Pruning, Perspective and 31 Days to Being a Real Writer

Day 13

Beautiful Saturday. Great day to do yard work.

I am grateful to have a lovely yard and the physical ability to maintain it. That is a huge blessing and I know it.

Yard work is a pleasant way for me to enjoy the sun, play in the dirt, enjoy having the dogs running around me.

Spring clean-up is nice because it signals the beginning of nice weather. Summer maintenance is tolerable because the gardens look so nice when they are clean and weed-free.

October chores are different. Pruning, separating perennials, moving some plants inside...none of that says "FUN" to me.

Perhaps it is because the season is ending. Cutting the gardens down to nothing and knowing they will soon be covered with snow gives me no satisfaction. Necessary change of seasons blah blah. It still isn't fun.

That is the mindset I had when I headed out today.

Somewhere in the sun and clippings and barking, my perspective changed.

Certainly the clean, albeit bare, gardens look better than they did filled with brown leaves and dead stems.

So maybe I am like that too? No maybes about it. I need to be pruned and I look better when it is done.

How about you?

Isn't it interesting that when plants are growing wild, we prune them to get the growth under control - and when plants aren't growing, we prune them to encourage new growth.

Pruning - the all around cure.

It works the same way for me.

Sometimes I get out of control. I know, it's hard to believe! My plans, thoughts, energies become scattered.

Pruning is necessary, lest I become like the vinca in my back flower garden - spreading in every direction but producing no flowers, growing in places I don't belong.

Sometimes I get lackadaisical, content with mediocrity...or worse, full of myself, counting on my own strength.

Pruning is necessary, lest I become like my Wandering Jew - stems that hang down and look healthy, but are thin and nearly dead at the root.

How about you? Do you need pruning to stimulate or control?

I am diligent about weeding. It is one of my favorite activities when I am having a blank moment while writing. So imagine my surprise when today's pruning revealed weeds. Big ones that have been there for some time.    

The past three years have been a period of tremendous pruning for me. I often ask God (or demand or scream about) what else I possibly need to give up or learn.

Then another branch comes off and I see a weed.

How about you? Do you learn more in periods of loss? Yeah, most of us do.

I still don't like pruning. There are thorn pricks in two fingers and one thumb is sore because a hard stem shoved itself under the nail. OUCH.

But, at least I have a better perspective. Which is good because I am only half done.

And it seems likely God has more pruning to do on me. Seasonally, just like my flower gardens.

You too, maybe?

We will talk again tomorrow...

BP

During the month of October I am participating in the 31 Days Challenge hosted by the Nester.
And if you want to be sure not to miss any of my posts this month,
you can subscribe to get them emailed to you daily for free!

Missing Grandma and 31 Days to Being a Real Writer

Day 12

On this date 28 years ago, I awoke and prepared for work. The day was much like this one...sunny and crisp.

I was living with my grandmother, as she had congestive heart failure and had suffered a stroke several months earlier.

Thursday had been an unusual one. Grandma wanted to make City Chicken and an apple pie. She called my cousin Kathy and my Mom to invite them for supper. She hadn't wanted to cook for months. The meal was delightful, and she enjoyed the company.

Friday morning I checked on her before getting in the shower. She seemed fine.

By the time I was done showering, she was congested, not breathing well at all. If you have been in the presence of someone with CHF, you know the distinctive sound that is made when the patient can't breath...like a frantic hiccup...gurgling...a sound I can still hear. I started for the phone to call 9-1-1. She shook her head and motioned for me to come to her side.

I called my aunt who lived across the street. She called for the ambulance, then came to be with us.

For the next few minutes we held her hands, watching her slip from this world to the next.

I was nearly 25, and she had been one of the most significant people in my life. I had lived with her for five months, knowing this would happen at some point, but not really accepting it.

What I had no way of knowing is that 28 years later I would still think of her daily, still hear her voice, still seek her help, still miss her every time I watched the Pirates.

"The Surge" - that's what medical professionals call a day like we had on Thursday. In hindsight, it made sense. October 10 is my grandfather's birthday. In 1984, he had been gone for 31 years, and I'm sure Grandma missed him terribly. I will always believe that as Wednesday Oct 10 passed, she willed herself to have one more good day. On Thursday she cooked, baked, saw several members of her family. And on Friday, she gave up. She was ready to be done with sickness, ready to be with her beloved Joe, just ready.

Grandma despised the condition of her body after the stroke. Unable to walk well, little use of her right/dominant side, spending much of her time attached to an oxygen tank. She wasn't silent about her unhappiness. At the  age of 24, I sometimes took that personally, felt she didn't appreciate my help. Now I understand that it must be difficult to depend on a person whose diapers you once changed.

I didn't take advantage of that time to ask her questions about her life, questions about Grandpa, questions only she could answer. I didn't sit with her as much as I could have.

But there was a lot of sweetness. Listening to her visit with friends. Turning to see her smiling as she listened to me sing old hymns while I cleaned or cooked. Saying, "I love you, Gram" before I went upstairs to bed and hearing her say, "I love you, too, Honey."

Hard to believe it has been 28 years. Seems like a minute...and a lifetime.

It's like that when we miss someone, isn't it?

I think about the depth of my grief at that time. I think about how my perspective has changed.

Death no longer frightens me.

You might read that and think death doesn't faze me, doesn't alter me. Of course it does. I don't want people I love to die. Passing of loved ones rips at my heart, but it doesn't shake my foundation. 

Death is not the end that I thought it was in 1984. Do I wish I could sit down to a meal with Grandma, Patty-Jo, Christopher, and other loved ones who have passed? Yes, of course. Would give anything for that chance.

They aren't here to touch, but they aren't gone either.

And what I know for sure is that as we stood at Grandma's bedside watching her go, my grandfather was on the other side waiting with glee.

As we stood at the funeral home, as we wept at the graveside, she was at the banquet table of God, celebrating as she never had before.

In the past three years, as I have traveled through a dark abyss, I have often felt my grandmother very near. I have heard her voice telling me to take another step. I hear her saying everything will be fine.

I know all this will pass...this valley, this difficulty, indeed this life. I know I will see her again. I do know.

Until then, I will continue to miss her.

And each night I will say, "Goodnight, Gram" and I will hear, "I love you too, honey."

We will talk again tomorrow.

BP

Thoughts of Leaving and 31 Days to Being a Real Writer

Day 9

I am thinking today of a conversation from a couple months ago. Like me, the friend with whom I was speaking has been going through a drawn-out, difficult issue.

We spoke of how it feels to have every part of our lives affected, either directly or indirectly. Of how everyone in our lives has paid a price, even if they are unaware of the situation.

She told me about days when she truly felt as if she could not go one any longer. I feel compelled to share what she said because it struck me hard, and made me wonder how many others feel this way.

My friend spoke of waking on certain mornings and thinking it might be her last day. She goes about her business, doing what is required of her, but with an ongoing thought that she would never repeat that action.

She looks at trees and a beautiful sky with renewed appreciation.

She watches people play with their children or walk their dogs, and she wants to stop and tell them how precious those moments are.

She talks to people, but is secretly wondering how each of them would feel if they found out tomorrow that she was gone. Her family. Her friends. Her coworkers. Will they be surprised? Angry? Disappointed?

My friend knows she can call her therapist at any time...and sometimes she does. But there are days when she simply wants to be gone.

What struck me is how often she thinks about it, all the while putting one foot in front of the other, getting through a day.

She never makes a concrete plan for going, although there are times when she tells herself if she can just make it a couple more days, if she can just fulfill a couple commitments, then maybe she will leave.

Two things struck me about this conversation. First is the incredible strength my friend has. The pressure of her situation is so great that she is often in tears when she lays down at night and again five minutes after waking.

Yet she successfully maneuvers through her day. She maintains a home, shops, cares for an aging parent, volunteers, works - all the time dragging around a stone that is threatening her existence.

The second thing that strikes me is how little we know about the people around us. My friend doesn't wear her struggle like a badge. She rarely tells anyone she thinks about being gone.

She smiles at store clerks, leaves great tips, is friendly in traffic. She is affable and hard-working. She loves to make people laugh.

But underneath, she carries this heavy thought. And no one knows.

How many folks are there in her shoes?

Are we open to seeing people's pain?

Do we look in their eyes?

Do we judge without knowing the circumstance?

This world is full of hurting people. My friend is one of them.

And often we don't have any idea the depth of that pain.

I am not naive enough to say we should be sweet, hold hands and sing Kumbaya, and the world would be better.

Given what my friend told me, she would no doubt be singing loudly, all the while in pain.

I don't have a solution...didn't expect to have one when I started the piece.

I simply felt the need to share.

Maybe you are like my friend - amazingly strong, very susceptible. Blessings to you and prayers for continued strength to hold on until the resolution comes.

If you aren't that person, there is a reason you are still reading this post.

I would ask you to open your mind and heart, pray, about if there is someone in your life that needs an encouraging word.

People are close to the edge. We may not always see it clearly, but they are there, hanging on...not knowing if they have the strength or desire to continue.

Will you join me in being open to peoples' hurts? I hope so.

We will talk tomorrow...

BP :)

Cramming, Excellence and 31 Days to Being a Real Writer

Day 6...and 7...and 8

Wow. Very busy long weekend. A friend is visiting from out of state and we have run run run since Thursday, which has left me three blogs behind.

And today I got a new phone...another BIG distraction.

So today I am thinking about  maintaining a schedule, choosing to abide by it,  and dealing with guilt if the schedule goes awry.

It happens to all of us, doesn't it? We begin a project/diet/exercise program/behavior modification, and for the first few days we do well. The life comes harder and faster than we thought.

I suppose this is a great test for my commitment to "31 Days to being a Real Writer." Can I make time each day to do some writing, put aside at least an hour to put some thoughts to paper? And if I don't, does it sidetrack me so much that I don't continue?

That has been my story in the past. Big start, good run until something interrupts, then fizzle.

I haven't always had confidence in my abilities, and when a glitch appeared, when something didn't go as planned, it would be an out, a justification for "See, I knew I couldn't do it!"

Have you ever done that? Given yourself an excuse for failure. Dropped a commitment at the first stumble. Decided it was easier to quit than press on.

Yeah, me too. More than once. And it has cost me.

But it has taught great lessons.

Now, I ask myself this question at least once a day: Am I being excellent?

Sometimes I don't ask, but it comes as a still, small voice: "This is not what excellence looks like."

It is similar to the nudge God gives me when I am about to be disobedient or do something dumb.

Do you know that nudge?

So I have missed a few days. And I feel conviction when I think about my friends who have not missed any.

But it's fine. Tomorrow is a new day to start again.

Maybe you have something you would like to start again.

Join me. We can climb past the schedule monster who is chasing us, and the guilt monster who sees others NOT failing EVER, and the "I told you so" monster who wants us to quit.

We'll show them...and ourselves!!

We will  talk tomorrow...

BP :) 

Excellence, Greek philosophers and 31 Days to Being a Real Writer

Day 5

This has been a challenge the past few days as I have been away from my laptop and unable to post directly to Hubpages or Blogger from my ipad. Perhaps I am remedial? So forgive my Friday, Day 5 delay.

I am thinking today about excellence.

No doubt we each have our own ideas about what it means to be excellent.

Should we strive to be excellent in everything we do or pick and choose so as not to become obsessive/compulsive?

Is there a grading curve for excellence with ability as a consideration?

Should we expect excellence from others or better yet, is there a time we should not demand excellence?

All great questions for which I have no answers.

I once heard my friend Linda Kalafatis challenge her softball players to "be excellent. EXCELLENT. Today and every day."

As one of the 50 best coaches in NCAA, Linda knows excellence. Linda's fellow Greek philosopher, Aristotle said excellence is not an act, but a habit.

Those words ring true for me because I believe excellence is not a way to DO anything, but rather, a way to BE.

Excellence is an attitude.

Excellence is a condition of the heart.

Excellence is a choice - daily, hourly.

I haven't always chosen excellence. Haven't even always understood it.

Part of being excellent is knowing what you want to be, what vision you have for life, and being able to steadily move forward even on the worst days.

Until a few years ago, I didn't have a plan. I hoped things in my life would be get better, wanted them to get better, was sometimes angry when they didn't - even though I had no plan.

It is hard to make a bulls-eye when there is no target, isn't it?

Now I have a plan, and the pursuit of excellence is important to me. And exciting.

Excellence, for me, isn't a competition with others, only with myself.

It is an effort to go to bed a better person than I was when I got up.

It is complaining less, praising more.

It is judging less, encouraging more.

Excellence, for me, is defying the "I don't feel like it" voices and doing _____ anyway. (Insert cleaning, laundry, exercise, good food choices, etc)

It is turning off mindless television and opening a good book (THE Good Book?)

It is keeping commitments when I am tired or feeling weighed down. If you have been tracking with me for any amount of time, you know I am waiting for resolution to a long-standing issues. The footprint it has left on my life is long and broad. Many days I feel like being excellent a anything would take far more energy than I can muster.

Admittedly, I have not won every battle. Some days simply being willing to make an attempt equals excellence for me. But I press on.

How about you? Maybe you have some of wisdom about maintaining excellence in the toughest moments and circumstances. I would love to hear them.

We will talk again soon.

Until then...be excellent!

BP :)

Five Minute Friday: WELCOME

Here are the rules for 5 Minute Friday:

1. Write for 5 minutes flat – no editing, no over thinking, no backtracking.
2. Link back here and invite others to join in. http://lisajobaker.com/2012/10/31-days-write-story-day-5-five-minute-friday-welcome/
3. And then absolutely, no ifs, ands or buts about it, you need to visit the person who linked up before you & encourage them in their comments. Seriously. That is, like, the rule. And the fun. And the heart of this community..

Today's word is WELCOME

Interesting that today's word is WELCOME because I had recently run across the etymology of the word.

It's good to explore the meaning of words and phrases. Sometimes we find a meaning we had not anticipated or considered.

We often see "Welcome" on door mats. This is appropriate, as the origin of the word is from an Old English word wilcuma, which means "one whose coming is in accordance with another's will" or "one whose coming brings pleasure."

I certainly would hope to be welcome in the homes and lives of others. So I ask myself, "Is my coming pleasurable?"

I have a nightshirt that says' "I am one big freakin' ray of sun!" Is it true? Am I a ray of warming sunshine or a thundercloud?

How about you?

And does my home and the personal area in which I walk through my day a welcoming one? Is it comforting or caustic?

How about yours?

We get to choose.

What? Circumstances, you say? Others' behavior, you say?

WRONG, I say.

We get to choose. Every hour, every day, every encounter.

Today I choose wilcuma. I choose to be one big freakin' ray of sun.

Will you join me?

Power of Words, French Toast, and 31 Days to Being a Real Writer

Day 4. Written late on 10/4...unable to post until now

Busy day. I have been working on a piece,but clearly, at this point, it is not going to be done today.

Right now (10:45pm) I am sitting in Eat N' Park (for non-Pittsburghers, it is a 24 hour restaurant chain), drinking coffee and waiting to pick up a friend at the airport. 11:30pm arrival. What kind of nonsense is that?

So I am thinking about the power of words. It is an important topic which will be discussed at length sometime during this October project. But today I just want to plant a seed.

You know how you sometimes want something little to eat, just a snack, not sure what, aren't really hungry just want a nibble? You get it. I wanted coffee - the airport is an hour from home - and a bite. Just couldn't put a finger on what. When Anthony, my very nice waiter brought coffee, he offered to answer any questions I had about the menu. I told him the only question I had was, "What do I want to eat?"

Without hesitation, he said, "French Toast Smile with bacon!" then walked away to give me more time.
I looked over the menu, but all I could hear in my head was "French Toast Smile" - which, by the way, I have never ordered.
Anthony laughed when I placed my French Toast Smile order. But once he said it, especially with such conviction, it was all I could see on the menu.

Obviously, this was not a life altering decision. And you might discount the importance of a late night meal choice. But here is the truth - words are powerful, and that power cannot distinguish between important decisions and unimportant ones.
Words you say stick in people's heads, affect their thought processes, may alter decisions they make.
Words you allow into your head affect you in the same way.

Will you do this with me...will you think about this for the next few days?
Think about the words you choose and the tone you use.  How may those words affect people?

Think about the words you allow in. The television shows you watch, the conversations you join, the thoughts you entertain. Notice how much you complain or bean your circumstances. How may those words affect you?

I will do the same.
We will talk again about this soon.

Back to my French Toast...
BP :)

Coinkydinks and 31 Days to Being a Real Writer, Day 3

Day 3

In late September I began marking an October calendar with ideas for this project. Apparently concerned that my idea well might be dry on a given day.  As I told my friend  and fellow blogger Amy,  

( thepentriloquist.blogspot.com ) when I looked at my note for Oct 1,  all it said was, "pasta noodles"

If you see a post this month about pasta noodles, you'll know I remembered what that note meant.

I like to let ideas simmer a little in my head before the writing begins.  So while this one was rolling around, I jumped on Facebook. The very first post I saw was an e-card that stated my idea, only with a nice font and pretty colors.

That's cool for a couple reasons. First, because it just is. Don't you agree? Fun coinkydink, right?

Second, because that is my topic today. Coincidence. Randomness. My lack of belief in either.

The e-card said, "We do not meet people by accident. They are meant to cross our path for a reason."

Not sure how you feel about that, but I fully agree. Just like I do not believe anything is a surprise to God, I also do not believe in coincidence.

This post is not going to delve into theological or physics theories. The topic is not whether I believe in coincidence and why or why not?

The topic is how I live in response to that.

So I will say this again - I believe there is a reason for every person/situation/circumstance which enters my life.

I wish I could say that purpose is always abundantly clear.

I wish I could say I am present enough to be aware if the purpose is clear.

Presence. I need to work on it.

Openness to new experiences. I need to work on that as well.

Acceptance of the present circumstances as, perhaps, a lesson that will benefit me. OUCH. Big work needed.

Do you need any work in these areas? No? Just me?

It has been said that if you think about a dream, a desire, a person every day, it is safe to say that person or dream has a place in your life.

The dreams I had when I was 10, the ones I played out when I was alone, are essentially the same dreams I have today.

Well, not the one about being a Major League baseball player.

So why do I downplay those dreams that were put on my heart so many years ago?

Why do you?

We aren't given dreams and desires in a whim, with no hope of them coming true. It doesn't work that way.

It's the same with people.

I wrote a piece last November when the Sandusky scandal broke open. 20,000 people read it. A few of them have become friends.

Sure, we share a love of Penn State. So do 600,000 other alumni. But I believe there is a reason for meeting every single one of these folks. I don't know what it is, and I don't sit around pondering or being gooey about it. I simply know it is true. No coincidence.

How often have you started to dial a number, and the person calls you at the same time? Or you get on the computer to send an email and find an email waiting for you from that person? Not a coincidence.

Life tells us things and, very often, we are too busy to listen. Or we cast them off as coincidence or random events.

 Life brings people across our path and, very often, we are too busy or too closed to embrace them.

Why?

Are we so adept at knowing how life operates and what we need that we discount the unexpected as a coincidence?

Are we so sure we already have enough friends - the right friends - that we pass over people?

I have been guilty of this.

How about you? Do you think you might have missed something or someone because you weren't present or open to something new.

Let's try an experiment. Let's be present and open to what the moment is saying, without judgment. Let's be open to people who cross our path, without judgment.

Maybe we will be surprised by dreams that have been right in front of us, waiting to be reached.

Maybe we will be surprised by someone we had discounted or kept out of our life.

Maybe we will be surprised by the relief of accepting present circumstances and seeking lessons.

Will you join me? I hope so.

See you tomorrow - Day 4. Maybe we will talk about pasta noodles!

BP :)

Change of plans, Mr Sparks, and 31 Days to Being a "Real' Writer

Day 2 in my October adventure. 31 Days to Being a "Real" Writer.

Today is also my beloved friend's birthday. So, in honor of Greg Sparks, I am changing the plans I had for this post. If you know Greg, you know the change of plans is apropos!

Here is Greg's Facebook status update: If you would, instead of just saying Happy Birthday, which I welcome, mention some memory you have that we either shared, or you have of me. Only because my mind can't contain all the wonderful events of 54 years, and I need reminders of what, when, where, and who.

Who is Greg Sparks to me? He and his beautiful wife Rebecca are the worship leaders at Crossfire and I am blessed to sing with them.  Their music and ministry has touched my heart since I first saw them in concert 15 years ago.

But those words are insufficient.

To know Greg Sparks as a Christian brother is to be blessed and challenged and humored in the same instance.

Greg is at once beautifully simple (in the best way) and astoundingly complex (in the best way).  

His musical abilities are nothing short of genius. He can arrange harmonies and instrumental parts for the entire band on a whim...and in the next moment forget what song we are working on.

On Sunday morning, he drives 50 minutes, creates a whirlwind rehearsing 5 songs with the band, working on the lights and sound board, rushing rushing rushing right up to 9:45am. But when the service starts, when he is worshiping God, Greg can sing a song or speak a word that penetrates cold hearts and brings people to the throne of the Almighty.

Greg is firm in his beliefs, but never a tyrant. I love that about him.

Greg has the fire of God's love in his heart, and he always uses it for good. I don't know anyone more willing to help a person in need, more willing to reach out to those who have been marginalized by society. He doesn't (like many other Christians) use the fire to burn people, but to create warmth that draws them into God's family.  I love that about him.

No one could ever question how much Greg Sparks loves his wife and adores his children. He talks openly about it . More importantly, he lives it. He extends that love, loyalty, and protection to his friends. I love that about him.

Greg seems to exist in a place where people's idiosyncrasies are non-existent. He isn't bothered by things that irritate most of us. I am astounded by that. And when I want him to share irritation and he doesn't, I am frustrated by it. But in the end, I love that about him.

Is living with him a piece of cake? I doubt it. Rebecca will probably confirm that a musical genius with ADD who wants to stop and help everyone in need but can't ever find his glasses is not, in fact, a piece of cake.

More like a banana split...some hot stuff, some cold stuff, lots of flavor, a little fruit.

Greg Sparks is self-effacing, funny, supremely comfortable in his own skin, funny when he doesn't mean to be, a loving husband/father/grandfather/brother/friend.

And I love that about him.

Happy Birthday, Greg!

May God bless us all by giving you many more years.

And thanks for challenging me by changing my writing plan today. "Real" writers can adept to new topics quickly!

To my 31 readers...we will talk again soon.

BP :)

Father Hopko and an October of Discipline

I play this game at night - maybe you do too. I say I am going to get out of bed the first time I feel awake. Not when I turn over to see the clock at 1:34, but really awake enough to put my feet on the floor.

Then it happens, like it did this morning at 4:41, and I'm all "WHOA too early!" 

Have you been there?

If you have been tracking with me, you know I am walking through Father Thomas Hopko's 50 Maxims For Christian Living. Sauntering might be more appropriate.

The third maxim is: Have a keepable rule of prayer done by discipline.

Simple enough, isn't it?

Except for the discipline part. I struggle with discipline. Always have. Don't like it.

That lack of discipline is insidious...and slowly, steadily destructive.

I start out the day with excellent intentions, but other stuff jumps in the way.

Does that happen to you?

Today becomes tomorrow, next week, next year...and I haven't lost the weight, written the book, sold the junk, blah blah blah.

I know I have missed opportunities because of this lack of discipline. Maybe you have as well?

Have a keepable rule of prayer done by discipline.

Okay, Father Hopko, I will take that challenge.

October - 31 Days of Writing...31 Days of Disciplined Prayer.

I am believing that other disciplines will fall in place as a result.

Join me on this journey, won't you?

We will talk tomorrow!

BP :)

31 Days to Being a "Real" Writer - Introduction

When people ask what I do for a living, I tell them I am a writer. And I am.

But sometimes I have trouble convincing the doubting voice in my head.

"You might write, but you are not a writer"

You may have heard this voice saying something besides "writer" in your head?

When I came across The Nester (thenester.com) and a challenge to write every day in October, it felt like a test, a way to morph into a place where I am writing and posting every day. Because that's what writers do - they write.

Not sit and stare until the "perfect" words come. Just write it out and find the perfect words somewhere in the pile.

So I am committed. Perhaps something in my words this month will inspire you to recommit to your dreams.

First installment to follow shortly.

BP :)

Five Minute Friday: GRASP

Here is the premise:
1. Write for 5 minutes flat – no editing, no over thinking, no backtracking.
2. Link back here and invite others to join in.

3. And then absolutely, no ifs, ands or buts about it, you need to visit the person who linked up before you & encourage them in their comments. Seriously. That is, like, the rule. And the fun. And the heart of this community..

The word is given. GRASP

First the desperate thoughts. Grasping onto...Grasping at straws.

Then I am reminded...Ephesisans 3:20. The One who is at work within us can do abundantly, amazingly more than we can ever dare to hope or dream.

Do I get that? Do you?

Anything I can grasp as possible in my mind, He can do better.

I see BIG dreams - the ability to reach and help lots of people through blogs and books and motivational speaking. But what does He see? What is His purpose?

Sometimes that lack of knowing turns my grasping into frustration. His timing is not the same as mine. His ways are higher, and often unseen.

I grasp to hang on to the dreams...and He shakes His head because there is SO MUCH MORE coming.

I hear Him saying, "Don't grasp to things you see just to hang on - GRASP on to Me, to dreams, to My Promises. Let go of what you think is secure and FLY!"

I'm going to try His way today. How about you? What are you grasping onto today?

Foot stomping, Garth Brooks and a bag on my head

I am a bit grumpy today.

Slept too long. I tell myself it is the ongoing stress addressed in past blogs. But really, it is a lack of discipline. I admit it. We will discuss that in a subsequent blog.

But I am also grumpy because a couple things aren't working out as I thought they would.

As per normal for the past 2.5 years, I wanted the financial resolution to be finalized by now. It isn't. And for reasons beyond my comprehension, my foot stomping isn't changing anything!!

Now I am planning an event that is not taking the shape the way I pictured.  And for reasons beyond my comprehension, my foot stomping isn't changing anything!!

HMMMPPPPHHHH!!!

Then the still, small Voice comes: It isn't about you.

What?

It isn't about you.

I don't understand what you are saying!

It isn't about you.

WHAT????

It really isn't it. Once again.

First: HMMMPPPPHHHH!!!

Second: Reflection

I can, in a second, name four people I love who are fighting cancer/blood disorders.

Nancy, my dear dear friend, in treatment for a second battle with ovarian cancer.

David, in chemo right this minute for lymphoma. His willingness to be an instrument for God's words has changed my life, and made our church and city a better place.

Emily, fighter extraordinaire against leukemia. Her parents, grandparents, aunts, uncles have been my friends for 35 years, and are beloved members of our community.

Robin. Sweet Robin. Beloved by millions and as down to earth as your next door neighbor. Moving forward after a bone marrow transplant to eradicate MDS.

I think of others whose lives have been irrevocably changed.

Amy - her husband of 2 years gone to Jesus in a flash. Wondering why God chose her to walk this difficult, unwanted path of single parenthood? I pray for her daily.

Linda - 32 years with the same company which is now bankrupt. Wondering what to do after devoting her entire work life to one employer

LK - 16 years of giving her heart, soul and amazing gifts to a team and a University, only to be unceremoniously shown the door. Wondering what the next chapter holds, and if that can be found without uprooting her whole life and family?

I get caught in my own problems too easily. I neglect to think about the challenges others face. How about you?

I know it's not about me. I do know that. But sometimes, in the midst of doubt, it's hard to see a purpose. I am wired to want to understand. I think if I can know "why" it will be easier. It never is, but I cling to the thought.

And thinking it's about me isn't always motivated by abject selfishness. Fear of failure or loss, past hurts, insecurity can all contribute to this self-consumption.

Scratching my way out of the "what about me" bag is not always easy.

How about you? Do you get frantic like you are going to suffocate?  Scratching and clawing at anything in your path?

Or crazy like a cat with something stuck on her head, running backwards to try to get away, wreaking havoc as you go?

Most of us are not completely self-absorbed. So a short pity party isn't a big deal, right?

Wrong. At least for me.

Wrong, because this self-indulgence causes me to lose focus, and subsequently lose time. It is a demon that distracts from my goals.

This says it better:

You know a dream is like a river, Ever changin' as it flows 
And a dreamer's just a vessel that must follow where it goes 
Trying to learn from what's behind you and never knowing what's in store 
Makes each day a constant battle just to stay between the shores* 

I started this blog 6 days ago. Yes, there have been other tasks, other items needing my attention. But, there has also been the distraction of "what about me?"

The irony of focusing on "what about me" is that days slip away...and dreams don't like to wait. The river of life keeps moving, with or without my attention.  After a few hours/days, I finally tear the bag from my head and some of the scenery is unfamiliar. I am further downstream, maybe against some rocks, maybe tangled in weeds along the side. Lost time, additional work.

And yet, the scene in my boat looks the same. "What about me" hasn't helped change my situation at all.

When will I learn?

It isn't about me. The dreams I have, the journey to make them come true, the road I travel on that journey...none of it is about me.

The good that will come from those dreams, the people I feel compelled to help, the way my family will benefit...none of it is about me.

Do I get to participate and benefit? Absolutely. But it still isn't ABOUT me.

And when I think it is, when I think I should be able to control the river, when I fuss because the current isn't what I want or the path is not what I anticipated, the dreams are delayed.

How about you? Do you ever get caught up in the "What about me" bag? Does it help? Do you see good results?

Maybe you will join me in being more present, more aware of others, less concerned about me me ME.

Imagine what a difference we could make.

Imagine how far our dreams might advance.

Let's give it a try.

And I will sail my vessel 'Til the river runs dry 
Like a bird upon the wind These waters are my sky 
I'll never reach my destination If I never try 
So I will sail my vessel 'Til the river runs dry*

We will talk again soon...

BP :) 

*Garth Brooks/Veronica Shaw

Five Minute Friday: WIDE

1. Write for 5 minutes flat – no editing, no over thinking, no backtracking.
2. Link back here and invite others to join in.
3. And then absolutely, no ifs, ands or buts about it, you need to visit the person who linked up before you & encourage them in their comments. Seriously. That is, like, the rule. And the fun. And the heart of this community..

Today's word is WIDE

The first thought in my head is the children's song about God's love being Deep and Wide.

Of course, I know it is. It encompasses and covers me daily...hourly.

But other things are wide as well.

Fear.

Life's troubles.

Chaos.

That's the one that gets me today. Chaos all around and within. Maybe you are there as well?

Like a glass shattering on the floor. One minute clean, the next dangerous shards, visible and nearly invisible, in all directions.

Or maybe the chaos is not so wide. More like a tunnel. That's where I am now.

In the past, my advice to friends in challenging situations has been that we must walk/crawl/fight through the tunnel of chaos. It is the path to something better, with the other option being to retreat and see no change.

For me, the tunnel has been L-O-N-G, mostly dark, very wide, affecting everyone in my life - whether they know it or not.

But on this day, I trust and count on the WIDEness of God's mercy being a sea to this dark stream. I stand on His WIDE arms being strong enough to pull me from this tunnel of chaos. I look forward to being amazed by the WIDEness of  blessings ahead, and laughing at the misconception I have of what WIDE really means.

Santa, Jesus and increasing ugliness

Most days I have a few ideas for a blog. I wrestle with them, wait for them to jump out or line up with other thoughts.

But some days a topic is so clear...it's like coming down stairs and finding Santa came early!

Please understand - I don't write about politics. I write about real life, and politics is the polar opposite of real life.

I don't care about Mr. Romney's 47% comment. I really don't. His campaign manager probably does, but I don't.

Likewise, I understand the thought-process behind people wanting mandatory drug-testing for welfare recipients. I do get it. We think it is "fair" - as if anything in life is fair!

What troubles me is the loud Christian voice joining in to support these arguments. A presidential candidate implies that the 47% of Americans who paid no Federal income tax last year are irresponsible slackers who wait for government handouts and give no thought to their votes, and Christians cheer him on?

The numbers are wrong and the disparaging label is not upheld by the statistics. Very few of that 46% (not 47%) remotely fit the irresponsible slacker category. Many, in fact, work full time jobs but are still below the income requirement to pay federal taxes because of crazy deductions like children. Many others are already in the low income bracket and have deductions because they care for an elderly parent. Some are in a high income level and have found enough loopholes to prevent them from paying any taxes.

In the same way, statistics in every state where drug testing of welfare recipients was enacted shows the state spent more money administering the tests than was saved.          

I looked through all four Gospels this afternoon, and was unable to find a single time that Jesus judged a person before He helped or healed. The closest I see Him coming is in John 5 when He asks the man at the pool of Bethsada if he wants to get well? The man whines out some excuse, and Jesus heals him immediately and sends him on his way. No judgement. No lecture.

Jesus understands people, and he understands poverty. Most of us don't attempt to understand either. Fortunately for us, Jesus also understands human nature.

He understood it when His disciples wanted to send 5000 people off to find their own meal. Five loaves and 2 fish wasn't enough to feed them, let alone inciting a riot by feeding some of the crowd and not others. Their selfishness and fear overwhelmed any love they had for the people.

We're like that, aren't we? 

We say, "Well if I was ever in need, I wouldn't just sit around waiting for a hand-out," as if that makes us morally superior. We don't know the truth of the statistics, let alone know each story behind those statistics.

We judge what people with Access cards buy, promising ourselves that in the complete unlikelihood that we would ever share that circumstance, we would be much wiser shoppers. But we will never allow ourselves to be in that circumstance, will we?

We decide all assistance recipients are drug addicts because it makes us feel better than if we had to think some of those folks simply ran into hard times and can't quite find their way out.

We scoff at folks who comes to our church's weekly free dinner. Some of them are dirty and eat far too much. And we know they sneak food out. Then we decide others don't really look like they need a free meal - probably just moochers.

And while Jesus understands, it bugs me. I probably didn't have to spell that out.

I don't like to hear such talk from anyone, especially from Christians.

There is one reason I am who and what I am - the saving grace of Jesus. But for His grace and mercy, I could be homeless, friendless, destitute, a drug addict.  I could be a godless gazillionaire who would do anything for money, or an angry person who lashes out, or an insecure person who is offended by everything.

How about you, fellow Christian? Where would you be without God's saving grace?

Do I work hard? Of course I do. To honor the gifts He has given me. But I can't do anything on my own. And neither can you, fellow Christian.

That might be something to think before jumping again on the "those people are lazy, irresponsible slobs" bandwagon.

Words like that go directly against the same Bible that is used to condemn so many other things. And implying that Jesus would treat people the same way gives Him a really bad - false - name. And it surely doesn't make for a warm invitation to church.

Rather than standing in judgment of people, maybe we could just love them.

Not even love the sinner, hate the sin.

How about we just love. LOVE until they see our Jesus and want to love him too.

Then He can take care of the sin part. He does a much better job.

How about we do that? 

We will talk again soon...

BP

FIVE MINUTE FRIDAY: FOCUS

I am participating in a project called 5 Minute Friday. Here are the rules:

1. Write for 5 minutes flat – no editing, no over thinking, no backtracking.
2. Link back here and invite others to join in http://lisajobaker.com/five-minute-friday/.
3. And then absolutely, no ifs, ands or buts about it, you need to visit the person who linked up before you & encourage them in their comments. Seriously. That is, like, the rule. And the fun. And the heart of this community..

Today's word is FOCUS

FOCUS

Oh boy...I hope I can keep my mind on this for 300 seconds!

In my head, I hear Sally-Ann Roberts talking on Good Morning America about the fight her baby sister Robin has ahead with MDS.

Sally-Ann said, "We are keeping laser-like focus on Divine healing!" She also mentioned focus on God's promises and His love, and how important it would be to avoid any focus on negative thoughts.

That is EXACTLY what I need. How about you?

Studies have shown that, despite what we multi-taskers believe, in some instances we accomplish less by trying too much at once and spreading our focus so thin.

Obviously this doesn't mean I should stare at the washing machine through the entire cycle.

Laundry and cooking are fine.

Cooking and writing...not so much.

I wonder how often God wants to wrap the side of my head a bit and say FOCUS.

FOCUS on the best thoughts.

FOCUS on His promises.

FOCUS on His unfailing love.

FOCUS on His faithful provision.

FOCUS, with laser-like precision on the One who spoke me into life, the One who loves me more than I can conceive, the One who wants me to live in abundance, the One who has a plan for good, to prosper me in every way.

FOCUS on Him...and everything else will fall into place.

FOCUS with laser-like precision on today. 

FOCUS.