Day Two: Southbound and down

• Drove 395 miles through Indiana and Illinois
• Stopped in Greenville, Illinois - just east of St. Louis
• Walked to the Huddle House, a busy little diner next door to our hotel

Day One: Heading out

• Lina's third birthday. I was so looking forward to spending time with her before leaving the state. Oops; sickness interrupted so that didn't work out. So sad.
• Teary goodbyes with my mom and Bob's brother. Serious health issues for both.
• Hit the open road about 8:30 p.m.
• Seemed to be leaving snow behind already.
• Stopped in Coldwater, MI, for the night. Starting to snow.

Life on the road: the eve of departure

Date: 12-29-13, the night before we leave, 8:40 p.m.

Location: Our cozy little cabin - for the last time for awhile, maybe ever

Outside: Turning really cold again after two days of thawing. Too bad we didn't get out of here today while it was a tad warmer.

Miles traveled: Just a few errands around home

Walked: Nope, except back and forth to the sheds and the camper. Very slippery underfoot.

Hubby is: Working on a blog post.

Recent happenings: Moving into the RV: packing the rest of our stuff away into storage; showing the property four times in the last couple weeks; a trip to E.R. last night for cardiac testing, slept in the rig last night - just to make sure everything is ready.

Unexpected: Walked into my mom's place to find a pan she is giving to me; realized it may be my last time to ever be in there. Weird feeling.

Noticed: That I don't feel the need to cling to any of the things there.

Made me smile: Smartfood white cheddar popcorn. My new favorite brand.

Blessings: What an awesome opportunity to start out on this big adventure. Feeling grateful.

Reading: Skimming just a little of several books to decide for sure which ones to take along.

Considering: I may still try to convince myself to leave some things behind that I already had packed.

Working on: A few empty bins sit ready to store the last minute stuff

Accomplishments: We got almost everything loaded and/or packed away today.

Lessons: I still have lots to learn - about myself, about life, about time pressure and physiology and stress, and about lots of things.

Agenda: Get to bed at a decent hour; sleep really well in that huge bed one last time; get up early and energized; finish up the last bit of leftovers for breakfast; pack up the last-minute stuff; hitch up the rig and hit the road.

Looking forward to: Being done with the decision-making and the packing and loading; getting away from the freezing temps; having more time to write and enjoying a modern kitchen again.

Next stop:  Waterford, MI to celebrate little Lina's third birthday with hugs and kisses.

Moving forward

You can't move forward

and stay in the past at the same time.

It just doesn't work that way.

There are some things you can take with you

and there are some things

you have to leave behind

because there just isn't room for them

where you are going.

It's time to move on and into the next place.

It's all good.

Be free.

 

- Toni Imsen

How few books can I take?

Tonight I tackled the daunting task of selecting just a few books to take with me. Over the last three years I have disposed of hundreds of books and still have hundreds more packed away in the storage sheds. In the last couple weeks of preparation for our adventure, I have been setting aside books that I might want to take. Tonight I decided to begin the final selections - hoping against hope that I might get it down to a dozen titles - altho' I couldn't imagine such a feat. I pulled the books from those two boxes I had set aside and unloaded my two small bookshelves of favorites and started the agonizing process.

I am happy to report that I just kept eliminating books from the piles until I now have two boxes full to put in storage and exactly 12 titles ready to go with me. That's right. Twelve. One dozen. For seven months. Unbelievable.

Now I must admit there is a chance that I will falter and pull a book or three back out of the boxes before they get stored away and before we hit the road, but at least for this moment I have accomplished a great and mighty task.

...

Oh, and yes, I must also point out that I'm talking about actual physical books here.  And yes, I am taking hundreds of titles on my Kindle as well.  So maybe that diminishes the nobility of my accomplishment.  Or at least it explains it.

Not so merry?

Wistfulness mixed with celebration. Wonderful people and events mixed with sad news and scary stuff. Mixed emotions, jumbled thoughts.  Anticipation of adventure; sadness of saying good-bye.  Excitement mixed with bits of fear. Celebration and loss tangled together.  Peace and joy get interrupted; good will toward men gets confusing.
 
My own jumble includes celebrating 10 years as a cancer survivor and saying goodbyes to loved ones in preparation for our upcoming adventure.  Meanwhile family and friends are dealing with a variety of stuff during Christmas week. Yes, I use the word "stuff" intentionally because there really is a lot of stuff. Good stuff, joyful stuff, the stuff of miracles, but also a bunch of really crappy stuff.

One friend remembers when her daddy died on this date when she was seven.  Another friend delivers a bouncing baby boy.

An aging mom makes the inevitable but sudden difficult decision to let go of her house and move into a tiny place.  A brother's sudden trip to the hospital awakens fear about a return of cancer.

Two different young guys proposed - and both received the yes answer they hoped for.  A young mom creates new Christmas memories for her two little girls when Daddy's medical crisis interrupts their travel plans.

Lots of friends try to stay warm after an ice storm cuts electrical power for thousands of people. They hope for fulfillment of the prophecy: 'The people walking in darkness have seen a great light; a light has dawned on those living in the land of darkness... '

Anticipation and expectations of beautiful and perfect holidays give way to mixed feelings.  Life goes on.  The cycle of life continues.  Birth and dying.  Sickness and health.  Prosperity and adversity.  Good news and bad.  Celebration and loss.    

Ten years

It was ten years ago today when I received the cancer diagnosis. It seems like I ought to commemorate it somehow. Like I must not ignore it nor waste it.

I guess the very best way is to hang out with the people who matter most to me. To love them greatly. To breathe in gratitude and breathe out kindness. To celebrate life and love.

Let the fun continue!!!

Life on the road: Preparing for departure

Today: The Friday before Christmas and the day before Solstice

Location: All snug and cozy in the recliner where I can gaze at the lights of the Christmas tree

Outside: Dark, evidently freezing rain. Sounds like schools are closed - all over the place.

Miles traveled: Probably none. Hopefully we can stay put today.

Walked: Not today. No safe place to walk these days. But soon...

Hubby is: Sleeping

Recent happenings: Oh, my! So many things happening so quickly.  So many decisions. So many plans coming together - and some still up in the air

Surprises: The fact that we will be living in southern California for the winter and spring.

Unexpected: The fact that my mom has decided to move into a smaller place.

Noticed: How weird it is that we have been down-sizing for three years and my mom is suddenly trying to do it all in a couple weeks. Even weirder that I won't be around to help her with it.

Discoveries: My friends don't all think like me and sometimes don't agree with me.  Yah, not a new discovery, just need to remind myself sometimes.

Made me smile: Kind words and good friends

Made me sad: Divisive declarations on Facebook, assumptions and allegations

Made me drool: That picture on Facebook of a "breakfast bake" made with refrigerator biscuits

Blessings: Oh, so many! One that comes to mind is the restorative power of sleep.  AND an amazing husband! Amazing, I say.

Reading: No time to read. So sad. But soon. Very soon.

Watching tonight: Perhaps a Christmas movie. Or perhaps West Wing...

Considering: What I can choose to leave behind from what I've already packed

Working on: Packing up all our stuff - to take with us, to donate, and to put in storage

Accomplishments: Wrapping up the remnants of 40 years of living at Hidden Hollows. Nope, we're not done yet, but we have come a long way and are getting close.

Lessons: I can only do what I can do.

Today's agenda: 
Finish several packing projects
Clean the cabin.  Again.
Pack things up for heading out for Christmas

Looking forward to: Hanging out with our kids and relaxing for a couple days before the final push and the big departure date

I like myself when I write

My writing instructor, Jeff Goins, recently posted this about why he writes (to express, to understand, and to remember) and challenged me to ask why I write. 

...

I like who I am when I write. I feel better about myself when I have a good writing routine. 

I am saner when I write. If I am so happy I can't stand it, my journal is always glad to listen and rejoice with me. If I start to panic, I can often sit myself down and work through it on the page.

I have something to offer others when I write. It might be something I have already written or I may write in response to a friend's struggle.

I love the sense of accomplishment when I am consistently, intentionally cranking out words. I am not naturally a very good finisher, but when I reach a major word count goal, I can be proud of myself.

I can let go of "stuff" easier if I first capture the thoughts and feelings about that stuff by writing. It might mean cherishing good memories to revisit some day. Or it might be capturing lessons learned for future reference.

...
That's why I write.

I can only do what I can do

Sometimes I notice that I am disappointed with myself.  This is one of those times - when I really wish that I had been able to keep up a better pace of blogging.  But I just haven't been able to do all that I wanted to.  I am pleased that I have kept a fairly consistent writing routine - even cranking out 60,000 words in November for the NaNoWriMo challenge!!!  However not many of those words are ready to publish.  I can and will choose to accept the reality and be patient with myself. 

I am really good at making excuses and it is sometimes hard to know whether that's what I'm doing or if this really is an unusually busy time.  Yep, it is.  It's not simply that I feel busy nor that I use that feeling to excuse my neglect of important stuff.  Nope, this time I am smack dab in the middle of an important life transition and am scrambling to keep up - so some things simply must take a back seat for another couple weeks. 

So what in the world is so all-fired important?  Only that we are wrapping up 40+ years of living here on this farm and stepping into a future of adventure and uncertainty.  We are taking another huge step of downsizing and my focus must be on sorting and pitching and storing and packing.  We had thought we had a month or two for this step, but things have fallen into place sooner than expected - so we suddenly have only a couple weeks to get everything done.  Yikes.

Gotta' find a balance.  On one hand, I simply must push myself to my limits in order to meet the deadlines in this race against time.  On the other hand, I choose to carve out special moments to slow down and cherish the joy of this wonderful season. 

...

When I can't make my fingers function in the near-zero temps of the storage sheds, I certainly wish I had done things differently - namely SOONER!!!  But it is what it is.  We will do what we have to do and what we can do.  That's the big thing I'm learning:  I can only do what I can do.  Oh, so profound.  Sometimes that means that I have to put a box BACK into storage that I had hoped to finish; that can make me feel defeated and discouraged.  But I can only do what I can do.

So instead of beating myself up for not posting here more often, I can be okay with my choices and know that I am doing what I can do.

Why Rock the Boat - guest post

Why do you encourage missional thinking? Why do you bring in innovative thinkers with their radical and transformational ideas? Why do you invest so much time and energy getting pastors fired up to lead their churches into organic, refreshing, authentic ways of doing ministry? Why do you push these amazing, wonderful, life-changing concepts and encourage pastors to implement them? Why do you convince people that disciple-making is not a program, but that it is a radical way of thinking and living, a fresh but ancient wave of spiritual reproduction? Why do you challenge church leaders to dismantle their fortress mentality and to learn instead what it means to unleash the church - to BE the church outside the institutional walls?
...

(Read the rest of this post here.)

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I wonder about so many things. Once in awhile I wish I could ask church leaders questions that I wonder about, but then I fear that nothing good would come of it. But if I could, if I thought it would matter, these are a few of the things I might ask.

I am excited to be invited to guest post on another blog, An Elbow in the Ribs. I thank my husband for encouraging me to keep wondering about things and to keep asking questions.

How I Got Free

How did it happen?
How did I get free from my fear of what people think of me?

That's the question my friend asked me after I posted this quote: "The greatest prison people live in is the fear of what other people think." Maybe I bragged a little about how good it feels to finally get free.  Maybe just a humble brag...
 
But how did it happen? she asked, so I decided to try to answer. As if I have it all figured out and have now arrived at the state of "no fear." Yah, I don't think so.

How did it happen? 
How indeed.

There is no simple answer, no magic list of steps to freedom. Instead it has been (and still is) a journey. A bumpy journey with scary twists and turns, steep hills to climb and slippery slopes to avoid. It has taken a combination of factors to get me turned around and on the road to health and freedom.

Probably the real turning point was when I started to ponder whose opinion really matters in my life. I can't possibly please everybody.  Of course I know that.  But still I tried. Oh, yah, I was a classic pleaser. I did not want to disappoint anybody.  Eventually, slowly, oh so slowly, I realized that by trying to please all those people out there somewhere, I ended up neglecting the very ones who really mattered - those closest to me and even myself.

Beginning to understand healthy boundaries has been a huge part of my healing and I am so grateful. It is such a simple concept, but so often overlooked. One of the most helpful books in my library is "Boundaries" by Dr. Henry Cloud and Dr. John Townsend. When I notice that something is out of whack in the ways I'm relating to other people, I pull that baby off the shelf and read it again. It is so dog-eared and marked up that I find myself hoping it will survive my lifetime because I suppose I might need to be reminded of its truth until the day I die. 

Basically the concept and the book are simply about responsibility, about learning what is my responsibility and what isn't. I appreciate the simple illustration of the fence between adjoining city lots being the boundary line of responsibility.  Yes, it is my responsibility to take care of my yard, but not to take care of my neighbor's yard.  While it is noble to be generous and helpful, people like me sometimes find ourselves "over-helping" with other people's responsibilities and thereby neglecting our own.

It has taken more than a little while to learn this new pattern and to recognize when it is necessary to stop and think about who I am responsible to. Who should I fear? When it comes right down to it, who do I really want to please? These questions are packaged tightly with a whole bunch of spiritual growth principles as well as mental health implications; therefore they require patient wisdom in sorting through them.

But I'm getting all philosophical here...

So yah, I need to figure out who it is that I want to please. Once I realize that I don't need to please John Doe, I no longer need to fear his displeasure. Whoa. That's true, isn't it? I mean, that is really true. I don't know that I've ever thought of it exactly like that before. If it doesn't matter what he thinks of me, well, then, why would I be afraid of him and his opinion? Wow! That really is freeing.

But the old patterns are strong.  Intimidation is a powerful force.  Fear creeps back.  That chronic helpless feeling that appears under the weight of manipulation and indimidation can be an incredibly tough habit to break.

This has not been a one-time deal for me. To the contrary, it pops up over and over and over again - sometimes with the same person, then at times with someone else. The fear may coincide with a position of power or authority or it may come with a specific relationship or role complicated by expectations or family history - like what a good son (or daughter or mother) should do.

Ah, yes, expectations. It can feel like everybody has expectations of us, demands they make, wishes they express. Because of this person's position over me (as I see it) I might find myself cowering with fear while scrambling to do everything within my power to please him or to fulfill her wishes and demands. Of course, I may also begin to feel resentful for being forced to perform on demand. In extreme cases we may even realize that we are moving toward a master/slave mentality.

How do I get free from this fear? By knowing the truth. Yep, one of my favorite people once said something about how knowing the truth shall set you free. Sure enough.

But what is the truth? I think it starts with what I've just talked about - figuring out what is appropriate, what is right in terms of bowing to the will of other people. However, I must admit that even just hearing the truth and trying to apply it can be complicated and guilt-inducing. I remember years and years and years of sermons about being a God-pleaser rather than a man-pleaser. About fearing God rather than man. A noble, lofty principle. Oh, how I used to long to be a God-fearer rather than a man-fearer.  Unfortunately wishing doesn't make it happen. So how in the world could I make it true for me?

Finally, I began to learn that I had to first recognize the things that were embedded in my brain that were NOT true. As long as I believed that I must fear this particular man, or that group of people, or the vague invisible "they" who always seemed to be unhappy about something, this fear couldn't help but occupy my thoughts and sap my energy. This false belief could keep me on my toes in a terribly negative way; let's just say it was not a happy dance.

Gradually, tentatively, I took steps to examine my beliefs - to test and see if they were valid.  When I noticed that I felt fear about someone's opinion, I learned to ask myself why it had surfaced. Is it appropriate for me to fear this person? Do I owe him something? Do I have a responsibility to make him happy? It took repeated "sessions" of asking and answering those questions before I began to get free from that person. And then another one would pop up. Someone else who wanted a piece of me. Someone else who loved me and had a wonderful plan for my life.

One by one, over and over again, I would ask and answer the questions. What is my responsibility to this person? Over and over again, I had to remind myself that this person was not my ultimate authority, not the person whose approval I need to seek.

It is important to note that this was not something I did all by myself. This journey, this battle is not the time or place for the Lone Ranger. I don't know how I could have made this journey alone. Good friends and encouragers are absolutely necessary to this process. I needed them to help me be objective. I needed them to remind me to ask those questions. I needed them to help me see the truth once again or to recognize the faulty thinking I had accepted - once again. I needed them to teach me the 12-step method for healing damaged emotions. I needed them to help me sort out whether it was time to seek professional counseling. Sometimes I needed them to help me rehearse for a possible encounter with a boundary-busting wannabe-authority-figure in my life. I even needed them to remind me to pull the "Boundaries" book off the shelf one more time.

If raising a child takes a village, and if healing damaged emotions requires a support group, it is easy to see that I need people around me in my struggle.  But they must be the right kind of people. They must understand healthy boundaries themselves. They must have a commitment to truth and wellness. They need wisdom and discernment to help me see when my perception has become clouded and when my vision needs correction. These are the people I must surround myself with.

There is another group of people who are not the right kind to be around for this season of healing.  'Tis true; some people fall into the "wise to avoid" category.  As much as it is possible and practical,  I am learning to minimize my time with these people when it is within my power. These would be the blamers and shamers - never a healthy bunch to hang around. This group would also include those who seem to specialize in complaining, demanding, gossiping and grumbling. I need to avoid these like the plague because those habits are contagious and deadly.   Please hear what I am NOT saying here.  I do not mean to imply that the people in this group are villains; otherwise I'd have to count myself because I've done my share of blaming and shaming and all the rest.  What I AM saying is that these habits create a toxic environment and I am wise to stay away.

Ah, yes; such a complex question - one that I've barely begun to answer.  Such a crazy journey - one that I've barely begun to walk.  But yes, at this point in my journey, I would have to say that my best companions have been people and truth. Good people. Healthy people. Wise people.  People who can point me to truth. Truth that sets me free. 


 

Grace in the shape of words

While I sit at my desk diligently pecking out words in the pre-dawn darkness, wondering if they will ever be read, if they carry value, if they matter, someone in another state pecks out a note of thanks for my words and speaks of how they have helped her.

That is grace.
I am grateful.
I receive the gift.
A gift of grace
A gift of words
Words of grace
 

Too much stuff, too many boxes...

So much stuff. What a long-standing problem. Clinging to stuff.  What a suffocating habit. Living in the same huge house for forty years lulled me into complacency - even though the piles were depressing. I called them piles, but maybe they were towers, some of them leaning more dangerously than the famous one at Pisa.

Moving out of the big house was a huge step. Every pile had to be dealt with in some way. I was smart enough to pitch lots of stuff at that time, but not nearly enough. Instead, too many piles became boxfuls of this or that or some other nonsense.

I chose to call it progress because at least we succeeded in pulling up those deep roots and getting  more mobile. My stuff became portable - which was rather unbelievable really. But portable clutter is still clutter and tends to get inordinately heavy. We will not want to lug all of this stuff with us in the next move so I diligently continue to go through these boxes sorting and pitching. At least I hope that I am being diligent.  Or am I kidding myself? 

The experts say that the first step of organizing is to gather like things together. I am still in process on doing that. You see; as much as I hate to admit it, there were odds and ends all over the place in those millions of boxes that made the initial move. Why in the world did I end up with bits of this and that in this box and more bits of the same type of things in some other box on some other shelf? To give myself the benefit of the doubt, there are reasons for that. For example, the big house had four bathrooms - so there were bathroom cleaning supplies and towels and band-aids and whatever else ends up in a bathroom that got packed up in four different places and probably at four different times. We also had three office areas in the big house. No kidding. There were "his and hers" computer and study areas besides the office office - which housed everything needed to run a family and a business and a ministry. Make that several businesses and several ministries through the years. So yep, office supplies got loaded up from more than one place.  So yah, there are reasons, but they quickly become excuses - and those excuses need to be pitched with the rest of the junk.

At any rate, I continue to go through the boxes and really deal with the stuff this time.  I really wish my progress were faster, but I at least I haven't quit. Many boxes have been dealt with and are ready for the next move but there are still a few awaiting attention. This morning I pulled out one more of those and started into the "piles" that were chucked inside. It is my project for this week.   

Speaking of which, I need to get to work.  This box is staring me in the face, daring me to tear into it.

...

And you? What is awaiting your attention? 
Can you see any progress? What does progress look like?

By the way, we celebrate every empty box.  What do you celebrate?

Missing the old days - Part Two

See Missing the old days - Part One here.
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Once in awhile I miss the old days.  But not really...

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I don't know that I have ever watched "Dancing with the Stars" and I don't know that I ever will. I have however seen a few episodes of other performance shows as well as the Olympics from time to time - enough to know there are two distinct sides to this brand of entertainment. There is the amazing talent, the emotion of the music, the personality of the performer, the beauty of the dance and the grace of the skaters - those are the wonders to behold and to celebrate.

Then there is the judging.   Oh, my, the judging - whether by the judges or the voting public.  The thrill of victory and the agony of defeat. But also the harshness, the picky critiques, the heart-breaking put-downs. I suppose there is a place for performance judging in our world, but some of our worlds contain far too much judgment and pettiness and far too little celebration and grace.

...

Some of the oft-repeated rules in my old world were demanding and difficult.   

• If you are sick, you must not have enough faith. Maybe you're not praying enough. Maybe you should throw away your pills.
• You have to submit and be more surrendered.
• Try harder and believe more strongly.
• You must be willing to pay the price.
• We must live in victory - all the time.
• Perhaps you are being punished for not having consistent daily devotions.
• When God says "Jump" it is not your place to argue or to wonder why. It is simply yours to ask "How high?" (Yes, yes, that one was probably for my protection more than about my performance, but it didn't always sound that way.)

...

But in my new world, rather than a harsh raspy-voiced coach bellowing out orders to try harder, to jump higher, to throw farther, now I discover a loving father and I hear the new rules from his gentle voice. 

• Dance with me. Don't worry about stepping on my feet. In fact, some of the time, you can just stand on them and let me do the work - just like when you were little...
• It's not like DWTS. You will not be critiqued by judges. America will not vote on your performance.
• In fact, don't even think about an audience - because they don't matter. That's right; dance like no one is watching.
• Don't fret about how to keep the steps in order. Just relax and follow my lead. Lean in and feel the graceful rhythm.
• Let the music sink into your spirit and feel the breeze on your face.
• Enjoy the dance.
• Celebrate. 

...

I miss the old days like I miss having two left feet!  Being klutzy is no fun. Neither is always missing the mark.  Feeling like a failure gets really old.

Good-bye, Judgment.  Hello, Grace!

Missing the old days - Part One

Sometimes I miss the whole prayer thing. The program, the plan, the ritual. Ten steps to effective prayer. The rules and principles. At those times when I am terrified or wildly hoping for some amazing thing, yah, sometimes, I miss the formulas. The trying harder to muster up enough faith. The human effort thing.

When I'm feeling desperate and impatient, I guess maybe I like having something to do - some direction to channel my nervous energy. When I really, really hope that this thing is to be, but yet am afraid to hope, maybe I wish there was some way that I could tip the balance. Some prayer I could pray, some promise I could claim, some attribute of God that I could call upon to please, please, please do this for me. Some Scriptural principle I could follow. Some Biblical fast I could undertake. Some magic formula. Some guarantee.

But maybe I see things differently now. Instead of frantic petitioning, I sense a more peaceful trusting on my part. A quiet confidence in a loving Father. Perhaps a greater acceptance of the reality that I am not in charge of everything in my world, but I am responsible for my reaction to the things that come. Maybe there is a calmer contentment with what is.

After all, if I believe in a God who created me and knows me... A God who cares about me. A God who is good and kind and compassionate. A God who is all-powerful and all-wise. A God who works all things together for good to them who love Him and are called according to His purpose. If there is a God like that and if I trust Him, well then, maybe I don't have to get all worked up and make frantic demands, "Please, Papa, please!" or "Oh, dear God, what can I DO to get you to do what I want?"

...

Yes, I guess sometimes I miss the old prayer rituals, but mostly in a good way - like I miss being congested. Like after being sick for a week with a nasty head cold, and then waking up one morning feeling better. Like breathing in relief and breathing out gratitude. Like being excited that it feels so good to feel good again!

What if it is not about my performance, about me getting the steps in perfect order? What if it is not about claiming the right verses or saying the right prayers? What if it's not a check-list of rules and regulations and rituals?

What if it is simply a gift? Can I breathe in the quiet realization that I am loved? Exhale. Deep sigh. Grace. Joy. Delight. Gratitude. Trust. Relief. Feeling cherished. Humbled to know that I did not earn this. I could not have earned it - no matter how hard I tried.

Yes, sometimes I miss the old congestion - just before I notice that it feels so good to feel good. To be able to breathe freely.  Ah..........

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...and now for Part Two of "Missing the old days"

Five-Minute Friday: Write

Five-Minute Friday
It is Friday.  I haven't done FMF for a really long time.
Thinking about doing it again.
Write for five minutes with no editing.

Finding a timer
Setting it for five minutes
The prompt is: WRITE
Ready... Go!

...

Write

I want to write. At least I say that I want to write, but then I question myself so often. I ask if I really do want to write - or do I just want to have written. Yes, I've written about writing - about the process of writing, about all this - numerous times.

When I write profusely, I feel good about it. When people like what I've written, I feel even better. When I don't write much, I feel sad - or guilty or defeated or something. I ask myself why I don't write when I say that I want to.

Writing coaches say to ask yourself why you want to write. Why really? I might go there here. On the other hand, I also wonder why I don't write.

I don't write because I get distracted. I may think of something that I really want to write about, but then something else comes along to grab my attention.

I don't write because it is hard work. An idea comes together and I may speak it and it keeps growing and I say I need to get this down. But then I try and it doesn't come together the same way again. At least not easily. It feels like hard work. It is hard work.

I don't write because I keep running out of time. Like right now... Time is up.  Drats! 

But I did write.

　

　

　

Yah, but...

We've all heard people say it. We've said it ourselves. We might agree with a sentiment, but doubt its possibility. We might think something is too good to be true. We may wish for it, but feel too fearful to try.

Writer Jeff Goins says these words "Yeah, but..." can kill your dreams. I agree that they can be deadly words. At the very least they can immobilize us. I have done my share of giving in to fear or discouragement by using those words. I might say "YES!" in my heart to what I'm reading or hearing or imagining, but then immediately think of all the reasons why it won't happen or it can't work.

Does it have to be that way?

...

I love to mark books up when I read them. In fact, I often don't enjoy reading a book as much if I don't have a pen or a highlighter in hand to mark the best parts.

I have been known to scribble "YABUT" in the margin of books I was reading - my shorthand for "Yah, but..." Yah, this is good stuff, but I'm skeptical. Or this is wonderful, but I don't have the confidence to try it. Yah, I love this concept, but there are just too many obstacles.

Or there might be another reason - a pretty good one actually. I might read or hear something exciting. Yah, it may sound good on the surface, but I need to think it through a little more. Yah, I like this, but it doesn't line up with what I believe - which can then provide the catalyst for evaluating what I really believe. (Yes, I know that is a scary thought to many people, but I think it is very healthy to evaluate what I believe and why.)

...

Then something interesting happened...

Somewhere through the years, instead of my old "YABUT" I noticed that I was writing "YBH?" in the margin. "Yes, but how?" Yes, this is good stuff, but how can I do it? How can I work through the obstacles to make this happen? How can I figure out how to accomplish this in my own life?

...

Back to real life...

I'm happy to note that we seem to have incorporated my "YBH?" from my book-marking habit into some of our real-life circumstances. Case in point: When we suddenly felt "released" from this place three years ago... This peaceful lovely tree farm that had been our home for 40 years... We found ourselves so excited about getting the freedom to travel and explore and try living somewhere else. Not surprisingly, we began the "Yah, but..." line of reasoning. Yah, but we have a mortgage. Yah, but how will we sell this place? Yah, but do we really WANT to sell the place? Yah, but what about all of our stuff? Yah, but we have SO much stuff!!! Yah, but how will we finance any of this? Yah, but where will we live? Yah, but will we be able to let go of it all? Yah, but would we regret it?

They were good questions. Valid questions, valid concerns. Legitimate obstacles. These questions, these objections, these obstacles... had the power to stop us cold in our tracks, right where we were. Or they could push us to get creative in our problem-solving and our evaluating of the situation. We made the tough choice to begin the hard work of discovering what really mattered to us and then tackling those obstacles one at a time. I'm really glad we did.

Instead of getting stuck on "YABUT..." we moved on to "YBH?" Yes, we really want to do this thing, but how in the world can we make it happen? One step at a time, one obstacle at a time, we continue to assess what it was worth to us. Some things were hard to let go of, but we decided to make the sacrifice, to pay the price - for something even better. Other things we choose to keep, to cherish and protect and preserve and treasure.

...

So what about it? Is "Yah, but..." a bad thing? Always? Should I ever listen when I hear it?

I want to be alert to that phrase when I hear myself (or maybe even someone else) say it. I guess I want to pay attention to the sentiment, but not let it control my decisions. I think I'm learning to take an honest look at the objections. Are they valid? Is this a red flag I see? Is it there for good reason? Is it a warning?

Maybe I mostly want to be alert to whether I am using "Yah, but..." as an excuse for not doing something that I could or should be doing. Certainly there are obstacles, but have they become excuses or cause for whining or pity? Maybe I should set about the business of dealing with them. Maybe it's time to scratch out my "YABUT" from the edge of my page and think "YBH?" instead. "Yes, I love this idea enough that I want to figure out how to do it."

YES, but how?!?

　

　

One a day?

Piles. So many piles. 

Piles await my attention. 

I pile things up. Things that I need to deal with today. This week. But then I don't get it done today.  Or tomorrow.  I might not even get it done this week.  It gets piled on last week's pile. Before ya' know it, there's another pile from next week. The pile just keeps getting higher and higher.

What am I going to do about these piles? When am I going to take control of them? When indeed?

Maybe I need to tackle one pile each day. One is better than none. Even a small one is better than none.  I am trying to remind myself of the power of one.  I've tried it before and wrote about it here.

But how will I motivate myself to do it? How can I enforce it? Or maybe more importantly, how will I remember?

I don't suppose anybody else has this problem. I'm sure you don't pile things up and then forget about them. So how do you keep current on things that threaten to hang around and pile up? Do you have any tricks that might help me?

Stupid Sappy Sticky Stuff!!!

I just got all sticky! Again. I hate getting stuck!  It happens far too often.  You'd think I'd learn.

Nope, I'm not talking about getting bogged down with something. Instead I'm talking about getting all sticky and then getting stuck on everything else. There are lots of sticky things in life - pancake syrup, dried soda pop or Kool-aid, forgotten drips of ice cream, and the moms among us can think of a whole lot more - but maybe none so nasty sticky as tree sap, also known as pitch. Stupid sticky stuff!  Yuck!!! I really do hate the stuff. At our new place my lawn chairs keep getting attacked by sap dripping from the trees above - setting the stage for mega-doses of frustration. You'd think I'd learn to protect them - and I do try, but not always successfully.

Sure enough, the silent enemy sat lurking on the arm of my chair today, lying in wait for the next unsuspecting victim - who happened to be me. Once I discovered the damage, it was too late - even though it was only the beginning! I now had sap on my elbow - so since we live on a Christmas tree farm I headed for the bottle of pitch remover.  I scrubbed and scrubbed until I thought that I got rid of it and then re-scrubbed with soap and water to wash off the pitch remover. Alas! To my dismay I discovered sometime later that I had NOT indeed gotten rid of it all, but that there were still a couple spots that had now been generously transferred to the corner of my desk as I typed.

Go for the pitch remover.  AGAIN. Think we have it all off this time. Clean off the corner of the desk as well. Put everything away. Back to work. Oops! Still sticky corner and sticky elbow - although unsure this time which is villain and which is victim. Which is the stick-er and which is the stick-ee. Grrrr...

What in the world?!?!? Evidently, something is inferior and ineffective about my method of cleaning - even though I have gone back to the bottle numerous repeated times and although I have gotten more aggressive with each repeat. What am I to do? One side of the napkin that I grabbed to try to run interference is now sticking to the desk, the other side sticking to my elbow. In the meantime, my shirt has picked up a piece of the action as well (of course!) so now I also have to figure out how to handle such matters on a laundry level.

How frustrating! Makes me want to stomp my feet and scream about how much I hate sap. Yah, I'm pretty sure that would help me feel so much better and would instantly solve everything.

...

Then I start thinking about other messes and other times that I get annoyed or stuck. I get into a sticky situation which then messes up everything else that I try to do. Over-commitments, unrealistic and unmet expectations, not getting my own way, not getting enough sleep, too much clutter, too little patience, my tendency to control things and fix people, my need to be right, frustration and irritability spilling out in harsh words... all of these can land me in sappy messes. The harder I try to clean it up and move on, the more places my mess seems to show up.

Why do I let myself get into such sticky spots? And how do I extricate myself without causing further unnecessary damage.

Often the trigger is something beyond my control but there are times when I could have avoided the whole mess if I had paid more careful attention before sitting myself down. Healthy boundaries, regular de-cluttering and other wise practices can be good preventive measures, but must be regularly monitored and repaired when necessary because boundaries will be busted, clutter builds up again, and selfishness surfaces quickly.

As for a solution once I have gotten into the sticky mess, well, I'm afraid I still don't know of any pitch remover that really works magic. Sometimes I have to work hard to scrub away the mess, but I am really sad to say that sometimes I guess I need to just let that sticky sap wear off - even though it will take time and I do not like that feeling. When that lesson is applied to my other messes, it is really hard for a fixer like me to just "let it go" and let things work themselves out but sometimes I have to. 

...

Sure enough; that's what I've been learning lately - that I can't always fix things.  Drats!  That sometimes I just have to accept what is.  Phooey.  That's not comfortable; not comfortable at all.

Adventure and Inconvenience

“An adventure is only an inconvenience rightly considered.
An inconvenience is only an adventure wrongly considered.”  
          ~ G. K. Chesterton

Rob Bell and a new American Christianity - a book review

I have previously read several books by Rob Bell and have now read a book about him by James K. Wellman, Jr. - entitled rob Bell and a new American Christianity.  Before being asked to write about Bell, Wellman had little knowledge of him, but has done a commendable job researching and pulling together an overview of Bell's life and ministry, but particularly of his spiritual journey.  However, this book chronicles not only Rob Bell's story, but also at least one slice of history of American Christendom.

Wellman tackles several of the labels that others have attempted to hang on Bell (i.e. subversive, celebrity, radical, heretic) and investigates each one - and in fact, wrote entire chapters around some of them.  The result of his work strikes me as a fair and helpful summary of Rob Bell's theology and his ministry methods.  I appreciate the balance between questions like "Did Bell go too far?" (p. 94) and "Did Bell go far enough?" (p. 109)

Through the years I have watched the nooma videos, I have read Bell's books, I have visited Mars Hill, I have stood in a little huddle with him as he prayed for my daughter and son-in-law who were heading off to India.  Yes, I have generally appreciated Rob Bell's teaching all the while realizing that he is just a man, an imperfect person - so I don't automatically believe or agree with everything he says.

This biography provided me with a time line of Bell's journey that in several ways has paralleled my own.  As I continue to wrestle with my own study of theology, it was helpful to read again Bell's interpretation of the story of salvation.  He asks the question, "Does it begin with the fall?" and points out that our focus will be different depending on whether we start in the first or the third chapter of Genesis. 

I appreciate Bell's lofty view of God and I tend to agree with his assessment that "the God we construct is always too small."  Bell believes the gospel "is always and forever revealing itself in actions of charity whether inside or outside the church" but that it "can be distorted by dogma and obscured by those who seek to own it."  (p. 154)

I have learned some things from Rob Bell.  For example, I have been inspired to study carefully and to think responsibly.  His illumination of the Jewish culture in Jesus' time has encouraged me to dig into what a passage really meant within the original context.  I have also been challenged to believe the best about God but especially to go beyond belief and take action, to participate in the life of Jesus - in the word becoming flesh.  Since reading this book, I have been reminded of those lessons - and my sense of mission has been stirred and renewed.

So do I recommend the book?  To those who have been warned to stay away from Rob Bell and who are fearful of "contamination" I will not try to convince you to read it.  But if you might enjoy an outside perspective of Bell's theological journey, then yes, I would recommend it as a good read.

accomplishment, credit

“It is amazing what you can accomplish if you do not care who gets the credit.”
     ~ Harry Truman

Shame on you!

Shame, shame; shame on you.

There seems to be lots of shame hurled around these days - epidemic proportions.  Maybe there's a new game on the market - called the blame and shame game.

Shame on you.

When is it appropriate to say that to another person?  Is it ever appropriate to say that to another person?  I'm not sure it ever is...

Oh, yah, I'm pretty sure that I used to say it, but now I wonder.

...

I do not like the feeling of shame - no matter the source.  It's one thing if I do something to bring it on myself and another totally different thing to have someone intentionally shame me.

Does shame accomplish any good purpose? 
Does it cause unnecessary harm?

...

I want to live a life of grace.

I want to receive grace and I want to extend grace.

I wonder where shame fits in a life of grace.

Hmmm...

the real discovery

“The real voyage of discovery consists not in seeking new landscapes but in having new eyes.”
              
               ~ Marcel Proust

Not sure how I feel about that

"Not sure how I feel about that."
Those are the words she said, but what I heard was more like, "I do not approve of that."
They sounded judgmental to my ears, almost like "I do not approve of you."

...

Different occasion:
"I'm not sure what to think about that."
Those were the words that came out of my mouth.  I did not mean them to be judgmental or disapproving, but I now realize that they may well sound that way in the ears of someone hearing them.  Someone who felt like I disapproved of them.

...

Two separate conversations.
Two separate issues.
Similar words.
Totally different understanding.
What made the difference?

 ...

Probably the main difference is that one time I was the hearer, the judged, from whom approval was being withheld.  In the other instance I was the speaker, and possibly the judge.

Is it possible that the first speaker did not intend to judge me? 
Maybe.  But I certainly felt judged.

Is it also possible that someone hearing the second conversation may have felt judged by me, may have felt the lack of my approval, even though that was not my intent?
Maybe.  I must admit that my words may have sounded like judgment.

...

Moral of the story:
Be aware that my words may come out sounding like disapproval even when I don't mean them that way.  Duh. 

Another difference could be the tone of the two conversations.  The first was full of questions - almost an interrogation.  The second was mostly listening.  Learning.

Yep, listening is usually a good thing.
I could learn to do more listening.

Thankful Thursday: Forty-Two Years Together

I have been practicing Thankful Thursday for a couple years now. I do not want to take for granted the many blessings I have been given. Instead I want to live with a sense of wonder and appreciation and gratitude.

Some Thursdays I have to stop and think about it before I come up with something.  I guess that would prove that this is a good exercise in helping me pause and be more aware.  Other weeks there is something obvious that I am already feeling thankful for.  Some weeks I pick something little and sometimes it's a biggie.  Sometimes I make a list of several things.

Today is Thursday and this time it's a biggie for which I am thankful.  Yesterday marked forty-two years married to an amazing man.  That's forty years in the house we built together plus one year before building it and now one year since moving out.  That's forty-two years of better and worse, of richer and poorer, of sickness and health, of loving and cherishing and being loved and cherished. 

I remember those early days when I knew in my head that we would (hopefully) grow to love each other even more than we did then, but I could not imagine how that would be possible.  That did, in fact, turn out to be true and now I can not imagine life without this man. 

I remember how proud I felt to wear his ring and to have the world know he was mine.  I also remember losing the diamond out of my engagement ring and realizing that our rings were but a tiny part of what we had given to each other and what we shared together.  

After this many years, our aging bodies remind us that we should indeed be thankful for the good days, the rich times, the healthy times.  We realize that we have no promise of more weeks or years and that we should be doing the things that we still want to do.  For example, before we were married, we talked of being happy together in Alaska, but we haven't made it there yet, so it's time to make that a priority.

The only thing that could taint my happiness is the knowledge that this relationship has been more than a bit lopsided.  He has given me far more than I have given him and he has put up with more crap from me then I have had to deal with from him.  He has built desks and bookshelves and cupboards and closets for me - not to mention a house or two.  He has painted paintings and recorded music for me and grilled pork chops for me.  He has taken me camping and to foreign countries and out to dinner.  He has been patient and he has supported me in my dreams.  He has loved me well.

I am grateful for this lopsided deal - grateful and amazed.
I look forward to lots more Thankful Thursdays together.
I plan to enjoy every week that we have and to keep finding ways to celebrate.

On this Thursday, I am so very thankful.

Values for 2013

June is the middle of the year - not a bad time to evaluate what a year is about.  Normally I shy away from New Year resolutions - because I don't have a good success rate with them - or with most goals in general.  Near the beginning of this year, I heard someone* talking about choosing a value for the year rather than setting goals.  I liked the idea a lot, but I couldn't pick just one.  Yah, I've never been good at narrowing my focus, which just might maybe relate to my failure at finishing goals.

But I did come up with a little list of things that I wanted to value for 2013 - and I got especially geeked when they lined themselves up rather alliteratively.

I value these things for 2013:

• Writing
• Wellness
• Wideness
• Wisdom
• Wonder
  
  

Obviously these are not the only things that I value, but these are the ones that I selected to focus on, to work on or improve or increase.  I chose not to restrict nor define them, but simply to list one word for each and to "keep them in mind" through the year - whatever that would mean.  Each item on my list has special significance for me - increasingly so as the year goes along.

Writing is the one that is most about activity and accomplishment, but it is also about my identity.  I am beginning to think of myself as a writer and to think of writing as my work.  No longer do I feel guilty for spending too much time doing the things that make up my writing work.  To the contrary, I choose to value my writing work and to make time for it in my calendar.

Wellness speaks to me of awareness and attitude and action.  Rather than thinking about what I should or shouldn't do, I want to value wellness in my choices about activity, food, rest, stress, and healthy boundaries and in the priorities in my schedule.

Wideness takes me back to an old hymn from my childhood: There's a wideness in God's mercy like the wideness of the sea.  I want my mercy and compassion and kindness to be broad rather than tight and narrow and judgmental and restrictive and I hope that my world keeps growing ever wider with people who are different from me.

Wisdom is something that I have long wished to attain and have tried to pursue.  I really, really want to be wise in my own personal decisions as well as in my treatment of other people.

Wonder beckons me in recent years.  I want to thrill in the wonder and awe of this life and this world.  I also choose to value the exercise of wondering about things that I struggle to understand - things from how the solar system works to how a soft answer can possibly turn away wrath.  Hence the name of my blog.

...

So how am I doing?
Since my purpose was simply to value these things, it seems that I have been rather successful.  I keep the list where I can see it regularly and I often think about these things when making choices about what to think or how to spend my time.  I can say for sure that my appreciation for these items continues to increase - which might be an indication of success.  In fact, I find myself thinking that they may be a good list to keep for life.

...

Some people write a personal mission statement. I have often wanted to have one, but have not yet succeeded in getting it together.  Other people choose a life verse or some kind of motto they live by.  And yes, lots of people set goals and actually complete them.

Please leave a comment about what works for you.
What do you value?

...

* Credit for this idea goes to James Prescott, a fellow student in the Tribe Writers' course I've been taking.  When I wrote the above post, I could not remember where I had heard the idea, but came across it in some notes today.  Read his post about it here.  Thanks, James; the idea has been valuable to me.

Oh, the changes a day can bring!

I have distinct memories of that day. I was meeting with some close friends that afternoon. We heard the sound of a siren coming up the highway and noticed that it seemed to be stopping right out front. This is quiet farm country so we went outside and watched as the ambulance turned west on Adams Road. I think I breathed a prayer for those involved as I often do when I hear sirens. I never thought about my brother owning property over there at the end of the road – or that it might be my family who was dealing with a crisis.

After we had been back inside for a few minutes, there was a knock on the door and my sister-in-law appeared telling me that my dad had died. We got in her truck and went to the field. My brother took me to the tractor where Daddy was slumped over – as if he had just fallen asleep. I will always be grateful for that opportunity to see him looking so peaceful in that tractor cab. It was somehow comforting for me in the days to come. Plus I guess it was my chance to say good-bye.

I also have a whole wagon-load of memories from the next few days – listening to so many testimonials about the life of this man. As I heard the sentiments of those who had been touched by his life, this thought emerged: “Some people love things and use people. This man was different in that he used things and loved people.” He didn’t really care that much about things; making it crazy difficult it was to find something to buy him for Christmas. Last year's new wallet was still in the box because the old one wasn't worn out yet. But he did care about people and they knew that he loved him.

But more than that day, and more than those stories, I’ve been remembering him in ordinary life. Day after day as I mow the grass around this place – up and down the rows of Christmas trees – I think about my dad. He and his dad perhaps had toiled to clear the trees from this land so that they could farm it and. I ponder the irony – that we had the nerve to ask him to help us plant trees on these cleared tillable acres. He may have thought that was a move in the wrong direction, but he didn’t scold us. Instead he cheerfully drove that little old Ford tractor towing the little one-row planter with my husband perched on the planter seat, inserting Scotch pine seedlings into the ground – one at a time – row after row.

Those seedlings did indeed mature into beautiful Christmas trees and some years later my dad again came to help on the “west 40” – this time driving an old John Deere tractor and serving the customers who came to buy Christmas trees. He relished his role as host and guide – giving wagon rides, making customers feel welcome and helping them build family memories. How fun to see his old “train conductor” hat put to such good use.
...

And now he's gone - some seventeen years. The Christmas trees have grown up to make this place a glorious green retreat just waiting for the right buyer to come along and snatch it up. All of us have grown up since then, too - or at least we have grown... in lots of ways. 

Things change - through the passing years so that we hardly notice - and sometimes in a day when everything is suddenly different. We notice those days and we remember.

June 4, 1996, was one of those days.

...

Do you have memories of my dad, too? Please leave a comment to share one of yours.

...

Compiled from bits and pieces written on this date through the years...

Church Matters

Yes, church matters.

If the church is the "body" of Jesus, then it matters greatly.  The church can and should be a powerful force for good when it is in the business of love and grace and healing and forgiveness and delivering Good News.  However, at times throughout history the church has also been a powerful force for harm - and this ought not to be. This unbelievably sad reality damages and destroys people as well as the reputation of the church.

"Church matters" can also refer to the business of the Kingdom that so many of us have been caught up in.  These church matters can drain our energy and dominate our time and our thinking - especially if we are in a leadership role, but even if we are "just" lay people.  While it can be argued that any organization will need some kind of organizational structure, it is wise to remember that we are not called to bow down to the structure nor to people in positions of power.

During the decades that I invested my time and energy in church matters, I learned a lot about what matters to many in the church world.  I have sat through discussions about the four P's that church leaders need to discuss: purpose, people, program, property.  Some of the discussions were lively and fun while others were neither lively nor fun - discussions about how those four things should line up and about how they really land in each of our churches.  Then there are the rules to live by - the things by which we judge spiritual growth or personal holiness.  What a crazy long list that one is!

I do not blame any person(s) for the setting of external standards; indeed, I dared to "instruct" on the "standards of life and conduct" and to encourage steps of spiritual growth. What I mean to say here is that I have finally realized that many of those church matters are not what really matters.

Are there steps that lead to spiritual growth?  Quite probably, just like there are steps to other kinds of growth.  Will there be evidence of maturity in the lives of believers?  I certainly hope so. What I object to is the practice of measuring "spirituality" or "holiness" or even worth and value by outward appearance - things like church attendance, tithing, philosophy of ministry, preferred style of music, volunteerism, time management, Bible reading or memorization, diet, habits, political affiliation, or other external behavior.

...

Quite possibly the preceding paragraphs provide more detail about church matters than most of my readers would ever want to know.  Indeed.  But yes, church matters seem to really matter to church people.  My whole point is that we are missing the point if we obsess about these things. 

...

So what really does matter?

At this point, I can only answer for myself as part of the body of Christ.  To do that, I try to focus on Jesus, on His life and teachings as my example.  I know that love and grace are probably the things that matter most - as well as forgiveness and generosity and healing.

In fact, I just might come up with my own list of what I believe the church should be about: reconciliation, redemption, and restoration.

I believe these are things that really matter.

No use for adventures!

"I am looking for someone to share in an adventure that I am arranging, and it's very difficult to find anyone."

"I should think so - in these parts! We are plain quiet folk and have no use for adventures. Nasty disturbing uncomfortable things! Make you late for dinner!"

- J.R.R. Tolkien

How could the end be happy?

Frodo:  I can't do this, Sam.

Sam:  I know. It's all wrong. By rights we shouldn't even be here. But we are. It's like in the great stories, Mr. Frodo. The ones that really mattered. Full of darkness and danger, they were. And sometimes you didn't want to know the end. Because how could the end be happy? How could the world go back to the way it was when so much bad had happened? But in the end, it's only a passing thing, this shadow. Even darkness must pass. A new day will come. And when the sun shines it will shine out the clearer. Those were the stories that stayed with you. That meant something, even if you were too small to understand why. But I think, Mr. Frodo, I do understand. I know now. Folk in those stories had lots of chances of turning back, only they didn't. They kept going. Because they were holding on to something.
 
Frodo:  What are we holding onto, Sam?
 
Sam:  That there's some good in this world, Mr. Frodo... and it's worth fighting for.
 

― J.R.R. Tolkien, The Two Towers

...

My friend is in the middle of the story - where it's all wrong.  Full of darkness and danger.  Wondering how the end could be happy when so much bad has happened.

That particular part of my story has passed. That dark and dangerous part.  That shadow.  Sure enough; even darkness must pass.  A new day has come.  The sun shines out the clearer.

I want to encourage my friend to hold on, but I do not want to be insensitive to the danger and the fear.  May I always remember enough of the dark parts of the story to be a good friend.

...

How about you?  Where are you in your story?  Is it still dark and dangerous or has the sun begun to shine again?  Are you able to remember the great stories - the ones that really matter - and to see that you might be in the middle of one?  Can you find something - anything - to hold on to?

Brennan Manning and me: Ragamuffins R Us

Last month as I joined others in grieving the loss of Brennan Manning's presence on this planet, I realized that he was maybe the first person to open my eyes to grace - to my need of it. Yah, I know that sounds more than a little hoity-hoity, but I’m serious. Up until then I thought it was all about being good - behaving properly, following the rules, being careful not to displease God.  Performing. Living victoriously. In my head I knew about grace, but my heart couldn’t seem to grasp it.

And then my first-born came home from college with a book for me - after Manning had been there to speak at chapel - introducing me to an amazing man and a whole new realm of thought to process which of course was not new at all.  

The more I think about him and his influence on my life, the heavier the weight of gratitude that began to settle in on my heart. I can’t help but wonder where I would be if not for Brennan Manning and The Ragamuffin Gospel. There’s a really good chance that I would still be living in bondage to religious rules - still a Pharisee. Oh, how I rejoice in being free. I can’t begin to describe how wonderful it is. I really am all choked up as I type. Grace. What an amazing thing! 

Just the week before he died,I had gone to the storage shed to search for my copy of ragamuffin gospel because I wanted to take another look at it.  I can always use another dose of grace.  I am again making my way through the book - slowly - because I keep re-reading some pages over and over - and that's okay.  I am thankful that there is such good news for us ragamuffins.

Yep, it is Thankful Thursday - and I am.

...

But then, as I bask in the relief and the freedom, I must also ask myself:  Do I extend grace to others?  Or do I expect them to perform, to behave properly?  Do I demand that they "follow the rules" - my rules even?   Do I choose to love them just the way they are - as fellow ragamuffins, the way I would hope to be loved? 

Thankful Thursday

There are some Thursdays when I feel rather thankful for a particular thing that I may choose not to share - maybe because I don't know how to articulate it or maybe because it is too personal or too special or maybe because it is not my news to share. There are other Thursdays when I feel sad about something but that something makes me feel grateful for something else - all of which again may or may not be mine to share.

There are also Thursdays when I simply feel grateful for the big picture of my life, but can't isolate any one thing. And then there are the Thursdays when I don't necessarily feel thankful - so my Thankful Thursday exercise is simply that - an exercise, a kick in the butt, a reminder that surely there is something for which to be thankful if I just take time to look for it.

I haven't figured out for sure which kind of Thursday today is. Maybe it is a hodgepodge of all of the above.

At any rate, it is Thursday and I pause to be thankful.

Sure enough, I can see several reasons I could list...

...

Ooh, ooh, and that redbud tree is even more glorious now than when I wrote about it last week. I'm thankful for that!

Redbud trees will help

One year ago we moved out of our house. The house we built when we were newlywed youngsters and lived in for 40 years. The house where our kids grew up. And some other people’s kids. And a whole bunch of foster kids. The house that at least 45 people have called home. The house with the biggest kitchen in the county where we served meals for dozens of people at a time. The house where our kids brought their friends home – from school, from church, from college. Then their friends brought friends who brought more friends…

It was home. It was our home, but it was also a place to share and a place to be healed. Not only the house, but the property with its forts and log cabins and climbing trees and campfires, has been affectionately dubbed Rivendell by some who made their way here when they desperately “needed to get underground.”

…

RIVENDELL

“That house was a perfect house,

whether you like food or sleep or storytelling or singing,

or just sitting and thinking,
or a pleasant mixture of them all.

Merely to be there was a cure
for weariness, fear and sadness.”

-J.R.R. Tolkien

…

When we started talking about moving out, we wondered how we would cope with the loss. Surely we could survive somewhere else, but would we be able to thrive? It wasn’t hard to imagine some of the things we would miss the most - certainly the solitude and beauty of this place as well as the secret doors and passageways and other personal touches built into the very structure of the house and carved into the site plan of the property. There were the evergreen trees we had planted – thousands of them – and the apple trees, and the flowering redbud trees. There was my husband’s rose garden and the waterfall he built. There was the sun garden on the hill built for me with love by my gardener sister after my cancer diagnosis. There were lilac bushes and a magnolia that were birthday gifts and there were the trails - miles and miles of trails. What a lot of beauty to leave behind.

And don't forget the winter scenes. Oh, how stunning and spectacular - and oh, how cold. Now THERE is something we didn’t mind leaving behind.

We talked about what we would need for a “sense of home” somewhere else. We thought of certain things that could maybe help us feel at home. Sure enough, throughout this first year away from that house, we’ve discovered lots of things that have helped – from my cherished wind chimes to a handmade cabinet, to a unique piece of pottery, to a certain cute little basket, to a favorite plate and matching coffee mug, to a comfy old shirt or cozy warm blanket. We have a couple small bookshelves filled with our top titles and authors and we have our favorite music downloaded on our computers. We also have the priceless stack of photo album yearbooks chock full of memories. We have hearts full of gratitude - AND we have each other.

…

It was a momentous move – and I am happy to report that we have found a sense of home – first in the teeny, tiny little bunkhouse and the old worn-out travel trailer where we camped the first few months, then at The Cove in a small fishing village on a tropical island, and now in the quaint little historical log cabin at the front of the Christmas tree farm.

We have noticed some things about ourselves and our surroundings. We have observed that beauty is one thing that helps us feel content – beauty in nature, obviously, as well as in art and music, but also in people, in culture, in relationships. Our lives have been enriched with so much beauty.

One year later, on this anniversary, I feel much more confident – because I now know that there are lots of places out there, just waiting for us – places where we can find a sense of home. There are beautiful people all over the place. And there are flowers and trees. Yep, there are palm trees and pine trees. And there are flowering redbud trees. Sure enough, there is a redbud tree just outside my window, this window by my writing spot in this new place, this place where I now feel at home. Yes, redbud trees will help.

We feel at home here - for the moment – but we look forward to more new places as soon as we can get out there. I know there are flowers and trees of all kinds - even redbud and magnolia - other places in the world. We look forward to finding other places of beauty, to meeting more beautiful people and fascinating cultures. Most of all we look forward to being together – for as long as possible – because our companionship is the biggest and best reason for feeling at home.

This first year since the big move has been amazingly wonderful.

I can only imagine the beauty waiting for us in the next year.

...and the next.

Comfort

Five-minute Friday - when we set the timer & write for five minutes
Today's word: Comfort
Ready?
Begin!

...

I like comfort. I really do. I like to be comfortable. I enjoy things that sooth my spirit or my skin or my tired achy muscles. I prefer situations of ease rather than distress. I choose to be around people who make me feel good. I protect my comfort zone fairly diligently.

Conversely I don’t like to be uncomfortable. I get grouchy or whiny when I’m uncomfortable.

Certainly it is normal to like comfort. A HUGE percentage of retail business is done because people like comfort. We buy satin sheets or thick thirsty towels – for one primary reason: comfort. We invest in good warm boots so our feet will be comfortable. Mattresses come with weird number systems to insure our comfort. We buy bigger houses and nicer cars and fancy La-Z-boy recliners and we turn up the heat or crank the AC to be more comfortable.

Is it a bad thing to value comfort? I don’t think so. Comfort can contribute to our health and well-being. If I cannot get comfortable in my bed, I don’t sleep well – thus affecting my physical and mental health. Being uncomfortable with a toothache or a headache can be a clue to seek medical attention.

But seeking comfort can become negative and selfish and self-serving. Certainly it is often tempting to put my comfort ahead of doing the right thing. Perhaps it is a matter of obedience or of priorities. Maybe it’s okay to seek comfort and to enjoy it – as long as I am not putting it ahead of loving the people in my life or doing the right thing – and as long as I am willing to set it aside when it becomes necessary or wise.

…

What speaks comfort to you?
What price would you pay for comfort?
How much comfort are you willing to give up for a good cause?

Runaway Truck Ramp - Book recommendation

I don't remember exactly how or when I was introduced to Shawn Smucker's blog, but I do remember getting excited when he started telling about a big adventure they were preparing for. He and his wife, Maile, and their four kids were setting out in a big blue bus that would be their home for the next four months. He shared many of the exciting tidbits of their preparation and departure on the blog as well as updates along the journey.

My fascination was amplified by the fact that we were trying to get free to head out on our very own adventure. Interestingly enough, it turned out that we did actually get to pull up stakes, vacate our own house and begin our journey during the same time frame as their trip. I was teased and prodded and encouraged and entertained and sometimes comforted by the experiences they were having. My husband and I learned a lot for our own adventure. When the brakes went out on the big bus as they were coming down the mountain, you'd better believe I was on the edge of my seat!

...

A few months later, their book was released - How to Use a Runaway Truck Ramp - and Other Tales from Our 10,000-mile Adventure. I had to have my own copy because these guys seemed like family by then. Again the timing was cool because I was able to take the book with me when we went overseas for the winter. How fun to read the chronicles of their adventure while in the midst of our own.

Both Shawn and Maile wrote from their individual perspectives and they included lots of great adventure quotes - all of which gave the book a rich and fascinating texture.

...

"Dreams, if they're any good, are always a little bit crazy."
- Ray Charles

"...if the level of 'crazy' determines the worth of a dream, we would soon discover that ours was pure gold."
- Maile Smucker

"Because no matter how exciting an adventure may sound during its conception, as soon as preparation begins in earnest, you realize why people are so in love with the idea of adventures and yet so rarely embark upon them."
- Shawn Smucker

...

"I started to lose it.
...
"What on earth have I gotten myself into? I believe I signed up for the adventure with children cuddling in the corners of their bunks reading books while I sat contentedly on the couch tapping my computer's keyboard in a writer's euphoria. I want a refund.
...
"There is something about 'doing what you always dreamed of' that candy-coats everything. Talk about rose-colored glasses... but then your youngest son elbows you in the face during a tantrum, knocking those lenses clean off your face, putting you face-to-face with reality: nothing, not even your dream coming true, is perfect.
...
"I hate McDonald's... But I love McDonald's indoor play land... For two sweet hours, my kids ran their little hearts out, climbing those bright blue and red tubes like a hoard of spider monkeys. And I sat cozy at a corner table tapping the keyboard in a writer's euphoria... at last."
- Maile Smucker

"You know... That's the thing about adventures. The stuff that happens isn't always easy. It's not always fun. But it's always worth telling."
- Maile

"...how could I have missed that? She was right, of course. Adventures are only adventures when it's possible for things to go horribly wrong."
- Shawn

"Now more than ever do I realize that I will never be content with a sedentary life, that I will always be haunted by thoughts of a sun-drenched elsewhere."
- Isabelle Eberhardt

"Everybody has to leave, everybody has to leave their home and come back so they can love it again for all new reasons."
- Donald Miller

"Comfort is a funny thing. We aim for it. We strive for it. We work hard to attain it. So much of what we do in life is centered around becoming comfortable... But comfort brings new problems... In the end, comfort makes us rigid and inflexible in our thinking."
- Shawn

"There is that moment in time when you know everything is about to go horribly wrong...."
- Shawn

...

"Travel is more than the seeing of sights; it is a change that goes on, deep and permanent in the ideas of living."
- Miriam Beard

"Thankfully, there are other means with which to measure a life. Ones less arbitrary than the numbers on a bank statement."
- Shawn

...

"Don't adventures ever have an end? I suppose not. Someone else always has to carry on the story."
- J.R.R. Tolkien

"So, carry on our story. Take an adventure."
- Shawn & Maile Smucker

...

I highly recommend this book. I am much more adventurous for having followed them along their journey. I am very excited to announce that the Kindle version is free today and tomorrow!