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.

It’s the Little Things

I like to shop. I like to find the perfect pair of jeans that fit. I took about two years to pick out a dish set that I liked. I like to travel. I like to have the technology around me that makes life a bit easier. I like these things… but they are not the real joy of my life.

It is the little things, the non-thing things that are really the joy. It’s the big things of momentous occasions. For me, the little and big things are the sound of a little boy’s feet as he runs through the house. The color of the sky after a storm passes and the sky clears up to a blue that just looks clean and makes the whiteness of clouds stand out brilliantly. The smell of a fresh green bean picked right off of the green bean bush. Watching a fawn, still new and spotted, be allowed to explore its world for the first time just slightly away from mom. It is the sound of laughter with a friend. It is a friend you are so comfortable with that make-up, hair done, clothes carefully selected, and the house picking up not only does not have to occur, but you don’t ever worry about it because it’s just not going to be an issue. The smell and taste of the steam of freshly made hot coffee, pungently black and bitter in the nose. The feel of a hand of a brand new little life wrap around a finger. Puppy kisses that can’t help but make me giggle, as my dog tries to clean my entire face. The color of the birds, and the sound of a morning dove. Visiting just to visit and enjoying the company of a friend. Singing with the radio, signing in the kitchen, signing in the driveway, singing in the grocery store, just singing in general – can you see a pattern there? It is the feel of clean sheets and warm towels right out of the dryer. It is the smell of chicken on the grill and fresh sweet corn on the plate. It is the labor of a task well done and accomplished. It is the quiet time to listen to God. It is the goose bumps when you have just a glimpse of His awesome mightiness and love. It is the sounds of honest tears as pains are shared and not hidden. It is the sound of an argument worked through and not hidden from. It is the birthdays, anniversaries, hellos, and good-byes. It is the memories which make you choke up with emotion and the memories which come back fleetingly and startle you with their sudden clarity. It is the pain that God uses for a good purpose. It is a well fitting ball cap and the cool breeze on your head when you lift it up after mowing. It is sleeping in, and being thankful to be able to get up when the alarm clock goes off and there is no sleeping in. It is small town parades with candy and bands and fire trucks. It is back porch picnics with make shift tables and sitting on rugs on the concrete floor. The smell that is unique to books along it’s spine, I stick my nose in and breathe deep. It is a family who loves, friends who are family, and being a child of God.
It’s the little and big non-thing things.

Inventor

I mentioned yesterday that I needed to find ways to encourage and inspire myself to attain long term goals and objectives. But, how? Rewards at the end are nice, but when you are mid-way they can be sadly lacking. This started my thinking on how this happens. When I have been successful in completing something, what have I done to keep myself focused and energized? I have to become an inventor of motivation.

If I were to put on my mad scientist outfit, metaphorically speaking, make my hair stand on end, and have rows of chemicals in test tubes in the background, perhaps I could mix a formula for inspiration and motivation. Starting with a collection of the liquid energy and put a few ounces into our test tube. Then, I’ll drop in a few granules of patience which probably turn the whole thing blue. Stir in a green glob of stick-to-it-ness. It will have to be stirred quite well or that will just stick to the wall of the test tube. Place under a Bunsen burner and heat slowly. Add in a combination of the ingredients of determination, will, encouragement, and one heaping teaspoon of accountability. Remove from the heat and check for clarity. Then, spread liberally over the matter at hand, applying liberally whenever dryness appears.
For me, this takes the view of little bits and pieces. A calendar page with Shakespeare quoted, a phone call with a friend, a saying on something small, watching butterflies fly and Queen Anne’s lace stretching the little blooms up and out, the puppy who chases the butterfly while the other watches in mild amusement, a well written letter, a surprise card, listen to little feet run through the house and giggles floating back towards you, clean laundry, a good salad that someone else makes, and a cool morning breeze. They can each be a moment of movement to help me progress in my task.

Grass in the Sidewalk

I was walking up the hill to the car and it struck me that the grasses growing in the cracks of the sidewalk had withered to a very dead shade of plant burned brown. Just a few weeks ago, these plants were bright green and growing quite well. Yes, I know that sidewalks shouldn’t have grasses growing up in them without breaking the concrete eventually. I just remember noticing them because they were such a bright green.

The thing that really struck me as I continued up the hill was that I can empathize with those plants. Though this is not where I am currently at, I realize that just like those plants in the sidewalk, too much heat and not enough water makes me wilt. I need inspiration, time, quiet, noise, music, friendship, laughter, and love. I recognize that just like eating properly requires decisions and effort, so does growth. You can’t just toss out a long term goal of growth or change without planning some steps and how you will continue to re-invigorate your purpose along the way. Otherwise, you wind up just like the grass in the sidewalk, leaves dropped to the pavement, brown, and dry.

Small Towns Small Things

America is made up of small towns, lots and lots of small towns, with a few large towns tossed in for variety. Each small town has some commonalities, but they are all unique as well. Each has its own flavor and personality. There is an incredible cook, an artist, a story teller, playgrounds, schools, churches, and flowers. But, each one is a little different and each is special.

Life is also made up of many small things with a few big things tossed in. Remember that saying a few years ago which became so popular? Don’t Sweat the Small Stuff – and its All Small Stuff. Well, they got it somewhat right anyway. It isn’t all small stuff, and some small stuff shouldn’t be sweated and worried over. There are some great big things thrown in there as well. The majority of my days go by with small stuff, little things, minute gestures, seemingly trivial and insignificant decisions and conversations. Then, you look back over years of the small stuff with a few big moments thrown in and realize, it was all important!
I watched the sky clear over the Mississippi River last night. The rain came and then went, the clouds parted and then gathered again, hanging lower and greyer. Sparrows came and watched from the eaves of the shelter, hoping that there was food to be shared. A light rain pattered onto the pond and was caught in the light. Ducks splashed in puddles and their muffled quacks rang just above tapping of the water rain onto the water pond surface. Small moments, but important - enjoy the small stuff, it’s important.

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!

Inheritance

Knock, knock, knock; the door being knocked on was my alarm yesterday morning. A small Jack Russell Terrier came up to join me on the bed for a morning snuggle and rub. She is a sweet pup and gave me a good excuse for not jumping right out of bed. I was tired and struggling to get moving.
Finally convincing myself, and the dog, that we really should get up and face the day; I donned my work jeans, an old t-shirt, and pulled my hair back into a somewhat short pony tail. The idea was to get to Grandma and Grandpa’s house before the heat of the day really set in. My grandmother has had so many beautiful plants in her yard over the years that I think her whole hand must be green, forget just the green thumb thing. As a child, I remember leaving the kitchen and walking onto a concrete porch and the snowball bushes greeted me. Big white fragrant blooms and glossy dark green leaves were the gateway to a botanical playground. This was where I was headed, though it is not the yard of my childhood. It has been several years of poor health for my grandparent’s and the yard was showing the loss of energy that occurred as a result. Weeds were poking through, but the flowers were still there and still strong. My mother and I came with coffee cans, the plastic kind, rooting hormone, and trash bags. You see, these plants are in a way part of my inheritance, my legacy from this grandmother. She loved the beauty in the hybrid roses just as she did the wild roses, the weeds others threw away she could still name them and see them as beautiful.
“Now, try to get some with the roots on it,” Grandma said as I would dig. My mind drew a connection as I traced the roots to the dirt and dug deeply around them. Our inheritance, our legacy is something like that. It is a long rooted thing. By the end of a hardworking, very hot, couple of hours, the coffee cans were full of starts. Roses, snowball bushes, lilies, and other plants were tucked in with their native dirt, deposited for the day and night on an aunt’s shady porch and watered. My grandmother sees beauty in things others call weeds, potential in what others call hopeless. It is a beautiful inheritance that she has given and is giving her children, grandchildren, and great grandchildren.
Then, leaving there and after a much needed shower, I headed to a friend’s house. There are some friends if you are fortunate enough to find, you must tend and maintain the friendship because it is truly a priceless and precious part of your life. It was to this friend’s house I went next. Immediately surrounded by a comfortable place, where I feel welcomed so much by the fact that she doesn’t have to rush around like a mad woman trying to pick up. Isn’t that nice, when you are comfortable enough with someone to not have to do that on a very busy day, knowing that they didn’t come to see the house but you? This is a very special family, a husband and wife and son. The little boy is also receiving an inheritance. He can’t trace it back to a rosebush that his grandmother’s grandmother had at this point, but he has an inheritance nonetheless. It is one that his parents and grandparents are building for him, with their love, attention, instruction, teaching, discipline, joy, and care. I love to watch these two in action, because they are intentionally parenting. In other words, they are intentionally and continuously examining their role as parents and seeking to do their absolute best.
Intentionally looking beyond the names others attach to “flowers or weeds”, intentionally parenting and modeling behavior, intentionally seeking out the roots and caring for them and taking the risk of failure for the risk of success. It is a legacy indeed.

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.

Fear in the Answer

In the prior verse, Jesus had his authority questioned by the chief priests and elders.  But, he didn’t just hear the question and walk away from it without a response.

“Jesus replied, ‘I will also ask you one question.  If you answer me, I will tell you by what authority I am doing these things,’” (Matthew 21:24).  Okay fellas, I will answer your question but first, tell me one thing…  It seems pretty easy doesn’t it?

“John’s baptism – where did it come from?  Was it from heaven, or from men?” (Matthew 21:25).   In essence, did John come up with this idea himself or was it inspired by God? 

Then, comes the tension filled moments, the leaders talked about what was occurring and what the questions were, their answers were wrapped in fear.  “They discussed it among themselves and said, “If we say, ‘From heaven,’ he will ask, ‘Then why didn’t you believe him?’ But if we say, ‘From men’ – we are afraid of the people, for they all hold that John was a prophet.” (Matthew 21:25-26).  From heaven – then there is fear of a discipline, a correction from not believing John.  Then, they considered from men – but they were afraid of the power of the people, the beliefs that they held. 

Think about being tossed a question you don’t particularly care to answer.  If you hem and haw long enough, you may just answer – I don’t know.  This is what happened here.  “..they answerd Jesus, ‘We don’t know.’ (Matthew 21:27).

The response Jesus gave was , “he said, ‘Neither will I tell you by what authority I am doing these things.’” (Matthew 21:27).  Sometimes, we are required to step out on a limb and make a choice, make a declaration of what we think.  It is not possible to always ride between the two choice, eventually we either fall on the fence or fall off one side or the other. 

I am going to pray that any fences I am trying to ride will be shown to me so that I can make choices.  And, honestly I don’t want to fall off or on the fence (ouch!).  But, I would like to land well, on my feet, and continue on.  What about you?