Tag Archives: change

Purpose

“The important thing is that men should have a purpose in life. It should be something useful, something good.”
– Dalai Lama

purposeblog2I visited my grandmother in the nursing home over the weekend.  She has Alzheimer’s Disease and is, unfortunately, in the later stages.  Meaning, she has no idea who any of us are.  And while this is still heartbreaking, most of us in the family have gotten used to it.  We know what’s coming when we visit her.  We’re ready for it, and we expect it.  We’ve learned to live with it.

Unfortunately, however, she hasn’t.

One thing she kept repeating over and over again during our visit was this one same question, “What am I supposed to be doing?”

Each time she asked the question (not remembering she had just asked it seconds earlier), I would respond the same way, “You’re not supposed to be doing anything, MawMaw. Nothing at all.” And each time, she’d say, “I’m supposed to just sit here?”  I’d tell her yes, and then the cycle would repeat itself.

And then, in addition to her question, I started noticing other things around the room that seemed connected to what she was getting at.

Now, we weren’t visiting in my MawMaw’s private room.  When we arrived at the nursing home, she had been moved to the ‘day room’ for activities with the other residents (which she didn’t seem to want to participate in).  So, while visiting her, we also saw a lot of the other patients.  And while there were a variety of levels of illness (as well as a wide variety of personalities), one common theme seemed to stand out at me.  The theme that my sweet grandmother was trying to convey with that one question she kept asking me.

The search for purpose.

Take one lady for instance.  She kept pushing her little wheelchair around firmly explaining to people that they were not allowed to go certain places.  In fact, she’d block their path if they tried.  (Which in one case resulted in a kick to the leg of the other person in his wheelchair as he was simply trying to go through the doorway. Yikes!)  While little Miss Bossy Pants was an annoyance to all concerned, I started to realize that she was just appointing herself with a purpose.  A misconstrued purpose, maybe, but a purpose nonetheless.  Her job was to tell people where to go and not to go.

And this same lady at one point (when everyone was apparently in their appointed places and she had allowed herself a break from guard duty), rolled herself over to a hamper near the door and, with curiosity, opened the lid and peered in.  What she saw was a mound of dirty, used towels.  So, what does she do?  One by one (until the nurse caught and stopped her), she pulled them out, placed them neatly into her lap, and started folding them and putting them back into the hamper.

She had found a purpose. Folding laundry.

Another woman sat at her table and made bread. No, she didn’t have any flour or shortening or bowls or an oven or any of that. Not that you or I could see, anyway.  But nevertheless, she sat at her table and mixed and kneaded the dough, placed it on the table, patted it out, etc. It took me a while to figure out what she was doing, but once I did, that same thing hit me again.  She had found her purpose.  She had to bake biscuits.  And she was content in doing so.

In every person lay the same idea.  One woman chose to sing, another chose to yell at her kids (who weren’t there)…the list goes on and on.  What looks to those of us in our “right” minds as unnecessary chatter and activities, to them are anything but unnecessary.  They are, in fact, very necessary.  To their livelihood.  To their well-being.

To their sense of purpose.

Which brings me back to my MawMaw.  While sitting there, I was reminded of a quote I once heard.  I couldn’t remember it exactly, but when I got home, I looked it up.

“I am here for a purpose and that purpose is to grow into a mountain, not to shrink to a grain of sand. Henceforth will I apply ALL my efforts to become the highest mountain of all and I will strain my potential until it cries for mercy.”
– Og Mandino

Those are some powerful words there.  How much do we take our purpose for granted?  How much do we complain when we have to go to work, or when we have to drive kids here and there, or when we have yet another activity to have to show up at or to have to devote time to?  Do we ever just stop to bask in the beautiful, yet forgotten, meaning of it all?

We have a purpose.

I turned to my sweet grandmother, with all of this on my mind, and I finally had an answer for her.  The next time she asked me, “What am I supposed to be doing?,” I had her answer.

“MawMaw.  All you have to do is just let us love you.”

purposeblog1

It’s time to rest.

I know that wasn’t enough for her.  And I know she won’t remember my answer for any length of time.  But regardless of whether it seeps into her aging mind on some level, it still remains true.  No, there are no more children to take care of.  No more laundry to fold.  No more dinners to cook or beds to make or groceries to be shopped for.  My MawMaw is right – there is nothing left that she is supposed to ‘do.’  It is time for her, whether she wants to or not, to simply rest.  That’s all.  Just rest.  And to a woman who spent her life as a wife, mother of nine, step-mother to many others, and grandmother and great-grandmother to too many to count, I’m sure that’s a tough blow to take.  But whether she realizes it or not, although there are no physical activities left for her to take care of, her purpose still remains strong and true.

She’s still here because she still has a lesson to teach us.

She may not realize that, but I do.

Thank you, MawMaw.  Because you are serving your purpose, I’ll now go on to serve mine.

(And I’ll try to remember to appreciate every moment of it….)

***

“As far as we can discern, the sole purpose of human existence is to kindle a light in the darkness of mere being.”
– Carl Jung

Ripples

“When you drop a pebble into a pond, ripples spread out, changing all the water in the pool. The ripples hit the shore and rebound, bumping into one another, breaking each other apart. In some small way, the pond is never the same again.”
― Neal Shusterman

ripples

Ripples in the Pond

So, I’ve been told that I have a wide reach with this blog. More than once, I’ve had a person mention something to me about how a particular entry really affected them – and I was shocked because I didn’t even know the person was a reader at all. It makes me proud when that kind of thing happens. It’s like the quote I posted above, you know? No matter how small you think your little pebble is, the ripples will spread out in a way you may have never even imagined. How cool is that?

Well, guess what? Now, it’s your turn to drop your pebble.

I’ve decided that I’m going to bank on that ‘wide reach’ thing being true, and use my blog for something that I think is extremely important.

jay

Photo courtesy of Jay’s Facebook page

I want to tell you about my friend Jay Erwin.  Up until August of 2013, Jay was a runner. And an awesome runner at that.  In fact, he was a co-founder of the Boone Running Club – a club whose Facebook group has provided invaluable information and race info to me ever since I became a runner.  In fact, it was the basis for the Ashe Running Club page that I and a friend recently started for our area as well.  (Talk about your ripples, right?)  Jay reached out to me many times on Facebook to encourage me as a beginner runner and was very instrumental in working with me to continue moving forward to reach my running goals. And I am just one voice in the pond, so to speak.  I know there are many, many others who would tell you the same thing.

Well, now, it’s time to repay Jay.

In August of 2013, Jay was involved in an accident.  Here’s a portion of the story in Jay’s words:

” I had an accident on 8/24/13….I was cutting a tree down and it fell on me. My son who never had CPR training saw that I had no pulse or heartbeat and he gave me CPR. I believe the hand of God helped him. I was revived by my son and soon after that I was flown by helicopter to a Trauma unit in Johnson City, TN. I died two additional times on the helicopter, but came back. Surgery was administered to my spine and left shoulder. My left shoulder was completely smashed, but corrected and I had two rods inserted to stabilize my spine. I started coming around after 16 days.  I was in Johnson City for 18 days and then I was transferred to the Shepherd Center in Atlanta, GA. At the Shepherd Center I rehabbed and learned how to live again….I was at Shepherd for about 100 days and I got to come home just before Christmas…”

Wow.  Once a runner, and now Jay will never even walk again. Can you imagine?  I mean, really.  Can you?

I’m guessing probably not.  But you know what you can do?  What we can all do?

Help.

jay2

Jay and his lovely wife, Lisa

Now, obviously, none of us can turn back time.  We can’t go back and take away this accident.  We can’t give Jay his running legs back.  But what we can do is reach out to help him in this time of need.  How can we do that?

A company called Mobility Solutions is sponsoring a contest.  Three lucky winners will be chosen to receive a wheelchair-accessible van that will aid Jay and his family tremendously.  As you can imagine, their whole world has changed drastically. Getting Jay from point A to point B requires great effort.  This van would change his life in ways that those of us who just hop in our cars to go from here to there could never even begin to imagine.  And how does he win it?  Simple.

He just needs votes.

All you do is click on this link.  Register (you can register with your Facebook account if you’d like) and vote.  Vote, vote, vote.  Vote every day.  That’s all it takes!

Simple, huh?

And if you want to help even further, join Jay’s Facebook group and get tips on answering the daily “extra vote” question to gain not one, but TWO votes per day.  Jay is not in the lead, but I think that with our help, he can be.  Surely taking a few seconds out of each day to vote for this well-deserving man is something that you can do, right?

Time to toss your pebbles.  These ripples are going to mean more than you can even imagine.  In fact, let’s start a wave, people.  Shall we?

Please, please vote.  Our friend needs our help.

***
“It is one of the beautiful compensations in this life that no one can sincerely try to help another without helping himself.”
– Ralph Waldo Emerson

I Need A Muffin

“When we get too caught up in the busyness of the world, we lose connection with one another – and ourselves.” 
– Jack Kornfield

Well, if you’ve noticed, I haven’t been posting on here as much as I used to.  Things have been a bit busy.

As most of you know from previous posts, in addition to being a writer, I am also an actor with community theatre.  For the past month, I’ve actually been working on two shows at the same time.  One just wrapped up last week, and I’m currently in the last weeks of rehearsal for the next one.  In other words, it’s crunch time.

Again.

I seem to live my life in this way, I’ve noticed.  It always seems like I’m on the go.  Training for a race, rehearsing for a show, writing a novel (that’s the new one on the list).  Always busy.  Always working my butt off while inching towards something.  Never seeming to slow down.

Now, I’m not saying this is a bad thing.  As Maya Angelou is quoted as saying:

“It has been said that we need just three things in life:  Something to do, Something to look forward to, and Someone to love.”

I’m so blessed to have every single one of those things at any given moment.  Honestly, I’m just an overall happy person, with very few problems.  I forget that fact from time to time, of course (like I think we all are guilty of), but it’s always true.

However, the other day, something humorous – and important – caught my attention.  I’ve been giving it a lot of thought, so I thought I’d share it here with you.  Maybe it might mean something to you, too.  You never know.

My boyfriend Richard and our kids go to church on Sundays as often as we can.  And since the kids adore the Sunday school portion of church, Richard and I have found our way to an adult class that we have come to love as much as they do.  Our wonderful instructor, Teresa, does a sweet thing each and every Sunday morning – she bakes muffins and brings them in to share with us.  Well, word has gotten around (or maybe that wonderful smell has gotten around!) that there are muffins on the premises, and some of the kids have started wandering into our class to get themselves one or two.  And this past Sunday, one of these kids who was doing just that very thing, made quite an impression on me.

There we sat in class, engrossed in the powerful words that Teresa always has to share with us, when we heard the church bells ring signaling the end of class.  Since we weren’t quite done with our discussion, we sat for a few extra minutes sharing some final words before packing up to head out.  Once the discussion was complete, we all started fumbling for our things as Teresa walked over to open the classroom door.  She opened the door, and there stood the cutest little girl you’ve ever seen.  She just stood there, waiting quietly and patiently for the door to be open, and once it was, she made her presence known with this statement:

“I need a muffin.”

That’s all she said.  Just four little words to state her purpose.  And in she walked, got her muffin, and went about her business.

muffinWell, of course, we all laughed and laughed over that.  The hilarity behind this little girl just standing there waiting patiently for the door to open so she could state her purpose and get what she needed led to some serious giggles from the adults.  But the more I thought about it, the more I realized that there is actually a lot I could learn from that little girl.

1.  Don’t be in a hurry.   She knew the muffin would be there when the door was open, so she was patient. She didn’t bust in the room and interrupt class, no matter how much that little tummy was growling.  She just waited her turn.  She knew when muffin time would be and didn’t try to make it happen a second sooner.

2. Decide what you need, and go get it.  There was no question what Little Miss wanted.  A muffin.  And she didn’t just want it.  She needed it.  So, by gosh, she made it happen.

3. Indulge every now and then.  Ok, so muffins aren’t the healthiest things in the world?  So what!  When you need a muffin, you need a muffin.  That’s just all there is to it.  There is a time for meat and potatoes; there is a time for fruit and vegetables; and then….then there is a time for muffins.  Recognize that time and savor it.  Everything doesn’t have to be done ‘right’ all the time.  Sometimes, it’s ok to take a muffin break.  It just is.

So, there ya have it.  Some “food for thought” for us all from a little girl who needed a muffin.

*giggle*

Maybe I’m seeing too much in this?  I don’t know.  Maybe.  It wouldn’t be the first time that’s ever happened.

But then again – maybe that little girl just taught us all a few lessons that we needed to hear.  Maybe sometimes I need to sit back and take a quick break before proceeding on with the pursuit of all these goals.  Maybe sometimes I need to stop working on my novel, and throw in a short blog again now and then.  Maybe sometimes I need to stop studying my lines, and watch a TV show with my kids.  Maybe sometimes I need to stop training for a race, and just leave my GPS tracking device at home and run a few miles for fun.

You see where I’m going with that?  Eh, I don’t know.  Are you with me?  Could you use a muffin break yourself?

With that said, please excuse me.  I better wrap this blog up for the moment.  There’s something very important and yummy calling my name….

***

“The really idle man gets nowhere. The perpetually busy man does not get much further.” 
– Sir Heneage Ogilvie

 

What A Novel Idea

“I like the challenge of trying different things and wondering whether it’s going to work or whether I’m going to fall flat on my face.”
– Johnny Depp

chapteroneSo, have I mentioned that I’m writing a novel?

Finally.  After all of these years of writing poetry and essays, I finally decided to bite the bullet and give a novel a try.  I never thought I could do this.  First of all, I have never been the greatest at that whole “follow through” thing.  Oh you know how it is – you get these great big grandiose ideas in your mind, and maybe you even actually start on them, but to follow through?  Ok, I’m out.  That follow through thing takes too much work.  On to the next great idea…

You feel me?  Been there yourself?  Oh yeah – when it comes to follow through, jumping ship has always been my superpower.

And another reason I’ve been hesitant to write a novel?  Well, I’m not exactly a ‘fiction’ writer.  Most everything I’ve written over the years has just been observations of the world around me, not something that I  made up in my mind.  Yes, yes, I know all books don’t have to be fiction.  There are plenty of great non-fiction books out there in the world.  But something I came across once in some “how to be a writer” article or another was this piece of advice that I’ve never forgotten.  It said that there is something important that you need to remember when you are ready to take on the challenge of writing a novel.

“Write something that you would like to read.”

Although at first glance that seems pretty obvious, there’s actually much more wisdom to that than you might think.  While I have always written poetry and essays, when I go to a bookstore, are the poetry and essay books the first ones I head to?  Nope.  I like novels.  Fiction.  I love them.  I eat them up.  I love the ones about family connections, the ones about mysteries, the ones with a strong, likeable heroine as the main character….all that stuff.

So, why am I not writing that?

Well, other than the reasons I’ve mentioned before, there’s also the big reason.  The reason that we all have whenever we’re afraid to rise to any challenge in our lives.  What’s that reason, you ask?  Well, I think you know.

I’m afraid I’ll fail.

What if I spend all this time writing a fiction novel…and it blows?  You know?  I mean, it’s highly likely for that to be the case.  I’m not a novelist.  I’m a beginner.  It may never get read by anyone except my boyfriend Richard.  (You know he’ll be forced to read it. I’m sure he already thinks I’m a little crazy for talking about these characters as if they were real people as it is…)  It may never get published and may just remain a pile of words sitting on a computer hard drive somewhere for the rest of my life.

Or.

Or…maybe someone will like it.  Maybe it will get published.  And read.  And (as is the most important thing to me…), identified with.  Wouldn’t that be awesome?

Eh.  Either way.  It’s time to try, right?

I compare it to when I first started running.  I remember the absolute glee I felt the first time I ran one mile without stopping.  (Quotes?)  And then the first time I ran an actual 5K.  (Poetry?)  And then the pride and accomplishment I felt when I ran my first half marathon.  (Essays?).  Well, now it’s time to rise to the challenge and take it a step further.  Just as I never thought I’d be able to get this far with my running, I also thought I’d never get this far with my writing.  I have an essay published in Chicken Soup for the Soul, for Heaven’s sakes!  That’s a big deal.  And I’ve ran not one, but two half marathons.  The lesson to be learned is that I can do things that I never thought possible.

Maybe it’s time to step up my game?

So here’s to the future.  Here’s to a finished novel (good or bad) and to a full marathon one of these days.  It doesn’t have to be the best – it just has to get done.  It just has to.

Bucket list, make room.  A few more things are about to join the ranks…

***

“I want to challenge you today to get out of your comfort zone.  You have so much incredible potential on the inside.  God has put gifts and talents in you that you probably don’t know anything about.”
– Joel Osteen

#tbt Poetry – Forgotten Mistress

“A poet is, before anything else, a person who is passionately in love with language.”
– W. H. Auden
I see everyone posting these “Throwback Thursday” photos on Facebook, so I have decided to do my own little blog version of it.  Every Thursday, I plan to post an old poem that I wrote, together with the approximate year it was written.  I used to write a lot of poetry back in the day (not great poetry, mind you) before I started writing the essay/short story style writings that I now prefer.  So, let’s dig out some of this old stuff and broadcast that old undeveloped talent, shall we? 😉

First up, is Forgotten Mistress.  Written in 2003.

Forgotten Mistress

I am looking in the window-
Standing on tiptoe to see-
Watching the life go on inside
The life that doesn’t include me

I see the family that loves him
Who will always welcome him home
I see the good times that abound
As I stand here all alone.

I wonder, Does he see me
Out of the corner of his eye?
Am I included in his vision
As the walls keep me outside?

Am I the secret no one mentions-
The dirty reminder of a fall?
Or have I already been forgotten
Not even thought about at all?

I know that I should turn away
From this sight I cannot bear to see
From watching the life go on inside
The life that doesn’t include me.

But yet, I stand here waiting
For that invitation I will never receive
And I’ll remain outside this window
Until I can find the strength to leave.

mistress

Story about a Dog

“We fear things in proportion to our ignorance of them.”
–  Christian Nestell Bovee

I want to tell you a story about a dog.

LUCY2And it’s not just any dog, mind you.  I’d like you to meet my boyfriend Richard’s sweet little german shepherd, Lucy.  Isn’t she the cutest little booger?  So incredibly sweet.  So lovable.  So happy.  And so…*ahhem*…um, how shall I say this?…unintelligent?  Heh.  Bless her sweet little heart, she’s not exactly the brightest bulb in the box.  But she sure makes up for it in sweetness though, that’s for sure.  Well, I have a story about one of Lucy’s recent…let’s just say mental lapses…that I thought was pretty interesting.

Now Lucy is a little over a year old and, all her life, has been taught that she is NOT to come in the house.  She’s an outside dog, and that’s always been perfectly fine with her.  Well….now here we are faced with this awful winter we’ve been having, so we decided to try to bend the rules a little.  With sub-zero temps and wind chills to boot, it was time to let Lucy in the house.

Heh.  WRONG.

Lucy was having NONE of that.  You don’t teach a dog not to come in the house and then invite them in.  No way, not Miss Lucy.  Her daddy said a long time ago that she wasn’t supposed to be in the house and that was that, by gosh.  We cajoled, we pushed, we pulled, we begged…but she wasn’t budging.

So, on to Plan B.

Richard, being the sweetheart that he is, decided that he couldn’t bear knowing that all she was going to have as shelter would be a drafty garage.  Yes, it would block the worst of the wind, but it still wasn’t all that toasty in there.  So, he rigged up a little space heater for her right next to her dog bed.  That way, she would at least feel the heat from it as long as she stayed in her bed for the night.  Problem solved.  We’re going on a few months of this space heater warmth for Lucy on these cold winter nights and all has been working just fine, thank you.

Until yesterday, that is.

*sigh*

Now, I mentioned that Lucy is a sweet little thing right?  Sooooo sweet.  Smart?  Eh.  Notsomuch.

I left early in the morning for work and Richard was close behind.   We both had very long days yesterday, consisting of real estate work here and there and followed up by rehearsal (for me) and sound work (for him) at the theatre until late in the evening.  And then, after topping the night off with a quick bite to eat and a glass of wine or two at our favorite restaurant, we finally made our way back home.  And what did we find when we got there?

Lucy.  In the garage.

Stuck.

And by “stuck,” let me explain.  This space heater that I described to you is a long, low-to-the-ground type.  It resembles a baseboard heater somewhat.  Before Richard had left for the day, he went into the garage through the open door (on the opposite side of the heater) and Lucy had followed him in.  As he was leaving, he shut the garage door behind him with Lucy still inside, knowing that it was ok to do so since Lucy could easily go out the side door that we always keep open for her.  Well, what he didn’t realize, was that the heater (which was not on, by the way) had been pushed to the side just slightly and was now…um…”blocking” Lucy’s path to the side door.

Now, I mentioned this heater is low to the ground, right?  And by low to the ground, I mean probably 6 inches.  Tops.  So this 6-inch tall non-functioning space heater stood between Lucy and the side door of freedom.

It took us a minute to realize what the problem was once we got home.  I was the first to arrive and was shocked that Lucy didn’t come flying to me with her tail flapping as she always does.  I heard her whining in the garage, but she wouldn’t come to me.  I walked a little further in and saw that she was just standing there.  That’s it.  Just standing there looking at me.  (And crying, the poor little thing.)

So, I called to her.  “Come here, Lucy.  Come here, girl.”

Still.  Nothing.

That’s when I realized that she was refusing to step across the little heater.  I walked over and simply pushed the heater a few inches to the side, and let me tell you – you would not believe the happiness that burst forth from that sweet little dog.  She bolted out of that garage, went straight to the yard to ‘take care of some overdue business,’ and then came bounding back to me for her “Hello, I’m glad you’re home, I love you, I love you, I love you” kisses.

When Richard got home, we laughed about that silly dog being “stuck” in the garage, all because she refused to step across the heater.  But then the more we talked about it, the more we realized that, although the heater wasn’t hot at the moment, Lucy must have learned (the hard way, I’m guessing) that that heater could be hot.  So, she figured it was best to play it safe.  Even if it meant imprisonment.

Now, you guys realize I’m a writer right?  And one thing I’ve noticed about we writers…we simply cannot see a situation in only a literal sense.  Oh no – there is always a deeper meaning to just about everything.  This time was no exception.

I thought about poor sweet Lucy and wondered how many times I’ve done that myself.  How many times have I chosen imprisonment and sacrificed my freedom, simply because I was afraid to attempt something that may have hurt me in the past?  And how many times was that thing that I thought was going to hurt me, simply just there for my benefit and not going to hurt me at all?  And how many times have I, due to being ignorant to the harmlessness of the obstacle (simply because I was not willing to test it out), therefore remained in the tiny, lonely, confined space of my own making?

And while we’re on the subject – how many times have you done that?

Pretty dumb, isn’t it?

So, yes, maybe this was just one instance of a not-so-smart doggy getting stuck in a garage behind a heater.  Or…

Or.

Maybe this was one of those lessons that life puts in front of you all of the time…if you’ll just take a moment to stop and notice it.

I don’t know about you, but I sure do know that Lucy was pretty darn happy to be free.  Maybe you should give freedom a try yourself.

LUCY1

***

“Ultimately we know deeply that the other side of every fear is freedom.”
– Marilyn Ferguson

V-Day Giveaway

“A bell is no bell ’til you ring it,
A song is no song ’til you sing it,
And love in your heart
Wasn’t put there to stay –
Love isn’t love
‘Til you give it away.”
~Oscar Hammerstein, Sound of Music, “You Are Sixteen (Reprise)”

Ahhhh.  ‘Tis the season for romance, right?  Chocolate hearts, teddy bears, lovey-dovey sweet nothings….

Blech.

I know, I know…I’m very happily in love and should be happy about Valentine’s Day, right?  Well, I am happy that I’m in a relationship with such a wonderful, amazing man.  Don’t get me wrong.  But the idea that it should all be centered around one day?  Eh.  Pardon my French here, but I just think that’s a bunch of BS.

And besides, I haven’t always been deliriously happy on Valentine’s Day.  As some of you may remember, this wasn’t the case for me last year.  Richard and I had split up.  (And, believe me, Richard just loooooves when I bring this up….).  I wrote a blog (a year ago today actually) about how I had attempted to see Valentine’s Day in a different light that year.  And it worked for a while.  It really did.  But then, a few days later, you’ll see the blog I wrote on the day after Valentine’s Day.  (Aptly titled “The Day After Valentine’s Day…” Man, I was creative back in the old days…)  I had psyched myself to get through that day, and then felt the sadness all over again once it was over.

So, again, yes, I am much much happier this year.  I’m so grateful that Richard and I made it through the hurt and sadness and found our way back to each other.  But regardless of my status this or any year, I still hate the thought of the turmoil that Valentine’s Day puts people through.  I know many people who are recently single who are bracing themselves for the dreaded V-Day just as I had to do last year.  And why is that?  Isn’t every day hard enough on the brokenhearted as it is without having to rub their faces in it once a year?  And if you’re not amongst the brokenhearted and are in a loving relationship now like I am, should you really need one particular day a year to remind you to be good to the one you love?  And do you really need to be pressured into buying expensive gifts to prove said love?

Well, I certainly don’t think so.

So…with that rant out of the way…let’s get to the point of this particular blog.  I decided that maybe I should do a Valentine’s Day give-away of the Chicken Soup for the Soul book that my story is in.  While, yes, it is a book filled with happy love stories, it’s also a book filled with real love stories.  And some of them, just like real life, don’t necessarily have such happy endings.  The book is divided into subject headings and one of them is entitled “Let’s Forget this Ever Happened.”  Another is called “It’s Not Me, It’s You” and contains a story called “Worst Date Ever.”  Anyway, you catch my drift right?  These stories are real.  And I think it’s important for us all to remember that there are a variety of “statuses” out there on stupid stinky ole Valentine’s Day.  If you’re not one of the ones in a happy relationship, don’t sweat it.  When we’re in a place of sadness, it’s easy to get it into our head that we’re the only one feeling this way.  That everyone out there has a partner and we’re the only one who is alone.  Well, you’re not alone.  Ever.  And here’s how I want to show you that.

If you read this blog, I want you to comment below.  (If you’re reading this on Facebook, you’re welcome to comment there too if you can’t figure out how to comment on the actual blog site).  I want you to tell me what your relationship status is, and how you plan to ‘celebrate’ Valentine’s Day.  And I want all the stories.  From the good to the bad to the ugly.  If you’re happily in love and plan the sweetest V-Day on the planet, go ahead and tell us about it.  We’ll try not to gag.  And if you’re miserable and hateful and spiteful and grumpy – I want to hear your thoughts too.  Really.

Why am I doing this?  I want people to read the variety of answers that I hope to get.  I want people to see that in the answers to this question, there probably lies someone out there in the same position you’re in…as is always the case, no matter the circumstance.  We are just never ever alone.  Really.  We’re not.  Will my plan work?  Eh, I don’t know.  But I’m willing to bet that if people participate, it’s at least going to be entertaining to read, don’t ya think!?  And keep in mind, I don’t want an essay or anything.  Just one sentence will do.  Whether it’s “I’m single and I plan to curl in a ball and cry into the wee hours of the morn,” or “I’m deliriously in love and plan to chronicle ever single moment of my dinner/dancing/smooching lovefest on Facebook for all the world to see,” we want to read them all.  Well.  Sort of.  😉

Chicken Soup Dating GameAnd, then, on the dreaded V-Day, I will put all of the commenters names in a hat (or bowl or scattered all the floor, whatever) and I will draw a name at random at 3:00 p.m. and will send the winner an autographed copy of Chicken Soup for the Soul: The Dating Game.  Check back here on my blog for the winner’s name and instructions on how to claim your prize.  If you’ve already purchased a book from me, enter anyway!  You can give it as a gift, maybe even with a copy of this blog so they know why you’re giving it to them.  Or, you may even opt to participate but not accept the prize and allow me to draw another name.  Either way – you’re a winner.  Right?  Let’s spread the love, people.  (And if I wasn’t a struggling, broke wannabe writer, I’d give you something better than a book, but hey – you can only give what ya got, right?…)

So.  We good?  You understand the rules?  Ok, then.  Let’s do this.  Ready, set….comment.

Seriously.  Show someone they’re not alone this Valentine’s Day.  That may just be all one person out there needs to know.

***

“If you have only one smile in you, give it to the people you love.”
– Maya Angelou

God’s Will?

godbird3

Ok, so since my Jesus post from a few weeks ago didn’t get me stoned, I’m gonna try this one out and see what happens.

I have a friend on Facebook who recently posted about the fact that he has battled and defeated many addictions throughout the course of his life, ranging from alcohol to food.  He made a blanket statement about how he was surprised at the fact that he had gotten through those trials, because he doesn’t feel like he has very much willpower.  So, as is par for the course with Facebook, the comments started rolling in.  And amid many of the well-intentioned comments, there seemed to exist the same theme.

“That’s because it wasn’t you, it was God’s work.”

“It was God’s will that you made it through.”

“God did it.”

*sigh*

Ok.  Get your stones ready.

Every single time I see comments like this, I shudder a little.  I’ve never really understood why that is.  Like I’ve mentioned in the past, I’m not the most religious person on the planet.  But I do believe there’s a God.  I do.  So, why does it bother me when I hear stuff like that?  Shouldn’t it make me feel good?  Strengthen my belief in the God that I believe in?

Well, this particular instance got me to thinking about this very thing.  I dug a little deeper into why those statements bother me so much, and this blog is about what I came up with.  Will you agree with me?  I don’t know.  It doesn’t matter, really.  When it comes to religion, politics, and all that other good controversial stuff, it’s rare to find two people who truly see eye-to-eye on it all.  And that’s ok.  But I’m going to share my viewpoint with you anyway.

I started this blog with a picture/quote by J. G. Holland that says “God gives every bird its food, but he does not throw it into its nest.” (And I can’t even begin to tell you how long it took to find one with the correct usage of its/it’s.  Phew!  I finally gave up and made my own.  Sheesh!  But, hey, that’s a blog for another day.  Back to the story….)  To be quite honest with you, I think that quote stands alone and says about all that I need to say.  Thank you, Mr. Holland.  But let me elaborate a little more anyway, because that’s what I do.

To me, what this quote is saying is that yes, the answers to our problems are out there.  They’re available to us.  God’s not gonna leave us hanging.  Like He says in Jeremiah 29:11 “For I know the plans I have for you, declares the Lord, plans to prosper you and not to harm you…”  I firmly believe that the God I believe in is not one who is going to toss some bad things our way and watch us suffer with no way out.  In fact, I don’t believe He is the one who throws bad things our way at all.  Life does that.  But regardless, there is going to be a way out of them.

But, see, here’s the thing.  It’s not going to happen until we get off our butts and do something to make it happen.  It’s not going to magically appear.

So, when people make such comments as “It was God’s will,” or “God did it,” I just can’t bring myself to believe that.  God may be the one who provided the answer (i.e. the “food for the birds”), but I don’t believe He is the one who made it happen (i.e. “dropped it in its mouth”).  In the case of my Facebook friend here, God did not stick down his big hand and physically turn my friend away from those addictions.  My friend did that.  He made the choice to turn away from those addictions and do the legwork that it took to break those bad habits.  And does he deserve the credit?  You bet he does.

annie2I compare this to when my own child got the chance to play the lead role in our local production of Annie.  Was I proud of her?  Holy crap, you bet I was.  But did I take the credit for her performance?  Of course not.  I may have helped her along the way.  I may have advised her, encouraged her, and supported her.  But did I do it for her?  Of course, I didn’t.  And if someone claimed as much, I’d probably be offended that they were focused on me and not giving her the credit she deserved.

I don’t think God feels much differently about His children as I do about mine.  Do you?

Why are we so scared of being proud of ourselves?  Or of allowing someone else to feel the pride that they deserve to feel?

I know we’ve all heard the saying “Pride goeth before a fall.”  Maybe that’s where this unfounded fear comes from.  But what you probably didn’t know is that this term is actually a shortened version of the verse found in Proverbs 16:18 that says: “Pride goeth before destruction, and a haughty spirit before a fall.”  When you look at that term in its entirety, as it is fully stated in the proverb, the “pride” it’s referring to is not the pride that comes from feeling as if you’ve done something good.  Merriam-Webster’s dictionary defines “pride” in two ways:

  1. Pride:  a feeling that you are more important and better than other people; and
  2. Pride:  a feeling of happiness that you get when you or someone you know does something good, difficult, etc.

That first definition is what that verse is referring to.  Not the second.  Pride is a feeling of happiness.  Don’t you think God wants us to be happy?  There is nothing wrong with feeling proud of yourself.  Nothing.  And, on that same token, there’s nothing wrong with encouraging people to feel that pride in themselves.  They worked hard; they deserve it.  And the crazy thing is that the more pride you feel in yourself, the more likely you’ll be to keep going.  Whether it’s fighting an addiction, working to better yourself physically, or maybe even…oh, I don’t know…writing?  When someone recognizes your abilities and your talents, it really is ok to accept that recognition and bask in the glow of a job well done.  Besides, you never know who you might be inspiring in the process.

So, hey.  Maybe that might be something for you to think about the next time you innocently tell someone that it was God’s will when something good happens.  Don’t negate what they have done by telling them that they didn’t do it.  And don’t make the others out there who haven’t had such good fortune wonder why God isn’t on their side too.  It’s just silly.  Recognize them for the good that they have done, and congratulate them for it.  They worked hard for it, whether they realize it or not, and they deserve to feel pride in themselves for what they’ve accomplished.  And if you’re one of those people who deflect the compliments in that same manner?  Maybe you should work on not doing that anymore.  Yes, maybe God provided support and encouragement along the way, much like I did for my daughter as she found her way to playing the role of Annie, but I certainly didn’t pick her up and place her on that stage.  Recognize your own efforts and applaud them.

And you know what?  I’d be willing to bet that God is pretty darn proud of you, too.

***

“Calm self-confidence is as far from conceit as the desire to earn a decent living is remote from greed.”
– Channing Pollock

Brandy

“A sister can be seen as someone who is both ourselves and very much not ourselves – a special kind of double.”
– Toni Morrison

Have I ever mentioned that I have an 11-year-old sister?

Yep, it’s true.  My teenage children have an 11-year-old Aunt Brandy.  I know, crazy, right?  (And you better believe she tries to use that fact when they’re arguing over something…”You HAVE to listen to me, I’m your aunt!”…)

familysibsNow, Brandy’s not my only sister, mind you.  I’m actually the oldest of a clan of six.  My mom and dad split when I was just a baby, so I’m the only biological child they had.  But then my mom remarried and had my three sisters and one brother.  My dad, on the other hand, didn’t get around to having any more children until much later in life when Brandy came along, so now he is the proud father of two daughters….24 years apart!

Well, recently I’ve started to notice something.  I’m thinking this whole ‘writing’ thing may have come from my dad’s side of the family.  Because that little 11-year-old has some seriously mad skills with the written word.

Here, let me show you something.

Sleepless

No dreams. No rest. No nothing. Night after night of restlessness. Night turns into day, and day into night. Over and over again. No sleep. Sleepless.

I lay awake on a cold, rainy night. Looking out the window and seeing all the lights off I think “Ah. So many people can get sleep. But, why can’t I?” The windows are as cold as ice. Touching the window made my fingers numb. But, I still feel that lifeless cold against my fingers as I look out into the darkness. No sleep. None.

Sleep well, my friends. Because there are those who are sleepless night after night…

Umm…hello!?  Did I mention she’s ELEVEN YEARS OLD?  Look out, missyspublicjunk, I think brandysbetteratthisthanmissy is on your tail!

Or, how about this one?

Hard To Love

Have you ever felt like you can’t be loved or you can’t love anyone? Truth is, everyone in some way is hard to love.

Maybe it’s that little anger issue you have. Or you cry so easily that your friends tease you over it. It could be that you won “Miss Drama Queen Of The Year.” You could like nerds and geeks. You could have likes and dislikes far bizarre than others’. You might put up a wall between you and other people. And there’s still over millions of other things that make people hard to love! But we all are human beings. We have our flaws. We are who we are. You should be proud of yourself for all that you’ve done!

So next time when you feel unloved, remember, you’re not the only one. EVERYONE is hard to love.

Again.  ELEVEN.

How about this line from a poem she wrote entitled “I Am From”:

“I am from darkness, with pieces of heaven falling down…”

I am just absolutely blown away at the talent this little girl possesses.  I wonder if she knows that?  I’ve told her so, but I wonder if she really knows it, you know?

My dad told me that she has been reading my blog.  He thinks that seeing what I have written has influenced and encouraged her to write.  Wow.  How proud I am to have influenced something so great.

mebranSee, I used to be eleven, too.  I used to sit in my room writing feverishly in my little trapper keeper.  Poems, stories, journal entries.  You name it, I wrote it.  And I didn’t show anyone.  What if they didn’t like it?  What if they made fun of me?  But not this 11-year-old.  This girl is putting her writing out there for the world to see.  Thank goodness she has that kind of courage.  It took me over 30 years to find it.

This girl is going to go places.  And I hope she knows how proud of her I am.

Thanks for letting me take the time to brag on my little sis.

***

“A sister is a little bit of childhood that can never be lost.”
– Marion C. Garretty

Jesus

jesus

Yep.  That’s the one.  You did, in fact, read that title right.  This blog is about Jesus.

Now, don’t worry.  If you’re not religious, I’m not going to preach at ya here.  Believe me, I’m the last one to do that.  I’m not sure I fall in the ‘religious’ category myself (whatever that word means…).  To be honest, I’m not sure what I believe at all, so I’m sure as heck not going to tell you what to believe.  I just want to tell you about something that caught my attention yesterday.  And maybe, just maybe, it might mean something to you, too.

First, a little background.

I was raised in a Baptist church.  Southern Baptist at that.  For most of you, no further explanation is needed here.  For the rest of you:  let’s just say that it is thoroughly ingrained in my brain that pretty much everything I do is going to send me straight to Hell.  And with that being the case, it’s also ingrained in my brain that I better have my heathen butt in church every Sunday morning in order to atone for everything I’ve done throughout the week, and to plead and beg for the Big Man to reach down his big, scary, arm of fear to alter my Hell-destined course at least long enough for me to make it back to church the next Sunday to start the process all over again.

You follow me?

Ok.  So, as you can probably tell from my veiled bitterness in that last paragraph, I’m sure it’s needless of me to say that some of that ‘teaching’ is starting to fade a little as my adult mind starts to mature somewhat past all this (somewhat).  In fact, I have turned into what some (read: my grandma) may refer to as ‘rebellious.’  Pssssh.  Innocent lil ol’ me?  Rebellious?  But alas, ’tis true.

And yet.

Yet, rebellious little heathen mind and all, I still feel that incessant pull to go to church.  And, most of the time, I still heed to that pull.  Why is that, I wonder?  Eh, that’s a topic for another blog, I suppose.  The point is this: even though I don’t do the “resolution” thing per se, the New Year still comes tapping on my shoulder every year reminding me that it’s time to reassess and maybe work on a few things here and there.  And, in this case, 2014 seemed to be reminding me that it was time to get back to attending church.

Now, as luck would have it, Richard and I finally found a church that felt like ‘home’ to us a little over a year ago.  Even though we’re not the most regular attenders there ever were (see above: I’m working on that), we still both feel like we’ve found a place that feels a little more comfortable to us than most.  They just seem to be focused on that whole “love thy neighbor” stuff, rather than hell fire and brimstone, and we both seem to like that.  We like that a lot actually.  And, since our kids loved going to Sunday school, we even managed to find our way into our own adult Sunday school class.  After a somewhat prolonged absence, we all trudged back yesterday to work on this ‘regular attendance’ thing, and were greeted with hugs and a genuine collective “welcome back” that made us realize how much we had missed it.  (And, incidentally, there were no “Where have you been?”s at all.  Imagine that.)

So, there we sat in our Sunday school class, studying the book of James, when something seemed to absolutely jump out of the Bible at me.  (Me! Heathen rebel and all!)  Sitting right there in the second chapter was this phrase:

“…mercy triumphs over judgment.” James 2:13, NIV

Wait…what?  Did I just read that right?  Mercy?  You mean that whole “It’s ok, I understand that you’re human and you’re going to make mistakes” thing?  THAT is going to win over “You messed up chick, pack your bags for your trip to Hell?”  Surely not.

Yet there it was, people.  Right there in black and white.

Now, granted, these weren’t actually Jesus’ words.  But they came from James, who was Jesus’ brother.  And by brother, I don’t mean “brother in Christ” or whatever.  I mean, brother.  Brother as in, “Moooom!  Jesus turned my water in to wine again!  Make him stop!”  That kind of brother.   James actually grew up with Jesus.  Physically grew up in the same house with the guy.  So, if I were a betting woman (which I’m not, betting is a sin…), I’d say that James probably knew where Jesus stood on things.  Wouldn’t you say?  And according to James, that’s how it works – mercy TRIUMPHS over judgment.

So, why did that affect me so much?  Here’s why.

Most of you who know me, know that part of my…um…issue with church, the Bible, religion, etc., lies in the fact that some people tend use this book as their weapon when suppressing the rights of some of the people I love most in this world.  Who am I referring to, you ask?  Oh, I’m so glad you brought up that question. [*drags out soapbox*]  My gay friends, that’s who.  I’m not sure why gay rights is such an issue to me…I mean, I’m not gay.  As far as I know, my children aren’t gay.  No one in my immediate family is gay.  And yet, for as far back as I can remember, I have felt such a stirring in my soul that gay people are not “sinners” and therefore, should not be treated any differently than me.  And yet, how could that be?  The Bible says so right there in black and white that they are.  How could I have been brought up the way I have, and yet still feel in my gut that something somewhere isn’t right with all of that?

Well, there you go.  Maybe James just answered that for me.  Maybe, just maybe, Jesus was not sent to judge us.  What?  No judgment?  Maybe he was sent to show mercy.  To ALL of us.  Maybe he was sent to remind us that it is NOT our place to make rules or judgments on people based on what ‘sin’ they are or are not committing.  In fact, maybe it’s not up to us to hypothesize on what is or isn’t a sin at all.  Whether you are a firm believer in the Bible, or the biggest atheist that ever walked the planet, either way you HAVE to admit that there are inconsistencies in that thing.  Right?  Come on, don’t lie.  You know they’re there.  One page will say one thing as plain as day, and then you turn the page and there’s the exact opposite.  And you’ll have people say that the inconsistencies just lie in differences in ‘interpretation’ and blah, blah, blah.    Ok, I get that.  But I don’t think James left much for interpretation, do you?  Mercy triumphs over judgment.

Mercy triumphs over judgment.

To me, not only does that mean that’s how God will treat me, but that means that’s how I should treat everybody else.  It is not my place to judge.  It’s not your place to judge.  It’s not the government’s place to judge.  Why is that so hard to understand?  Could someone explain that to me, please?  What am I missing here?

If you still fall in the category of belief that homosexuality is a sin, then that’s fine.  You believe what you believe.  But let me tell you something.  As for me?  This girl is a Sinner with a capital “S.”  I mean, I’ve sinned a BUNCH.  I mean a friggin major TON of sins.  I could fill this blog for YEARS with all of them.  But you know what I get to do?  Marry the man I love.  One day (yes, maybe against his will, but whatever…), I’m going to marry Richard.  And no one is going to stop me.  Scarlett “S” emblazoned on my chest and all, I will still get the chance to say “I do.”  And it is so incredibly unfair that my gay friends have to travel to other states to be afforded that same courtesy.

Mercy triumphs over judgment.

Man.  Wouldn’t it be nice if everyone lived by that part of the Bible?  Oh hey – since picking and choosing which parts to go by seems to be the norm these days, is it too late to cast my vote for this verse?  I’m straight so I still get a say in the matter, right?

*sigh*

I know, I know.  My SPF 250 is packed and ready to go….

***

“Let’s make a law that gay people can have birthdays, but straight people get more cake–you know, to send the right message to kids.”
– Bill Maher