The Word became a human and lived among us. We saw His true glory—the glory that belongs to the only Son of the Father—and He was full of grace and truth. John 1:14
If you read my blog on Ash Wednesday, you know I made a few promises. Two people at church reminded me of the 40 blog commitment.
I don't make promises often because they are so much easier to make than keep- even with the best intention. On the other hand, promises keep us accountable. I willingly obliged myself to that. Promises of completed blogs and lost pounds and a closer walk.
What I sometimes forget is that I have the greatest power in the Universe willing to help me keep my promises.
Do you ever forget that?
I made You promises a thousand times
I tried to hear from Heaven, but I talked the whole time
I think I made You too small...
If You touched my face would I know You?
Looked into my eyes could I behold You?
In Palm Springs, CA the weather this weekend will be 80 degrees and sunny. The Ohio State Buckeyes will enjoy good weather for their softball tournament! Here in Western PA...yeah, weather not so much like that.
Of course, we do have sunny days in the 80's. But the sun looks and feels different depending on where you are. Have you noticed that? Since I have not yet been west of the Mississippi River, West Coast sun is unfamiliar to me. I had hoped to be in Palm Springs to see the tourney, and I was so looking forward to CA sunshine! Life had different plans.
What do I know of You who spoke me into motion?
Where have I even stood but the shore along Your ocean?
For ten Buckeyes, California is home - and they are delighted to be there! Visiting California will be exciting for me, but I will never know the state and the culture like those girls do. They speak of CaliSWAG, and I get what they mean, but I can't feel it.
In the same way, I laugh when people from warm climates say how much they love snow. But if you spent your life in the South or Southwest, you don't know snow. You don't know shoveling and cleaning cars and driving in it for several months a year.
Which brings me back to the Scripture verse, and to promises...
There are many places I want to see; California, Greece, Italy...I have read about all of them. But reading about them and being there, knowing them, are entirely different.
I have read many books about Jesus, seen movies, participated in Bible studies, sat in church every Sunday for many years.
Does that mean I know Him? Do you know Him? REALLY know Him?
What do I know of Holy? What do I know of wounds that will heal my shame?
And a God who gave life its name?
What do I know of Holy? Of the One who the angels praise?
All creation knows Your name on earth and heaven above, What do I know of this love?
The Word - Jesus - became a human being and came to live with us. Say it out loud. He wasn't content want to watch from His throne. He wanted to be where we are. Do you get that?
The "living with us" part isn't past tense. He wants to know us. Me and you. Your partner, your kids, the politicians you despise, the athletes you love.
The people who walked with Him on this Earth had the opportunity to see his true Glory, had the chance to experience his love and grace first-hand. But so do we!
God's promises to us are as real today as the day He made them. And He is always faithful.
The cool thing is that He is willing to help us in every way. When I make a promise to write 40 blogs in 40 days, He will help. When I make a promise to lose 20 pounds in 40 days, He will help.
When you make a promise to spend more time with your family, or rid your home of "stuff" or read the Bible daily, He will help.
If we let him...you knew there was a catch.
I know in the next 40 days, I am going to turn on the TV, and He will nudge me...40 blogs? Or maybe I will reach for chips in the store and get a little shock... 20 pounds?
People say they don't hear or feel nudges like that, but I know He does that. And here is the hard truth...for a long time, I didn't feel it because I didn't pay attention. How about you? OUCH ??
Then I caught a glimpse of who you might be,
The slightest hint of You brought me down to my knees
I can still choose not to pay attention, but I won't.
I won't because I have seen his hand, have seen Him work in my life, have been a recipient of His grace.
I don't want to just read about California - I want to be there.
I don't want know who Jesus is - I want to know Him.
How about you?
Maybe we can help each other in the next 38 days.
We will talk again soon...
BP :)
Friday, February 24, 2012
Wednesday, February 22, 2012
Lent, Buckeye Softball, and Hunger
I am hungry today.
As far as my stomach goes, that is a rather subjective statement, because I don't truly know what physical hunger feels like. You probably don't either. Not really.
But I am giving some types of food up for Lent - and my spoiled body is protesting. In truth, I could survive for days (weeks?) on water and my stored food....that is a nicer term than "fat"
There are other things for which I am hungry. How about you? Think about it...
My favorite softball team is hungry too. The Ohio State Buckeyes opened the season Feb 10-12, in Clerton FL, by going 2-3. More highs than lows, lots of reason for optimism, just a few difficult innings. In Las Vegas last weekend, they lost their first game, then went on a 4 game rip. Let's hope what happens in Vegas doesn't stay in Vegas this time!
The Ohio State softball program is rich in tradition and success. Head coach Linda Kalafatis is a brilliant motivator and strategist. She has 785 wins for her career, putting her in an elite class. Coach K has lead the Buckeyes to a Big Ten Championship and six appearances in the NCAA Tourney. Ali Viola, assistant head coach, was a three time All-American and a Women's Professional League champion. Danielle Henderson, pitching coach, was a three time All-American and Olympic Gold Medalist. Winning is the expectation at Ohio State.
Can you identify with being part of a company or group or team that is highly successful? Can you relate to MoJo, the SWAG, that comes with that. It is a confidence, a sense of calm, a knowing that even if the ships lists, it will be righted. It is a GOOD feeling.
The 2012 Buckeyes are hungry to get that back. 2011 was an anomaly. Injuries and other challenges lead to only the second losing season in Linda Kalafatis' career.
So the team heads to Palm Springs this week at 6-4... the first time over .500 since the 2010 season. That year, the Buckeyes started off with a loss in a Houston tourney, then won 4 in a row! (Sounds familiar!) They went on to finish 39-14 and advance to their fourth NCAA regional appearance in 5 years, despite having only 2 pitchers by season's end.
The 2012 Buckeyes are hungry. There are six players who were Buckeyes in 2010 - they know how winning feels and are hungry to feel it again. Another seven players experienced 2011, with its 13-37 record, as their first year at OSU- they are hungry to get last year's taste out of their mouths and taste winning. And there are nine newcomers who are hungry to start a new winning streak for Buckeye softball. HUNGRY!
What are you hungry for? What are you going to do about it?
Sometimes when I am hungry, my wishbone is very active. I wish I had more money...I wish I was in better shape...I wish I blah blah blah.
You know what I mean. I know you do.
The 2012 Buckeyes are relying on backbone, not wishbone. They have worked hard in the off-season and in the weight room. They have built camaraderie and a sense of purpose...all under the guidance of an excellent coaching staff.
The 2012 Buckeyes have reacted to their hunger by making a decision....a decision to devote every effort necessary to winning...a decision to BELIEVE without wavering...a decision to stick together as a team with a mission.
Which brings me back to Lent and my hunger...yes, thank you, in my ADD mind, it does bring me back there.
I rarely have physical hunger.
I do, however, have a hunger to be in better shape physically. I have a hunger to simplify my world by getting rid of a bunch of "stuff" I don't need. I have a hunger to make sure all my thoughts run through a Brita-like filter, so I can encourage others with positive energy. I have a hunger to finish the book I have started, and to write a daily blog that speaks to people in a helpful way.
And I have a hunger for Jesus to be more real, more present in everything I do, every moment of my day. So, on this Ash Wednesday, I will make my way to church. Like the Ohio State Buckeyes, I do better with a team of like-minded supporters.
But I still must make a decision about each of my hungers. I must decide to want weight loss more than I want chips, and firm muscles more than I want to sleep or sit on the couch.
I must decide to want simplicity more than I want that special thingy that so-and-so bought that I haven't touched for years but might need next week.
I must decide that because my thoughts become things, I better choose wisely. And because words can either uplift or destroy, I must decide to either lift up or shut up.
I must decide that writing, which I know has its source deep in my being, must be more important than television or cleaning (ouch that's a hard one) or Words With Friends (another hard one).
But the hunger has to be real. I have to want it as much as I want to breathe, more than I want to eat or sleep, more than I want a spotless house with no dirty laundry.
How about you? What hungers do you have? What will you do about it?
The 2012 Buckeyes have a hunger to win...and I can't wait to watch the season play out, and their dream come true.
I have made a decision about my hungers. Ash Wednesday is a great day to start. 40 blogs, 20 pounds off, a finished draft of my book, each day closer to Jesus...all by Easter, April 8.
You can follow how I am doing, and how the Buckeyes are doing, by reading my blogs. Follow me on Twitter (BethPainter1123) - you don't want to miss out!
And think about your hungers...share them if you like.
We will talk tomorrow!
BP :)
As far as my stomach goes, that is a rather subjective statement, because I don't truly know what physical hunger feels like. You probably don't either. Not really.
But I am giving some types of food up for Lent - and my spoiled body is protesting. In truth, I could survive for days (weeks?) on water and my stored food....that is a nicer term than "fat"
There are other things for which I am hungry. How about you? Think about it...
My favorite softball team is hungry too. The Ohio State Buckeyes opened the season Feb 10-12, in Clerton FL, by going 2-3. More highs than lows, lots of reason for optimism, just a few difficult innings. In Las Vegas last weekend, they lost their first game, then went on a 4 game rip. Let's hope what happens in Vegas doesn't stay in Vegas this time!
The Ohio State softball program is rich in tradition and success. Head coach Linda Kalafatis is a brilliant motivator and strategist. She has 785 wins for her career, putting her in an elite class. Coach K has lead the Buckeyes to a Big Ten Championship and six appearances in the NCAA Tourney. Ali Viola, assistant head coach, was a three time All-American and a Women's Professional League champion. Danielle Henderson, pitching coach, was a three time All-American and Olympic Gold Medalist. Winning is the expectation at Ohio State.
Can you identify with being part of a company or group or team that is highly successful? Can you relate to MoJo, the SWAG, that comes with that. It is a confidence, a sense of calm, a knowing that even if the ships lists, it will be righted. It is a GOOD feeling.
The 2012 Buckeyes are hungry to get that back. 2011 was an anomaly. Injuries and other challenges lead to only the second losing season in Linda Kalafatis' career.
So the team heads to Palm Springs this week at 6-4... the first time over .500 since the 2010 season. That year, the Buckeyes started off with a loss in a Houston tourney, then won 4 in a row! (Sounds familiar!) They went on to finish 39-14 and advance to their fourth NCAA regional appearance in 5 years, despite having only 2 pitchers by season's end.
The 2012 Buckeyes are hungry. There are six players who were Buckeyes in 2010 - they know how winning feels and are hungry to feel it again. Another seven players experienced 2011, with its 13-37 record, as their first year at OSU- they are hungry to get last year's taste out of their mouths and taste winning. And there are nine newcomers who are hungry to start a new winning streak for Buckeye softball. HUNGRY!
What are you hungry for? What are you going to do about it?
Sometimes when I am hungry, my wishbone is very active. I wish I had more money...I wish I was in better shape...I wish I blah blah blah.
You know what I mean. I know you do.
The 2012 Buckeyes are relying on backbone, not wishbone. They have worked hard in the off-season and in the weight room. They have built camaraderie and a sense of purpose...all under the guidance of an excellent coaching staff.
The 2012 Buckeyes have reacted to their hunger by making a decision....a decision to devote every effort necessary to winning...a decision to BELIEVE without wavering...a decision to stick together as a team with a mission.
Which brings me back to Lent and my hunger...yes, thank you, in my ADD mind, it does bring me back there.
I rarely have physical hunger.
I do, however, have a hunger to be in better shape physically. I have a hunger to simplify my world by getting rid of a bunch of "stuff" I don't need. I have a hunger to make sure all my thoughts run through a Brita-like filter, so I can encourage others with positive energy. I have a hunger to finish the book I have started, and to write a daily blog that speaks to people in a helpful way.
And I have a hunger for Jesus to be more real, more present in everything I do, every moment of my day. So, on this Ash Wednesday, I will make my way to church. Like the Ohio State Buckeyes, I do better with a team of like-minded supporters.
But I still must make a decision about each of my hungers. I must decide to want weight loss more than I want chips, and firm muscles more than I want to sleep or sit on the couch.
I must decide to want simplicity more than I want that special thingy that so-and-so bought that I haven't touched for years but might need next week.
I must decide that because my thoughts become things, I better choose wisely. And because words can either uplift or destroy, I must decide to either lift up or shut up.
I must decide that writing, which I know has its source deep in my being, must be more important than television or cleaning (ouch that's a hard one) or Words With Friends (another hard one).
But the hunger has to be real. I have to want it as much as I want to breathe, more than I want to eat or sleep, more than I want a spotless house with no dirty laundry.
How about you? What hungers do you have? What will you do about it?
The 2012 Buckeyes have a hunger to win...and I can't wait to watch the season play out, and their dream come true.
I have made a decision about my hungers. Ash Wednesday is a great day to start. 40 blogs, 20 pounds off, a finished draft of my book, each day closer to Jesus...all by Easter, April 8.
You can follow how I am doing, and how the Buckeyes are doing, by reading my blogs. Follow me on Twitter (BethPainter1123) - you don't want to miss out!
And think about your hungers...share them if you like.
We will talk tomorrow!
BP :)
Monday, February 20, 2012
Falling Apart, Withering Plants, Falling Together
Sometimes things have to fall apart so better things can fall together.
I spent an hour last Monday pruning my Tradescantia zebrina, aka Wandering Jew. Started from clippings from another plant, this one has never been as full as the one from which it came. A foot below the soil, the branches and leaves were vibrant. But, at soil level, the branches were weak, and the leaves were like thin brown paper.
Initially, I worked very gently, pulling off dead leaves, tugging gingerly to determine which branches I could remove. I had a small waste can beside me.
That lasted about 10 minutes...at which point it was clear a complete overhaul was needed. The kitchen garbage can replaced the smaller one.
There was some trepidation as so much of the plant fell to the floor. Surely, there would be some branches strong enough to stay. Parts of it looked so pretty, and it was even blooming. It's a classic dilemma - the healthy parts were beautiful, the unhealthy parts were hideous and destructive. I wanted to save what I could, separate the dead from the beautiful. But each time I pulled at a dead branch, several seemingly healthy ones fell. Very soon, the pot was empty - on the floor was a mixture of very dead and very healthy pieces.
Sometimes things have to fall apart so better things can fall together.
Understand that I had been neglecting this task for weeks. The plant is in a prominent place, and this "deadness" didn't happen overnight. Numerous times, I have noticed how bad it looked at the top. But, I just wasn't sure what to do.
So I did nothing.
Oh, don't we all know that story?!?
I don't know the techniques used by florists to make the plant full, and I was afraid I would make it worse. And maybe I didn't want to spend the time. Instead, I watched as it slowly began to die.
I know - you've been there. Maybe not with a plant, but with something.
Sometimes things have to fall apart so better things can fall together.
It is rare that anything falls apart all by itself, with no prior warning. A plant, relationship, vehicle, physical body - there are almost always warnings signs. Dead leaves, if you will.
We tell ourselves lies: Sure, that red light keeps coming on - but the car is running well. Yes, I have chest pains often, but I probably pulled a muscle. I know he/she says disrespects me in front of my friends, but there is a nice person deep inside. Yes, I see the dead leaves.
But...you don't have money or time or the heart. Isn't that your reason?
I have a friend who drives a beater. Her classic line is, "I can't take it to the garage because I'm afraid it will cost a lot." So much better to not take it and have the entire car ruined.
That's not to say we always stand by idly. Sometimes we do everything we can, and either we waited too long, or there was simply no means of prevention . At which point, we make a decision: go on as if nothing is wrong - ignore the falling apart - or make a change.
What's that you say? Yes, I know change is hard. H.A.R.D.
And here is the kicker...whether you doing something or do nothing, you have still made a decision.
Sometimes things have to fall apart so better things can fall together.
Yesterday I finally decided to take action with this neglected plant. With the pot empty, and the floor covered with pretty leaves, I had to decide if I was going to save it or bag it.
The decision was easy because the plant has special meaning to me. Besides, Wandering Jews root easily in water. And, with sufficient care, they can also regenerate in soil. I filled two large vases with water and healthy clippings. Then, using a straw, I made as many holes as possible in the dirt. The straw was sometimes met with resistance because the dirt had become compacted. Hmmmm... that isn't a good environment for plant growth, is it? Funny how you find causes once you start to clean up the mess.
I reclaimed enough healthy pieces to fill all the holes...and for the past 7 days I have been faithfully tending, making sure the soil stays wet, watching to see if those pieces are growing. I have also researched methods for fostering fuller growth, top and bottom.
Sometimes things have to fall apart so better things can fall together.
Granted, most things that fall apart aren't as easy to bring together again. But then , what value does "easy" have?
Two lessons for me:
1. Had I given the plant this much attention earlier, had I pulled dead leaves as they appeared, trimmed long branches and stuck them back in the soil, loosened the soil to promote absorption of water and air, I may have been able to save myself some work and not had to begin again.
Applicable to many parts of life, eh?
2. Even when things do fall apart, the plant isn't necessarily dead...and my life isn't necessarily over. God will still cause the sun to come up, and He will still order my steps.
I will keep you updated on how the plant grows. I believe it will be better than ever!
Sometimes things have to fall apart so better things can fall together.
We will talk again soon...
BP :)
I spent an hour last Monday pruning my Tradescantia zebrina, aka Wandering Jew. Started from clippings from another plant, this one has never been as full as the one from which it came. A foot below the soil, the branches and leaves were vibrant. But, at soil level, the branches were weak, and the leaves were like thin brown paper.
Initially, I worked very gently, pulling off dead leaves, tugging gingerly to determine which branches I could remove. I had a small waste can beside me.
That lasted about 10 minutes...at which point it was clear a complete overhaul was needed. The kitchen garbage can replaced the smaller one.
There was some trepidation as so much of the plant fell to the floor. Surely, there would be some branches strong enough to stay. Parts of it looked so pretty, and it was even blooming. It's a classic dilemma - the healthy parts were beautiful, the unhealthy parts were hideous and destructive. I wanted to save what I could, separate the dead from the beautiful. But each time I pulled at a dead branch, several seemingly healthy ones fell. Very soon, the pot was empty - on the floor was a mixture of very dead and very healthy pieces.
Sometimes things have to fall apart so better things can fall together.
Understand that I had been neglecting this task for weeks. The plant is in a prominent place, and this "deadness" didn't happen overnight. Numerous times, I have noticed how bad it looked at the top. But, I just wasn't sure what to do.
So I did nothing.
Oh, don't we all know that story?!?
I don't know the techniques used by florists to make the plant full, and I was afraid I would make it worse. And maybe I didn't want to spend the time. Instead, I watched as it slowly began to die.
I know - you've been there. Maybe not with a plant, but with something.
Sometimes things have to fall apart so better things can fall together.
It is rare that anything falls apart all by itself, with no prior warning. A plant, relationship, vehicle, physical body - there are almost always warnings signs. Dead leaves, if you will.
We tell ourselves lies: Sure, that red light keeps coming on - but the car is running well. Yes, I have chest pains often, but I probably pulled a muscle. I know he/she says disrespects me in front of my friends, but there is a nice person deep inside. Yes, I see the dead leaves.
But...you don't have money or time or the heart. Isn't that your reason?
I have a friend who drives a beater. Her classic line is, "I can't take it to the garage because I'm afraid it will cost a lot." So much better to not take it and have the entire car ruined.
That's not to say we always stand by idly. Sometimes we do everything we can, and either we waited too long, or there was simply no means of prevention . At which point, we make a decision: go on as if nothing is wrong - ignore the falling apart - or make a change.
What's that you say? Yes, I know change is hard. H.A.R.D.
And here is the kicker...whether you doing something or do nothing, you have still made a decision.
Sometimes things have to fall apart so better things can fall together.
Yesterday I finally decided to take action with this neglected plant. With the pot empty, and the floor covered with pretty leaves, I had to decide if I was going to save it or bag it.
The decision was easy because the plant has special meaning to me. Besides, Wandering Jews root easily in water. And, with sufficient care, they can also regenerate in soil. I filled two large vases with water and healthy clippings. Then, using a straw, I made as many holes as possible in the dirt. The straw was sometimes met with resistance because the dirt had become compacted. Hmmmm... that isn't a good environment for plant growth, is it? Funny how you find causes once you start to clean up the mess.
I reclaimed enough healthy pieces to fill all the holes...and for the past 7 days I have been faithfully tending, making sure the soil stays wet, watching to see if those pieces are growing. I have also researched methods for fostering fuller growth, top and bottom.
Sometimes things have to fall apart so better things can fall together.
Granted, most things that fall apart aren't as easy to bring together again. But then , what value does "easy" have?
Two lessons for me:
1. Had I given the plant this much attention earlier, had I pulled dead leaves as they appeared, trimmed long branches and stuck them back in the soil, loosened the soil to promote absorption of water and air, I may have been able to save myself some work and not had to begin again.
Applicable to many parts of life, eh?
2. Even when things do fall apart, the plant isn't necessarily dead...and my life isn't necessarily over. God will still cause the sun to come up, and He will still order my steps.
I will keep you updated on how the plant grows. I believe it will be better than ever!
Sometimes things have to fall apart so better things can fall together.
We will talk again soon...
BP :)
Tuesday, February 14, 2012
Buckeye softball...Whitney...and BELIEVING
My favorite softball team, The Ohio State Buckeyes, opened the season in Clermont, Florida last weekend. And one of the greatest singers ever died Saturday... a tragic end full of life lessons.
I thought of one of my favorite Whitney Houston songs Sunday while following the final softball game of the weekend...
We were moving mountains long before we knew we could...There can be miracles when you believe
Though hope is frail, It's hard to kill
Who knows what miracles you can achieve
When you believe, somehow you will
You will when you believe
Whitney Houston grew up in the church, got her start as a gospel singer alongside her mother Cissy. There was little indication Whitney attended church much in the past 25 years. But she spoke in more than one interview about her love for Jesus, and she believed she was a child of God. Religious? Probably not, according to society's definition. A lover of Jesus? It seems so.
The tragic aspect of this lies in Whitney's profession of a love for God, but no love for herself. What good is it to believe God loves me, if I don't believe in myself, if I don't grab hold of that love?
Whitney fought her demons long and hard, so the following is said with no malice toward her. It is my experience that "professing without showing" is too often the case among Christians. If I tell you I am committed to working out daily, but my pant size keeps growing, are you going to follow my workout regime? Didn't think so.
If I tell you I believe in God, in His power and what it can do in my life, but you see no change, no evidence of belief, are you going to jump up and run to Bible study with me? Didn't think so. My "believing" has to be something people SEE, not something I just talk about.
Which brings us back to Buckeye softball...
The writer and softball fan in me loves the grit of a northern team that plays 25 games on the road before having a home game, the integrity that is evident in playing "The Ohio State way" (as defined by Head Coach Linda Kalafatis) and the mojo that fuels the Buckeyes.
I don't know Coach Kalafatis well. We have spoken twice, met once briefly, have mutual friends. I certainly can't speak to her faith journey.
What I do know is that she has a gift for reaching and inspiring young women... she pulls the best from them, teaches them about being a scholar and an athlete, about hard work, playing tough, winning graciously, losing with your head up but your jaw set...and doing it all as a team.
These aren't softball lessons. They are life lessons. They are lessons about believing in yourself, in your team/family, in the power of your commitment to a common goal. Lessons which can inspire and benefit all of us.
The 2012 Buckeyes have a mission - to go from Worst To First in the Big Ten. It is a challenge that will require all the lessons mentioned, as well as belief. Correction...BELIEF. From every player. In herself. In her teammates. In the coaching staff. In the midst of every game, every practice, every situation.
Truthfully, the first steps of this journey began in the disappointing 2011 season... steps taken through the frustration of watching teammates go down with injuries, irritation of losing close games, the heartache of two young ladies losing a parent - two beloved members of this family gone.
We were moving mountains long before we knew we could...
The foundation of a grand mission is built when you can walk through that kind of difficulty, keep your head up, and learn lessons. Whether we are 19 and playing softball, or 49 and playing life, the best lessons always come from the lowest times.
During those times in the pit and the climb out, belief has to walk, not just talk.
You know people, don't you, who talk about faith, trust, blah blah, then fall off the edge every time something goes wrong?
Yeah, I know them too...and it makes me scrunch up my eyebrows and say, "Hmmmm? What was all the T-A-L-K about?"
There can be miracles when you believe
Though hope is frail, It's hard to kill
Again, I know little about the source of Coach Kalafatis' inspiration. But I know she keeps her team very even-tempered, never too high or too low. And while the expectation is that they will be excellent each and every day, these kids understand there is more to a season than one game... and there is more to life than a softball season. LIFE lessons.
So here is the non-softball related point...there is a segment of our population that is highly critical of anyone whose beliefs don't match theirs exactly - in both substance and expression. This attitude is close-minded and dangerous.
I love Jesus with all my heart, I live every day in that love, and I boldly say I would not be here without His grace.
Whitney Houston knew that same love...knew it in her head, but never allowed it to break the bonds in her heart. Since her death, I have heard people criticizing her: crack-head, druggie, spoiled superstar.
And while we waste time judging her, people cross our path every day who want desperately to feel that love, to BELIEVE in who they are, in their purpose, in their worth. But they hear our criticism of others and it pushes them away, keeps them from reaching out to us.
There are folks who have the wonderful gift of inspiring people to greatness, cultivating belief in a common goal, leading and pushing us through ugly valleys until the mountain is conquered, the prize won. Maybe they don't speak the name of Jesus, or have a bumper sticker on the car. But they are affecting people in an incredibly positive way.
And some Christians would do well to imitate that.
I choose not to join in the movement to push my beliefs into the political arena, to be nasty all over social media pages above views that differ from mine, to arrogantly demand that people embrace the love of my Jesus. Certainly, the hope is that all will come to know His saving power. But hitting people with a Bible never works.
Instead, I choose to hang with folks whose arms are open, whose lives are filled with joy and peace.
I choose to spread my beliefs through kindness, with smiles and laughter.
I choose to carry my Light gently so folks like Whitney, who know about God's love but can't quite make it come alive for them, might grab hold of that love, might see that it absolutely changed my life, and can change theirs as well.
How about you? Are you walking, or just talking? Are you preaching or showing?
For the next few months, I am also going to spend glorious afternoons watching my favorite softball team on their journey to making an epic comeback. It will be a journey full of FAITH and BELIEF, and maybe a miracle or two....a team of determined young women lead by a one of the most gifted coaches in the country - a woman who, by all accounts, is gracious and kind, generous toward her players, demanding but encouraging, full of life, and good, positive energy.
Go Bucks - shine your light...it will be great fun to watch!!
Who knows what miracles you can achieve when you believe,
Somehow you will, now you will
You will when you believe
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eAM2-hg7xJs&feature=related
I thought of one of my favorite Whitney Houston songs Sunday while following the final softball game of the weekend...
We were moving mountains long before we knew we could...There can be miracles when you believe
Though hope is frail, It's hard to kill
Who knows what miracles you can achieve
When you believe, somehow you will
You will when you believe
Whitney Houston grew up in the church, got her start as a gospel singer alongside her mother Cissy. There was little indication Whitney attended church much in the past 25 years. But she spoke in more than one interview about her love for Jesus, and she believed she was a child of God. Religious? Probably not, according to society's definition. A lover of Jesus? It seems so.
The tragic aspect of this lies in Whitney's profession of a love for God, but no love for herself. What good is it to believe God loves me, if I don't believe in myself, if I don't grab hold of that love?
Whitney fought her demons long and hard, so the following is said with no malice toward her. It is my experience that "professing without showing" is too often the case among Christians. If I tell you I am committed to working out daily, but my pant size keeps growing, are you going to follow my workout regime? Didn't think so.
If I tell you I believe in God, in His power and what it can do in my life, but you see no change, no evidence of belief, are you going to jump up and run to Bible study with me? Didn't think so. My "believing" has to be something people SEE, not something I just talk about.
Which brings us back to Buckeye softball...
The writer and softball fan in me loves the grit of a northern team that plays 25 games on the road before having a home game, the integrity that is evident in playing "The Ohio State way" (as defined by Head Coach Linda Kalafatis) and the mojo that fuels the Buckeyes.
I don't know Coach Kalafatis well. We have spoken twice, met once briefly, have mutual friends. I certainly can't speak to her faith journey.
What I do know is that she has a gift for reaching and inspiring young women... she pulls the best from them, teaches them about being a scholar and an athlete, about hard work, playing tough, winning graciously, losing with your head up but your jaw set...and doing it all as a team.
These aren't softball lessons. They are life lessons. They are lessons about believing in yourself, in your team/family, in the power of your commitment to a common goal. Lessons which can inspire and benefit all of us.
The 2012 Buckeyes have a mission - to go from Worst To First in the Big Ten. It is a challenge that will require all the lessons mentioned, as well as belief. Correction...BELIEF. From every player. In herself. In her teammates. In the coaching staff. In the midst of every game, every practice, every situation.
Truthfully, the first steps of this journey began in the disappointing 2011 season... steps taken through the frustration of watching teammates go down with injuries, irritation of losing close games, the heartache of two young ladies losing a parent - two beloved members of this family gone.
We were moving mountains long before we knew we could...
The foundation of a grand mission is built when you can walk through that kind of difficulty, keep your head up, and learn lessons. Whether we are 19 and playing softball, or 49 and playing life, the best lessons always come from the lowest times.
During those times in the pit and the climb out, belief has to walk, not just talk.
You know people, don't you, who talk about faith, trust, blah blah, then fall off the edge every time something goes wrong?
Yeah, I know them too...and it makes me scrunch up my eyebrows and say, "Hmmmm? What was all the T-A-L-K about?"
There can be miracles when you believe
Though hope is frail, It's hard to kill
Again, I know little about the source of Coach Kalafatis' inspiration. But I know she keeps her team very even-tempered, never too high or too low. And while the expectation is that they will be excellent each and every day, these kids understand there is more to a season than one game... and there is more to life than a softball season. LIFE lessons.
So here is the non-softball related point...there is a segment of our population that is highly critical of anyone whose beliefs don't match theirs exactly - in both substance and expression. This attitude is close-minded and dangerous.
I love Jesus with all my heart, I live every day in that love, and I boldly say I would not be here without His grace.
Whitney Houston knew that same love...knew it in her head, but never allowed it to break the bonds in her heart. Since her death, I have heard people criticizing her: crack-head, druggie, spoiled superstar.
And while we waste time judging her, people cross our path every day who want desperately to feel that love, to BELIEVE in who they are, in their purpose, in their worth. But they hear our criticism of others and it pushes them away, keeps them from reaching out to us.
There are folks who have the wonderful gift of inspiring people to greatness, cultivating belief in a common goal, leading and pushing us through ugly valleys until the mountain is conquered, the prize won. Maybe they don't speak the name of Jesus, or have a bumper sticker on the car. But they are affecting people in an incredibly positive way.
And some Christians would do well to imitate that.
I choose not to join in the movement to push my beliefs into the political arena, to be nasty all over social media pages above views that differ from mine, to arrogantly demand that people embrace the love of my Jesus. Certainly, the hope is that all will come to know His saving power. But hitting people with a Bible never works.
Instead, I choose to hang with folks whose arms are open, whose lives are filled with joy and peace.
I choose to spread my beliefs through kindness, with smiles and laughter.
I choose to carry my Light gently so folks like Whitney, who know about God's love but can't quite make it come alive for them, might grab hold of that love, might see that it absolutely changed my life, and can change theirs as well.
How about you? Are you walking, or just talking? Are you preaching or showing?
For the next few months, I am also going to spend glorious afternoons watching my favorite softball team on their journey to making an epic comeback. It will be a journey full of FAITH and BELIEF, and maybe a miracle or two....a team of determined young women lead by a one of the most gifted coaches in the country - a woman who, by all accounts, is gracious and kind, generous toward her players, demanding but encouraging, full of life, and good, positive energy.
Go Bucks - shine your light...it will be great fun to watch!!
Who knows what miracles you can achieve when you believe,
Somehow you will, now you will
You will when you believe
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eAM2-hg7xJs&feature=related
Monday, February 6, 2012
Focus...Buckeye softball...and FEAR
This weekend is an exciting time for college softball fans - the start of the 2012 season. And equally as exciting is that my favorite college softball team practiced outside last week - yes, outside, even as January turned to February! Not a big deal for southern schools, but a welcome delight for the Ohio State Buckeyes!
If you aren't a softball fan, stick with me. This piece is about more than softball. And I will talk later about why the Buckeyes are my favorite team...
After my last blog discussed "focus", my dear friend Rebecca reminded me that distraction is often a much bigger obstacle than destruction. The Enemy (in whatever for that takes for you) doesn't have the power to utterly destroy many of us, but we can be pulled away quite easily. Distracted from our purpose. From our calling. From our joy.
You might be thinking of big distractions: illness, job loss, relationship struggles. But I contend the process of distraction is insidious, taking small, quiet steps.
As a child, there were two things I loved more than anything: music and baseball. I sang myself to sleep at night, sang as I did chores, sang as my mother and I rode in our Ford Falcon that had no radio. Similarly, I was ready to play baseball at any time. Behind our house was a cinder block building which served as my "pitch back." I stood in the alley tossing a tennis ball at that wall for hours. I had 60'6" marked off*, and would play out entire games. The roof served up fly balls. I would throw the ball at an angle so I had to run it down - still have cinders in my knees as souvenirs. Sometimes the ball would get stuck in the gutter - get the ladder from the basement, find the ball, put the ladder back, game on again! Rain or shine. Hot or cold.
Girls weren't yet allowed to play Little League, but I learned to love softball in a summer league when I was 13. No school team, no traveling team, slow pitch only. But I LOVED softball.
As a freshman at Penn State, I tried out for the team, and was the last player cut. The coach said I couldn't hit fast pitch, didn't have enough experience with the game at that pace. I cried, then left organized softball for many years.
Three years ago, my cousin was an All-Star pitcher for her high school team. Of course, I watched her play...and I started to remember. Last year I played in a recreational league. At the very first practice, that feeling came back stronger. Then I attended some Ohio State games...not far into the first game, I clearly remember thinking, "I LOVE softball."
Would I have been a great college player? Would I have decided to coach? I don't know.
But I do know the opinion of one coach should not have been allowed to push me away from a sport I loved. It wasn't her fault - it was mine. I could have asked to practice with the team, or found someone willing to pitch to me, then tried out again. Instead, I gave up.
I have never stopped singing, but I also let obstacles keep me from a greater pursuit of music. I learned to play the clarinet and saxophone with relative ease, but never applied myself. I wanted to learn piano, but we couldn't buy one or pay for lessons. Still, the community center had a piano I could have used, and I no doubt could have done enough chores for a teacher in exchange for lessons.
What held me back?
FEAR. False Evidence Appearing Real. Fear that no matter how hard I tried, what I wanted was beyond my reach.
Would I have made any impact in softball or the music world? Again, I don't know.
What I do know is the distraction of fear affected other parts of my life.
Recently, I had the delightful privilege of chatting with Ohio State softball head coach Linda Kalafatis. With a brilliant softball mind, and a special way of relating to and motivating young women, Linda has become one of the most successful coaches in the country. Her teams play with passion and purpose, and NO FEAR. In 2011, major injuries and off-field issues lead to the worst record in Linda's career...but her team never quit, never displayed anything but grit and heart. She calls it "the Ohio State way," and it is surely a valuable life lesson to all her players.
Linda's career path stands out to me. She first became a head coach as a Division II grad student at California University of PA. Five years later she moved to Div I University of Akron, and to Ohio State three years after that. At Cal, Linda decided her goal was to coach a top Division I school. She has interviewed for three coaching position, and landed every one! If she ever felt FEAR, she didn't allow it to stop her. And FEAR has no place in her locker room.
Contrast that with my journey. My original plan was to be an English teacher. But that goal was scared off by a lack of teaching jobs. FEAR. Then the softball cut lead to my not trying out for anything else at Penn State. FEAR. I didn't want to study Biology (first major) or Recreation Management (second major) but I couldn't seem to make a different decision. FEAR.
I left Penn State 15 credits short of a degree. FEAR. Took a full time job in retail just because it came along, and I didn't know what else to do. FEAR. Worked in retail 15 years, knowing full well I shouldn't be there. FEAR.
Finished my BS in Human Resources Management. Eventually took a job with Verizon Wireless. Excellent company, but still not where I should be. FEAR.
Finally, a lot of heartache, a lot of lessons, and a lot of loving support from friends and family began working together. I faced the FEAR, began digging away the layers of junk, sharpening my focus, getting back to ME. With a Master's Degree in professional writing in hand, I left Verizon Wireless to work as a part-time editor and a full time freelance writer. No guarantees. But much potential.
Has there been FEAR? Sure. Has it stopped me? Not anymore!
FEAR was a major force in my life for years. It never destroyed me, but it certainly distracted me enough that I lost focus.
How about you? Is FEAR keeping you from the purpose for which you were brought to this Earth?
No, you say, it isn't FEAR...it is lack of finances, or lack of time or lack of opportunity. In truth, all those excuses come from FEAR.
FEAR tells you that focusing on a dream will make your life worse. And FEAR lies.
FEAR says you don't deserve to focus on a dream. And FEAR lies.
FEAR says you probably won't make a difference, and, anyway, you can still do it in a few years. And FEAR lies.
I know FEAR lies because I am still here, balancing without a corporate net to catch me. Most days, I feel like the 10 year old kid I lost track of so long ago... writing stories about softball, being part of an amazing music ministry at church, FEARing nothing anymore.
How about you? What FEAR is distracting you from your purpose?
Take some time to think about it.
We will talk again soon.
BP :)
*60'6" is the distance from home plate to the pitcher's mound in baseball
If you aren't a softball fan, stick with me. This piece is about more than softball. And I will talk later about why the Buckeyes are my favorite team...
After my last blog discussed "focus", my dear friend Rebecca reminded me that distraction is often a much bigger obstacle than destruction. The Enemy (in whatever for that takes for you) doesn't have the power to utterly destroy many of us, but we can be pulled away quite easily. Distracted from our purpose. From our calling. From our joy.
You might be thinking of big distractions: illness, job loss, relationship struggles. But I contend the process of distraction is insidious, taking small, quiet steps.
As a child, there were two things I loved more than anything: music and baseball. I sang myself to sleep at night, sang as I did chores, sang as my mother and I rode in our Ford Falcon that had no radio. Similarly, I was ready to play baseball at any time. Behind our house was a cinder block building which served as my "pitch back." I stood in the alley tossing a tennis ball at that wall for hours. I had 60'6" marked off*, and would play out entire games. The roof served up fly balls. I would throw the ball at an angle so I had to run it down - still have cinders in my knees as souvenirs. Sometimes the ball would get stuck in the gutter - get the ladder from the basement, find the ball, put the ladder back, game on again! Rain or shine. Hot or cold.
Girls weren't yet allowed to play Little League, but I learned to love softball in a summer league when I was 13. No school team, no traveling team, slow pitch only. But I LOVED softball.
As a freshman at Penn State, I tried out for the team, and was the last player cut. The coach said I couldn't hit fast pitch, didn't have enough experience with the game at that pace. I cried, then left organized softball for many years.
Three years ago, my cousin was an All-Star pitcher for her high school team. Of course, I watched her play...and I started to remember. Last year I played in a recreational league. At the very first practice, that feeling came back stronger. Then I attended some Ohio State games...not far into the first game, I clearly remember thinking, "I LOVE softball."
Would I have been a great college player? Would I have decided to coach? I don't know.
But I do know the opinion of one coach should not have been allowed to push me away from a sport I loved. It wasn't her fault - it was mine. I could have asked to practice with the team, or found someone willing to pitch to me, then tried out again. Instead, I gave up.
I have never stopped singing, but I also let obstacles keep me from a greater pursuit of music. I learned to play the clarinet and saxophone with relative ease, but never applied myself. I wanted to learn piano, but we couldn't buy one or pay for lessons. Still, the community center had a piano I could have used, and I no doubt could have done enough chores for a teacher in exchange for lessons.
What held me back?
FEAR. False Evidence Appearing Real. Fear that no matter how hard I tried, what I wanted was beyond my reach.
Would I have made any impact in softball or the music world? Again, I don't know.
What I do know is the distraction of fear affected other parts of my life.
Recently, I had the delightful privilege of chatting with Ohio State softball head coach Linda Kalafatis. With a brilliant softball mind, and a special way of relating to and motivating young women, Linda has become one of the most successful coaches in the country. Her teams play with passion and purpose, and NO FEAR. In 2011, major injuries and off-field issues lead to the worst record in Linda's career...but her team never quit, never displayed anything but grit and heart. She calls it "the Ohio State way," and it is surely a valuable life lesson to all her players.
Linda's career path stands out to me. She first became a head coach as a Division II grad student at California University of PA. Five years later she moved to Div I University of Akron, and to Ohio State three years after that. At Cal, Linda decided her goal was to coach a top Division I school. She has interviewed for three coaching position, and landed every one! If she ever felt FEAR, she didn't allow it to stop her. And FEAR has no place in her locker room.
Contrast that with my journey. My original plan was to be an English teacher. But that goal was scared off by a lack of teaching jobs. FEAR. Then the softball cut lead to my not trying out for anything else at Penn State. FEAR. I didn't want to study Biology (first major) or Recreation Management (second major) but I couldn't seem to make a different decision. FEAR.
I left Penn State 15 credits short of a degree. FEAR. Took a full time job in retail just because it came along, and I didn't know what else to do. FEAR. Worked in retail 15 years, knowing full well I shouldn't be there. FEAR.
Finished my BS in Human Resources Management. Eventually took a job with Verizon Wireless. Excellent company, but still not where I should be. FEAR.
Finally, a lot of heartache, a lot of lessons, and a lot of loving support from friends and family began working together. I faced the FEAR, began digging away the layers of junk, sharpening my focus, getting back to ME. With a Master's Degree in professional writing in hand, I left Verizon Wireless to work as a part-time editor and a full time freelance writer. No guarantees. But much potential.
Has there been FEAR? Sure. Has it stopped me? Not anymore!
FEAR was a major force in my life for years. It never destroyed me, but it certainly distracted me enough that I lost focus.
How about you? Is FEAR keeping you from the purpose for which you were brought to this Earth?
No, you say, it isn't FEAR...it is lack of finances, or lack of time or lack of opportunity. In truth, all those excuses come from FEAR.
FEAR tells you that focusing on a dream will make your life worse. And FEAR lies.
FEAR says you don't deserve to focus on a dream. And FEAR lies.
FEAR says you probably won't make a difference, and, anyway, you can still do it in a few years. And FEAR lies.
I know FEAR lies because I am still here, balancing without a corporate net to catch me. Most days, I feel like the 10 year old kid I lost track of so long ago... writing stories about softball, being part of an amazing music ministry at church, FEARing nothing anymore.
How about you? What FEAR is distracting you from your purpose?
Take some time to think about it.
We will talk again soon.
BP :)
*60'6" is the distance from home plate to the pitcher's mound in baseball
Saturday, January 28, 2012
Biggest Loser (and LIFE) Lessons From a Puppy
On my walk today, I saw a puppy playing in the wet grass. He was on a long leash, and the owner was watching him closely. He ran and rolled and jumped and got himself tangled. His owner patiently untangled him, just to watch him do it again. He yipped as I walked by. By the time I got around the block, the pup had exhausted himself and was lying in the sun on the sidewalk. A treat lay beside him, but he was too tired to eat, and too tired to bark at me again. I smiled at his cute puppy behavior.
But it isn't so cute when I do that. You probably do it, too.
Biggest Loser 2012 is into its fourth week for me and 60 of my closest friends. If you have been tracking with me for any amount of time, you know this is not the first BL contest for me. And the question "Why" is fair, and one I have asked myself so many times in the past year. I was a size 10 for my entire adult life, until 2004.
Seven years of wondering how I let this happen and why I can't reverse it.
I know this for sure: Carrying extra ponds is rarely about FOOD. Maybe it is about a large amount unsecured debt, or a painful relationship, or an energy-sucking job. Maybe it is simply not following your calling. Food issues (whether you are eating too much or too little) are generally about something else in your world.
I am not judging, or saying we should all be a size 10. But that is who I am, and who I will be by summer. And I am not encouraging anyone to ask the question "why" in a way that brings self-scorn or guilt.
Still, it is a question which must be asked if the situation is going to permanently change. Whether I am desiring a change in weight, or financial health, or relationship satisfaction, the first step is to determine the path that brought me here.
Which brings me back to the puppy. He was rolling and jumping and, occasionally being frustrated by the rope leash which either wraps him in a ball or jerks him back when he tries to go too far. Remember, the owner was standing guard, making sure the pup was not harmed. She untangled the rope when the pup was bound, comforted him when he ran too hard and jerked his neck. Then he was back at it again, dragging the leash behind him, never associating the cause and effect.
Do you ever do that? I know I do.
There are benevolent boundaries, a leash if you will, established by my God who made and saved me. Whether you believe in my God or not, you can't escape the fact that life has boundaries. And while I am fully aware of those limits, I cross them frequently, knowingly, and yet, maybe not understanding why.
Currently, I find myself in a position of needing to lose 50 pounds. It happened right under my nose. Literally! I can tell you why I am overweight - I took in more calories, over an extended period of time, that I burned. Not hard, is it? Probably the same reason you have extra pounds.
But overeating is just the symptom. Just like overspending is. Show of hands - who set out to be overweight and under a mountain of debt. Anybody? Uh huh...no hands.
So how did I get to be like this puppy - tangled in a leash of extra pounds, extra stress, too much fear... tired from the struggle?
The puppy is young and silly and doesn't really understand. Me? I am young at heart, sometimes silly, but able to understand...and yet, I lose focus.
Does that happen to you? Are you like me? Do you lose focus, in big and little ways?
Are you like me? Do you forget who you are, who you belong to, why you are here?
Are you like me? Do you subvert your best self in any of the ways I do?
I put food in my mouth mindlessly, out of boredom, out of habit, and forget what havoc the extra pounds wreak.
I put off exercise because my list has so many "important" items, and forget that none of those things will matter if I sacrifice my health.
On a larger scale, I get dirty in mud that others fling into my life, and forget their mud isn't about me.
I allow the wind to scare me and bring tears to my eyes, and forget I know the One who can stop the wind with one command.
I become overwhelmed with fear. Fear that I will never lose the weight. Fear that I will never get out of debt. Fear that I will never accomplish my dreams.
And I forget the One who holds my leash...the One who created me...the One who died for me...the One who has a good plan to prosper me...the One who lovingly untangles me when I stop long enough to allow it.
How about you? Are you unfocused and tangled in any area? Think about it.
I am going to sleep in the sunshine right now. We will talk again soon.
BP :)
But it isn't so cute when I do that. You probably do it, too.
Biggest Loser 2012 is into its fourth week for me and 60 of my closest friends. If you have been tracking with me for any amount of time, you know this is not the first BL contest for me. And the question "Why" is fair, and one I have asked myself so many times in the past year. I was a size 10 for my entire adult life, until 2004.
Seven years of wondering how I let this happen and why I can't reverse it.
I know this for sure: Carrying extra ponds is rarely about FOOD. Maybe it is about a large amount unsecured debt, or a painful relationship, or an energy-sucking job. Maybe it is simply not following your calling. Food issues (whether you are eating too much or too little) are generally about something else in your world.
I am not judging, or saying we should all be a size 10. But that is who I am, and who I will be by summer. And I am not encouraging anyone to ask the question "why" in a way that brings self-scorn or guilt.
Still, it is a question which must be asked if the situation is going to permanently change. Whether I am desiring a change in weight, or financial health, or relationship satisfaction, the first step is to determine the path that brought me here.
Which brings me back to the puppy. He was rolling and jumping and, occasionally being frustrated by the rope leash which either wraps him in a ball or jerks him back when he tries to go too far. Remember, the owner was standing guard, making sure the pup was not harmed. She untangled the rope when the pup was bound, comforted him when he ran too hard and jerked his neck. Then he was back at it again, dragging the leash behind him, never associating the cause and effect.
Do you ever do that? I know I do.
There are benevolent boundaries, a leash if you will, established by my God who made and saved me. Whether you believe in my God or not, you can't escape the fact that life has boundaries. And while I am fully aware of those limits, I cross them frequently, knowingly, and yet, maybe not understanding why.
Currently, I find myself in a position of needing to lose 50 pounds. It happened right under my nose. Literally! I can tell you why I am overweight - I took in more calories, over an extended period of time, that I burned. Not hard, is it? Probably the same reason you have extra pounds.
But overeating is just the symptom. Just like overspending is. Show of hands - who set out to be overweight and under a mountain of debt. Anybody? Uh huh...no hands.
So how did I get to be like this puppy - tangled in a leash of extra pounds, extra stress, too much fear... tired from the struggle?
The puppy is young and silly and doesn't really understand. Me? I am young at heart, sometimes silly, but able to understand...and yet, I lose focus.
Does that happen to you? Are you like me? Do you lose focus, in big and little ways?
Are you like me? Do you forget who you are, who you belong to, why you are here?
Are you like me? Do you subvert your best self in any of the ways I do?
I put food in my mouth mindlessly, out of boredom, out of habit, and forget what havoc the extra pounds wreak.
I put off exercise because my list has so many "important" items, and forget that none of those things will matter if I sacrifice my health.
On a larger scale, I get dirty in mud that others fling into my life, and forget their mud isn't about me.
I allow the wind to scare me and bring tears to my eyes, and forget I know the One who can stop the wind with one command.
I become overwhelmed with fear. Fear that I will never lose the weight. Fear that I will never get out of debt. Fear that I will never accomplish my dreams.
And I forget the One who holds my leash...the One who created me...the One who died for me...the One who has a good plan to prosper me...the One who lovingly untangles me when I stop long enough to allow it.
How about you? Are you unfocused and tangled in any area? Think about it.
I am going to sleep in the sunshine right now. We will talk again soon.
BP :)
Friday, December 2, 2011
Sweaty Fingerprints, Stars, and Bad Pictures
The sauna temperature was 139 degrees this morning when I ran my hand through my hair, then leaned on the wall. The image it left struck me.
I have certainly seen my handprint before. But have I looked at it recently?
From Wikipedia: Fingerprint identification is the process of comparing two instances of friction ridge skin impressions, from human fingers, the palm of the hand or even toes, to determine whether these impressions could have come from the same individual. The flexibility of friction ridge skin means that no two finger or palm prints are ever exactly alike in every detail.
But have I thought recently about what that means?
Doubtful. Who has time to think about fingerprints? Who has time to think at all?
When I was 10, two of my friends came up behind me as I was doing yard chores. They heard me talking, but I was alone. Susie asked what I was doing. I told her I was practicing being interviewed, because one day I was going to be very famous. They looked at each other, then at me, with puzzled faces. After a moment, Susie said, "You're weird!" And off they went.
That notion of special-ness had been with me for as long as I could remember. I always thought I would be different than the average bear, that I was not destined for a "normal" life. Had no idea what that meant, only that I felt that way.
And I remember that day in my front yard as the first time I doubted myself...because my friends doubted.
That's generally how life is. Kids start out thinking nothing is beyond reach...football superstar, homerun king, Broadway actor, being the best teacher or dentist ever. Then the world sneaks in. Friends make fun. Family says, "People like us don't do those things."
We don't disagree. We wonder if they are right. We see "normal/mediocrity" all around us, and, eventually, we believe that is our destiny.
The handprint reminded me of a prodigal spirit of uniqueness.
So did the postcard I received in the mail yesterday. My cousin Kim sent it. Her brother Kerry was sitting beside someone at a summer picnic. It took me a few seconds to realize the person with Kerry is ME.
In a flash, the postcard and sweaty handprint snapped together like puzzle pieces.
I didn't recognize myself.
I didn't recognize myself.
Sheesh...what has happened???
Quite a bit, actually. In the last two years, I have changed careers, walked through cancer with one of my dearest friends, walked through triple bypass with my mom, and had a drawn-out situation that has tested everything I know about faith, trust, strength and patience.
I have been struggling lately. Lost my swag. Misplaced my MoJo.
Has that ever happened to you?
Please understand...you are no less unique than I am. Maybe you never entertained thoughts of being well-known. But there is something you dream about doing or accomplishing. There is a star you long to reach, even if no one else will ever know you reached it.
My star is labeled "Best-selling author/highly sought-after motivational speaker/philanthropist/Blessed to be a blessing."
I have known it, literally, forever. Dreamed it. Practiced it.
And yesterday, I didn't recognize myself. My overweight, MoJo-lacking, momentarily Swag-less self.
I have allowed circumstances to cloud my vision. Circumstances. How ridiculous is that?
You can answer. You've done it too, haven't you?
You have neglected to embrace the uniqueness of the loops and swirls that belong to only you, that are never duplicated. Do you even recognize yourself anymore? Do you still see the star?
Yesterday, I didn't. Today the Light broke through. My circumstances haven't changed. My weight hasn't dropped dramatically.
But in the sweaty handprint, I could see the ten year old practicing for interviews, the kid who always knew she was destined for a BRIGHT star.
All thanks to a really bad picture of me, and a really hot sauna, and the faithful God who made, and never loses sight of, the unique unrepeatable miracle He made in me.
And in you. Look at your hand. It's all there, waiting for you to reach again for the star.
See you soon...BP :)
I have certainly seen my handprint before. But have I looked at it recently?
From Wikipedia: Fingerprint identification is the process of comparing two instances of friction ridge skin impressions, from human fingers, the palm of the hand or even toes, to determine whether these impressions could have come from the same individual. The flexibility of friction ridge skin means that no two finger or palm prints are ever exactly alike in every detail.
But have I thought recently about what that means?
Doubtful. Who has time to think about fingerprints? Who has time to think at all?
When I was 10, two of my friends came up behind me as I was doing yard chores. They heard me talking, but I was alone. Susie asked what I was doing. I told her I was practicing being interviewed, because one day I was going to be very famous. They looked at each other, then at me, with puzzled faces. After a moment, Susie said, "You're weird!" And off they went.
That notion of special-ness had been with me for as long as I could remember. I always thought I would be different than the average bear, that I was not destined for a "normal" life. Had no idea what that meant, only that I felt that way.
And I remember that day in my front yard as the first time I doubted myself...because my friends doubted.
That's generally how life is. Kids start out thinking nothing is beyond reach...football superstar, homerun king, Broadway actor, being the best teacher or dentist ever. Then the world sneaks in. Friends make fun. Family says, "People like us don't do those things."
We don't disagree. We wonder if they are right. We see "normal/mediocrity" all around us, and, eventually, we believe that is our destiny.
The handprint reminded me of a prodigal spirit of uniqueness.
So did the postcard I received in the mail yesterday. My cousin Kim sent it. Her brother Kerry was sitting beside someone at a summer picnic. It took me a few seconds to realize the person with Kerry is ME.
In a flash, the postcard and sweaty handprint snapped together like puzzle pieces.
I didn't recognize myself.
I didn't recognize myself.
Sheesh...what has happened???
Quite a bit, actually. In the last two years, I have changed careers, walked through cancer with one of my dearest friends, walked through triple bypass with my mom, and had a drawn-out situation that has tested everything I know about faith, trust, strength and patience.
I have been struggling lately. Lost my swag. Misplaced my MoJo.
Has that ever happened to you?
Please understand...you are no less unique than I am. Maybe you never entertained thoughts of being well-known. But there is something you dream about doing or accomplishing. There is a star you long to reach, even if no one else will ever know you reached it.
My star is labeled "Best-selling author/highly sought-after motivational speaker/philanthropist/Blessed to be a blessing."
I have known it, literally, forever. Dreamed it. Practiced it.
And yesterday, I didn't recognize myself. My overweight, MoJo-lacking, momentarily Swag-less self.
I have allowed circumstances to cloud my vision. Circumstances. How ridiculous is that?
You can answer. You've done it too, haven't you?
You have neglected to embrace the uniqueness of the loops and swirls that belong to only you, that are never duplicated. Do you even recognize yourself anymore? Do you still see the star?
Yesterday, I didn't. Today the Light broke through. My circumstances haven't changed. My weight hasn't dropped dramatically.
But in the sweaty handprint, I could see the ten year old practicing for interviews, the kid who always knew she was destined for a BRIGHT star.
All thanks to a really bad picture of me, and a really hot sauna, and the faithful God who made, and never loses sight of, the unique unrepeatable miracle He made in me.
And in you. Look at your hand. It's all there, waiting for you to reach again for the star.
See you soon...BP :)
Saturday, November 12, 2011
To Non-Staters: Careful about that pointing finger...
Consider this information from childmolestationprevention.org:
"An estimated one in 20 teenage boys and adult men sexually abuse children, and an estimated one teenage girl or adult woman in every 3,300 females molests children. Although that's well over five million people, most families mistakenly believe that as far as molesters go, there has never been one in their family, and what's more, there never will be.
If we use the conservative estimate that two in every ten little girls and one in every ten little boys are victims (based on the population reported in the 1999 U.S. Census statistical abstract) well over three million children are victims.
Take a moment to think about that. Three million children is a staggering number of children. That's 46 National Football League stadiums packed with children who are, today, being sexually abused, and who believe they have no adult to go to for help."
These are horrifying numbers. The Penn State family is deeply disturbed to have one of our own be among those numbers.
But those outside our family should not be pompously mislead. 1 in 20 men, an estimated 5 million people who are molesters? You are foolish if you think there are no molesters at your university, your church, your country club, your neighborhood.
So, will you join us in this fight or just continue to hate?
Many have expressed outrage over the support we have shown each other. You have mocked us for saying you don't understand. Our Penn State family has 557,000 alumni and 94,000 current students. When a crisis comes, a true family circles the wagons and supports each other. If you don't understand that...well, you don't understand Penn State. We aren't naive, or blind, or ignoring what has happened.
But we are a family and we are so much more than football.
We are the 43rd best university worldwide, according to the 2010 Academic Ranking of World Universities.
We are the top-ranked university according to a 2010 Wall Street Journal survey of 479 corporate recruiters who were asked to identify "whose bachelor degree graduates were the best-trained and educated, and best able to succeed once hired."
We are THON, a student-run philanthropy which has raised more than $78 million for The Four Diamonds Fund at Penn State Hershey Children's Hospital (http://www.thon.org/)
We are #ProudPSUforRAINN (Rape, Abuse, Incest National Network) and we have raised over $255,000 in less than 3 days in support of victims.
We will continue to support the young men who have worked so hard to wear the Blue and White at Beaver Stadium. They have no culpability.
99.999% of us had nothing to do with this horrific crime. None of us are victims.
We are standing together to clean house, to support the victims, to stop abuse.
What are you doing...besides hating?
"An estimated one in 20 teenage boys and adult men sexually abuse children, and an estimated one teenage girl or adult woman in every 3,300 females molests children. Although that's well over five million people, most families mistakenly believe that as far as molesters go, there has never been one in their family, and what's more, there never will be.
If we use the conservative estimate that two in every ten little girls and one in every ten little boys are victims (based on the population reported in the 1999 U.S. Census statistical abstract) well over three million children are victims.
Take a moment to think about that. Three million children is a staggering number of children. That's 46 National Football League stadiums packed with children who are, today, being sexually abused, and who believe they have no adult to go to for help."
These are horrifying numbers. The Penn State family is deeply disturbed to have one of our own be among those numbers.
But those outside our family should not be pompously mislead. 1 in 20 men, an estimated 5 million people who are molesters? You are foolish if you think there are no molesters at your university, your church, your country club, your neighborhood.
So, will you join us in this fight or just continue to hate?
Many have expressed outrage over the support we have shown each other. You have mocked us for saying you don't understand. Our Penn State family has 557,000 alumni and 94,000 current students. When a crisis comes, a true family circles the wagons and supports each other. If you don't understand that...well, you don't understand Penn State. We aren't naive, or blind, or ignoring what has happened.
But we are a family and we are so much more than football.
We are the 43rd best university worldwide, according to the 2010 Academic Ranking of World Universities.
We are the top-ranked university according to a 2010 Wall Street Journal survey of 479 corporate recruiters who were asked to identify "whose bachelor degree graduates were the best-trained and educated, and best able to succeed once hired."
We are THON, a student-run philanthropy which has raised more than $78 million for The Four Diamonds Fund at Penn State Hershey Children's Hospital (http://www.thon.org/)
We are #ProudPSUforRAINN (Rape, Abuse, Incest National Network) and we have raised over $255,000 in less than 3 days in support of victims.
We will continue to support the young men who have worked so hard to wear the Blue and White at Beaver Stadium. They have no culpability.
99.999% of us had nothing to do with this horrific crime. None of us are victims.
We are standing together to clean house, to support the victims, to stop abuse.
What are you doing...besides hating?
Wednesday, November 9, 2011
To All Non-Penn Staters
We know you don't understand. Generally, we don't try to explain. Unless you are a Buckeye or Fighting Irish, you probably don't get how an institution embeds itself in a student's life. And that is fine.
But right now, we want you to know this:
We are distraught and truly sickened by this horror perpetrated on young victims by a man who represented the Blue and White, and perpetuated by others at the University. We aren't blind followers who drink Blue Kool-Aid. We grieve for and with the victims and their families. We pray for them to find healing and peace and a way to live a good life.
We know that while many people had responsibility, the most visible one almost always goes down first. We are not disputing the need for this to happen.
We are not "defending" anything. We are simply crushed and heartbroken. This is not the Penn State we love, the Penn State that is part of our being.
What you know of Joe Paterno probably comes from television or magazine articles.
We know the man who has lived in the same McKee St house for decades. We have chatted with him as he walked to practice. We have eaten ice cream with him at the Creamery. We have studied in the new library wing his money helped build. We have visited the sports museum and spiritual center he also helped build. We have seen him cheering on other Penn State athletes. We know he loves Penn State as much as we do.
Some of our friends, brothers, husbands, sons have been privileged to put on the Blue and White uniform and listen to 100,000 fans in Beaver Stadium. We know how hard they have worked, how much time they have devoted, how many of them have been part of an excellent scholar/athlete legacy...and how much they love this man and this program.
We aren't stupid or naive. We know Joe Paterno has culpability. We know he could have made different choices - he admitted that. We don't think he is God or always perfect or saintly. But he is the greatest college football coach ever, and he is PSU family, and we don't want his exit to be like this.
WE ARE...not closing our eyes, ignoring reports, pretending this isn't a wretched occurrence.
WE ARE...angry that innocents would be violated under our care.
WE ARE...in support of appropriate punishment for every person involved.
WE ARE...demanding change to a system that would allow this.
WE ARE...not concerned if you do not understand our love and devotion.
WE ARE...PENN STATE proud and we will rise again.
.
But right now, we want you to know this:
We are distraught and truly sickened by this horror perpetrated on young victims by a man who represented the Blue and White, and perpetuated by others at the University. We aren't blind followers who drink Blue Kool-Aid. We grieve for and with the victims and their families. We pray for them to find healing and peace and a way to live a good life.
We know that while many people had responsibility, the most visible one almost always goes down first. We are not disputing the need for this to happen.
We are not "defending" anything. We are simply crushed and heartbroken. This is not the Penn State we love, the Penn State that is part of our being.
What you know of Joe Paterno probably comes from television or magazine articles.
We know the man who has lived in the same McKee St house for decades. We have chatted with him as he walked to practice. We have eaten ice cream with him at the Creamery. We have studied in the new library wing his money helped build. We have visited the sports museum and spiritual center he also helped build. We have seen him cheering on other Penn State athletes. We know he loves Penn State as much as we do.
Some of our friends, brothers, husbands, sons have been privileged to put on the Blue and White uniform and listen to 100,000 fans in Beaver Stadium. We know how hard they have worked, how much time they have devoted, how many of them have been part of an excellent scholar/athlete legacy...and how much they love this man and this program.
We aren't stupid or naive. We know Joe Paterno has culpability. We know he could have made different choices - he admitted that. We don't think he is God or always perfect or saintly. But he is the greatest college football coach ever, and he is PSU family, and we don't want his exit to be like this.
WE ARE...not closing our eyes, ignoring reports, pretending this isn't a wretched occurrence.
WE ARE...angry that innocents would be violated under our care.
WE ARE...in support of appropriate punishment for every person involved.
WE ARE...demanding change to a system that would allow this.
WE ARE...not concerned if you do not understand our love and devotion.
WE ARE...PENN STATE proud and we will rise again.
.
Thursday, October 20, 2011
Chizzie's Tale
(Note to readers: I wrote this piece several years ago, but decided to post it today in memory of my sweet Chizzie who passed yesterday at the age of 12.)
Chizzy's Tale
Jeremiah 29:11
This has always been one of my favorite Bible verses - a "life" verse. But just because I have a verse memorized and say it’s a “favorite” doesn’t mean I have fully embodied it. A wise person once told me that God’s plan has two parts, His and mine. I can’t do God’s part – and He won’t do my part. This verse is filled with promise - but do I listen? Do I obey? Do I believe?
One morning, while meditating on this passage, I received inspiration from the cat curled on my lap. Yes, God truly speaks in many ways.
Chizzie is unlike any other cat I’ve had. He is absolutely devoted to me. My friends say he is madly in love with me. And, I guess he is, as much as a cat can be.
When I pull in front of the house, he is waiting in the window, even if I am later than usual. Then he bolts to the front door and does a little dance when I come in. If I park in the garage, he’s waiting at the back door.
He follows me everywhere, and when I sit down, he is immediately on my lap, bumping his head against my arm until I pet him. If he has fallen asleep and I need to move, he doesn’t get irritated, just follows me again.
Every time I speak his name, he looks at me.
He sleeps at my side and his day starts when mine does, even when that’s 5:30am.
When he’s hungry, he waits until I go to the kitchen, then he sits at the top of the stairway leading to the lower level and stares at me. When I start to move toward him, he runs down the stairs… and when I reach the bottom he is sitting in front of the empty bowl waiting.
And I think…I need to be more like this cat!
You see, God has a plan for my life and for yours. It’s a GOOD plan.
But when God is an hour later than I expected him to be, do I still dance for joy? When I am waiting at the front door, and He comes in the back, do I run to Him – or do I let it be known that MY plan was different?
Do I follow Him through every room of my life? Are there rooms I won’t go in? Rooms which are dark and unfamiliar, and because I can’t see the plan at that moment I refuse to go in?
Yes, I do rest in His presence. But if I am comfortable, do I grumble when He says “Get up”?
Do I allow Him to be the “alarm clock” in my day or is it inconvenient to have to change my schedule to cooperate with His masterful plan?
Am I in tune with Him to the degree that I turn and look at Him each time He speaks my name?
And when I have a need, do I keep my eyes on Him? Do I wait with calm assurance knowing my bowl will be filled?
Do you?
God has a plan. It’s a GOOD plan. A plan to prosper me, a plan to give me a good future and hope for my final outcome!
And God keeps His promises. He is going to do His part.
My part is to listen for His voice, trust in His provision, follow where He leads, rest in His presence, and dance for joy.
Chizzie has it right...I should pay attention and do likewise.
Chizzy's Tale
Jeremiah 29:11
This has always been one of my favorite Bible verses - a "life" verse. But just because I have a verse memorized and say it’s a “favorite” doesn’t mean I have fully embodied it. A wise person once told me that God’s plan has two parts, His and mine. I can’t do God’s part – and He won’t do my part. This verse is filled with promise - but do I listen? Do I obey? Do I believe?
One morning, while meditating on this passage, I received inspiration from the cat curled on my lap. Yes, God truly speaks in many ways.
Chizzie is unlike any other cat I’ve had. He is absolutely devoted to me. My friends say he is madly in love with me. And, I guess he is, as much as a cat can be.
When I pull in front of the house, he is waiting in the window, even if I am later than usual. Then he bolts to the front door and does a little dance when I come in. If I park in the garage, he’s waiting at the back door.
He follows me everywhere, and when I sit down, he is immediately on my lap, bumping his head against my arm until I pet him. If he has fallen asleep and I need to move, he doesn’t get irritated, just follows me again.
Every time I speak his name, he looks at me.
He sleeps at my side and his day starts when mine does, even when that’s 5:30am.
When he’s hungry, he waits until I go to the kitchen, then he sits at the top of the stairway leading to the lower level and stares at me. When I start to move toward him, he runs down the stairs… and when I reach the bottom he is sitting in front of the empty bowl waiting.
And I think…I need to be more like this cat!
You see, God has a plan for my life and for yours. It’s a GOOD plan.
But when God is an hour later than I expected him to be, do I still dance for joy? When I am waiting at the front door, and He comes in the back, do I run to Him – or do I let it be known that MY plan was different?
Do I follow Him through every room of my life? Are there rooms I won’t go in? Rooms which are dark and unfamiliar, and because I can’t see the plan at that moment I refuse to go in?
Yes, I do rest in His presence. But if I am comfortable, do I grumble when He says “Get up”?
Do I allow Him to be the “alarm clock” in my day or is it inconvenient to have to change my schedule to cooperate with His masterful plan?
Am I in tune with Him to the degree that I turn and look at Him each time He speaks my name?
And when I have a need, do I keep my eyes on Him? Do I wait with calm assurance knowing my bowl will be filled?
Do you?
God has a plan. It’s a GOOD plan. A plan to prosper me, a plan to give me a good future and hope for my final outcome!
And God keeps His promises. He is going to do His part.
My part is to listen for His voice, trust in His provision, follow where He leads, rest in His presence, and dance for joy.
Chizzie has it right...I should pay attention and do likewise.
Thursday, October 13, 2011
Fleas and other woes I brought on myself
My dog missed getting her flea repellant last month. No big deal, right? One month. How can that hurt?
Let me tell you how...on Monday I shaved and bathed 2 twenty pound cats, stripped my bed to the mattress, then used a flea fogger. Tuesday brought another fogger application, this time in a very large closet where the cats like to sleep. On Wednesday, I bought flea spray which is now being used in addition to flea collars. The dog and I have been sleeping on the couch all week.
So yes, missing one month was a big deal after all. And it was simply negligence on my part. I do remember thinking she needed to be treated, but I wasn't home at the time. And It clearly was not made a priority in my mind.
It happens in your life, doesn't it?
We know something should be done, but it isn't convenient - or even possible - at that moment. "Forgot" is a readily used excuse, but not really valid. I remember most everything I truly want to remember. It's when I don't commit something to memory or take the time to create a reminder that I "forget."
Other times we know but simply ignore. We think other choices are more important...or that no one will know. Maybe we are busy, or it doesn't fit our mood or our needs at the moment. Sometimes we know for certain it is wrong, and we do it anyhow. Because really...what will it hurt?
Sometimes it is maintenance issues on our home, car, body, spirit. Other times it is an ethical or spiritual issue. Always, we ignore the immutable fact that sow = reap. Every time.
There is no reason for me to be irritated by the time-consuming nuisance the fleas have been..it is my own fault. Not the dog's, certainly not the cats'. All mine.
The craziness of my life could be an excuse. Unexpected work issues, unexpected health issues for family members...blah blah blah. Excuses. I knew it needed to be done and I didn't do it.
Conversely, I knew eating whatever I wanted for the past few years was unwise. But in a thousand separate moments, I justified it.
In each of these cases, I choose to do what I FELT LIKE doing. And the result is that now I must do some less than enjoyable tasks to right the situations.
Sow always always always = reap. Don't change the oil, the engine blows. Don't stain the deck, the boards rot. Don't eat well and exercise, the weight comes on. Don't nurture your kids, the relationship is gone. Don't choose love and respect first, the relationship dies.
Certainly, there are situations outside of the norm. But most aren't. We find excuses. We don't feel like trying, don't feel like exerting, don't feel like sacrificing or denying our desires.
One lie, one betrayal, one (more) spouting of hurtful words...we justify it because we have been hurt too, ya know. So that makes it right!
One more day we put off checking the tire pressure, one month we neglect flea repellant...we justify it because we are busy or we don't like to do it.
When we follow our feelings and emotions, when we live the way we want in spite of knowing better, the worm always turns. And we have no one to blame but ourselves. As individuals. As a family. As a society.
Live now by what we want and feel and must have, pay later. Live now by what we know to be right, have more freedom later.
Simple. Not easy.
Gotta run...it's time for another application of flea spray.
See you again soon.
BP :)
Let me tell you how...on Monday I shaved and bathed 2 twenty pound cats, stripped my bed to the mattress, then used a flea fogger. Tuesday brought another fogger application, this time in a very large closet where the cats like to sleep. On Wednesday, I bought flea spray which is now being used in addition to flea collars. The dog and I have been sleeping on the couch all week.
So yes, missing one month was a big deal after all. And it was simply negligence on my part. I do remember thinking she needed to be treated, but I wasn't home at the time. And It clearly was not made a priority in my mind.
It happens in your life, doesn't it?
We know something should be done, but it isn't convenient - or even possible - at that moment. "Forgot" is a readily used excuse, but not really valid. I remember most everything I truly want to remember. It's when I don't commit something to memory or take the time to create a reminder that I "forget."
Other times we know but simply ignore. We think other choices are more important...or that no one will know. Maybe we are busy, or it doesn't fit our mood or our needs at the moment. Sometimes we know for certain it is wrong, and we do it anyhow. Because really...what will it hurt?
Sometimes it is maintenance issues on our home, car, body, spirit. Other times it is an ethical or spiritual issue. Always, we ignore the immutable fact that sow = reap. Every time.
There is no reason for me to be irritated by the time-consuming nuisance the fleas have been..it is my own fault. Not the dog's, certainly not the cats'. All mine.
The craziness of my life could be an excuse. Unexpected work issues, unexpected health issues for family members...blah blah blah. Excuses. I knew it needed to be done and I didn't do it.
Conversely, I knew eating whatever I wanted for the past few years was unwise. But in a thousand separate moments, I justified it.
In each of these cases, I choose to do what I FELT LIKE doing. And the result is that now I must do some less than enjoyable tasks to right the situations.
Sow always always always = reap. Don't change the oil, the engine blows. Don't stain the deck, the boards rot. Don't eat well and exercise, the weight comes on. Don't nurture your kids, the relationship is gone. Don't choose love and respect first, the relationship dies.
Certainly, there are situations outside of the norm. But most aren't. We find excuses. We don't feel like trying, don't feel like exerting, don't feel like sacrificing or denying our desires.
One lie, one betrayal, one (more) spouting of hurtful words...we justify it because we have been hurt too, ya know. So that makes it right!
One more day we put off checking the tire pressure, one month we neglect flea repellant...we justify it because we are busy or we don't like to do it.
When we follow our feelings and emotions, when we live the way we want in spite of knowing better, the worm always turns. And we have no one to blame but ourselves. As individuals. As a family. As a society.
Live now by what we want and feel and must have, pay later. Live now by what we know to be right, have more freedom later.
Simple. Not easy.
Gotta run...it's time for another application of flea spray.
See you again soon.
BP :)
Friday, September 23, 2011
Autumn, fallball, and opportunities galore!
If you know me, you know this is NOT my favorite day of the year. Summer is gone. Yes, as a matter of fact, I do love 90 degrees and sunny. And landscaping chores. And 15 hours of sunlight.
But autumn is not without its charms. Each year the "back to school" spirit inspires and motivates me. It can be a time of new dreams and possibilities, no matter your age. A time of getting back to business after summer fun.
This year, I am standing on the edge of some opportunities that have been a long time coming. How about you? Any exciting possibilities in sight?
Did I hear you say there is nothing exciting on the horizon?
I used to say that, too. It was almost a mantra for me. Then came this realization: The problem was not the horizon. It was my sight. Ouch. And Hallelujah!
Now I have a passion for helping folks see the immense potential that is waiting, right there within arms' reach. Funny how lost time/opportunity makes the present and future seem more urgent. Looking back with regret is futile, and a waste of time and energy. But there are lessons to be learned.
It was my spring of my senior year in high school. I had been accepted to Penn State. Because my high school is large, a PSU representative came to hold try-outs for the Blue Band. I had played clarinet and saxophone for 8 years - had never been told my playing was unsatisfactory. But I was too afraid to try out.
5 months later. Fall semester at University Park. Softball try-outs. I was the last player cut - in fact, my name was visible on the list but had been scratched out. The coach told me I couldn't hit fast-pitch well enough.
Two missed opportunities that shaped my days at Penn State. Please understand - I am not mired in regret. I don't do "What if" because it is unproductive. But these are excellent examples of skewed vision.
There was no good reason to avoid trying out for the Blue Band. I used to believe I had been afraid of failing. Now I believe the fear of success was even stronger. Yea, think about that...
And while the softball incident was upsetting, it was my reaction that cemented the coach's decision and the effect it had on me. I could have worked harder, learned to hit fast-pitch, attended every game, offered to be a student manager then tried out again the following year. What I chose was to not try out for anything else during my time at Penn State. I chose to accept someone else's judgment.
In each case I did what seemed to be easier/safer at the time.
Now, I know that one coach should not have been given the power to hold me down...and easier rarely equals better. That knowledge is a gift. One I am obligated to share with great enthusiasm.
What is in your sight line? What opportunity is waiting for you to grab? Don't tell me you are too old. That's a cop-out. God doesn't open doors of opportunity based on age. Don't tell me you are too busy. If someone hands you a million dollars, you won't be too busy to spend it. But what if it is a million dollar idea? Can you adjust the routine to grab THAT?
Look around. Football players are vying for an opportunity to play more. Softball and baseball players are putting themselves in position to be starters next spring.
What is in your sight line?
Retailers are preparing for the biggest time of the year. Nature is gathering its strength for winter and the impending newness of spring - yes, spring, even now.
What is in your sight line?
Are you ready to grab opportunities? Do you sense a good vibe? Or is your spirit downcast, accepting the same old life, day after day, believing there is nothing better?
Think about it.
Open your eyes. NO - open your heart and mind. Take the first chance...then the next...then the one after.
Remember these words: If you're interested in achieving success, you'll do what's convenient. When you are committed, you'll do whatever it takes. - John Assaraf
We will talk again soon...right now, there is much to do!
BP :)
But autumn is not without its charms. Each year the "back to school" spirit inspires and motivates me. It can be a time of new dreams and possibilities, no matter your age. A time of getting back to business after summer fun.
This year, I am standing on the edge of some opportunities that have been a long time coming. How about you? Any exciting possibilities in sight?
Did I hear you say there is nothing exciting on the horizon?
I used to say that, too. It was almost a mantra for me. Then came this realization: The problem was not the horizon. It was my sight. Ouch. And Hallelujah!
Now I have a passion for helping folks see the immense potential that is waiting, right there within arms' reach. Funny how lost time/opportunity makes the present and future seem more urgent. Looking back with regret is futile, and a waste of time and energy. But there are lessons to be learned.
It was my spring of my senior year in high school. I had been accepted to Penn State. Because my high school is large, a PSU representative came to hold try-outs for the Blue Band. I had played clarinet and saxophone for 8 years - had never been told my playing was unsatisfactory. But I was too afraid to try out.
5 months later. Fall semester at University Park. Softball try-outs. I was the last player cut - in fact, my name was visible on the list but had been scratched out. The coach told me I couldn't hit fast-pitch well enough.
Two missed opportunities that shaped my days at Penn State. Please understand - I am not mired in regret. I don't do "What if" because it is unproductive. But these are excellent examples of skewed vision.
There was no good reason to avoid trying out for the Blue Band. I used to believe I had been afraid of failing. Now I believe the fear of success was even stronger. Yea, think about that...
And while the softball incident was upsetting, it was my reaction that cemented the coach's decision and the effect it had on me. I could have worked harder, learned to hit fast-pitch, attended every game, offered to be a student manager then tried out again the following year. What I chose was to not try out for anything else during my time at Penn State. I chose to accept someone else's judgment.
In each case I did what seemed to be easier/safer at the time.
Now, I know that one coach should not have been given the power to hold me down...and easier rarely equals better. That knowledge is a gift. One I am obligated to share with great enthusiasm.
What is in your sight line? What opportunity is waiting for you to grab? Don't tell me you are too old. That's a cop-out. God doesn't open doors of opportunity based on age. Don't tell me you are too busy. If someone hands you a million dollars, you won't be too busy to spend it. But what if it is a million dollar idea? Can you adjust the routine to grab THAT?
Look around. Football players are vying for an opportunity to play more. Softball and baseball players are putting themselves in position to be starters next spring.
What is in your sight line?
Retailers are preparing for the biggest time of the year. Nature is gathering its strength for winter and the impending newness of spring - yes, spring, even now.
What is in your sight line?
Are you ready to grab opportunities? Do you sense a good vibe? Or is your spirit downcast, accepting the same old life, day after day, believing there is nothing better?
Think about it.
Open your eyes. NO - open your heart and mind. Take the first chance...then the next...then the one after.
Remember these words: If you're interested in achieving success, you'll do what's convenient. When you are committed, you'll do whatever it takes. - John Assaraf
We will talk again soon...right now, there is much to do!
BP :)
Saturday, May 14, 2011
Greek wisdom, one day at a time
Someone asked my age yesterday. The number - 51 - does not bother me in the slightest. It just feels odd to hear myself say it...and I often think, "How did THAT happen?!?"
Of course, the answer is rather simple. It happened one day at a time. Trite but true.
This is it; this is it. / This is life, the one you get, / so go and have a ball!
In the Greek language, there are two words for "time." Chronos is time measured in hours and days. Chronos was also the Greek god thought to be the personification of time. Kairos means the right time, or the opportune time, or a moment when something special happens.
Big difference. We often obsess about chronos and completely miss kairos, don't we? Ironically, chronos is completely out of our control...we can't make more, can't speed it up, slow it down, get it back, move it forward. Kairos is what we can grasp.
Perhaps we have become numb to the message: we have only have one life, each day is a gift...moving through our consciousness with little impact.
This is it. Do we get that? I love my life and am generally mindful of the preciousness of each day. But not always. Some nights come with the realization that I have not truly been present the entire day. "Being" was run over by the freight train called "doing." "Being" - a smiling light, a helper, an encourager, a witness to my faith in Jesus Christ.
Final score for that day: chronos 1, kairos 0
This is it; this is it, / straight ahead, and rest assured, / you can't be sure at all.
Am I alone in having too many days that are just a long "to-do" list?
BUT, you say, there are obligations, steps to take every day. Of course there are. Laundry, groceries, bills, kid taxi, cleaning, work...necessary to life. NOT life itself. Do we get that?
Do we?
We strive to be in control of our job, money, relationships, time. We convince our kids they should follow the "good grades + good college = good job (and maybe good spouse)" plan and life will work out.
And we do them and ourselves a great disservice. Because in truth, there is very little of which we can be sure, and very little, outside our own hearts and heads, that we control.
Do you get that? Have you been there? Have you stood dumbfounded, frozen in place by sudden tragedy?
The doctor says "cancer," a family member takes his own life, a job is lost, a marriage is shattered or the foundation of life is shaken in any of the numerous ways that can happen.
In a second. In the time it takes to turn your head. In those storms, no accomplishments or possessions will keep us afloat. Only loving relationships will carry us to safe shores.
Nothing in this life is certain. Do we get that? Are we prepared?
So, while you're here, enjoy the view, keep on doing what you do. Hold on tight; we'll muddle through
Christopher was 19 when his car rounded the last bend he would see on this earth. He is the oldest child and only son of my dear cousin/sister Kelly. "Utter devastation" is grossly insufficient to describe what this does to a mother and a family. Seven years have not lessened the pain. Nothing will.
So each day Kelly chooses. Chooses to get out of bed, go to work, to laugh when she can and reach out to the people who love her most when she can't. Chooses to enjoy the flowers in the memorial garden she planted the following spring, chooses to be the same person we have always known, chooses to cling tightly to God in the moments when that person is punctured by the thorn in her heart.
Choosing is the essence of life, our great privilege and responsibility. Each day's choices are a step in some direction - forward, back, laterally - we get to choose. Choosing has brought me here...choosing to embrace this life, choosing to value time rather than simply count it, choosing move ahead even in uncertainty, choosing to be present one meal, one golf game, one family gathering, one walk with my dog...all the way to my last breath... one day at a time...
51 is nothing to worry about.
I'm so glad I get it. Do you?
See you next time.
ps. My apologies to readers who know the song - it has been stuck in my head for days. Enjoy.
Of course, the answer is rather simple. It happened one day at a time. Trite but true.
This is it; this is it. / This is life, the one you get, / so go and have a ball!
In the Greek language, there are two words for "time." Chronos is time measured in hours and days. Chronos was also the Greek god thought to be the personification of time. Kairos means the right time, or the opportune time, or a moment when something special happens.
Big difference. We often obsess about chronos and completely miss kairos, don't we? Ironically, chronos is completely out of our control...we can't make more, can't speed it up, slow it down, get it back, move it forward. Kairos is what we can grasp.
Perhaps we have become numb to the message: we have only have one life, each day is a gift...moving through our consciousness with little impact.
This is it. Do we get that? I love my life and am generally mindful of the preciousness of each day. But not always. Some nights come with the realization that I have not truly been present the entire day. "Being" was run over by the freight train called "doing." "Being" - a smiling light, a helper, an encourager, a witness to my faith in Jesus Christ.
Final score for that day: chronos 1, kairos 0
This is it; this is it, / straight ahead, and rest assured, / you can't be sure at all.
Am I alone in having too many days that are just a long "to-do" list?
BUT, you say, there are obligations, steps to take every day. Of course there are. Laundry, groceries, bills, kid taxi, cleaning, work...necessary to life. NOT life itself. Do we get that?
Do we?
We strive to be in control of our job, money, relationships, time. We convince our kids they should follow the "good grades + good college = good job (and maybe good spouse)" plan and life will work out.
And we do them and ourselves a great disservice. Because in truth, there is very little of which we can be sure, and very little, outside our own hearts and heads, that we control.
Do you get that? Have you been there? Have you stood dumbfounded, frozen in place by sudden tragedy?
The doctor says "cancer," a family member takes his own life, a job is lost, a marriage is shattered or the foundation of life is shaken in any of the numerous ways that can happen.
In a second. In the time it takes to turn your head. In those storms, no accomplishments or possessions will keep us afloat. Only loving relationships will carry us to safe shores.
Nothing in this life is certain. Do we get that? Are we prepared?
So, while you're here, enjoy the view, keep on doing what you do. Hold on tight; we'll muddle through
Christopher was 19 when his car rounded the last bend he would see on this earth. He is the oldest child and only son of my dear cousin/sister Kelly. "Utter devastation" is grossly insufficient to describe what this does to a mother and a family. Seven years have not lessened the pain. Nothing will.
So each day Kelly chooses. Chooses to get out of bed, go to work, to laugh when she can and reach out to the people who love her most when she can't. Chooses to enjoy the flowers in the memorial garden she planted the following spring, chooses to be the same person we have always known, chooses to cling tightly to God in the moments when that person is punctured by the thorn in her heart.
Choosing is the essence of life, our great privilege and responsibility. Each day's choices are a step in some direction - forward, back, laterally - we get to choose. Choosing has brought me here...choosing to embrace this life, choosing to value time rather than simply count it, choosing move ahead even in uncertainty, choosing to be present one meal, one golf game, one family gathering, one walk with my dog...all the way to my last breath... one day at a time...
51 is nothing to worry about.
I'm so glad I get it. Do you?
See you next time.
ps. My apologies to readers who know the song - it has been stuck in my head for days. Enjoy.
Monday, January 3, 2011
Krissy Z, Stinky, and my stiff neck
I am going to see Krissy's team play tonight. Haven't seen them for a long time and I'm not sure why. I love basketball , and it would be difficult to find a coach who is more skilled or more animated.
Krissy won her 500th game in February 2010. She started coaching at Saint Vincent's College in Latrobe, PA shortly after graduating from Penn State, and never left. 27 years, 512 wins. Accolades too numerous to mention. So why wasn't I there more often?
Believe me when I tell you this particular writing has been in my head since mid November. I can't keep it in any longer.
I can't keep it in my head any longer because I won't see Krissy at the game tonight. Oh, she will be there for sure, but not for any of us to see. On Dec 25, God took Krissy home. At 52. In a twinkling, unexpectedly.
In the midst of the sadness, I am once again reminded of my stiff neck. The same reminder I got when Stinky passed in November. I didn't write about it then because it is uncomfortable, because I am not proud of my stiff neck. But it is a reminder someone else might need.
Understand that these words have nothing to do with my sleeping posture. Here are synonyms for the stiff-neck in question: bullheaded, obstinate, mulish, stubborn, intractable, willful. God used this term to describe His people during the Exodus. Clearly, it's not a positive trait.
Krissy and I met through mutual friends. She was great fun, a wonderful story-teller, always the life of the party. I knew she was a good coach, and I had attended some games over the years. But in the last nine days I have heard about a Kristen Zawacki I never knew. A coach and athletic director who was held in tremendous esteem by colleagues and administrators alike, a woman who was deeply spiritual.
I truly liked Krissy. I considered her to be a friend, and hope she did likewise. But 2 weeks ago, I would have used to two words to describe her - funny and loud. "Funny" I appreciate very much. But I just don't do "loud" - never have. My stiff neck immediately associates "loud" with obnoxious and overbearing. And it keeps people at arm's length.
It was the same with Stinky. I liked him. I think he liked me. But when he was in the room, you knew it. He was very forward about who he was and what he believed. And I just don't always find that to be necessary or attractive.
Stinky was also immensely gifted at playing character roles, and assisting in production of shows. More than that, he kindled a love of theatre in hundreds of young people...and that gift keeps his spirit alive. He was a beloved son, brother and friend. But the one thing I didn't appreciate about him kept me from embracing any of that.
So, for the most part, I missed the wonder of both Stinky and Krissy because my stiff neck doesn't like "loud." I focused on that one trait that put me off, and missed all the traits that could have connected us. I am not proud of that. It does not reflect the One I follow, the One who preaches love and gentleness with others.
But here are two cool aspects of walking with God: He, thankfully, doesn't bury me with a list of all the ways I need revision at once. AND He sticks with me until I get it, until I learn the lesson.
I thought about my stiff-neck when Stinky died. I did...apparently not hard enough, however. If it had sunk in, would there be opportunity to be more open to Krissy? Could it have changed things in a month? I'll never know.
Two lessons of which I am sure:
1. People have to put up with and overlook things about me. You are probably shocked by that, but it's true.
2. Getting over myself would be a really smart choice, not only so my actions = my beliefs, but also to prevent further recurrence of this nasty feeling.
Maybe you could learn from this lesson as well? Or is it just me?
Here's to a new year of more compassion, and better relationships!
And to Krissy and Stinky...I'm sorry. I look forward to seeing you again...and, yes, to a LOUD reunion.
Krissy won her 500th game in February 2010. She started coaching at Saint Vincent's College in Latrobe, PA shortly after graduating from Penn State, and never left. 27 years, 512 wins. Accolades too numerous to mention. So why wasn't I there more often?
Believe me when I tell you this particular writing has been in my head since mid November. I can't keep it in any longer.
I can't keep it in my head any longer because I won't see Krissy at the game tonight. Oh, she will be there for sure, but not for any of us to see. On Dec 25, God took Krissy home. At 52. In a twinkling, unexpectedly.
In the midst of the sadness, I am once again reminded of my stiff neck. The same reminder I got when Stinky passed in November. I didn't write about it then because it is uncomfortable, because I am not proud of my stiff neck. But it is a reminder someone else might need.
Understand that these words have nothing to do with my sleeping posture. Here are synonyms for the stiff-neck in question: bullheaded, obstinate, mulish, stubborn, intractable, willful. God used this term to describe His people during the Exodus. Clearly, it's not a positive trait.
Krissy and I met through mutual friends. She was great fun, a wonderful story-teller, always the life of the party. I knew she was a good coach, and I had attended some games over the years. But in the last nine days I have heard about a Kristen Zawacki I never knew. A coach and athletic director who was held in tremendous esteem by colleagues and administrators alike, a woman who was deeply spiritual.
I truly liked Krissy. I considered her to be a friend, and hope she did likewise. But 2 weeks ago, I would have used to two words to describe her - funny and loud. "Funny" I appreciate very much. But I just don't do "loud" - never have. My stiff neck immediately associates "loud" with obnoxious and overbearing. And it keeps people at arm's length.
It was the same with Stinky. I liked him. I think he liked me. But when he was in the room, you knew it. He was very forward about who he was and what he believed. And I just don't always find that to be necessary or attractive.
Stinky was also immensely gifted at playing character roles, and assisting in production of shows. More than that, he kindled a love of theatre in hundreds of young people...and that gift keeps his spirit alive. He was a beloved son, brother and friend. But the one thing I didn't appreciate about him kept me from embracing any of that.
So, for the most part, I missed the wonder of both Stinky and Krissy because my stiff neck doesn't like "loud." I focused on that one trait that put me off, and missed all the traits that could have connected us. I am not proud of that. It does not reflect the One I follow, the One who preaches love and gentleness with others.
But here are two cool aspects of walking with God: He, thankfully, doesn't bury me with a list of all the ways I need revision at once. AND He sticks with me until I get it, until I learn the lesson.
I thought about my stiff-neck when Stinky died. I did...apparently not hard enough, however. If it had sunk in, would there be opportunity to be more open to Krissy? Could it have changed things in a month? I'll never know.
Two lessons of which I am sure:
1. People have to put up with and overlook things about me. You are probably shocked by that, but it's true.
2. Getting over myself would be a really smart choice, not only so my actions = my beliefs, but also to prevent further recurrence of this nasty feeling.
Maybe you could learn from this lesson as well? Or is it just me?
Here's to a new year of more compassion, and better relationships!
And to Krissy and Stinky...I'm sorry. I look forward to seeing you again...and, yes, to a LOUD reunion.
Friday, November 12, 2010
Time for a new filter?
What is the rationale behind this cultural phenomenon that allows people over a certain age - 70 or so - to say whatever they want? We all know someone like that, don't we? They say any sarcastic, unkind, grumpy words that pop in their heads. We say their "filter" is gone. And we chuckle a bit, acting like they have earned that right simply by still being alive.
It's true that I can name at least one person in my life, under the age of 70, who also needs a filter replacement. You probably know one or two folks like that, don't you?
Here's an interesting story...
ONCE UPON A TIME a woman bought a new home. Before she moved in, a friend told her the neighbors to the left of her new home were very odd. So HE said.
In a sense, words are encyclopedias of ignorance because they freeze perceptions at one moment in history and then insist we continue to use these frozen perceptions when we should be doing better.” - Edward De Bono
The woman chose to embrace this perception about her neighbors. And guess what? Everything they said to her made them seem odd. Funny how that works.
One day, she and the neighbors found they had a mutual friend. Hmm... the paradigm started to shift. There was common ground. Today, having been given an open door, those "odd" folks have shown themselves to be great friends and neighbors.
Okay, so you weren't on the edge of your seat. But it is a valuable lesson.
“All our knowledge has its origins in our perceptions.” - Leonardo da Vinci
How about this for a confronting thought: everything I see, everyone I meet, every new experience I have, every word I hear, circulates through a filter embedded in my brain, shaped by the words I have heard since childhood. One word, one criticism, one encouraging word at a time. It is inevitable that, up to a certain age, we see things the same way the influential people in our lives see them. Whether it remains that way forever is up to us.
If the doors of perception were cleansed, everything would appear as it is - infinite.”
William Blake
How many people do you touch every day? How many hear your voice, are receivers of your mood and attitude, are affected by whatever is going on in your head? Only everyone you see, pass, speak to.
Every. one. That's a bit overwhelming, isn't it?
And what we project is rooted in our perceptions. We aren't "bad" people...we don't intend harm. But we judge people and situations based on our own or someone else's limited perception. We don't stop to think that the way we see every person and every situation is limited to what our filter allows.
Why oh why must it be this way
Before you can read me you gotta
Learn how to see me, I said
Free your mind and the rest will follow - En Vogue
The GOOD news is that, as an adult, I can create my own filter. Or is that good news? You see, knowledge brings with it responsibility. And adjusting the filter isn't easy.
It means stopping myself every time I am about to whine, or criticize, or offer an opinion when I haven't been asked. It means holding my peace, not riding a roller coaster of emotion and dragging everyone in my path along - whether that is in my home or in the grocery store. It requires dozens of small choices each day, requires asking myself if the words I am about to speak are true, kind and necessary. I don't mean HUGE, life-changing words...I mean the little cuts, the sarcasm, the unnecessary comments. Are the words my own or someone else's? Do those words support all the positve possibilities or are they rooted in negativity?
Most of all, reshaping my filter means resting in who I am, where I came from, and who I belong to. When I am confident in those things, very little can move me, and I am free to embrace, bless and truly see people in my path.
I have a filter. It shapes how I see you. And it shapes how I respond.
My response is my "voice" in this world. I can lift or oppress. I can encourage or discourage. I can embrace or push away. I can judge and condemn or be loving.
What kind of filter will I choose? What kind of voice will I be?
How about you?
Let me know what you think...
BP
http://www.writerighteam.com
http://www.essaywatch.com
It's true that I can name at least one person in my life, under the age of 70, who also needs a filter replacement. You probably know one or two folks like that, don't you?
Here's an interesting story...
ONCE UPON A TIME a woman bought a new home. Before she moved in, a friend told her the neighbors to the left of her new home were very odd. So HE said.
In a sense, words are encyclopedias of ignorance because they freeze perceptions at one moment in history and then insist we continue to use these frozen perceptions when we should be doing better.” - Edward De Bono
The woman chose to embrace this perception about her neighbors. And guess what? Everything they said to her made them seem odd. Funny how that works.
One day, she and the neighbors found they had a mutual friend. Hmm... the paradigm started to shift. There was common ground. Today, having been given an open door, those "odd" folks have shown themselves to be great friends and neighbors.
Okay, so you weren't on the edge of your seat. But it is a valuable lesson.
“All our knowledge has its origins in our perceptions.” - Leonardo da Vinci
How about this for a confronting thought: everything I see, everyone I meet, every new experience I have, every word I hear, circulates through a filter embedded in my brain, shaped by the words I have heard since childhood. One word, one criticism, one encouraging word at a time. It is inevitable that, up to a certain age, we see things the same way the influential people in our lives see them. Whether it remains that way forever is up to us.
If the doors of perception were cleansed, everything would appear as it is - infinite.”
William Blake
How many people do you touch every day? How many hear your voice, are receivers of your mood and attitude, are affected by whatever is going on in your head? Only everyone you see, pass, speak to.
Every. one. That's a bit overwhelming, isn't it?
And what we project is rooted in our perceptions. We aren't "bad" people...we don't intend harm. But we judge people and situations based on our own or someone else's limited perception. We don't stop to think that the way we see every person and every situation is limited to what our filter allows.
Why oh why must it be this way
Before you can read me you gotta
Learn how to see me, I said
Free your mind and the rest will follow - En Vogue
The GOOD news is that, as an adult, I can create my own filter. Or is that good news? You see, knowledge brings with it responsibility. And adjusting the filter isn't easy.
It means stopping myself every time I am about to whine, or criticize, or offer an opinion when I haven't been asked. It means holding my peace, not riding a roller coaster of emotion and dragging everyone in my path along - whether that is in my home or in the grocery store. It requires dozens of small choices each day, requires asking myself if the words I am about to speak are true, kind and necessary. I don't mean HUGE, life-changing words...I mean the little cuts, the sarcasm, the unnecessary comments. Are the words my own or someone else's? Do those words support all the positve possibilities or are they rooted in negativity?
Most of all, reshaping my filter means resting in who I am, where I came from, and who I belong to. When I am confident in those things, very little can move me, and I am free to embrace, bless and truly see people in my path.
I have a filter. It shapes how I see you. And it shapes how I respond.
My response is my "voice" in this world. I can lift or oppress. I can encourage or discourage. I can embrace or push away. I can judge and condemn or be loving.
What kind of filter will I choose? What kind of voice will I be?
How about you?
Let me know what you think...
BP
http://www.writerighteam.com
http://www.essaywatch.com
Tuesday, October 19, 2010
Rick Astley, DIY, and relationships...
Shout out to my friend Kevin for Rick Astley being stuck in my head for a week. It's a corny song by a one (or maybe two) hit wonder...but some of the lyrics are thought provoking. We'll get back to that.
I am building a shelving unit. From scratch, with no design sheet. I saw it in Crate and Barrel magazine and said, "PSSSHTTT. I can MAKE that."
Uh huh.
I have put together my share of build-it-yourself furniture from a box. And I helped my uncle make my entertainment center last year. Clearly, those activities qualify me to start with a sheet of birch wood and make a bookcase.
Uh huh.
The first challenge is my lack of appropriate tools. The circular saw with an 18 tooth blade wasn't effective, nor was the SawzAll. The jigsaw would have worked, except for challenge #2 - lack of appropriate workspace. It is hard to cut small pieces on a straight line while balancing the wood on the edge of a sawhorse. In the driveway. While it is sprinkling on the electric tools.
Having pushed through those obstacles, I started construction yesterday. Again, the unsuitable workspace problem arose. How does one attach shelves to a board without a large table or workbench, without clamps, with only two hands? I started in the garage, then moved to the basement where there is a chest freezer. Right now the unit is on the basement floor. All the shelves are attached but the whole thing is very crooked. It turns out not all the pieces are exactly the right length. Who knew 1/4 inch could make such a difference? ? After this break , where I vent to you, I will go back with the tape measure and level, and the revision process will start.
I could take it apart and put the pieces in the scrap wood pile. Just give up and try to find an easier solution. Maybe overextend my budget and order from Crate and Barrel. Or go a local store and find something which I may or may not like but which will be "good enough."
It's a choice we face pretty often, isn't it? We start something - a job, a bookcase, a new business, a friendship, a diet, a marriage - and we have so much enthusiasm.
Never gonna give you up, never gonna let you down...
Some time goes by and the initial enthusiasm wanes. We face situations for which we don't have the proper tools. Maybe we don't even recognize that insufficiency, and wouldn't begin to know how to fix it if we did. Where would we possibly get different tools?
Or the workspace is inadequate. We need a better job, a bigger house, a faster-working diet, a spouse or friend who knows more/has more/listens better/acquiesces more readily.
I just wanna tell you how I'm feeling...Gotta make you understand...
That's the problem, isn't it? I want to tell you how I'm feeling. I want you to understand me. I don't want the expense of new tools, don't want to bother with revisions. If we have a problem, you need to fix it. If this boss doesn't treat me right, I will keep finding new jobs until I am happy. If this diet doesn't work, I will keep buying new books, subscribing to new services, acquiring new equipment until I find a diet that requires no lifestyle change and no effort.
Does this sound like anyone you know? Look in your garage, basement, closet, heart. The evidence of broken commitments is in all these places. You remember - the project/equipment/idea/person that started out as the "greatest" and became an annoyance because the details were more complicated than expected and you simply couldn't be bothered.
What we fail to recognize is the toll that kind of behavior takes on us. Sure, I could go out today and buy a bookcase. But I would know that I gave up as soon as the build-my-own project hit a snag. I would remember that for a long time.
Never gonna run around and desert you...never gonna make you cry, never gonna say goodbye...
We fail to recognize that every time we give up on someone, every time we break a commitment to marriage or friendship, every time we block someone from our life, we leave a mark on our own heart.
It is a difficult paradox to navigate. We live in a throw-away society. And yet, we are created to be pack animals, to help each other, to love each other. So while some of us believe it is easier to throw away and start again, in all areas of life, that is a fallacy. Only hard work yields a treasure. "Good enough" never really is.
Think about it.
Back to the basement I go. There will be a follow-up report!
A full commitment's what I'm thinking of....
Tee hee...you know you will be singing it for days!
BP
http://www.writerighteam.com
http://www.essaywatch.com
I am building a shelving unit. From scratch, with no design sheet. I saw it in Crate and Barrel magazine and said, "PSSSHTTT. I can MAKE that."
Uh huh.
I have put together my share of build-it-yourself furniture from a box. And I helped my uncle make my entertainment center last year. Clearly, those activities qualify me to start with a sheet of birch wood and make a bookcase.
Uh huh.
The first challenge is my lack of appropriate tools. The circular saw with an 18 tooth blade wasn't effective, nor was the SawzAll. The jigsaw would have worked, except for challenge #2 - lack of appropriate workspace. It is hard to cut small pieces on a straight line while balancing the wood on the edge of a sawhorse. In the driveway. While it is sprinkling on the electric tools.
Having pushed through those obstacles, I started construction yesterday. Again, the unsuitable workspace problem arose. How does one attach shelves to a board without a large table or workbench, without clamps, with only two hands? I started in the garage, then moved to the basement where there is a chest freezer. Right now the unit is on the basement floor. All the shelves are attached but the whole thing is very crooked. It turns out not all the pieces are exactly the right length. Who knew 1/4 inch could make such a difference? ? After this break , where I vent to you, I will go back with the tape measure and level, and the revision process will start.
I could take it apart and put the pieces in the scrap wood pile. Just give up and try to find an easier solution. Maybe overextend my budget and order from Crate and Barrel. Or go a local store and find something which I may or may not like but which will be "good enough."
It's a choice we face pretty often, isn't it? We start something - a job, a bookcase, a new business, a friendship, a diet, a marriage - and we have so much enthusiasm.
Never gonna give you up, never gonna let you down...
Some time goes by and the initial enthusiasm wanes. We face situations for which we don't have the proper tools. Maybe we don't even recognize that insufficiency, and wouldn't begin to know how to fix it if we did. Where would we possibly get different tools?
Or the workspace is inadequate. We need a better job, a bigger house, a faster-working diet, a spouse or friend who knows more/has more/listens better/acquiesces more readily.
I just wanna tell you how I'm feeling...Gotta make you understand...
That's the problem, isn't it? I want to tell you how I'm feeling. I want you to understand me. I don't want the expense of new tools, don't want to bother with revisions. If we have a problem, you need to fix it. If this boss doesn't treat me right, I will keep finding new jobs until I am happy. If this diet doesn't work, I will keep buying new books, subscribing to new services, acquiring new equipment until I find a diet that requires no lifestyle change and no effort.
Does this sound like anyone you know? Look in your garage, basement, closet, heart. The evidence of broken commitments is in all these places. You remember - the project/equipment/idea/person that started out as the "greatest" and became an annoyance because the details were more complicated than expected and you simply couldn't be bothered.
What we fail to recognize is the toll that kind of behavior takes on us. Sure, I could go out today and buy a bookcase. But I would know that I gave up as soon as the build-my-own project hit a snag. I would remember that for a long time.
Never gonna run around and desert you...never gonna make you cry, never gonna say goodbye...
We fail to recognize that every time we give up on someone, every time we break a commitment to marriage or friendship, every time we block someone from our life, we leave a mark on our own heart.
It is a difficult paradox to navigate. We live in a throw-away society. And yet, we are created to be pack animals, to help each other, to love each other. So while some of us believe it is easier to throw away and start again, in all areas of life, that is a fallacy. Only hard work yields a treasure. "Good enough" never really is.
Think about it.
Back to the basement I go. There will be a follow-up report!
A full commitment's what I'm thinking of....
Tee hee...you know you will be singing it for days!
BP
http://www.writerighteam.com
http://www.essaywatch.com
Tuesday, October 12, 2010
Regional planning, Rick Springfield...more perspective
My dear friend Barb shared her thoughts on yesterday's blog. Here are her words:
I am more inclined to encourage dialogue that would force examination of our biased perspective out in the open where it looks foolish. I try to get my students to engage, to challenge, to exchange.
I fully agree with that. And I love her for taking the time to sharing.
Yesterday I was reacquainted with the incredible annoyance known as State Route 228 in southern Butler County. The occasion was dinner with great friends then an interesting class- well worth the irritation.
I don't know the history of PA SR 228 and Interstate 79. I do know that when the two-lane SR228 was designed, there was no plan for insane growth of two communities adjacent to the road. That is very obvious. It's not important that you know exactly where Cranberry Twp and Seven Fields are located, only that their populations have doubled in the past twenty years, and their median family incomes far exceed the state average. Which equals a lot of stores and service businesses and cars. Imagine the burden such growth puts on a two lane road and the regional planners who work with it. Along much of the corridor, there appears to be no room for the road to expand. There are businesses and homes and schools that would seem reluctant to give up property. And yet, people keep coming, businesses keep building.
So what option do the planners have? Throw up their hands and do nothing? Pretend the unexpected didn't happen?
I thought about this today while watching Rick Springfield on GMA. Yes, that's right - "Jessie's Girl" and "General Hospital". He was promoting his new book and spoke of how amazing his wife Barbara is. They have been together for 30 years, and, he says, both know they are better together than apart. Still, he admitted, she has pushed through difficulty... his depression, drug use, infidelity. Unexpected. Not part of the original plan.
Life is like that, isn't it?
We think we are the regional planners for our corner of the world. We think if we build an infrastructure, make a plan for maintenance and growth, life will be smooth.
BAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!! Why do we ever believe that?
We don't get to choose what lousy stuff is going to come into our lives. We only get to choose our response. We get to choose whether we see only from our own perspective or are willing to open ourselves to others.
And you are saying, "Hey Beth...tell me something I DON'T know."
Do we really know? Do we really believe that a new road can't be built every time something unexpected happens. The current road might need to be widened or rerouted. But, it is not feasible or possible or wise to always start over.
Look at the divorce rate, not only for first marriages, but for second and third. 50%, 67%,74%.
Think about the friends or family member you know who have at least one person to whom they refuse to speak.
Do we really know? Are we really willing to open our minds to the perspective of another, even when that person has hurt us.
Are we really willing to listen to what others say about our point of view? Or do we cling to the two-lane road that is no longer sufficient? Do we throw up our hands and run every time the unexpected happens?
We give up on people so easily, don't we? Don't want to hold on through their mess, don't want to help widen the road because it's hard and we might get dirty. We refuse to see that we helped make the mess, that reconfiguring and widening the current road will take us to wonderful new places, places a new road would never find.
Valuable lessons from unusual sources like regional planners and Mrs. Rick Springfield.
I am heading to the garage to work on a 4-shelf stand I am building. It doesn't look like I had planned, but it will work! I am reconfiguring...
BP
http://www.writerighteam.com
http://www.essaywatch.com
I am more inclined to encourage dialogue that would force examination of our biased perspective out in the open where it looks foolish. I try to get my students to engage, to challenge, to exchange.
I fully agree with that. And I love her for taking the time to sharing.
Yesterday I was reacquainted with the incredible annoyance known as State Route 228 in southern Butler County. The occasion was dinner with great friends then an interesting class- well worth the irritation.
I don't know the history of PA SR 228 and Interstate 79. I do know that when the two-lane SR228 was designed, there was no plan for insane growth of two communities adjacent to the road. That is very obvious. It's not important that you know exactly where Cranberry Twp and Seven Fields are located, only that their populations have doubled in the past twenty years, and their median family incomes far exceed the state average. Which equals a lot of stores and service businesses and cars. Imagine the burden such growth puts on a two lane road and the regional planners who work with it. Along much of the corridor, there appears to be no room for the road to expand. There are businesses and homes and schools that would seem reluctant to give up property. And yet, people keep coming, businesses keep building.
So what option do the planners have? Throw up their hands and do nothing? Pretend the unexpected didn't happen?
I thought about this today while watching Rick Springfield on GMA. Yes, that's right - "Jessie's Girl" and "General Hospital". He was promoting his new book and spoke of how amazing his wife Barbara is. They have been together for 30 years, and, he says, both know they are better together than apart. Still, he admitted, she has pushed through difficulty... his depression, drug use, infidelity. Unexpected. Not part of the original plan.
Life is like that, isn't it?
We think we are the regional planners for our corner of the world. We think if we build an infrastructure, make a plan for maintenance and growth, life will be smooth.
BAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!! Why do we ever believe that?
We don't get to choose what lousy stuff is going to come into our lives. We only get to choose our response. We get to choose whether we see only from our own perspective or are willing to open ourselves to others.
And you are saying, "Hey Beth...tell me something I DON'T know."
Do we really know? Do we really believe that a new road can't be built every time something unexpected happens. The current road might need to be widened or rerouted. But, it is not feasible or possible or wise to always start over.
Look at the divorce rate, not only for first marriages, but for second and third. 50%, 67%,74%.
Think about the friends or family member you know who have at least one person to whom they refuse to speak.
Do we really know? Are we really willing to open our minds to the perspective of another, even when that person has hurt us.
Are we really willing to listen to what others say about our point of view? Or do we cling to the two-lane road that is no longer sufficient? Do we throw up our hands and run every time the unexpected happens?
We give up on people so easily, don't we? Don't want to hold on through their mess, don't want to help widen the road because it's hard and we might get dirty. We refuse to see that we helped make the mess, that reconfiguring and widening the current road will take us to wonderful new places, places a new road would never find.
Valuable lessons from unusual sources like regional planners and Mrs. Rick Springfield.
I am heading to the garage to work on a 4-shelf stand I am building. It doesn't look like I had planned, but it will work! I am reconfiguring...
BP
http://www.writerighteam.com
http://www.essaywatch.com
Monday, October 11, 2010
Christopher Columbus and the Strike Zone...it's all about Perspective
I just walked to the mailbox, was puzzled by its emptiness, then remembered today is Columbus Day. We learned in elementary school that Christopher Columbus discovered America? Funny, isn't it...such a matter of perspective.
More fall softball yesterday. It was a glorious day to watch a couple games. And even though the games did not affect any standings, didn't really mean anything as far as win/loss records, fans were still very involved, and somewhat rabid.
The rulebook succinctly defines the strike zone as the area between the forward armpit and the top of the knees, over the plate. But those words don't always play out as clearly as one would think. And from outside of the fence, balls and strikes are a matter of perspective.
So Christopher Columbus believed the world was round while everyone else said it was flat. That's what we were taught in elementary school. And it's not true.
When Christoffa Corombo (in his native Genoese language) set sail for Asia, it was already widely accepted by scientists and astrologists that the world was round. The question was how large the world was? There were two prominent theories, and Columbus chose the wrong one. Which is why he thought he landed in Asia, when it was really what we know today as the Dominican Republic.
He made three voyages, but none of them ever brought him to the place now called the United States. And rather than promoting the false belief that he proved the world wasn't flat, why don't we praise him for his vast knowledge of the trade winds which made it possible for him to return to Europe by a relatively easy path? He didn't find Asia, but he made great strides for trade ships by navigating the easterly and westerly trade winds in the Atlantic Ocean.
The first European to land in the United States was actually Juan Ponce de Leon. Why don't we have a day for him?
And why do we promote the idea that either of these men "discovered" a land, when that land already had inhabits? Because Columbus was the first European (read real/cultured person)? Because we never took the time to understand native American culture? Interesting perspective.
In softball (or baseball), there are only two people who have the necessary perspective to determine balls and strikes - the catcher and the home plate umpire. Not the people in either dugout, or the bleachers. Not the pitcher's parents or the batter's parents.
This is not to say umpires are infallable. They are human, imperfect, and sometimes inconsistent. Sometimes fans sitting directly behind home plate can identify those inconsistencies. But even the clearest view from the stands still has two people between the fan and the pitch. And for the rest of us, it's still a matter of perspective.
We make decisions and tell stories based on our flawed perspective, don't we? We choose the perspective of having a national holiday to honor the first European to touch North America, pretending Native Americans weren't already here.
We argue balls and strikes when we can't even see the entire plate.
But most importantly, we judge others solely based on our own perspective. We don't try to understand, to see through their eyes. We judge their motivation based on what our motivation is, or would be in a similar situation. We make choices to build bridges or walls based on our or someone else's faulty perspective. We withhold the favor of our kindness, and folks who needed us, OR folks who would have blessed us with great friendship are pushed away.
I have even judged right after a church service, about others who attended that same service.
Maybe I am alone in that. You have probably never judged based on a faulty perspective, have you?
Please understand, I have nothing against Christopher Columbus, and certainly fans have a right to be reasonable vocal.
But those minor points aside, wouldn't the world be a better place if we considered our own biased perspective before making a judgment?
I think so. I would love to hear what you think.
Gotta run to the bank...oh wait...
Happy Columbus-lands-in theDominican-Republic Day!
BP
http://www.writerighteam.com
http://www.essaywatch.com
More fall softball yesterday. It was a glorious day to watch a couple games. And even though the games did not affect any standings, didn't really mean anything as far as win/loss records, fans were still very involved, and somewhat rabid.
The rulebook succinctly defines the strike zone as the area between the forward armpit and the top of the knees, over the plate. But those words don't always play out as clearly as one would think. And from outside of the fence, balls and strikes are a matter of perspective.
So Christopher Columbus believed the world was round while everyone else said it was flat. That's what we were taught in elementary school. And it's not true.
When Christoffa Corombo (in his native Genoese language) set sail for Asia, it was already widely accepted by scientists and astrologists that the world was round. The question was how large the world was? There were two prominent theories, and Columbus chose the wrong one. Which is why he thought he landed in Asia, when it was really what we know today as the Dominican Republic.
He made three voyages, but none of them ever brought him to the place now called the United States. And rather than promoting the false belief that he proved the world wasn't flat, why don't we praise him for his vast knowledge of the trade winds which made it possible for him to return to Europe by a relatively easy path? He didn't find Asia, but he made great strides for trade ships by navigating the easterly and westerly trade winds in the Atlantic Ocean.
The first European to land in the United States was actually Juan Ponce de Leon. Why don't we have a day for him?
And why do we promote the idea that either of these men "discovered" a land, when that land already had inhabits? Because Columbus was the first European (read real/cultured person)? Because we never took the time to understand native American culture? Interesting perspective.
In softball (or baseball), there are only two people who have the necessary perspective to determine balls and strikes - the catcher and the home plate umpire. Not the people in either dugout, or the bleachers. Not the pitcher's parents or the batter's parents.
This is not to say umpires are infallable. They are human, imperfect, and sometimes inconsistent. Sometimes fans sitting directly behind home plate can identify those inconsistencies. But even the clearest view from the stands still has two people between the fan and the pitch. And for the rest of us, it's still a matter of perspective.
We make decisions and tell stories based on our flawed perspective, don't we? We choose the perspective of having a national holiday to honor the first European to touch North America, pretending Native Americans weren't already here.
We argue balls and strikes when we can't even see the entire plate.
But most importantly, we judge others solely based on our own perspective. We don't try to understand, to see through their eyes. We judge their motivation based on what our motivation is, or would be in a similar situation. We make choices to build bridges or walls based on our or someone else's faulty perspective. We withhold the favor of our kindness, and folks who needed us, OR folks who would have blessed us with great friendship are pushed away.
I have even judged right after a church service, about others who attended that same service.
Maybe I am alone in that. You have probably never judged based on a faulty perspective, have you?
Please understand, I have nothing against Christopher Columbus, and certainly fans have a right to be reasonable vocal.
But those minor points aside, wouldn't the world be a better place if we considered our own biased perspective before making a judgment?
I think so. I would love to hear what you think.
Gotta run to the bank...oh wait...
Happy Columbus-lands-in theDominican-Republic Day!
BP
http://www.writerighteam.com
http://www.essaywatch.com
Tuesday, October 5, 2010
Photosynthesis, Fall Ball, and Marky Mark
Quick... what significant event occurred on Oct 5, 1991? Think hard...we'll come back to it in a minute.
Many folks in this area have been clamoring for the end of summer, for autumn to descend. And, oh goodness, it has. Rain. High temperatures in the low 50's. Yep. Autumn is here.
I understand what people wanted. A break from heat and high humidity. Days in the 60's, nights in the 50's. Beautiful colors on the trees. I get that. Autumn surely has its own set of attractions.
Interesting thought about photosynthesis: what we appreciate about it - brightly colored leaves - is only a brief and cosmetic part of an amazing process. While the most highly developed creatures (that would be us, folks) grumble and complain about snow, cold, and ice, the trees follow the sun's direction and begin to prepare in early September. They shut down growth, drop their food supply and prepare for the storms. What we see as beautiful color is the tree's way of preservation. And while we look at the spring buds with wonder, it was the bare tree standing firm through the winter that was the real miracle. The leaves aren't just beautiful, they are also a signal. It's more than what the eye immediately sees.
Football. High school, college, professional. Do you love it like I do? Fall is also a great time to golf...and to watch softball.
I love the intricacies of fast pitch softball. Yes, home runs and strike-outs are fun. But small ball is what wins games - solid defense, smart base running, moving the runners over - this is the foundational stuff that makes a championship team. Winning is always great, but fall ball is about building and learning. Spectators cheer when runs are scored, but the process, the skills being learned, the habits being formed are the true worth. Fall ball is more than what the eye immediately sees.
Which brings us back to Oct 5, 1991. Not really a significant day, unless you are Mark Wahlberg. That's right. Good Vibrations went to #1 on the Billboard chart that day. Marky Mark: NKOTB drop-out turned petty thief turned rapper . You remember. The song had a good beat, but the kid was a fluke, right? Then he made an exercise video. Still a fluke. Now he is an Academy Award nominated actor, a successful producer and director of film and television. Marky Mark was more than what the eyes could immediately see.
We do that so often, don't we? We judge what we see - or what we THINK we see. We don't ask questions. We don't even imagine the truth might be different than our limited perspective shows. We don't consider the process, only the immediate view. We guess at people's lives and motivations.
That situation or person I judged yesterday could be completely different than what I "saw." And I may have forfeited the chance to see the whole picture, the truth.
Maybe you have never done that. Maybe it's just me.
Photosynthesis, fall ball, Markey Mark...more than what the eye immediately sees.
It's such a good vibration...it's such a sweet sensation...
Have a great day!
BP
http://www.writerighteam.com
http://www.essaywatch.com
Many folks in this area have been clamoring for the end of summer, for autumn to descend. And, oh goodness, it has. Rain. High temperatures in the low 50's. Yep. Autumn is here.
I understand what people wanted. A break from heat and high humidity. Days in the 60's, nights in the 50's. Beautiful colors on the trees. I get that. Autumn surely has its own set of attractions.
Interesting thought about photosynthesis: what we appreciate about it - brightly colored leaves - is only a brief and cosmetic part of an amazing process. While the most highly developed creatures (that would be us, folks) grumble and complain about snow, cold, and ice, the trees follow the sun's direction and begin to prepare in early September. They shut down growth, drop their food supply and prepare for the storms. What we see as beautiful color is the tree's way of preservation. And while we look at the spring buds with wonder, it was the bare tree standing firm through the winter that was the real miracle. The leaves aren't just beautiful, they are also a signal. It's more than what the eye immediately sees.
Football. High school, college, professional. Do you love it like I do? Fall is also a great time to golf...and to watch softball.
I love the intricacies of fast pitch softball. Yes, home runs and strike-outs are fun. But small ball is what wins games - solid defense, smart base running, moving the runners over - this is the foundational stuff that makes a championship team. Winning is always great, but fall ball is about building and learning. Spectators cheer when runs are scored, but the process, the skills being learned, the habits being formed are the true worth. Fall ball is more than what the eye immediately sees.
Which brings us back to Oct 5, 1991. Not really a significant day, unless you are Mark Wahlberg. That's right. Good Vibrations went to #1 on the Billboard chart that day. Marky Mark: NKOTB drop-out turned petty thief turned rapper . You remember. The song had a good beat, but the kid was a fluke, right? Then he made an exercise video. Still a fluke. Now he is an Academy Award nominated actor, a successful producer and director of film and television. Marky Mark was more than what the eyes could immediately see.
We do that so often, don't we? We judge what we see - or what we THINK we see. We don't ask questions. We don't even imagine the truth might be different than our limited perspective shows. We don't consider the process, only the immediate view. We guess at people's lives and motivations.
That situation or person I judged yesterday could be completely different than what I "saw." And I may have forfeited the chance to see the whole picture, the truth.
Maybe you have never done that. Maybe it's just me.
Photosynthesis, fall ball, Markey Mark...more than what the eye immediately sees.
It's such a good vibration...it's such a sweet sensation...
Have a great day!
BP
http://www.writerighteam.com
http://www.essaywatch.com
Monday, October 4, 2010
81 Days???
I was in a store today looking for Halloween decorations...had trouble finding them among the CHRISTMAS things!!! HELLO!!! What about Halloween and Thanksgiving?
Then the cashier reminded me that we have only 81 shopping days until Christmas.
Thanks, lady.
When I was a kid and "couldn't wait" for christmas/birthday/vacation/etc, my beloved Grandma would caution me about "wishing my life away"...and on the back side of my fiftieth year, I finally understand what she means.
Isn't it odd and confronting to think about your parents and grandparents at the age you are now? When my mom was 50, I was 29. We went to Disney and Pirates spring training camp to celebrate her 50th birthday. And now I am that age???
My grandmother was 52 when I was born. I still feel young, but I don't ever remember thinking my grandma was anything but old.
Funny how that works.
Death doesn't scare me at all, because I know what eternity holds.
Still, I have much left to do in my life...much to write, many people to touch, many ways to make a difference, many things to do for God. And the wheels spin faster each year.
It's rather counterintuitive to waste time thinking about it, so this blog will be short =)
But I believe it is something we all experience...and you know me, always wanting to share my thoughts!
Have a terrific day...make it a great one!!
Beth
http://writerighteam.com/
http://www.essaywatch.com/
Then the cashier reminded me that we have only 81 shopping days until Christmas.
Thanks, lady.
When I was a kid and "couldn't wait" for christmas/birthday/vacation/etc, my beloved Grandma would caution me about "wishing my life away"...and on the back side of my fiftieth year, I finally understand what she means.
Isn't it odd and confronting to think about your parents and grandparents at the age you are now? When my mom was 50, I was 29. We went to Disney and Pirates spring training camp to celebrate her 50th birthday. And now I am that age???
My grandmother was 52 when I was born. I still feel young, but I don't ever remember thinking my grandma was anything but old.
Funny how that works.
Death doesn't scare me at all, because I know what eternity holds.
Still, I have much left to do in my life...much to write, many people to touch, many ways to make a difference, many things to do for God. And the wheels spin faster each year.
It's rather counterintuitive to waste time thinking about it, so this blog will be short =)
But I believe it is something we all experience...and you know me, always wanting to share my thoughts!
Have a terrific day...make it a great one!!
Beth
http://writerighteam.com/
http://www.essaywatch.com/
Saturday, August 21, 2010
Am I My Resume and other life questions
Resume. Most of us have created one, used it to secure a desired job. A well-constructed resume details education/training, experience, a list of "here's-why-you-should-hire-me" skills.
One of my favorite musical theater lyrics is from A Chorus Line: Who am I anyway/Am I my resume?/ That is a picture of a person I don't know...
Can you identify?
Recently a dear friend (a fabulous marketing entrepreneur) suggested I write a personal resume, a "who am I and what do I like" document.
We had a plan for it...but, as often happens, the plan changed and we both found the process itself was a gift.
Why a gift, you ask? Think about this: when you meet someone new, how often is your job the first descriptor you use to describe yourself? Or where you live, or where you went to college, or how many letters you have after your name?
But none of those things really tell me about YOU!
This week I also started reading The Book of Secrets, by Deepak Chopra. The subtitle is Unlocking the Hidden Dimensions of Your Life.
I believe I haven't fully done that. Have you?
So here goes:
I am an excellent writer. Love to write about and hang with people who are passionate about and successful in their work (the two almost always go hand in hand).
I am F-U-U-U-nny, honest, loyal, trustworthy. People tell me I am a skilled listener and very easy to talk to. I believe really paying attention to people is one of the best ways to honor them. If you are willing to listen and pay attention, people will eventually show you who they are and what they want.
I love to cook and bake, and do it rather well. I am willing to try any kind of food but Italian and Mediterranean are my favorite. I make homemade pasta and sauce - doesn't matter what noodle type but my lasagna is really good! Tzatziki, dolmathakia, spanakopita, kourambiedes, kibbeh, tabbouleh are some of my Mediterranean favorites. I have made baklava but it is a PIA. And sometimes I am a good 'ole Western PA girl who likes kielbassi and pierogi.
I find football and hoops to be thoroughly enjoyable...but LOVE softball/baseball and golf. The intricacies, details and strategies of both sports fascinate me. Anyone who thinks baseball/softball is slow and boring doesn't have an appreciation for the beauty of the game. As for golf, I believe there are two kinds of golfers: ones who are just happy to hit the ball around (no matter their skill level) and ones who really love the game, who see it as a mental game as much as physical, who think about their shots long after they leave the course.
If the government banned the sale of potato chips, I would have to quickly find a black market dealer...otherwise the withdrawal would be ugly.
My dog is my favorite being on this earth. I think the feeling is mutual.
I have an incredible family and would not be who I am without them.
I believe excellence is a habit, and its foundation is in the details. When we do the small things with excellence, the big things will take care of themselves - in excellent fashion.
Likes:
Making someone laugh unexpectedly
Shooting stars
Sun on my face
A book that is so good it keeps me awake trying to finish it
Having my feet in a blue ocean/sea
A checkerboard in the outfield grass
The sound of the club hitting the ball...when it's good you don't even have to look, you just feel it
Eyes that smile
Tomatoes from my garden
Organization
A day on a boat
Watching my dog roll in freshly cut grass
Sitting on my porch with coffee and my Bible
Dislikes:
Deception/people who talk from both sides of their mouth
Warm beer
Decisions governed by fear (my own or others)
Gossip
When my food runs together on the plate
Drama
Posers
Closed minds
There it is - the first draft of my resume about ME. Comments are welcome.
So how about you? Who are you behind the titles and the degrees and the address and the church affiliation?
Try it...see what the answer is to this:
Who would you be, if no one told you who you were?
You might be surprised.
One of my favorite musical theater lyrics is from A Chorus Line: Who am I anyway/Am I my resume?/ That is a picture of a person I don't know...
Can you identify?
Recently a dear friend (a fabulous marketing entrepreneur) suggested I write a personal resume, a "who am I and what do I like" document.
We had a plan for it...but, as often happens, the plan changed and we both found the process itself was a gift.
Why a gift, you ask? Think about this: when you meet someone new, how often is your job the first descriptor you use to describe yourself? Or where you live, or where you went to college, or how many letters you have after your name?
But none of those things really tell me about YOU!
This week I also started reading The Book of Secrets, by Deepak Chopra. The subtitle is Unlocking the Hidden Dimensions of Your Life.
I believe I haven't fully done that. Have you?
So here goes:
I am an excellent writer. Love to write about and hang with people who are passionate about and successful in their work (the two almost always go hand in hand).
I am F-U-U-U-nny, honest, loyal, trustworthy. People tell me I am a skilled listener and very easy to talk to. I believe really paying attention to people is one of the best ways to honor them. If you are willing to listen and pay attention, people will eventually show you who they are and what they want.
I love to cook and bake, and do it rather well. I am willing to try any kind of food but Italian and Mediterranean are my favorite. I make homemade pasta and sauce - doesn't matter what noodle type but my lasagna is really good! Tzatziki, dolmathakia, spanakopita, kourambiedes, kibbeh, tabbouleh are some of my Mediterranean favorites. I have made baklava but it is a PIA. And sometimes I am a good 'ole Western PA girl who likes kielbassi and pierogi.
I find football and hoops to be thoroughly enjoyable...but LOVE softball/baseball and golf. The intricacies, details and strategies of both sports fascinate me. Anyone who thinks baseball/softball is slow and boring doesn't have an appreciation for the beauty of the game. As for golf, I believe there are two kinds of golfers: ones who are just happy to hit the ball around (no matter their skill level) and ones who really love the game, who see it as a mental game as much as physical, who think about their shots long after they leave the course.
If the government banned the sale of potato chips, I would have to quickly find a black market dealer...otherwise the withdrawal would be ugly.
My dog is my favorite being on this earth. I think the feeling is mutual.
I have an incredible family and would not be who I am without them.
I believe excellence is a habit, and its foundation is in the details. When we do the small things with excellence, the big things will take care of themselves - in excellent fashion.
Likes:
Making someone laugh unexpectedly
Shooting stars
Sun on my face
A book that is so good it keeps me awake trying to finish it
Having my feet in a blue ocean/sea
A checkerboard in the outfield grass
The sound of the club hitting the ball...when it's good you don't even have to look, you just feel it
Eyes that smile
Tomatoes from my garden
Organization
A day on a boat
Watching my dog roll in freshly cut grass
Sitting on my porch with coffee and my Bible
Dislikes:
Deception/people who talk from both sides of their mouth
Warm beer
Decisions governed by fear (my own or others)
Gossip
When my food runs together on the plate
Drama
Posers
Closed minds
There it is - the first draft of my resume about ME. Comments are welcome.
So how about you? Who are you behind the titles and the degrees and the address and the church affiliation?
Try it...see what the answer is to this:
Who would you be, if no one told you who you were?
You might be surprised.
Thursday, July 29, 2010
Stream of consciousness...or just me talking
Joni told me the Softball blog was "just okay." She is a dear friend, and trusted reader...and I appreciate her honesty. I could feel it when I was writing. Just couldn't get to the point.
We have days like that, don't we? Days when we aren't feeling it, when everything falls a bit short of the mark. But I am a writer and I needed to write. So today I am simply going to write. No goal direction. Just whatever is on my mind. Scary.
One of my friends got positive news about a biopsy today. Positive as in GREAT, as in no cancer. It is the result for which many of us have diligently prayed, as she has already beaten cancer twice. So YAY!!! Huge relief.
Is it hard for you when a pray is answered and your prayer request seems to be on hold? It's hard for me. I am truly thankful for the negative biopsy and happy for my friend. And I know and believe my request is being answered...I just can't see the answer and I WANT TO SEE IT NOW!
Maybe you aren't like that. Might be just me.
My dog hasn't felt well for a couple days. I wish she would tell me what's wrong. That language barrier is frustrating. Or maybe she is being passive/aggressive - she's not going to tell me what she needs until I don't do it...then she will BITE my head. Nah, she is too sweet and straightforward for that. Don't you wish some people were more like dogs?
Giant Eagle is giving away more pharmaceuticals. First it was antibiotics. Now it is diabetes meds. They have "formed an agreement" to provide these drugs at no cost.
Okay, firstly (!) NOTHING is free. Someone is paying. Big Pharma does not give drugs away free. Secondly, how about if we truly want to combat diabetes we give fruits and vegetables away. Or gym memberships. How about we treat the problem and not the symptoms? Crazy idea, isn't it?
Which reminds me of how annoying Walmart is. Very. I avoid it at all cost. Because if I do suffer temporary insanity and visit the Big Box, I am immediately accosted by people screaming at their crying kids. Often, it is two people...which means...ONE OF YOU SHOULD HAVE STAYED HOME...with the kids. Just a suggestion.
And I am shocked/amused when people say, "They moved things around in Walmart. I had to walk all over the store. I went in for one thing and spent $75." Seriously, someone should inform Walmart - they may want to develop a marketing strategy around that.
Why do we always want the weather to be different than what it is? All over Facebook: "I wish it was autumn." Don't get me wrong. I love autumn. But it only lasts, like, 10 days in Western PA! Autumn is not a season here...it is a blink. If I am wishing for a different time than right now, it is surely NOT going to be for a future date ("Don't wish your life away" - Helen Painter). I am wishing summer before 7th grade. I want to go back. SHEESH...I don't want time to go faster.
I will stop with the stream of consciousness now BECAUSE I have something very fun to do. I am going to drive a scooter for the first time. Got my motorcycle permit last week. I have always thought a motorcycle would be fun, but not a responsible choice. Not sure what changed my mind...maybe driving one will reinforce my original thought? We'll see...
Thanks for hanging with me today. Next time I will be more focused...maybe...
We have days like that, don't we? Days when we aren't feeling it, when everything falls a bit short of the mark. But I am a writer and I needed to write. So today I am simply going to write. No goal direction. Just whatever is on my mind. Scary.
One of my friends got positive news about a biopsy today. Positive as in GREAT, as in no cancer. It is the result for which many of us have diligently prayed, as she has already beaten cancer twice. So YAY!!! Huge relief.
Is it hard for you when a pray is answered and your prayer request seems to be on hold? It's hard for me. I am truly thankful for the negative biopsy and happy for my friend. And I know and believe my request is being answered...I just can't see the answer and I WANT TO SEE IT NOW!
Maybe you aren't like that. Might be just me.
My dog hasn't felt well for a couple days. I wish she would tell me what's wrong. That language barrier is frustrating. Or maybe she is being passive/aggressive - she's not going to tell me what she needs until I don't do it...then she will BITE my head. Nah, she is too sweet and straightforward for that. Don't you wish some people were more like dogs?
Giant Eagle is giving away more pharmaceuticals. First it was antibiotics. Now it is diabetes meds. They have "formed an agreement" to provide these drugs at no cost.
Okay, firstly (!) NOTHING is free. Someone is paying. Big Pharma does not give drugs away free. Secondly, how about if we truly want to combat diabetes we give fruits and vegetables away. Or gym memberships. How about we treat the problem and not the symptoms? Crazy idea, isn't it?
Which reminds me of how annoying Walmart is. Very. I avoid it at all cost. Because if I do suffer temporary insanity and visit the Big Box, I am immediately accosted by people screaming at their crying kids. Often, it is two people...which means...ONE OF YOU SHOULD HAVE STAYED HOME...with the kids. Just a suggestion.
And I am shocked/amused when people say, "They moved things around in Walmart. I had to walk all over the store. I went in for one thing and spent $75." Seriously, someone should inform Walmart - they may want to develop a marketing strategy around that.
Why do we always want the weather to be different than what it is? All over Facebook: "I wish it was autumn." Don't get me wrong. I love autumn. But it only lasts, like, 10 days in Western PA! Autumn is not a season here...it is a blink. If I am wishing for a different time than right now, it is surely NOT going to be for a future date ("Don't wish your life away" - Helen Painter). I am wishing summer before 7th grade. I want to go back. SHEESH...I don't want time to go faster.
I will stop with the stream of consciousness now BECAUSE I have something very fun to do. I am going to drive a scooter for the first time. Got my motorcycle permit last week. I have always thought a motorcycle would be fun, but not a responsible choice. Not sure what changed my mind...maybe driving one will reinforce my original thought? We'll see...
Thanks for hanging with me today. Next time I will be more focused...maybe...
Tuesday, July 27, 2010
Softball practice, curveballs, and other life lessons
My niece Kerrin is going to college on a softball scholarship. I know, right? SO exciting.
School doesn't start for another month, but she has already been practicing with her college coach - of course, this is not new to her. The kid has been practicing softball A LOT for 10 years . And it has paid off! Kerrin is an excellent pitcher, with five pitches that will each have you swinging at air.
Imagine: you are at the plate, 43 feet away from the pitching rubber, and here comes the rise ball at 60+ mph. It is a scientific fact that a softball hitter has less reaction time than a baseball hitter. Step it off yourself - 43 feet is not very far. How about the fastball at 59mph? Then, just when you have your bat moving quickly, the change-up comes in at 45mph...and you look like a fool.
Maybe the hardest pitch to judge is the curveball/screwball. It is the same speed as the fastball, and could be mistaken for a high fastball initially...then suddenly turns away from the batter (or into the batter if it is a screwball). So you think you are preparing for one thing then BAM, the direction changes. OOOO it makes the batter MAD to swing through the center of the plate, only to watch the ball move away.
That is a great thing to see when you are cheering for the pitcher...not great for the hitter's fans...not great in life.
You know what I mean, don't you.
We all have curveballs thrown our way. That's just life. An illness, job loss, unforeseen expenses that put our finances in disarray. Each of us gets our share of naturally occurring curveballs.
But what about the ones that aren't naturally occurring? What about the ones people intentionally throw? Those are harder, aren't they?
Someone lies to you, speaks nasty words about you, abuses your trust...HUGE curveball. You swing and miss, then life goes on. Right?
WRONG.
It's almost as if each curveball gets stuck in a pitching machine until we hit it. You think it's gone...then, in the middle of your day, there is the curveball again. And the emotions it brings are still strong.
So what do we do?
Here is advice from a softball coach on hitting a curveball: Learn to hit the fastball or you will never hit the curve; Learn to hit the opposite way - it may not be a power hit but it can still be a hit; study the pitcher - there are generally clues to when a curve is coming; practice then practice then practice.
Funny how softball imitates life.
Learn to deal with everyday life, be balanced. Then when someone throws a curve, it won't knock you down completely.
Learn to adjust your swing, so you can make something good happen, even if it is not a proverbial homerun.
Study the pitcher so you can see the signs.
Oh, I am so not good at this one.
Actually I AM good at catching the signs. Discernment is a strongpoint and gift of mine. I just don't always listen to my gut when it concerns me.
I see the signs. But I refuse to believe. I refuse because this is not softball...it's life and we aren't supposed to deliberately throw curves. My refusal does not always change the situation.
I have only had a couple folks who have thrown one curve after another while I stood in the box waiting for the next one. You've had at least one as well, haven't you? Of course you have.
But here is the great thing...practice helps solve this problem. Don't misunderstand. I don't mean subject yourself to abuse or drama. I mean practice balance everywhere else. Practice good relationships with others. Practice quietness of your soul and spirit.
I have found that diligent practice of these positive vibes give me the ability to see the curve coming and HIT IT! And when you hit it often, one of two things happens: the pitcher doesn't throw the curve anymore, or the pitcher is removed from the game.
Kerrin has a great curve that will one day land her in a Division I pitching circle. I am cheering mightily for that!
But none of us needs deliberately thrown curveballs.
Life is hard enough. How about we support each other in getting rid of the nasty pitchers...Whattaya say?
School doesn't start for another month, but she has already been practicing with her college coach - of course, this is not new to her. The kid has been practicing softball A LOT for 10 years . And it has paid off! Kerrin is an excellent pitcher, with five pitches that will each have you swinging at air.
Imagine: you are at the plate, 43 feet away from the pitching rubber, and here comes the rise ball at 60+ mph. It is a scientific fact that a softball hitter has less reaction time than a baseball hitter. Step it off yourself - 43 feet is not very far. How about the fastball at 59mph? Then, just when you have your bat moving quickly, the change-up comes in at 45mph...and you look like a fool.
Maybe the hardest pitch to judge is the curveball/screwball. It is the same speed as the fastball, and could be mistaken for a high fastball initially...then suddenly turns away from the batter (or into the batter if it is a screwball). So you think you are preparing for one thing then BAM, the direction changes. OOOO it makes the batter MAD to swing through the center of the plate, only to watch the ball move away.
That is a great thing to see when you are cheering for the pitcher...not great for the hitter's fans...not great in life.
You know what I mean, don't you.
We all have curveballs thrown our way. That's just life. An illness, job loss, unforeseen expenses that put our finances in disarray. Each of us gets our share of naturally occurring curveballs.
But what about the ones that aren't naturally occurring? What about the ones people intentionally throw? Those are harder, aren't they?
Someone lies to you, speaks nasty words about you, abuses your trust...HUGE curveball. You swing and miss, then life goes on. Right?
WRONG.
It's almost as if each curveball gets stuck in a pitching machine until we hit it. You think it's gone...then, in the middle of your day, there is the curveball again. And the emotions it brings are still strong.
So what do we do?
Here is advice from a softball coach on hitting a curveball: Learn to hit the fastball or you will never hit the curve; Learn to hit the opposite way - it may not be a power hit but it can still be a hit; study the pitcher - there are generally clues to when a curve is coming; practice then practice then practice.
Funny how softball imitates life.
Learn to deal with everyday life, be balanced. Then when someone throws a curve, it won't knock you down completely.
Learn to adjust your swing, so you can make something good happen, even if it is not a proverbial homerun.
Study the pitcher so you can see the signs.
Oh, I am so not good at this one.
Actually I AM good at catching the signs. Discernment is a strongpoint and gift of mine. I just don't always listen to my gut when it concerns me.
I see the signs. But I refuse to believe. I refuse because this is not softball...it's life and we aren't supposed to deliberately throw curves. My refusal does not always change the situation.
I have only had a couple folks who have thrown one curve after another while I stood in the box waiting for the next one. You've had at least one as well, haven't you? Of course you have.
But here is the great thing...practice helps solve this problem. Don't misunderstand. I don't mean subject yourself to abuse or drama. I mean practice balance everywhere else. Practice good relationships with others. Practice quietness of your soul and spirit.
I have found that diligent practice of these positive vibes give me the ability to see the curve coming and HIT IT! And when you hit it often, one of two things happens: the pitcher doesn't throw the curve anymore, or the pitcher is removed from the game.
Kerrin has a great curve that will one day land her in a Division I pitching circle. I am cheering mightily for that!
But none of us needs deliberately thrown curveballs.
Life is hard enough. How about we support each other in getting rid of the nasty pitchers...Whattaya say?
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