring and you will accept it as that - truth and honesty, not judgmental or bitter. And it feels so good to know that even though she is the friend I have known the "longest" that I have been blessed with many friends who are more than "friends" but are true lifelong friends that will be there. They will be there to laugh with and share the moments that life brings, good and bad. They will be there to say something off the wall to make me laugh or cry, and they will be there when I think all of life may fall apart around me; and they will tell me to say no, to slow down, or to go for it... And, well, today... Today I just feel lucky to have all these friends!
She is someone that knows me. She is the one that passed me the "you bitch" note in 6th grade because she thought I was stealing her boyfriend, someone neither one of us ended up "dating" (like you really "date" in the 6th grade), and she was the one that made me realize that no boy is worth a lifelong friendship. She is the one that was there in 4th grade when our house burned down, she was there for all the ups and downs that middle school & high school brought our way, she was there for my wedding and for the birth of all three kids, she was there when I went to college and she was there when I came home. She has vented to me and cried on my shoulder and I hers.
And the eerie thing is, that yesterday as I was headed home, I was thinking, wow, I missed her at Christmas this year. I sent the card, but I didn't talk to her at Christmas. Within 2 seconds of thinking that thought my phone rings and guess who it is... It's that bond that after 25 years we have with each other. We have that sense when the other needs us and when to just drop a note to say hello. The last time I talked to her was when my Grandfather passed away and she called out of the blue. She knew I needed to talk and there she was.
Friendship, real friendship, is like that. You move past the stage of wondering if "she doesn't like me anymore" that still dwells in us girls long after the elementary playground days of whose friend is whose; and, you move past the childhood jealousy of the other gaining new friends and spending more time with them. You move into that realm of friendship where there is no passage of time, when a call to chat is the same as if you spoke to her two days or two weeks ago, not two months or more. And when time changes so many things in this world around us, it is comforting to know that some things, some people, really don't change. We get older, we take one more and more "stuff" to keep us busy and to introduce to new people, but we are the person we have always been. We are that friend on the playground back in elementary school that kept the note from an upset friend as a reminder that friendship is worth more than a cute boy with a contagious giggle and smile. Friendship is real and it will hold you together when your life seems to fall apart.
Friends will tell you, "girl, you totally screwed that one up" or "friend, you should have known better..." They will tell you with all of the hurt that honesty can bring and you will accept it as that - truth and honesty, not judgmental or bitter. And it feels so good to know that even though she is the friend I have known the "longest" that I have been blessed with many friends who are more than "friends" but are true lifelong friends that will be there. They will be there to laugh with and share the moments that life brings, good and bad. They will be there to say something off the wall to make me laugh or cry, and they will be there when I think all of life may fall apart around me; and they will tell me to say no, to slow down, or to go for it... And, well, today... Today I just feel lucky to have all these friends!
Thursday, February 7, 2008
Interesting Read...
Well I just finished my fifth book for the year! I think that has to be a record for me. I love to read, but usually just don't have the time, now my stock of yearly reading is beginning to dwindle already, time to go raid the reading shelves again...
The one I just finished is "The Five People You Meet in Heaven." I think this is a very interesting theory on the hereafter. How in the world He would pick the "five" people out of a lifetime of influence and memories is a tough one. I can't imagine who the five people in my life would be. I can think of five that I have shared the most memories with, and I can definitely think of five that I love "the most" (this could be hard to narrow down to five since I come from a very large family), and I could think of five who I've had "special" moments with. But I can't decide which would be the most important... I guess that is why (if this was the case in the hereafter, which we won't know until, well, we're there) He chooses the five people for us.
Anyway, if you haven't read it, I would recommend it. It's a quick read and intriguing. It made me think about all the people that I may have had some profound effect on, maybe without even realizing it at the time. It also makes you look at the strangers around you differently. Are you having some effect on them at this very moment? Is there something you are missing that maybe you are or are not supposed to see?
Now, onto another book... have to see what other intriguing source of literature I can get my hands on next.
The one I just finished is "The Five People You Meet in Heaven." I think this is a very interesting theory on the hereafter. How in the world He would pick the "five" people out of a lifetime of influence and memories is a tough one. I can't imagine who the five people in my life would be. I can think of five that I have shared the most memories with, and I can definitely think of five that I love "the most" (this could be hard to narrow down to five since I come from a very large family), and I could think of five who I've had "special" moments with. But I can't decide which would be the most important... I guess that is why (if this was the case in the hereafter, which we won't know until, well, we're there) He chooses the five people for us.
Anyway, if you haven't read it, I would recommend it. It's a quick read and intriguing. It made me think about all the people that I may have had some profound effect on, maybe without even realizing it at the time. It also makes you look at the strangers around you differently. Are you having some effect on them at this very moment? Is there something you are missing that maybe you are or are not supposed to see?
Now, onto another book... have to see what other intriguing source of literature I can get my hands on next.
Tuesday, February 5, 2008
Gotta Have Faith
"Faith is not belief without proof, but trust without reservation." D. Elton Trueblood
I have seen people that have that Faith that you hear about, the Faith that we all long for, the Faith that really can move mountains. Whether they are mountains in your personal life, your spiritual life or your work life. I have mountains, lots of mountains. And my problem is that I don't have Faith. I have Faith... but it is hard for me to have REAL faith. To let all my troubles and burdens rest solely on Him, that is hard for me to do. I want to try and fix everything. I want to be the one deciding who, what, when and where. I want to be in control.
Lately, I have felt that I need to have Faith. I need to let Him have control and I need to trust that once He is in the drivers seat that all will go well... that I don't have to be that "backseat" driver trying to tell him how to do his job and that He forgot to turn the lights on so that I can see where we are going. I have ran into quotes and emails, songs, stories, etc... all telling me to have Faith.
So, I'm trying, I'm really trying to let go and to let him take the wheel. I know it could only cause one heck of a wreck if He's driving down the road of my life and I decide to jerk the wheel out of his hands because I think he missed a turn. I'd end up causing one big accident and hitting a tree or worse on the side of the road where I thought I was supposed to be.
Faith... it seems so easy when you think about it. It's not, I find that I am constantly telling myself to let go... to relax and loosen my grip on the controls, cuz' you gotta have Faith...
I have seen people that have that Faith that you hear about, the Faith that we all long for, the Faith that really can move mountains. Whether they are mountains in your personal life, your spiritual life or your work life. I have mountains, lots of mountains. And my problem is that I don't have Faith. I have Faith... but it is hard for me to have REAL faith. To let all my troubles and burdens rest solely on Him, that is hard for me to do. I want to try and fix everything. I want to be the one deciding who, what, when and where. I want to be in control.
Lately, I have felt that I need to have Faith. I need to let Him have control and I need to trust that once He is in the drivers seat that all will go well... that I don't have to be that "backseat" driver trying to tell him how to do his job and that He forgot to turn the lights on so that I can see where we are going. I have ran into quotes and emails, songs, stories, etc... all telling me to have Faith.
So, I'm trying, I'm really trying to let go and to let him take the wheel. I know it could only cause one heck of a wreck if He's driving down the road of my life and I decide to jerk the wheel out of his hands because I think he missed a turn. I'd end up causing one big accident and hitting a tree or worse on the side of the road where I thought I was supposed to be.
Faith... it seems so easy when you think about it. It's not, I find that I am constantly telling myself to let go... to relax and loosen my grip on the controls, cuz' you gotta have Faith...
Tuesday, January 29, 2008
Hope
There is always that moment, that moment when it feels like the world may crash and burn around you, and me, I could not get lucky enough to be left standing. I would be be crashed and burned with it, left helpless with some twisted deformity that would forever remind me of how bad that crash and burn was. But just when I think I am there, just when I think that life could get no worse, or that I could not possibly find one more "thing" to add to my amazing pile of crap to do... Just then, at that exact point when I feel the grasp of control start to slip from my white-knuckled grip, I see it. Right beyond the horizon peeking at me from behind the storm clouds of despair, there it is, that bright ray of hope that just peeks out enough to show a glimmer of the edges.
That tiny ray of hope, could be that cut the oxygen off neck squeeze from my youngest as he says, "I love you with all my heart;" maybe it's the laughter of my daughter while she watches some show on tv that reveals that "almost" teenager in her, or maybe it's that quiet sneak of a smirk that my oldest will give me when he knows he is so aggravating and cute at the same time, or, maybe it's that touch from my husband that after 13 years is still there. It's family and it's home that hold hope. And I know, "with all my heart" as Robby likes to say, that beyond the overwhelming schedules and the overdue bills and the over the top expectations that we place on ourselves, that my family and my home is my hope.
They are the ray of sunshine that peeks at me sometimes just long enough to let me catch my breath and take in a great big sigh of relief, and other times, they let me bask in their full warmth and sunshine for hours on end, whether it's sitting and watching our favorite show together or playing in the snow, or showing me their latest creations that was sure to create some sort of havoc on my house. But whatever it is, that gift of hope comes from them, it comes from the smiles on their faces, the laughter in their hearts and the love that they give me everyday, regardless of whether I'm tired or moody, or running around like the crazed overbooked person I let myself be way too often. They bring me hope. And, I will thank God everyday that I have them to bring me back from my crash and burn nightmares and surround me with love amidst the craziness that is life.
That tiny ray of hope, could be that cut the oxygen off neck squeeze from my youngest as he says, "I love you with all my heart;" maybe it's the laughter of my daughter while she watches some show on tv that reveals that "almost" teenager in her, or maybe it's that quiet sneak of a smirk that my oldest will give me when he knows he is so aggravating and cute at the same time, or, maybe it's that touch from my husband that after 13 years is still there. It's family and it's home that hold hope. And I know, "with all my heart" as Robby likes to say, that beyond the overwhelming schedules and the overdue bills and the over the top expectations that we place on ourselves, that my family and my home is my hope.
They are the ray of sunshine that peeks at me sometimes just long enough to let me catch my breath and take in a great big sigh of relief, and other times, they let me bask in their full warmth and sunshine for hours on end, whether it's sitting and watching our favorite show together or playing in the snow, or showing me their latest creations that was sure to create some sort of havoc on my house. But whatever it is, that gift of hope comes from them, it comes from the smiles on their faces, the laughter in their hearts and the love that they give me everyday, regardless of whether I'm tired or moody, or running around like the crazed overbooked person I let myself be way too often. They bring me hope. And, I will thank God everyday that I have them to bring me back from my crash and burn nightmares and surround me with love amidst the craziness that is life.
Tuesday, January 15, 2008
God-Sightings
An amazing eulogy, given by a 19 year old nephew to his aunt, has been on my mind for over a week now. His eulogy was so touching in many ways; however, the reason it has been “haunting” me is simply that it opened my eyes. He spoke of “God-sightings” and how his aunt taught him about them. I had never even heard the phrase before, and in my busy little world, I, unfortunately, had not taken the time to enjoy them when I did experience them.
But this phrase, this term that I had never even heard has changed my world. His interpretation of “God-sightings” was seeing God in the everyday world. Glimpses of God, signs of his work, people doing his work, just seeing His name in a public area, etc… And since being introduced to this phrase, I have had my eyes opened. On the way home from work the following day I was following a Jeep with the license plate LUV4GOD. A couple nights later I was “vegging,” and watching my Thursday night trash TV. However, that trashy programming turned out to be “God-sightings” right there on my television that left me a weeping mess of a viewer. My soapish, Grey’s Anatomy, was about the power of faith healers and how just having faith makes you “feel better.” The song on the radio this morning telling me to "open my heart and mind..." and the words of my almost 4 year old telling me "God likes it when we are nice to people." The crosses I pass on the side of the road everyday to mark the lives lost by someone in an auto accident.
Then there’s those normal little occurrences that have probably occurred many times, but I had never taken time to notice them as being “God-sightings.” The table full of men in the coffee shop being witnessed to by the local pastor; the good deeds that someone at work is doing for another without being asked in anyway; the support system of friends and family in times of need; the call from a friend just when you are feeling lost and alone, and the song on the radio with lyrics that touch your soul when you need it the most. All these little things that had never meant more to me than just religious symbols, are "God-sightings" and his hand in our lives letting us know that he is here.
But this phrase, this term that I had never even heard has changed my world. His interpretation of “God-sightings” was seeing God in the everyday world. Glimpses of God, signs of his work, people doing his work, just seeing His name in a public area, etc… And since being introduced to this phrase, I have had my eyes opened. On the way home from work the following day I was following a Jeep with the license plate LUV4GOD. A couple nights later I was “vegging,” and watching my Thursday night trash TV. However, that trashy programming turned out to be “God-sightings” right there on my television that left me a weeping mess of a viewer. My soapish, Grey’s Anatomy, was about the power of faith healers and how just having faith makes you “feel better.” The song on the radio this morning telling me to "open my heart and mind..." and the words of my almost 4 year old telling me "God likes it when we are nice to people." The crosses I pass on the side of the road everyday to mark the lives lost by someone in an auto accident.
Then there’s those normal little occurrences that have probably occurred many times, but I had never taken time to notice them as being “God-sightings.” The table full of men in the coffee shop being witnessed to by the local pastor; the good deeds that someone at work is doing for another without being asked in anyway; the support system of friends and family in times of need; the call from a friend just when you are feeling lost and alone, and the song on the radio with lyrics that touch your soul when you need it the most. All these little things that had never meant more to me than just religious symbols, are "God-sightings" and his hand in our lives letting us know that he is here.
Tuesday, January 8, 2008
A Child's Prayer
I really try to practice my faith, and pray for those that I know are in need. Sometimes, as I admit I am far from perfect, I simply get too busy in my own world to think about those around me needing something. Then, when we least expect it, God snaps those fingers of his and brings us right back to attention. My friend's family, who is coping with the loss of their sister, daughter and aunt, have been on my mind this week. I have said prayers for them, but at the visitation tonight they had her sister's "Prayer Board". The list is amazing. She prayed for these people daily and it wasn't any small list by any means.
And then, tonight, when I'm trying to get the kids to hurry and get in bed, and quick say your prayers... Then, it hits me, while my oldest says a nice, long, extra prayer for this family, my heart sinks and melts at the same time. I'm blessed and awed that I have such a wonderful child, and shamed for trying to rush him through his prayers.
Why is it that as adults we are always in such a hurry. Why can't I be more "childlike"... not watching the clock, not rushing the bedtime, not missing a single person on that prayer board. Why can't I have their faith and hope that God will make us all happy. It isn't the lifestyle, the paycheck or the extras that make us happy. It's the little things. It's the million things that I miss all the time that bring us happiness. The things I miss by not slowing down to savor the moment. And it's not taking that extra second to just say a prayer "just" for someone's happiness. Because as my son prayed tonight, "just help them be happy."
And then, tonight, when I'm trying to get the kids to hurry and get in bed, and quick say your prayers... Then, it hits me, while my oldest says a nice, long, extra prayer for this family, my heart sinks and melts at the same time. I'm blessed and awed that I have such a wonderful child, and shamed for trying to rush him through his prayers.
Why is it that as adults we are always in such a hurry. Why can't I be more "childlike"... not watching the clock, not rushing the bedtime, not missing a single person on that prayer board. Why can't I have their faith and hope that God will make us all happy. It isn't the lifestyle, the paycheck or the extras that make us happy. It's the little things. It's the million things that I miss all the time that bring us happiness. The things I miss by not slowing down to savor the moment. And it's not taking that extra second to just say a prayer "just" for someone's happiness. Because as my son prayed tonight, "just help them be happy."
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