This will surely result in a mere draft today. My mind is swimming today with conflicting thoughts and it will be difficult to sort them out and make sense out of them for myself, let alone for others.
I have been considering the idea that what we think and believe affects what we say and do, and further, what we say and do affects what others think and believe and eventually what they say and do.
An even more challenging idea that has been nagging me is that what we say and do affects what we think and believe, just as much as the other way around.
More concretely, if I say that I am a good mother and do kind things for my children, I will think in my mind and believe in my heart that I am indeed a good and kind mother. As I continue to say and do what is kind and good, I convince myself further and believe more deeply that, without a doubt, I am a good and kind mother.
Then comes the question as to whether my actions as a mother will be the cause of what others think and believe as they observe me. If they believe that what they have seen is good and they think that it merits emulation, will their actions then reflect their mind change? Will my original thoughts and beliefs ultimately lead to other mothers becoming kind and good?
Saturday, September 8, 2012
Wednesday, September 5, 2012
Bill Clinton the Schmoozer at the Democratic National Convention
Listening to Bill Clinton's smooth words on stage at the DNC tonight, I had to remind myself not to be charmed by this schmoozer.
I remembered something important as I watched this talented speaker lean forward across the podium and point his fingers at the expectant crowd. I remembered that they were the same fingers he pointed while adamantly denying having had sexual relations with his young White House intern.
I remembered that this former President who receives hundreds of thousands of dollars each time he speaks publicly at a college or university has friends in high places and the charisma to win many more. I also remembered that this Bill Clinton is the U.S. president who favored the first law to allow abortion on demand through the ninth month and the sickening horror of "partial birth abortion."
I remembered also that during his first campaign for the Presidency, Bill Clinton asserted that he was indeed a "born again" Christian. I also remembered that he lied to his wife Hillary and his daughter Chelsea for years on end while he continued to be an adulterer and use our tax dollars to pay for the secret service and others who covered for him. And then he lied to all of us. Our President.
This charmer might as well be a snake charmer. He appears to be an angel of light but like the lying serpent on the tree, he is full of untruth and his name might as well be Lucifer. He has been a known liar and has furthered the cause of evil in our nation. I will not abide by his words. I will not vote for Obama.
I remembered something important as I watched this talented speaker lean forward across the podium and point his fingers at the expectant crowd. I remembered that they were the same fingers he pointed while adamantly denying having had sexual relations with his young White House intern.
I remembered that this former President who receives hundreds of thousands of dollars each time he speaks publicly at a college or university has friends in high places and the charisma to win many more. I also remembered that this Bill Clinton is the U.S. president who favored the first law to allow abortion on demand through the ninth month and the sickening horror of "partial birth abortion."
I remembered also that during his first campaign for the Presidency, Bill Clinton asserted that he was indeed a "born again" Christian. I also remembered that he lied to his wife Hillary and his daughter Chelsea for years on end while he continued to be an adulterer and use our tax dollars to pay for the secret service and others who covered for him. And then he lied to all of us. Our President.
This charmer might as well be a snake charmer. He appears to be an angel of light but like the lying serpent on the tree, he is full of untruth and his name might as well be Lucifer. He has been a known liar and has furthered the cause of evil in our nation. I will not abide by his words. I will not vote for Obama.
Sunday, August 26, 2012
Taking out the Trash
Every time I turn around I have to toss something. Maybe it's an envelope, a receipt from the grocery store, or the empty Starbucks cup. Or it might be a relatively large thing that takes some ingenuity to dispose of, like a defunct vacuum cleaner or the water fountain that toppled over and crashed on the patio. At other times, there are the things that only I seem to notice, like dust on the piano, dog hair on the bedspread, and crumbs under the toaster.
Of course, most of us regularly put out our trash each week to be picked up and hauled away, and there is usually a recycling day when we place a different bin at the curb. And while there seems no end in sight to the things we are getting rid of, our consumer habits guarantee we will still have plenty of junk.
As I've become more aware of the dwindling number of years ahead of me, this trash problem is a nagging one. My new home is much smaller and before I moved here, I donated carloads and truckloads of furniture and clothes, books and "treasures." Yet I'm still longing to further reduce my possessions. I find that it isn't simple to simplify your life. Poring through boxes and folders is no mean endeavor. It wearies me. Having to read slips of paper to make sure I don't throw something important away makes my brain hurt. This is not the way I want to spend one minute of the precious days I have.
Growing up in the 1950s in rural Pennsylvania, we had no "waste disposal services." It seems we didn't have much trash at all. I walked out to the edge of a field and tossed potato peels and melon rinds. A few times each year I would walk into the middle of a wood where there was a crater full of things disposed of over the years. It was our own landfill.
I think we didn't have much trash because in the 1950s, we hardly ever bought new things. We had Shoenberger's General Store which carried whatever anyone needed in its modest building. I remember dungarees and overalls, boots and shoes, and socks and underwear. Mr. Shoenberger also sold basic grocery items and the Sunday paper. Even the New York Times!
No malls to blight the rolling hills in those days. Can you even imagine life without the shopping mall and the terrible waste of time so many of us have spent there? No huge warehouses like Costco and no superstores like Target and Walmart. We see all this stuff wherever we go. When our eyes see it, our brains think, "Oh, I need that," or "Oh, I always wanted one of those."
The last weeks of summer before school started, Mom began the task of lowering the hems of skirts and dresses I had worn the previous year and restitching them. If I had grown outward as well as upward, we visited a dressmaker in the neighboring town of Brodheadsville. A few days before school began, there would be a drive to see Norma who had a beauty salon in her home and who gave me a new haircut. Then came the long-awaited trip to Stroudsburg to purchase school supplies and to try on dresses and skirts, jumpers and blouses, in a shop where I would parade around in front of Mom and the shop lady. (Note: A jumper was a vested sleeveless garment worn with a blouse underneath.) It was a glorious and exciting day, topped off with a "brown cow" at the soda fountain in Wyckoff's Department Store. (A brown cow today is known as a root beer float.)
Over the years our home never changed its basic appearance. For all those years of my childhood, our furniture, wall hangings, and curtains remained the same. Mom made each room lovely in every season with arrangements of seasonal fruit and flowers and leaves. In late winter she brought in branches from a forsythia bush and placed them in a bucket of water for a few days, and then in a sunny deep-silled window. Soon the hard buds would turn green, then yellow. Soon the delicate blossoms broke forth in magnificence. It was such a thing of beauty that to this day I can still remember gazing at it in awe.
Note: If you live where there is forsythia, read this link for a tip on what my mom used to do.
http://grandpacliff.com/Plants/Forsythia-Indoors.htm
When we were experiencing the deepest, coldest winters, everyone started thinking about the gardens they would plant in springtime. So everyone bought packets of seeds or ordered them from seed catalogs. As a matter of fact, we students would sell seeds to raise money for the school. It was inevitable, too, that my mother would give seeds from plants that had done well in her garden to neighbors, and of course her friends would give her seeds from their successes, as well.
We shared a lot back then. And if anything broke, someone would always fix it. In those days, ordinary people knew how to fix everything. That meant we didn't have so much trash.
We did not live in a consumer nation then as we do now. We were family, friends, and neighbors. We treasured each other. Material things mattered only in so far as making our home lives more meaningful and our neighbors' lives better for the long run. We didn't think of our possessions in a transitory way. What we purchased would last, be around for a long time, not only for us to enjoy at the moment, but also in the future, perhaps for someone who would come after us.
* * *
Of course, most of us regularly put out our trash each week to be picked up and hauled away, and there is usually a recycling day when we place a different bin at the curb. And while there seems no end in sight to the things we are getting rid of, our consumer habits guarantee we will still have plenty of junk.
As I've become more aware of the dwindling number of years ahead of me, this trash problem is a nagging one. My new home is much smaller and before I moved here, I donated carloads and truckloads of furniture and clothes, books and "treasures." Yet I'm still longing to further reduce my possessions. I find that it isn't simple to simplify your life. Poring through boxes and folders is no mean endeavor. It wearies me. Having to read slips of paper to make sure I don't throw something important away makes my brain hurt. This is not the way I want to spend one minute of the precious days I have.
Growing up in the 1950s in rural Pennsylvania, we had no "waste disposal services." It seems we didn't have much trash at all. I walked out to the edge of a field and tossed potato peels and melon rinds. A few times each year I would walk into the middle of a wood where there was a crater full of things disposed of over the years. It was our own landfill.
I think we didn't have much trash because in the 1950s, we hardly ever bought new things. We had Shoenberger's General Store which carried whatever anyone needed in its modest building. I remember dungarees and overalls, boots and shoes, and socks and underwear. Mr. Shoenberger also sold basic grocery items and the Sunday paper. Even the New York Times!
No malls to blight the rolling hills in those days. Can you even imagine life without the shopping mall and the terrible waste of time so many of us have spent there? No huge warehouses like Costco and no superstores like Target and Walmart. We see all this stuff wherever we go. When our eyes see it, our brains think, "Oh, I need that," or "Oh, I always wanted one of those."
The last weeks of summer before school started, Mom began the task of lowering the hems of skirts and dresses I had worn the previous year and restitching them. If I had grown outward as well as upward, we visited a dressmaker in the neighboring town of Brodheadsville. A few days before school began, there would be a drive to see Norma who had a beauty salon in her home and who gave me a new haircut. Then came the long-awaited trip to Stroudsburg to purchase school supplies and to try on dresses and skirts, jumpers and blouses, in a shop where I would parade around in front of Mom and the shop lady. (Note: A jumper was a vested sleeveless garment worn with a blouse underneath.) It was a glorious and exciting day, topped off with a "brown cow" at the soda fountain in Wyckoff's Department Store. (A brown cow today is known as a root beer float.)
Over the years our home never changed its basic appearance. For all those years of my childhood, our furniture, wall hangings, and curtains remained the same. Mom made each room lovely in every season with arrangements of seasonal fruit and flowers and leaves. In late winter she brought in branches from a forsythia bush and placed them in a bucket of water for a few days, and then in a sunny deep-silled window. Soon the hard buds would turn green, then yellow. Soon the delicate blossoms broke forth in magnificence. It was such a thing of beauty that to this day I can still remember gazing at it in awe.
Note: If you live where there is forsythia, read this link for a tip on what my mom used to do.
http://grandpacliff.com/Plants/Forsythia-Indoors.htm
When we were experiencing the deepest, coldest winters, everyone started thinking about the gardens they would plant in springtime. So everyone bought packets of seeds or ordered them from seed catalogs. As a matter of fact, we students would sell seeds to raise money for the school. It was inevitable, too, that my mother would give seeds from plants that had done well in her garden to neighbors, and of course her friends would give her seeds from their successes, as well.
We shared a lot back then. And if anything broke, someone would always fix it. In those days, ordinary people knew how to fix everything. That meant we didn't have so much trash.
We did not live in a consumer nation then as we do now. We were family, friends, and neighbors. We treasured each other. Material things mattered only in so far as making our home lives more meaningful and our neighbors' lives better for the long run. We didn't think of our possessions in a transitory way. What we purchased would last, be around for a long time, not only for us to enjoy at the moment, but also in the future, perhaps for someone who would come after us.
* * *
Friday, August 10, 2012
My New Place
About a year ago, I was sharing with a friend that I needed a major change in my life. Soon after that, the place I had been renting for many years was put up for sale and sold to the first comers. The major change in my life had been decided for me.
I was allowed to live in the rental condo until the end of the lease, but as that date approached, I became frantic that I would not be able to find the right place. I had wanted to move close to family, but my closest daughter was nearly seven hundred miles away, and it was impossible for me to look at places near her within my budget. Locally, all my leads seemed to go nowhere.
One Sunday I was driving with two of my friends when we saw an open house sign near the historic Racquet Club area of Palm Springs. We were in an upbeat mood after our breakfast together, so we followed the signs to the condo. Upon entering, the smell of cigarette smoke was overwhelming and I made a mental note that this was a big no-no.
The vaulted ceiling in the "great room" was impressive as was the modern high-end decor. However, the colors were far from anything I would have chosen. Walls were painted brown throughout. Black and brown and gray furnishings were framed by 84" length vertical black blinds covering large windows on one side and another set covering the sliders to a patio. This room combined living and dining areas. An adjacent ten foot square kitchen displayed dark brown cabinets and modern appliances in black with a backsplash and walls painted brown and a black ceiling. A nice size window above the sink let in morning sun with black blinds pulled to the side. There was only one bedroom, but two full baths and a room adjacent to one of them that was considered a den, but easily could hold a twin bed and a couple of small chests of drawers.
The large bedroom's oversized high-end furniture in white did not diminish the sombre heaviness of the black that spread itself in the wall-to-wall carpet and floor-to-ceiling blinds. Black ceramic tile floors and a 60" long vanity with a black granite top and sink accented the bathroom, with impressive mirror and lighting features. The same black carpeted the den and covered the floor of the laundry/utility room that housed dual AC furnace units and a stackable washer and dryer unit as well as a gas water heater.
I'm going to skip the FHA financing and all the trouble of loan company and escrow tribulation, but in short time, I actually bought this most unlikely place. I could not sleep for weeks before I moved or after I moved. I stayed awake every night thinking about the many facets of this condo I would change if I could.
Three months later, my main focus and torment remains getting rid of the cigarette smell. What I have completed are expensive ozone treatments, dual AC duct cleaning, tile floor cleaning and resealing in great room, and bedroom walls and ceilings washed down and primed and painted twice, new carpeting installed in bedroom and den. Yet the cigarette smell persists. Other spaces also need to be painted, I realize, but I have run out of money. When cooler weather comes in October, I can leave the sliders and windows open and air out the house completely.
The color of mud has disappeared from the walls of the great room and the bedroom. Lightening up the walls to a light green in the great room and a creamy ivory in the bedroom made a huge difference in my appreciation of this new home. My cottage style furniture also gives the place a light and airy feel. The piano seems to sound better in the great room, and I'm playing and enjoying it more, too.
My brother Brendon and my friend Ida in Ireland each sent me a gift of $100 in recent weeks as gifts for my new home. I have decided that the slider doors in the great room will get a new window treatment, and that will be Ida's Window! The other large vertical windows (also with black blinds) will be Brendon's Window.
The time involved in this project concerns me. I wanted this change in my life to simplify the time I have.
Playing the piano really does help when I'm overwhelmed. The other day I came across a worship song I had not heard in thirty years. It was in a hymnal from the Presbyterian church, and I played it with tears rolling down my cheeks and singing, just barely, as I could manage.
I was allowed to live in the rental condo until the end of the lease, but as that date approached, I became frantic that I would not be able to find the right place. I had wanted to move close to family, but my closest daughter was nearly seven hundred miles away, and it was impossible for me to look at places near her within my budget. Locally, all my leads seemed to go nowhere.
One Sunday I was driving with two of my friends when we saw an open house sign near the historic Racquet Club area of Palm Springs. We were in an upbeat mood after our breakfast together, so we followed the signs to the condo. Upon entering, the smell of cigarette smoke was overwhelming and I made a mental note that this was a big no-no.
The vaulted ceiling in the "great room" was impressive as was the modern high-end decor. However, the colors were far from anything I would have chosen. Walls were painted brown throughout. Black and brown and gray furnishings were framed by 84" length vertical black blinds covering large windows on one side and another set covering the sliders to a patio. This room combined living and dining areas. An adjacent ten foot square kitchen displayed dark brown cabinets and modern appliances in black with a backsplash and walls painted brown and a black ceiling. A nice size window above the sink let in morning sun with black blinds pulled to the side. There was only one bedroom, but two full baths and a room adjacent to one of them that was considered a den, but easily could hold a twin bed and a couple of small chests of drawers.
The large bedroom's oversized high-end furniture in white did not diminish the sombre heaviness of the black that spread itself in the wall-to-wall carpet and floor-to-ceiling blinds. Black ceramic tile floors and a 60" long vanity with a black granite top and sink accented the bathroom, with impressive mirror and lighting features. The same black carpeted the den and covered the floor of the laundry/utility room that housed dual AC furnace units and a stackable washer and dryer unit as well as a gas water heater.
I'm going to skip the FHA financing and all the trouble of loan company and escrow tribulation, but in short time, I actually bought this most unlikely place. I could not sleep for weeks before I moved or after I moved. I stayed awake every night thinking about the many facets of this condo I would change if I could.
Three months later, my main focus and torment remains getting rid of the cigarette smell. What I have completed are expensive ozone treatments, dual AC duct cleaning, tile floor cleaning and resealing in great room, and bedroom walls and ceilings washed down and primed and painted twice, new carpeting installed in bedroom and den. Yet the cigarette smell persists. Other spaces also need to be painted, I realize, but I have run out of money. When cooler weather comes in October, I can leave the sliders and windows open and air out the house completely.
The color of mud has disappeared from the walls of the great room and the bedroom. Lightening up the walls to a light green in the great room and a creamy ivory in the bedroom made a huge difference in my appreciation of this new home. My cottage style furniture also gives the place a light and airy feel. The piano seems to sound better in the great room, and I'm playing and enjoying it more, too.
My brother Brendon and my friend Ida in Ireland each sent me a gift of $100 in recent weeks as gifts for my new home. I have decided that the slider doors in the great room will get a new window treatment, and that will be Ida's Window! The other large vertical windows (also with black blinds) will be Brendon's Window.
The time involved in this project concerns me. I wanted this change in my life to simplify the time I have.
Playing the piano really does help when I'm overwhelmed. The other day I came across a worship song I had not heard in thirty years. It was in a hymnal from the Presbyterian church, and I played it with tears rolling down my cheeks and singing, just barely, as I could manage.
Sometimes alleluia,
Sometimes praise the Lord,
Sometimes softly singing,
Our hearts in one accord.
* * *
Wednesday, August 1, 2012
Raising children in an unkind world
Raising your children in a world full of violence is more challenging than ever before. TV shows in the mainstream have become increasingly graphic and violent and laden with sexual messages that affect all of us negatively, but especially our children. Video games, the Internet, animated films, and even some popular music bombard kids with disturbing and relentless images that insult their vulnerable hearts and minds.
Yet some parents have virtually eliminated exposure to these influences in their own home. They have consciously and unselfishly made a decision to shape the experience of their children in a positive way. They have had to give up their own exposure to TV and the Internet and become available to their children for family time activities.
The most success has come from activities that are fun and an important and regular part of family life. Learning activities that involve music, dance, table games, sports, and exercise benefit everyone.
Even with curbing such exposure, there is so much more parents can do to raise children to become caring and responsible adults.
Smiles and encouragement go a long way in family life. Take time to listen to your children and show respect for their ideas and thoughts.
Choose worthwhile books for your children. Remember that even high school students enjoy being read to by one or both parents. It is worth your time and effort. What you teach your children now will carry through to the next generation--your grandchildren!
Try the best way to teach kindness -- by example. When you are speaking of those who are not present in the room, speak well of them. The words you speak, the voice you use, your facial expressions -- all of these matter.
Although children are not born knowing how to get along with others, studies show that infants have a natural sense of empathy for others. That empathy will grow and be reinforced by the loving people who surround them. The experience of growing up in a loving home is paramount in a child's development.
Children can learn to disagree without being disagreeable. Help them express their ideas without being hostile. Provide examples of the right words to use when they feel slighted by others.
It is a beautiful thing to see a child who consciously makes an effort to get along with others. Ask any elementary teacher, and he will tell you that happy, amiable children tend to come from parents who have a gentle manner and peaceful demeanor.
Discipline without violence. If you indeed use violence, you are showing that you yourself are undisciplined. Everyone has a weak moment, but that's when self-control is in order. Whisper a prayer when you're upset and respond to a situation in the way you hope your children will respond. Children really do learn what they live.
Embrace your role as a parent with joy and wonder. Keep a smile on your face. Not everyone has the privilege of such a high calling. You are the best parent for your child.
Live your life as if someone is watching -- which is the absolute truth. Your precious child is watching you every step of the way.
Yet some parents have virtually eliminated exposure to these influences in their own home. They have consciously and unselfishly made a decision to shape the experience of their children in a positive way. They have had to give up their own exposure to TV and the Internet and become available to their children for family time activities.
The most success has come from activities that are fun and an important and regular part of family life. Learning activities that involve music, dance, table games, sports, and exercise benefit everyone.
Even with curbing such exposure, there is so much more parents can do to raise children to become caring and responsible adults.
Smiles and encouragement go a long way in family life. Take time to listen to your children and show respect for their ideas and thoughts.
Choose worthwhile books for your children. Remember that even high school students enjoy being read to by one or both parents. It is worth your time and effort. What you teach your children now will carry through to the next generation--your grandchildren!
Try the best way to teach kindness -- by example. When you are speaking of those who are not present in the room, speak well of them. The words you speak, the voice you use, your facial expressions -- all of these matter.
Although children are not born knowing how to get along with others, studies show that infants have a natural sense of empathy for others. That empathy will grow and be reinforced by the loving people who surround them. The experience of growing up in a loving home is paramount in a child's development.
Children can learn to disagree without being disagreeable. Help them express their ideas without being hostile. Provide examples of the right words to use when they feel slighted by others.
It is a beautiful thing to see a child who consciously makes an effort to get along with others. Ask any elementary teacher, and he will tell you that happy, amiable children tend to come from parents who have a gentle manner and peaceful demeanor.
Siblings can learn to treat each other with respect. Calling someone "stupid" or telling someone to "shut up" are hurtful ways of communicating. Our home needs to be a shelter from the incivility of the world.
Discipline without violence. If you indeed use violence, you are showing that you yourself are undisciplined. Everyone has a weak moment, but that's when self-control is in order. Whisper a prayer when you're upset and respond to a situation in the way you hope your children will respond. Children really do learn what they live.
Embrace your role as a parent with joy and wonder. Keep a smile on your face. Not everyone has the privilege of such a high calling. You are the best parent for your child.
Live your life as if someone is watching -- which is the absolute truth. Your precious child is watching you every step of the way.
* * *
Tuesday, January 31, 2012
The Gift of Time
I think everyone has had a moment of truth in which he realizes how life is passing by quickly. There is work to be done, work we are called to do, and countless diversions to keep us from that work.
I'm not just speaking of the work where we earn a wage to support our families and ourselves. I'm thinking of the work we were born to do--the work that will have made the world a better place when we leave it. Perhaps some of that work might be an intrinsic part of the wage-earning work we do, and that is ideal. I certainly felt moments like that when I was teaching children.
But just as a thief can invade our home and rob us of valued possessions, there are thieves that rob us of the blessing of doing our life's work. There is this demanding physical world in which we live, and in an effort to make sense out of it, we engage in tasks that have only temporary value. But the larger, eternal world is a spiritual one, and when we are robbed of touching that world, even for one day of our lives, it is truly a tragedy.
God is always at work in our lives, but we often are too busy to see what gifts He is trying to share with us. Today, I whispered prayers as I awoke and stumbled out of bed, another few whispers to the Lord during my walk with Coco, and another few prayers in the car. Still, they weren't fervent; they were just passing words, like a neighbor might offer us a smile and wave of "good morning."
This day was a gift from God and where did it go?
In the first hour of the day, I showered and did my hair and makeup, made my bed, opened all the sliders, had some juice, let the dog and cat on the patio. Then I checked my two email accounts, answered phone calls and returned others. I sorted through laundry, brought in the trash bin, fed and groomed Coco and Raindrop, and took Coco on a half hour walk in the park.
After driving three towns away to pick up my new "lens wear" this morning, I spent several hours shopping at the mall for a new outfit because I had never made it to church on Sunday since I could find nothing at all suitable to wear.
Late afternoon, I did some research on the computer regarding a future move I have to make. I spent at least an hour playing Words with Friends, Eight Letters in Search of a Word, and Drop Poker. A "Little House on the Prairie" episode and an old Western stole another couple of hours from me.
This day was not as I had planned or hoped. Last night my friend Peggy and I had agreed to meet on the way to pick up my new eyeglasses. She had to take her Toyota for a recall repair which was expected to take several hours, and while they did the repair, she thought she could ride with me to my eyeglass place, and then we could browse in a charity thrift store or have a bite to eat together. It was a plan full of hope and cheer.
Somehow we never were able to meet. Her repair was completed earlier than she expected, and she headed home. I got out the door later than I intended, and neither of us was able to connect with the other. Peggy doesn't have a cell phone!
In the interest of friendship, that one meeting would have been something very worthwhile and uplifting for both of us. Friendship matters! It would have been part of the life work that makes the world a better place. We would have spoken of family and friends and offered insights and reflections on what it means to be a mother and a grandmother. Our shared words of wisdom would have inspired us with hope and brought healing of memories. Our conversation would then have become part of the greater picture of our lives, our extended families, friends, and our neighbors in the world.
"Heavenly Father, thank you for your loving kindness toward me. Thank you for each day you have given me, each full of countless blessings. Forgive me, Lord, for not doing your will more completely today. Forgive me for allowing precious time to evaporate in useless activities and inane diversions. Help me to choose wisely and to remain centered in you. I don't want to do anything without your presence and grace. Please direct my path and put your love in my heart so that even the smallest act of my daily life will be touched by you. In Jesus name, I ask this. Amen."
Friday, January 27, 2012
The Winds of Change
I can't believe it's January 27th, 2012! Where has the time gone?
I agree with Gretchin Rubin's statement, "The days are long, but the years are short."
It becomes truer as the years go by.
This year will mean significant change for me.
Last summer I was on a phone call with a former classmate in Pennsylvania. I was telling her that I felt I needed to change things in my life, maybe beginning with a really big change, like a move to another place.
I was content to continue living here in this comfortable condo in Palm Springs, happy with my neighbors and friends that live closeby. It's wonderful to have sunshine nearly every day and maybe an occasional rainstorm or windstorm that brings refreshment or excitement. I can swim every day of the year to keep physically active, even on the days of our winter where the temperature might drop to the sixties, we have a heated salt-water pool.
But my life has become boring and routine. Truth is, I'm not old enough to be finished with the creative aspect of my life. This resort town somehow has never felt like home.
Retirement can mean becoming very staid in your outlook, manner, and vision. When things are too easy, with no challenges to take up, a person fails to grow inwardly. I thought that if I had to begin anew at age 65 in a different town, it would lead to growth, hopefully positive growth. I would be forced to find my way around in a new place. I would need to discover new places to shop, a new hairdresser, a new car repair place, and also a new church. All these changes might be challenging, even uncomfortable, but they would make it possible to meet and make new friends, maybe even find a job where I can make a contribution.
Thinking about making such a big change is one thing. The action required is another! Actually initiating change requires great courage, especially when you're a little older and you're alone and not nearly as healthy as you once were.
Lo and behold, change happens when we least expect it! Not long after speaking with my classmate about my wanting to make a change, I received a phone call from the rental agent who manages the condo where I've been living for seven years. He said the owners of the condo were putting the place up for sale!
I panicked! I wasn't ready to give up my beloved home, and I was shaken. Yet, the first couple who came to see the place made an offer on the spot. Now this place has been sold to them, and they are honoring my rental lease until June 30, 2012! So, you see, I must make a change!
Be careful what you pray for!
I think the Lord knew I wouldn't make the change without a little push. And all the ruminating I had done previously helped prepare my mind for the possibility of change.
Please God, help me to see this change through gracefully, knowing that you will be with me every step of the way. Direct me, through your Holy Spirit, to follow your prodding and not to falter. Give me your perfect peace that passes understanding. Amen.
I agree with Gretchin Rubin's statement, "The days are long, but the years are short."
It becomes truer as the years go by.
This year will mean significant change for me.
Last summer I was on a phone call with a former classmate in Pennsylvania. I was telling her that I felt I needed to change things in my life, maybe beginning with a really big change, like a move to another place.
I was content to continue living here in this comfortable condo in Palm Springs, happy with my neighbors and friends that live closeby. It's wonderful to have sunshine nearly every day and maybe an occasional rainstorm or windstorm that brings refreshment or excitement. I can swim every day of the year to keep physically active, even on the days of our winter where the temperature might drop to the sixties, we have a heated salt-water pool.
But my life has become boring and routine. Truth is, I'm not old enough to be finished with the creative aspect of my life. This resort town somehow has never felt like home.
Retirement can mean becoming very staid in your outlook, manner, and vision. When things are too easy, with no challenges to take up, a person fails to grow inwardly. I thought that if I had to begin anew at age 65 in a different town, it would lead to growth, hopefully positive growth. I would be forced to find my way around in a new place. I would need to discover new places to shop, a new hairdresser, a new car repair place, and also a new church. All these changes might be challenging, even uncomfortable, but they would make it possible to meet and make new friends, maybe even find a job where I can make a contribution.
Thinking about making such a big change is one thing. The action required is another! Actually initiating change requires great courage, especially when you're a little older and you're alone and not nearly as healthy as you once were.
Lo and behold, change happens when we least expect it! Not long after speaking with my classmate about my wanting to make a change, I received a phone call from the rental agent who manages the condo where I've been living for seven years. He said the owners of the condo were putting the place up for sale!
I panicked! I wasn't ready to give up my beloved home, and I was shaken. Yet, the first couple who came to see the place made an offer on the spot. Now this place has been sold to them, and they are honoring my rental lease until June 30, 2012! So, you see, I must make a change!
Be careful what you pray for!
I think the Lord knew I wouldn't make the change without a little push. And all the ruminating I had done previously helped prepare my mind for the possibility of change.
Please God, help me to see this change through gracefully, knowing that you will be with me every step of the way. Direct me, through your Holy Spirit, to follow your prodding and not to falter. Give me your perfect peace that passes understanding. Amen.
Thursday, January 5, 2012
It's January 5th, so where's my fifth post?
All right, I have been procrastinating. There are reasons, maybe excuses, why I haven't written. There have also been some outright obstacles. But, let's face it, the biggest obstacle is I don't always feel like writing.
Seven reasons why I won't write on my blog:
1. Sometimes my eyes hurt, and I don't want to be looking into that bright computer screen.
2. Sometimes I've been taking medicine for arthritis and it makes me sleepy.
3. Sometimes I think it doesn't matter whether or not I write. Who cares anyway?
4. Sometimes I am not at all inspired by any particular topic.
5. Today I just want to read, not write. I want to benefit from the wisdom of others and from the time and effort they sacrificed to write something meaningful.
6. Writing is a lonely job. There you are with an empty page.
7. Do I honestly believe the world will be a better place just because I took the time to write on my blog today?
Procrastination is the way of my avoiding doing a task that I believe I cannot do exceedingly well. It's fear of failure, or maybe fear of mediocrity, that prevents me from putting that first word on the blank page.
But, at least for today, I have written something. I know I have not written exceedingly well. But maybe it's okay not to be perfect today. Maybe it is more of a step toward perfection to have taken the time to write than not to have written anything at all.
Seven reasons why I won't write on my blog:
1. Sometimes my eyes hurt, and I don't want to be looking into that bright computer screen.
2. Sometimes I've been taking medicine for arthritis and it makes me sleepy.
3. Sometimes I think it doesn't matter whether or not I write. Who cares anyway?
4. Sometimes I am not at all inspired by any particular topic.
5. Today I just want to read, not write. I want to benefit from the wisdom of others and from the time and effort they sacrificed to write something meaningful.
6. Writing is a lonely job. There you are with an empty page.
7. Do I honestly believe the world will be a better place just because I took the time to write on my blog today?
Procrastination is the way of my avoiding doing a task that I believe I cannot do exceedingly well. It's fear of failure, or maybe fear of mediocrity, that prevents me from putting that first word on the blank page.
But, at least for today, I have written something. I know I have not written exceedingly well. But maybe it's okay not to be perfect today. Maybe it is more of a step toward perfection to have taken the time to write than not to have written anything at all.
Tuesday, January 3, 2012
TENDERHEARTED . . . (Ephesians 4:32)
I love the word tenderhearted. When I hear the word spoken, I can't help but smile. It calls to mind someone I know -- a gentle person with a quiet demeanor and a welcoming smile, someone I have loved since I was a child.
Years ago I came across the word tenderhearted in the last verse of the 4th chapter of Ephesians. I was learning then what it meant to be a Christian. It was a time when I desired to grow in the Lord with all my heart.
The Book of Ephesians is filled with the apostle Paul's instructions on living as children of light, but the very last verse is the one that endeared me to that calling. Since that first reading, in every situation of my life, these words have come back to me for both encouragement and reproof.
The verse reads:
Throughout the gospels, we find Jesus advising us to remain humble before God and man, to be childlike in our relationship with the Father. Children do not complicate their own lives. Their simplicity allows them to forgive and forget and to move on. Children are trusting. They simply rely on their parents to provide for them and to take care of them and to come to their rescue when needed. We need to be like children in trusting God.
Through the work of the cross, we have been forgiven by God and given the promise of eternal life. Can we risk being unforgiving toward anyone?
God forgave us, not because we deserved it, not because we paid for our salvation with our good works, but because His Son Jesus died for us, redeeming us with His own blood.
I hope I will never forget the supreme kindness of God toward me that while I was yet a sinner, Jesus loved me and gave his life for me.
So, I cannot cease to come back to this verse:
Be ye kind, one to another, tenderhearted, forgiving one another, even as God for Christ's sake has forgiven you. (Ephesians 4:32)
.
Years ago I came across the word tenderhearted in the last verse of the 4th chapter of Ephesians. I was learning then what it meant to be a Christian. It was a time when I desired to grow in the Lord with all my heart.
The Book of Ephesians is filled with the apostle Paul's instructions on living as children of light, but the very last verse is the one that endeared me to that calling. Since that first reading, in every situation of my life, these words have come back to me for both encouragement and reproof.
The verse reads:
And be ye kind one to another, tenderhearted, forgiving one another, even as God for Christ's sake has forgiven you.I find beauty and humility in the word "tenderhearted." It speaks of a certain innocence and childlikeness. It makes me think of a tender shoot delicately rooted, fluttering in the breeze, green and sweet-smelling.
Throughout the gospels, we find Jesus advising us to remain humble before God and man, to be childlike in our relationship with the Father. Children do not complicate their own lives. Their simplicity allows them to forgive and forget and to move on. Children are trusting. They simply rely on their parents to provide for them and to take care of them and to come to their rescue when needed. We need to be like children in trusting God.
Through the work of the cross, we have been forgiven by God and given the promise of eternal life. Can we risk being unforgiving toward anyone?
God forgave us, not because we deserved it, not because we paid for our salvation with our good works, but because His Son Jesus died for us, redeeming us with His own blood.
I hope I will never forget the supreme kindness of God toward me that while I was yet a sinner, Jesus loved me and gave his life for me.
So, I cannot cease to come back to this verse:
Be ye kind, one to another, tenderhearted, forgiving one another, even as God for Christ's sake has forgiven you. (Ephesians 4:32)
.
Monday, January 2, 2012
Is Sleep Something Holy?
I often ask myself the question as to whether or not sleep is holy.
For me, sleep deprivation makes me feel unholy. Any chance I have to resemble a child of God vanishes if I don't get my sleep.
In the wisdom of His creation, God separated light from darkness. He wonderfully ordained separate hours of light and darkness as a gift to ensure his creatures would sleep and be refreshed. Night and day naturally divided work-and-play time from sleep-and-dream time.
"I love my bed." During her high school years, my youngest daughter would say that often as she got under her covers and closed her eyes. She had a pretty comforter and special sheet sets I had bought for her, but they were only a slight part of her enjoyment of her bed.
Every day my daughter arose very early to get ready for her day at school. She chose a tough academic schedule with no breaks for study halls. After the day's classes were over, she threw herself into physically demanding athletics. From there, she went to a job at a cookie bakery, and on some nights, she sold popcorn and candy at the local theater. I wonder now how she managed to complete her studies and maintain good grades. But I do know that once she crawled into bed at night, she luxuriated in being there. We would say good night, and as I walked away, I would hear the blissful sigh and the words, "I love my bed."
Except for those who work at a physically demanding job, we often don't appreciate the true blessing of sleep. The sweet rapture of falling into bed after complete physical exhaustion is a rare delight to most of us. We seldom experience being so physically tired that we crave going to bed. We extend the hours of our day with our TVs and computers, wearing out our eyes, yet still stubbornly refusing to turn off the gadgets.
I battled sleeplessness after my divorce. After enduring the loss of home and husband and the flight of three grown children from the nest, I was devastated. I had to pull myself together to survive. I took a job on an island where there was a teacher shortage. After all the major changes in my life, I realized I had to reinvent myself to some degree. My mind was so restless that sleep would not come.
Often I would get behind the wheel at night and drive from one end of the island to the other. The island was about twelve miles long. Some nights I would add over a hundred miles to the odometer just driving back and forth on the island parkway, then return to my rented apartment and try to sleep. My day still seemed sadly unfinished. I had no one anymore to say good night to.
Now I have a dog and cat who like to sleep on my bed. The sound of their snoring is a healing balm to me, as I hope the sound of my snoring is to them. We are peaceful together, somehow comforting each other by being close.
I do think sleep can be a gift made holy by how we use it. Sleep refreshes our minds and bodies and spirits so that we might live another day to honor our Creator and to live life in the joyful, loving, purposeful way that He intended.
For me, sleep deprivation makes me feel unholy. Any chance I have to resemble a child of God vanishes if I don't get my sleep.
In the wisdom of His creation, God separated light from darkness. He wonderfully ordained separate hours of light and darkness as a gift to ensure his creatures would sleep and be refreshed. Night and day naturally divided work-and-play time from sleep-and-dream time.
"I love my bed." During her high school years, my youngest daughter would say that often as she got under her covers and closed her eyes. She had a pretty comforter and special sheet sets I had bought for her, but they were only a slight part of her enjoyment of her bed.
Every day my daughter arose very early to get ready for her day at school. She chose a tough academic schedule with no breaks for study halls. After the day's classes were over, she threw herself into physically demanding athletics. From there, she went to a job at a cookie bakery, and on some nights, she sold popcorn and candy at the local theater. I wonder now how she managed to complete her studies and maintain good grades. But I do know that once she crawled into bed at night, she luxuriated in being there. We would say good night, and as I walked away, I would hear the blissful sigh and the words, "I love my bed."
Except for those who work at a physically demanding job, we often don't appreciate the true blessing of sleep. The sweet rapture of falling into bed after complete physical exhaustion is a rare delight to most of us. We seldom experience being so physically tired that we crave going to bed. We extend the hours of our day with our TVs and computers, wearing out our eyes, yet still stubbornly refusing to turn off the gadgets.
I battled sleeplessness after my divorce. After enduring the loss of home and husband and the flight of three grown children from the nest, I was devastated. I had to pull myself together to survive. I took a job on an island where there was a teacher shortage. After all the major changes in my life, I realized I had to reinvent myself to some degree. My mind was so restless that sleep would not come.
Often I would get behind the wheel at night and drive from one end of the island to the other. The island was about twelve miles long. Some nights I would add over a hundred miles to the odometer just driving back and forth on the island parkway, then return to my rented apartment and try to sleep. My day still seemed sadly unfinished. I had no one anymore to say good night to.
Now I have a dog and cat who like to sleep on my bed. The sound of their snoring is a healing balm to me, as I hope the sound of my snoring is to them. We are peaceful together, somehow comforting each other by being close.
I do think sleep can be a gift made holy by how we use it. Sleep refreshes our minds and bodies and spirits so that we might live another day to honor our Creator and to live life in the joyful, loving, purposeful way that He intended.
Sunday, January 1, 2012
When you Click on Next Blog--IT'S NOT MY BLOG!
I have found that when I'm on my blog, there is a link at the top that says Next Blog. However, something completely foreign to me, something I've never seen or read, and certainly never written, is what appears there. It's someone else's blog.
I guess this is meant to help blogs to be found by new readers. It's just that I don't want my readers (if there be any) to mistake these sites as being related to me in some way.
It comes back to caring what people think of me, I guess. Will I ever stop? Maybe never, and I suppose it's limiting and controlling and making my life a little busier and more complicated to care what others think.
Caring about what others think makes me shower, fix my hair, brush my teeth, iron my clothes, write thank you notes, brush my dog and cat. I guess I would do those things anyway, but perhaps not quite as thoroughly or as often or as fastidiously.
Certainly I care what I think about myself regardless of what others may think of me.
This year I'm really going to try to care more what God thinks of me. In this regard, I want to keep in mind what truly motivates me to do what appears to be a good deed. If I'm only performing good deeds to the well-heeled, well-educated, and the politically correct, then I need to reconsider my true motives.
The days are long, but the years are short, and I'd like to get a few things right before it's too late.
I guess this is meant to help blogs to be found by new readers. It's just that I don't want my readers (if there be any) to mistake these sites as being related to me in some way.
It comes back to caring what people think of me, I guess. Will I ever stop? Maybe never, and I suppose it's limiting and controlling and making my life a little busier and more complicated to care what others think.
Caring about what others think makes me shower, fix my hair, brush my teeth, iron my clothes, write thank you notes, brush my dog and cat. I guess I would do those things anyway, but perhaps not quite as thoroughly or as often or as fastidiously.
Certainly I care what I think about myself regardless of what others may think of me.
This year I'm really going to try to care more what God thinks of me. In this regard, I want to keep in mind what truly motivates me to do what appears to be a good deed. If I'm only performing good deeds to the well-heeled, well-educated, and the politically correct, then I need to reconsider my true motives.
The days are long, but the years are short, and I'd like to get a few things right before it's too late.
Resolve is difficult for me
January first, 2012, and I'm already feeling resentful that I should be making and keeping resolutions.
I'm not sure why it is difficult for me to resolve to do something. I think I'm eager to keep the freedom to do what I want to do, when I want to do it, and not to be answerable to any other power than myself.
That, of course, is a big problem. It is a way to never grow, never change, never become a better person.
Those who accomplish great things in their lives have done so purposefully, working hard at things, developing themselves and the work that is to be done. Of course, we are born helpless and naked into this world, so all we become, all the gifts we have, come from God. Still, He cannot and will not help us if we are not willing in our spirit to give Him an opening.
I'm not sure why it is difficult for me to resolve to do something. I think I'm eager to keep the freedom to do what I want to do, when I want to do it, and not to be answerable to any other power than myself.
That, of course, is a big problem. It is a way to never grow, never change, never become a better person.
Those who accomplish great things in their lives have done so purposefully, working hard at things, developing themselves and the work that is to be done. Of course, we are born helpless and naked into this world, so all we become, all the gifts we have, come from God. Still, He cannot and will not help us if we are not willing in our spirit to give Him an opening.
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