You Never Know Until You Try.
There’s a verse in the Bible that says we should rejoice and be glad in the new day the Lord has given us, but lately, though I’d like to say that I’ve felt that way, I haven’t. I’ve been trying desperately to, but I haven’t managed it in quite a long time. Each day brings more of the same: finding very few jobs that look even remotely feasible. It’s depressing to know that I’m not alone in this slow boat to nowhere. I know of someone who has said that she doesn’t really want at least 99% of the jobs she’s applying for but she knows that she has to have something. I think more of us have been there than we care to think about. May God help us all!
Trying desperately to figure a way out of this mess, I’ve been doing a lot of self-examination lately. It’s kind of what we do as one year draws to a close and another one dawns. We begin and end each year with introspection and, hopefully, prayer. Though I begin and end each day with prayer, I’ve almost always had my main prayer and Bible study time at night before going to sleep. I can think of several reasons: there just seems to be more time at night; my grandmother did it that way; and mainly because I started the practice as a teen when it became obvious that lying down at night didn’t mean that my mind got the message that it was time to sleep. That’s when it seemed that my mind was determined to do what it wanted to do, which was keep me awake thinking. It didn’t matter how much I tried to focus on relaxing and getting to sleep. It wasn’t happening. I found that praying and reading my Bible and devotional materials helped me calm the “what if’s” and “if only’s” that often tried to keep me awake.
As you can imagine, the “what if’s” and “if only’s” have gotten more frequent and insistent over this last year of post-graduation job hunting. The other day, facing another day of seemingly futile efforts to find a decent job, feeling hopeless, I found that “just” praying wasn’t calming me much. I grabbed my Bible and started reading and finally found enough peace to start the day. I didn’t get a job that day, but I found that “bookending” (is that a word?) my day with not just prayer but also with Bible reading made me feel a lot better. Duh!!!!
Putting books between bookends keeps the books upright, making their titles easier to read, and it protects them from damage. Likewise, “bookending” my day with Bible reading keeps me upright and helps protect me from Satan’s attacks. When they come, I’m much stronger and better equipped to fight. Scripture tells us that Jesus is the Alpha and Omega, beginning and end, so it makes sense to carry that into everyday life by reading the Bible in the morning and at night.
Sure, “just” praying helps, but it’s easy for prayer to turn into a meltdown session of worrying about things, telling God what I want and how unhappy I am with my situation instead of praising Him and thanking Him for countless blessings. Reading Scripture takes me more out of myself and helps me focus on Him, which is where my focus should be in the first place. Another lesson from this wilderness.
Tuesday, December 28, 2010
Tuesday, December 14, 2010
Fish or Cut Bait (Tenacity Gone Wrong)
You Never Know Until You Try.
I had a conversation with someone recently in which “fish or cut bait” came up. I don’t know how often it’s used now, but most Americans under 50 have probably heard this little saying, which means recognizing when it’s time to continue on a course of action or change course, maybe even changing the intended destination entirely. If we’re fishing for wrong thing, tenacity can be a very bad thing. If we're fishing for the right thing, tenacity is a good thing. Beyond that, I think when we’re fishing for the right thing, tenacity is a “God thing.”
Hours after the conversation, during my bedtime devotional time, I started thinking how this idea of fishing or cutting bait has recurred in my life over the last year. I’ve had to cut bait once or twice. Obviously, it’s really important for everyone to listen to God’s still, small voice and to learn from experience; for a tenacious go-getter, it’s extra important. It’s all too easy to run ahead, using human wisdom, human logic, human fear, human strength, thinking that we know the answer. The catch is that we have to be teachable, or we won’t get anywhere. God can talk until He’s blue in the face, and it won’t do any good.
We plan, God laughs, right? I don’t know that I believe that. I know the wisdom behind the notion that He laughs at our plans—it’s because He knows the beginning, middle and end, and our plans, if carried out, might yield disastrous ends. That’s why I’m so glad that He speaks to us, gently directing our steps. Rather than laughing at us, I think it’s more likely that God mourns our stubbornness or lack of faith, shaking His head in frustration when we plug along, determined to make things happen that aren’t for our good but that we’re convinced we want or have no choice but to do. Sometimes we even get caught up in the “Do something, even if it’s wrong” mentality. I hate, abhor, loathe, detest, despise being in the "wilderness." And that’s where I’ve been the last year. At least I’m not in it alone.
This last year, while fishing for a post-degree job that supports me (and I, hopefully, don’t hate), I’ve also fished for God. I’ve yelled at Him, cried to Him, begged and pleaded, studied and prayed harder than ever before. It’s been messy—messier than literally thrashing around with a shark, but I’m still fishing. I’m fishing for peace; I’m fishing for knowledge of who I really am and Who He is; I’m fishing to understand what I believe about Him and where those beliefs are tainted by my experiences and Satan’s lies regarding those experiences.
It’s never time to cut bait when we’re fishing for God, trying to know Him better. And unlike real fishing for real fish, God bends over backward to be caught. After all, He's fishing for us.
I had a conversation with someone recently in which “fish or cut bait” came up. I don’t know how often it’s used now, but most Americans under 50 have probably heard this little saying, which means recognizing when it’s time to continue on a course of action or change course, maybe even changing the intended destination entirely. If we’re fishing for wrong thing, tenacity can be a very bad thing. If we're fishing for the right thing, tenacity is a good thing. Beyond that, I think when we’re fishing for the right thing, tenacity is a “God thing.”
Hours after the conversation, during my bedtime devotional time, I started thinking how this idea of fishing or cutting bait has recurred in my life over the last year. I’ve had to cut bait once or twice. Obviously, it’s really important for everyone to listen to God’s still, small voice and to learn from experience; for a tenacious go-getter, it’s extra important. It’s all too easy to run ahead, using human wisdom, human logic, human fear, human strength, thinking that we know the answer. The catch is that we have to be teachable, or we won’t get anywhere. God can talk until He’s blue in the face, and it won’t do any good.
We plan, God laughs, right? I don’t know that I believe that. I know the wisdom behind the notion that He laughs at our plans—it’s because He knows the beginning, middle and end, and our plans, if carried out, might yield disastrous ends. That’s why I’m so glad that He speaks to us, gently directing our steps. Rather than laughing at us, I think it’s more likely that God mourns our stubbornness or lack of faith, shaking His head in frustration when we plug along, determined to make things happen that aren’t for our good but that we’re convinced we want or have no choice but to do. Sometimes we even get caught up in the “Do something, even if it’s wrong” mentality. I hate, abhor, loathe, detest, despise being in the "wilderness." And that’s where I’ve been the last year. At least I’m not in it alone.
This last year, while fishing for a post-degree job that supports me (and I, hopefully, don’t hate), I’ve also fished for God. I’ve yelled at Him, cried to Him, begged and pleaded, studied and prayed harder than ever before. It’s been messy—messier than literally thrashing around with a shark, but I’m still fishing. I’m fishing for peace; I’m fishing for knowledge of who I really am and Who He is; I’m fishing to understand what I believe about Him and where those beliefs are tainted by my experiences and Satan’s lies regarding those experiences.
It’s never time to cut bait when we’re fishing for God, trying to know Him better. And unlike real fishing for real fish, God bends over backward to be caught. After all, He's fishing for us.
Sunday, November 28, 2010
Prayer and Prejudice, and A Little Pride
You Never Know Until You Try.
I encountered someone engaging in one of my pet peeves this week. It’s something that’s rampant in our world even though we’re so inundated by politically correct language and—supposedly—behavior that we sometimes don’t even notice it. Here in America, “the land of the free,” we’re not supposed to have discrimination (or prejudice, which means the same thing, just minus the action) based on race, sex, age, weight, religious practice, and so forth, but we all know that we do. Sometimes it’s blatant, but I think most of the times it’s subtle. It’s just there, set up in our system of “the way things are done.” I repeat: institutional discrimination is subtle because it’s just understood to be the way things are. Satan is, after all, extremely subtle, as we’re told in Genesis. While I despise unfair, mindless, arbitrary prejudging, which is what prejudice is, I can muster more respect for someone who is open about his or her prejudices than sor someone who hides them. At least then I know what I’m up against.
I’ve observed so much subtle discrimination over the years that it caught me by surprise when I was on the receiving end of a blatant discriminatory practice this week, and I’ve had to remind myself that Jesus calls us to pray for those who persecute us and bless those who curse us. (Matthew 5: 44). At the time, I handled the face-to-face situation fairly well, though not as well as I would've liked. I wasn’t as bold as I wish I’d been. Later, once I was alone, Satan made sure to appeal to my pride by whispering to me that it wasn’t fair, that I deserved better than I got in the situation, and that I should go back to the people involved and really give them have a good dressing down.
My flesh really wants to do that, but I know that harsh words will just stir up trouble. What I’m doing instead is praying for the individuals—and for myself. I want to be someone who gets a point across without resorting to using Satan’s tactics. He loves to cause trouble. Maybe God wants to handle this one without my “help,” or maybe He will urge me to go back and gently address the situation again. I haven’t gotten any clear instruction beyond the one to pray for those involved in the encounter. I’m doing that. I’m praying for institutional discrimination to not be the norm, and I’m praying for everyone to fight against it when they encounter it, because it hurts everyone. It devalues people made in God’s image, and when one person suffers, the ripple effect means that we all suffer.
I think life really is like “6 Degrees of Separation.” For
example, you may not be the one denied the job because you are a 55-year-old woman of color, but your therapist’s teenaged son may encounter her in traffic as she drives home from the demeaning job interview in which she’s obviously been discounted because of her age and/or her race. She’s distracted, not driving well, and the teenager, impatient to get to his destination, passes her when he shouldn’t. Another car is coming, and boom! You get the idea.
So, I’ll keep praying for all of us caught up in this world of imperfect people who judge others based on completely arbitrary things instead of, as Dr. Martin Luther King so eloquently put it, “ . . . the content of (their) character.”
I encountered someone engaging in one of my pet peeves this week. It’s something that’s rampant in our world even though we’re so inundated by politically correct language and—supposedly—behavior that we sometimes don’t even notice it. Here in America, “the land of the free,” we’re not supposed to have discrimination (or prejudice, which means the same thing, just minus the action) based on race, sex, age, weight, religious practice, and so forth, but we all know that we do. Sometimes it’s blatant, but I think most of the times it’s subtle. It’s just there, set up in our system of “the way things are done.” I repeat: institutional discrimination is subtle because it’s just understood to be the way things are. Satan is, after all, extremely subtle, as we’re told in Genesis. While I despise unfair, mindless, arbitrary prejudging, which is what prejudice is, I can muster more respect for someone who is open about his or her prejudices than sor someone who hides them. At least then I know what I’m up against.
I’ve observed so much subtle discrimination over the years that it caught me by surprise when I was on the receiving end of a blatant discriminatory practice this week, and I’ve had to remind myself that Jesus calls us to pray for those who persecute us and bless those who curse us. (Matthew 5: 44). At the time, I handled the face-to-face situation fairly well, though not as well as I would've liked. I wasn’t as bold as I wish I’d been. Later, once I was alone, Satan made sure to appeal to my pride by whispering to me that it wasn’t fair, that I deserved better than I got in the situation, and that I should go back to the people involved and really give them have a good dressing down.
My flesh really wants to do that, but I know that harsh words will just stir up trouble. What I’m doing instead is praying for the individuals—and for myself. I want to be someone who gets a point across without resorting to using Satan’s tactics. He loves to cause trouble. Maybe God wants to handle this one without my “help,” or maybe He will urge me to go back and gently address the situation again. I haven’t gotten any clear instruction beyond the one to pray for those involved in the encounter. I’m doing that. I’m praying for institutional discrimination to not be the norm, and I’m praying for everyone to fight against it when they encounter it, because it hurts everyone. It devalues people made in God’s image, and when one person suffers, the ripple effect means that we all suffer.
I think life really is like “6 Degrees of Separation.” For
example, you may not be the one denied the job because you are a 55-year-old woman of color, but your therapist’s teenaged son may encounter her in traffic as she drives home from the demeaning job interview in which she’s obviously been discounted because of her age and/or her race. She’s distracted, not driving well, and the teenager, impatient to get to his destination, passes her when he shouldn’t. Another car is coming, and boom! You get the idea.
So, I’ll keep praying for all of us caught up in this world of imperfect people who judge others based on completely arbitrary things instead of, as Dr. Martin Luther King so eloquently put it, “ . . . the content of (their) character.”
Tuesday, November 23, 2010
Thanksgiving
You Never Know Until You Try.
We’re just a few days away from what I’ve heard called “Turkey Day.” Certainly, many of us in America traditionally consume turkey on the day officially known as “Thanksgiving Day,” but I hope turkey with all the trimmings won’t be what people focus on this Thursday. I hope everyone—religious or not, “spiritual” or not, Christian, Jew, Muslim, agnostic, whatever—will take time to focus on what they’ve got to be grateful (thankful) for. Yes, I hope everyone will realize that being “thankful” means thanking someone for the good, or at least for minimizing the bad, and really know Who that Someone is and will have a real relationship with Him. Relationships take time, and every relationship starts somewhere. Fortunately, our relationship with God starts with Him reaching out to us and not the other way around. All we have to do is accept His extended invitation. I hope everyone is open to hearing that invitation this Thanksgiving and Christmas season. It’s even better than receiving an invitation to the biggest Thanksgiving banquet ever. Actually, it is an invitation to the biggest banquet ever--the one we'll have in Heaven.
I’m sure I don’t seem very thankful sometimes. I’ve certainly been vocal, both in my blog and elsewhere, about the things in my life that I’d love to change: I’m still not working in a job that I like that actually supports me and am wondering why I went to the trouble and expense of getting a degree; I still don’t have a wonderful man to share my life with; I still hate the locality in which I live; I still drive a very old truck; my relationship with my mother still leaves a lot to be desired, yada, yada, yada.
But:
Though I’d love for most things in my life to be different, I’m thankful for the “good” and that God minimizes the “bad” while helping me through it. I have a degree, so theoretically my job prospects are brighter than if I didn’t; I like my own company and would rather be alone than be with the wrong person; at least I’ve got a home; my truck still gets me back and forth; my mother is still alive, so there’s still hope for us to have a good relationship. Etcetera, etcetera, etcetera.
The thing I’m most thankful for is that God loves me and will never leave me. Jesus promised, and He always keeps His promises.
It’s easy to focus on what we don’t like and would like (even dearly love) to change, on what’s “wrong” in our lives. We’re psychologically bent that way. It’s harder to focus on what we like and wouldn’t change, what’s “right” in our lives, but it’s worth the effort. It makes me feel better to do what the old hymn suggests and count my blessings. I can feel my muscles relax and before I know it, more often than not, I find myself crying—in repentance for my bad attitude, in gratitude for so many blessings, in humble prayer for others less fortunate than I.
I hope everyone has a blessed Thanksgiving Day and realizes how blessed they are!
We’re just a few days away from what I’ve heard called “Turkey Day.” Certainly, many of us in America traditionally consume turkey on the day officially known as “Thanksgiving Day,” but I hope turkey with all the trimmings won’t be what people focus on this Thursday. I hope everyone—religious or not, “spiritual” or not, Christian, Jew, Muslim, agnostic, whatever—will take time to focus on what they’ve got to be grateful (thankful) for. Yes, I hope everyone will realize that being “thankful” means thanking someone for the good, or at least for minimizing the bad, and really know Who that Someone is and will have a real relationship with Him. Relationships take time, and every relationship starts somewhere. Fortunately, our relationship with God starts with Him reaching out to us and not the other way around. All we have to do is accept His extended invitation. I hope everyone is open to hearing that invitation this Thanksgiving and Christmas season. It’s even better than receiving an invitation to the biggest Thanksgiving banquet ever. Actually, it is an invitation to the biggest banquet ever--the one we'll have in Heaven.
I’m sure I don’t seem very thankful sometimes. I’ve certainly been vocal, both in my blog and elsewhere, about the things in my life that I’d love to change: I’m still not working in a job that I like that actually supports me and am wondering why I went to the trouble and expense of getting a degree; I still don’t have a wonderful man to share my life with; I still hate the locality in which I live; I still drive a very old truck; my relationship with my mother still leaves a lot to be desired, yada, yada, yada.
But:
Though I’d love for most things in my life to be different, I’m thankful for the “good” and that God minimizes the “bad” while helping me through it. I have a degree, so theoretically my job prospects are brighter than if I didn’t; I like my own company and would rather be alone than be with the wrong person; at least I’ve got a home; my truck still gets me back and forth; my mother is still alive, so there’s still hope for us to have a good relationship. Etcetera, etcetera, etcetera.
The thing I’m most thankful for is that God loves me and will never leave me. Jesus promised, and He always keeps His promises.
It’s easy to focus on what we don’t like and would like (even dearly love) to change, on what’s “wrong” in our lives. We’re psychologically bent that way. It’s harder to focus on what we like and wouldn’t change, what’s “right” in our lives, but it’s worth the effort. It makes me feel better to do what the old hymn suggests and count my blessings. I can feel my muscles relax and before I know it, more often than not, I find myself crying—in repentance for my bad attitude, in gratitude for so many blessings, in humble prayer for others less fortunate than I.
I hope everyone has a blessed Thanksgiving Day and realizes how blessed they are!
Monday, November 15, 2010
Journeys and Blessings and Fatigue, Oh My! (Pt. 2)
You Never Know Until You Try.
As I noted in my last entry, I’m future-oriented and seem to prefer arrivals at desired destinations to the journeys necessary to get there. I’m currently journeying through the land of “This isn’t what I got my degree for!” and singlehood as well as dissatisfaction with several major life areas. It’s a trip I’d rather not be on, but I’m trying to make the most of it.
Since I’m not working at the fabulous career I envisioned when I returned to school, or even when I graduated nearly a year ago, I’ve been trying to do something that feeds my soul, because job hunting can suck your soul right out of you and kill it with a horribly, excruciatingly slow death. Many may think my activity of choice is a soul killer instead of a soul feeder, but I’ve done some major de-cluttering around my house. I’m super-organized, so any time my house gets messy, it drives me insane. Everyone accumulates clutter, and the last few years I’ve had little free time to keep things organized. Now, between getting rid of some things and getting the rest organized, I’ve simplified my life a bit, and I literally feel lighter.
I’m sure I’m not the only one who would love to be able to snap my fingers and make everything fall into place just as I’d like it to be, but life isn’t that way. Besides, while there are many things that wouldn’t be “hurt” by doing an instantaneous “poof” there are other things that would. Sure, if I snapped my fingers and my scrapbook was completely caught up, I wouldn’t have the extra materials lying around taking up space, but I would miss out on the joy of putting the scrapbook together. If I could wiggle my nose and “poof,” be instantly transported to a time wherein I’m married to a wonderful man, I would miss the like-no-other feeling of falling in love. What a shame that would be! We all need to be prepared emotionally and physically to move to a new situation. Body builders don’t start out lifting 300-pound weights, and babies don’t run marathons. Cheese, as a humorous television commercial tells us, has to mature, and wine supposedly gets better with age. Rome wasn’t built in a day.
While I work toward creating the life I want, I’m trying to keep in mind how gratifying it is when a long-awaited event occurs. The “reward” is even sweeter if it’s hard-earned. We appreciate it more. We just need to remember to be grateful for the blessings along the way, of which there are many. As my therapist reminds me, it’s about the journey, not the destination—even if the journey is tiring.
As I noted in my last entry, I’m future-oriented and seem to prefer arrivals at desired destinations to the journeys necessary to get there. I’m currently journeying through the land of “This isn’t what I got my degree for!” and singlehood as well as dissatisfaction with several major life areas. It’s a trip I’d rather not be on, but I’m trying to make the most of it.
Since I’m not working at the fabulous career I envisioned when I returned to school, or even when I graduated nearly a year ago, I’ve been trying to do something that feeds my soul, because job hunting can suck your soul right out of you and kill it with a horribly, excruciatingly slow death. Many may think my activity of choice is a soul killer instead of a soul feeder, but I’ve done some major de-cluttering around my house. I’m super-organized, so any time my house gets messy, it drives me insane. Everyone accumulates clutter, and the last few years I’ve had little free time to keep things organized. Now, between getting rid of some things and getting the rest organized, I’ve simplified my life a bit, and I literally feel lighter.
I’m sure I’m not the only one who would love to be able to snap my fingers and make everything fall into place just as I’d like it to be, but life isn’t that way. Besides, while there are many things that wouldn’t be “hurt” by doing an instantaneous “poof” there are other things that would. Sure, if I snapped my fingers and my scrapbook was completely caught up, I wouldn’t have the extra materials lying around taking up space, but I would miss out on the joy of putting the scrapbook together. If I could wiggle my nose and “poof,” be instantly transported to a time wherein I’m married to a wonderful man, I would miss the like-no-other feeling of falling in love. What a shame that would be! We all need to be prepared emotionally and physically to move to a new situation. Body builders don’t start out lifting 300-pound weights, and babies don’t run marathons. Cheese, as a humorous television commercial tells us, has to mature, and wine supposedly gets better with age. Rome wasn’t built in a day.
While I work toward creating the life I want, I’m trying to keep in mind how gratifying it is when a long-awaited event occurs. The “reward” is even sweeter if it’s hard-earned. We appreciate it more. We just need to remember to be grateful for the blessings along the way, of which there are many. As my therapist reminds me, it’s about the journey, not the destination—even if the journey is tiring.
Monday, November 8, 2010
Journeys and Blessings and Fatigue, Oh My! (Pt. 1)
You Never Know Until You Try.
Some journeys are fun: vacations to the mountains, beach, Disney, camping, etcetera. Some aren’t so much fun: trips to any medical professional. Likewise, thinking about some journeys can be fun and thinking about others can freak you out. I’ve heard it said that most of the time what we dread happening never happens at all and we expend tons of psychic energy needlessly, sometimes making ourselves sick in the process.
I’m currently in transition; I finished a B.A. in Communication Studies in December 2009, and now I’m looking for a job in this wonderful (not) market, having no luck, I might add. Thus, my life post-degree is very much like my life pre-degree. I still live in the same old house. (Thank the Lord I’m not one of those poor souls who got foreclosed on). I still drive the same old vehicle. (Thank God it’s still on the road). I still haven’t met someone to share my life with. (At least I like my own company).
Though things are much the same, it seems as if I’ve been in flux forever. To use military terminology, things in my life have been radically destabilized. Just since the late 1990’s, I’ve seen my first marriage break up; I married my second husband; he died; I returned to school and finished my degree; both my parents retired and they embarked on home renovations and vacations, some extended; my brother and sister-in-law broke up; I’ve lost 4 beloved pets. Add in the part-time and temporary jobs I’ve had, as well as the emotional “work” I’ve done, and you can understand why I’m tired. I’m ready for things to stabilize and settle into something a little less objectionable. Preferably a whole lot less objectionable.
As a person who’s by nature future-oriented and who has spent most of my life on a journey I've found completely objectionable, I couldn’t relate to something my therapist has said to me several times. Until recently, that is. Before the last couple months or so, whenever she said, “I don’t think it’s about the destination; I think it’s about the journey,” I wanted to scream. I think I told her so, too. She knows how disgusted and restless I’ve been, wanting my life to be vastly different than what it has been. I’ve felt bled dry—or very close to it. I’m ready for the destination! A good one, thank you very much. I’ve had several stopping places along the way that I've referred to as hell dimensions. Knowing that I had a place to go to and a certain task to do that I really didn’t want to do, I’d say, “Well, it’s time to go to hell.” Yes, I know the real hell is no joking matter, and I haven’t said what I’ve said lightly; I’ve really been tormented by some of the places and activities in my life and just had to make the best of it. Unlike the real hell, I haven’t had to endure eternal separation from God. He’s been with me the whole time, as He promised.
Many times in my life I’ve wished I could just snap my fingers or wiggle my nose, like “Samantha” on “Bewitched,” and make something happen instantly—to have the successful career in full swing; the loving mate; the debts paid in full; the extra weight gone; the ongoing pet projects completed; psychic wounds cured. Years of “stuff” “fixed” in an instant. I’m not even going to comment further on how we live in a society that values instant gratification; we’ve all heard that story many times.
It hasn’t made me enjoy waiting, journeying toward a hoped-for destination any more than I have before, but I recently got a new understanding of the journey. It really does have a purpose, and it’s not to drive me crazy (crazier). I’ve asked God, sometimes loudly, what the reason is, and I think I’ve gotten an answer. I’ve come up with some possible reasons for my looooooong journeys toward hoped-for ends. I think God has us wait for several reasons, My wait can be for a different purpose than someone else’s, but the wait, the journey, does have a purpose. God wastes nothing. We can’t say that. I’m trying to keep from wasting this time of waiting by doing what I think God wants me to do: study the Bible, pray, work on projects that have gotten left out before now, and rest without feeling guilty that I’m not buzzing about like a bee. That way, I can look on this part of my journey more as a time of blessing than as a time of fatigue.
Some journeys are fun: vacations to the mountains, beach, Disney, camping, etcetera. Some aren’t so much fun: trips to any medical professional. Likewise, thinking about some journeys can be fun and thinking about others can freak you out. I’ve heard it said that most of the time what we dread happening never happens at all and we expend tons of psychic energy needlessly, sometimes making ourselves sick in the process.
I’m currently in transition; I finished a B.A. in Communication Studies in December 2009, and now I’m looking for a job in this wonderful (not) market, having no luck, I might add. Thus, my life post-degree is very much like my life pre-degree. I still live in the same old house. (Thank the Lord I’m not one of those poor souls who got foreclosed on). I still drive the same old vehicle. (Thank God it’s still on the road). I still haven’t met someone to share my life with. (At least I like my own company).
Though things are much the same, it seems as if I’ve been in flux forever. To use military terminology, things in my life have been radically destabilized. Just since the late 1990’s, I’ve seen my first marriage break up; I married my second husband; he died; I returned to school and finished my degree; both my parents retired and they embarked on home renovations and vacations, some extended; my brother and sister-in-law broke up; I’ve lost 4 beloved pets. Add in the part-time and temporary jobs I’ve had, as well as the emotional “work” I’ve done, and you can understand why I’m tired. I’m ready for things to stabilize and settle into something a little less objectionable. Preferably a whole lot less objectionable.
As a person who’s by nature future-oriented and who has spent most of my life on a journey I've found completely objectionable, I couldn’t relate to something my therapist has said to me several times. Until recently, that is. Before the last couple months or so, whenever she said, “I don’t think it’s about the destination; I think it’s about the journey,” I wanted to scream. I think I told her so, too. She knows how disgusted and restless I’ve been, wanting my life to be vastly different than what it has been. I’ve felt bled dry—or very close to it. I’m ready for the destination! A good one, thank you very much. I’ve had several stopping places along the way that I've referred to as hell dimensions. Knowing that I had a place to go to and a certain task to do that I really didn’t want to do, I’d say, “Well, it’s time to go to hell.” Yes, I know the real hell is no joking matter, and I haven’t said what I’ve said lightly; I’ve really been tormented by some of the places and activities in my life and just had to make the best of it. Unlike the real hell, I haven’t had to endure eternal separation from God. He’s been with me the whole time, as He promised.
Many times in my life I’ve wished I could just snap my fingers or wiggle my nose, like “Samantha” on “Bewitched,” and make something happen instantly—to have the successful career in full swing; the loving mate; the debts paid in full; the extra weight gone; the ongoing pet projects completed; psychic wounds cured. Years of “stuff” “fixed” in an instant. I’m not even going to comment further on how we live in a society that values instant gratification; we’ve all heard that story many times.
It hasn’t made me enjoy waiting, journeying toward a hoped-for destination any more than I have before, but I recently got a new understanding of the journey. It really does have a purpose, and it’s not to drive me crazy (crazier). I’ve asked God, sometimes loudly, what the reason is, and I think I’ve gotten an answer. I’ve come up with some possible reasons for my looooooong journeys toward hoped-for ends. I think God has us wait for several reasons, My wait can be for a different purpose than someone else’s, but the wait, the journey, does have a purpose. God wastes nothing. We can’t say that. I’m trying to keep from wasting this time of waiting by doing what I think God wants me to do: study the Bible, pray, work on projects that have gotten left out before now, and rest without feeling guilty that I’m not buzzing about like a bee. That way, I can look on this part of my journey more as a time of blessing than as a time of fatigue.
Thursday, September 30, 2010
The Beat Of a Different Drummer
You Never Know Until You Try.
As I noted in my last post, I was looking forward to the new television season in large part because of the new Hawaii Five-O. I’m a rabid Alex O’Loughlin fan and was thrilled that he’d been picked to play “Steve McGarrett” in the new show. I loved his previous series, “Moonlight” and “3 Rivers,” but they were cancelled. “Moonlight,” in which Alex played a vampire, won a People’s Choice award for favorite new series, so I don’t know what happened, except maybe the writers’ strike that was going on at the time. I wish the powers that be had given it a little longer, because the very next year, the vampire craze hit; I’m sure “Moonlight” would still be on, riding the wave of vampire mania. Instead, Alex O’Loughlin is riding another wave, or at least heading a show set in Hawaii, where wave riding, aka surfing, is so popular.
What does all that have to do with the title of this post? I’m glad you asked. To be literal, I can talk about drums and drumming and point to the kettle drum in the amazing Hawaii Five-O theme song. More figuratively, though, is the notion of someone marching to a different drumbeat than others—having different “tastes.” “Moonlight” and “3 Rivers” aren’t the only shows I’ve liked that got cancelled; there have been many over the years. It seems that I’ve always fallen into minority status with my likes and dislikes. I’ve loved shows that weren’t the “in” shows and often hated shows that were all the rage. It has been the same with actors—I still fail to see the big deal about a male actor who’s been voted “Sexiest Man Alive.” To each her own, I guess.
Sometimes I get tired of being the salmon swimming upstream, because it can be exhausting. I’m too stubborn to cave in, though. I am who I am. Sometimes, it’s no big deal going against the “norm.” (I wonder, though, if it’s the “norm” or if the proponents of a certain position are just more vocal and visible than opponents—just a thought.) Now and then, my position on something puts me at odds with others, and I encounter verbal chiding, funny looks, or outright hostility.
The Bible declares people who follow God’s commandments to be “peculiar,” meaning “special” (I Peter 2:9; Deuteronomy 14:2, 26:18; Titus 2:14). If we love God and obey Him, we’re special to Him. It seems to me that in a world that supposedly values inclusivity, political correctness, “rights,” expressing and standing up for Christian beliefs makes you the exception to the “live and let live” philosophy bandied about. You get called “narrow-minded,” “bigoted,” or some other less-than-flattering label. You’re certainly not called “special.” It doesn’t help our case when misguided people take certain Scriptures out of context to support their hate-filled agendas. The Bible does state certain black-and-white edicts: don’t steal, etcetera, but even when Scripture clearly calls for punishment of sin, it doesn’t advocate hating the sinner. It’s quite the opposite, in fact, but it’s easy to forget that in the heat of the moment. Like I wrote in my post “Unhelpful Help,” it’s not helpful to criticize people, but it is helpful to lovingly point out another way to behave. As someone who often marches to a different drummer, I’ve been on the receiving end of both approaches. I hope it’s made me more sensitive to and respectful of my fellow marchers, no matter which drummer they’re marching to.
As I noted in my last post, I was looking forward to the new television season in large part because of the new Hawaii Five-O. I’m a rabid Alex O’Loughlin fan and was thrilled that he’d been picked to play “Steve McGarrett” in the new show. I loved his previous series, “Moonlight” and “3 Rivers,” but they were cancelled. “Moonlight,” in which Alex played a vampire, won a People’s Choice award for favorite new series, so I don’t know what happened, except maybe the writers’ strike that was going on at the time. I wish the powers that be had given it a little longer, because the very next year, the vampire craze hit; I’m sure “Moonlight” would still be on, riding the wave of vampire mania. Instead, Alex O’Loughlin is riding another wave, or at least heading a show set in Hawaii, where wave riding, aka surfing, is so popular.
What does all that have to do with the title of this post? I’m glad you asked. To be literal, I can talk about drums and drumming and point to the kettle drum in the amazing Hawaii Five-O theme song. More figuratively, though, is the notion of someone marching to a different drumbeat than others—having different “tastes.” “Moonlight” and “3 Rivers” aren’t the only shows I’ve liked that got cancelled; there have been many over the years. It seems that I’ve always fallen into minority status with my likes and dislikes. I’ve loved shows that weren’t the “in” shows and often hated shows that were all the rage. It has been the same with actors—I still fail to see the big deal about a male actor who’s been voted “Sexiest Man Alive.” To each her own, I guess.
Sometimes I get tired of being the salmon swimming upstream, because it can be exhausting. I’m too stubborn to cave in, though. I am who I am. Sometimes, it’s no big deal going against the “norm.” (I wonder, though, if it’s the “norm” or if the proponents of a certain position are just more vocal and visible than opponents—just a thought.) Now and then, my position on something puts me at odds with others, and I encounter verbal chiding, funny looks, or outright hostility.
The Bible declares people who follow God’s commandments to be “peculiar,” meaning “special” (I Peter 2:9; Deuteronomy 14:2, 26:18; Titus 2:14). If we love God and obey Him, we’re special to Him. It seems to me that in a world that supposedly values inclusivity, political correctness, “rights,” expressing and standing up for Christian beliefs makes you the exception to the “live and let live” philosophy bandied about. You get called “narrow-minded,” “bigoted,” or some other less-than-flattering label. You’re certainly not called “special.” It doesn’t help our case when misguided people take certain Scriptures out of context to support their hate-filled agendas. The Bible does state certain black-and-white edicts: don’t steal, etcetera, but even when Scripture clearly calls for punishment of sin, it doesn’t advocate hating the sinner. It’s quite the opposite, in fact, but it’s easy to forget that in the heat of the moment. Like I wrote in my post “Unhelpful Help,” it’s not helpful to criticize people, but it is helpful to lovingly point out another way to behave. As someone who often marches to a different drummer, I’ve been on the receiving end of both approaches. I hope it’s made me more sensitive to and respectful of my fellow marchers, no matter which drummer they’re marching to.
Saturday, September 25, 2010
A New Season
You Never Know Until You Try.
Like many Americans, I looked forward to the new fall television season. I especially wanted to see the Hawaii Five-0 reboot. I still love the original; it was a good show and it brings back memories of my long-dead grandmother, who adored “Steve McGarrett.” As a fan of the
original and as a huge Alex O’Loughlin fan, I was practically panting with anticipation. I watched the premiere and loved it; I hope it enjoys a long, successful run.
Amid all the new season mania this week, mine included, I started to compare the attention we give to our favorite celebrities with the attention we give to God. Do we pant for Him as ardently as we do for them? David says in Psalm 42:1, “As the hart panteth after the water brooks, so panteth my soul after thee, O God.” That’s how it should be, but is it? Maybe our souls pant for Him, but our minds are elsewhere, like on who’s headed for rehab, who has a new movie out, or who’s supposedly sleeping with whom.
We certainly have plenty of stories about celebrities—look at the grocery store check-out area, and you’ll see tabloids galore; turn on the television, and you can watch “Extra,” “Entertainment Tonight,” and a number of other shows dedicated to keeping us informed on the comings and goings of entertainers. Celebrity watching has its place, but it seems that we too often neglect to give God the same interest. We devour the latest tabloid but neglect to read the Bible lying on the shelf. Determined to miss not one single minute of a broadcast, we faithfully DVR the latest episode of some crime drama, soap opera, or reality show, but we fail to attend worship services week after week. I think most of us are guilty of these actions at one time or another.
The good thing is that God is always there, just waiting for us to show an interest in Him. Lamentations 3:22-23 tells us that God’s compassions don’t fail and are new every morning. He makes all things new (Revelation 21:5). All we have to do is ask, and He forgives our sins, heals our wounds. That’s better than even a new television season.
Like many Americans, I looked forward to the new fall television season. I especially wanted to see the Hawaii Five-0 reboot. I still love the original; it was a good show and it brings back memories of my long-dead grandmother, who adored “Steve McGarrett.” As a fan of the
original and as a huge Alex O’Loughlin fan, I was practically panting with anticipation. I watched the premiere and loved it; I hope it enjoys a long, successful run.
Amid all the new season mania this week, mine included, I started to compare the attention we give to our favorite celebrities with the attention we give to God. Do we pant for Him as ardently as we do for them? David says in Psalm 42:1, “As the hart panteth after the water brooks, so panteth my soul after thee, O God.” That’s how it should be, but is it? Maybe our souls pant for Him, but our minds are elsewhere, like on who’s headed for rehab, who has a new movie out, or who’s supposedly sleeping with whom.
We certainly have plenty of stories about celebrities—look at the grocery store check-out area, and you’ll see tabloids galore; turn on the television, and you can watch “Extra,” “Entertainment Tonight,” and a number of other shows dedicated to keeping us informed on the comings and goings of entertainers. Celebrity watching has its place, but it seems that we too often neglect to give God the same interest. We devour the latest tabloid but neglect to read the Bible lying on the shelf. Determined to miss not one single minute of a broadcast, we faithfully DVR the latest episode of some crime drama, soap opera, or reality show, but we fail to attend worship services week after week. I think most of us are guilty of these actions at one time or another.
The good thing is that God is always there, just waiting for us to show an interest in Him. Lamentations 3:22-23 tells us that God’s compassions don’t fail and are new every morning. He makes all things new (Revelation 21:5). All we have to do is ask, and He forgives our sins, heals our wounds. That’s better than even a new television season.
Thursday, September 16, 2010
Let Your Words Edify Others (Pt 3) . . . Or Unhelpful "Help"
You Never Know Until You Try.
Until recently, I hadn’t posted anything in ages, but as I noted in part 1 of “Let Your Words Edify Others,” I’ve had a good reason: I’ve been looking for a job since I graduated in December, 2009 and dealing with all the emotional ramifications that entails. I’ve been blessed with lots of people who care about me and with lots of networking opportunities, so I’ve gotten some advice along the way as I’ve navigated the waters post-graduation. Like advice of all kinds and about all subjects, some has been helpful, and some hasn’t. Some has come from well-meaning people who have no clue what being unemployed in this job market is like. Or no clue about anything other than that they’ve heard I’m looking for a job.
Some people have the mindset that “need a job” means any job, anywhere, doing anything, for any pay, even if it means depleting resources one might already have. I don’t happen to fall into that category. Drive 50 miles each way in a nearly 20-year-old gas-guzzler for $8 an hour? I don’t think so! Not when I’m a single adult with no one else to support me and no way to replace said gas-guzzler if it dies! I know no job is perfect—nothing in this fallen world is, but I firmly think a person, if he or she can afford it and after careful prayer feels God's "permission", should pass on taking just any old job if she (or he) knows it:
1. Won’t build her resume in the right direction, but sends it in the wrong direction, pigeon-holing her into the “wrong” line of work. Especially true of recent “adult” college grads like me. I think if someone had been in a fulfilling, adequately lucrative job in the first place, she wouldn’t have gone back to school. (Unless of course her industry, like textiles or tobacco, to use a North Carolina example, is a dying one or jobs are getting sent overseas. There are always exceptions.)
2. Won’t pay her bills or may even deplete her resources. (See paragraph 2).
3. Is doing something she hates so much that the mere thought of doing it saps all strength and/or hope from her mind, body, or spirit, making looking for something better a near-impossibility and avoiding being fired from the hated job a struggle of superhuman proportions.
4. Is doing something she knows she’s incapable of doing physically, even with “reasonable accommodations.” (Similar to #3).
5. Involves a schedule that won’t leave time to look or interview for a better-fitting job.
My lessons during this episode, reminders of things previously learned, have been several:
1. Keep praying and expecting the best outcome, despite how things look.
2. Keep looking—don’t give up!
3. Though I’ve had to remind myself that though some “helpers’” heads seem to be somewhere out in space—Mars, Pluto, etcetera, their hearts are in the right place. If someone offers advice, it means she cares about me enough to try to help in some way. Give her an “A” for effort.
4. I can explain what I’m looking for and my qualifications so people have enough information to make informed judgments about whether to pass a job prospect on to me.
5. If you are a square peg and try to fit yourself into a round hole, it won’t be a good fit. You can do it for a short while, but your edges, and the round hole’s, will get dinged.
6. As I note above, someone offers advice because she cares enough about me to try to help, but it’s not her responsibility to help me find a job (or a house, car, husband, dog, new dress, birthday present for Mom—you get the picture). We just owe each other Christian love.
7. Because I want my words to edify, or encourage, others, I need to think and pray before I offer someone advice or “help.” Otherwise, I may be most UNhelpful.
Until recently, I hadn’t posted anything in ages, but as I noted in part 1 of “Let Your Words Edify Others,” I’ve had a good reason: I’ve been looking for a job since I graduated in December, 2009 and dealing with all the emotional ramifications that entails. I’ve been blessed with lots of people who care about me and with lots of networking opportunities, so I’ve gotten some advice along the way as I’ve navigated the waters post-graduation. Like advice of all kinds and about all subjects, some has been helpful, and some hasn’t. Some has come from well-meaning people who have no clue what being unemployed in this job market is like. Or no clue about anything other than that they’ve heard I’m looking for a job.
Some people have the mindset that “need a job” means any job, anywhere, doing anything, for any pay, even if it means depleting resources one might already have. I don’t happen to fall into that category. Drive 50 miles each way in a nearly 20-year-old gas-guzzler for $8 an hour? I don’t think so! Not when I’m a single adult with no one else to support me and no way to replace said gas-guzzler if it dies! I know no job is perfect—nothing in this fallen world is, but I firmly think a person, if he or she can afford it and after careful prayer feels God's "permission", should pass on taking just any old job if she (or he) knows it:
1. Won’t build her resume in the right direction, but sends it in the wrong direction, pigeon-holing her into the “wrong” line of work. Especially true of recent “adult” college grads like me. I think if someone had been in a fulfilling, adequately lucrative job in the first place, she wouldn’t have gone back to school. (Unless of course her industry, like textiles or tobacco, to use a North Carolina example, is a dying one or jobs are getting sent overseas. There are always exceptions.)
2. Won’t pay her bills or may even deplete her resources. (See paragraph 2).
3. Is doing something she hates so much that the mere thought of doing it saps all strength and/or hope from her mind, body, or spirit, making looking for something better a near-impossibility and avoiding being fired from the hated job a struggle of superhuman proportions.
4. Is doing something she knows she’s incapable of doing physically, even with “reasonable accommodations.” (Similar to #3).
5. Involves a schedule that won’t leave time to look or interview for a better-fitting job.
My lessons during this episode, reminders of things previously learned, have been several:
1. Keep praying and expecting the best outcome, despite how things look.
2. Keep looking—don’t give up!
3. Though I’ve had to remind myself that though some “helpers’” heads seem to be somewhere out in space—Mars, Pluto, etcetera, their hearts are in the right place. If someone offers advice, it means she cares about me enough to try to help in some way. Give her an “A” for effort.
4. I can explain what I’m looking for and my qualifications so people have enough information to make informed judgments about whether to pass a job prospect on to me.
5. If you are a square peg and try to fit yourself into a round hole, it won’t be a good fit. You can do it for a short while, but your edges, and the round hole’s, will get dinged.
6. As I note above, someone offers advice because she cares enough about me to try to help, but it’s not her responsibility to help me find a job (or a house, car, husband, dog, new dress, birthday present for Mom—you get the picture). We just owe each other Christian love.
7. Because I want my words to edify, or encourage, others, I need to think and pray before I offer someone advice or “help.” Otherwise, I may be most UNhelpful.
Monday, September 13, 2010
Let Your Words Edify Others (Pt 2) . . . Or Unhelpful "Help"
You Never Know Until You Try.
I noted in my last post that a TV celebrity profile show was instrumental in breaking the writer’s block I’ve had the last few months. The show was, of all things, about a (recently-retired?) porn star with the initials J. J. It was the typical profile, covering her childhood, how she got into “the biz,” career highlights, and interviews with her; her friends, family and co-workers; and anti-porn activists. As a Feminist and a Christian who abhors porn’s influence, a lesson I got from that show is that God can use anything to get a message through to us.
One anti-porn interviewee was a “minister” who asserted that J. J. is hell-bound because she’s used her body committing fornication for money. J. J.’s husband noted that in addition to her many fan letters, J. J. has received hate mail from professing Christians asserting that she is going to burn in hell, and they’re glad of that fact. J. J. and her friends rebutted that she’s going to heaven because she’s a “good person.”
So what other lesson did I get from that show? You guessed it; it’s about whether words we speak edify, or encourage and lift others. Is the “help” we offer others helpful, or is it harmful? The way I see it, the words of the minister, and if J. J.’s husband gave an accurate account, the words of the professing Christians, were condemning instead of edifying, unhelpful instead of helpful.
Condemning someone is certainly not helpful. In the case of J. J., it just had the predictable result of J. and her friends dismissing the accusations as the rantings of narrow-minded extremists and led to justification as to how the accusers were wrong themselves. What would have been helpful, whether it produced immediate acceptance or not, would've been the gentle, loving presentation of the gospel of Jesus Christ.
As I understand Scripture, we’re not hell-bound because we commit one particular sin such as fornication, but we’re all sinners. (Romans 3:23—All have sinned and come short of the glory of God). The antidote for our sin is Jesus Christ’s death on the cross. (John 3:16—For God so loved the world that He gave his only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in him should not perish, but have everlasting life.). The only way to go to heaven is to accept that antidote, because being “good enough” isn’t good enough. (Isaiah 64:6— . . . all our righteousnesses are as filthy rags.). Furthermore, we shouldn’t rejoice in someone’s misfortune. (1 Corinthians 13 tells all about love.) I think going to hell, being eternally separated from God, is the worst misfortune imaginable. Having someone condemn us outright, case closed, no real explanation, is also a misfortune.
Another lesson from that broadcast was that I need to pray before I even think about approaching someone caught in sin and remember that condemning him or her will only drive a wedge between us and make it harder for him or her to listen to and really hear the gospel message. I pray that J. J., her friends and (former) co-workers—everyone in need of the gospel message, will hear this wonderful, life-changing message of love presented in love and will accept it with thanksgiving.
I noted in my last post that a TV celebrity profile show was instrumental in breaking the writer’s block I’ve had the last few months. The show was, of all things, about a (recently-retired?) porn star with the initials J. J. It was the typical profile, covering her childhood, how she got into “the biz,” career highlights, and interviews with her; her friends, family and co-workers; and anti-porn activists. As a Feminist and a Christian who abhors porn’s influence, a lesson I got from that show is that God can use anything to get a message through to us.
One anti-porn interviewee was a “minister” who asserted that J. J. is hell-bound because she’s used her body committing fornication for money. J. J.’s husband noted that in addition to her many fan letters, J. J. has received hate mail from professing Christians asserting that she is going to burn in hell, and they’re glad of that fact. J. J. and her friends rebutted that she’s going to heaven because she’s a “good person.”
So what other lesson did I get from that show? You guessed it; it’s about whether words we speak edify, or encourage and lift others. Is the “help” we offer others helpful, or is it harmful? The way I see it, the words of the minister, and if J. J.’s husband gave an accurate account, the words of the professing Christians, were condemning instead of edifying, unhelpful instead of helpful.
Condemning someone is certainly not helpful. In the case of J. J., it just had the predictable result of J. and her friends dismissing the accusations as the rantings of narrow-minded extremists and led to justification as to how the accusers were wrong themselves. What would have been helpful, whether it produced immediate acceptance or not, would've been the gentle, loving presentation of the gospel of Jesus Christ.
As I understand Scripture, we’re not hell-bound because we commit one particular sin such as fornication, but we’re all sinners. (Romans 3:23—All have sinned and come short of the glory of God). The antidote for our sin is Jesus Christ’s death on the cross. (John 3:16—For God so loved the world that He gave his only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in him should not perish, but have everlasting life.). The only way to go to heaven is to accept that antidote, because being “good enough” isn’t good enough. (Isaiah 64:6— . . . all our righteousnesses are as filthy rags.). Furthermore, we shouldn’t rejoice in someone’s misfortune. (1 Corinthians 13 tells all about love.) I think going to hell, being eternally separated from God, is the worst misfortune imaginable. Having someone condemn us outright, case closed, no real explanation, is also a misfortune.
Another lesson from that broadcast was that I need to pray before I even think about approaching someone caught in sin and remember that condemning him or her will only drive a wedge between us and make it harder for him or her to listen to and really hear the gospel message. I pray that J. J., her friends and (former) co-workers—everyone in need of the gospel message, will hear this wonderful, life-changing message of love presented in love and will accept it with thanksgiving.
Friday, September 10, 2010
Let Your Words Edify Others (Pt 1)
You Never Know Until You Try.
Praise God, I’m back! I haven’t posted because I’ve been fighting a battle with unemployment and its fallout. That’s bad enough, but there have been a few non-employment crises the last few months that have left me reeling. If I’d written before now, I may have subjected readers to more of what we’re all hearing from every corner, given the economy: anxiety, frustration, etcetera.
I’ve written stories and poetry since I learned how to write in school, and I’ve kept a journal since I was 13. I took half a dozen fiction and memoir writing classes in college, and I’ve had numerous people tell me that my writing has touched them. My heart’s desire is to use this ability God’s blessed me with to encourage and inspire others, so you can understand why I’ve been freaked out that I’ve felt unable to do more than rant. My journal entries haven’t been pretty, and since I want to encourage others, I didn’t want to write “doom and gloom” blog entries.
Then again, maybe it would’ve helped someone to read that I’ve been feeling freaked out—maybe some other middle-aged man or woman has felt adrift in a gale in a row boat and would’ve felt better reading me whine a little about my situation. As my friend “K” says, “Would you like a little cheese with that whine?” I don’t think it would’ve been helpful to anyone other than me, though; common sense has told me that I haven’t been the only one feeling like I’d have to jump like "The Shaq" to reach bottom. During this time, I’ve tried to read, listen to, and watch uplifting things, not things that illustrate how far down the tubes so many people are. I’m overjoyed when I learn some common working person has won the lottery or something. I think to myself, at least someone is getting somewhere. I don’t want to hear of someone’s misfortune—it brings me down. I know; we can respond by thinking how blessed we are compared to someone else, but it’s also way too easy to think, what if that happens to me, too? The way I see it, I’m better off minimizing my exposure to anything Satan might use against me.
During these months, my prayers have sometimes been like “Psalms, Part Two” as I, like David, have asked (am still asking), “How long, Lord?” I’ve felt about as impotent as an 80-year-old man before the invention of the “Little Blue Pill.” I’ve begged God to show me what I did that I shouldn’t have done; what I didn’t do that I should’ve done; what I said that I shouldn’t have said; what I didn’t say that I should’ve said. One friend asserted the other day that I haven’t done anything wrong; maybe, like Job, my particular situation is just one of those times of testing. Maybe that’s what’s going on with lots of people during this economic crisis. I’m glad my friends have encouraged me and stood in prayer for me when I couldn’t stand myself. (Yes, I mean that both ways it can be taken.)
Then, completely out of left field, 2 nights ago, I caught a celebrity profile show that struck a nerve. I watched some of it, and my response was a natural one—I immediately picked up paper and pen and wrote the first draft of what will be a series of blogs. No sweating blood; no “what am I going to write” feeling. It just flowed. I spent yesterday talking with those dear ones who have stood for, and with, me during this whole thing and related, tears of gratitude and relief running down my face, how something had finally “given.”
Nothing has changed financially, but I’ve got a measure of peace that I’ve literally begged God for. What took so long? One friend suggested it may be like the story in chapter 10 of The Book of Daniel where Michael came in as reinforcement in the war with the prince of the kingdom of Persia. In 1st Thessalonians Satan hindered Paul from visiting Thessalonica. The Bible is full of examples, besides the obvious one of the Israelites' 40 years in the wilderness, of breakthroughs that took a long time. Whatever the hindrance, I’m immensely glad it has been broken. I’m curious how many angels have been involved in this latest spiritual skirmish. I still wish my situation would change for the better, but I’ve got a feeling of peace, which I haven’t had in a long time. Thank You, Jesus!
Praise God, I’m back! I haven’t posted because I’ve been fighting a battle with unemployment and its fallout. That’s bad enough, but there have been a few non-employment crises the last few months that have left me reeling. If I’d written before now, I may have subjected readers to more of what we’re all hearing from every corner, given the economy: anxiety, frustration, etcetera.
I’ve written stories and poetry since I learned how to write in school, and I’ve kept a journal since I was 13. I took half a dozen fiction and memoir writing classes in college, and I’ve had numerous people tell me that my writing has touched them. My heart’s desire is to use this ability God’s blessed me with to encourage and inspire others, so you can understand why I’ve been freaked out that I’ve felt unable to do more than rant. My journal entries haven’t been pretty, and since I want to encourage others, I didn’t want to write “doom and gloom” blog entries.
Then again, maybe it would’ve helped someone to read that I’ve been feeling freaked out—maybe some other middle-aged man or woman has felt adrift in a gale in a row boat and would’ve felt better reading me whine a little about my situation. As my friend “K” says, “Would you like a little cheese with that whine?” I don’t think it would’ve been helpful to anyone other than me, though; common sense has told me that I haven’t been the only one feeling like I’d have to jump like "The Shaq" to reach bottom. During this time, I’ve tried to read, listen to, and watch uplifting things, not things that illustrate how far down the tubes so many people are. I’m overjoyed when I learn some common working person has won the lottery or something. I think to myself, at least someone is getting somewhere. I don’t want to hear of someone’s misfortune—it brings me down. I know; we can respond by thinking how blessed we are compared to someone else, but it’s also way too easy to think, what if that happens to me, too? The way I see it, I’m better off minimizing my exposure to anything Satan might use against me.
During these months, my prayers have sometimes been like “Psalms, Part Two” as I, like David, have asked (am still asking), “How long, Lord?” I’ve felt about as impotent as an 80-year-old man before the invention of the “Little Blue Pill.” I’ve begged God to show me what I did that I shouldn’t have done; what I didn’t do that I should’ve done; what I said that I shouldn’t have said; what I didn’t say that I should’ve said. One friend asserted the other day that I haven’t done anything wrong; maybe, like Job, my particular situation is just one of those times of testing. Maybe that’s what’s going on with lots of people during this economic crisis. I’m glad my friends have encouraged me and stood in prayer for me when I couldn’t stand myself. (Yes, I mean that both ways it can be taken.)
Then, completely out of left field, 2 nights ago, I caught a celebrity profile show that struck a nerve. I watched some of it, and my response was a natural one—I immediately picked up paper and pen and wrote the first draft of what will be a series of blogs. No sweating blood; no “what am I going to write” feeling. It just flowed. I spent yesterday talking with those dear ones who have stood for, and with, me during this whole thing and related, tears of gratitude and relief running down my face, how something had finally “given.”
Nothing has changed financially, but I’ve got a measure of peace that I’ve literally begged God for. What took so long? One friend suggested it may be like the story in chapter 10 of The Book of Daniel where Michael came in as reinforcement in the war with the prince of the kingdom of Persia. In 1st Thessalonians Satan hindered Paul from visiting Thessalonica. The Bible is full of examples, besides the obvious one of the Israelites' 40 years in the wilderness, of breakthroughs that took a long time. Whatever the hindrance, I’m immensely glad it has been broken. I’m curious how many angels have been involved in this latest spiritual skirmish. I still wish my situation would change for the better, but I’ve got a feeling of peace, which I haven’t had in a long time. Thank You, Jesus!
Tuesday, February 23, 2010
But I'm Only Going To Do It One Time!
You Never Know Until You Try.
Lately I've been thinking about an object lesson I used years ago when I was a daycare teacher in a Christian school. I don't remember the exact Scripture for the day, but the lesson it contained was that doing something just once can have a huge, lasting negative impact on your life as surely as doing something just once can have a huge, lasting positive impact on your life. I thought my illustrations were fitting, even though a couple of people I told about them thought they were a little violent. Maybe they were, but the kids, first through fifth graders, didn't seem to think so, and they were still talking about the lesson several years later. Besides, they all knew that I loved them and would never hurt them in any way. They always practically fell over each other in trying to be my helpers when I asked for volunteers to help with illustrations.
That day was no different. I think I called on fourth-grader M., pointed to the window, and asked, "What if I threw you out that (second story) window?" M. looked suitably shocked, and like many boys his age might, playfully put up his fists to fight, a big grin on his face. I then added, "What's wrong? I'm only going to do it one time!" He responded that he could still break his leg (or his neck) in the fall, and I drove my point home by asking, "So doing something just once can cause trouble?" M. said an emphatic, "Yeah!" I thanked him for his help and asked for the next volunteer.
In total, I called on three students to assist me, and the result was always the same--they loved the illustrations because they were silly things that they knew I'd never do: staple my head or jab a pencil into someone's ear. Each time I seriously stated, face set in earnestness, my "intention" to perform some outrageously ill-advised deed, the class erupted into a chorus of "No!", their facial expressions showing their understanding that performing the proposed action would clearly mean that I'd lost my mind. Each time, I set my face in an expression of confusion and said, holding up one finger, "But I'm only going to do it one time!"
My point most emphatically made, I talked about other activities that were more likely to come up in life, such as being tempted to try drugs, cheating on tests, drinking and driving or riding with someone who has been drinking; you get the idea. And so did my kids.
I think that's a good lesson for all of us. I try to keep it in mind when I'm contemplating something. Though we shouldn't let it paralyze us into inaction, it's something to think about. How will doing this thing, even just one time, affect me? My friends and family? Humankind? Doing something once can have a lasting impact on countless lives. Granted, the terrorists of 9/11 flew into both towers of the World Trade Center, but they only hit each tower once.
I talk a lot about never knowing for sure how something will work out until you try, and while that's true, we have to use common sense. It's one thing to try something that has potential to make our lives, and those of people around us, better; it's another to do something that we know deep down is likely to end in pain and trouble. That's not what God wants for us, anyway.
He wants us to be willing to take a leap of faith and try the big, scary, unknown something that might propel us into a new level of prosperity--be it emotional, spiritual, physical, maybe even financial. He doesn't want us to do something that will visit heartache on us or those around us, maybe for generations to come. Yet not only does He love us enough to let us use the free will He gave us, He's there ready to comfort us and help us pick up the pieces when we make a mess of things. As a smart woman who hasn't always used the smarts God gave me, I'm extremely grateful for that.
Lately I've been thinking about an object lesson I used years ago when I was a daycare teacher in a Christian school. I don't remember the exact Scripture for the day, but the lesson it contained was that doing something just once can have a huge, lasting negative impact on your life as surely as doing something just once can have a huge, lasting positive impact on your life. I thought my illustrations were fitting, even though a couple of people I told about them thought they were a little violent. Maybe they were, but the kids, first through fifth graders, didn't seem to think so, and they were still talking about the lesson several years later. Besides, they all knew that I loved them and would never hurt them in any way. They always practically fell over each other in trying to be my helpers when I asked for volunteers to help with illustrations.
That day was no different. I think I called on fourth-grader M., pointed to the window, and asked, "What if I threw you out that (second story) window?" M. looked suitably shocked, and like many boys his age might, playfully put up his fists to fight, a big grin on his face. I then added, "What's wrong? I'm only going to do it one time!" He responded that he could still break his leg (or his neck) in the fall, and I drove my point home by asking, "So doing something just once can cause trouble?" M. said an emphatic, "Yeah!" I thanked him for his help and asked for the next volunteer.
In total, I called on three students to assist me, and the result was always the same--they loved the illustrations because they were silly things that they knew I'd never do: staple my head or jab a pencil into someone's ear. Each time I seriously stated, face set in earnestness, my "intention" to perform some outrageously ill-advised deed, the class erupted into a chorus of "No!", their facial expressions showing their understanding that performing the proposed action would clearly mean that I'd lost my mind. Each time, I set my face in an expression of confusion and said, holding up one finger, "But I'm only going to do it one time!"
My point most emphatically made, I talked about other activities that were more likely to come up in life, such as being tempted to try drugs, cheating on tests, drinking and driving or riding with someone who has been drinking; you get the idea. And so did my kids.
I think that's a good lesson for all of us. I try to keep it in mind when I'm contemplating something. Though we shouldn't let it paralyze us into inaction, it's something to think about. How will doing this thing, even just one time, affect me? My friends and family? Humankind? Doing something once can have a lasting impact on countless lives. Granted, the terrorists of 9/11 flew into both towers of the World Trade Center, but they only hit each tower once.
I talk a lot about never knowing for sure how something will work out until you try, and while that's true, we have to use common sense. It's one thing to try something that has potential to make our lives, and those of people around us, better; it's another to do something that we know deep down is likely to end in pain and trouble. That's not what God wants for us, anyway.
He wants us to be willing to take a leap of faith and try the big, scary, unknown something that might propel us into a new level of prosperity--be it emotional, spiritual, physical, maybe even financial. He doesn't want us to do something that will visit heartache on us or those around us, maybe for generations to come. Yet not only does He love us enough to let us use the free will He gave us, He's there ready to comfort us and help us pick up the pieces when we make a mess of things. As a smart woman who hasn't always used the smarts God gave me, I'm extremely grateful for that.
Friday, February 19, 2010
"It Is What It Is": Cop-Out Or Acknowledgement?
You Never Know Until You Try.
I had an interesting chat with my Pastor today. Since he's a patient, compassionate listener, we talked a while when I called him to arrange a sit-down meeting to discuss some issues I've been dealing with. I highlighted a few of the things on my mind, including my frustration over my current career situation, trying to avoid sounding overly whiny or faith-less. After all, I know the Lord will work something out. I just have to be patient (Ha!) and do my part.
Over the course of the conversation, I quoted my best friend K.'s oft-repeated sentiment, "It is what it is." What I meant was that, as much as I wish things were different, they aren't, and I have to gut it out and make it to the other side of this irritating time, knowing that God is on my side and will help me through, like always.
Apparently, Pastor M. has heard "It is what it is" a lot and asked, somewhat exasperatedly I thought, just what exactly it means. He suggested that maybe it means the person saying it has just given up and is taking the easy, lazy way out rather than work to change the circumstances. Being a Pastor, I'm sure he has heard just about every problem and excuse known to humankind, so it isn't surprising that he might think that.
I was surprised, though, because it had never occurred to me that someone might use the saying as an excuse. I told Pastor M. that I'd heard that saying countless times from K. during the 3 years that her husband was struggling with employment issues. One company went out of business; several others ended up outsourcing the work, so poor T. was left unemployed--again and again. Since K. is on Disability, with T. not working regularly, their bank account dwindled and they faced the real possibility of financial ruin. (Thank God that didn't happen and T. has been working steadily at the same company for several years now.) During those dark days, K. didn't have a meltdown; she kept a positive attitude and often said, real acceptance in her voice,"It is what it is."
Unlike now, when I hear it all the time, like Pastor M., from everywhere, when K. said it, I didn't remember having heard that bit of wisdom, so it stuck with me. Analytical control freak that I am, I found that it helped me to borrow it and repeat it to myself when I got upset that some situation, despite my best efforts, wasn't changing fast enough to suit me.
I think Pastor M. understood my explanation, and I think he's probably mulled it over, as I have his "take" on the saying. I think they're both valid ways of looking at a person's use of the saying. We can quit and refuse to try again to change some situation we find objectionable, using "It is what it is" as our excuse, or we can say "It is what it is" to help pull ourselves out of the pit of frustration, anger, or even despair that we can fall into when something isn't going our way.
It sounds a lot like "The Serenity Prayer" to me:
1. Accept what we can't change ("It is what it is," so why make everyone crazy trying to change it?)
2. Have the courage to change what we can ("It is what it is," so accept that the situation is horrid, quit stewing over the unfairness of it all, and do what we can to change it, even if it means trying several methods before one works.)
3. Know the difference between number 1 and number 2. (No potty jokes here, okay? This is serious.)
4. Most importantly, ask God to give us the serenity to do so. To be serene is to be calm, at peace, not freaking out. That's not a natural state for many people--we're too "wired." But with God's help, we can be serene. Just ask my friend K.
I had an interesting chat with my Pastor today. Since he's a patient, compassionate listener, we talked a while when I called him to arrange a sit-down meeting to discuss some issues I've been dealing with. I highlighted a few of the things on my mind, including my frustration over my current career situation, trying to avoid sounding overly whiny or faith-less. After all, I know the Lord will work something out. I just have to be patient (Ha!) and do my part.
Over the course of the conversation, I quoted my best friend K.'s oft-repeated sentiment, "It is what it is." What I meant was that, as much as I wish things were different, they aren't, and I have to gut it out and make it to the other side of this irritating time, knowing that God is on my side and will help me through, like always.
Apparently, Pastor M. has heard "It is what it is" a lot and asked, somewhat exasperatedly I thought, just what exactly it means. He suggested that maybe it means the person saying it has just given up and is taking the easy, lazy way out rather than work to change the circumstances. Being a Pastor, I'm sure he has heard just about every problem and excuse known to humankind, so it isn't surprising that he might think that.
I was surprised, though, because it had never occurred to me that someone might use the saying as an excuse. I told Pastor M. that I'd heard that saying countless times from K. during the 3 years that her husband was struggling with employment issues. One company went out of business; several others ended up outsourcing the work, so poor T. was left unemployed--again and again. Since K. is on Disability, with T. not working regularly, their bank account dwindled and they faced the real possibility of financial ruin. (Thank God that didn't happen and T. has been working steadily at the same company for several years now.) During those dark days, K. didn't have a meltdown; she kept a positive attitude and often said, real acceptance in her voice,"It is what it is."
Unlike now, when I hear it all the time, like Pastor M., from everywhere, when K. said it, I didn't remember having heard that bit of wisdom, so it stuck with me. Analytical control freak that I am, I found that it helped me to borrow it and repeat it to myself when I got upset that some situation, despite my best efforts, wasn't changing fast enough to suit me.
I think Pastor M. understood my explanation, and I think he's probably mulled it over, as I have his "take" on the saying. I think they're both valid ways of looking at a person's use of the saying. We can quit and refuse to try again to change some situation we find objectionable, using "It is what it is" as our excuse, or we can say "It is what it is" to help pull ourselves out of the pit of frustration, anger, or even despair that we can fall into when something isn't going our way.
It sounds a lot like "The Serenity Prayer" to me:
1. Accept what we can't change ("It is what it is," so why make everyone crazy trying to change it?)
2. Have the courage to change what we can ("It is what it is," so accept that the situation is horrid, quit stewing over the unfairness of it all, and do what we can to change it, even if it means trying several methods before one works.)
3. Know the difference between number 1 and number 2. (No potty jokes here, okay? This is serious.)
4. Most importantly, ask God to give us the serenity to do so. To be serene is to be calm, at peace, not freaking out. That's not a natural state for many people--we're too "wired." But with God's help, we can be serene. Just ask my friend K.
Wednesday, February 17, 2010
Sift Through The Fluff
You Never Know Until You Try.
I had the kind of day anyone looking for a job sometimes encounters: I got frustrated, irritated, aggravated, agitated, alienated--you get the picture.
I really didn't feel like going to my computer class this afternoon, but I went anyway. FYI: Goodwill Industries has free computer classes available. I'm taking the one on MS Office 2007, and it has been fabulous. I came home feeling better because having the class added something positive to my day.
I called my best friend to let her know I followed up on a tip she gave me. Unfortunately, it was the bust she and I both thought it would be (a long story best left untold). I thanked her and we had a good laugh about several of the absurdities I've encountered this week. Before we hung up, she said something that really struck me for some reason. She said you've got to "sift through the fluff" to find the substance. You could also say "mine for the gold" or some other such phrase, but it all means the same thing: even if it means looking for the proverbial needle in the haystack, keep searching until you find what you're looking for.
That's what anyone looking for anything has to do. Whether it's a job, a vehicle, a house, or someone to share it all with, just keep looking until you find it.
That's what I'm doing now, even if I do get frustrated, irritated, aggravated, agitated, alienated, or any other "ated." One day my faith in a positive outcome will be vindicated.
I had the kind of day anyone looking for a job sometimes encounters: I got frustrated, irritated, aggravated, agitated, alienated--you get the picture.
I really didn't feel like going to my computer class this afternoon, but I went anyway. FYI: Goodwill Industries has free computer classes available. I'm taking the one on MS Office 2007, and it has been fabulous. I came home feeling better because having the class added something positive to my day.
I called my best friend to let her know I followed up on a tip she gave me. Unfortunately, it was the bust she and I both thought it would be (a long story best left untold). I thanked her and we had a good laugh about several of the absurdities I've encountered this week. Before we hung up, she said something that really struck me for some reason. She said you've got to "sift through the fluff" to find the substance. You could also say "mine for the gold" or some other such phrase, but it all means the same thing: even if it means looking for the proverbial needle in the haystack, keep searching until you find what you're looking for.
That's what anyone looking for anything has to do. Whether it's a job, a vehicle, a house, or someone to share it all with, just keep looking until you find it.
That's what I'm doing now, even if I do get frustrated, irritated, aggravated, agitated, alienated, or any other "ated." One day my faith in a positive outcome will be vindicated.
Monday, February 15, 2010
Valentine's Day
You Never Know Until You Try.
I was talking with a friend last Friday night and asked what his plans were for Valentine's Day. He stated that he had no plans and that furthermore every holiday is no big deal to him, just another day. He's not even 50 years old, and he's burned out on holidays.
I can understand being upset over the commercialism of the big American holidays: Easter and Christmas are about God's love for us, not presents and chocolate bunnies; Thanksgiving is about being thankful, not about stuffing ourselves, etc.
So how did I respond to my friend? I simply said, "Come on; you can show love for yourself!" I could've added that he could show his love for his parents and friends, but I felt that he was feeling a little down about his life. Maybe I was projecting my feelings onto him, but regardless, I encouraged him to do something nice for himself on Valentine's Day.
I haven't talked with him since Friday, so I don't know if he took my advice or not, but I took my own advice. I awoke with a horrible sinus headache yesterday, so I gave myself permission to stay in bed most of the day without feeling guilty. When I finally felt semi-human again around 6 pm, I made myself a balanced, from scratch, home-cooked meal and enjoyed every morsel. After I watched a little tv, I cleaned up the kitchen and had a relaxing bath before propping up on pillows to call it a day and hope my headache would be gone Monday morning.
It wasn't, but it was better. At least I'm upright now, whereas yesterday at this time I was asleep. Today I'm thinking how glad I am that I loved myself yesterday and took it easy on myself. I'm not talking about the kind of selfishness that can get everyone in trouble--putting yourself before everyone else. I'm talking about being kind to yourself, taking care of yourself, and respecting your boundaries. That means expecting others to respect them, too.
Relationships with others can be really nice, and romantic relationships can be especially rewarding. But the bottom line is that you and God are the only ones you are with all the time. That's why I try to show both of us the love we deserve.
I was talking with a friend last Friday night and asked what his plans were for Valentine's Day. He stated that he had no plans and that furthermore every holiday is no big deal to him, just another day. He's not even 50 years old, and he's burned out on holidays.
I can understand being upset over the commercialism of the big American holidays: Easter and Christmas are about God's love for us, not presents and chocolate bunnies; Thanksgiving is about being thankful, not about stuffing ourselves, etc.
So how did I respond to my friend? I simply said, "Come on; you can show love for yourself!" I could've added that he could show his love for his parents and friends, but I felt that he was feeling a little down about his life. Maybe I was projecting my feelings onto him, but regardless, I encouraged him to do something nice for himself on Valentine's Day.
I haven't talked with him since Friday, so I don't know if he took my advice or not, but I took my own advice. I awoke with a horrible sinus headache yesterday, so I gave myself permission to stay in bed most of the day without feeling guilty. When I finally felt semi-human again around 6 pm, I made myself a balanced, from scratch, home-cooked meal and enjoyed every morsel. After I watched a little tv, I cleaned up the kitchen and had a relaxing bath before propping up on pillows to call it a day and hope my headache would be gone Monday morning.
It wasn't, but it was better. At least I'm upright now, whereas yesterday at this time I was asleep. Today I'm thinking how glad I am that I loved myself yesterday and took it easy on myself. I'm not talking about the kind of selfishness that can get everyone in trouble--putting yourself before everyone else. I'm talking about being kind to yourself, taking care of yourself, and respecting your boundaries. That means expecting others to respect them, too.
Relationships with others can be really nice, and romantic relationships can be especially rewarding. But the bottom line is that you and God are the only ones you are with all the time. That's why I try to show both of us the love we deserve.
Friday, February 12, 2010
Learning Curve--Part Two
You Never Know Until You Try.
Yesterday I attended a reception honoring a friend's retirement. It was much like any other such occasion, and I imagine it started most of us to thinking as we compared ourselves to the honoree and wondered what might be said at our retirement parties.
As I sat listening to "A's" coworkers and friends praise him, I couldn't help but think of the line in the 80's movie Dirty Dancing, where "Johnny" says of "Baby" that she's taught him about the kind of person he wants to be. The same is true of my friend "A." I thought back over our 20-plus years of friendship and
what it has meant to me. My mind flew back in time to our first meeting and came forward, resurrecting those years in some ways I'd rather they had not been resurrected.
When I left the reception, I had mixed feelings: gratitude for having known such an exceptional person; a little embarrassment that during our long friendship I've been, at times,a less than exceptional person; and gratitude that I'm not what I used to be. I've grown a lot since I met "A," and he gets a lot of the credit. Don't get me wrong; I liked myself when we met. I'm just a better, more mature person now. Like everyone, I've always done the best I could at a given moment, given the circumstances. Sometimes I've failed horribly; sometimes I've succeeded fabulously.
So I entitled today's post "Learning Curve-Part Two," because I hope we all will give ourselves a learning curve and not only allow ourselves to make mistakes when we're trying new things, but to allow ourselves to make mistakes, period. Don't be so hard on yourself regarding mistakes you've made--things you said or did that you wish you hadn't, or things you didn't do or say that you wish you had. Again, I stress that no one is perfect. Even "A" has regrets. He just doesn't let them ruin his day. He learns and moves on. So should we all.
Yesterday I attended a reception honoring a friend's retirement. It was much like any other such occasion, and I imagine it started most of us to thinking as we compared ourselves to the honoree and wondered what might be said at our retirement parties.
As I sat listening to "A's" coworkers and friends praise him, I couldn't help but think of the line in the 80's movie Dirty Dancing, where "Johnny" says of "Baby" that she's taught him about the kind of person he wants to be. The same is true of my friend "A." I thought back over our 20-plus years of friendship and
what it has meant to me. My mind flew back in time to our first meeting and came forward, resurrecting those years in some ways I'd rather they had not been resurrected.
When I left the reception, I had mixed feelings: gratitude for having known such an exceptional person; a little embarrassment that during our long friendship I've been, at times,a less than exceptional person; and gratitude that I'm not what I used to be. I've grown a lot since I met "A," and he gets a lot of the credit. Don't get me wrong; I liked myself when we met. I'm just a better, more mature person now. Like everyone, I've always done the best I could at a given moment, given the circumstances. Sometimes I've failed horribly; sometimes I've succeeded fabulously.
So I entitled today's post "Learning Curve-Part Two," because I hope we all will give ourselves a learning curve and not only allow ourselves to make mistakes when we're trying new things, but to allow ourselves to make mistakes, period. Don't be so hard on yourself regarding mistakes you've made--things you said or did that you wish you hadn't, or things you didn't do or say that you wish you had. Again, I stress that no one is perfect. Even "A" has regrets. He just doesn't let them ruin his day. He learns and moves on. So should we all.
Wednesday, February 10, 2010
New Horizons: Give Yourself a Learning Curve
You Never Know Until You Try.
With all the recent changes in my life, I've been thinking a lot about what happens when we're faced with trying new things. Sometimes we have to get our courage up to even try something new. Maybe we're "Type A" people who want to do it all--and do it exceptionally. We're scared out of our minds at the prospect of looking foolish, out of control, less-than-perfect.
Guess what? We all not only start out less-than-perfect, but we're still that way when we die, too. No creature is perfect. So why let fear keep us from trying?
A baby certainly don't leave the womb, put on a suit, drive herself to a corporate office, and land billion-dollar accounts. A baby eats, sleeps, cries, burps, etc., and slowly grows and learns about life. And if you've ever watched a toddler explore her surroundings, you've seen how fearless the little darlings can be. You've heard the cliche' before: they absorb lessons like little sponges and keep trying.
We don't expect a toddler to ace a public-speaking event, complete with a dazzling PowerPoint, but we often expect ourselves to perform like pros at something we've never done before. Or we turn down opportunities that would've enriched our lives and the lives of those around us because we're scared. We forget that even the pros make mistakes. We usually give everyone but ourselves a learning curve. (Or not--maybe we're critical of everyone; that's a post for another day.)
You probably learned to walk many years ago, and I'll bet you still occasionally trip over things. I know I certainly do. I'll also bet that it doesn't keep you from walking anywhere, like on a new walking trail, from your office to a colleague's for a meeting, or from your car into a new club. I hope you also don't beat yourself up about it when you do trip on something. I know, I know; the stakes are higher depending on the circumstances. But the principle is the same--we miss out on some really great things when we worry so much about failing or looking foolish, whether we're doing something for the first time or the fifty-millionth.
That's my "sermon" for the day, and I'm preaching it to myself as well as to others, because we all succumb to the fear on occasion. When I feel it creeping up on me--driven, idealistic, perfectionistic soul that I am, I try to remember the book Who Moved My Cheese, which I highly recommend. In it is the question of what would you do if you weren't afraid.
So, as I navigate the waters of my life post-graduation: employment-seeking,etc., I'm going to try to ask myself that question and act with faith instead of letting fear hijack my actions. Put simply, I'm going to give myself a learning curve.
With all the recent changes in my life, I've been thinking a lot about what happens when we're faced with trying new things. Sometimes we have to get our courage up to even try something new. Maybe we're "Type A" people who want to do it all--and do it exceptionally. We're scared out of our minds at the prospect of looking foolish, out of control, less-than-perfect.
Guess what? We all not only start out less-than-perfect, but we're still that way when we die, too. No creature is perfect. So why let fear keep us from trying?
A baby certainly don't leave the womb, put on a suit, drive herself to a corporate office, and land billion-dollar accounts. A baby eats, sleeps, cries, burps, etc., and slowly grows and learns about life. And if you've ever watched a toddler explore her surroundings, you've seen how fearless the little darlings can be. You've heard the cliche' before: they absorb lessons like little sponges and keep trying.
We don't expect a toddler to ace a public-speaking event, complete with a dazzling PowerPoint, but we often expect ourselves to perform like pros at something we've never done before. Or we turn down opportunities that would've enriched our lives and the lives of those around us because we're scared. We forget that even the pros make mistakes. We usually give everyone but ourselves a learning curve. (Or not--maybe we're critical of everyone; that's a post for another day.)
You probably learned to walk many years ago, and I'll bet you still occasionally trip over things. I know I certainly do. I'll also bet that it doesn't keep you from walking anywhere, like on a new walking trail, from your office to a colleague's for a meeting, or from your car into a new club. I hope you also don't beat yourself up about it when you do trip on something. I know, I know; the stakes are higher depending on the circumstances. But the principle is the same--we miss out on some really great things when we worry so much about failing or looking foolish, whether we're doing something for the first time or the fifty-millionth.
That's my "sermon" for the day, and I'm preaching it to myself as well as to others, because we all succumb to the fear on occasion. When I feel it creeping up on me--driven, idealistic, perfectionistic soul that I am, I try to remember the book Who Moved My Cheese, which I highly recommend. In it is the question of what would you do if you weren't afraid.
So, as I navigate the waters of my life post-graduation: employment-seeking,etc., I'm going to try to ask myself that question and act with faith instead of letting fear hijack my actions. Put simply, I'm going to give myself a learning curve.
Monday, February 8, 2010
You Can't (Completely) Judge a Book By Its Cover
You Never Know Until You Try.
I went to a funeral yesterday. A dear man from church, Mr. R., died last week, almost 6 years to the day after my husband's death. When I went to the house Mr. R. shared with his wife of 31 years, the scene was much what I expected: lots of family members and friends had stopped by to extend condolences. I also knew that even in her grief, Mr. R's widow would be calm and upbeat. She's waged a battle with cancer for several years now and has yet to give in to self-pity.
She's a lot like my late husband, who had faith that would put most people's to shame. I wish I were more like that, but even though I trust completely trust God to have my best interests at heart, I'm still a "Type A" who worries more than I should. Like most people, I just don't like to hurt, and many of life's experiences are painful.
Before I left, I spoke with Mrs. R's daughter, "M," and told her to call me if she needed to talk. I said I know people often say that but that I meant it, partly because I've been there and know what it's like. "M" said that I've done very well these last 6 years and commented on my "strength."
I've heard that one before, and to a certain extent, it's true. I thanked "M" and said that lots of times over these 6 years, appearances have been deceiving--that I may have been holding it together on the outside, but inside I was screaming. I said that was my concern with her mom; that even though I know she's strong and has tremendous faith in God, that being human she still has normal fears and pain.
I told "M" that I've spent many hours literally yelling at God and feeling like I was losing my mind, and that it meant the world to me when people dug a little deeper, looking beneath my facade to the wounded animal inside. Those times, it helped to just talk about how angry, or scared, or lonely, or any number of negative emotions I was. "M" responded that she, too, had been like that--able to "soldier on" despite feeling like she were on the verge of "losing it."
I suspect that most people can relate. Part of it is that we don't want to seem too whiny or out of control. The great American "pull yourself up by your bootstraps" mentality. I think we're also aware that at any given time everyone has some issue going on. As much as we might want to be there for others, most of us are swimming, nearly drowning, in our own issues. Yet it's when we encounter someone willing to take time out of their lives to delve beneath our surface "I'm fine"'s and we let our guard down and really share our heartache, that we feel better. The situation may not change, but we feel less alone in the midst of it. At least that's how it's been with me.
That's the refresher lesson I had recently--look beneath the surface and try to really connect with someone in pain, because that's what means the world to me for others to do when I'm hurting. It's a cliche', but it's true: you really can't (completely) judge a book by its cover.
When I finish at the computer, I'm going to call Mrs. R. and "M" as I promised to do. Is there a phone call you need to make? Maybe you need to reach out to someone in pain, or you're in pain yourself. Either way, please pick up the phone and dial.
I went to a funeral yesterday. A dear man from church, Mr. R., died last week, almost 6 years to the day after my husband's death. When I went to the house Mr. R. shared with his wife of 31 years, the scene was much what I expected: lots of family members and friends had stopped by to extend condolences. I also knew that even in her grief, Mr. R's widow would be calm and upbeat. She's waged a battle with cancer for several years now and has yet to give in to self-pity.
She's a lot like my late husband, who had faith that would put most people's to shame. I wish I were more like that, but even though I trust completely trust God to have my best interests at heart, I'm still a "Type A" who worries more than I should. Like most people, I just don't like to hurt, and many of life's experiences are painful.
Before I left, I spoke with Mrs. R's daughter, "M," and told her to call me if she needed to talk. I said I know people often say that but that I meant it, partly because I've been there and know what it's like. "M" said that I've done very well these last 6 years and commented on my "strength."
I've heard that one before, and to a certain extent, it's true. I thanked "M" and said that lots of times over these 6 years, appearances have been deceiving--that I may have been holding it together on the outside, but inside I was screaming. I said that was my concern with her mom; that even though I know she's strong and has tremendous faith in God, that being human she still has normal fears and pain.
I told "M" that I've spent many hours literally yelling at God and feeling like I was losing my mind, and that it meant the world to me when people dug a little deeper, looking beneath my facade to the wounded animal inside. Those times, it helped to just talk about how angry, or scared, or lonely, or any number of negative emotions I was. "M" responded that she, too, had been like that--able to "soldier on" despite feeling like she were on the verge of "losing it."
I suspect that most people can relate. Part of it is that we don't want to seem too whiny or out of control. The great American "pull yourself up by your bootstraps" mentality. I think we're also aware that at any given time everyone has some issue going on. As much as we might want to be there for others, most of us are swimming, nearly drowning, in our own issues. Yet it's when we encounter someone willing to take time out of their lives to delve beneath our surface "I'm fine"'s and we let our guard down and really share our heartache, that we feel better. The situation may not change, but we feel less alone in the midst of it. At least that's how it's been with me.
That's the refresher lesson I had recently--look beneath the surface and try to really connect with someone in pain, because that's what means the world to me for others to do when I'm hurting. It's a cliche', but it's true: you really can't (completely) judge a book by its cover.
When I finish at the computer, I'm going to call Mrs. R. and "M" as I promised to do. Is there a phone call you need to make? Maybe you need to reach out to someone in pain, or you're in pain yourself. Either way, please pick up the phone and dial.
Friday, February 5, 2010
Tales of a blogging newbie
You Never Know Until You Try
Do "they" still use the term "newbie?" Regardless, that's what I am. After years of hearing people trumpet the virtues of blogging, I'm taking the plunge myself. I've kept a personal journal since I was 13, but until now, I hadn't set up my own blog.
To be honest, my lack of participation hasn't been from anything but plain old busyness--everything from personal issues to going back to school to finish my degree. That's a long story that I'll cover another time. My point is, I graduated in December with a B. A. in Communication Studies--summa cum laude, thank you very much, so I now have more time to devote to the art form known as blogging.
I'm sure entering the blogosphere will broaden my horizons. I want to learn from others and pass on the "wisdom" I've gained from my 40-something years on planet earth. We are all together in this thing called life, after all. My motto has always been "you never know until you try," so I went through the slightly confusing process of setting up my blog. I'm sure I'll tweak it as time goes on, so hang in there with me if you find the layout less than intriguing--or worse, intriguing in a bad way.
I hope you'll join me on the journey that is life.
Do "they" still use the term "newbie?" Regardless, that's what I am. After years of hearing people trumpet the virtues of blogging, I'm taking the plunge myself. I've kept a personal journal since I was 13, but until now, I hadn't set up my own blog.
To be honest, my lack of participation hasn't been from anything but plain old busyness--everything from personal issues to going back to school to finish my degree. That's a long story that I'll cover another time. My point is, I graduated in December with a B. A. in Communication Studies--summa cum laude, thank you very much, so I now have more time to devote to the art form known as blogging.
I'm sure entering the blogosphere will broaden my horizons. I want to learn from others and pass on the "wisdom" I've gained from my 40-something years on planet earth. We are all together in this thing called life, after all. My motto has always been "you never know until you try," so I went through the slightly confusing process of setting up my blog. I'm sure I'll tweak it as time goes on, so hang in there with me if you find the layout less than intriguing--or worse, intriguing in a bad way.
I hope you'll join me on the journey that is life.
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