Shelter in the Lamp

My eyes followed a tall white wooden post to the top, where a lamp shines out against the dark. Inside, tucked between the glass panes and the light bulb sits a tiny bird. It has found this tucking away place in the midst of winter’s wet cold, a source of shelter and warmth. Every time I see movement of the little bird inside the lamp, I smile and think of how we also receive needed shelter in the midst of cold storms. We all need places sometimes to gather into when a new wave of snow and ice is lashing at the door.  

“You are my hiding place;
You shall preserve me from trouble;
You shall surround me with songs of deliverance. “

Psalm 32:7

There is a sight I pass on my way to work most mornings of a mother putting her child on the school bus. The sight itself is not bothersome, it is as natural and as correct as can be. Where I find the tugging on my heart is that instead of being outside a house or apartment, these two are bundled against the weather outside of a local shelter. As I pass, I pray for this family. For stability and economic success, but more importantly that in this time of difficulty, they will also be tucked into the sheltering warmth of God’s love.

We all need a spot to be hidden from the world as it can be a vast place and quite messy with the needs and perceptions of people. How I rejoice that in the midst of trouble, we are surrounded with songs of deliverance. Go, seek out encouragement – it is right there on the light post.

Looking at Pumpkins

Pumpkins come in all of these really fun varieties.  They are white, green, orange, striped, mottled, big, small, oblong, perfectly round, squat, skinny, fat, bumpy and smooth.  They can have stems that are large, small, short and long. In all of these shapes, you can see in pumpkins how creation has this wonderful echo throughout, design elements are used in clever ways over and over.    

A pumpkin sitting on the bale of straw in the front of the house caught my eye. I noticed that it wasn’t truly just orange.  It was like a faux finish of orange, on top of a cheery yellow.  It looked rather sunny.  In face it looked rather like photos of the sun.  Seemingly random bits of orange in thicker and thinner patterns cover the surface, like it could have a pumpkin flavored solar flare from any moment. 

I have met people that are like this.  They just seem to burst with life and joy.  They are encouraging, vivacious, and warming – just like the sun.  I have also noticed that these tend to be multi-faceted individuals who have experienced flares in life and learned from them; using them later to bring warmth, comfort and courage to others. These are people I, and others, want to be around as they are drawn to the genuine caring.

This is a wonderfully green and orange pumpkin with deep grooves that lead to a valley where the stem is.  That stem, with a round of green at its base rises up like a mountain out of a plain.  Variances of color and a twist of the stem leave the tip of the stem uneven; undoubtedly a peak weathered with many mountainous weather fronts.

There are a few women who I have met that are many years young, and in years of age rather elderly.  And they have done that gracefully. They are like these mountains rising out of the plains, standing as beautiful monuments. Wrinkles, lines and scars indicate the weathering they have witnessed. But they still stand, and gather life in beautiful ecosystems around them. Water flows from snow capped peaks to nourish the cycle of life. They share their wisdom, gracefully and lovingly; they relinquish controls that I think would be very difficult to relinquish. Not placing their value in the ability to do, but in being. 

Is it a pumpkin, or is it art in pottery?  Something in a light tree trunk brown with a crackled white glaze.  The small lines of tannin peek through the white and remind me of the shape of waves moving through the ocean.  Lines indicate movement, just as those cresting waves show the movements of the wind and water. 

The artists, entrepreneurs, movers of large and small movements; those who see an idea in their mind and heart and then go about trying it – these are people who enrich the world around them. Encouraging by example to do, experiment, hypothesize, research – to try; these are the people who I think teach me bravery to move.  To move with the wind and the water, and know that perhaps I will find myself on new shores.

I’m going to keep looking, who knows what other worlds will be seen; microcosm within a macrocosm.

Strings

The last few days have been a roller coaster of sadness and joy, good-bye and hello, as our family has celebrated the life and started mourning the death of a wonderful man. My great uncle moved to his heavenly home and many people had come to support his family during the visitation and funeral. This led to a conversation on how we are all tied together, with threads and strings that are woven into complex patterns throughout our lives.

I started pondering that thought on the drive back home. What would this web of connectivity look like if I could sense it in a tangible way? Yarns that are thick and worn to soft fuzzy textures held next to fine threads, rope-like strands in line with flossy embroidery thread; family, friends, acquaintances, co-workers, peers and neighbors are all linked together in these many cords. Stretched over miles of distance and through years of life, the strings are wrapped through my fingers and looped into other peoples’ hands.

Strings may have grown dusty since we have moved them last, but the connection can still be there.  Shake off the business of the moment and refresh the bond. We can stretch strings to the breaking point, leaving them thin and worn, and yet with careful interlacing bonds can be rebuilt. Woven into colorful patterns, these plait the threads together to make relational tapestries that spread out and connect one person with another. New fibers are added throughout life, the cashier at the grocery store that always checks me out in the mornings I go to get bananas and kiwis, or the new people I meet at Bible study.  Adding new connections only increases the depth and complexity of threads. 

Seeing these strings merged into a far-reaching weaving at the death of a loved one was a beautiful reminder of the support and connection we share and yet often forget to communicate or, at times, even notice. I want to encourage you, as I was encouraged, to enjoy and build the strings in your life.  Seek out these connections and nurture them.  It takes time, energy, strength. It is intentional and can certainly lead to tangles. Tie a thread around your connectivity as a reminder that the benefits of our strings are beautifully immeasurable.

Sisters of Chalk and Grade Books

We worked together for a few years, forging a sweet friendship in a short time.  The five of us are all so different and yet complimentary in ways only the Master Planner could have put together.  It’s been several years now since we worked together, years when each of us drifted our own ways and on our own paths.  A recent evening reunion left me once again thinking through the memories of these wonderful women and what a gift they were and are in my life.  We walked through lesson plans, prayed over and dreamed dreams for our students, spent moments comforting each other in the times of frustrations, and had more times of laughter than I can count.  I think about these special women and how important and different each is….

A sweet southern spirit of hospitality, she loves her children with a fierceness that is belied by a graceful charm.  This woman has found she is much more capable than she might of thought years ago and has a new confidence to match.  It sits well on her, as this is strength of faith and not one made by a person that becomes haughty.  She still has moments where I believe she doubts herself.  I wish she knew her smile conveys not only the temporary sadness and anger at the hardness life presents at times, but also the long lasting joys of motherhood and friendship.  An encourager and a lover of hope, you are a dear friend.

A firecracker, she sparkles with bright colors and vivacious laughter.  With the heart of a soaring bird and the spirited energy of a beach girl, a technical scientific mind is thrown into the mix to create a whirligig of potential and laughter and survivor’s strength.  I love her curiosity about all things scientific, with a constant prodding to investigate and understand why God has made the way the way the world is.  With a whole world of things to learn, the possibilities are open wide and boundless before her; and I can just see her running through the scientific field gathering as many proverbial flowers of knowledge as her arms can carry.  A momma, a wife, a grandma; you inspire me to learn and laugh and seek God’s heart, you are a dear friend.

A rock for so many, I’m not sure she knows how many depend on her as a source of strength.  And yet, her strength is real because it is from a depth of faith, and not brittle from being solely person dependent.  With a work ethic that amazes me, she keeps working to provide for her family and provide a better life for those she works with.  Such a heart, big as the ocean and yet can view the world with a realists eye.  A mom and a daughter, you seek to and encourage me to make the world a better place, you are a dear friend.

A sunbeam embodied, she lights up people by seeking to show them God’s Holy Spirit by her words and actions.  Joy bubbles up in her, as well as a fierce fighting passion for those she loves.  She’s a momma with a passion for growing those around her, both her children and those children that are part of her brood of youth brought into her life by God’s path.  The faith of a child with a warrior prayer life, and the shine of God’s love, you are a warming and refreshing influence and are a dear friend. 

A friendship forged in the classroom, over 10 minute lunches and hours of classroom preparation, chalk dust and report cards, term papers and curriculum; each of them are so special to me.  I’m so glad that they are part of my life.  

Edify

   It shouldn’t be so hard, but it is. It shouldn’t be such a struggle, but it is. With one quick flick of fingers over a keyboard of a computer or phone, with a phone call or ill conceived word, we can be so cutting. Our words can turn each other into a mass of cuts before our eyes, and we walk away as if nothing ever happened.

   “Therefore encourage one another and build each other up, just as in fact you are doing.” 1 Thessalonians 5:11
   The Superbowl came and went, championship come and go, celebrity awards – they come and go with a moment in our lives. But, how do we respond to those who did not receive the spoils – that lose the game? Losers! Just think of the talk the last few hours of a national song which was sung with great enthusiasm but the words became mixed up, a toss that was missed, or a run that wasn’t quite fast enough. I don’t know about you, but I’m not sure I could nerve up to sing in front of millions and certainly not to run in front of them.
   So, how do we respond? We need to edify them! Because with that, we are telling each other that we all make mistakes. We are human, let’s go on and help each other get better. It’s not ignoring the mistake but not blasting someone for an error either.
   I have a choice to make to edify someone today. I’m going to give it a shot – how about you?

E

   I have never been one gifted with small talk, I prefer to jump into meatier subjects and put away the lighter fare for silliness and games. Sometimes this is a struggle, because small talk can be nice at the occasional function and in elevators. But, in general I find that most people really want a moment when the small talk can go away and instead will be really honest. So, on the trip, I met someone that needed that moment where small talk was passed over for something more understanding.

   It was in a wonderful Mexican restaurant at an open air mall in Florida that our waitress came, and did a beautiful job with the service. I will call her E. E started out just providing service, taking orders and filling refills. But, the lighter fare turned into something more meaningful as we found out that E was a mom who was working on getting her life back after recovering from a drug addiction. A mother of two girls and a mommy to be of a new baby, this woman was searching for something more than a discussion of the freshness of the food or good service. It was a pleasure meeting her, and learning about her determination to regain her girls and her life.
   Maybe you are like E and need someone to talk to. Maybe you are listening to E. Either way, sometimes we need to ditch the small talk and reach for something more important. It may be with the server at the restaurant, a neighbor, co-worker, or friend. Just be open to considering it, listen for the opportunity and when it comes, be ready to take it. You might be the only encouragement of the day.

Football Etiquette

   I attended a local high school football game last week, had a great time. The kids played really hard, working together as a team. However, I found that some of the folks in the stands might benefit from a little football etiquette.

1. When a player is injured, be quiet. Stop and say a prayer for that person, the parents that have just gone  into full blown adrenaline rush, and their friends that have become worried. I applaud the players who took a knee on the field and the woman who shushed someone near her who was continuing to talk. And as far as the referee who called over the people to measure where the ball was while a player was still down – well, really?

2. There is a pseudo adult section and a student section. The adult section is really full of high school students floating in and out, and younger children who are sitting with their families. So, with that in mind, adults let’s leave the playground language at home. Come and be enthusiastic, emphatic, and have fun! Come and cheer, yell, or clap and stomp. But, check the language at the gate. If you don’t want your children to hear it, chances are that someone else will not want their children to hear it as well.


3. When the band is playing, give them some attention and respect. This is not the free for all run around time. These kids have worked hard, spent hours in practice and learning their parts. The comments about “band kids” are not needed (especially from adults).


4. When you have trash, put it in the trash can. Yes, someone else will clean it up, but it won’t hurt you to do your part.


5. Enjoy the game! Cheer the team on! Clap, stomp, yell, encourage. Enjoy the smell, and perhaps the taste of a hot chocolate and a pretzel with cheese or some nachos.

I Didn’t Even Realize

   Around two years ago, I had hit a wall. I knew I needed to address the issues, but I didn’t have a good idea of how. I had never dealt with something like this and when conflict would come – I just froze. So, crunch had come. By crunch time, I mean that my middle was crunched with stress. It hurt running into that metaphorical brick wall, and I went to a class which was a light bulb turning on moment for me. I finally put the pieces into place of how to be assertive, set good boundaries, and yet also wanting to care for someone else.

    The thing about any kind of new habit or new skill is that it takes time to learn. So, I very consciously went about trying to do this. Reading a boundaries book, I took great comfort in knowing that when first learning to set boundaries you often would go overboard and draw them too tightly. I set out to put my new skills to work, and they did work. Every success made me a little more confident. With the failures, I would remember that this was a skill and it took time to develop.
   It’s been somewhere around two years since that awful day of running into brick walls (over and over and over), and then going to that class. It’s been somewhere around two years and I just realized last week that I can do these things. I can be assertive. I can be caring and compassionate and assertive, while being gracious. It’s not a perfect mix and I am still learning. But, I didn’t even realize how much it had become ingrained in me.
   A friend on face book posted, asking if there was something we could change about ourselves, what would it be? The answers were all good. People want patience and caring, forgiveness, kindness, persistence, family, and listening; they are all good answers. Realizing that this skill which seemed beyond my ability when I was learning it has now really started taking hold in me, it made me start thinking about what I want to focus on next.
   Confidence in self, based on my values and not on others? Gracious hospitality that is more of an effortless art and less of an enjoyable effort? Believing in my intelligence capability when it comes to topics which are very difficult for me to grasp, and finding ways to really understand them? A better understanding of God and His perspective? Wisdom to know the difference between someone’s opinion and someone’s good opinion and to be able to let one go and hold the other close. Perhaps it’s just learning how to write a doable to do list! Practice of trust in God, even when I don’t understand and to step out in faith, even when I can’t see the path. I’m not sure – there is so much I want to grow into! All I know is that in a few more years, I want to be able to look back and think, wow – this new character trait has become part of who I am.

To Answer the Question

    Someone asked me a few weeks ago how bloggers came up with blog topics and how they were able to write on a fairly consecutive basis. Well, I cannot answer for any other blogger, especially since I’m having problems still calling myself a blogger. All I can really comment on is my own experience. That consists of little scraps of paper and learning to keep a pen or pencil in my pure. A familiar joke in my house has become, be careful – you may wind up in the blog. And that is so true! A blog for me has been an outlet, a stage for my words that live more than just on my computers screen. I hope they encourage, uplift, teach, make you laugh, and make you think. I give a shout out to Russia, Brazil, India, and other various locations where people have clued in. That is just a really cool thought.

    Blogging started for me as a challenge from a speaker at a Conference not quite a year ago. I enjoy writing and wondered if I could do something like that. I wanted to get back into writing that wasn’t work or school based, and this seemed to be the perfect way. I have found myself with scraps of paper in my pocket ever since. As a topic comes to me, I jot it down and then stick the paper back in my pocket. Then, as I have time, I write. Normally it is in the hour or so before I go to bed. Somehow, pulling out the thoughts over a day is relaxing and I go to bed a bit clearer minded.
   It has been a little more than a month shy of a year of blogging. Thank you for reading – I hope you have enjoyed it as much as I have enjoyed writing down these random thoughts.

Attention Campers

Last week was Character Camp (like a Vacation Bible School) at my church. Regardless of what it is called, there are lots of kids, games, songs, lessons, and a desperate need on the part of the workers for ibuprofen by the last night. I really enjoyed this camp this year, not only due to the campers I had in my group, but largely due to the co-tent leader. She was wonderful. THANK YOU!!!

As a crowd control method in this squirmy, talkative, hyper, smore addicted bunch of kids, our camp leader would start out with bellowing a great big YOOOOO (a.k.a. yo). The kids and leaders responded in kind with YOOOOOOOOOOO. Some of the kids carried out a bit long at times. Then we received our instructions.
So, YOOOOO - attention campers, here are some camp lessons that I thought I would share.
- Smores are really good, but they taste better if worn on the face. For the very extraverted smore eater, try wearing it as a goatee.  - If you have the chance to pick your own camp spot in an Iowa July, head for the deepest bit of shade you can find with a breeze. You will need lots and lots of bug spray, but the break from the heat is worth it.  - When kids pick out meals a day ahead of time, write down their order. Something else sounds good the next day and they have completely forgotten what they ordered.  - Be dramatic and expressive, be dynamic in your volumes, be silly and laugh a lot.  - Encourage other leaders. We all need it.
- Encourage other campers. They may need it too.  - Don’t overreact when you see blood, it frightens everyone and they are already frightened to see blood.  - If there is a water balloon fight, know who has a secret stockpile of ammunition. Either ally yourself with them, or watch out for them. Unless it’s 100 degrees and then maybe you should go run through the sprinkler.  - Laugh a lot, it is a wonderful release in a tense moment and will also help reenergize you.  - Use good manners, practice what you preach, and model what you expect.   - For the lone boy in a tent of girls, he may say that he is miserable because he is vastly outnumbered, but if you give him a little extra responsibility and some extra attention, he will be just fine.  - At the end of a camp day, go home, kick off your shoes, and lay in the floor. It’s cool, it’s not buggy, and it’s a lot better than falling down from the sheer drain of the day.  - Drink lots and lots of water. Actually, the combination I found working was coffee, water, then a V8 Splash about 4, then more water.   - When you watch your teens in the youth group work hard, in the heat, for no pay and little recognition of the adults around them, you are burst your buttons kind of proud. When they get excited because they just made a little kid’s day, you are leap tall building proud. When they want to make an impact on the life of a kid and work harder and dig deeper, just in case they can, you are over the moon proud.  - Thank the kitchen workers and the clean-uppers, and the traffic controllers, and security-watchers, laundry-doers, and all the behind the scene-ers. They do more than you realize and are absolutely vital.  - As a leader, you need to dance around with the music or most of the kids won’t feel free to do so either.   - Praise lots, pray for patience, and love each camper.

Joy in the Morning

I have been having strange dreams lately, which is not all that strange for me. They are rather unsettling and I wake up feel disconcerted. They seem to center around conflict, which I also find unsettling. I have come a long way in learning to deal with conflict, but it still not my favorite thing to deal with. The thing that strikes me each and every time, is that my feelings of being flustered and a bit tense in the stomach from a dream fades in the morning.

I am reminded that the new day is truly new. It is not promised, it is not mine to claim. It is a gift and unique. I am also reminded that though there are effects which carry through from the day before; this is not necessarily a bad thing. There are good things that carry through to the new day. A gift of grace, friendship, life, and possibility all carry into the new day. I am reminded that though the new day is not promised, that that the things which are are rock solid and carry through each moment. There is joy in the morning, even when there are bad dreams in the night.

Southern Silk and Steel

Seven AM on a Saturday morning, nothing is on the television, and I’m not ready to get up. I’m not ready to get up because we had storms last night. My dog doesn’t care for storms and turns into a quivering mess with a heavy rain. She must share the impending storm threat with me, thus cutting back on sleep time. So, with eyes that would close with very little convincing, I found myself up and watching Steel Magnolias. I do like the movie; I just don’t watch it very often because it makes me cry.

Even in the midst of a sleep filled haze, there are some lines in that movie script which cut through and are just too good to pass up. One is by Ouiser, it goes something like “I am a southern woman; I am supposed to wear big hats, ugly clothes and grow tomatoes. I don’t make the rules.” I love that! I want a big hat and to grow tomatoes (though I don’t care to eat them). But, for some reason summer means to grow tomatoes and wear hats. I suppose that that rule is one I recognize as well.
Another is when the women are interacting at the funeral. It’s one of those laugh and cry moments. First is the mother, she is trying to put on a good face for those around her. We do that don’t we? I can relate. I put on a good face sometimes too. “How are you?” “Fine…” If they don’t push further, I don’t provide more – why would I, they are not really looking for an answer beyond that at the surface level. But, amongst friends (and guys I’m sorry to leave you out, but I’m not sure that you really go about this the same way), amongst women, we have a way of taking something that is breaking us in half and saying we are fine. But, when we are in the middle of a group of women we trust, the barriers come down and something extraordinary happens.
A thread of silk, the only strength that she has left is to lay her heart, broken and bleeding on the floor with a thread of hope as the only source of strength. But, then comes another woman, who adds a layer, and then another and another. Each pulls out a thread of strength and places it on the table, made of the finest of skills. Each is a different color, each a different tinsel weight, but together they form a fabric that is soft and strong. So, the mother at the funeral, she is finally surrounded by these women, and in a moment with brave and angry honesty, she places her thread out. The others, then in a moment of comic humor, toss out their life lines as well. They laugh and cry, and then the raw wound begins healing. The bleeding is being staunched by the silk of feminine strength and friendship. Steel magnolias indeed.
Perhaps it wasn’t such a bad way to begin the day after all.

Grow Up

A fan of Disney movies, Peter Pan is right up there, especially the one with Robin Williams. They are flying all around, a then a great food fight. Or the song, Young at Heart, crooned by Frank Sinatra, those words are wonderful as well.

I just celebrated my birthday. Birthdays really don’t bother me. The only one that really has is 25, because it was a quarter of a century mark – which led to a few minutes of thinking. But, all in all – they really don’t bother me. I did receive the inevitable question several times though, “What are you going to be when you grow up?” I have to grow up?
No, not the Peter Pan type of staying away from growing up, where the actions and thoughts are childish, I don’t really want that. I think it’s more about being Young at Heart. Let me take the lessons learned, continue to dream, and still hold joy in my life – young at heart! Now that really doesn’t answer the question though. Let’s see, I want to be a friend, a woman, a Christ follower, a daughter, a cousin. I want to be accomplished in my profession, I want to be an author, an artist, a philosopher. I want to be someone who has the nerve to explore and the wisdom to know how to do that. I want to be a help, a leader, and a source of inspiration. I want to be creative, analytical, and independently dependent. I want to teach and to learn. I can’t grow up right away – I have a long list of things to do along the way!

Family

I remember as a little girl my mom saying that I was going to meet my new cousins. I don’t remember even thinking twice about it, “okay.” From that day on, they were no more and no less family than anyone else that was family. I am an only child and figure out I get to have at least one good oddity just because I’m forced to be the oldest, youngest, and middle – all at one time! As an only child, most people assume that I have a small family. Wow, are they wrong. My family is large enough that I’m not sure how many people it actually entails – yes, I’m serious.

The thing about family is that it is very important to me. It has grown and changed over the years. There have been new babies to hold, that smells like talcum powder and spit up on you at least once. There are good-byes that have been said, with many tears as funerals are performed and the family gathers in once again to give and get support. I think about the people who have become family, “kin” who are truly family now. I’m so thankful for them!
One of these people I have been remembering is like a sister to me. As the fourth of July approaches, the sounds of the patriotic songs bring back thoughts of sitting in Pensacola listening to the orchestra. Family is important to me. They can be loud and different, but somehow in the midst of the craziness – I fit in.

A Heart Condition

There was a lot of talk of blueberries on the trip, rich with antioxidants to allow the brain food it needs. There are lots of foods that are reputed to be good for the brain, good for the heart. Heart health is important, but there are a couple of different kinds of health that could be referred to under that heading. The physical heart, the muscle that pumps blood throughout the body is one. The emotional heart, as the seat of emotion, perspective, personality; that is another.

As I meet people in one location, and think of people I know in another location, I think of if the people in one spot would accept those in another. For instance, would the people I went to school with in college accept those who I work with or go to church with or befriend? Would those who have more than the surveyed norm accept others who have considerably less? Would those who have a different accent accept someone who sounds different, uses different terms of local vernacular?
Sometimes, I think we have a heart condition that makes us a little more reluctant to see beyond the initial differences. We grow stiff and established in our ways, set in our patterns until we find it hard to move and stretch, to encompass other things that seem new or different. What a wonderful heart condition it would be to have a wide open heart, to be careful and caring with each other, a heart condition of love.

Chords

Walking up to the top of the Fannin Eldgridge Cemetery, you climb and climb the hill. Walking on a dirt road, there are trees and ferns, wildflowers and moss, on both sides. Thick green growth with butterflies who fly more like dive bombers than the expected flitting creatures are accompanied by a few bees buzzing about. If you come a little late, or are a slower hill walker-upper than others, when you near the top third of the climb, the sounds of the singing occurring at the top seems to just be a sweet breath of air. It washes over you, flowing past and into you as you climb.

Yesterday, I made such a climb. We started out on time. Then, the realization hit that the box of hymnals that had been packed so that everyone could sing along, had been forgotten at the church. A quick trip back to retrieve those left us walking up the hill and listening to that singing. It’s not about how fast you climb the hill; it’s not even about how easy it is to climb the hill. Instead, this hill seems to be a badge of honor. The elderly used to state that if they could climb the hill one more year, then they must be doing all right with their health and would live another year. At the top, there was a small service with a short message and then more singing. Tall pine trees stood like sentinels around us, green and fragrant. Mosses of different kinds created soft and cushy spots on the ground. A rosebush was blooming pink blossoms. The tombstones needed to have the old flowers removed and the new flowers placed.
I enjoy the whole process, except perhaps for knowing that there are snakes in those woods. But, it is the music floating back down the rough dirt road that is something that stands out. Voices blend in different harmonies. Some voices are on key while others are off. Staccato or legato phrasing can be heard, with either sharp and quick words, smooth pronouncements, or something in between occurring. Some voices are very pure, others are nasal. The bass is present, the tenor, the alto, and the soprano. The harmony bends and sways with the music depending on how familiar everyone is with the piece. Sometimes notes are off and do not blend or perhaps are not resolved well. Others can barely be heard as they try to be invisible in their vocal contribution. The words are not always known, or how the parts split out to do their own thing. This can result in a momentary confusion and unsure sense of what to do next.
It wasn’t until later in the day that I really thought about the music and how family is a lot like that. Some come into this world with a beautiful tone, on pitch and pleasant to the ears. They are the encouragers, the ones who can make children laugh, or can speak softly to those who are frightened. Others can squall out a tune which will make the least of the vocally trained dive for cover. Sang with great gusto and absolute disregard for the others around them, the pitch wavers and jumps up to hide the softer. Those who are barely making any sound at all are there, even if they are difficult to hear. They may have the most beautiful harmony of all, but without additional courage no one will ever hear it. Harmonizers can move between parts and add an additional layer to what is there, building the strength of the music.
Family is a lot like this. Perhaps you can realize yourself in the midst of that. I watched children play and they were in a moment of harmony. Their squeals and laughter, mixed with the sound of the creek running around their toes was beautiful. It was a part of the music filled with little bubbles of sweetness and joy. At other times, the music was more somber. A cemetery was looked out over and those who had finished singing their music here and were leaving only their echoing themes were remembered.
There are signs commonly found about not getting to pick your family. Well, that is true. There will be discord from time to time. The very quiet one may grow louder and be tired of the one who always sings loud claiming all of the part. They will have to determine the new blend and start a new theme. Family is messy; there are many discords, many unresolved notes. But it is a symphony of sound, of tightly interlaced chords.

Joyful Noise

Make a joyful noise! I love to sing and may be found humming around just about anywhere. I have heard many people state that that just can’t sing. But, if you check out the psalm, when there is discussion of praise – it is not to make a beautiful noise, but to make a joyful noise. So, you can’t sing? Don’t like to sing? Okay – what kind of joyful noise can you make? A baby’s first cry to a new parent is a joyful noise. A honking horn to a kid who just got sight of their first car is a joyful noise. Pots and pans banging along with some internal tune is a joyful noise to the toddler. The joyful noise may sound different to different people. Words of affirmation, encouragement, coaching, teaching – joyful noises!

No matter what kind of “instrument” you use, make a joyful noise today.

Faithful

Ever been for a long walk and it starts to rain? The rain gets harder and heavier, you are soon to be drenched. Wet, cold, and growing discouraged as you are growing wetter and walking quicker. Walking faster, growing wetter, you keep walking in hopes that your destination will somehow be approaching you at a faster rate and you can meet somewhere in the middle. Discouragement and frustration grows until you are starting to produce wetness of your own, tears and sweat to add to the rain.

Now, change the picture slightly. Instead of you walking alone, you are now walking with someone else. Your destination is not any closer, it is still raining. However, your friend comes along side with an umbrella, raincoat, and galoshes. Stopping to put on the raincoat and galoshes, opening up the umbrella, your friend slips her arm around you and starts walking with you.
Walking with you, it is so much easier to face the rain. We have a friend available to us who will do just this. He will come along side, provide a wonderful protection against the rain, and journey with you. He is faithful.

Mother’s Love and Spit

A week ago I was watching a small herd of bison (buffalo) in Illinois. Two young calves had been born only days before and were out walking with the herd. One of them, took an opportunity to give her new baby a bath.

Some may say that the universal language is math, but in the case of moms, I think it’s a mother’s love and spit. Yes – spit. Didn’t your mom ever stick her thumb in her mouth, and then proceed to clean your face? Here it is, translated to a giant and beautiful animal, stopping to clean her child.

Yes, we can make faces as mom wipes away something after sticking their thumb in their mouth, but remember – it’s just mom saying that they love you.

Happy Mother’s Day!

Recognizing

We often wait until there is a ceremony, an event, or even a funeral to express how we feel about someone. Have you ever wondered why? How much would it mean to someone if we simply recognized them for showing up on a regular day, with regular weather, regular happenstances, regular, regular, regular…. But, in the midst of all that regularity, what if we stop to say thank you or I appreciate you? What a way to change a regular day into an irregular day.



How the world changes, the world of one individual simply explodes into fireworks when we recognize them for their efforts. Let’s give it a try!  Inspire someone, share joy with them.