tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-44486311912763816672024-02-19T20:54:34.232-05:00Extras in My Ordinary LifeContemplating Quotes, Biblical Verses and Words of Wisdom that Help to Navigate the JourneyBophttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12138595629734395688noreply@blogger.comBlogger24125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4448631191276381667.post-40875921632741159792009-11-01T20:09:00.002-05:002009-11-01T20:32:28.439-05:00Extra Ordinary Endings<span xmlns=""> <p align="left"><span style="font-family:Verdana;">Happy All Saints Day! If any of my 'regular readers' still check back from time to time, I just wanted to say I am alive and back and thanks for still checking in! I have been away from my blog for a long time for the many things of life and death and change and growth that sewn together comprise our human experience. I will attempt to tell some of the stories of my absence in this and future blog posts. The following post I originally wrote for Mom's <a href="http://www.caringbridge.org/"><span style="TEXT-DECORATION: underline;color:#ffcc00;" >Caring Bridge</span></a> Journal on Saturday, March 28th, 2009, the day before she died. This fall whenever I see apples, I am remembering Mom and hope that you will too.</span><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"><br /></p></span><div align="center"><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"><span style="color:#cceedd;"></div><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 293px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 238px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5399308154668909986" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmfO0MVhwTkIf3RY20Wf1_gA10g_MVKWvgDFHjudWyo8ltrPNPbY0MtCYlzylDOOqFP1BObL-ltjOk-ZhTcCQpb6tUYR_hNloNgFSVYjX7T9-M4bUbKKWxx-MiklYz9BKQYTxWWdnpaeuD/s400/apple_bushel.jpg" /> <p align="center"></span></span><span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#ffc000;"><strong>Wait for the Lord;<br />Be strong, and let your heart take courage;<br />Wait for the Lord!<br />– Psalm 27:14</strong></span><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#cceedd;"> </span></p><p align="center"><span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#ffc000;"><strong>But those who wait on the Lord<br />Will renew their strength.<br />They will soar on wings like eagles;<br />They will run and not grow weary,<br />They will walk and not be faint.<br />- Isaiah 40:31 </strong></span><span style="font-family:Times New Roman;"><br /></p></span></span><p><span style="font-family:Verdana;">Keeping vigil is an almost lost art that has thankfully been seeing resurgence in recent years. I wish I had a personal guide though, but I do not. The best I have found is Megory Anderson, but she is in California and not Auburndale, Florida. Plus I don't really know her personally other than having been to one of her workshops and reading her books. We accept childbirth classes, midwives and doulas, and Lamaze breathing techniques and exercises as a common practices. Lots of resources are dedicated to birthing rooms, alternative birthing methods and teaching about preparing for a new life entering this world. We don't do as well with teaching people how to help someone enter into a new life in the next world though. We call it death and focus on the endings, not the beginnings. Popular literature and films when they do address it often make it seems scary and dark. We don't like to face it because to face it we have to admit our own mortality. It is often more comfortable to take part in the funeral than the actual dying process. At funerals there are set customs, traditions, expectations, "rulebooks" by which to go. We know the drill there. Perhaps we would do better if we really embraced this time not as a death and an ending but as a time of helping to give birth to a new life. Who doesn't rejoice when a new baby is born, right?</span><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"><br /><br /></span><span style="font-family:Verdana;">As a society our culture is not one that likes to wait. Generally speaking Americans hate standing in lines, we hate getting stuck in traffic and we absolutely can't stand to be put on hold when we make a call. Waiting causes us stress and anxiety…we are not comfortable with the process. We want instant tax refunds…We teach our children it's better to get the "Fast Pass" at amusement parks…We like quick, convenience foods...We couldn't even think of having a dial-up internet connection any longer. Some people have even gone so far to schedule their children's births with labor inducements and C-sections just so they don't have to wait and are not inconvenienced by the act of surprise. Fortunately (aside from suicide or physician assisted suicide) we cannot schedule death.</span><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"><br /><br /></span><span style="font-family:Verdana;">Mom though has never been one to mind waiting and taking the extra time to do things right. She is one of the most patient people I know. She knows that good things come to those who wait. She savors and enjoys the processes almost as much as the end results and <em>sometimes</em> I think even a little more. For her there has always been great joy in the doing. Growing up "convenience food" was a dirty word in our house. She made dinner from scratch almost every night and for the several years we were all at home that meant dinner for eight. She baked her own bread, she grew her own vegetables, she sewed clothes for her kids (and Halloween costumes). When she still lived in Buffalo (before the age of homeowner's associations' rules) having a clothes line was one of her prized possessions so that she could hang her clothes out to dry in the fresh air whenever the weather permitted even though she had a perfectly good electric dryer in basement. She's had a dishwasher since 1985, but it has hardly ever gotten used as she would prefer to wash them by hand, even after a big dinner party. At restaurants Mom will always ask if the mashed potatoes are instant or real…if someone didn't take the time to peel and cook real potatoes and actually "mash" them, she's not interested in eating them. For as long as I can remember we always went to the country to pick every kind of fruit and vegetable in season that was available at "You-Pick" farms so Mom could bring home large quantities to can them or freeze them herself and have enough to last all year. </span><span style="font-family:Times New Roman;"><br /></p></span><span style="font-family:Verdana;"></span><p><span style="font-family:Verdana;">At Cleveland Hill Lutheran Church in Cheektowaga, NY where we were members for many years, Mom was active on the Family Life Committee which among many other wonderful things hosted a large Strawberry Social for the church and the community every year in June. She always persuaded the women of the committee to go and pick all of the strawberries themselves, rather than just buying them already picked. It was a time of fellowship, friendship and memory building…joy in the process! The rest of the committee always tried to persuade Mom to let them make drop biscuits from Bisquick each year for the shortcake, but Mom saw value in the "real thing", the slower process…so each year she volunteered herself to make all of the biscuits from scratch by hand, rolled out and cut. </span><span style="font-family:Times New Roman;"><br /></span><span style="font-family:Verdana;"></span></p><p><span style="font-family:Verdana;">Whenever she was able, she preferred to travel by car as opposed to flying anywhere because for her there was always joy in the journey, taking in the scenery. For many, many years she drove all over the country by herself or later with a couple of grandchildren in tow to visit family and friends. When she wasn't in the mood for a sit down "Cracker Barrel" type of meal while she was traveling, instead of visiting fast food restaurants, Mom would always have a cooler and a little portable grill that she travelled with and would stop at a rest area and make her own meals. One fall on a trip back to Florida from Buffalo after she had been visiting family and friends and picking bushels of apples that she could take home for making pies and eating and <em>of course</em> making homemade applesauce to can, she got stuck in a gridlock on the interstate. Because of a huge accident, traffic went nowhere for hours. Most of us would have been beside ourselves, but it didn't faze her one bit. Whenever one of us would comment about nothing ever bothering her, her favorite reply was "Only dogs get mad." Anyway, it was beautiful fall day and she was going to enjoy it. Mom, in typical, quintessential Leoma style, got out of her van to get to the bags of WNY McIntosh and Cortland apples (her favorite varieties) that she had in the back and walked up and down the rows of cars passing out apples and making friends. She has always had the gift of friendship and even complete strangers have felt a camaraderie with her and usually felt comfortable enough to share their whole life story with her when they met.</span><span style="font-family:Times New Roman;"><br /></span><span style="font-family:Verdana;"></span></p><p><span style="font-family:Verdana;">Being a child of the Great Depression, Mom was also hip well before her time and had "gone green" many, many years before being environmentally conscious was popular. For at least my entire life Mom has been an avid recycler and conservationist. One time in the 1970's she even got a spot on the local TV news for her recycling efforts. If it could be reduced, reused and recycled, Mom found a way to do it. She even washed and reused "disposable" plastic plates, cups and utensils from parties that were designed to make clean-up a breeze. "Waste not, want not" could have been her motto. If you ask any of my siblings about some of their favorite meals from growing up they will surely include some of her leftover creations like something we have come to affectionately call "Stupid Meat Pie." We learned to turn off lights and appliances, conserve water and so much more. Mom, until the neuropathy or numbness in her fingers (a side effect from the treatments) made it difficult, even darned her socks if they got a hole. Today Mom continues in her conservationist spirit and is making the most of every breath, getting as much use out of it as she possibly can. Her periods of apnea (even when she is awake) are now lasting sometime a full minute or longer, but her heart keeps ticking and she is conserving her energy for when she needs it most. </span><span style="font-family:Times New Roman;"><br /></span><span style="font-family:Verdana;"></span></p><p><span style="font-family:Verdana;">To know our Mom is also to know that at the heart of who she is as a person is one of her greatest spiritual gifts, that of hospitality. At her home, her work, her church or wherever Mom goes nothing makes her happier than making those around her feel welcomed and valued, usually that in some way also involves food. Hospitality is her forte and she has used every resource God has given her to share that gift with others. She has always been the coffee hour queen for her churches both in Buffalo as a member of the Family Life Committee and more recently at Abiding Savior in Winter Haven, often times as the one woman show. Where others see work, she finds pleasure. She also loved to have people over to her house for dinner, as many as would fit around her tables and sometimes more. She made birthday cakes or other favorite treats for everyone she worked with when their special day arrived and sometimes, "Just because." She truly cared about the people who came into her life. To this end, the other one of the Hospice Aides (CNAs) shared this with me: she was caring for Mom and was having a particularly bad day and started to cry because she didn't think Mom was really aware or communicative anymore, but then Mom said, "Why are you crying? Don't be sad."</span><span style="font-family:Times New Roman;"><br /></p></span><p><span style="font-family:Verdana;">Also in using her gift of hospitality, Mom loved any occasion for a party, reunion or get-together. She had so much fun planning a surprise 25<sup>th</sup> wedding anniversary party for my brother Don and his wife Robin several years ago. Holidays were also a great time of feasting at Mom's house. My husband still reminisces about the first Thanksgiving he spent with the "Knitt Clan", there were eight or ten different pies (all homemade) and a buffet line to rival any -- Coming from a small family with a mom who didn't like to cook, he had never seen anything like it before. One can only dream and imagine what the future holds for Mom if this life has offered her only a "foretaste of the feast to come." </span><span style="font-family:Times New Roman;"><br /></p></span><p><span style="font-family:Verdana;">The doctor and nurses say there is really no reason medically at this point why Mom should still be with us. Sometime on Wednesday she started to decline dramatically. She has not even had water for a few days now, but she remains with us content, pain free and at peace just to be sharing in the moments of the days. Her vital signs are so low that her temperature and blood pressure will no longer register on the equipment they use to check it. She has stopped initiating communication with us but on rare occasion now she may still surprise us with a very simple reply. Mostly though when we are able to "converse" it is through body language, facial expressions, the blink of an eye, the slight movement of her lips or hand. Occasionally she will still have the reflex to kiss back when we kiss her. Usually it is just us talking to her and her listening, telling her things about the day, sharing memories, affirming the love we and all of you have for her, but I know she still hears. This IS God's time and Mom's time, we are on their schedule now and the doctor and nurses reassure us that each person's journey is unique.</span><span style="font-family:Times New Roman;"><br /></p></span><p><span style="font-family:Verdana;">Since yesterday afternoon, I have had the awesome privilege and responsibility of being the sole person keeping vigil with Mom until my brother, Doug, returns sometime later with his wife, Ann. We have listened to soft music and hymns, prayed together, read scripture and "talked." Even though I work in the hospice field teaching others about the dying process and grieving, about how we as a community can carry each other at our times of greatest need, meeting the needs of other families going through this same journey by providing them with compassionate volunteers to share the experience, at times I feel hopelessly inadequate. Keeping vigil, especially with one's mother, is a whole different ballgame. I question… Am I talking to her too much? Am I not talking to her enough? Have I shared all of the memories that I need to share? Am I forgetting something important? What if I spend too long getting something to eat or resting? Should I be doing something different to make it a more spiritual experience? Thankfully people who love us both help me to quiet the questions and just "be." It is too late to ask any more "important" questions that only she knows the answer to…hopefully I have all the answers I will need to know stored away somewhere and in the future recall them when necessary.</span><span style="font-family:Times New Roman;"><br /></p></span><p><span style="font-family:Verdana;">Although at first glance she seems to be mostly in a vegetative state, a closer look reveals that she is not. She is thinking -- her eyebrows sometimes go up and down in expression. There is a brightness to her eyes when she is looking at things and perhaps people that we cannot see. She attempts to mouth words at times…Wednesday through the late afternoon and night, she spoke at intervals, but not to us. At one point completely unprovoked she clearly said, "I miss you, Mom" and raised up her arm and made the "Come here" motion. It sent a shiver down my spine. Because often times the waiting is uncomfortable, the natural instinct is to try to help "troubleshoot" the "problem" so that the waiting can be over more quickly… maybe she is waiting for us to give her 'permission' …maybe she is waiting for reassurance that everything is going to be okay - we have done these things and continue to do them. Maybe she is waiting to talk to or see someone one last time…maybe she is waiting for the right person to come for her? These questions could be endless, but I am finding comfort in the thought that maybe she is just enjoying the process and the journey, taking the time to take in all of the scenery along the way and doing it "right" as she has always done, making the most of her resources and allowing them time in heaven to prepare the greatest feast and party she has ever known. I'm sure she won't be late!</span><span style="font-family:Times New Roman;"><br /></p></span><p><span style="font-family:Verdana;">When I am talking to groups about the hospice experience I share that although it is true as they say in educational circles that it "takes a village to raise a child," I believe it is also true that it takes a "village" to help an individual and their loved ones through a terminal illness. Thank you for being a part of our village! </span><span style="font-family:Times New Roman;"><br /></p></span><p><span style="font-family:Verdana;">I hope while you wait with us, you find a way to share your own special "apples" with those with whom you come in contact!</span><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"><br /></span><br /><p style="TEXT-ALIGN: center"><span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#ffc000;"><strong>O Lord, you have searched me and known me.<br />You know when I sit down and when I rise up;<br />you discern my thoughts from far away.<br />You search out my path and my lying down,<br />and are acquainted with all my ways.<br />Even before a word is on my tongue,<br />O Lord, you know it completely.<br />You hem me in, behind and before,<br />and lay your hand upon me.<br />Such knowledge is too wonderful for me;<br />it is so high that I cannot attain it.<br /><br />Where can I go from your spirit?<br />Or where can I flee from your presence?<br />If I ascend to heaven, you are there;<br />if I make my bed in Sheol, you are there.<br />If I take the wings of the morning<br />and settle at the farthest limits of the sea,<br />even there your hand shall lead me,<br />and your right hand shall hold me fast.<br />If I say, 'Surely the darkness shall cover me,<br />and the light around me become night',<br />even the darkness is not dark to you;<br />the night is as bright as the day,<br />for darkness is as light to you.<br /><br />For it was you who formed my inward parts;<br />you knit me together in my mother's womb.<br />I praise you, for I am fearfully and wonderfully made.<br />Wonderful are your works; that I know very well.<br />My frame was not hidden from you,<br />when I was being made in secret,<br />intricately woven in the depths of the earth.<br />Your eyes beheld my unformed substance.<br /><br />In your book were written<br />all the days that were formed for me,<br />when none of them as yet existed.<br /><br />Psalm 139:1 - 16</strong></span><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#cceedd;"> </p></span><br /><span style="font-family:Times New Roman;"><span style="font-family:Times New Roman;"><span style="font-family:Times New Roman;"><span style="font-family:Times New Roman;"></span></span></span></span>Bophttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12138595629734395688noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4448631191276381667.post-33592556759818681812008-05-04T20:47:00.025-04:002008-05-07T16:44:17.505-04:00Extra Ordinary Trust<div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3zPThDzz-eE_ttSmJLbHm5RTyydPrcUEIx4XGndzZ5QVFTKAf5jSq8pTDKyaJ8UMXi-tvRMUbfg_utnLwz17CP4l7WPrieR5pciLXWempfESUvBG8FdrBSLzqJxMVPPiW9pOGYsSkPNiz/s1600-h/100_2555.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5196697180176606354" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" height="226" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3zPThDzz-eE_ttSmJLbHm5RTyydPrcUEIx4XGndzZ5QVFTKAf5jSq8pTDKyaJ8UMXi-tvRMUbfg_utnLwz17CP4l7WPrieR5pciLXWempfESUvBG8FdrBSLzqJxMVPPiW9pOGYsSkPNiz/s320/100_2555.JPG" width="169" border="0" /></a><span style="color:#ffcc00;">You know that if you get in the water and have nothing to hold on to,<br />but try to behave as you would on dry land,<br />you will drown.<br />But if, on the other hand,<br />you trust yourself to the water and let go,<br />you will float.<br />And this is exactly the situation of faith.<br />- Alan W. Watts </span></div><div align="center"><br /></div><div align="left">I love to swim and consider myself to be a pretty good swimmer <em>in pools</em>. In fact when I was younger I would go swimming at every opportunity and loved spending hours upon hours in the pool until my finger tips would get all shrivelled. During the summers of my childhood I remember riding my bike several miles each morning to the local pool to swim until my heart was content and in my early teens I was even a competitive synchronized swimmer for a short time. Sometimes when I am alone or mostly alone in a pool, I love to just lie on my back and float on the top of the water. It is so relaxing and peaceful. However, I live near the Atlantic Ocean and although I love to walk on the beach and appreciate its massiveness and beauty and welcome any chance to go out on it in a boat, I rarely ever actually go swimming in it because it makes me uncomfortable to be out there in this massive body of water which has so many variables that I cannot control - the waves, the current, holes or drop offs in the ocean floor, fish, sharks, jellyfish, seaweed, pollution, broken pieces of whatever on the bottom, etc. -- not to mention the fact that I am legally blind without my glasses, so that adds to my feelings of unease in this uncontrolled environment.<br /><br /><blockquote><span style="color:#ffcc00;">You cannot prevent the birds of sorrow from flying over your head, but you can prevent them from building nests in your hair. - Ancient Chinese Proverb</span></blockquote></div><div align="left">For the past few months, I have been living this paradox. I was happily sailing upon the ocean of my life in my nicely accommodative vessel when it capsized and forced me to find a way to survive swimming <em>in the middle of the ocean</em>. The ocean is dark and deep. It is not a nice, clean and pretty pool. I cannot see my legs and feet dangling beneath me. I fear the waves overtaking me, fighting against the current, the sharks, in essence all of the unknowns that make me feel helpless in controlling my own destiny and each time the seaweed gets tangled on my legs it really freaks me out until I once again remember it is only seaweed and cannot harm me. At first I began to flail my arms and legs in desperation but there was no shoreline in sight, no edge of the pool to grab onto. I could swim, but to where?? I would tire quickly treading water and surely be overcome. I have had no choice but to learn to trust the water, let go of any illusions of control and simply float. I hope that the Coast Guard comes along soon to make a heroic rescue, but in the meantime I have finally remembered my survival skills.<br /><br /></div><blockquote><span style="color:#ffcc00;">You cannot control what happens to you, but you can control your attitude toward what happens to you, and in that, you will be mastering change rather than allowing it to master you. - Brian Tracy</span><br /></blockquote><div align="center"><br /></div><p align="left">I have been without words or even time for words for most of the past eight weeks. The "big picture" has finally been revealed (<em>for those of you who have been wondering about the follow-up news to </em><a href="http://extrasinmyordinarylife.blogspot.com/2008/03/extra-ordinary-hope.html"><em>my last post</em></a>) and it's not exactly pretty at first glance. I would have to equate it with more of a <a href="http://www.jacksonpollock.com/index.php">Jackson Pollock</a>, abstract expressionist, <a href="http://images.google.com/images?sourceid=navclient&ie=UTF-8&rls=GGLR,GGLR:2005-44,GGLR:en&q=Jackson+Pollock&um=1">type of piece</a>. If you are used to your art being more realistic or even impressionistic, your first view of Pollock's work may leave you shaking your head in disbelief at what seems to be simply scribbles and spatters of paint without a real purpose or even a cohesive subject that abandons the traditional ideas of composition. However, if one really, truly spends time with it, just allowing one's self to be immersed in the painting, I believe there are things to appreciate and learn from what is before you.When the medical specialists had decided they were finally finished with all of their poking, prodding and probing and the whole battery of diagnostics, we braced ourselves for "the reveal." Unlike a Ty Pennington <em>Extreme Makeover: Home Edition </em>reveal, we knew this would not be something to which we would be really looking forward, but nonetheless could not keep at bay any longer. The ultimate diagnosis for my mom is stage IV uterine cancer that had spread to her cervix, vagina, abdominal lymph nodes and lungs. I was there when the doctor, in his best <em>doctor voice</em>, said some very grave words: </p><blockquote><p align="left"><span style="color:#ffcc00;">Leoma, I am going to be completely honest with you. The chances of curing your cancer are at best 5%. Right now you will not survive a surgery to remove the cancer because it is too wide spread and you would have to be under the anesthesia too long and would lose too much blood. Radiation will not help you because radiation is a site specific treatment and while we are treating the cancer in one location, it will only spread more aggressively in the others. I am going to <em>try</em> a very strong chemotherapy, but there are no guarantees that it will work. Without treatment you have at best two months to live. With treatment, <em>if it works</em>, you could have nine months. . . to two, three, maybe,<em> if you are lucky</em>, even four years. But then again, I am not God, I am only a doctor. I am treating patients today who were supposed to die from their cancer twenty-five years ago. We will try the chemotherapy and see what happens. If it works and does not seriously decrease your quality of life with the side effects, we will try some more, but if it does not work, I will not put you through further treatments and then we will talk about palliative care.</span> </p></blockquote><p align="left"><em>So far</em>, it is working.<br /><br />I had spent the majority of the month of March in Florida caring for my mom. I initially went down from the 6th to the 11th and then I was to pass the torch on to one of my sisters, Patti, who was to take her turn from the 12th to the 26th and then my other sister, Kathy, and her oldest daughter, Lindsey, were to come for two weeks in April, and I was going to try to come back to fill the in the gap in between since I am the closest at just over 500 miles away and also have the most flexible work schedule. However, while my sister was there, just days after my return home from my first trip, Mom collapsed, became non-responsive, and was hospitalized. The doctors in the hospital told us that she may not survive, so on Sunday, March 16, we all gathered from near and far in the wee small hours of the morning to rally and support our Mom, thinking we would be saying our good-byes. It turned out that she was very low on all of her essential nutrients because up to this point she had been eating little or nothing for weeks and she had almost two quarts of fluid built up on her lungs that needed to be drained. Then both of my sisters and I and my one sister's oldest daughter stayed for the next 10 days or so to nurse her through that physically, spiritually and emotionally critical time as she began her chemotherapy. Kathy then got special permission through the family medical leave policy at her work to stay straight through the end of April so that the rest of us could feel more at ease returning to our own work and homes. </p><blockquote><span style="color:#ffcc00;">The closest to being in control we will ever be is in that moment that we realize we're not. - Brian Kessler </span></blockquote><p align="left"><a href="http://extrasinmyordinarylife.blogspot.com/2007/12/extra-ordinary-endings.html">Working for a hospice </a>and offering care and service to other families and teaching others to do likewise is a completely different ballgame than having a member (<a href="http://extrasinmyordinarylife.blogspot.com/2008/01/extra-ordinary-me.html"><em>or two</em></a>) of one's own family looking straight into the eyes of terminal illness. When I have been in Florida with my mom, I have felt guilty about what I wasn't doing at home, being with my husband and fulfilling the obligations of my work and vice versa -- when I have been at home and work tending to my obligations here, I have felt guilty about not spending time with my mom. The events of the past several months have been the greatest refresher course on "living in the moment." I want to be able to control all of the variables, but I know I cannot really control any of them. Nothing I do or don't do can change the course of the disease. There is a growing desire to make every moment meaningful, important, significant, worthy of creating lasting "<em>Hallmark</em> moment" type of memories. The reality is the days and conversations are filled with everyday, commonplace, mundane, unexceptional, ordinary things. I have often said in the past several months that if I knew that taking the job working with a hospice was really going to be training for my personal life, I am not so sure I would have signed on for the gig.</p><blockquote><p><span style="color:#ffcc00;">During the fourth watch of the night Jesus went out to them, walking on the lake. When the disciples saw him walking on the lake, they were terrified. "It's a ghost," they said, and cried out in fear. </span></p><p><span style="color:#ffcc00;">But Jesus immediately said to them: "Take courage! It is I. Don't be afraid."</span></p><p><span style="color:#ffcc00;">"Lord, if it's you," Peter replied, "tell me to come to you on the water."</span></p><p><span style="color:#ffcc00;">"Come," he said. </span></p><p><span style="color:#ffcc00;">Then Peter got down out of the boat, walked on the water and came toward Jesus. But when he saw the wind, he was afraid and, beginning to sink, cried out, "Lord, save me!" </span></p><p><span style="color:#ffcc00;">Immediately Jesus reached out his hand and caught him. "You of little faith," he said, "Why did you doubt?" </span></p><p><span style="color:#ffcc00;">And when they climbed into the boat, the wind died down. - Matthew 14:25-32 </span></p></blockquote><div align="center"><br /></div><blockquote><span style="color:#ffcc00;">Control is never achieved when sought after directly. It is the surprising outcome of letting go. - James Arthur Ray</span></blockquote><div align="left">I have been learning to swim in the ocean of a loved one's terminal illness, coming to terms with the sharks of tumors and losses sharing the same water and riding the waves of treatments and tests followed by more treatments and more tests. As I have learned to be comfortable just floating, amazing things have happened. I still cannot see the shore, but the sunrises and sunsets are beautiful from here. My mom is almost finished with the second three week cycle of chemotherapy, tomorrow we will learn if this too has done what the doctor had hoped that it would do as did the first. She has lost all of her hair, but the other side effects that she has experienced up to this point have been minimal and only mild to moderate in intensity. We hold our breath for the results of each report, but so far, things are going well. All of my remaining family or origin, my Mom and siblings, were together for Palm Sunday. . . had it not been for this ugly threat of death, when would we have all taken the time to gather again? I am building <em><span style="color:#ffcc00;">extraordinary trust</span></em> that it will all turn out for good, regardless.<br /></div><blockquote><span style="color:#ffcc00;">He who has faith has an inward reservoir of courage, hope, confidence, calmness and assuring trust that all will come out well, even though to the world it may appear to come out most badly. - Bertie Charles Forbes</span></blockquote><blockquote><p><span style="color:#ffcc00;">Now I know that the LORD saves his anointed; he answers him from his holy heaven<br />with the saving power of his right hand. Some trust in chariots and some in horses, but we trust in the name of the LORD our God. - Psalm 20:6-7 </span></p></blockquote>Bophttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12138595629734395688noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4448631191276381667.post-83448516686964792692008-03-01T19:33:00.010-05:002008-03-03T07:06:37.621-05:00Extra Ordinary Hope<div align="center"><span style="color:#ffcc00;"></span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfjfsdGXAqAaIljd7CV7OV3BeSfc2vOP77nNioNqevtyJhWRQn_exx02dNd-jmoJcebU5jDqjq7DSrGb_Qr_3045QdF930MIBP9IcxA8kG8QrJu1BnpSEmKMGKG9JnWPl9gPfQXDEKYO9C/s1600-h/100_2560.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5173190220123074098" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfjfsdGXAqAaIljd7CV7OV3BeSfc2vOP77nNioNqevtyJhWRQn_exx02dNd-jmoJcebU5jDqjq7DSrGb_Qr_3045QdF930MIBP9IcxA8kG8QrJu1BnpSEmKMGKG9JnWPl9gPfQXDEKYO9C/s320/100_2560.JPG" border="0" /></a><span style="color:#ffcc00;">Hope is like a road in the country;<br />there was never a road,<br />but when many people walk on it,<br />the road comes into existence.<br />~Lin Yutang</span><br /><div align="left"><br />In January, I got some extra ordinary news. It is ordinary news that thousands of people around the world get every day, but yet each time it is your turn, it is still ordinary news that changes your life. Having just finished reading Joan Didion's, "The Year of Magical Thinking," a memoir about the course of her life in the year following her husband's death, I have to borrow her words now . . . </div><blockquote><div align="left"><span style="color:#ffcc00;">Life changes fast.</span></div><div align="left"><span style="color:#ffcc00;">Life changes in the instant.</span></div><div align="left"><span style="color:#ffcc00;">[The ordinary instant.]</span></div><div align="left"><span style="color:#ffcc00;">You sit down to dinner and life as you know it ends.<br />The question of self-pity.</span> </div></blockquote><div align="left">These were the first words she wrote after her husband's death, a day or two after the fact. For a long time after that though, she wrote nothing else. In Joan's case she was referring to her husband, John Dunne, dying instantly of a massive heart attack as they sat down for dinner on December 30, 2003. In my case I am referring to "the phone call." Sometimes it is so easy to relate to the desire to engage in magical thinking.<br /><br />The day before my thirty-sixth birthday, January 21st, I got "the call. " It became, however, simply the first call in a series of many. It was from my sister, Patti. It started out rather normal enough in a brief exchange of pleasantries to assess how one another were doing. She lives in Ohio, but we are fairly close and talk pretty regularly. There was something a little different in her voice this time though that I could not exactly put my finger on. Then, she saved me the detective work and got right to the point. "Mom is in the hospital," she said, "the emergency room."<br /><span style="color:#ffcc00;"><span style="color:#ffcc00;"><blockquote><span style="color:#ffcc00;"><span style="color:#ffcc00;">Nobody likes to be the bringer of bad news - Sophocles </span></span></blockquote></span></span><span style="color:#ffcc00;"><span style="color:#ffcc00;"><blockquote><span style="color:#ffcc00;"><span style="color:#ffcc00;">Though it be honest, it is never good to bring bad news. </span><span style="color:#ffcc00;">- Shakespeare</span></span></blockquote></span></div><div align="left"></span>My mom has never been a patient in the hospital in all of her nearly seventy-eight years other than the few days following the birth of each of her six children. She rarely even goes to the doctor's office at all except for an annual check-up to renew the prescription for her blood pressure medication and she would not even be doing that had it not been for my sister's persistent prodding several years ago that it would be prudent to go in for a physical. She was especially happy when for a few years her doctor's office employed a nurse practitioner and she could get her prescription renewed then without actually having to see "the doctor"at all. Being a paragon of health has long been a source of pride for my mother. Throughout my lifetime she has joked, <em><span style="color:#ffcc00;">"Every time I went to see the doctor, I came home with a baby...my family is complete, so I don't need to go anymore."</span></em> You see, in Mom's world there has been no affliction that could not be healed by an aspirin, <a href="http://www.vermontcountrystore.com/shopping/product/detailmain.jsp?itemID=6551&itemType=PRODUCT&RS=1&keyword=Sayman+Salve">Sayman Salve</a> or some combination of the two, along with maybe a little chicken soup at times. Her favorite moniker to use when referring to herself is proclaiming, "I'm a <em><span style="color:#ffcc00;">'Tough Old Bird,'</span></em> " implying I guess that [from her perspective] people who get sick are somehow not as stalwart as herself. She has been for her family the model matriarch - always the caregiver, never the care recipient. We, her children and family, have, I think, bought into this on some level, taking for granted that she is always healthy, will always be our "Mom" and will always be there to support the rest of us in whatever capacity we need at the time. Although this type of thinking has served us well for so long, it perhaps has become our collective Achilles' heal. </div><div align="left"><blockquote><div align="left"><span style="color:#ffcc00;">A healthy body is a guest chamber for the soul</span></div><div align="left"><span style="color:#ffcc00;">a sick body is a prison - Sir Francis Bacon </span></div></blockquote></div><div align="left">We, as a family, must now face the consequences of that pride. It turns out that Mom has been bleeding for sometime, months in fact, but she will not confess exactly how long. I can only imagine the thought processes of a <em><span style="color:#ffcc00;">"Tough Old Bird"</span></em> who lives alone and whose self-image is so dependent on being that paragon of health and strength for everyone else: <em><span style="color:#ffcc00;">"</span><span style="color:#ffcc00;">This is. . .</span></em><span style="color:#ffcc00;"><em>just a thing," </em></span>she must have thought. <span style="color:#ffcc00;"><em>"It will go away."</em> </span><span style="color:#ffcc00;"><em>"It can't be anything serious, not for me anyway."</em> <em>"I don't get sick, that happens to other people . . . this too shall pass."</em></span> My mom, a child of the Great Depression beginning her adult life in the idealistic early 1950's, has been a woman of strong faith who simply accepts everything as it comes and does not [openly, anyway] question anything. Suffering in silence is somehow something to be admired in her world, character producing. </div><div align="left"><span style="color:#ffcc00;"><blockquote><span style="color:#ffcc00;">It's no use reminding yourself daily that you are mortal: it will be brought home to you soon enough. - Albert Camus </span></blockquote></span></div><div align="left">The evening of "the call" she had not been able to eat for several days prior and had been cramping a lot and lost a great deal of blood and was beginning to be very lightheaded, nauseous. She reached a point where fear of her own mortality was setting in for the first time in her life and now she was ready and willing to seek help but her doctor's office, the place she loved to avoid, had closed for the day. </div><div align="left"><blockquote><span style="color:#ffcc00;">A hospital is no place to be sick - Samuel Goldwyn</span> </blockquote></div><div align="left">So, she found her self in an emergency room when she should have been in her doctor's office, months ago. Waiting through all the protocol of emergency rooms, waiting hours for her turn, the fear did not necessarily decrease. Although part of her, for sanity's sake, was still holding on to the credo, "Nothing is wrong with <em>me</em>," the other part, however, knew that not to be true. Being there, admitting to the problem, giving it attention somehow gave it life and made it real. The magical thinking in prior avoidance of dealing with the problem had kept it imaginary and aloof. The tests they did at the hospital that night revealed what the ER doctor thought to be endometrial cancer, but he would not provide her with a confirmation and had her promise to follow-up with a gynecologist as soon as an appointment could be obtained. </div><div align="left"><span style="color:#ffcc00;"><span style="color:#ffcc00;"><blockquote><span style="color:#ffcc00;"><span style="color:#ffcc00;">How much of human life is lost in waiting - Ralph Waldo Emerson</span> </span></blockquote></span></div><div align="left"></span>Six weeks have passed since that night. There have been many doctor's appointments in the intervening time. First with the regular gynecologist who did some more basic tests and announced that he believed she did indeed have endometrial cancer and that a standard hysterectomy operation would be all she needed to remove the offending cells, leaving her afterwards, "as good as new." "However," he said, "I am not an oncologist. You will need to see the gynecologic oncologist before any course of action can be finalized." So off to the gynecologic oncologist she went, feeling rather confident with this new information that indeed her troubles would soon be over. We too, <em>though a little sceptical from taking illnesses more seriously than Mom,</em> felt a collective sigh of relief that such a simple solution would soon bring every thing back into the status quo. </div><div align="left"><blockquote><span style="color:#ffcc00;">Patience is waiting. Not passively waiting, that is laziness. But to keep going when the going is hard and slow - that is patience. - Unknown</span></blockquote></div><div align="left">The gynecologic oncologist, however, is much more thorough and comprehensive in his assessments before randomly or prematurely deciding on a course of action that would be perhaps incomplete. Mom, the novice patient, has now been subjected to a whole battery of tests. She has seen not only the gynecologic oncologist, but also a radiologist and has endured needle biopsies, ultrasounds, PET scans, MRIs . . . the full monty of cancer diagnostics. Every time we think they have settled on a diagnosis and accompanying treatment plan a new test reveals even more telling information that seemingly results in yet another test. The standard hysterectomy surgery, it turns out, is too risky to attempt in her situation. It has spread beyond the uterus and there is also cancer present in the cervix. The lymph nodes in her abdomen are enlarged and she is having fluid build up in her lungs. We do not yet know the full extent of all of these tests and still must wait longer for the "big picture" to be revealed. So now we pray. We wonder. We contemplate. We hope.</div><blockquote><p align="left"><span style="color:#ffcc00;">For in this hope we were saved. But hope that is seen is no hope at all. Who hopes for that he already has? But if we hope for what we do not yet have, we wait for it patiently. - Romans 8:24-25</span></p></blockquote><div align="left"><blockquote><span style="color:#ffcc00;">We judge of man's wisdom by his hope. -- Ralph Waldo Emerson</span></blockquote></div><div align="left">I have to keep reminding myself that "false hope" is a contradiction in terms. Unlike Mom, I question most everything. I have a somewhat scientific, mathematical and rational mind. I believe that knowledge is power and avidly research to gain that necessary, powerful knowledge in any given situation. Stages, Statistics, Prognoses - these can all be scary things. Together we face Mom's mortality as well as our own. Hope, though, is about belief and faith, intangible things that cannot be plotted on graphs and represented in charts. Hope comes when we don't have the promises of science to hold onto. "False hope" would seem to describe a situation in which the desired outcome is improbable and unlikely, but isn't all hope based on that belief that good will endure? </div><div align="left"><span style="color:#ffcc00;"><span style="color:#ffcc00;"><blockquote><span style="color:#ffcc00;"><span style="color:#ffcc00;">Hope is faith holding out its hand in the dark. – George Iles</span></span></blockquote></span></span></div><div align="left"><span style="color:#ffcc00;"><span style="color:#ffcc00;"><blockquote><span style="color:#ffcc00;"><span style="color:#ffcc00;">Therefore, since we have been justified through faith, we have peace with God through our Lord Jesus Christ, through whom we have gained access by faith into this grace in which we now stand. And we rejoice in the hope of the glory of God. Not only so, but we also rejoice in our sufferings, because we know that suffering produces perseverance; perseverance, character; and character, hope. And hope does not disappoint us, because God has poured out his love into our hearts by the Holy Spirit, whom he has given us. - Romans 5:1-5</span></span></blockquote></span></span></div><div align="left">I know that my mom will not live forever, but I am not ready for this to be the beginning of the end of our time together. So, I have hope that the self-proclaimed <em><span style="color:#ffcc00;">"Tough Old Bird"</span></em> will live up to her name. She has been ageless to us all for so long. Mom and I have not always seen things eye to eye. Sometimes our words, thoughts, and actions have left us each dumbfounded and grappling to make sense of what we cannot understand about one another. In recent years though I think we have both come to a new level of respect, acceptance and even admiration for one another and the lives we have chosen to live. So much of who I am, my values, the things that I hold dear, my personality traits, are linked in some part to being my mother's daughter. There are even marked similarities of character that have simply chosen to manifest themselves in different ways in the forty-one and a half year generational gap that separates us. I dearly love my mom and she loves me. We both know that to be true. I have extra ordinary hope that I will have years yet to enjoy more quality time with my mom as in her heart and in our minds she is still young. I have so much remaining to learn.<span style="color:#ffcc00;"><br /><span style="color:#ffcc00;"><blockquote><span style="color:#ffcc00;">Hope is the word which God has written on the brow of every man. ~Victor Hugo</span></blockquote></span></div><div align="center">May the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace<br />as you trust in him,<br />so that you may overflow with hope<br />by the power of the Holy Spirit.<br />-- Romans 15:13</div></span></div>Bophttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12138595629734395688noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4448631191276381667.post-8115014816527390182008-02-22T13:12:00.011-05:002008-02-22T20:23:10.499-05:00Extra Ordinary Memes<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwg0KjgikQ0VOXWrzfm0uXoMSUFkBYHqUovVPCocVyjpDMAVA5S5ES4DKltdHhYmGdH6Z1fH-6bnAW1x56rGpC8fs8w4bFEqn65mXbJIhhiGloKsnQZpSBfL2P6p4CF5oPweg8wFSP7lV2/s1600-h/books.gif"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5169895008338372162" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwg0KjgikQ0VOXWrzfm0uXoMSUFkBYHqUovVPCocVyjpDMAVA5S5ES4DKltdHhYmGdH6Z1fH-6bnAW1x56rGpC8fs8w4bFEqn65mXbJIhhiGloKsnQZpSBfL2P6p4CF5oPweg8wFSP7lV2/s320/books.gif" border="0" /></a>I had never considered the possibility of doing memes since I started this blog because<br /><strong><span style="color:#ffcc00;">A.</span></strong> I have so few regular readers <em>and</em><br /><span style="color:#ffcc00;">B.</span> My most faithful readers (and those that I read most frequently) don't seem to do memes very often<br /><br />I am not even sure the correct pronunciation for the word meme or it's origin...<em>probably should take the time to look that up</em>. Anyway, here I am finding myself tagged for two memes <em>(how exciting)</em> within two weeks and then taking two more weeks to respond to them. They are both about books though and I love to read, so I will play along. Here goes:<br /><br />First, <a href="http://bkclubcare.wordpress.com/">Care at Care's Online Book Club</a> tagged me for this <a href="http://bkclubcare.wordpress.com/2008/01/29/">Travel Reading Meme </a>(on January 29<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">th</span>) which she got from Lisa at <a href="http://lisamm.wordpress.com/2008/01/29/travel-reading-meme/">Books on her Brain</a>:<br /><ol><li><span style="color:#ffcc00;"><em>What book are you reading right now? Do you like it?</em></span></li><br /><li><span style="color:#ffcc00;"><em>What was the last book you read on a plane?</em></span></li><br /><li><span style="color:#ffcc00;"><em>What was the last book you read on a <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">roadtrip</span>?</em></span></li><br /><li><span style="color:#ffcc00;"><em>What is the most unusual place you found yourself reading?</em></span></li><br /><li><span style="color:#ffcc00;"><em>What books would you take to keep you occupied on a 2 week vacation to the beach?</em></span></li></ol><p align="center"><strong><span style="color:#ffcc00;">* * * * * * * * *</span></strong> </p><p><span style="color:#ffcc00;"><strong>1.</strong></span> I am a strange cookie because I typically don't read one book at a time per <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">se</span>, I rotate between reading several books simultaneously until one gets to the point that it "wins" out over the others and I then decide to stick with just that one to the finish. Then I go back to the group and start all over again. Right now I am rotating between <em>"Reading Lolita in Tehran"</em> by <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">Azar</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">Nafisi</span>, <em>"loved walked in"</em> by Marisa <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">de</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">los</span> Santos, <em>"Winning with People"</em> by John C. Maxwell, and <em>"Praying"</em> by J.I. Packer and Carolyn <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7">Nystrom</span>, having just finished <em>"The Year of Magical Thinking"</em> by Joan <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8">Didion</span> which was also in the pack until a few days ago when I decided it had won my undivided reading attention. So far, I like them all. I haven't read any honest to goodness fiction in a long time and was hoping that <em>"love walked in"</em> would be more engaging than it is, but it is still a good story. Anything by John C. Maxwell is engaging but he writes in a style that lends itself to reading a chapter or two and then taking a break to digest it all. The whole praying thing I am struggling with right now for many reasons, more on that in another post, so it seems that <em>"Reading Lolita in Tehran"</em> will be the next to break away from the pack as I often find myself drawn towards memoirs and biographies. </p><p><strong><span style="color:#ffcc00;">2.</span></strong> I honestly cannot answer this question because it has been so long that I am not sure exactly when the last time I flew on a plane was or what I might have been reading at the time. It has been more than a decade for sure. I can tell you the last time I went on a long train trip -- to Chicago -- I was reading John <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9">Grisham's</span><em> Skipping Christmas</em> and <em>Janette <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10">Oke</span>: A Heart for the <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11">Prairie</span></em> by Laurel <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12">Oke</span> Logan and a third which I don't recall.</p><p><span style="color:#ffcc00;"><strong>3.</strong></span> The last book I read on a <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13">road trip</span> was this past November when we went to the NC mountains and then I was also reading <em>"Praying"</em> by J.I. Packer and Carolyn <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14">Nystrom</span>. I got half way through it but with the whole job change and the holidays never quite got back to it so I set it down for a few months and now am picking it back up again.</p><p><span style="color:#ffcc00;"><strong>4.</strong></span> I had to think long and hard about a good answer for this one, but I think I will have to say that the most unusual place I've ever found myself reading was on the marching band practice field when I was in high school. There was a fair <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15">amount</span> of semi down time just holding your spot waiting for other sections to work on their moves (we had over 200 people in our band) so I would sometimes take the current paperback reading assignment for English class out with me and pull it out in between takes to catch up a bit.</p><p><span style="color:#ffcc00;"><strong>5.</strong></span> Since I live at the beach (or ten minutes from it) this is a hard question because I don't really plan to vacation at a beach anytime soon. I like to walk on the beach and go take pictures there, but have never been one to sit and read at the beach. Current events though leave me looking at several trips to Florida in the near future to spend some time with my mom while she is getting treatments, so lots of potential reading time on the train and in waiting rooms...I'll have to find something good. Suggestions are always welcome.</p><p align="center"><strong><span style="color:#ffcc00;">* * * * * * * * *</span></strong> </p><p>The next meme I have been tagged for is from Dan Brennan at <a href="http://danbrennan.typepad.com/my_weblog/">Faith Dance</a> with the <a href="http://danbrennan.typepad.com/my_weblog/2008/02/123-meme.html">1,2,3 Meme</a> (on February 5<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_16">th</span>) that he got from Maria at <a href="http://spiritualbirdwatching.blogspot.com/2008/02/1-2-3-book-meme.html">Spiritual Birdwatching</a> <em>[BTW - Maria if you come to visit, I like your blog template ;o) <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_17">hee</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_18">hee</span>]</em>:</p><ul><li>Pick up the nearest book (of at least 123 pages). </li><br /><li>Open the book to page 123.</li><br /><li>Find the fifth sentence. </li><br /><li>Post the next three sentences. </li><br /><li>Tag five people.</li></ul><p>So let's see what we get. I have picked up <em>"Praying"</em> by J.I. Packer and Carolyn <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_19">Nystrom</span>, since the page starts midway <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_20">thorugh</span> a sentence, I chose to start counting with the first five full sentences, now here are the next 1, 2, and 3 --</p><blockquote><p><span style="color:#ffcc00;">"The fact is that we will all pray more honestly and live more safely when we learn to regard checkup as a necessary spiritual discipline, and give it its proper place in our lives. So let us look at it now. God calls all his people to be holy, that is, consciously, conscientiously and continuously set apart to live in his company and his glory, with all that involves."</span></p></blockquote><span style="font-size:0;"><span style="font-size:0;"><span style="font-size:0;"><span style="font-size:0;"><span style="font-size:0;"><span style="font-size:0;"><p></span></span></span></span></span></span></p><span style="font-size:100%;"></span><p>My sincerest apologies to Carrie and Dan for seemingly ignoring and neglecting your tags for so long, I value both of you as my blogging friends and hope you will return to read again. I hope to sift through the reason for my absence in my next post.<br /><br />Now for the tagging part, <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_21">hmmm</span>, I'm not sure who (if anyone) I can entice to play along, but here are a few <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_22">bloggers</span> who I'd love to know more about what they are reading. If you choose to play along, you can pick either meme or both, you choose, but I am tagging:</p><ul><li>Mark at <a href="http://tobeme.wordpress.com/">The Naked Soul</a> </li><li>Theresa at <a href="http://myfairbankslife.blogspot.com/">My Fairbanks Life</a></li><li>Cindy at <a href="http://www.cindyb-scrappinlikecrazy.blogspot.com/"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_23">Scrappin</span>' Like Crazy</a></li><li>Dana at <a href="http://mayfairplace.blogspot.com/">Awareness </a></li><li>and Dan at <a href="http://danbrennan.typepad.com/">Faith Dance</a>, if you'd like to do the travel reading blog, consider yourself tagged back with something new.</li></ul><div align="center"><em><span style="color:#ffcc00;">It is better to play than do nothing. -- Confucius</span></em></div>Bophttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12138595629734395688noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4448631191276381667.post-3929171579723793942008-01-30T23:02:00.001-05:002008-02-10T13:07:40.724-05:00Extra Ordinary Life Lessons<div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9QUpU7WXKVwu8_FN9tOgLY6p8iPXTpPNgLFCIpl3E_lM7U-L9H7gFucg470Fhyphenhyphenlj89nkx9b_5xpZRCCurkeeeeLOpS8YoH3gVHkfmyGLmPYYY2J0WUrpv-VcCXjRwqc0C93zDS9uQuJ1E/s1600-h/elephant.jpg"><span style="color:#ffcc00;"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5162542305833613794" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 279px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 283px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" height="302" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9QUpU7WXKVwu8_FN9tOgLY6p8iPXTpPNgLFCIpl3E_lM7U-L9H7gFucg470Fhyphenhyphenlj89nkx9b_5xpZRCCurkeeeeLOpS8YoH3gVHkfmyGLmPYYY2J0WUrpv-VcCXjRwqc0C93zDS9uQuJ1E/s320/elephant.jpg" width="279" border="0" /></span></a><span style="color:#ffcc00;">You can eat an elephant.<br />Oh, yes you can it's true.<br />They may be huge but not to worry,<br />they aren't too big for you.<br /><br />Just how can I eat such a thing<br />that's so immense in size?<br />Just look at it in pieces<br />and make them all bite size.<br /><br />You see to look from head to tail<br />can be a daunting task.<br />Many would just give up now<br />and let the elephant pass.<br /><br />Look at it as if you can<br />eat it piece by piece,<br />It may take you a while,<br />but your goal you will reach.<br /><br />So, next time you have a task<br />that is difficult to do,<br />Remember, you can eat an elephant<br />so take a piece and chew!</span></div><br /><div align="center"><span style="color:#ffcc00;">- <a href="http://www.funlol.com/"><em><span style="color:#ffcc00;">www.funlol.com</span></em></a> -</span></div><br /><div align="center"></div><div align="left">I consider myself to be a fairly intelligent, reasonably educated, relatively successful and well-adjusted person, but there are some areas of my life that there just seems to be a disconnect for one reason or another. I can set goals and achieve them, brainstorm, plan out a method of attack and then follow it through to completion. However, there are parts of my life that just seem to elude the whole process. Well to be perfectly honest, not whole areas of my life, but seemingly just certain tasks or individual problems that seem to avoid the transfer. Part of this I think stems from the fact that I have a strong desire to do well anything that I devote my time and energies to, I want to "do it right" or not at all. I tend to exclude the phrase "good enough" from my personal vocabulary, believing that something is either good or it is not, "good enough" doesn't often come to life in my world.</div><br /><div align="left"><blockquote><span style="color:#ffcc00;">Don't do things half-assed. If a thing is worth doing at all, it's worth doing as well as you can possibly do it. Pick out something you think is worthwhile and do it or work at it with passion. Do it with all your might. -- Hugh Young</span></blockquote></div><div align="left">While this may be a great philosophy and value to uphold, it is paradoxically and simultaneously both my greatest strength and my greatest weakness. When I undertake a task, I will do it to what I believe to be the best of my ability. However, this way of approaching the world sometimes keeps me from doing things that I really should do and that truly need to be done --things that would benefit from any level of devotion, even if the best is not available. The alternative approach I like to call the "Slip, Slop, Slap" method and it is one of my biggest pet peeves to see people engaging in the "Slip, Slop, Slap" on projects that I believe are important. <em><span style="color:#ffffff;">(Just as a side note here - this is not a Bop original, but simply a borrowed phrase to which I've given new meaning, I must give credit where credit is due though. It is originally the campaign slogan for the Australian health initiative to reduce the risk of malignant melanoma in it's citizens. I first heard it several years ago and adopted it to describe a "half-assed" approach to things, but in it's orignial context it stands as a reminder for - "SLIP on a t-shirt, SLOP on some sunscreen, and SLAP on a hat" when one goes outside or is at the beach, which is an iniative I do support as one of my sisters is miraculously a melanoma survivor.)</span></em></div><br /><div align="left"><blockquote><span style="color:#ffcc00;">Our strength grows out of our weaknesses. --Ralph Waldo Emerson</span></blockquote></div><div align="left">At any rate, I am in the process of attempting to grow and become more conscious and aware of how the paradoxical nature of this blessing/curse, that seems to be hard-wired into me, affects my life and my actions and achievements in order to hopefully learn to lessen the negatives and augment the positives that come along with it. One strategy that I am finding helpful these days is that of breaking down a formidable task into smaller, more bite-sized pieces, like how one goes about eating the proverbial elephant. I like to fancy myself a "big picture" kind of person, but I have come to realize that certain situations call for me to simply look at each section or segment of the picture individually and in doing so the "big picture" will take care of itself. Sometimes I may think that I cannot bring a particular project to the level of completion that would bring me a sense of satifisfaction because of limitations in time, energy, money or other resources and therefore avoid tackling it at all. However, I am learning that I may be able to bring just a small portion of it close to my overall vision and that, at times <em><span style="color:#ffcc00;">is</span></em> "enough" for the moment.</div><div align="left"><blockquote><span style="color:#ffcc00;">I am only one; but still I am one. I cannot do everything, but still I can do something. I will not refuse to do the something I can do. -- Helen Keller</span> </blockquote></div><div align="left"><blockquote><span style="color:#ffcc00;">All great masters are chiefly distinguished by the power of adding a second, a third, and perhaps a fourth step in a continuous line. Many a man had taken the first step. With every additional step you enhance immensely the value of your first. -- Ralph Waldo Emerson </span></blockquote></div><div align="left">So it is with new acceptance and the embracing of a knowledge that perhaps I already knew in other areas of my life, that I celebrate this week the success of completing a home project and household task that has eluded me for so long. I am embarrased to confess to you exactly what it was, as it is such a seemingly simple chore for which most people (I think) eastablish a regular daily or weekly rituals and simply "just do it" as <em>Nike says,</em> often in popular "Slip, Slop, Slap" fashion, to be able to simply check the item off of their "To Do" list and move on with living. It takes me longer though to "do it right" and therefore I put it off until I have more time to complete the task in a manner I deem acceptable. Then with each avoidance it became a yet a bigger task that would take even more time to complete properly which in turn caused greater avoidance -- a negatively growing, self-feeding spiral. </div><div align="left"><blockquote><span style="color:#ffcc00;">One step at a time is all that's possible - even when those steps are taken on the run. -- Anne W. Schaef</span></blockquote></div><div align="left"></div><div align="left">There has been, for the last several month, a growing, nagging desire to finally "EAT this ELEPHANT" in my life. I reasoned, I am a fairly intelligent, reasonably educated, relatively successful and well-adjusted person in many areas of my life that this shouldn't be so hard. <em>"It's not rocket science, it's a household chore,"</em> I prodded myself. When I set my mind to do something, I know that I can do it and do it well. It was just a matter of overcoming this disconnect in my thinking. As I allowed my consciousness to comtemplate the task and no longer avoid thinking about it, it became a challenge and I <em>never</em> turn down a challenge! So, I began small bite by ever seemingly small bite. The acomplishment of this task became a present and gift that I so wanted to be able give myself - first for Thanksgiving, then I thought it would be achieved by Christmas, . . .New Year's perhaps? Okay, I <em>was</em> making progress. Even if I still saw the whole elephant in my mind, when I forced myself to step back and really, truly look at him, there were significant portions of the elephant now missing-- his ears, his trunk, a couple of legs... <em>"I can do this," </em>I thought. Maybe for my birthday on the 22nd? Alas, life and work got in the way delaying progress each time I set an "end date." Then, I gave up setting an end date. Although my determination grew as I was getting a little tired of finding new, interesting, and tasteful ways to cook up the leftovers: <a href="http://funkymunky.co.za/elephantstew.html">elephant stew</a>, <a href="http://www.congocookbook.com/soup_and_stew_recipes/elephant_soup.html">elephant soup</a>, <a href="http://www.drinksmixer.com/drink5892.html">Pink</a> and <a href="http://www.drinksmixer.com/drink3301.html">White Elephant</a> drinks, and even <a href="http://www.foodnetwork.com/food/recipes/recipe/0,1977,FOOD_9936_32358,00.html">Tomato Basil Elephant Ears</a> <em>(now these were particualrly good though). </em>I now had a desire to move onto other culinary tastes, focus on new goals and on Sunday, January 27th I finally used up the last of the elephant -- Success!!</div><div align="left"><blockquote><span style="color:#ffcc00;">The elevator to success is out of order. You'll have to use the stairs... one step at a time. -- Joe Girard</span></blockquote></div><div align="center"><em><span style="color:#ffffff;">Note to concerned wildlife and endangered species activists: </span></em></div><div align="center"><em><span style="color:#ffffff;">No actual elephants were harmed in the learning of this life lesson.</span></em></div>Bophttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12138595629734395688noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4448631191276381667.post-64361688030862928572008-01-27T13:03:00.000-05:002008-01-31T17:22:02.951-05:00Extra Ordinary Gifts<div align="center"><span style="color:#ffcc00;"></span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdze1jm7kH2fv_s9xOltpetR0or6EbM8vBvRTtIfyLVyplNFdfy4AyEVYKz_l3vvYB77Lwp6sx1vEgUnghyyQEGCrqw09ap3T9cJgBVh0O9Ndi4G3cHq7WRs1ErEIG6_RjKrFvaCHNhdJs/s1600-h/gifts+2.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5161047687279376850" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 158px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 241px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" height="255" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdze1jm7kH2fv_s9xOltpetR0or6EbM8vBvRTtIfyLVyplNFdfy4AyEVYKz_l3vvYB77Lwp6sx1vEgUnghyyQEGCrqw09ap3T9cJgBVh0O9Ndi4G3cHq7WRs1ErEIG6_RjKrFvaCHNhdJs/s320/gifts+2.jpg" width="192" border="0" /></a><span style="color:#ffcc00;">What we are is God's gift to us.<br />What we become is our gift to God.<br />- Eleanor Powell</span></div><br /><div align="center"><span style="color:#ffcc00;"></span></div><div align="left"></div><div align="left">In rereading my #17 of the <em><span style="color:#ffcc00;">"Thirty-six things about me as I turn thirty-six..."</span></em> list in my <a href="http://extrasinmyordinarylife.blogspot.com/2008/01/extra-ordinary-me.html">previous post</a>, I had to stop and think about all of the great variety of things that I wanted to be "when I grew up" and how none of things that I actually became were on the list. I am not sure what that says about me, but I have pondered it a good deal. I will say that for the period of time that they made the list, I was whole-<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">heartedly</span> sincere in each of their choosing. I envisioned myself getting the required education and training for each job and really visualized having success in each field. I even wrote a letter to Sea World once (I think this was at age 10 or 11) to ask what it would take to become a marine biologist and killer whale trainer. The summer between my junior and senior year of high school I spent a month at a residential music camp in South Dakota and studied under one of the horn players from the Boston Pops. One time in high school we had Career Day and we got the opportunity to shadow professionals throughout their work day and ask them questions and get a first hand look into what their job was really like, there weren't any professional symphonies around so I went for my science love and shadowed a physical therapist. I entered college as a Biology major, a lead-in to several of the careers on my list and I still took horn lessons for credit. Somehow or other though, each thing on the list, upon further examination, became not quite something to which I felt I could dedicate my life. </div><br /><div align="left"><blockquote><p><span style="color:#ffcc00;">Life is not easy for any of us. But what of that? We must have perseverance and above all confidence in ourselves. We must believe that we are gifted for something, and that this thing, at whatever cost, must be attained. - Marie Curie </span></p></blockquote>As I grew in years and learned more about myself, I learned that what I really wanted to do in life was to somehow "make a difference." <em>I know</em>, it sounds like such a trite <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">cliché</span>. I would almost be embarrassed to say it if it were not so naively true. All of the things that did make the list and many of those that I actually did (but that didn't make the list) were inspired by individuals who were at one time or another at least moderately influential in my own life and whom I perceived to be making a positive difference in the lives of others (blogging included). So many people go through life on autopilot, I wanted to help them see the possibilities of something more and experience it. I think a large part of this stems in some way from watching my father progress through his cancer and die at such a young age (you can read a little more of my insight into this in this <a href="http://extrasinmyordinarylife.blogspot.com/2007/08/extra-ordinary-roots.html">previous post</a>), the other part, however, I think is just something that is innately hardwired into me. As I have matured though, I have learned that there are infinitely many ways to "make a difference" and that this goal can be accomplished through an equally great variety of venues.<br /><p></p><blockquote><span style="color:#ffcc00;">We must not, in trying to think about how we can make a big difference, ignore the small daily differences we can make which, over time, add up to big differences that we often cannot foresee. -- Marian Wright <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">Edelman</span></span> </blockquote></div><div align="left">This past fall while I was still working as "Membership Coordinator" at the church where I was employed, I was assigned to be part of a team that created a spiritual gifts exploration workshop. The text we chose was called <em><a href="http://www.networkministries.com/">Network</a></em>. From a ministry oriented perspective its goal was "Getting the right people, in the right places, for the right reasons, at the right time." From a personal growth tool perspective its goal was to help individuals discover their God-given gifts which work together to form their own personal servant profile which is a combination of your passion (that indicates where you should serve), your spiritual gifts (that indicates what you should do) and your personal style (that indicates how you should serve). The problem with this program as it manifested itself in this particular location was that the message above the table was that there are inifintely many combinations of passions, gifts, and styles and all are equally valid and essential to function together to form the "Body of Christ," but the thinly veiled message was that some combinations were unacceptable. If you read my post on <a href="http://extrasinmyordinarylife.blogspot.com/2007/11/extra-ordinary-community.html"><em>Extra Ordinary Community</em></a>, you will understand this is one of the reasons why I chose to leave that position and ultimately that community. But the initial concept of such a program is one I truly supported and would recommend to anyone wishing to explore their own gifts. </div><br /><div align="left"></div><blockquote><span style="color:#ffcc00;">We all have different gifts and different ways of saying to the world who we are. The world needs a sense of worth, and it will achieve it only by its people feeling they are worthwhile. - Fred Rogers</span></blockquote><div align="left">Through my own participation in the inaugural session of our "God's Gift's" workshop, I was able to not necessarily discover things about myself that I didn't already know, but rather get a sense of affirmation that my own talents and skills and passions were indeed legitimate and God given, not just something that I accidentally stumbled upon over the years. It gave me even more confidence to move on and away. In my personal quest to "make a difference," I have spent many years helping other people to follow their dreams and realize their own potential. I saw things and people and missions that I believed in for the greater good and I wanted to <em>help </em>to make them bigger and more grand than they would otherwise be. Because of this, in one sense, I thought I didn't really have any gifts of my own, just helping other people with their gifts, but then lo and behold I discovered that "Helps" or helping others is a spiritual gift in and of itself. Surprise, surprise..."Helps" turned out to be my number one spiritual gift! </div><div align="left"><blockquote><span style="color:#ffcc00;">Now you are the body of Christ, and each one of you is a part of it. And in the church God has appointed first of all apostles, second prophets, third teachers, then workers of miracles, also those having gifts of healing, <em><span style="color:#ffffcc;">those able to help others</span></em>, those with gifts of administration, and those speaking in different kinds of tongues. Are all apostles? Are all prophets? Are all teachers? Do all work miracles? Do all have gifts of healing? Do all speak in tongues? Do all interpret? But eagerly desire the greater gifts. - 1 Corinthians 12:27-31</span></blockquote></div><div align="left">I recently read John C. Maxwell's book, <em><span style="color:#ffffcc;">Talent is Never Enough: Discovering the Choices that Will Take You Beyond Your Talent</span></em>. It is an amazing book that I highly recommend if you are interested in personal development, although I am a big fan of all of Maxwell's work, so my opinion may be biased. In the first chapter (p.17) he tells a story that really stuck with me and I want to relay it here. He says -</div><br /><div align="left"><blockquote><div align="left"><span style="color:#ffcc00;">Executive coach Joel <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">Garfinkle</span> recounts a story by writer Mark Twain in which a man died and met Saint Peter at the pearly gates. Immediately realizing that Saint Peter was a wise and knowledgeable individual, the man inquired, "Saint Peter, I have been interested in military history for many years. Tell me who was the greatest general of all time?" </span></div><br /><div align="left"><span style="color:#ffcc00;">Saint Peter quickly responded, "Oh, that's a simple question. It's that man right over there." </span></div><div align="left"><br /><span style="color:#ffcc00;">You must be mistaken," responded the man, now very<br />perplexed. "I knew that man on earth and he was just a common laborer." </span></div><br /><div align="left"><span style="color:#ffcc00;">"That's right my friend," assured Saint Peter. "He would have been that greatest general of all time,<em> if</em> he had been a general." </span></div></blockquote></div><div align="left">Did it stop you in your tracks? It did me when I first read it. Perhaps that is because my interests have been so diverse over the years. When I was younger (in my twenties) I used to sometimes play the "What if..." Game: <em>What if . . .</em> I am not doing what I am supposed to be doing? <em>What if . . .</em> I was really meant to pursue one of those careers on the list? Horrible game - I don't recommend it to anyone, but I think it is par for the course of development in one's twenties. As I entered my thirties and became "more comfortable in my own skin" as they say, I became more confident in simply being who I was created to be. My other top gifts that weave together to form the persona of <em>“Bop”</em> were creative communication, administration, mercy, apostleship, encouragement and faith. I think sometimes the greatest challenge lies in being the best "Bop". . . "BRKM". . . "Barbara". . . simply the best version of <em>me</em> that God created and as far as I know, I'm the only one exactly like me. If I don't become the best version of me, the world may miss out on having what I have been given to offer.</div><div align="left"><blockquote><div align="left"><span style="color:#ffcc00;">If a man is called to be a street sweeper, he should sweep streets even as Michelangelo painted, or Beethoven composed music, or Shakespeare wrote poetry. He should sweep streets so well that all the hosts of heaven and earth will pause and say, here lived a great street sweeper who did his job well. -- Martin Luther King, Jr. </span></div></blockquote></div><div align="left">Sometimes we see the gifts all nicely wrapped with pretty paper and fancy bows and we are afraid to open them. They look <em>too</em> good from the outside, we think. They couldn't possibly be for us, could they?? We are afraid to own the best versions of ourselves and open all of the gifts. The Creator has packed our figurative bags with all that we need to be successful, we just need to accept and open the gifts we have been given and then use them to the best of our abilities to make the world a better place because we were in it.</div><div align="left"><blockquote><span style="color:#ffcc00;">Each one should use whatever gift he has received to serve others, faithfully administering God's grace in its various forms. If anyone speaks, he should do it as one speaking the very words of God. If anyone serves, he should do it with the strength God provides, so that in all things God may be praised through Jesus Christ. To him be the glory and the power for ever and ever. Amen. - 1 Peter 4:10-11</span></blockquote></div><div align="left">Here's to your gifts and mine my friends! If you haven't already, start opening them today...<br /><span style="color:#ffcc00;"><span style="color:#ffcc00;"><blockquote><p><span style="color:#ffcc00;"><span style="color:#ffcc00;">Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate.<br />Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure.<br />It is our light, not our darkness that frightens us most.<br />We ask ourselves,<br /><em>‘Who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented and famous?’</em><br />Actually, who are you not to be?<br />You are a child of God.<br />Your playing small does not serve the world.<br />There is nothing enlightened about shrinking<br />so that people won’t feel insecure around you.<br />We were born to manifest the glory of God that is within us.<br />It’s not just in some of us; it’s in everyone.<br />And when we let our light shine,<br />we unconsciously give other people permission to do the same.<br />As we are liberated from our own fear,<br />our presence automatically liberates others. </span></span></p><p><span style="color:#ffcc00;"><em><span style="color:#ffcc00;">- Marianne Williamson, American author and lecturer</span> </em></span></p></blockquote></div></span></span>Bophttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12138595629734395688noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4448631191276381667.post-15215714265582561902008-01-22T16:35:00.000-05:002008-01-24T13:17:58.494-05:00Extra Ordinary Me!<div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj00da4PjYIyV7evPk_ERFPj38rVYLEVZCV022ROkFzGXGxMQsivK-LPgRA7KA0u-sRIpzD9vGj6Y8ZnCpwbHjwFH469pl20KSXkBFLWYIrCWzoajViMccB2zmLRyBOIeKtfK2azjaMDAWd/s1600-h/Me+and+my+Bike.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5158470633515560898" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" height="268" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj00da4PjYIyV7evPk_ERFPj38rVYLEVZCV022ROkFzGXGxMQsivK-LPgRA7KA0u-sRIpzD9vGj6Y8ZnCpwbHjwFH469pl20KSXkBFLWYIrCWzoajViMccB2zmLRyBOIeKtfK2azjaMDAWd/s320/Me+and+my+Bike.jpg" width="224" border="0" /></a><strong> <span style="color:#ffcc00;"><em>A diplomat is a man who remembers a woman's birthday</em></span> </strong><div align="center"><span style="color:#ffcc00;"><em><strong>but never remembers her age.- Robert Frost</strong></em></span></div><div align="center"></div><br /><div align="left">Sir Francis Bacon (1561), Lord Byron (1788), Steve Perry (1949), Diane Lane (1965), and <em>me</em> (1972). Last year I got my first grey hair -- <em>small tragedy I know, especially to those of you who have had them for some time</em> (<em>my husband included)--</em> but somehow I always thought they would hold off a little longer. Moms always blame getting grey hairs on their kids, I do not have that luxury. No time for a pity party though as they came without much fanfare or ado, just nonchalantly appearing one day. I am now officially closer to 40 than I am to 30 as I celebrate my 36th completed year! Although I think I can still buy myself some time in delaying the classification "middle-aged," I no longer qualify for my "early 30's" either. </div><br /><div align="left"></div><div align="left">This is the year I will have known my husband for an equal amount of time that I have lived without knowing him. I will also have lived half of my life now as a South Carolinian. I am not necessarily where I thought I would be in my life journey at this stage of the game, but overall I am satisfied with the choices I have made and believe that I am exactly where I need to be, learning, growing, and each day coming closer to my authentic self.<span style="color:#ffcc00;"></div><div align="left"><br /><blockquote><span style="color:#ffcc00;"><strong>I may not have gone where I intended to go, but I think I have ended up where I needed to be. - Douglas Adams</strong></span></blockquote></span></div><div align="left">At any rate, I see birthdays as a time of personal celebration and life reflection. I am very happy to have as many as I will be given, as it is much better than the alternative. I haven't posted in a while and at the rate I am going it will take me several years to get to my 100th post and the requisite "100 Things About Me". . . so for the curious or bored, I will leave you with this -</div><br /><div align="left"></div><div align="left"><span style="color:#ffcc00;"><strong>Thirty-six things about me as I turn thirty-six:</strong></span></div><ol><li><div align="left">I am the youngest of six children (three boys, three girls). </div></li><br /><li><div align="left">The first five siblings in my family are each between 18 and 24 months apart, however I am 8 years and four months younger than my next closest sibling in age. The oldest turned 51 this past November.</div></li><br /><li><div align="left">I have thirteen nieces and nephews ranging in age from 13 to 28, I am a godmother to four of them and I have two grandnieces!</div></li><br /><li><div align="left">I was born and raised until just before high school in a suburb of Buffalo, NY called Cheektowaga, which is an Iroquois Indian word that means "Land of the Crabapple Tree."</div></li><br /><li><div align="left">My Dad died of non-Hodgkin’s lymphoma when he was 48 and I was 6.</div></li><br /><li><div align="left">Two of my siblings have had cancer – one with malignant melanoma and thyroid cancer and the other prostate cancer. One is now cancer free after several years of an arduous struggle and the other is currently in the midst of his difficult battle. </div></li><br /><li><div align="left">I am mostly of Prussian ancestry. I think it’s a lot more fun than saying I’m just plain old German, but if I’m really in a playful mood and want to puzzle you, I’ll tell you at I’m least part Kashubian. Not up on your European history?? If you’re really interested, I’ll let you look it up.</div></li><br /><li><div align="left">I am 5’4” tall with brown hair and brown eyes and I think my best physical features are my eyes and my smile.</div></li><br /><li><div align="left">I have lived in three states: New York, Florida, and South Carolina and my travels outside of the U.S. only include Canada, Mexico, and the Bahamas. My favorite method of travel is by train, as the journey is sometimes the best part of the trip!</div></li><br /><li><div align="left">I feel equally at home and comfortable in a big city as I do in a small town or rural area, but I really don't like cookie cutter suburbs filled with subdivisions, strip malls, and all the same “big box” chains and restaurants. Ironically though, I have lived most of my life in such suburbs.</div></li><br /><li><div align="left">The next big trip within the U.S. that my husband and I want to take is to see The Grand Canyon.</div></li><br /><li><div align="left">I hope to someday have enough money and time to travel around the world – I was going to tell you my <em>“Must See”</em> places, but I can’t really think of a place that given the opportunity, I would say, “No I’m really not interested in going there.”</div></li><br /><li><div align="left">For a short time in my early teens I was a competitive synchronized swimmer.</div></li><br /><li><div align="left">In eighth grade I tried out for the boys soccer team (there wasn’t a girls team at my new school), made the first cut but then talked myself out of continuing with it. Needless to say, one of the movies I loved to watch when I was an early teen was "Quarterback Princess" with Helen Hunt...and this past summer I was one of the five people who went to see "Gracie" during it's short run in the theaters.</div></li><br /><li><div align="left">My first car was a brand new blue Chevy Cavalier that I got when I was eighteen, kept for over ten years and logged over 300,000 miles on it with no major mechanical repairs. My dream car would have been a ’67 Mustang, but my Mom was doing the purchasing and she wanted something "more reliable”…guess it doesn’t get much more reliable than that.</div></li><br /><li><div align="left">On the way home from college during my freshman year Christmas break I fell asleep at the wheel on top of a bridge and took out a big section of the concrete railing without falling off the bridge (It was less than ten miles from my home after driving more than 500 miles). The front driver’s side quadrant of the car was ruined, but I sustained no physical damage to my person.</div></li><br /><li><div align="left">Things I wanted to be "when I grew up” at various stages of life that never materialized <em>(in no particular order): </em>a cancer researcher, a dentist, a marine biologist and killer whale trainer at Sea World, a professional horn player for the Chicago Symphony Orchestra, a physical or occupational therapist, a forest ranger, a farmer, an agricultural development researcher, librarian, a botanist, a biology teacher, an elementary school teacher, an entrepreneur, and a graphic designer.</div></li><br /><li><div align="left">Once when we were first married in 1992, my husband and I did a week’s worth of grocery shopping with a roll of dimes, a roll of nickels, a box full of coupons, and the grocery store’s buy one, get one free sales flyer.</div></li><br /><li><div align="left">When I was a child (maybe 7 or 8?) I was so moved by the stories of the people on the Jerry Lewis’ Labor Day weekend muscular dystrophy telethon that I went door to door on all the streets in my neighborhood to collect money for it and then had my Mom drive me down to the local TV station to turn it in. I did this for several years in a row, now as an adult I rarely even remember that it is on.</div></li><br /><li><div align="left">When I was little I had an imaginary friend named “Match.” Go figure! Don’t ask, because I don’t know either …</div></li><br /><li><div align="left">There were over 600 people in my high school graduating class in Florida, I went to school with everything from the very rich to the very poor…I decided I liked the very poor better. My classes were a veritable league of nations…I had acquaintances who were from Iran, India, Pakistan, and all sorts of interesting places…we didn’t think much about it at the time, but looking back with today’s current events it would have made for a much more interesting experience I’m sure. If I had stayed in my original school system in Cheektowaga, NY there would have been about 90 kids in my class, all white middle class, mostly Roman Catholic and Polish.</div></li><br /><li><div align="left">I LOVE to ride my bicycle, it has been a life-long love, but other than my bright red tricycle that my parents purchased for me when I was three, any bicycle I had over the years was given to me used by someone else or the last one was purchased new by my husband’s parents as a gift, but I’ve never gotten to pick out my own bike!</div></li><br /><li><div align="left">I am normally a pretty practical person, but when I decide to splurge on something for myself it will most likely be earrings, fancy stationary/cards, cool gourmet specialty foods, BOOKS, fun hats, and really nice drawing pencils and a sketch book.</div></li><br /><li><div align="left">My favorite season of the year is autumn and on the first truly cool day after the heat of summer, I like to make pumpkin bread as a celebration.</div></li><br /><li><div align="left">I don’t like people who are impatient with children, the elderly, and/or the disabled. We were all young once, if we are lucky we will get to old age, and disabled is a matter of perspective - we are all less able in our own ways.</div></li><br /><li><div align="left">My favorite junk food is a chili cheese hot dog (I am a hot dog snob though, I only like the good ones) and I am a dark chocolate and cocoa connoisseur…is 88% cacao too much? </div></li><br /><li><div align="left">My favorite thing to eat for breakfast is oatmeal with almonds and fruit. </div></li><br /><li><div align="left">I am a “Luthcopalian” (a term coined by my dear friend for someone who was Lutheran but converted to Episcopalianism) Right now though I feel like a woman without a country, finding a place to fit in neither of those communities locally. </div></li><br /><li><div align="left">I believe in the power of prayer and taking the time to connect with our creator.</div></li><br /><li><div align="left">One of my favorite things to do is watch the moon rise over the ocean. One day I hope to be able to take a really good picture of it. </div></li><br /><li><div align="left">One of my pet peeves is people who just kind of/sort of put their grocery shopping cart back in the general direction of the parking lot cart corral instead of just taking the extra couple of seconds to do it “right.” I have been known to take other people's stray carts to the corral on my way with mine and then organize them when I get there to take up the least amount of space possible and allow the most carts to fit. Crazy – I know! A little OCD, maybe?</div></li><br /><li><div align="left">I buy organic whenever I can afford it and am a dedicated recycler.</div></li><br /><li><div align="left">I love snow and icicles, especially appreciating the individual beauty of each flake.</div></li><br /><li><div align="left">My favorite holiday is Thanksgiving because it brings together family and friends without any hard and fast "rules" for celebration and it is not necessarily tied to religious observances or overly commercialized. It is simply about being thankful and showing gratitiude for the people and things that add meaning to you life and the blessings you have been given through them.</div></li><br /><li><div align="left">I would describe myself as curious and adventurous, I love to learn new things and meet new people. </div></li><br /><li><div align="left">I got the nickname Bop from one of my nieces when she was just learning to talk, my given name is Barbara, but my family typically calls me Barb or Barbie and when she tried to say “Aunt Barb” it came out “Aunt Bop” and it just stuck. I don’t know... I just liked it and it seemed to fit, so I kept it. That niece will turn 22 this year!</div></li></ol></div>Bophttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12138595629734395688noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4448631191276381667.post-91885536574632387502007-12-31T11:43:00.000-05:002008-01-07T18:31:55.362-05:00Extra Ordinary Gratitude<div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwQtyr2WEi1e4AExZJOPZwwfBL1KDZivxkuBZ2eCP3JWkhqx1f1Cq555-ovrQs6LJFuvkUlzGtm34lonzKxKx2iWlZh7LMGVtsADJPsJHuoy0oeQ3NaTrEcBMVF0nG6TIOOA_i5ma66kZ1/s1600-h/100_1521.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5152858313850531762" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" height="173" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwQtyr2WEi1e4AExZJOPZwwfBL1KDZivxkuBZ2eCP3JWkhqx1f1Cq555-ovrQs6LJFuvkUlzGtm34lonzKxKx2iWlZh7LMGVtsADJPsJHuoy0oeQ3NaTrEcBMVF0nG6TIOOA_i5ma66kZ1/s320/100_1521.JPG" width="258" border="0" /></a> <span style="color:#ffcc00;">Be joyful always; </span><span style="color:#ffcc00;">pray continually; </span><div align="center"><span style="color:#ffcc00;"><em>give thanks in all circumstances,</em></span><br /><span style="color:#ffcc00;">for this is God's will for you in Christ Jesus. </span></div><div align="center"><span style="color:#ffcc00;">-- 1 Thessalonians 5:16 - 18</span></div><div align="center"></div><br /><div align="left">2007 has come to an end. If I were to think of one word to express or sum up the things I have experienced in the past twelve months it would, without a doubt, be <span style="color:#ffcc00;"><em>dichotomy</em></span>. So many things I saw or heard or encountered were seemingly contradictory. Had I been given the option back in December of 2006 to choose what my life would look like for the then upcoming year, I'm not so sure I would have chosen what I ended up living, but in retrospect I am indeed thankful for every moment of it. I have grown, I have changed, and I have learned something from all that I experienced. In conducting my mental review though, I cannot help but think of <span style="color:#ffcc00;">Charles Dickens'</span> opening to <a href="http://www.literature.org/authors/dickens-charles/two-cities/index.html"><em><span style="color:#ffcc00;">Tale of Two Cities</span></em></a>:</div><br /><blockquote><p align="left"><span style="color:#ffcc00;">It was the best of times, it was the worst of times, it was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness, it was the epoch of belief, it was the epoch of incredulity, it was the season of Light, it was the season of Darkness, it was the spring of hope, it was the winter of despair, we had everything before us, we had nothing before us, we were all going direct to Heaven, we were all going direct the other way- in short, the period was so far like the present period, that some of its noisiest authorities insisted on its being received, for good or for evil, in the superlative degree of comparison only.</span></p></blockquote><p align="left">I began this past year facing a series of chest x-rays and an MRI for a lump that developed and enlarged in around my collar bone and upper rib during 2006. I had put them off until after holidays, but January 3rd there was no more waiting. They were unable to find anything definitive and unless I wanted to engage in an <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">exploratory</span> surgery, watch and wait was my only option. I have a lot of cancer in my family, so it was a little disconcerting but I elected do the watch and wait nonetheless. Today I can still tell you exactly where it is, but it has shrunk a good deal and I am not conscious of it on a day-to-day basis as I have been in the past, so I guess for now it will remain just one of those mysterious things. I learned to have trust and faith that I would be led to make the best decisions at a time when there were no definitive answers, to accept that I would be protected and cared for by our Creator.</p><blockquote><p align="left"><span style="color:#ffcc00;">It is reasonable to expect the doctor to recognize that science may not have all the answers to problems of health and healing. - Norman Cousins.</span></p></span></blockquote><blockquote><p align="left"><span style="color:#ffcc00;">The wish for healing has ever been the half of health. - Hippolytus</span> </p></blockquote><p align="left">The beginning of the year was also filled with the great excitement and anticipation of the beginning of a new job on permanent basis where I had worked temporarily in the fall of 2006. I originally thought it would be a destination where I would stay for a much longer period of time. However, I was soon to discover that what I envisioned my purpose there to be was going to be vastly different from what God envisioned that purpose for me to be. Where I saw a period, He only meant for there to be a comma. It was simply just one of the facets of the year-long graduate level fortitude course He enrolled me in, without my consent. In this job which lasted eleven of the past twelve months, I learned many lessons about friendship, Christ-like love (or the absence of it), communities, public personas vs. private lives and what happens when ordinary people experience extraordinary pain. In the end, what I first saw as a place of arrival, was simply to be a 'layover' in my journey to another place. Once I came to that acceptance, I could simply take it all in and store what I had learned for future use. <span style="color:#ffcc00;"><span style="color:#ffcc00;"><span style="color:#ffcc00;"></p><blockquote><p align="left"><span style="color:#ffcc00;"><span style="color:#ffcc00;"><span style="color:#ffcc00;">Then Job replied to the LORD : "I know that you can do all things; no plan of yours can be thwarted..." - Job 42:2</span></span></span></p></blockquote></span></span></span><p align="left">In the middle of the year, I watched as my husband said goodbye to his career of fourteen years, and a passion we both had shared for many of them. It was a love of music and music education that had initially brought us together in the early stages of our relationship, but an environment that we had both outgrown. The situation presented it's own financial and emotional struggles. We learned what it means to have your identity so wrapped up in a career that somehow you lose a portion of yourself and what it means to redefine yourself in a way that is true to your inner most being. We learned what it takes to truly live a more financially balanced life and the differences between wants and needs and what we were willing to give up to meet our basic needs. For a while the prospect of giving up the expense of our house was a nearing reality, but ultimately that did not come to pass.</p><span style="color:#ffcc00;"><blockquote><p align="left"><span style="color:#ffcc00;">I'm not afraid of storms, for I'm learning how to sail my ship. - Louisa May Alcott</span></p></blockquote></span><p align="left">In the middle of August we found ourselves at a place in our fifteen year old married relationship (and seventeen years of being best friends) that we didn't know how to navigate on our own. It was not a place we ever thought that <em>we</em> would end up; there were no rule books or game plans ready to follow and we made some mistakes. We found who we like to call, "Our paid friend, George" and he gave us some maps and a compass to help us find our way out of the woods. We are still in the process of forging this new path out of the wilderness together that will be the foundation for the next season of our lives. We learned that relationships don't run on auto-pilot. We learned that if you lose sight of where you are going, you're going to get lost. We learned to see each other with new eyes and with a new appreciation for the people who we had emerged into while we were each busy in our own ways doing work to hopefully make the world a better place. We re-learned what we value in each other and that nothing is to be taken for granted, especially in relationships. We learned how to fall in love again. We learned to say, "Chow Funs!"</p><span style="color:#ffcc00;"><em><span style="color:#ffcc00;"><blockquote><p align="left"><span style="color:#ffcc00;"><em><span style="color:#ffcc00;">That's not why I'm saying Chow <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">Funs</span>. I'm saying Chow <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8">Funs</span> because we're an us. There's a history here, and histories don't happen overnight. In Mesopotamia or Ancient Troy there are cities built on top of other cities, but I don't want another city, I like this city. I know what kind of mood you’re in when you wake up by which eyebrow is higher, and you know I'm a little quiet in the morning and compensate accordingly, that's a dance you perfect over time. And it's hard, it's much harder than I thought it would be, but there's more good than bad and you don't just give up! . . . And I'll try to relax, let's face it, anybody is going to have traits that get on your nerves, I mean, why shouldn't it be your annoying traits, and I know I'm no day at the beach, but I do have a good sense of direction so I can at least find the beach, which isn't a weakness of yours, it's a strength of mine. And God you're a good friend and good friends are hard to find. . . And ultimately, isn't that what it comes down too? What a person is made of? That girl in the pin helmet is still here 'bee boo bee boo' I didn't even know she existed until you and I'm afraid if you leave I may never see her again, even though I said at times you beat her out of me, isn't that the paradox? Haven't we hit the essential paradox? Give and take, push and pull, the yen the yang. The best of times, the worst of times! I think Dickens said it best, 'He could eat no fat, his wife could eat no lean', but, that doesn't really apply here does it? What I'm trying to say is, I'm saying Chow <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9">Funs</span> because, I love you! </span></em></span></p><p align="left"><span style="color:#ffcc00;"><em><span style="color:#ffcc00;"></span></em><em><span style="color:#ffcc00;">- Katie Jordan (Michelle <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10">Pfeiffer</span>), The Story of Us, 1999</span></em></p></span></blockquote></span></em><blockquote><p align="left"><span style="color:#ffcc00;">We come to love not by finding a perfect person, but by learning to see an imperfect person perfectly – Sam Keen</span></p></blockquote></span><p align="left">The end of October found us with a home equity loan to purchase two new vehicles, one brand new and one new to us, as well as a little extra to tide us over financially until I got my new job, career path and mission that began in December and my husband got a promotion to assistant manager (second in command) at his new career in retail sales. </p><p align="left">The holidays which for us were once about creating memories for others with music making through parades and concerts and choir singing, became a season where my husband's work was directly involved in the crazy holiday shopping scene-- something we ourselves usually tried to avoid. Our schedules were different, the experience was different. We each had our own emotions and memories of Christmases past and hopes for Christmases of the future. Christmas of the present was simply about being joyful in the moment for the simple pleasures of life and the blessings we had received in the past year, even if they often came in disguise. We didn't put up any decorations or tree, but we shared our favorite traditional Christmas Eve dinner, drove around the neighborhood to admire everyone else's displays of lights and we worshiped and connected with our Creator and Savior, for the first time in a long time just as visitors of the congregation where we were not members and not directly as participants in the service among friends and acquaintances we had grown to know and love.</p><span style="color:#ffcc00;"><em><span style="color:#ffcc00;"><blockquote><p align="left"><span style="color:#ffcc00;"><em><span style="color:#ffcc00;">And there were in the same country shepherds abiding in the field, keeping watch over their flock by night. And lo, the angel of the Lord came upon them, and the glory of the Lord shone round about them: and they were so afraid. And the angel said unto them, 'Fear not: for behold, I bring unto you good tidings of great joy, which shall be to all people. For unto you is born this day in the City of David a Savior, which is Christ the Lord. And this shall be a sign unto you; Ye shall find the babe wrapped in swaddling clothes, lying in a manger.' And suddenly there was with the angel a multitude of the heavenly host, praising God, and saying, 'Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace, good will toward men. That's what Christmas is all about, Charlie Brown. -- Linus Van Pelt, A Charlie Brown<br />Christmas, 1965</span></em></span></p></blockquote></span></em></span><p align="left">It was a year of many blessings that arrived packaged as challenges. At first we were afraid to open them, but once we did we had the ability to grow and change and learn and love in a whole new way. We also were given the gift of strengthen relationships from acquaintances who became friends, some rather unexpectedly and new people who arrived in our life that we never knew existed in the beginning of last year - some of whom brought a whole set of blessings and gifts of their own with their arrival - some of them are here in the blog world! We are at a better place now than we were before the experiences of 2007 and we wouldn't have arrived here without them. <em><span style="color:#ffcc00;">For that I am extraordinarily grateful!</span></em></p><span style="color:#ffcc00;"><span style="color:#ffcc00;"><span style="color:#ffcc00;"><span style="color:#ffcc00;"><span style="color:#ffcc00;"><blockquote><p align="left"><span style="color:#ffcc00;"><span style="color:#ffcc00;"><span style="color:#ffcc00;"><span style="color:#ffcc00;">The soul would have no rainbow had the eyes no tears. - John Vance Cheney</span></span></span></span></p></blockquote></span></span></span></span></span><p align="left"></p><p align="left">As we each look ahead with hopes and dreams and goals for 2008, I leave these words and wishes for you, my friends in the blog world:</p><p align="center"><span style="color:#ffcc00;"><span style="color:#ffcc00;"><em>May God give you...<br />For every storm a rainbow,<br />for every tear a smile,<br />for every care a promise<br />and a blessing in each trial.<br />For every problem life sends, a faithful friend to share,<br />for every sigh a sweet song and an answer for each prayer.<br />- Traditional Irish Blessing </em></span></p><p align="center"><span style="color:#ffcc00;"><em>Happy New Year! </em></span></p></span></div>Bophttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12138595629734395688noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4448631191276381667.post-18564635710510387562007-12-15T07:55:00.000-05:002008-01-05T08:46:14.484-05:00Extra Ordinary Endings<div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSb__5P8n5PKjZ7pnvOygvT1_gj01M105Ayo9YKgdlyQrORy_FCp3pYCt4inca_zG5NZ2dpxVGfXOe5Gy639pGIemB3PMz5r3wtoi6TTtK8mrVnO7uq_Owy_OecnWzbfbqmUhOkypDcpJu/s1600-h/100_1973.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5149952802834526114" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 172px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 221px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" height="240" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSb__5P8n5PKjZ7pnvOygvT1_gj01M105Ayo9YKgdlyQrORy_FCp3pYCt4inca_zG5NZ2dpxVGfXOe5Gy639pGIemB3PMz5r3wtoi6TTtK8mrVnO7uq_Owy_OecnWzbfbqmUhOkypDcpJu/s320/100_1973.JPG" width="189" border="0" /></a> <span style="color:#ffcc00;">"You matter because you are you and<br />you matter to the last moment of your life, </span></div><div align="center"><span style="color:#ffcc00;">and we will do everything we can<br />not only to help you die peacefully </span></div><div align="center"><span style="color:#ffcc00;">but to <em>live</em> until you die"<br />- Dame Cecily Saunders, MD</span><em><span style="color:#ffcc00;">, Hospice Founder</span> </em></div><p></p><p>Thus marks the beginning of my new career in extraordinary endings. My new job is somewhat of a paradox, but I love every minute of it and am excited about the possibilities that lie before me at the beginning of this journey. For the first time I am working in a non-profit type role in a (very much) for-profit company. I am the new regional volunteer coordinator for a hospice company. My territory currently includes seven counties in the eastern part of our state. A lot of people are unfamiliar with what hospice really is and what it does unless they have had cause to experience it first hand through the end of the life of a loved one. Therefore when people ask me what it is I do now, sometimes I am not sure they come away with an accurate representation of my new position when they offer a rather generic, "Oh, that sounds <em>nice</em>." <em><span style="color:#ffcc00;">Just as a side note here - I absolutely hate the word "nice." I think it is the most overused demeaning, seemingly positive, yet insincere adjective</span></em> <span style="color:#ffcc00;"><em>I know - but that's a blog post for another day!</em></span> </p><p align="left">The concept of a for profit company even having a segment of their mission that incorporates volunteers can be confusing. Even at my company orientation, the opening session was a mix of all their new employees regardless of role or position within the company and we all decided to go out to lunch together and one of the others at the orientation was just fascinated with the concept of my job - how I could have a paid position to entice people to give up their free time to volunteer for something. Obviously she had never been passionate enough about something before to contribute to a cause or organization with no hopes of receiving anything tangible in return. I felt a little sorry for her in that regard.</p><blockquote><p align="left"><span style="color:#ffcc00;">We make a living by what we do, but we make a life by what we give. --Winston Churchill</span> </p></blockquote><blockquote><p align="left"><span style="color:#ffcc00;">I have been the recipient of love and service, therefore I can love and serve. There is great satisfaction in service to others, in . . .</span> <span style="color:#ffcc00;">seeing people and their conditions change. --Clarence E. Hodges </span></p></blockquote><p align="left"><em><span style="color:#ffcc00;">So what exactly do I do now?</span></em> My in-laws are still perplexed...the questions they ask me let me know that they just don't get it...but over the years, I've learned to be okay with that. When one's choices don't necessarily follow convention, one has to expect (or perhaps the word I should use is <em>accept</em>) the questions. </p><blockquote><span style="color:#ffcc00;">If you want to be successful, know what you are doing, love what you are doing, and believe in what you are doing. - Will Rogers</span></blockquote><p align="left">Hospice care is more about living than dying. It is about adding value to everyday life, especially at a time when you are most aware of its limit. The treatment goal of hospice is to enable patients to continue an alert, pain-free life and to manage other symptoms so that their last days may be spent with dignity and quality surrounded by their loved ones. Through an inter-disciplinary team which includes a physician, registered nurse, social worker, bereavement counselor, spiritual counselor and volunteers, hospice works to provide the best care for both patient and family, striving not only to meet the physical needs but also the emotional needs of the patient and the family. Hospice is not necessarily a place, but a concept of care that is expressly tailored to each individual <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">patient's</span> needs, wishes, and desires and to alleviate the fears most commonly associated with a terminal illness.</p><blockquote><span style="color:#ffcc00;">It's only when we truly know and understand that we have a limited time on earth -- and that we have no way of knowing when our time is up, we will then begin to live each day to the fullest, as if it was the only one we had. - Elisabeth <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">Kubler</span>-Ross</span></blockquote><p align="left"><em><span style="color:#ffcc00;">So why the volunteers?</span></em> Volunteers are an essential and valuable component in the whole hospice picture. They are not paid professionals, they are regular people, just like our patients and their families, with an enormous amount of caring and compassion for their fellow man. The patient and their family know that this person is there simply because they truly care and are receiving no compensation for their service. Patient care volunteers come in many forms, shapes, sizes and ages, just like our patients. They can be as young as 14 (with parent permission) or as old as 84 (obviously there is no real upper age limit). They offer emotional support to our patients and their families through dedicating 1-3 hours per week of their time, talents, caring and compassion to meet the needs of others. They can visit with the patient to provide relief to other care givers, run errands for the family, make a meal, send cards, arrange flowers, do yard work, read a book to the patient or perhaps children in the family, play a game, do a puzzle, laugh, listen to stories, scrapbook, walk the dog, do laundry, make phone calls, help the patient write a letter, look at old photos, give a back rub, watch <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">tv</span> or a video with the patient, record memories, set up a bird feeder, empty trash, plant flowers, help with hair care or nails, teach relaxation techniques, . . . the possibilities are endless, but can all be summed up with one word, <strong><span style="color:#ffcc00;"><em>LOVE</em></span></strong>. Volunteers simply extend unconditional love to the patient and his or her family through simple acts of service and caring. </p><span style="color:#ffcc00;"><span style="color:#ffcc00;"><blockquote><p align="left"><span style="color:#ffcc00;"><span style="color:#ffcc00;">In this troubled world, it's refreshing to find someone who still has the time to be kind. Someone who still has the faith to believe that the more you give, the more you receive. Someone who's ready by thought, word, or deed to reach out a hand, in the hour of need. -- Helen Steiner Rice</span></p></span></span></span></blockquote><blockquote><span style="color:#ffcc00;">Too often we underestimate the power of a touch, a smile, a kind word, a listening ear, an honest compliment, or the smallest act of caring, all of which have the potential to turn a life around. ~Leo Buscaglia</span></blockquote><p align="left"><span style="color:#ffcc00;"><em>And what exactly is your role, Bop?</em></span> Good question! Medicare requires that 5% of all patient bedside hours spent by paid professionals - physicians, nurses, chaplains, social workers, and aides are matched with volunteer hours (i.e.- for every 100 hours our employees spend with a patient, our volunteers must also spend 5 hours in service to the patients and families). My role is to educate the community about hospice, then recruit, train, manage, retain, and recognize our volunteers as well as to help conduct bereavement camps or day workshops several times a year for grieving children and teens. I also must coordinate community building group volunteer projects that do not necessarily involve care, but benefit our patients in other ways. These groups could include church or ministry groups, school clubs, civic organizations, scouts or any other group that likes to engage in acts of service for the good of others and they could do things like helping to role patient packs for the nurses to take into the homes that include trash bags and paper towels, knitting lap blankets or slippers, doing yard work or car care, arranging flowers, making cards, etc. almost as limitless as the individual volunteer opportunities but do not involve direct patient care and are done together as a group. </p><blockquote><span style="color:#ffcc00;">Remember that when you leave this earth, you can take with you nothing that you have received - only what you have given: a full heart, enriched by honest service, love, sacrifice and courage. -- Saint Francis of Assisi</span></blockquote><p align="left">In that my work includes publicity and public relations, speaking to groups, administrative duties, teaching and training, event planning (banquets, workshops), a little graphic design and writing (brochures and newsletters), travel and many other things that are necessary to fulfill the goals of my position. On a day-to day basis, I work independently and right now my home office is where I do most of my computer and paper work, but I also function as part of several larger teams, not only the company's volunteer coordinator team, but also the interdisciplinary teams in each county and partnering with each county's community relations director. I think I function best this way, I like to be able to contribute to a larger team to accomplish goals greater than I could ever achieve alone, but I also like to have some freedom and independence. I also love that my work requires a great variety of tasks in a variety of locations as I get more satisfaction from my work when I am able to engage in a variety of activities. All in all, I would never have told you a year ago that I would want to work for a hospice organization, the thought never would have occurred to me, but now I could not think of a better match for my skills set, passions and personal life experiences. </p><span style="color:#ffcc00;"><span style="color:#ffcc00;"><span style="color:#ffcc00;"><span style="color:#ffcc00;"><span style="color:#ffcc00;"><span style="color:#ffcc00;"><span style="color:#ffcc00;"><span style="color:#ffcc00;"><span style="color:#ffcc00;"><span style="color:#ffcc00;"><span style="color:#ffcc00;"><span style="color:#ffcc00;"><blockquote><span style="color:#ffcc00;"><span style="color:#ffcc00;"><span style="color:#ffcc00;"><span style="color:#ffcc00;"><span style="color:#ffcc00;"><span style="color:#ffcc00;"><span style="color:#ffcc00;"><span style="color:#ffcc00;"><span style="color:#ffcc00;"><span style="color:#ffcc00;"><span style="color:#ffcc00;"><span style="color:#ffcc00;">Nearly all the best things that came to me in life have been unexpected, unplanned by me. - Carl Sandburg </span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></blockquote></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span><span style="color:#ffcc00;"><span style="color:#ffcc00;"><span style="color:#ffcc00;"><span style="color:#ffcc00;"><span style="color:#ffcc00;"><span style="color:#ffcc00;"><span style="color:#ffcc00;"><span style="color:#ffcc00;"><span style="color:#ffcc00;"><span style="color:#ffcc00;"><span style="color:#ffcc00;"><span style="color:#ffcc00;"><blockquote><p align="left"><span style="color:#ffcc00;"><span style="color:#ffcc00;"><span style="color:#ffcc00;"><span style="color:#ffcc00;"><span style="color:#ffcc00;"><span style="color:#ffcc00;"><span style="color:#ffcc00;"><span style="color:#ffcc00;"><span style="color:#ffcc00;"><span style="color:#ffcc00;"><span style="color:#ffcc00;"><span style="color:#ffcc00;">None of us knows what the next change is going to be, what unexpected opportunity is just around the corner, waiting a few months or a few years to change all the tenor of our lives. - Kathleen Norris</span> </span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></p></blockquote>Bophttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12138595629734395688noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4448631191276381667.post-72918979848781418052007-12-07T14:15:00.001-05:002008-01-05T08:47:08.937-05:00Extra Ordinary Beginnings<div align="center"><span style="color:#ffcc00;">There are times to cultivate and create, </span><span style="color:#ffcc00;">when you nurture your world </span></div><div align="center"><span style="color:#ffcc00;">and give birth to new ideas and ventures. </span></div><div align="center"><span style="color:#ffcc00;">There are times of flourishing and abundance,</span></div><div align="center"><span style="color:#ffcc00;">when life feels in full bloom, energized and expanding.</span></div><div align="center"><span style="color:#ffcc00;">And there are times of fruition, when things come to an end.</span></div><div align="center"><span style="color:#ffcc00;">They have reached their climax</span></div><div align="center"><span style="color:#ffcc00;">and must be harvested before they begin to fade.</span></div><div align="center"><span style="color:#ffcc00;">And finally of course,</span></div><div align="center"><span style="color:#ffcc00;">there are times that are cold, and cutting and empty,</span></div><div align="center"><span style="color:#ffcc00;">times </span><span style="color:#ffcc00;">when the spring of new beginnings </span><span style="color:#ffcc00;">seems like a distant dream.</span></div><div align="center"><span style="color:#ffcc00;">Those rhythms in life are natural events.</span></div><div align="center"><span style="color:#ffcc00;">They weave into one another as day follows night,</span></div><div align="center"><span style="color:#ffcc00;">bringing, not messages of hope and fear,</span></div><div align="center"><span style="color:#ffcc00;">but messages of how things are.</span><br /><span style="color:#ffcc00;">- <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">Chogyam</span></span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">Trungpa</span></span></span> </div><br />With the arrival of the season of Advent on Sunday, December 2, the beginning of a new liturgical year, I was fittingly off to begin a long awaited new adventure of my own. I love the seasons and cycles of life that provide order and meaning to our days, the peaks and valleys, the days of celebration and sadness. This particular ending and beginning happened so naturally and smoothly, I can attribute it to nothing other than divine intervention. In the beginning of October when I decided my time at my current job was done, that I had fulfilled my purpose there to the best of my ability, I began adamantly searching for new employment. The quality of my work was plummeting because I no longer believed in the mission of the organization. I saw glimpses of myself slipping into becoming a person that I did not want to be, so for preservation of self, I believed I had to move on. I daily checked every online job listing service that I could find as well as our local newspaper. I applied for <span style="color:#ffcc00;"><em>everything</em> </span>that I was even remotely qualified to do and sent out dozens of resumes. With my husband's also recent career change this past summer, my income was, for the first time, vital and essential to our well being, so I could not walk away from my situation without a replacement for that income. I didn't just want a "job" though, I wanted and needed a mission and a purpose, something to which I could feel good about making a valuable contribution, something to help me regain my spirit after experiencing the ills of community that I talked about in my previous post.<br /><span style="color:#ffcc00;"><br /><blockquote><span style="color:#ffcc00;">People have to feel needed. Frequently, we just offer a job and ‘perks.’ We don’t always offer people a purpose. When people feel there is a purpose and that they’re needed, there’s not much else to do except let them do the work. - Maya Angelou </span></blockquote><p></span>November rolled around, up to that point I had gotten no bites whatsoever. No one even remotely expressed an interest. One day (Monday, November 5<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"><em>th</em></span>) I was just distraught and feeling a little empty, I wanted to see and experience the goodness in humanity again. During my lunch hour, after returning to the building from making my regular runs to the post office to pick up the daily mail and bank to make the weekly deposit, I got out of my car and I just wasn't ready to re-enter the building. I was feeling spent. Without forethought or purpose, I wandered onto the trail in the woods that surrounded our building and about midway through the trail I sat down on a bench and just started to cry and cry and cry for no apparent reason <span style="color:#ffcc00;"><em>(As a side note I must convey that I am normally not a particularly emotional person - I usually do fairly well with keeping a balanced perspective on things.).</em> </span></p><p>Then, I began to have a long talk with God, I emptied my heart to Him. I told Him that as much as I was ready to move one, that if it was His will for me to remain there and that there was still work that He needed for me to do and a purpose that I needed to fulfill at that place, that I would indeed stay. But I told Him <em><span style="color:#ffcc00;">I had lost my faith in humanity</span></em> and if I was to be successful, he needed to give me something to hold on to and make that purpose in staying blatantly obvious so that I had something on which to focus and direct my energies. I didn't know what else to say. I laid down on the bench with my face to the sky in an attempt to regain my composure and just take a few minutes to enjoy the sights and sounds of a beautiful fall day in the woods. While I was in that position, I watched as a large <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">pine cone</span> high on the top of one of the nearby trees let go and fell to the earth. In attempts to provide a mental picture - pine cones in coastal South Carolina from our ever plentiful <a href="http://www.auburn.edu/academic/forestry_wildlife/longleafalliance/ecosystem/longleaftree.htm">Long Leaf Pine</a> trees <em>(<a href="http://www.auburn.edu/academic/forestry_wildlife/longleafalliance/ecosystem/longleaftree.htm"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">Pinus</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">palustris</span> Miller</a>) </em>are no small, laughing matter. The trees tower 80-100 ft. in the sky, mostly trunk with a crown at the top and the <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">pine cones</span> are typically 8 - 12 inches in length with an appropriate balance to their girth. This one was no exception. I took this as a sign that it was time for me to go inside, so I walked over and picked up the cone for safe keeping, finished out the trail and headed back to my desk.<br /><br /></p><p><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5144746198419161874" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 295px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 211px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" height="193" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXHl01-JV0iZV05eLyh_WxmErXf8BFjebcjOJKu4BJp6tdbYrlnwxCisazkBj3LeZeyonJQtC4njBAxzdjLK9hIMVbaJtci_LsNVyJlKfwp5T5cO_1ZsJIB0oOU1Y63dhHcDDo_Zo4HgUG/s320/100_1378.JPG" width="283" border="0" /></p><p>The next morning as I was getting ready for work I got a call for an interview. It was the only response I ever got from any of the resumes that I sent out. The interview was to take place the following morning in Columbia, a 2 1/2 hour drive from my home. I had no expectations, I just thought it would be a fun day trip and stress release to get away alone with my thoughts and the road for a while, if nothing else. I was more confident and at ease than I had ever been in an interview -- after all I had just told God that I was willing to stay in my current position, so nothing was really weighing on this moment. I was free to just be the best version of myself. </p><p>During the course of the interview my future boss told me that she had only been in her position with this company a little over a year, but that <span style="color:#ffcc00;"><em>"this job had restored her faith in humanity!"</em></span> Coincidence? I think not! The interview lasted over 90 minutes, at the end of which I was sent home with the training manual and my interviewer was showing me the employee section of their website. Our conversation had flowed easily and we really seemed to "click" however I was told that the following day they would be conducting a few more interviews, one with someone from already inside the company and that they would be making their decision rather quickly, she hoped within a few days. I sent my requisite thank you letter and I waited over a week without hearing anything. I checked with my references - they were never contacted (<em>to this day</em>). I had been excited and energized after the interview, but again I was ready to let go. The next day, (Thursday, November 16<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"><em>th</em></span>) I got "The Call." After making the offer, the HR manager asked if I needed some time to think it over before making my decision. I tried not sound <em>too</em> excited when I expressed, "No, I don't need any time to think it over, I will definitely accept the position." The next day, I gave my two weeks notice. A weight had been lifted.<br /><span style="color:#ffcc00;"><em><span style="color:#ffcc00;"><span style="color:#ffcc00;"><em><span style="color:#ffcc00;"></p><blockquote><span style="color:#ffcc00;"><em><span style="color:#ffcc00;"><span style="color:#ffcc00;"><em><span style="color:#ffcc00;">There is a time for everything,<br />and a season for every activity under heaven:<br />a time to be born and a time to die,<br />a time to plant and a time to uproot,<br />a time to kill and a time to heal,<br />a time to tear down and a time to build,<br />a time to weep and a time to laugh,<br />a time to mourn and a time to dance,<br />a time to scatter stones and a time to gather them,<br />a time to embrace and a time to refrain,<br />a time to search and a time to give up,<br />a time to keep and a time to throw away,<br />a time to tear and a time to mend,<br />a time to be silent and a time to speak,<br />a time to love and a time to hate,<br />a time for war and a time for peace.<br />- Ecclesiastes 3: 1-8</span> </em></span></span></em></span></blockquote><p></span></em></span></span></em></span>Finally, <em><span style="color:#ffcc00;">my time</span></em> had come! Sunday, December 2nd, I entered a new chapter in <span style="color:#ffcc00;"><em>The Life of Bop</em> </span>with a four and a half hour trip to the company's corporate headquarters, two nights stay in a really nice hotel, two days filled with orientation and training sessions, all for an <em><span style="color:#ffcc00;">extra ordinary beginning.</span></em></p><p align="center"><em><span style="color:#ffcc00;">"Every end is a new beginning."</span></em></p>Bophttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12138595629734395688noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4448631191276381667.post-91266892934073003162007-11-30T22:55:00.002-05:002008-02-29T04:36:23.188-05:00Extra Ordinary Community<div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsKIRci6a0y3KlImJlsT6kkYpZlJIR7NlWHRa8CmSOjUlnRId61dCb-3vvT-2osFBgKetfrMXCQvnSI8sNzHXbN62yckGpLL63mW3ofSfNNU0kZxs7r_A_ohQngBU2BCmB9fejD69bXuRl/s1600-h/No+more+visitors+1+2+3.gif"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5172332674067852818" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 208px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 190px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" height="200" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsKIRci6a0y3KlImJlsT6kkYpZlJIR7NlWHRa8CmSOjUlnRId61dCb-3vvT-2osFBgKetfrMXCQvnSI8sNzHXbN62yckGpLL63mW3ofSfNNU0kZxs7r_A_ohQngBU2BCmB9fejD69bXuRl/s320/No+more+visitors+1+2+3.gif" width="223" border="0" /></a> <span style="color:#ffcc00;"><strong>Community has the power to shape or destroy us.</strong></span><br /><div align="left"><br /></div><p align="left">The above thought was taken from a May 17, 2007 blog post by <a href="http://lilianbarger.com/bio"><span style="color:#ffcc00;">Lilian Calles Barger</span></a> (author, speaker and founder of <a href="http://www.thedamarisproject.org/"><span style="color:#ffcc00;">The Damaris Project</span></a> - an ongoing dialog for women on 'how spirituality informs our daily lives and work.') entitled <a href="http://lilianbarger.com/blog/2007-05-16T13:36:31Z"><span style="color:#ffcc00;">No Name Woman</span></a>. In the post she was referring to a story set in rural China by the same title that appeared in a larger work, <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Woman-Warrior-Memoirs-Girlhood-Ghosts/dp/0679721886/ref=pd_bbs_sr_1/102-6382816-8012145?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1179342056&sr=8-1"><span style="color:#ffcc00;">The Woman Warrior</span></a><a href="http://www.amazon.com/Woman-Warrior-Memoirs-Girlhood-Ghosts/dp/0679721886/ref=pd_bbs_sr_1/102-6382816-8012145?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1179342056&sr=8-1"><span style="color:#ffcc00;">: Memoirs of a Girlhood Among Ghosts</span></a> written by Chinese-American author Maxine Hong Kingston. This thought of community having the power to shape or destroy us struck a sharp chord with me when I read it because it is a truth I have known for most all of my life seeing in practice communities both shaping <em><strong>and</strong></em> destroying the lives of their members. It has long been my hope and mission to help create communities that uplift their members and immediately upon reading it, I added the above thought to my collection of quotations and have returned to it time and again in the past six months. Never more intimately in my own life have I known one community to so strongly and passionately do both - shape <strong><em>and</em></strong> destroy - than from what I have experienced and witnessed in the community from which I have now chosen to leave being an active part. </p><span style="color:#ffcc00;"><span style="color:#ffcc00;"><span style="color:#ffcc00;"><span style="color:#ffcc00;"><blockquote><p align="center"><span style="color:#ffcc00;"><span style="color:#ffcc00;"><span style="color:#ffcc00;"><span style="color:#ffcc00;">Great bodies of people are never responsible for what they do.<br />- Virginia Wolfe</span> </span></span></span></p></blockquote></span></span></span></span><blockquote><p align="left"><span style="color:#ffcc00;">The American city should be a collection of communities where every member has a right to belong. It should be a place where every man feels safe on his streets and in the house of his friends. It should be a place where each individual's dignity and self-respect is strengthened by the respect and affection of his neighbors. It should be a place where each of us can find the satisfaction and warmth which comes from being a member of the community of man. This is what man sought at the dawn of civilization. It is what we seek today. - Lyndon B. Johnson</span> </p></blockquote><p align="left"><strong>Community.</strong> Merriam-Webster defines it as follows: </p><p align="left"><span style="color:#ffcc00;"><strong>com·mu·ni·ty</strong></span> <strong>Pronunciation:</strong> <span style="color:#ffcc00;">\kə-ˈmyü-nə-tē\</span> <strong>Function:</strong> noun <strong><span style="color:#ffcc00;">1 :</span> </strong>a unified body of individuals: as <span style="color:#ffcc00;">a:</span> state, commonwealth <strong><span style="color:#ffcc00;">b:</span></strong> the people with common interests living in a particular area; broadly: the area itself [the problem of a large <em>community</em>] <span style="color:#ffcc00;"><strong>c:</strong> </span>an interacting population of various kinds of individuals (as species) in a common location <strong><span style="color:#ffcc00;">d:</span></strong> a group of people with a common characteristic or interest living together within a larger society [a <em>community</em> of retired persons]<strong> <span style="color:#ffcc00;">e:</span></strong> a group linked by a common policy <strong><span style="color:#ffcc00;">f:</span></strong> a body of persons or nations having a common history or common social, economic, and political interests [the international <em>community</em>] <strong><span style="color:#ffcc00;">g:</span></strong> a body of persons of common and especially professional interests scattered through a larger society [the academic <em>community</em>] <strong><span style="color:#ffcc00;">2:</span></strong> society at large <strong><span style="color:#ffcc00;">3 a:</span></strong> joint ownership or participation [community of goods] <strong><span style="color:#ffcc00;">b:</span></strong> common character : likeness <strong><span style="color:#ffcc00;">c:</span></strong> social activity : fellowship <strong><span style="color:#ffcc00;">d:</span></strong> a social state or condition </p><span style="color:#ffcc00;"><blockquote><p align="left"><span style="color:#ffcc00;">If you were all alone in the universe with no one to talk to, no one with which to share the beauty of the stars, to laugh with, to touch, what would be your purpose in life? It is other life, it is love, which gives your life meaning. This is harmony. We must discover the joy of each other, the joy of challenge, the joy of growth. -- Mitsugi Saotome</span></p></blockquote></span><p align="left">Once upon a time in a college English class I was assigned to write a position paper on John Donne's <a href="http://www.online-literature.com/donne/409/"><span style="color:#ffcc00;">Meditation XVII, <em>No Man is an Island</em>,</span></a> arguing either that one could or could not function without being an integral part of our larger humanity. For the most part, I fancy myself a fairly strong-willed, independent, non-conformist that marches to the beat of her own drum. I wanted to argue with every fiber of my being that a man (or woman) could indeed be 'an island,' standing alone. At nineteen I had already been witness to communities doing their shaping and destroying, "I could be a hermit <em>(and a darn good one at that!),</em>"<em> </em>I thought. <em>I was so self-assured at the time!</em> Still today the prospect of a hermitage is my escape fantasy when the world around me goes bad. Then, however, I think of the caring, loving, compassionate people who have in a positive way helped to shape me into the person I've become, the people who have added great value to my life...I couldn't be who I am without their influence. I would most definitely want to take some of them with me - <em><span style="color:#ffcc00;">GRRR! Darn, There goes the hermitage!</span> </em>As far as my college English paper, I ended up so conflicted between my desire to believe that I could indeed be an island and that inner nagging that told me I could not, that I elected to take a zero and simply not write the paper. If I can't do something well (or at the very least the way I would like to, on my own terms) I sometimes refrain from doing it all.</p><blockquote><p align="center"><span style="color:#ffcc00;">"There is no such thing as a "self-made" man.<br />We are made up of thousands of others.<br />Everyone who has ever done a kind deed for us,<br />or spoken one word of encouragement to us,<br />has entered into the make-up of our character<br />and of our thoughts, as well as our success."<br />- George Matthew Adams</span></p></blockquote><span style="color:#ffcc00;"><blockquote><p align="left"><span style="color:#ffcc00;">“Shared grief is half the sorrow, but happiness when shared is doubled.” - Swedish Proverb</span></p></blockquote><p align="center"></span></span></p><p align="left">My passion and my life work has been to contribute to the building of powerful, positive, good, life-changing communities (the kind that can <em>proudly</em> say they make a difference) in whatever form that may manifest itself. Sometimes it has been for pay, many times it has not. Sometimes it has been focused on taking care of the minute details that others take for granted which help to create the whole experience, doing the grunt work; sometimes it has been in envisioning, creating and executing large plans and programs. Most of the time it has been some combination of the two. Making copies or taking out the trash can have equal value to brainstorming and executing program ideas when one sees them all as a part of the <em><span style="color:#ffcc00;">'Big Picture.'</span></em> </p><p align="left">My husband of fifteen years and I live a fairly modest lifestyle (just as an example: we were a one-car family for over 12 years) and were fortunate enough for the fourteen years he was a director of bands for that to be our primary income and for my income (when it existed) to be 'a bonus.' In that I have never had to compromise my integrity for the purpose of making money. I realize that this is a grand luxury many people do not afford themselves. It makes you look at the world differently; it changes the way you think. I still believe in the cliche, <em><span style="color:#ffcc00;">"Do what you love and the money will come."</span></em> So far it has served me well. </p><blockquote><p align="left"><span style="color:#ffcc00;">We are all longing to go home to some place we have never been — a place half-remembered and half-envisioned we can only catch glimpses of from time to time. Community. Somewhere, there are people to whom we can speak with passion without having the words catch in our throats. Somewhere a circle of hands will open to receive us, eyes will light up as we enter, voices will celebrate with us whenever we come into our own power. Community means strength that joins our strength to do the work that needs to be done. Arms to hold us when we falter. A circle of healing. A circle of friends. Someplace where we can be free. - Starhawk </span></p></blockquote><p align="left">When I reflect on the past year of my life, it has been one of great turmoil and change instigated by the hands of 'community,' communities that I <em>had</em> grown to love. <span style="color:#ffcc00;">"<em>Great bodies of people are never responsible for what they do." - Virginia Wolfe</em> </span>At the same time though, there have been small sub-groups, individuals of those communities, who have uplifted and sustained me in my journey. While my husband was a band director, we shared the vision of creating a community in which young people could flourish and grow, teaching leadership skills and team building...the musical contests and competitions were all secondary to the building of better people. The teaching of music and performance skills was simply a tool and venue through which to achieve the end goal of building better people. A small, very negative and very vocal group of people took away his passion and wanted to compromise his vision. He chose instead to step away from his career only half-way through. </p><p align="left">Also in this past year, I had been working for a church under the title of <span style="color:#ffcc00;"><em>"Membership Coordinator"</em> </span>but really doing a job which encompassed many aspects of community building. This was most definitely an example of <span style="color:#ffcc00;"><em>"do what you love and the money will come,"</em></span> as I had begun doing a lot of volunteer work there before being offered a position of employment. This community had transformed my own life for the better in the previous three years by embodying a spirit of Christ-like love. Then, I watched from the sidelines in horror and despair as another very negative, hurting and hurtful group of six people destroyed the life and ministry of their leader, all in the name of doing good. I did the things that I could along the way to attempt to change or stop the snowballing process, but I did not have the power to alter the course of their actions. Now I can only reflect and attempt to learn something valuable from what transpired. My husband was discussing the two parallel situations with one of his current co-workers the other day, to which his co-worker replied, 'the only difference between Christians and non-Christians is that Christians supposedly know better, but act poorly towards their fellow man anyway.' The sad thing is the truth in that statement. Because I have experienced them at their best, belonging to a community of faith has long been a part of my identity, but at times I have been ashamed for the association.</p><blockquote><p><span style="color:#ffcc00;">If men would consider not so much where they differ, as wherein they agree, there would be far less of uncharitableness and angry feeling in the world. - Joseph Addison </span></p><span style="color:#ffcc00;"><blockquote><span style="color:#ffcc00;"></span></blockquote></span><p><span style="color:#ffcc00;">The life I touch for good or ill will touch another life, and that in turn another, until who knows where the trembling stops or in what far place my touch will be felt. -- Frederick Buechner</span></p></blockquote><p align="left">In her <a href="http://lilianbarger.com/blog/2007-05-16T13:36:31Z"><span style="color:#ffcc00;">blog post</span></a> cited above <a href="http://lilianbarger.com/bio"><span style="color:#ffcc00;">Lilian Calles Barger</span></a> communicated, <em><span style="color:#ffcc00;">"</span><span style="color:#ffcc00;">The ability to just get up and leave, or to determine the course of their lives, is one few women in the world know."</span></em> I realize that to have that ability and not take advantage of it would be criminal as I am blessed with living in a nation of relative freedom. The questions I often ask myself when deciding to take leave of a community are <span style="color:#ffcc00;">1.</span> <span style="color:#ffcc00;">Would I any longer invite and encourage another person to become a part of this community?</span> <em>We often tolerate much more in the way of bad behavior ourselves than we are willing to expose others to.</em> and <span style="color:#ffcc00;">2.</span> <span style="color:#ffcc00;">Can I support the message about what it means to be human that the behavior of this community is sending to it's young people or simply the next generation in general?</span> <em>Children are sponges.</em> When the answer to one of those questions comes up "No," I begin a process of serious evaluation. When I get the second "No," I make plans to disengage and leave. </p><p align="left">The difficulty in working with and for communities of people is the ability to keep one's sanity by knowing what one has the ability to change and what one does not. The other difficulty lies in not becoming jaded or callused by the inherent sinful nature of humanity and maintaining a knowledge that good will ultimately prevail over evil. Then, having the ability move onward to find the good. </span></span></p><blockquote><p align="left"></span></span><span style="color:#ffcc00;"><span style="color:#ffcc00;">But the life that no longer trusts another human being and no longer forms ties to the political community in not a human life any longer. - Martha Nussbaum </span></span></p><blockquote></blockquote><p align="left"><span style="color:#ffcc00;">Let us not become weary in doing good, for at the proper time we will reap a harvest if we do not give up. Therefore, as we have opportunity, let us do good to all people, especially to those who belong to the family of believers. - Galatians 6:9-10</span></p></blockquote></span><p align="left">My mind wanders now to the stories of community from classic literature that most of my generation of Americans were required to read in their public school junior high or high school English courses. Most of them are stories of communities gone bad. <span style="color:#ffcc00;">Shirley Jackson's</span> <a href="http://www.americanliterature.com/SS/SS16.HTML"><em><span style="color:#ffcc00;">The Lottery</span></em></a>, <span style="color:#ffcc00;">Arthur Miller's</span> <a href="http://www.novelguide.com/thecrucible/novelsummary.html"><em><span style="color:#ffcc00;">The Crucible</span></em></a>, <span style="color:#ffcc00;">Nathaniel Hawthorn's</span> <a href="http://www.online-literature.com/hawthorne/scarletletter/"><em><span style="color:#ffcc00;">The Scarlet Letter</span></em></a>, and many, many others. I have to wonder did we as a society (or at least a generation) really embrace the lessons we were supposed to be learning from those great works? Isn't that at least one of the reasons they were chosen for "The Required Reading List?" I love the commonality of the human experience, somehow there is comfort in knowing that we are repeatedly experiencing the same the things throughout history, just each generation in our own way and thinking it's new to us. Sometimes though it is frustrating to be a part of it. In pondering these questions of community my husband was quick to recommend <span style="color:#ffcc00;">William Golding's</span> <a href="http://www.gerenser.com/lotf/"><em><span style="color:#ffcc00;">Lord of the Flies</span></em></a>, which he tells me embodies both the good and bad of community at it's best and worst, both shaping and destroying. The English teachers I had never put this one on my "To Read" list, even though some of the others in my school did have it on theirs. Somehow it never made it up to the top of the 'Waiting to Be Read' list on my own either. Anxious to share it with me, he immediately went to our bookshelves to retrieve his copy and now it sits on my bedside table awaiting my reading. </p><p align="left">My husband is also a huge fan of Stephen King's work so needless to say over the Thanksgiving holiday we were at the theater watching <a href="http://www.blogger.com/www.themist-movie.com/"><em><span style="color:#ffcc00;">The Mist</span></em></a>. I am just not a big fan of the horror genre of literature as I can find enough "horrors" in everyday situations without looking too terribly long and hard, but I was game for the experience and actually enjoyed it. If you take away the mist itself and the horrifying creatures that come with it, it too is really just a case study of community and how bodies of people react within crisis situations. I highly recommend watching it from that analytical perspective, if nothing else.</p><blockquote><span style="color:#ffcc00;">We don't accomplish anything in this world alone ... and whatever happens is the result of the whole tapestry of one's life and all the weavings of individual threads from one to another that creates something. - Sandra Day O'Connor<br /></span></blockquote><br /><p align="left">An African proverb says, <em><span style="color:#ffcc00;">"It takes a village to raise a child."</span></em> I have to close with one final thought that has been weighing on my heart. It is the story of thirteen year-old Megan Meier who committed suicide in October 2006, but whose story has recently been brought into the media spotlights again. In a nut shell (or my best attempts at synopsis), Meagan was a fairly typical teenage girl who had a falling out with her friends from down the street. As a result she said some hurtful things about those friends to others at school. Her friends then ostracized her. She went on My Space and met a supposed 16-year old home schooled boy from the same town and developed a growing friendship with him, both her parents were well aware of the friendship. However, it was not really a 16-year old boy, as she had thought, that she was corresponding with, but rather the mothers (Yes - not children, but adult women, mothers) of some of her former friends. The women, obviously not emotionally mature themselves, made up the fictitious boy to "teach Megan a lesson." After the 'two' became close friends, the boy then started to turn on Megan saying hurtful things to her and he began to spread rumors and say bad things about her to all of her other school mates and friends online. 'He' destroyed her self image so much that she hung herself. </p><p align="left">Now here's the really sad part-- others in the community, her friends, people who lived on her street and went to her school all knew about the situation with the fictitious boy through the rumor and gossip mill and no one attempted to stop the adult women from behaving like school children. No one befriended the girl in her time of greatest need. The police of the community said that no crime had been committed, no laws had been broken, therefore there was nothing they could do in the situation. You can learn more about this story here on <a href="http://www.cnn.com/2007/US/11/17/internet.suicide.ap/">CNN</a> or here on <a href="http://abcnews.go.com/GMA/story?id=3882520&page=1">ABC News</a>. </p><p align="left">It leaves me speechless. Communities behaving badly. Again. </p><p align="left"><span style="color:#ffcc00;"><em>Children Learn What They Live</em></span><span style="color:#ffcc00;"> </span>- by Dorothy Law Nolte, Ph.D. <span style="color:#ffcc00;"><br /><br /></span>If children live with criticism,<span style="color:#ffcc00;"> <em>they learn to condemn</em>.<br /></span>If children live with hostility,<span style="color:#ffcc00;"> <em>they learn to fight</em>.<br /></span>If children live with fear,<span style="color:#ffcc00;"> <em>they learn to be apprehensive</em>.<br /></span>If children live with pity,<span style="color:#ffcc00;"> <em>they learn to feel sorry for themselves</em>.<br /></span>If children live with ridicule,<span style="color:#ffcc00;"> <em>they learn to feel shy</em>.<br /></span>If children live with jealousy,<span style="color:#ffcc00;"> </span></span><span style="color:#ffcc00;"><em>they learn to feel envy</em></span><span style="color:#ffcc00;">.<br /></span>If children live with shame,<span style="color:#ffcc00;"> <em>they learn to feel guilty</em>. </span></p><p align="left">If children live with encouragement,<span style="color:#ffcc00;"> <em>they learn confidence</em>.<br /></span>If children live with tolerance,<span style="color:#ffcc00;"> </span><em><span style="color:#ffcc00;">they learn patience</span></em><span style="color:#ffcc00;">.<br /></span>If children live with praise,<span style="color:#ffcc00;"> <em>they learn appreciation</em>.<br /></span>If children live with acceptance,<span style="color:#ffcc00;"> </span><span style="color:#ffcc00;"><em>they learn to love</em>.<br /></span>If children live with approval,<span style="color:#ffcc00;"> <em>they learn to like themselves</em>.<br /></span>If children live with recognition,<span style="color:#ffcc00;"> <em>they learn it is good to have a goal</em>.<br /></span>If children live with sharing,<span style="color:#ffcc00;"> <em>they learn generosity</em>.<br /></span>If children live with honesty,<span style="color:#ffcc00;"> <em>they learn truthfulness</em>.<br /></span>If children live with fairness,<span style="color:#ffcc00;"> <em>they learn justice</em>.<br /></span>If children live with kindness and consideration,<span style="color:#ffcc00;"> <em>they learn respect</em>.<br /></span>If children live with security, <span style="color:#ffcc00;"><br /></span><em><span style="color:#ffcc00;">they learn to have faith in themselves and in those about them.</em><br /></span>If children live with friendliness, <span style="color:#ffcc00;"><br /></span><em><span style="color:#ffcc00;">they learn the world is a nice place in which to live.</em> </span></p><p align="center"><span style="color:#ffcc00;"><em><strong>What are our communities teaching their children?</strong></em></span></p></div>Bophttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12138595629734395688noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4448631191276381667.post-30875847349235041272007-11-16T08:11:00.001-05:002008-01-05T08:48:01.480-05:00Extra Ordinary Life Lessons<div align="center"><strong><span style="color:#ffcc00;"></span></strong><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBCwer_N6tbFosuy63oeduF8D7_lJF41nEQlPUCQcyYYjLk1Rnxug_jIaCjj3zPTeGaFaIdHuicjOb-Q9uStWujdUqxwaoMkpqYYYN4vmnMRvnr2B_CHsOJR42uWOqWkGPW_Ct4cmzvgMI/s1600-h/apple-medium.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5133458667405033634" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBCwer_N6tbFosuy63oeduF8D7_lJF41nEQlPUCQcyYYjLk1Rnxug_jIaCjj3zPTeGaFaIdHuicjOb-Q9uStWujdUqxwaoMkpqYYYN4vmnMRvnr2B_CHsOJR42uWOqWkGPW_Ct4cmzvgMI/s320/apple-medium.jpg" border="0" /></a> <span style="color:#ffcc00;">"Some things you have to do every day. </span><br /><div align="center"><div align="center"><span style="color:#ffcc00;">Eating seven apples on Saturday night instead of one a day</span></div><div align="center"><span style="color:#ffcc00;">just isn't going to get the job done." </span></div><div align="center"><span style="color:#ffcc00;">-- Jim <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">Rohn</span></span><br /></div><br /><div align="left">Well, you may have been wondering what happened after regaining <em><a href="http://extrasinmyordinarylife.blogspot.com/2007/10/attitude-is-minds-paintbrush-it-can.html"><span style="color:#ffcc00;">My Extra Ordinary Vision</span></a></em>. After that post I'm sure one would have thought that they would be hearing a lot more from me, more frequently. If so, you are not alone - I thought so too! I'm not sure how to explain it, but I think I had become a little "gun shy" in sharing that recaptured vision with anyone else - afraid to let them see it, lest they attempt to destroy it. So, I have been busy reconnecting with self and locking my "big picture" into a very strong vault for safe-keeping. I guess that it is time to go back to the very beginning, in <a href="http://extrasinmyordinarylife.blogspot.com/2007/05/lets-start-at-very-beginning-very-good.html"><span style="color:#ffcc00;">one of my earliest posts</span></a> (I think the third one I ever wrote) I proclaimed that to start blogging one has to overcome the fear of not having anything of value to say. I believe this is true for commenting on others' blogs as well, as I had mostly ceased to do that too. </div></div><br /><p align="left">In my 'compose posts' folder I currently have about a dozen started posts saved as drafts, but then somehow I always end up stopping my writing and haven't finished any of them to the point that they actually became real published posts. (This originally was one of those.) The rest of those thoughts are stagnating, stuck there living out their lives in a folder, never maturing beyond a "draft." I need to start over and change that. <a href="http://www.attitudeconcepts.com/timsbio.php"><span style="color:#ffcc00;">Tim <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">Lautzenheiser</span></span></a>, genius and leadership guru for high school band students (for those of you who are new here - my husband was a high school band director for fourteen years), has a saying that he imparts in all of his leadership seminars, <span style="color:#ffcc00;">"You're only worth what you give away and you can only give away what you have."</span> So here I am, back to try and give away what I have acquired.</p><p align="left">I am always fascinated to check my site statistics to see who is visiting and from where, how they got here, what they read and how long they stay. I never cease to be surprised, outright dumbfounded and humbled that someone I have never met (and probably never will) whom I don't even know their name will one day sit at their computer, Google something seemingly random and then stay for twenty or thirty minutes to read some things that I had to say, and then (wonder of all wonders). . . come back again later for more. I always ponder - What was the real impetus for their search? What did they think when their quest brought them here? I respect their silence, as I too am often a lurker, but sometimes I am filled with questions that I wish I could ask them.</p><p align="left">I joke from time to time about my five regular readers, (used to be three -- and yes, I <em>do</em> have a little blog envy problem as my husband's blog has many, many readers) it appears though that slowly but surely, there are other lurkers out there who, if I hadn't checked my site statistics, I would never even be aware that they come and read and then come back for more. It is these miraculous wonders of people that make me feel slightly guilty that I have neglected posting for so long. It is a good feeling to know that someone in Gresham, Oregon or Atlanta, Georgia or <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">Cincinnati</span>, Ohio apparently thinks I have something of value to offer them. A nameless, faceless blogging <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">comrade</span> in Walpole, Massachusetts has even added me to her <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">blog roll</span>. WOW!?! <em><span style="color:#ffcc00;"><strong>How cool is that?</strong></span></em> Upon discovery of this I was extremely excited, amazed, honored, humbled and yes, dumbfounded! She has a wonderful blog called <a href="http://bkclubcare.wordpress.com/"><span style="color:#ffcc00;">Care's Online <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">Book Club</span></span></a>. I am still a lurker there as well, but if you read this you should definitely check out what she has to say. I also get visitors from fun exotic places like the country of "<a href="http://www.brunei.gov.bn/"><span style="color:#ffcc00;">Brunei <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">Darussalam</span></span></a>." I never even knew it existed until now. For those of you who also learn your geography through blogging - this small country is part of the island of Borneo in the South China Sea in Asia. Try Googling them, it looks like a very interesting place. For now, though, whoever you are in Gresham, Oregon, Atlanta, Georgia, <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7">Cincinnati</span>, Ohio and Walpole, <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8">Massachusetts</span> . . . <strong>THANK YOU!!!</strong> Even in your silent lurking you have given me a great gift! This post is here today because of you! </p><span style="color:#ffcc00;"><span style="color:#ffcc00;"><span style="color:#ffcc00;"><span style="color:#ffcc00;"><blockquote><span style="color:#ffcc00;"><span style="color:#ffcc00;"><span style="color:#ffcc00;"><span style="color:#ffcc00;">"There is no sudden leap to greatness.<br />Your success lies in doing, day by day.<br />Your upward reach comes from working well and carefully."<br />-- Max <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9">Steingart</span></span></span></span></span></blockquote><p align="left"></span></span></span></span>For me life lessons usually come not all at once, but in a period of gradual realization that builds over time and then, **boom** I have this fully formed concept that seems so simple and idiot proof, but yet which really took me a long time to arrive it. Stand up comedian, <a href="http://www.stevenwright.com/index.shtml"><span style="color:#ffcc00;">Steven Wright</span></a>, had a joke in his routine once that went something like this -</p><span style="color:#ffcc00;"><blockquote><span style="color:#ffcc00;"><blockquote><p><span style="color:#ffcc00;">I don't have to walk my dog anymore.<br />I walked him all at once. </span></p><p><span style="color:#ffcc00;">We went from Maine to Florida </span><span style="color:#ffcc00;">and then I said, </span></p><p><span style="color:#ffcc00;">"Now you're done."</span></p></blockquote></span></blockquote></span><p align="left">I think our contemporary society sometimes leads us to this type of thinking. I think a large segment of our culture somehow thinks that daily routines of certain sorts are somewhat primitive (and boring) and that we are far too <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10">sophisticated</span> for something so rudimentary today. Instant gratification is sought in so many <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11">arenas</span>. If success doesn't come quickly enough, often interest is lost in doing what needs to be done. On the other hand, one may also think things are going <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12">relatively</span> well in a particular area of life, "I've already achieved a certain level of success here, <em><span style="color:#ffcc00;">phew</span></em>, now I can coast for a while . . . I don't need to pay as much attention to that relationship or area of my health or that project at work. I can rest on my laurels. I can cross that off of my 'to-do' list for a while,". . . but then, somehow things catch up on us and what was going well has gradually gone to shambles without much fanfare or ado, in a way so slowly we were perhaps unaware of the descent until we find ourselves at the bottom of the pit and then wonder how we got there.</p><p align="left">In my own life, I know the greatest successes were achieved when I dedicated myself little by little, inching daily towards my goals. When I was just showing up to do the work that needed to me done and trusting that our Creator will take care of the results. One area of my past history that I often try to keep from most people who didn't know me "when" is that between August 31, 2004 and December 2005 - I lost over 70 lbs. I have an endocrine condition called <a href="http://www.pcosupport.org/medical/whatis.php"><span style="color:#ffcc00;"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13">Polycystic</span> Ovarian Syndrome (<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14">PCOS</span>)</span></a> that makes its victims insulin resistant and usually infertile and causes many other **FUN** little challenges to normal life, among them unexplained weight gain. In my mid-20's - early 30's I would put on 20 - 30 lbs. here and there without the blink of an eye, even thought I ate mostly normally, my body just wasn't processing the foods as it should. It was very frustrating and depressing. It took visiting several different doctors before getting a proper diagnosis and medication for treatment. However, the medicine did not make that much of a difference by it self. It most definitely stopped the weight gain, but it wasn't doing much to take off what was already there. Then in the end of summer 2004, I joined a gym. I was filled with determination that I was going to get my body and health back. I didn't going on some crazy diet, I didn't ban myself from all desserts, . . . I simply went to the gym EVERY DAY - sometimes twice a day and do the work that needed to be done. When I started and couldn't do even 5 minutes on the elliptical machine without thinking I needed to have paramedics on standby. I thought I was going to die. I became <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15">inspired</span> watching the other seasoned regulars, whom also showed up every day. I didn't see any major differences from day to day, but I kept it up and one day I found myself 70 lbs. lighter and burning 1,000 calories in a 70 minute session on the elliptical machine. Then one day I went to Sam's Club and really had to struggle with the cashier to prove that I was indeed the person pictured on my membership card and on my driver's license. She thought I was trying to use someone <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_16">else's</span> card. Personally, I didn't think I had changed all that much because for me it had been so gradual and at the same time I was becoming involved with a new community of people who didn't know the "before" me. Sam's Club ending up making me get a new card with a new picture. </p><p align="left">I don't know why I told this story - it seems like a "bird walk." It most definitely was not my intention as I usually keep a very close guard on the personal details of my life not only in the blog world but the real world as well. However, I sat down this morning and started typing and it just came out. Apparently there is someone who needs to hear that part of my story and I don't know who that is and may never know. So, I guess I will leave it here for all to read. </p><p align="center"><span style="color:#ffcc00;">"I long to accomplish a great and noble task,<br />but it is my chief duty to accomplish small tasks<br />as if they were great and noble." -- Helen Keller</span> </p><p align="left">My husband and I just got back from a four day, three night weekend getaway to the mountains of North Carolina. It was the first we have taken any kind of trip that didn't involve work or visiting family in about 10 years. We always thought we had a great relationship, over the years we have talked about instituting the proverbial weekly "date night" that all the relationship gurus recommend but at times it seemed, we're doing fine, things are great, we don't need to add one more thing to our already full commitments and "to-do" lists. "That's for other people, not us." It is when we are fine and think we don't need to take the time for these daily rituals and things when seemingly all of a sudden months and years pass, then we feel the disconnect and say, man we really should have made that "date night" thing a priority. <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_19">Ooooh</span>, even saying it (<em>date nitght</em>) , my <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_20">sensibilities</span> make me think it sounds "hokey." One of my most inspiring <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_21">bloggers</span>, Mark, at <a href="http://tobeme.wordpress.com/"><span style="color:#ffcc00;">"The Naked Soul"</span></a> recently wrote an amazing post entitled <a href="http://tobeme.wordpress.com/2007/11/12/slow-down-enjoy-the-journey/"><span style="color:#ffcc00;">"Slow Down Enjoy the Journey"</span></a> about our societal views that we must always present ourselves as "busy" and feel <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_22">embarrassed</span> to tell our friends and co-workers that we schedule regular daily time for the refreshment of our souls and/or relationships. Somehow we fear we will be looked down upon as a less successful person. Recently my husband and I made a commitment to harness those small daily pockets of time to reconnect and more importantly a weekly evening to call our own and perhaps a quarterly weekend "getaway" and have made <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_23">respecting</span> them as an equally important commitment a new priority for us. </p><p align="left">Initially I said this post was here because of the lurkers who surprisingly return again and again. But this post is also here because of the two <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_24">bloggers</span> who are my main inspiration and whose dedication to their passions causes me to aspire to be true to my own. They are writers, community builders, connectors, philosophers and deep thinkers. They regularly challenge the thinking of their readers. They already know the simple truth to the benefits of eating one apple a day as opposed to seven on a Saturday. They post nearly every day and I am sure that is the main reason for their blog world success. One day perhaps I can be more like them. Dan at <a href="http://danbrennan.typepad.com/"><span style="color:#ffcc00;">Faith Dance</span></a> and Mark at <a href="http://tobeme.wordpress.com/"><span style="color:#ffcc00;">The Naked Soul</span></a> this post is also here because of you too --<strong><span style="color:#ffcc00;">THANK YOU!!!</span></strong> -- Your encouragement and welcome to me, a fledgling blogger, has been an awesome and incredible gift!</p><p align="center"><span style="color:#ffcc00;">"Forget the former things;<br />do not dwell on the past.<br />See, I am doing a new thing!<br />Now it springs up; do you not perceive it?"<br />- Isaiah 43:18-19 </span></p><p align="left">So my life lesson leaves me <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_25">recommitting</span> to many things on a regular, recurring basis. Join me in the journey...where are you looking for success? Is it through the daily seemingly small things? I'm trying to remember that life is indeed more like a marathon than a series of disconnected sprints. </p><p align="left">I am feeling a little childlike and <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_26">nostalgic</span> today so I will leave you with wisdom from the Rankin and Bass children's television Christmas Classic of the 1970's "<a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0066327/"><span style="color:#ffcc00;">Santa Claus is Coming to Town</span></a>.": </p><p align="left"><em>Sing along if you like, I know I will be!<br /></em><br /><span style="color:#ffcc00;">Put one foot in front of the other<br />And soon <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_27">you’</span>ll be walking cross the floor.<br />Put one foot in front of the other<br />And soon yo<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_28">u’ll</span> be walking out the door.<br /><br />You never will get where you’<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_29">re g</span>oing,<br />If your never get up on your feet.<br />Come on, there's a good tail wind blowing,<br />A fast walking man's hard to beat.<br /><br />Put one foot in front of the other<br />And soon you’ll<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_30"> be </span>walking cross the floor.<br />Put one foot in front of the other<br />And soon you’ll b<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_31">e wa</span>lking out the door.<br /><br />If you want to change your direction,<br />If your time of life is at hand,<br />Well don't be the rule, be the exception.<br />A good way to start is to stand.<br /><br />Put one foot in front of the other<br />And soon you’ll be <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_32">walk</span>ing cross the floor.<br />Put one foot in front of the other<br />And soon you’ll be wa<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_33">lkin</span>g out the door.<br /><br />If I want to change the reflection<br />I see in the mirror each morn,<br />You mean that it's just my election,<br />To vote for a chance to be reborn.<br /><br />Put one foot in front of the other<br />And soon you’ll be walk<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_34">ing </span>cross the floor.<br />Put one foot in front of the other<br />And soon you’ll be walkin<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_35">g ou</span>t the door. </p></div></span>Bophttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12138595629734395688noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4448631191276381667.post-89028025916136953902007-10-03T20:55:00.000-04:002008-01-05T08:48:54.280-05:00Extra Ordinary Vision<div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZMJGAlSCfnvV8o226cEJZZRPicP5ItbJuKl7QiibG8-mCIDo_-G5IvQCT_b81o5W3QBH4xple1QySuF-EE3d6KIQIRGi4uS2ZevKy_Yq2g-9fQliN_rUBaxBE0MSJOtbZITEauMdwdbl-/s1600-h/paintbrush.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5117996391539608690" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZMJGAlSCfnvV8o226cEJZZRPicP5ItbJuKl7QiibG8-mCIDo_-G5IvQCT_b81o5W3QBH4xple1QySuF-EE3d6KIQIRGi4uS2ZevKy_Yq2g-9fQliN_rUBaxBE0MSJOtbZITEauMdwdbl-/s400/paintbrush.jpg" border="0" /></a> <strong><span style="color:#ffcc00;">"Attitude is the mind's paintbrush; it can color any situation." </span></strong><div align="center"><strong><span style="color:#ffcc00;">-- Anonymous</span></strong></div><div align="center"><strong><span style="color:#ffcc00;"></span></strong></div><div align="left">I have worn eyeglasses since I was nine years old and in the third grade, without them I would be legally blind with my "to be envied" 20/400 vision. Legally blind is 20/200 that cannot be improved with corrective lenses. Thankfully mine is correctable to 20/15 with my glasses and I am also grateful that there have been amazing advances in eye wear fashion and science in the last twenty-six years. It seems as though every time I am due to get new glasses, the frames are smaller and the lenses thinner. I tried contacts once in my early twenties, but this was when gas <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">permeables</span> were the only option for people with astigmatism and they were uncomfortable, felt scratchy and I couldn't get used to seeing my face without glasses; so I quickly gave them up and returned to my trusty and comfortable spectacles. They are a friendly and welcome part of my physical identity. I most recently got new glasses this past July ('07), so my prescription is accurate, but since then it had seemed as though my vision had been getting cloudier by the day and I was sure that it was not anything my <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">opthamologist</span> could remedy. </div><br /><p align="left">I jokingly replied to a couple of comments that in September I would have to close down my blog because my monthly postings started out in May with four and then decreased each following month by one (4, 3, 2, and 1 in August). I order to keep up my pattern and be consistent, I would surely have to have zero posts in September. Although it was not necessarily what I set out to do, indeed September came and went with no new posts. Now in trying to reclaim my own <strong><span style="color:#ffcc00;"><em>Extra Ordinary Vision</em></span></strong>, I am breaking the pattern with hopes of "getting back in the saddle again." Somewhere along the way it seems I had lost my vision and with it went my voice. Today is a new day, a new week, a new month, and the start of yet another new beginning. </p><p></p><strong><span style="color:#ffcc00;"><blockquote><strong><span style="color:#ffcc00;">The most pathetic person in the world is someone<br />who has sight, but has no vision. - Helen Keller</span></strong></blockquote><p align="left"></span></strong>I have long fancied myself a "big picture" kind of person with extraordinary vision, but about two months ago I allowed a thief in the night to steal <em>MY</em> big picture and leave me with only an 8" x 10" glossy in it's place. While this can be seen as "the big picture" if you are thinking back to your grade school days and the annual picture packets they would try to get your parents to buy, if go to a typical art gallery or museum and try to find the 8" x 10" picture, you either won't find it all or it will be one of the smallest pictures you see there. Recently, my version of reality was shattered on more than one front. When this happens I have come to realize that the only thing to do is to get down on your hands and knees and just start picking up all of the little pieces and shreds that you can find and try to figure out in which order they belong. If you're really lucky, someone will be there to help you pick them up and hand them back to you in the right order. </p><span style="color:#ffcc00;"><strong><span style="color:#ffcc00;"><strong><span style="color:#ffcc00;"><span style="color:#ffcc00;"><strong><span style="color:#ffcc00;"><strong><span style="color:#ffcc00;"><blockquote><p align="left"><span style="color:#ffcc00;"><strong><span style="color:#ffcc00;"><strong><span style="color:#ffcc00;"><span style="color:#ffcc00;"><strong><span style="color:#ffcc00;"><strong><span style="color:#ffcc00;">Now we see but a poor reflection as in a mirror; then we shall see face to face. Now I know in part; then</span><span style="color:#ffcc00;"> I shall know fully, even as I am fully known. - 1 Corinthians 13:12</span> </strong></span></strong></span></span></strong></span></strong></span></p></blockquote></span></strong></span></strong></span><br /><p align="left"></span></strong></span></strong></span><span style="color:#ccffff;">One of the projects that I was assigned recently for my work was to create the promotional materials for a program that was being launched in our community called "</span><a href="http://www.visionaryparenting.com/"><span style="color:#ccffff;">Visionary Parenting</span></a><span style="color:#ccffff;">." I soon realized that this assignment was really dual purpose for me and it's arrival on my door step was no accident. In the brainstorming phase for this project I began to think about "HOW" we see things and the control factors for "WHAT" we see. In addition to eyeglasses or contact lenses, my mind wandered to binoculars, magnifying glasses, microscopes, telescopes, even those funky 3-D glasses as I tried to identify what had happened to my own vision. I realized that I had just let someone walk off with MY "big picture" and thankfully it made me angry enough to want back, going after it with a <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">vengeance</span>. About 18-24 months ago, I played the lead role in "The Dark Night of the Soul" and this new awakening gave me the determination I needed not to sign on for the sequel. At one point, someone said to me, "I'm sorry I ruined your life." to which I was able to reply, "I'm <em>sorry</em>, you nor anyone else gets that privilege." </span></p><span style="color:#ffcc00;"><span style="color:#000000;"><blockquote><p align="left"><span style="color:#ffcc00;"><strong>"Faith" is a fine invention when Gentlemen can see </strong></span><span style="color:#ffcc00;"><strong>-- </strong></span><span style="color:#ffcc00;"><strong>But Microscopes are prudent In an Emergency."-- Emily Dickinson</strong></span><span style="color:#000000;"><span style="color:#ffcc00;"> </span></span></p></blockquote><br /><p align="left"></span></span><span style="color:#ccffff;">I have had the feeling that quite some time ago God had enrolled me in this graduate level fortitude class without my consent and it seemed as though it would never end. I've been struggling but making passing grades, nonetheless. It's exam time. This week, I got the "blue book." I've been cramming hard, trying to fit all of the pieces of the puzzle together, mentally going over the goal and objective of each lecture and assignment to synthesize them into something coherent to prove that I have indeed "learned my lessons well." As much as I crammed in preparation, the final exam still threw me. I am a person of deep convictions and ideals and it turns out, I still have them. I am prone to standing up for what it is right regardless of the opinions of others. However, the final exam consisted not in knowing what to say, but rather in knowing what not to say. I guess that is ultimately what it has been about the whole time. The essence of fortitude is being so at peace within one's self in having strength of mind to persevere and do what it is right, regardless of the thoughts and actions of others and allowing them to be content in their own place in their own journey, even if ultimately what they are doing is wrong. The second half of this is trusting enough in our creator that regardless of what is said or done He will turn evil to good and ultimately as Job proclaimed when he answered the Lord:</span></p><span style="color:#ffcc00;"><strong><blockquote><p align="left"><span style="color:#ffcc00;"><strong>"I know that you can do all things and that no<br />purpose of yours can be thwarted." - Job 42:2</strong></span></p></blockquote></strong></span><blockquote><p align="left"><span style="color:#ffcc00;"><strong>"Now to him who is able to do immeasurably more than all we ask or imagine, according to his power that is at work within us..." </strong></span><span style="color:#ffcc00;"><strong>- Ephesians 3:20</strong></span></p></blockquote><br /><p align="left"><span style="color:#ffcc00;"><span style="color:#000000;"><span style="color:#ccffff;">I know now that one year from today my life will look absolutely nothing like it does right now nor anything like I expected it that it would. I do not yet know what that will be and I am okay with that. I've got <strong><em>MY</em> BIG PICTURE</strong> back and that's all that matters. I'm putting my telephoto lens back on my camera. When God can take evil and turn it in to something good, I'm okay with not being able to single <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">handedly</span> change the world as I sometimes think I might. The fun of <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">fortitude</span>, I guess, is in silently laughing at those who are all left holding their 8" x 10" glossies, thinking that they've won and knowing that the picture in my mind's eye is far greater than they could ever see.</span><br /></p></span></span><p align="center"><span style="color:#ffcc00;"><strong>Vision is the art of seeing the invisible - Jonathan Swift</strong></span></p></div>Bophttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12138595629734395688noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4448631191276381667.post-30729515806061502772007-08-04T13:08:00.000-04:002020-03-14T11:37:28.398-04:00Extra Ordinary Roots<div align="center">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlx-VbwKtxxLmLja9yK-MN-B-QnNUB2SV5k15WIEAgYCvR2zzTYGtUwE24uTbT-9yFNHAUw0FG8vCs9zGs-5aEYeSIuVEHr2tZdKzQvFSs77MMSXPSE_HRBU21FWxQ9gyrjFEmdvcR3ytR/s1600-h/Homestead+Barn+Silo.jpg"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5095196559357493378" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlx-VbwKtxxLmLja9yK-MN-B-QnNUB2SV5k15WIEAgYCvR2zzTYGtUwE24uTbT-9yFNHAUw0FG8vCs9zGs-5aEYeSIuVEHr2tZdKzQvFSs77MMSXPSE_HRBU21FWxQ9gyrjFEmdvcR3ytR/s320/Homestead+Barn+Silo.jpg" style="cursor: hand; display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;" /></a> <span style="color: #ffcc00;">The hero draws inspiration from the virtue of his ancestors. </span></div>
<div align="center">
<span style="color: #ffcc00;">- Johann Wolfgang <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">von</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">Goethe</span></span></div>
<div align="left">
<br /></div>
<div align="left">
<span style="color: black;">In one sense we are all the heroes of our own stories. In crafting my life story, I do draw inspiration from the virtue of my ancestors. Sunday, July 15<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">th</span> was the annual <em>(as of now though, I am told it will be biennial - a little disheartening since it has been three years since I was last able to attend, and now next year will provide no opportunity)</em> family reunion of my paternal extended family, the family of my maiden name - <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">Knitt</span> - yes, it is Germanic <em>(Prussian actually)</em> and you do pronounce the "K" so in rough phonetics it is "<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">Kuh</span>´- nit, " not knit (as in lower case "k" and only one "t"- like what one does with two needles and a ball of yarn). That is one commonality we have all shared through the years - educating the world on the proper pronunciation of our name. Along with one of my cousins I have helped to compile quite a lengthy genealogical history of our family. My cousin, a freelance historian and genealogist, has done the majority of the research however and I, mostly the compiling, especially before he had a computer at his home, but nonetheless it has been a shared passion. To date we have records dating back to the late 1600's.</span><br />
<span style="color: black;"></span><br />
<span style="color: black;">Johann Friedrich <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">Knitt</span>, who at some point Americanized his name to "John," was born November 29, 1839 in a rural farm area called <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">Schwetzen</span> outside of <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7">Glowitz</span>, <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8">Stolp</span>, <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9">Pommerania</span>, Prussia, which now lies within the present day political boundaries of Poland. On June 12, 1869 just shy of his thirtieth birthday, he set sail for America on the immigration ship <em>The St. Bernard</em> from Bremen, Germany to the port of New York. Upon arrival he traveled further to make his way to the state of Wisconsin where worked for several years as a stonemason in Eureka and Berlin, Wisconsin until August 1875 when he purchased what would become our family's homestead farm in <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10">Larrabee</span> Township. Johann married Henrietta Brandt in February of 1874 and they had five children - three girls and two boys. He was worried that the "<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11">Knitt</span>" family name would die out in America, however, one of his boys, my great-grandfather, Henry, had ten children (eight boys, two girls) and his brother, Otto, had three, two of which were sons. </span></div>
<span style="color: #ffcc00;"></span><br />
<blockquote>
<div align="left">
<span style="color: #ffcc00;"><span style="color: black;">Happiness is having a large, loving, caring, close-knit family in another city. - George Burns</span></span></div>
</blockquote>
<div align="left">
</div>
<br />
<div align="left">
<span style="color: black;">I do not believe that when Johann set sail from Germany in June of 1869 he could have possibly imagined that 138 years later the <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12">Knitt</span> family would be flourishing in the United States as it is today. Nor that he would have the road on which he established his homestead farm named in his honor, "<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13">Knitt</span> Road." Now the households of his descendants number in the hundreds. We are a large and varied family that has spread far and wide, but still we are all united by the same origins, the same roots. As teachers, artists, homemakers, doctors and health care workers, engineers, military personnel, scientists, clergy, missionaries, writers, film makers, bankers, lawyers, athletes, entrepreneurs, researchers, race car drivers, fire, police, and EMT personnel, and yes, still farmers too, as well as many, many, other occupations and great friends, neighbors, citizens, and families. <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14">Knitts</span> are definitely making their mark on history. Knowing where you came from is an important part of knowing where you’re going to. I love the diversity and stability of such a large extended family and the identity it provides. Being a part of this family is one of the first places where I learned to accept and love others for who they are, encourage their strengths and overlook their weaknesses. <span style="color: #ffcc00;"><span style="color: #ffcc00;"><span style="color: #ffcc00;"><span style="color: #ffcc00;"><span style="color: #ffcc00;"><span style="color: #ffcc00;"><span style="color: #ffcc00;"><span style="color: #ffcc00;"><span style="color: #ffcc00;"><span style="color: #ffcc00;"><span style="color: #ffcc00;"><span style="color: #ffcc00;"><span style="color: #ffcc00;"><span style="color: #ffcc00;"><span style="color: #ffcc00;"><span style="color: #ffcc00;"><br /></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></div>
<blockquote>
<span style="color: black;"><span style="color: #ffcc00;"><span style="color: #ffcc00;"><span style="color: #ffcc00;"><span style="color: #ffcc00;"><span style="color: #ffcc00;"><span style="color: #ffcc00;"><span style="color: #ffcc00;"><span style="color: #ffcc00;"><span style="color: #ffcc00;"><span style="color: #ffcc00;"><span style="color: #ffcc00;"><span style="color: #ffcc00;"><span style="color: #ffcc00;"><span style="color: #ffcc00;"><span style="color: #ffcc00;"><span style="color: #ffcc00;">Families are held together by choice. Members are alike and unalike, yet there is comfort in the sameness and excitement in the differences. When we respect and relish both conditions, we can truly call ourselves family. - Maya Angelou</span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span> </blockquote>
<div align="left">
</div>
<div align="left">
<span style="color: black;">In his book, <em>Self Matters</em>, Phillip <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15">McGraw</span> states that everyone can trace who they've become in life (their "life story" so to speak) back to ten defining moments, seven critical choices, and five pivotal people. I first read this book just over five years ago as I was about to turn thirty and first felt the need to rediscover myself. At that point I didn't take the time to do all of the exercises set forth in the book, but they have been one of those things bouncing around in the back of my mind that I think about and ponder from time to time. This is an intriguing exercise from which I think everyone would benefit. I'm still working on unearthing my 10-7-5. The first defining moment in my life that has shaped me into the person I've become, however, was the death of my father, while I was just six years old. This may sound odd, but I view that experience as a blessing because of the resulting gifts that it brought to my life. So, what about those gifts?</span><br />
<span style="color: black;"></span><br /></div>
<div align="left">
<span style="color: black;">For me, the death of my father brought me into a very deep and personal relationship with God, our heavenly Father, at a very young age. Never once did I think, "Who is this terrible, monstrous, heartless God who would take away my dad?" In fact, for me it had the exact opposite effect. It caused me to be drawn to God and I wanted to know everything about Him and His Church. I was fascinated with the concept of heaven because that's where my dad was. Because I was so young, I didn't question the concept of heaven and an afterlife, I embraced it. Even as a college student one of my first priorities in living away from home was to find a church home. I will confess though that at a couple of brief points in my adult life when I have been involved in negative communities that overwhelmed me, I have somewhat neglected my relationship with God and did not do my part in nurturing it as I should have, like a long time, close friend that moves away and becomes involved in their new life in their new city and gradually loses contact with you. In this case, <em>I</em> was the one who moved away, not God. All in all though, my relationship with God that was solidified at such a young age, I can identify as one of the underlying constants and defining factors of my life - he is always with me.</span></div>
<div align="left">
<span style="color: black;">Another gift that I believe was a direct result of my father's death is that I am very in-tune with reading people's underlying emotions and motives and seeing their hurts and pain. I have a great capacity for empathy and accepting people for who they are and meeting them where they are. I forever find myself in the position of being an advocate of those who others are quick to label negatively. I have the ability to see God in most others. I seek out the good where others see bad. I usually recognize the hands and feet and face of Christ in others. I think that this stems from being a six year old and witnessing the extended illness of my father with cancer prior to his death, during, and afterwards as well as the reactions of our immediate and extended family and circle of friends - being a watcher and a listener in an attempt to make sense of the world around me. The children of our family were involved in the whole process, but at the same time when you are six in an adult world, when serious things are taking place, people take for granted that you are involved in your own little world of imagination and play things and are easily diverted, but in reality, when you are six the world is your classroom and you are a sponge soaking in everything going around you. </span><span style="color: #ffcc00;"></span><span style="color: #ffcc00;"><span style="color: #ffcc00;"></span></span><span style="color: #ffcc00;"><span style="color: #ffcc00;"></span></span></div>
<span style="color: #ffcc00;"><span style="color: #ffcc00;"><span style="color: #ffcc00;"></span></span></span><br />
<blockquote>
<span style="color: #ffcc00;"><span style="color: #ffcc00;"><span style="color: #ffcc00;"><span style="color: #ffcc00;"><span style="color: black;"><span style="color: #ffcc00;">From now on, therefore, we regard no one from a human point of view; even though we once knew Christ from a human point of view, we no longer know him in that way. So if anyone is in Christ, there is a new creation: everything old has passed away; see, everything has become new! - 2 Corinthians 5:16-17</span> </span></span></span></span></span></blockquote>
<div align="left">
</div>
<span style="color: black;">The third main gift that I attribute to experiencing my father's death and my resulting life afterwards is that I internalized at a young age that everything in this world is fleeting and life is short. It has greatly affected my value system. I value people and ideals and intangible things like making memories and traditions. I have little use for the material or superficial. What matters is how you treat people. When I listened to Mark Lawrence, the once (and soon-to-be future) Bishop elect for the South Carolina Diocese of the The Episcopal Church, speak this past May while addressing a women's group, I thought he expressed this concept in an analogy that was the best I have heard. It has so stuck with me since then and it comes to mind often. He compared our life experiences to playing a game of Monopoly. He explained to us that he was a very aggressive, take-no-prisoners, passionate Monopoly player and he had tried to pass his love of this board game on to his own children as they were growing up. However, as he would inevitably put all the other players in a position that made a comeback on their part and an attempt at winning seem hopeless, they would one by one give up and walk away from the game and he would be left alone to "put it all back in the box." He may have "won" proving his superior Monopoly playing strategies and skills, but when it's all back in the box and the kids left one-by-one disenchanted, what had he "won" really? He wanted to communicate to us that at the end of this life all the "stuff" which seems so important and consuming, all goes back "into the box." The only thing we take with us in to the next world is our love for others and the way we treated the people with whom we came in contact. </span><br />
<div align="left">
<span style="color: black;">All this is NOT to say that I am any sort of saint. I am not. I sin. I hurt people. I do things wrong. I get angry. I lose my temper. I make mistakes, lots of mistakes - <em>just ask my husband or my mother or... <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_16">hmm</span>... just about anybody with whom I am close...or better yet, ask me, I'm well aware of all my faults and shortcomings. </em>These three things, though, are a part of my roots. They are my equilibrium, the foundation upon which the other aspects of my personality and character are built. When I waiver and stray from these "building blocks of me", as I inevitably do, these are what draw me back in to what and where I should be. They are the gifts God gave me through my father. When I am functioning at my best, these basics about my person are evident to all with whom I come into contact. When I am functioning at my worst, they are the ideals upon which I can focus and to which I strive to return. They give me strength to work through the adversities which cross my path.</span></div>
<div align="left">
<span style="color: black;">My dad, <span style="color: #ffcc00;">Donald Henry <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_17">Knitt</span>, Sr.,</span> is part of my <span style="color: #ffcc00;"><em>extraordinary roots</em></span>. Because I was six, for me my dad never left the superhero phase. I knew deep in my heart that he loved me unconditionally. I had no vision of his faults or shortcomings as perhaps some of my older siblings may. He read to me, every day. He danced with me in our living room. He played games with me. He let me be his helper. I remember having snacks with him after he would cut the lawn. To this day, I love cutting the lawn and the smell of fresh cut grass. It is a simple pleasure for me.</span></div>
<span style="color: black;"><img alt="" border="0" height="267" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5096705557462237362" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjgHEkjHVWw0_rpGcN_s5w6cBj4lvnVx2zAmd_Gzp2b90y3fZJCB2LxvBrLgJj1C8qRDYhpJnUdZIBAShZSy9PdhFUNpiYSbfh4D2wCKNhZrDBAz9YEd8aT-Q0EhHlk3CGL8iW-CRUOy5E/s320/Don+(sr.)+%26+Barb.jpg" style="cursor: hand; display: block; height: 262px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 245px;" width="237" /> </span><br />
<div align="left">
</div>
<span style="color: #ffcc00;"></span><br />
<blockquote>
<span style="color: #ffcc00;"><span style="color: black;">"Honor your father and mother" -- this is the first commandment with a promise: "so that it may be well with you and you may live long on the Earth." - Ephesians 6:2-3</span></span></blockquote>
<div align="left">
</div>
<span style="color: black;">I attempt to honor my father by the way in which I live my life. I try to regularly stop and take a litmus test, re-evaluate and re-group. I want to live in manner in which he would have been proud. Part of honoring my father, is also honoring my father's family. I am proud to be a <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_18">Knitt</span>. Most of my online user names and emails incorporate all of my initials "<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_19">BRKM</span>." The "K" is an important part of the whole, which composes my self-image and identity. Some of being a <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_20">Knitt</span> for me means being a person of integrity, ingenuity and fortitude, honest, passionate, genuine, intelligent, spiritual, generous, resilient, independent, stalwart, pragmatic, practical, determined, staying true to one's beliefs, creative, visionary. These are obviously ideals which are exhibited by different extended family members at different times, and I call upon the strengths of my roots in different situations in which they are appropriate. Having an identity and a connection to my roots though enables me to <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_21">persevere</span> and borrow strength where I otherwise might not be able to do so alone.</span><br />
<span style="color: #ffcc00;"><span style="color: #ffcc00;"></span></span><br />
<blockquote>
<span style="color: black;"><span style="color: #ffcc00;"><span style="color: #ffcc00;">Your Name<br /><br />You got it from your father<br />It was all he had to give<br />And right gladly he bestowed it<br />Its yours as long as you may live.<br />You may lose the watch he gave you<br />And another you may claim<br />But whenever you are tempted<br />Be careful of his name.</span></span><span style="color: #ffcc00;"><br />It was fair the day you got it<br />And a worthy name to bear<br />When he got it from his father<br />There was no dishonor there.<br />Through the years he proudly wore it<br />To his father he was true<br />And that name was clean and spotless<br />When he passed it on to you.<br />- <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_22">Annonymous</span> </span></span></blockquote>
<div align="left">
</div>
<span style="color: black;">One of my dear friends is a deep thinker. This past winter as we were conversing one day, he shared with me an impromptu "homily" of sorts reflecting on the "living stones" of <a href="http://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=1%20Peter%202&version=31">1 Peter 2</a>. He related to me his own <em>addendum</em> to the chapter with the Love of God being the mortar which holds all of us rough <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_23">hewn</span> living stones together into to the body of Christ. I cannot do his homily justice here because he has a beautiful gift for language and words that I do not. I wish I had recorded the moment in time in which he was telling it to me. I do know that I will never look at the gorgeous stone silos built by the hands of my immigrant, stone mason turned farmer, great-great-<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_24">grandfather</span> in the same way. Now in the stones I see the members of my extended family with all of their unique, individual rough edges and cracks and blemishes that make them beautiful individuals, and the mortar the Love of God that holds us together as a family and a"body." Knowing that you have a place to belong, where you are loved, and accepted in an entity that is bigger than yourself, that you can return to at will but are not tethered, gives you strength to blossom and grow as an individual. </span>Bophttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12138595629734395688noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4448631191276381667.post-7827122722283279012007-07-13T12:01:00.000-04:002008-01-05T08:50:01.338-05:00Extra Ordinary Love<div align="center"><span style="color:#ffcc00;">Love is not just to do something for someone —</span></div><div align="center"><span style="color:#ffcc00;">love is not a sort of sentimentality and kissing each other and so on.</span></div><div align="center"><span style="color:#ffcc00;">Love is to enter into covenant —</span></div><div align="center"><span style="color:#ffcc00;">to know that you accept me as I am, </span></div><div align="center"><span style="color:#ffcc00;">that you see my gift, but also that you see my wound.</span></div><div align="center"><span style="color:#ffcc00;">That you won't abandon me when you see my wound,</span></div><div align="center"><span style="color:#ffcc00;">that you won't just flatter me when you see my gift.</span></div><div align="center"><span style="color:#ffcc00;">But you accept me as I am with all that is fragile, </span></div><div align="center"><span style="color:#ffcc00;">all that is broken, all that is beautiful, too. . . .</span></div><div align="center"><span style="color:#ffcc00;">Then the extraordinary thing is we can let down barriers,</span></div><div align="center"><span style="color:#ffcc00;">we don't have to prove, </span></div><div align="center"><span style="color:#ffcc00;">I don't have to pretend I'm better than you are,</span></div><div align="center"><span style="color:#ffcc00;">I</span><span style="color:#ffcc00;">'m allowed to be myself. </span></div><div align="center"><span style="color:#ffcc00;">I'm allowed to be myself because you love me.</span></div><div align="center"><span style="color:#ffcc00;">- Jean Vanier, "</span><a href="http://www.catholiceducation.org/articles/social_justice/sj00196.html"><span style="color:#ffcc00;">Seeing God in Others</span></a><span style="color:#ffcc00;">" </span></div><br />For the present, I work at a church. About a month ago I was required to lead the bi-monthly staff meeting devotional (for the first time ever), a task that at first seemed daunting and intimidating. That is, of course, until I remembered <hee><a href="http://extrasinmyordinarylife.blogspot.com/2007/05/lets-start-at-very-beginning-very-good.html"><span style="color:#ffcc00;">I can paint!</span></a> At any rate my prayer was that the Spirit would speak through me and that my words would be well received. I am not sure how well they were received except by the one person who afterwards made a point of telling me that I did a good job (of course, I had asked her to pray for me regarding it in the preceding days), but nonetheless I was satisfied that I had done my best. The passages that I wanted to reflect on were <a href="http://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=1%20Corinthians%2012%20-%2013;&version=31;"><span style="color:#ffcc00;">1 Corinthians 12 & 13.</span></a><span style="color:#ffcc00;"> </span>Fairly common passages, but usually one reads or hears read either chapter 12 or chapter 13, when really they were intended to go together. I knew what I wanted to say. I knew what I thought our community needed to hear, but I wasn't sure exactly how to communicate it. So, as always, I went to my modern day treasure chest of information, "Google," and I came up with the <a href="http://www.catholiceducation.org/articles/social_justice/sj00196.html">article</a> from which the above quote was extracted and shared some excerpts from it. It is an amazing article, if you have the time, you should most definitely read it in its entirety. Jean Varnier, although newly discovered by me, is a published author of several books that I now look forward to adding to my "must read" list.<br /><br />I have come to realize that to experience this kind of love of which Vanier speaks is indeed a blessing not to be taken for granted. Unfortuantely it is not as prevalent in our world as it should be. I am one of the fortunate who is blessed enough to experience this kind of love within the context of their marriage. The other day I was conversing with a friend with whom I also share this kind of Christian love when I said that <span style="color:#ffcc00;"><em>"Freakin' Wierdo"</em></span> is a term of endearment in our household. I am sure that at first hearing my friend thought this a very odd thing, especially when the response question to that statement was, <em>"Is that a mutual thing?"</em> I laughed. I affirmed that it was, so as not to allow this person to think I was experiencing some form of verbal or psychological abuse, but I did not take the time to give a rough translation of that, although I think it was understood in context. When my husband tells me that I am a "Freakin' Wierdo," I am secretly dancing on the inside because what he means in common English, for which we have created the established shorthand is, "You're not like the rest of the world. You're a free thinker. You're independent. You don't conform to societal and cultural norms. You stand up for what what you believe in and are true to your principles and values,<strong> no matter what</strong>. You aren't easily influenced by the opinions of others. You march to the beat of your own drummer. You approach the world differently. . . and that's what I like best about you! That's what I love!" So, when I do something or relate something that elicits the response, <em>"You're a freakin' wierdo,"</em> <em>(and perhaps the silent or voiced question, "Who else does that???")</em> we both laugh and usually embrace and I know that I have done especially well. . . and my heart sings!<br /><br />One example of our extraordinary love is best seen when we begin a disagreement on completely opposite ends of the spectrum, both firmly entrenched in our stances. As we talk and discuss our viewpoints, after sometimes hours of talking, we love each other so much that we find ourselves having adopted the other's position somewhere along the way, so we end up again at completely opposite ends of the spectrum, just the polar opposite of where we each began, and now trying to convince one another to re-adopt their initial stance because it has become our stance. Then we laugh when we realize what we have done and then we begin to find some middle ground or simply agree to disagree.<br /><blockquote><p><span style="color:#ffcc00;">The moment you have in your heart this extraordinary thing called love and feel the depth, the delight, the ecstasy of it, you will discover that for you the world is transformed. </span><span style="color:#ffcc00;">- I. Krishnamurti</span></p></blockquote><p>However, the love in 1 Corinthians, Chapter 13 (although a popular read at weddings) is not necessarily the romantic, eros love. It is Christian love for another human being, for who they are as a part of the body of Christ, as the end of Chapter 12, after describing the various gifts of the spirit, sets the stage with the lead in, <span style="color:#ffcc00;"><em>"And now I will show you the most excellent way."</em></span> </p><blockquote><p><span style="color:#ffcc00;">If I speak in the tongues of men and of angels, but have not love, I am only a resounding gong or a clanging cymbal. If I have the gift of prophecy and can fathom all mysteries and all knowledge, and if I have a faith that can move mountains, but have not love, I am nothing. If I give all I possess to the poor and surrender my body to the flames, but have not love, I gain nothing. </span></p><p><span style="color:#ffcc00;">Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It is not rude, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres. Love never fails . . . - 1 Corinthians 13: 1-8</span></p></blockquote><p>Our most recent staff meeting devotional was on Romans 12, given by one of the two staff members who were not present for my previous one. Yes, if you are familiar with the passages, you will realize it is a variation on a theme from my own devotional. The message is still one that our community needs to embrace. </p><span style="color:#ffcc00;"><blockquote><p><span style="color:#ffcc00;">Love must be sincere. Hate what is evil; cling to what is good. Be devoted to one another in brotherly love. Honor one another above yourselves. Never be lacking in zeal, but keep your spiritual fervor, serving the Lord. Be joyful in hope, patient in affliction, faithful in prayer. Share with God's people who are in need. Practice hospitality. Bless those who persecute you; bless and do not curse. Rejoice with those who rejoice; mourn with those who mourn. Live in harmony with one another. Do not be proud, but be willing to associate with people of low position. Do not be conceited. </span></p><p><span style="color:#ffcc00;">Do not repay anyone evil for evil. Be careful to do what is right in the eyes of everybody. If it is possible, as far as it depends on you, live at peace with everyone. Do not take revenge, my friends, but leave room for God's wrath, for it is written: "It is mine to avenge; I will repay,"says the Lord. On the contrary: "If your enemy is hungry, feed him; if he is thirsty, give him something to drink. In doing this, you will heap burning coals on his head." Do not be overcome by evil, but overcome evil with good. - Romans 12:9-21</span></p></blockquote></span><p>This week's devotional leader started the meeting, prior to introducing the Bible passage, by having each staff member in turn, tell some key facts about themselves (that were listed in advance) that we might not otherwise have known about one another and then answer the question, <span style="color:#ffcc00;"><em>"If you could change one thing about the world, what would it be?"</em></span> There were a few extremely lofty change goals listed around the table along with a couple of realistic items. My own desire for change in the world was that people would focus on truly seeing God in others and looking for and encouraging a person's gifts, rather than focusing on a person's weaknesses and transforming a person's life through Christ-like love, rather than attempting to change a person through punitive efforts to correct or reform another's faults or shortcomings. </p><p><span style="color:#ffcc00;">Extraordinary Love</span> changes things! In my present situation of such a huge life change from the outside, what matters most is that nothing really changes on the inside: I unconditionally love my husband and he unconditionally loves me. As long as that love remains, together, we can conquer anything; everything else is just icing on the cake. This is not to say that our marriage is a fairy tale, with nothing but bliss. Sometimes we disagree, we don't see things eye to eye, we exchange unkind words, we make each other cry (and not always tears of joy). We are human. We sin, but we also forgive one another and ourselves. Love is the foundation of our relationship. If some of the bricks crack or fall out of place because they were laid improperly, we can take them out and replace them with new ones as long as our foundation is secure. <span style="color:#ffcc00;">Extraordinary Love</span> is authentic and genuine. I can always be completely open and honest with my husband, I don't have to pretend to be or think or feel anything that I am not or do not, nor does he with me. Usually we know one another so well that it is impossible to do so anyway, as the smallest of gestures or movements or sounds speak volumes. </p><blockquote><span style="color:#ffcc00;">"As the Father has loved me, so have I loved you. Now remain in my love. If you obey my commands, you will remain in my love, just as I have obeyed my Father's commands and remain in his love. I have told you this so that my joy may be in you and that your joy may be complete. My command is this: Love each other as I have loved you. Greater love has no one than this, that he lay down his life for his friends. - John 15:9-13</span></blockquote><p>To be able to freely give and receive this type of Christ-like love in a marriage, a friendship, a familial relationship, or just with an acquaintance or someone you meet on the street, has the power to change the world. The question is not<em><strong> if</strong></em> you will make an impact on the lives of others that one comes into contact with, the question is <em><strong>what kind of impact will one make?</strong></em> There are those who fear the power of this type unconditional love that it will "enable" a person to continue with negative behaviors, if they are not focusing directly on prohibiting the negative behavior. I disagree. <span style="color:#ffcc00;"><em>"Never let a problem to be solved become more important than a person to be loved." - Barbara Johnson</em></span></p><p align="center"><span style="color:#ffcc00;">I have never met a person whose great need<br />was anything other than real, unconditional love.<br />You can find it in a simple act of kindness<br />toward someone who needs help.<br />There is no mistaking love. You feel it in your heart.<br />It is the common fiber of life, the flame of that heats our soul,<br />energizes our spirit and supplies passion to our lives.<br />It is our connection to God and to each other.<br />- Elizabeth Kubler-Ross</span></p>Bophttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12138595629734395688noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4448631191276381667.post-4310132440774351862007-07-08T22:10:00.000-04:002008-01-05T08:54:37.261-05:00Extra Ordinary Grace<p align="center"><span style="color:#ffcc00;">Grace is available for each of us every day - our spiritual daily bread -<br />but we've got to remember to ask for it with a grateful heart<br />and not worry about whether there will be enough for tomorrow.<br />- Sarah Ban Breathnach</span></p><p>Grace comes in many forms. When I was a young teenager in Lutheran confirmation class, I was taught to remember the meaning of "grace" through the mnemonic device of an acronym:<br /><span style="color:#ffcc00;"><span style="color:#ffcc00;"><span style="color:#ffcc00;"><span style="color:#ffcc00;"><span style="color:#ffcc00;"><span style="color:#ffcc00;"><span style="color:#ffcc00;"><span style="color:#ffcc00;"></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></p><span style="color:#ffcc00;"><span style="color:#ffcc00;"><span style="color:#ffcc00;"><span style="color:#ffcc00;"><span style="color:#ffcc00;"><span style="color:#ffcc00;"><span style="color:#ffcc00;"><span style="color:#ffcc00;"><blockquote><span style="color:#ffcc00;"><span style="color:#ffcc00;"><span style="color:#ffcc00;"><span style="color:#ffcc00;"><span style="color:#ffcc00;"><span style="color:#ffcc00;"><span style="color:#ffcc00;"><span style="color:#ffcc00;">G - God's<br />R - Riches<br />A - At<br />C - Christ's<br />E - Expense</span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></blockquote></span></span></span></span></span></span><p></span></span>It is one of those little tidbits of information that you store away in the filing cabinets of your mind for future reference and add it to the "general knowledge" folder...but in actuality it does little to help a person fully grasp and understand the concept behind the word. I am no longer Lutheran (that is a story for another day), but one of the local Lutheran churches in our area has given out blue bumper stickers with white letters that simply read, "<span style="color:#ffffff;"><strong>GRACE Happens</strong></span>." I usually find myself behind one of these cars in traffic when I most need to be reminded of that fact and I think that, in and of itself, is an act of grace. Grace is not a concept that the average teenage confirmand can really, truly understand. Grace is something that does, <em>just happen</em>. Grace is something that one who has a relationship with our Saviour experiences through the trials and tribulations of life. We don't earn it or deserve it, but when we need it most, God knows, and it is there!</p><p>I have alluded to my impending life changes in several of my previous posts, and because I have experienced God's grace in the last week or so, I can talk about it more freely now where I was previously without words. Regarding my present life situation, I said to a friend two weeks ago, <span style="color:#ffcc00;">"There's a fine line between courage and crazy and only by the grace of God will we (my husband and I) end up on the right side of that line." </span>To which she responded, <span style="color:#ffcc00;">"BTW, it takes both...Courage AND Crazy!"</span> I have asked several people that I feel close to to pray for me in the preceding weeks, when I have at times been without words to pray for myself. If someone were to ask me today, however, I think I would confidently say that yes, we will end up on the right side of that line. </p><blockquote><span style="color:#ffcc00;">Faith is a living, daring confidence in God's grace, so sure and certain that a man could stake his life on it a thousand times. - Martin Luther</span></blockquote><p>On the eighth of June, my husband, who has been a high school band director for the past fourteen years, fifteen really, if you count his student teaching and substitute teaching (he was a December graduate) before he landed his first full time position, announced to me that he was going to resign from his job and not just his job in the sense of his present position, but in the sense of changing careers. This was not a complete surprise as it has been an extremely difficult year in working with his parent organization or less aptly named "Booster Club," as they have done little to actually "boost" the organization and in several cases have actually hindered the program this year. I choose, however, in my post here not to focus on all of the minutiae that lead to this decision but rather on my reactions to it as it is not my story to tell. If you are interested to know, as Paul Harvey announces over the radio airwaves, "The Rest of the Story," you may read <a href="http://gazing-into-the-abyss.blogspot.com/">my husband's blog</a> as he is chronicling what he calls his mid-life journey. As a side note here and brief commercial: he is an excellent writer and his blog, just two and a half weeks old, has already developed quite a global following and community of readers and he has received the "Thinking Bloggers Award" and the "Blogging Community Involvement Award," so check it out sometime. </p><p>Needless to say, my initial reaction to this announcement (even though we had talked about the possibility in vague generalities in the past few months) was shock, fear, anger - not at my husband, but at the people who have made his chosen life career something which he no longer loves -, distraught. Phew! None of those emotions are desirable to experience. My thoughts went to mortgage payments, health insurance, gas for our car, food, all of those things which cost money, money we would have much less of now. Up until this point the income from my 32 hour a week job had been a bonus, not something upon which we were dependent. Now looking at the possibility of it being our only income, it will not meet all of our financial needs alone. He told me that he strongly felt that God was calling him away from his current work so that he would be able to do something else, but he does not know what that something else is yet. As a result our living room and bedside table quickly became littered with such books as:</p><ul><li><a href="http://www.jonesbrehony.com/AwakeningProposal.PDF" target="_new">Awakening At Midlife - Kathleen A. Brehony</a> </li><li>Find Your Purpose, Change Your Life - Carol Adrienne </li><li>Finding Your Own North Star - Martha Beck</li><li><a href="http://www.andreakay.com/books.htm" target="_new">Life's a Bitch and Then You Change Careers - Andrea Kay</a> </li><li>Practical Intuition - Laura Day </li><li><a href="http://www.rockportinstitute.com/pathfinder.php">The Pathfinder</a> - Nicholas Lore</li><li><a href="http://www.welcometoyourcrisis.com/" target="_new">Welcome To Your Crisis - Laura Day</a> </li><li>When Life Changes or You Wish It Would - Carol Adrienne </li></ul>Then he asked me one of the more difficult requests of our married life, "Can you please give me two weeks to just work through this on my own, without any input, and then, when I am ready, I'll invite you back into the process?" As scary as that was, I said, "Yes, I can do that," and I left the discernment process to be simply between my husband and the Lord.<br /><br />On Wednesday, <a href="http://extrasinmyordinarylife.blogspot.com/2007/06/extra-ordinary-change.html">June 13</a>, I awoke with the words of <a href="http://extrasinmyordinarylife.blogspot.com/2007/06/extra-ordinary-change.html"><span style="color:#ffcc00;">Matthew 6:25-34</span></a> on my tongue. It was the first I had really begun to feel any sense of God having a say in all of this, but still I was not completely convinced. On Tuesday, June 26, while working (during my daily drive back from picking up the office mail), I was not really thinking about any of this at all when all of the sudden I just got a complete sense of peace about what was about to occur. I don't know where it came from other than the grace of God, but I was soon to find out why. Later that day, my husband met with a friend he considered to be "wise counsel," the first he had really invited anyone in to the discernment process and two hours later, he was pretty convinced of his decision - to resign from his career. I know that God gave me that peace because now I would need to be a strong support and a "soft place to fall." Since that time I have really felt no fear, apprehension, nor anything other than "This is what we are supposed to be doing." Ironically, my husband has since, through the process of drafting his resignation letter and cleaning out 14 years of accumulated stuff (eight at his present location), acquired some fear and apprehension of his own and I have been able to be the one who can say, "It's all going to work out. It's okay. You are doing the right thing."<br /><br /><span style="color:#ffcc00;">Grace Happens!</span> It happens when you least expect it. I don't know yet where we are going or what we will be doing three or even six months from now, but I know that God will be with us, and that's all I need to know, for now. I am beginning to even experience a sense of adventure, new beginnings offer new hope and new possibilities and new opportunities, <em>right?</em><br /><span style="color:#ffcc00;"><br /></span><blockquote><span style="color:#ffcc00;">"Therefore I tell you, do not worry about your life, what you will eat or drink; or about your body, what you will wear. Is not life more important than food, and the body more important than clothes? Look at the birds of the air; they do not sow or reap or store away in barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not much more valuable than they? Who of you by worrying can add a single hour to his life?" - Matthew 6:25-27</span></blockquote>Bophttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12138595629734395688noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4448631191276381667.post-19946463177224259812007-06-25T06:28:00.000-04:002008-01-05T08:53:52.280-05:00Extra Ordinary Heroes<div align="center"><span style="color:#ffcc00;">Real heroes are men who fall and fail and are flawed, </span></div><div align="center"><span style="color:#ffcc00;">but win out in the end </span><span style="color:#ffcc00;">because </span><span style="color:#ffcc00;">they've stayed true</span></div><div align="center"><span style="color:#ffcc00;">to </span><span style="color:#ffcc00;">their ideals and beliefs and commitments. </span></div><div align="center"><span style="color:#ffcc00;">- Kevin Costner</span></div><br /><div align="center"><span style="color:#ffcc00;"></span></div>I have spent the past two weeks focusing most of my waking hours helping to get ready for and execute our church's Vacation Bible School (VBS) Program. The first of the past two weeks was spent in final preparations and finishing all of the decorations and backdrops, the later was the actual week of VBS with over sixty children participating. I was one of two women in charge of the crafts station. I love VBS! I always look forward to it as one of my favorite weeks of the year. Perhaps that is because I cannot have any children of my own and relish any opportunity I can to share in the lives of other people's children. To be able to see the world through the eyes of a child is an amazing gift. Anyway, this year's theme was sports - <a href="http://s82.photobucket.com/albums/j267/brkm13/Resurrection%20VBS%202007/">"Game Day Central: Where Heroes Are Made!"</a> According to our VBS lesson plans <span style="color:#ffcc00;">"True Heroes":</span><br /><br /><ol><li><span style="color:#ffcc00;"><em>Obey God even when it's not easy.</em></span> </li><li><span style="color:#ffcc00;"><em>Do their best in everything.</em></span> </li><li><span style="color:#ffcc00;"><em>Believe in Jesus and follow God's plan.</em></span></li><li><span style="color:#ffcc00;"><em>P</em></span><span style="color:#ffcc00;"><em>ut others first.</em></span></li><li><span style="color:#ffcc00;"><em>Tell others about Jesus.</em></span></li></ol><p>Last year was my first year helping out with VBS at my current church after a several year personal VBS hiatus. In my thank you gift from the director (a small book) she wrote, "You are one of the most amazing people I know! Your gifts and abilities are evident in so many areas and I thank you so much for your extraordinary help and support and leadership." My inital reaction to this was, "If <em>I</em> am one of the most amazing people she knows, it's definitely way past time for her to go out and meet more people!" I am just a person who says they don't like pie when there isn't enough to go around. </p><span style="color:#ffcc00;"><blockquote><span style="color:#ffcc00;">We relish news of our heroes, forgetting that we are extraordinary to somebody too. - Helen Hayes</span></blockquote></span><div align="center"><span style="color:#ffcc00;"><blockquote><div align="left"><span style="color:#ffcc00;">A boy doesn’t have to go to war to be a hero; </span><span style="color:#ffcc00;">he can say he doesn’t like pie when there isn’t enough to go around.</span> <span style="color:#ffcc00;">– Edgar Watson Howe, American Journalist and Author</span></div></blockquote></span></div><p>Needless to say, all of this has gotten me to think about the <span style="color:#ffcc00;">"Heroes"</span> in my own life...who they are, what defines them as people, why I admire them so much and how the examples of their lives sustain me in my own and have shaped me as a person. Amidst all of my current life changes, part of defining my heroes, I think, is to re-establish those roots which will give me the necessary continuity to support this new growth. </p><p>Here are my thoughts on <span style="color:#ffcc00;">"</span><span style="color:#ffcc00;">Amazing People"</span> - Amazing people are not flawless, all of humanity has faults and short-comings - just different ones. Depending on our perspective we see the rest of the world as having either many more or much fewer problems that our own, but I believe that God is the original designer of the "No Child Left Behind" concept (Unlike the system created by our current U.S. public education bureaucracies though, His plan is flawless). He has created a unique set of challenges for each us, our own personalized "life curriculum" so to speak. Amazing people earn that title (in my book) not by being flawless but by how they respond to the work of God in their lives, how they view and respond to the world around them, and how they view and respond to the unique sets of challenges that God gives to each of us as exercises in becoming the people he created us to be. </p><p>I decided to dedicate some time to reflecting on the <em><span style="color:#ffcc00;">Extra Ordinary People</span></em> in my life that I call <span style="color:#ffcc00;">"Heroes."</span> Today's hero is Karl Bader. In the picture below we are dancing at the wedding reception of a mutual friend - Karl is, of course, the fifty-something man and I am the little girl of seven or eight. </p><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5079964561028551586" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 216px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 302px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" height="286" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOQaIw5kwraOc4C3-8SXI2ti4_og0X72vJzuAlFT-mJ0dvu9-2PYcnjUvJz-7_xghHoj2SMwX-IEkp2rgOoXPCUtq1yfC1u9GCnYfx8weD3-BlnTChkph9HAelhtIPQ_3CJ9ETNxQfwx1p/s320/Karl+Bader.jpg" width="207" border="0" />I will highlight my heroes in no particular order, but as one of the changes that I am staring in the face is the prospect of selling our modest, cookie-cutter suburban house that my husband and I had built four years ago and returning to apartment living (which we haven't done since we moved to our first <em>rented</em> house in July of 1993), I think of Karl and find comfort in knowing that the "American Dream" doesn't have to be about owning property and a house.<br /><br /><p><span style="color:#ffcc00;">Karl E. Bader was an <em>extraordinary</em> man</span><span style="color:#ffcc00;">.</span> He was born August 08, 1926 in Stuttgart, Germany and as a teenager was required to serve in Hitler's Nazi army during World War II. After the war, the conditions in Germany were so terrible that he decided to immigrate to the United States, by way of Canada. At the age of twenty-five in 1952, he immigrated to Niagara Falls, Ontario, Canada where he rented a single room in a boarding house and worked as a brick layer although by profession he was an architect. It was a very difficult time to be a German immigrant in the post-World War II era. He later sent for his wife to join him and they had their first son while still living in the rented room of the boarding house. Eventually they had a second son and moved to a small apartment. In 1959, they completed their migration to America and came to make their permanent home in the Greater Buffalo Area in New York State where he began working as an architect and a few months later joined a well-respected architectual firm in Williamsville, NY and made a 31-year career there and they became United States citizens. </p><p>Although I thought the biographical details were somewhat of a pre-requisite, they do little to tell the story of what earns Karl the title of "Hero," that comes from the quiet way in which he lived his life. Although a successful architect who could have easily made home ownership a reality for his family, he made a conscious, deliberate choice to live out the majority of their days in a rented apartment. He did not want to be consumed with property ownership and all that that entails. On days that weather permitted, he chose to commute by bicycle as opposed to car. Karl started every day by going to his church to pray before going to work or anything else. </p><p>Karl was a man who had the ability to see and foresee needs in the lives of others and in the community around him and then quietly went about helping to meet those needs. He touched and changed lives every day without any fanfare or recognition. He truly was Christ-like in his caring for others. He was filled with an inner joy that only comes from knowing our Lord on a personal level. During his career the main thrust of his work was on the design of rehabilitation projects and additions for many local school districts as well as some fire halls and branch banks. He was also instrumental in the design and overseeing of a major wing added to the <a href="http://www.niagaralutheran.org/nlhs.asp">Niagara Luthern Home and Rehabilitation Center</a> in Buffalo and served for many years on their Board of Directors, being elected it's president in 1991.</p><p>In my own life, my father died less than two months after my sixth birthday. Karl was one of the many men in my wider circle of extended family and family friends who served as a strong male role model during my formative years. Karl and his family attended the same church as my own family and along with six other families - the Lawlers, the Hoffs, the Barenthalers, the Simmonses, (and later after the Simmonses moved away) the Belzes and the Dryers, we composed "The Family Life Committee" that was in charge of not only the weekly coffee hour, but planning and executing all of the parish dinners and fellowship events throughout the year. For all of the 1970's and most of the 1980's this group of people was more than a "committee" - they laughed together, played together, cried together and prayed together both inside and outside of the church. They shared each others' joys and burdens. These were the type of friends who really could call upon one another at 2:30 in the morning, if a need arose. If they were analyzed by modern-day, formalized church growth strategists, they would have probably been labeled a "small group." All of my adult life I have been longing to find that kind of relationship and friendship that was shared by those adults in that time. Oh, how I envy what they had! However, I am not so sure such friendships are an achieveable goal in today's contemporary society and culture.</p><p><span style="color:#ffcc00;">"Baaarrrrb,"</span> I can still hear him say in his thick, gutteral German accent, accompanied by a big, bear hug. I cannot reproduce it, but I can hear it in my head. He always made it a point to spend some time in conversation with me each week after the worship service and even as a child he would ask me intelligent questions and really listen to my answers. He made me feel important. One of my fondest childhood memories is going to the Bader's home (yes, it was a small apartment, but it was still very much a "home" in every sense of the word) on Christmas Eve between the worship services and it was filled with good scents, sounds and visions. His wife, Isolde, would make every kind of German Christmas cookie imaginable as well as some German soft-pretzels and they would have a fresh, live Christmas tree lit with small, real burning candles placed in special holders on the boughs (Karl loved to amaze his friends by placing one of the boughs in the flame to prove that a fresh, well-watered tree would not burn). All of their closest friends and those who had no other other place to share in the joy of the holiday season would gather in their small living/dining room just about elbow to elbow and share in fellowship and sing Christmas Carols from booklets that Karl had put together - typed up the words and photocopied (although I guess it was mimeographed in those days, <em>remember the "pretty" mimeograph blue?)</em> and stapled together and we would all sing out in hearty, harmonized, a cappella voices.</p><p>When I think of adjectives to decribe Karl Bader, some that come to mind are intelligent, humble, compassionate, prayerful, generous, righteous, understanding, empathetic, genuine . . . In the words of my sister, Patti, "a true reflection of God." I don't know - to attempt to describe in words would be in some way boxing and labeling and I believe one just cannot do that with people. It is so limiting. Although I strongly believe in the power of words and this blog is somewhat dedicated to that power of words, there are still some places that even words cannot go, some things that remain unexpressable. So, I will leave you with this quote I found:</p><blockquote><span style="color:#ffcc00;">People ask me to describe a hero, I often fail at it. You see words are hollow things, they carry small meaning. Words lack the substance to do a real hero full justice. Real heros must be watched and seen to be understood. We see and hear about all of the people portrayed as heros - sports heros, entertainment heros, media heros, and so on, people whose charmed arrogance is just under the shine. Words and adjectives can describe these people with ease. They are not true heros and never could be, they are void . . . - </span><a href="http://members.aol.com/KBone91/hero.html"><span style="color:#ffcc00;">Keith Howerton (Jacob's Dad)</span></a></blockquote><p>Karl died in May of 1996 at the age of 69 of <a href="http://www.alsa.org/als/what.cfm">ALS - Amyotrophic Lateral Sclerosis </a>(more commonly known as "Lou Gherig's Disease") -- his funeral was standing room only. I have been to a lot of funerals in my thirty-five years, but only two others were standing room only. <span style="color:#ffcc00;"><em>To live one's life in such a way that your funeral is "standing room only" - that's what it's all about! </em></span></p>Bophttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12138595629734395688noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4448631191276381667.post-74663212041599558472007-06-13T07:57:00.000-04:002008-01-05T08:53:04.412-05:00Extra Ordinary Change<div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSyLwR3es8SeVgNlwa9EtuS85dRkpubsG9dJuVrYKaN4WcDKa3ixEsAZxURYsqImC_fxMNuM27CMCOsao8se-EOYSgmzte6TeAiaRoUnnHkIK1RDGTa-Pbm_ZfO_uMA_Aw1viVBgZdaYuG/s1600-h/butterfly.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5075518136005825410" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSyLwR3es8SeVgNlwa9EtuS85dRkpubsG9dJuVrYKaN4WcDKa3ixEsAZxURYsqImC_fxMNuM27CMCOsao8se-EOYSgmzte6TeAiaRoUnnHkIK1RDGTa-Pbm_ZfO_uMA_Aw1viVBgZdaYuG/s320/butterfly.jpg" border="0" /></a> <em><span style="color:#ffcc00;">If nothing ever changed, there'd be no butterflies. ~Author Unknown</span></em></div><p></p><p>I remember the day I took this picture. It was a Sunday afternoon this past October (2006) when I felt the first sting of the winds of change blowing upon my face; in comparison to what I have experienced since then, however, these were nothing. In fact I even welcomed the breeze after a long, hot summer! For the past fifteen years, Octobers have mostly been an auto-pilot blur for my husband and I due to the nature of the work he has been doing and for all but this past one, the work I had been doing with him. This October (with my husband's blessing) I stepped out on my own adventure and began a new work or at least a work in a new place. Still though, October, as always, was a stressful month. In an attempt to divert some of that stress, the one Sunday in which I took the picture above, we each realized the need for some alone time and connect with God time. My husband took off for the afternoon to "do his thing" and I grabbed the camera to have the rare (for me) opportunity to capture the beauty of God's <a href="http://s82.photobucket.com/albums/j267/brkm13/Carolina%20Autumn/">autumn showcase</a>, with a limited showing. I don't have very much formal training or education in art, but I do okay I guess (or at least people tell me that I do). There are many things that I wish I could do better in expressing the pictures that are in my mind's eye but I do not yet have the skills to do so. The important thing for me though is that I have found my attempts at creative expression to be my time alone communing with God. I really feel as though when I am involved in a work of creative expression that I am a mere conduit for God exercising his gift to the world. It is also a time when God speaks to me, we have long conversations like two old friends. When I am involved in creative expression, I lose myself and my problems, and time stands still.</p><div align="left">Last night I went to bed in one of my bouts of despair regarding all of this imminent change, fear about the tomorrows yet unseen, but this morning somehow, I awoke with hope. If you have been praying for me, thank you!!! thank you!!! thank you!!! beyond measure!!! The words that were on my lips as I rolled out of bed this morning were from Saint Matthew 6:25-34 ~ </div><div align="left"></div><div align="left"><span style="color:#ffcc00;"><blockquote><span style="color:#ffcc00;">"Therefore I tell you, do not worry about your life, what you will eat or drink; or about your body, what you will wear. Is not life more important than food, and the body more important than clothes? Look at the birds of the air; they do not sow or reap or store away in barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not much more valuable than they? Who of you by worrying can add a single hour to his life?<br /><br />"And why do you worry about clothes? See how the lilies of the field grow. They do not labor or spin. Yet I tell you that not even Solomon in all his splendor was dressed like one of these. If that is how God clothes the grass of the field, which is here today<br />and tomorrow is thrown into the fire, will he not much more clothe you, O you of little faith? So do not worry, saying, 'What shall we eat?' or 'What shall we drink?' or 'What shall we wear?' For the pagans run after all these things, and your heavenly Father knows that you need them. But seek first his kingdom and his righteousness, and all these things will be given to you as well. Therefore do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own." </span></blockquote></div><div align="left"></div></span><div align="left">Oh, okay so I answer one of my own questions....uncertainty and trust can really not co-exist! I did know that on an intellectual level somewhere in the back of my head, but I wasn't to that point yet in this particular journey. A friend asked me the other day after I had shared a little bit of my concerns if I was doing well, to which I replied " 'well' is a relative term isn't it? I wish I were in a different place right now but some things are beyond our control..." My friend's reply was, "...these things ARE under Someone's control (even if it's not ours)" in referring to our heavenly father. </div><div align="center"><br /></div><div align="left">Yes, he is right! Things are under God's control. I just have to keep reminding myself of that. I saved the text exchange in my phone so I can reread the words when my own trust begins to falter. Hmmm, it is time to start 'pulling myself up by my bootstraps.' I am a fighter by nature and when I regain my bearings again after being knocked to the ground by the initial blow, I usually am pretty resilient. So here is my quote for today...</div><div align="center"><br /></div><blockquote><p align="left"><span style="color:#ffcc00;">"Continuity gives us roots; change gives us branches, letting us stretch and grow and reach new heights. " ~Pauline R. Kezer</span> </p></blockquote><div align="left">My task at hand for now, the immediate future, is to identify my roots, the things on which I can rely to give me strength and continuity while these new branches are budding. It is not as though if called upon, I could not identify "my roots." However, I think I need to take the time to make a conscience, concerted effort to revisit those things that have brought me through the huge trials, tribulations and changes of my past. Roots need water and nutrients from the soil to produce and support strong, healthy new growth. These last few months I have felt as though God has enrolled me in a graduate level fortitude class and I've been struggling. It's a difficult course, but I think I will ultimately come out with a passing grade. God is not one of those instructors who likes to put the objective for the day up on the board as you enter the room though. Part of the challenge is He kind of leaves it up to you to figure out the objective on your own. This makes it more difficult, but I guess if it were easy, I wouldn't need to be here. There would be no lesson to be learned. </div><div align="left"><br />Trust. Ruthless Trust. I can do this. Okay so here is my next children's literature reference from Watty Piper's <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Little-Engine-That-Could-Original/dp/0448405202/ref=si3_rdr_bb_product/002-7065098-1510443"><em><span style="color:#ffcc00;">The Little Engine that Could</span></em></a>, "I think I can, I think I can." Growing up, I had the book and record version and it was one of my favorites. I would listen to it over and over and over again. To this day, I can practically recite the story by memory. Looking back, maybe there was a reason for that. God knew me even before I was formed in my mother's womb. </div><div align="center"><br /></div><div align="center"><span style="color:#ffcc00;"><em>If you would attain to what you are not yet,<br />you must always be displeased by what you are.<br />For where you are pleased with yourself<br />there you have remained.<br />Keep adding, keep walking, keep advancing.<br />~Saint Augustine</em></span></div>Bophttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12138595629734395688noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4448631191276381667.post-49204573058299884902007-06-09T08:24:00.000-04:002008-01-05T08:52:44.724-05:00Extra Ordinary Courage<div align="center"><span style="color:#ffcc00;">Lord, I am feeling the edges of my faith<br />I am aware that I have stretched this hope<br />as far as I could dare.<br />I am in a place of great need;<br />My trust is faltering.<br />My prayers are before you<br />and I long for a glimpse of your answer.<br />I know your heart towards me<br />and, in that, there is no doubt,<br />however I long to see your hand<br />gently move across the days to come.<br />I have no more answers,<br />my plans have come to naught,<br />my soul is tired.<br />I long to see your hand<br />gently move across my broken life.</span></div><div align="center"><span style="color:#ffcc00;">- Billy, <a href="http://wildgrace7.blogspot.com/"><span style="color:#ffcc00;">Wild Grace Blog</span></a></span></div><div align="center"><span style="color:#ffcc00;"></span></div><p><br />I found this poem/prayer earlier this spring one day when I was feeling completely lost and just searching for meaning out there somewhere and I randomly clicked on <a href="http://wildgrace7.blogspot.com/">Wild Grace</a>'s blog from another site and there it was just waiting for me. If you like poetry, this is most definitely a site to check out. Gracie, Billy, and Neils live in Australia and write some great poetry on their blog and have some great photography too.<br /><br />Ahhhh! UUUgggghhhhh! GRRRRRRRRR! One month, one post. Second month, four posts - actually all in the course of a week. I thought I was doing good as a blogger, off to a good start. I thought I had found my groove. Then, my world began to crumble around me. I haven't written since because I have been at a loss for words of expression. It is as though God read my previous posts in May and said, "Okay, Barbara, let's see what you're really made of...if you can 'put your money where your mouth is.' Are these just fancy words on the page or do you really, truly believe them and can you live them?? Yeah, and while we're at it, how is that mustard seed size faith doing for you?? You want it to grow?? <span style="color:#ffcc00;">Trust <em>me </em>and<em> only me</em>!</span> Hang on tight 'cause we're about to go for a wild ride...let the journey begin! You can talk the talk, but <em>can you</em> walk the walk?" In the 1980's REM experienced <em><span style="color:#ffcc00;">"The end of the world as we know it"</span></em> and felt fine...but, I'm just not sure I feel so fine!<br /><br />When I arrived at college, ummm, some seventeen years ago, one of my first purchases at the bookstore was a small poster to adorn the wall of my dorm room. It pictured a huge glorious old maple tree in all of its autumn splendor dressed in shades of red and orange and yellow and at the bottom right hand corner in relatively small print were the words, <span style="color:#ffcc00;"><em>"It is only through change that we grow."</em></span> I absolutely love autumn! As far back as I can remember, it has been my all-time favorite season of year, so the poster caught my eye immediately. Also, being bright-eyed, ambitious, not yet jaded and ready to take on the world at the "ripe old age" of eighteen, the words spoke to my heart too. I was ready to embrace change and grow. Bring it on! I loved a challenge and an adventure. Silly me! Change is for kids. Now at almost twice the age that I was then, I have grown to fear change, at least change that is not self-imposed. I've done quite well with the self-imposed kind in recent years as I've alluded to in my previous post. I still have the poster... somewhere...I think it may be in a box in the garage. I guess it is time to find it and put it back up on my wall. Change that is not self-imposed, takes <span style="color:#ffcc00;"><em>extra ordinary courage</em></span> for sure.</p><p>It is not as though this imminent change should have caught me by such surprise. It has been lurking around the fringes of my life for most of the past year, well at least the past nine months anyway...lying in wait for the perfect time to strike, when my defenses were down. This past Friday though, when it boldly made its presence known and announced as if a child who has been chosen as "it", engaged in playing a passionate game of hide-and-seek, finishes counting and yells, "Ready or not, here I come!," I was not as prepared as I should have been. I wanted to throw my own child-like tantrum in return and say, "Wait, wait! I'm not ready yet. It's not fair! I didn't have enough time to find a good hiding place. Close your eyes and count again! Give me one more chance, please?" Oh if I close <em>my</em> eyes now and shut out all of the present day distractions, I am in my childhood neighborhood again and it is dusk on a beautiful summer evening and we are playing "hide-and-seek" all across the yards of Tamark Court.</p><p>One of my gifts (or so I have been told by more than one person) is that of providing encouragement for others. I truly don't believe that I do anything more special in offering my words of support than what should be the norm as a human living in community with others, but apparently my ideals are not so "normal." Finding the best in others and helping them to bring that out and to stay connected to God, our creator and redeemer, has just always been second nature to me. <em><span style="color:#ffcc00;">"Therefore encourage one another and build each other up, just as in fact you are doing." - 1 Thessalonians 5:11</span></em> Sometimes though, I am not so good at encouraging myself.</p><p>So, for whatever it is worth, here are my quotes for this day, perhaps in the days ahead I will be able to write myself into en-courage-ment:</p><blockquote><span style="color:#ffcc00;">"Courage is not the absence of fear, but rather the judgement that something else is more important than fear." - Ambrose Redmoon</span></blockquote><blockquote><span style="color:#ffcc00;">"You gain strength, courage and confidence by every experience in which you really stop to look fear in the face. You are able to say to yourself. ‘I lived through this horror. I can take the next thing that comes along.’ " - Eleanor Roosevelt, <em>You Learn By Living</em>, 1960</span> <p></p></blockquote><p>I think with non-self-imposed change comes a certain amount of grieving and with that grieving comes crying. Is it okay to cry and be afraid before you take on courage?? Does that mean that you are less of a person of faith?? Less trusting of God as the ultimate artist painting "the big picture" on canvas of your life?? Does prayer change things or just help you to cope better with the changes that are inevitable in God's will?? Can you be uncertain and still have trust in God or can the two not really co-exist?? These days I have more questions than answers. I could fill an entire post with all of my questions, but I am not sure who would answer them. "Kyrie eleison. Christe eleison. Kyrie eleison." I can't do it alone God! Have mercy on me.</p><p align="center"><span style="color:#ffcc00;">So do not fear, for I am with you;<br />do not be dismayed, for I am your God.<br />I will strengthen you and help you;<br />I will uphold you with my righteous right hand.<br />-- Isaiah 41:10<br /><br />Have I not commanded you?<br />Be strong and courageous.<br />Do not be terrified;<br />do not be discouraged,<br />for the LORD your God<br />will be with you wherever you go.<br />-- Joshua 1:9</span></p><p align="left">If by chance anyone reads this, please pray for me.<br /><br /><br /><br /></p>Bophttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12138595629734395688noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4448631191276381667.post-73936965689888217712007-05-23T16:04:00.002-04:002023-01-23T16:10:40.587-05:00Extra Ordinary Trust<div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiq3t7RK3soCMu1hNcefy0RP0rKgxhArlbLYiu-Evzt6S6vwzBdNaUJ3WSu7s2d-y9gru5JElT8utzduhgV4QEg-NZUyyos2QY-WgQMBQcbC942t_VgfoNpk1YicoaPK6GM0hoLtAUDLML0/s1600-h/mustardseed.jpg"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5067798817008825394" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiq3t7RK3soCMu1hNcefy0RP0rKgxhArlbLYiu-Evzt6S6vwzBdNaUJ3WSu7s2d-y9gru5JElT8utzduhgV4QEg-NZUyyos2QY-WgQMBQcbC942t_VgfoNpk1YicoaPK6GM0hoLtAUDLML0/s320/mustardseed.jpg" style="cursor: hand; display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;" /></a> <span style="color: #ffa400;"><span>"My brother and sisters, </span><br /></span><div align="center"><span style="color: #ffa400;"><span>whenever you face trials of any kind, </span><span>consider it nothing but joy, </span></span></div><div align="center"><span style="color: #ffa400;">because you know that the testing of your faith produces endurance; </span></div><div align="center"><span style="color: #ffa400;">and let endurance have its full effect, </span></div><div align="center"><span style="color: #ffa400;">so that you may be mature and complete, lacking in nothing. </span></div><div align="center"><span style="color: #ffa400;"></span></div><div align="center"><span style="color: #ffa400;">If any of you is lacking in wisdom, ask God, </span></div><div align="center"><span style="color: #ffa400;">who gives to all generously and ungrudgingly, and it will be given you. </span></div><div align="center"><span style="color: #ffa400;">But ask in faith, never doubting, </span></div><div align="center"><span style="color: #ffa400;">for the one who doubts is like a wave of the sea, </span></div><div align="center"><span style="color: #ffa400;">driven and tossed by the wind; for the doubter, </span></div><div align="center"><span style="color: #ffa400;">being double-minded and unstable in every way, </span></div><div align="center"><span style="color: #ffa400;"><span>must not expect to receive anything from the Lord."</span><br /></span></div><div align="center"><span style="color: #ffa400;">--James 1:2-8</span></div><br /><div align="center"></div><div align="left">I don't believe I have ever devoted much attention to the book of James. It is one of those very short books, only five chapters in length, near the end of the New Testament following all of the letters of Paul and it is just not one that is regularly or often quoted. Yesterday afternoon, I was surfing the web though and stumbled upon a website that had a quote from the book of James which triggered my interest, so I pulled out my Bible and began to read. <em>Hmmm...there are no coincidences in life</em>, only God-incidences! A lot of what James had to say to the twelve tribes in the Dispersion, he also had to say to me as a good bit of his letter spoke directly to my present situation with things I needed to read. One of my regular, repeated prayers is, "Lord, speak to me in a way I can understand." and when I remember to pray that, he usually does.</div><br /><div align="left"></div><div align="left"><span style="color: #ffa400;"><span><em>"Whenever you face trials of any kind, consider it nothing but joy, because you know that the testing of faith produces endurance..."</em> - James 1:2-3</span> </span>Faith. Little word, huge meaning! Faith is one of those constants of the Christian lingo that is often tossed around so much that we in The Church sometimes lose sight of what it's all about, until we are in a crisis and called upon by God to exhibit it. Faith is one of those words, like friendship, that everybody knows what it means until you ask them to define it. It is difficult (to say the least) to box up such an enormous word like "faith" and express it through our limited vocabularies when it is indeed so beyond ourselves. British rocker George Michael told us in the 1980's that we "Gotta Have Faith" and our own Bon Jovi in the 1990's told us to "Keep the Faith." The Hebrews are told in the eleventh chapter of the letter to them that it is <em><span style="color: #ffa400;">"the assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things not seen..."</span></em> and it goes on to describe the faith of the Israelite heroes as examples for us. Jesus told us that an amount the size of a mustard seed was enough, but from where do we get it "in a world so filled with hatred"?</div><div align="left"></div><br /><div align="left">As a child (and still sometimes to this day, although not as often), I used to wake up at night out of a sound sleep crying in pain with a terrible, intense cramp in the back of my calves, which now I know to be commonly called a "Charlie Horse." My mother used to tell me as she tried to rub them away that they were <em>"Growing Pains"</em> and an unavoidable part of life. I remember wishing that growing up didn't have to hurt so much... but we all know that both figuratively and literally, growing up - whether in the physical, emotional, or spiritual realm - does indeed hurt and sometimes much, much more than we would care to experience. At the of age 35, I find myself right now in the middle of a growth spurt and it still hurts just in different ways.... my calves, they're alright for now anyway! <em>;o)</em> So, here is my challenge:</div><div align="left"><span><blockquote><span style="color: #ffa400;">"The important thing is this: To be able at any moment to sacrifice what we are for what we could become." -- Charles du Bois</span></blockquote></span></div><div align="left">I gave someone whom I consider to be a friend a candle a few months ago. It was a simple tea-light candle in an approximately four inch stone-like cube inscribed with the words from <span style="color: #ffa400;"><span>Jeremiah 29:11,</span> <em><span>"For surely I know the plans I have for you, says the Lord,...to give you a future with hope."</span></em> </span>Not printed on the candle in the ellipsis are the the words,<span style="color: #ffa400;"> </span><em><span style="color: #ffa400;">"plans for your welfare and not for harm."</span><span style="color: #ffcc00;"> </span>Those</em> can be difficult words in which to maintain faith in the midst of a growth spurt when the pain is most evident, but that essentially points me back to du Bois' quote. The only problem is that our vision of a future with hope may not be the same as God's vision for us that is more than we could ever imagine and we've got to be willing to sacrifice our vision for his. The end of the chapter of Hebrews on the great heroes of the faith contains these words, that while filled with all the riches God has to offer are indeed scary while we are in the middle of it all and our vision is slipping away: <em><span style="color: #ffa400;">"Yet all these, though they were commended for their faith, did not receive what was promised, since God had provided something better..."</span></em></div><br /><div align="left"><em><span style="color: #ffcc00;"></span></em></div><div align="left">On a personal level, I spent most of my twenties living a fairly contented life savoring the joys of being newly married, doing work that I believed to be making a difference in the world and being an active part of a vibrant faith community (the experiences with whom I did not know at the time would sustain me for years to come). Towards the end of my twenties, although I was basically satisfied with where I had been and where I thought I was going, there began to be as Meg Ryan's character in "You've Got Mail," Kathleen Kelly, tells her then boyfriend Frank regarding their eminent break-up that although "there is no one else; there is the idea of someone else." In the smallest corners of my mind there began to be the idea of becoming someone else. I stumbled across the quote which launched my collection and made it my theme, my motto, my tagline. It was even my signature line on my emails for a season. It became my catalyst for change:</div><div align="left"><span><blockquote><div align="left"><span style="color: #ffa400;">"It is never too late to be what you might<br />have been." - George Eliot, English novelist</span></div></blockquote></span>Simultaneously, I began a fascination with the biographies of people who are well regarded in their fields of endeavor but did not begin in those fields until at least thirty years of age.</div><div align="left"></div><div align="left"></div><div align="left"><strong><span style="color: #ffa400;">To be continued.... If you want the rest of the story, come back later.</span></strong></div></div><div align="center"><span style="text-align: left;"><br /></span></div><div align="center"><span style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: #ffa400;">"The whole problem with the world </span></span></div><div align="center"><span style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: #ffa400;">is that fools and fanatics are always so certain of themselves, </span></span></div><div align="center"><span style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: #ffa400;">but wiser people so full of doubts." </span></span></div><div align="center"><span style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: #ffa400;">-- Bertrand Russell</span></span></div>Bophttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12138595629734395688noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4448631191276381667.post-32241131388510064932007-05-18T23:56:00.000-04:002008-01-05T08:51:49.550-05:00Extra Ordinary Grace<div align="center"><span style="font-size:0;"></span><span style="font-size:0;"></span><span style="font-size:0;"></span><span style="color:#ffcc00;">"I will extol the LORD at all times;<br />his praise will always be on my lips . . .<br />I sought the LORD, and he answered me;<br />he delivered me from all my fears . . . </span></div><div align="center"><span style="color:#ffcc00;">Taste and see that the LORD is good;<br />blessed is the man who takes refuge in him . . .</span></div><div align="center"><span style="color:#ffcc00;">The righteous cry out, and the LORD hears them;<br />he delivers them from all their troubles.</span></div><div align="center"><span style="color:#ffcc00;">The LORD is close to the brokenhearted and<br />saves those who are crushed in spirit . . .<br />The LORD redeems his servants;<br />no one will be condemned who takes refuge in him."<br />- <a href="http://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=Psalm%2034;&version=31;"><span style="color:#ffcc00;">Psalm 34</span></a>:1, 4, 8, 17, 18 and 22, King David<br /></span></div><div align="left"><br />I don't believe that I could ever tire of reading the Psalms. They were written thousands of years ago, but for the most part they could have just as easily been written today. Sometimes I marvel at the continuity of the human experience. There is a tendency in our society to think one's experiences, ideas and problems are unique to one's self, "I am special," "no one could possibly understand what I'm going through," "It just isn't the same." My mother-in-law is one of the biggest proponents of this type of thinking, it is difficult sometimes to bite my tongue. I believe this could not be further from the truth though. <em><span style="color:#ffcc00;">"</span><span style="color:#ffcc00;">I have come that they may have life and have it to the full." --Jo<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">hn</span> 10:10</span></em> In Christ we will experience all that there is to <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">experience</span> - the good, the bad, and the ugly, but is it not the same that our forefathers [and mothers <em>;o)</em> ] have experienced from the beginning of time?? Somehow, I find comfort in that.<br /><br />In Psalm 35, my absolute favorite lines are from verses 21 & 22: <em><span style="color:#ffcc00;">" 'They open wide their eyes against me; they say Aha, Aha, our eyes have seen it.' You have seen it Lord; do not be silent!" </span></em>For some reason that line always tickles me when I read it. I know those people! They aren't only from thousands of years ago in King David's time, I see them every day. They live in 2007 and they are still saying "Aha, Aha" with their index finger pointing towards another. The funny thing about those people though is they never seem to find reason to point that finger in the mirror. Perhaps you know them too. But even in their "<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">Aha's</span>" it is up to us to find the blessings, for without the trials would there be a need of grace?<br /><br />Some of the "Aha-<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">ers</span>" (as I like to call them in my own private vocabulary) had been the cause of, for me, an "Alexander Day." I was an elementary education major in college where I developed a love of children's literature and the wonderful ways they capture such basic life lessons with child-like candidness and beauty. If you read this blog for any duration you'll probably get quite a list of my favorites from that genre. There are certain works of children's literature that I believe should be on <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">everyone's</span> "Must Read" list, regardless of age. Judith <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">Viorst's</span> classic, <em><span style="color:#ffcc00;"><a href="http://www.amazon.com/Alexander-Terrible-Horrible-Good-Very/dp/0689711735/ref=pd_bbs_sr_1/104-3414895-9987911?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1179611980&sr=8-1"><span style="color:#ffcc00;">Alexander and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day</span></a>, </span></em>is just such a book. In it Alexander is having a day filled with what to him are the worst possible experiences that he could ever have to endure, so he decides to remedy the situation by planning to move to Australia, where surely life must be better -- that is, until his mother convinces him that even in Australia they have days just like that too sometimes!<br /><br />Anyway, back on track to the telling of my <span style="color:#ffcc00;"><em>Extraordinary Grace</em></span> experience. My day started out with a grey cloud dancing over my head and it developed into "severe thunderstorm warning" like conditions as the day progressed. My husband is the Director of Bands at a local high school, one of the worlds' most noble, mostly unsung heroes. He is amazing at what he does and the way he transforms the lives of ordinary teenagers over the course of four year periods. He is truly one of those people who makes a difference and is changing the world one life at a time. I admire him more than he will probably ever comprehend. Running a multi-faceted, successful high school band program in today's world is no simple undertaking, it is a life calling. </div><div align="left">This is where my quote of the day comes into play:</div><div align="left"><span style="color:#ffcc00;"><span style="color:#ffcc00;"></span></span></div><div align="left"><span style="color:#ffcc00;"><blockquote><p><span style="color:#ffcc00;">To laugh often and much; to win the respect of intelligent people and </span><span style="color:#ffcc00;">the affection of children; to earn the appreciation of honest critics and endure the betrayal of false friends; to appreciate beauty, to find the best in others; to leave the world a little better; whether by a healthy child, a garden patch or a redeemed social condition; to know even one life has breathed easier because you have lived. This is the meaning of success." -- Ralph Waldo Emerson<br /><br />Success is what you make it. Not what others tell you it is.</span></p></blockquote></span></div><div align="left"></div><div align="left">My husband understands this about success, that is one of the reasons why I love him so much. He "gets it!" Although to not understand it and do the work that he does would, I think, bring one to the point of insanity. Being the person in charge of such an organization puts one in a position to endure lots of criticism while you must attempt to create a program of success in the eyes of five different audiences and their ideas about such success are usually quite different. The audiences being the student population (for whom the program was truly created), their parents/boosters who must work to financially support the running of the organization, the school administration looking at <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">measurable</span> achievement and entertainment(scores, evaluations, assessment providing meaningful educational goals while still providing entertainment), music professionals (adjudicators) and collegues, and the community at large who simply wants a band to play at their parade or give a concert for <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7">their</span> event (because ah, doesn't everybody love a band?) and even they have no concept that the other four audiences exist. Finding the balance between all of those different audience perceptions as well as the director's own vision for the program is an incredible task.<br /><br />This year has been an especially difficult one, after almost fifteen years in "the business" he has really seriously considered <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8">changing</span> professions on more than one <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9">occasion</span> because one of the five audiences (the parent/booster group) has upset the delicate balance in a very negative way. This year the group is filled with "Aha-<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10">ers</span>." Today was the day of our annual end-of-year awards banquet that we have taken to calling "The Celebration <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11">of</span> Achievements" The Aha-<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12">ers</span> had spent their time pointing out every possible fault they could find with the way my husband does his job, meanwhile neglecting doing their own jobs in the team of running the program. As his wife, life partner, lover and best-friend, I shoulder some of the stress that evolves from that as well.<br /><br />My "severe thunderstorm warning" like conditions were already brewing (because of a situation at my own work) when I showed up at the school in the late afternoon, after work to finish printing the last few certificates. The organizing of said event as far as the banquet portion of it is a designated booster <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13">activity</span>. This year no advance <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14">preparations</span> were made by anyone, but nonetheless their expectations for a wonderful evening remained equally as high as ever. No one had stepped up to the plate to make things happen. No hall was reserved, so we had it in the school cafeteria and auditorium. No one prepared tickets in advance and helped sell them, so it was poorly attended and our caterer had trouble knowing what to prepare. No decorations. At thirty minutes before it was supposed to start, not one table had been set up. It is Harley-Davidson Bike Week here (a traffic nightmare) so the food was late arriving. Once it was set up, a <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15">Sterno</span> can caught on fire and filled the room with smoke. No parents would lift a finger to help in the serving line, as we could not afford hired servers, so two alumni served the entire crowd. Not enough funds had been raised throughout the year, with the ever-increasing transportation costs and gas prices, to afford real trophies this year, so it was all lying on the certificates that it was my responsibility to create and have ready.<br /><br />While all of the banquet portion of the evening was going <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_16">awry</span>, I was attempting to finish the few certificates that I had left to print, which would have been a very easy manageable task had technology cooperated, but alas it would not! The first computer I linked into was having a fan problem and would overheat and shut off, the second had an impossibly slow printer and at the rate it was going, there was no way I would ever finish in time. Even if everything else goes wrong, what is an awards celebration without the awards??? I was losing it, big time! The thunder was roaring, I could see lightning in the distance. I was snapping at my husband! Things were going from bad to worse in a downward spiral. I was obviously doing something wrong. I was trying to do something I could not do, I was trying to prevent the "Aha-<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_17">ers</span>" from being successful. I could not control what I was trying to control. I stopped. I found my husband who was also running around trying to save the day himself -- I stopped him. I hugged him (long and hard). I kissed him. I told him I was sorry for snapping at him. I told him how much I appreciated him and how much I loved him. It was brief really, but it was so meaningful and then he was off again trying to saving the day. Then when he left the room I was working in with the door locked behind him, I fell prostrate before the Lord and cried out "Lord have Mercy, Christ have Mercy, Lord have Mercy!" over and over then I got up and asked God to redirect me, help me to focus on what was really important, show me the way....and he did! <span style="color:#ffcc00;"><em>"</em></span><span style="color:#ffcc00;"><em>The righteous cry out, and the LORD hears them; he delivers them from all their troubles. The LORD is close to the brokenhearted <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_18">and saves</span> those who are crushed in spirit . . .The LORD redeems his servants; no one will be condemned who takes refuge in him."<br /><br /></em></span>Somehow what had been so difficult, went easy. The computer and printer started working. The people got fed and fell into conversation and fellowship with one another and made their way into the auditorium for the power-point/video and presentations. I finished-- the delays with the set-up and food had bought me more time! I thanked God!! I went into the <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_20">auditorium and</span> sat down on the stairs against the wall as unobtrusive as possible, my heart and my soul were at peace and it was then that I experienced His <em><span style="color:#ffcc00;">Extraordinary Grace</span></em> as God showed me what was indeed really important.<br /><br />My was hair was just pulled back, no make-up, and I never did have time to change into my "dress up" clothes - I was just wearing my old grey t-shirt that I wear to the gym, my capris, and my old strappy sandles that have seen better days, but the certificates were done and I decided I was going to just enjoy the rest of the night and be open to what God had instore. I ended up being more relaxed than I had at any other of these functions in the past fourteen years. The kids had produced the most professional, incredible, life-affirming video with pictures and music and the experience of their life with each other and my husband for the past year...watching it there was laughter and spontaneous applause and "<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_21">oooh's"</span> and "<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_22">aaah's</span>." This was their life -- they spend more hours with the band during their four years of high school than anywhere else, except perhaps sleeping. Next came superlative awards also <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_23">created</span> by the students... you remember those fun "Most likely to..." kind of things. The three presenters did an amazing job and made it so much more fun and memorable than any other class had in <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_24">years</span> past. They rented tuxes and presented them in the style of the academy awards with nominees, a Power Point and the whole nine yards! The kids had a blast with it. We were making memories. The color guard instructor, a college sophomore and alumni of the program, wanted to do something special for her kids since we could not afford real trophies, so she went searching for something and found and purchased with her own money these little oval smooth metal-like stones with words like <span style="color:#ffcc00;">"courage,"</span> <span style="color:#ffcc00;">"faith,"</span> <span style="color:#ffcc00;">"hope,"</span> <span style="color:#ffcc00;">"love,"</span> you know the kind. She had showed them to me in advance and told me, "I wanted to get these for them because that's what we're really about here, we're giving them 'life lessons.' That's what they need to take away from here." I wanted cry. She "got it!" I told her she was amazing and not to let anyone tell her otherwise as she too had spent a <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_25">year</span> under the watchful eyes of the "Aha-<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_26">ers</span>." Then came my husband's presentation of my little computer generated certificates that I had <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_27">sweat</span> over, which at this point almost seemed anti-climatic and then was followed by "The Senior Farewell Speeches." After four years together through the good times and the bad, you store up a lot of things that you want to say...and we let them. Each graduating senior of the program gets however long they would like at the podium to say their good-byes. I really did almost cry this time. The ways that this program has affected their lives, they are going into the world different people than their peers who had not <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_28">experienced</span> the unconditional love of an incredible man that guided them and helped them <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_29">through</span> some of the most difficult years of their lives to this point.<br /><br />When it was over, I don't think anyone remembered that we had to have it in the undecorated school cafeteria, that a lot of parents didn't come, that the food was late, that the smoke alarms almost went off and no one would help serve...that I was frantically trying to finish the awards at the last minute. I know that's not what I'll <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_30">remember</span> most about the night. The storm clouds rolled away and I don't think a drop of rain ever actually fell, because when I went to my car I could see the stars. <em><span style="color:#ffcc00;">"I will love the light for it shows me the way, yet I will endure the darkness for it shows me the stars." -- Og Mandino</span></em></div><div align="left"><br /></div><div align="center"><em></em></div><div align="center"><em><span style="color:#ffcc00;">"Success is what you make it, not what others tell you that it is."</span></em><span style="color:#ffcc00;"></div><br /></span>Bophttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12138595629734395688noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4448631191276381667.post-31091832738410900922007-05-17T08:01:00.005-04:002008-06-17T10:02:38.053-04:00Extra Ordinary Beginnings<div align="center"><span style="color:#ffcc00;">Let's start at the very beginning<br />A very good place to start<br />When you read<br />you begin with A - B - C<br />When you sing<br />you begin with do - re - mi<br />- Maria (Julie Andrews), The Sound of Music, 1965</span> </div><span style="font-size:0;"></span><span style="color:#ffcc00;"><div align="left"><br /></span>When you blog, I have come to realize, you begin with overcoming your fear of not having anything of value to say. In my own experience of sitting at my computer one day in late February searching for hope, searching for meaning, searching for guidance, searching for the good in the world concerning cross-gender friendships and mission and ministry, I literally stumbled upon Dan Brennan's blog, <a href="http://danbrennan.typepad.com/"><span style="color:#ffcc00;">Faith Dance</span></a>, and I found that his words and ideas expressed there spoke to some of my experience as well and in them I found comfort. Dan is an ordinary man with an <span style="color:#ffcc00;"><em><strong>Extraordinary vision and passion</strong></em></span> for educating the world on God's blessings found in cross-gender friendship. He has no formal degrees and titles to add to his name but has been given a special gift that God would like to share with the world through him. He has been an inspiration to me in my desire to create a blog of my own. <span style="color:#ffcc00;"><em>"Pay It Forward"</em></span> has become a popular saying in certain circles of our culture, but it is a concept I firmly believe in. For those of you who have watched the <a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0223897/">movie version </a>with Helen Hunt, Kevin Spacey and Haley Joel <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">Osmont</span>, you must read the book! I was fortunate enough to stumble upon the <a href="http://www.amazon.com/o/ASIN/0743412028/ref=s9_asin_image_1/104-3414895-9987911?pf_rd_m=ATVPDKIKX0DER&pf_rd_s=center-1&amp;amp;pf_rd_r=1FRYKBZ8GGRZ49FTKRK4&pf_rd_t=101&pf_rd_p=278240701&pf_rd_i=507846">original book </a>when it was a new release at my local library, long before the concept of a movie version was ever conceived. It is good and as any reader knows, the book is always better than the movie. In that vein, it is my hope that someday this blog will evolve into something meaningful for someone other than myself, but for the present time it may just be a way of giving voice to my story.<br /><br />"Start at the very beginning, a very good place to start..." overcoming my fear of not having anything of value to say. I have the perfect quote for that and it does speak directly to my experience both literally and figuratively:</span><br /></span></div><span style="color:#ffcc00;"><blockquote><span style="color:#ffcc00;">If you hear a voice telling you that you cannot paint, then by all means paint, and that voice will be silenced. -- Vincent Van <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">Gogh</span></span> </blockquote></span><div align="left">This is a gem that I have only more recently added to my collection. On a personal level in the figurative sense, in the past year I have had the paradox of a growing voice within myself that is longing for expression somewhere battling with another voice that says I have nothing worthy of putting into writing or even spoken words. I have never been very disciplined in any of my previous attempts of keeping any sort of journal. So here, I will write - to silence the later and give birth to the other. </div><div align="left"><br />In a more literal sense in the past year I have indeed begun to paint and I love it! Albeit they are by no means master pieces, simply 4' x 8' backdrops for our church's children's faith formation program (<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">VBS</span> and Sunday School) done mostly in tempera <em>;o)</em> but they are paintings nonetheless, real finished products and I actually let other people look at them. For me that has been a huge step in overcoming my fear of being vulnerable and contributing to a positive reinforcement of my sense of self. </div><div align="left"><br />Last May, Stephanie, our director of faith formation, out of blue - with no prompting from me (or anyone else of whom I am aware) asked me if I would like to help create the environment/settings for <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">VBS</span>, a task the nature of which I have never undertaken before in my life! I have always had an artistic longing deep within me that had long since been buried, but a lack of confidence prevented me from ever dreaming of doing anything even halfway serious with it. We all form ideas in our heads of who is creative and who is not, and I didn't really see myself in the creative category as my strengths were more in math and science. As a child, though, I used to check "How to Draw" books out of the library and I loved art class, but much beyond sixth grade and one quarter in seventh grade I have had no formal art instruction, especially in anything to do with painting as most of my elementary school art classes were mixed medium classes and I had very little instruction in painting and color combining, etc. I did in the spring of 2003 and 2004 for a few of months take some pencil drawing classes once or twice a week with Lon Calhoun at <a href="http://www.moegans.com/"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">Moegan's</span> Gallery</a> in Conway, who has become another of my inspirations.<br /><br />Needless to say though, at the thought of painting, I was at once excited and fearful. When I realized that I was simply a conduit for one of God's many, many gifts to the world and that I could indeed <span style="color:#ffcc00;"><strong><em>"do all things through Christ who strengthens me." - Philippians 4:13</em></strong></span> it became an effortless, meditative activity that allowed me to feel in communion with God. It was no longer about me and what I could do, but rather about God and what He can do. It didn't have to be perfect, He was just looking for someone to show up and do the work. My self-consciousness, my inner critic in God's arms were laid to rest. Without having a clue as to what to do or how to do it, I put brush to paper and simply began. My friends laugh when I tell them that I don't really know what I am doing and am simply making it up as I go along. The <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">transformative</span> experience really comes though when I think I have just done something <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">disastrous</span> that will ruin the entire picture but when I refuse to waste the resources of time and materials and keep working at it, not abandoning ship, inevitably God will turn it my mistakes into something others see as beautiful. It has become for me a great life lesson and metaphor for living that when I think I or someone else has made a huge mistake in life, if I "let go and let God" He will take the time to turn the bad into something good. Saying "Yes!" when I had so much doubt and uncertainty was the best thing I ever did. It began a year-long ministry for me that has been such a blessing in my own life. Since last year's <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7">VBS</span> ended in June, when I contemplate embarking on something new of which I am unsure, I remember to think to myself, <a href="http://s82.photobucket.com/albums/j267/brkm13/My%20Paintings/"><strong><em><span style="color:#ffcc00;">"I can paint!"</span></em></strong> </a></div>Bophttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12138595629734395688noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4448631191276381667.post-24744878458977355092007-05-17T06:38:00.000-04:002008-01-05T08:51:09.002-05:00Extra Ordinary MissionI have had this blog for a little over a month now and have not been exactly sure in what direction to venture forth since my original post. Since it seems though that no one in particular will ever even discover this blog, I guess it does not matter. As my few close personal friends know, I have lots of opinions and strong convictions, so a blog seems like a natural outlet for that, but sometimes I am often hesitant to share them for fear of how they will be received. I also though have a broad spectrum of interests and causes so to focus in on any one would for me be difficult.<br /><br />I am a collector of quotations, pithy sayings, biblical verses and words to the wise that speak to my heart. It is one of the ways I make sense of the world around me. I love language and words that strung together in just the right order somehow capture and comunicate the essence of the human experience and transcend time and culture - they are to me like a beautiful painting. It has been said that a picture is worth a thousand words, but I believe that well crafted words can also be worth a thousand pictures. A thousand people can read a biblical passage, a novel, a poem or hear a sermon, political speech, a song, .... and come away with a thousand different personal viewpoints from what they have read or what they have heard yet still somehow each hold on to the same basic truths or themes found in the message. Words can be magical. They have the power to influence, encourage, transform, inspire, guide, create, destroy, hurt, heal, forgive, redeem and so much more. We as individuals and as a society must be careful and not careless with how we use them. Nothing can be further from the truth than the childhood taunting retort <strong><span style="color:#ffcc00;"><em>"Stick and stones may break my bones, but words (or names) will never hurt me."</em></span></strong> Words do sometimes hurt and leave deep, long-lasting wounds. I much prefer the truism <em><strong><span style="color:#ffcc00;">"The pen is mightier than the sword." </span></strong></em><br /><br />We all have our own concept of self that we carry around with us from very young childhood until we die and it usually morphs and transforms over the years as it is influenced by outside forces (Community has the power to shape us or destroy us) as well as our own hopefully ever-growing maturity, realtionship with our creator God and self awareness and progress on the road to truly being "self-actualized" (in the words of Maslow). When we are truly honest though, I think there are some constants that remain. For me one of those constants has been that I believe that somehow, in some small way I am going to change the world one day (or a small portion of it) for the better by influencing the way people think and in turn believe and ultimately act. Yes, my true self is (what some would call a hopeless) optimist. But I believe in optimism, there is always hope. I do freelance graphic communiations and design work and I guess that is ultimately my goal with that, to influence the way people think and view the world.<br /><br />Here in this blog, in navigating the "Extras" in my ordinary life, I believe I will begin by each day trying to focus on taking one small quotation, pithy saying, or biblical verse that has latched on to my heart and experiences of that day and explore a little further what it is communicating to me. Then, perhaps, someone else will be sitting at their computer searching for hope, searching for meaning, searching for guidance, searching for the good in the world and also then find these words and they will speak to their experience as well and offer them comfort.Bophttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12138595629734395688noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4448631191276381667.post-78488374682614508212007-04-07T14:43:00.000-04:002008-01-05T08:50:50.956-05:00EXTRAS in MY Ordinary LifeThe concept for this blog was inspired by a retreat which I attended in February 2007 held at <a href="http://www.stchristopher.org/">Camp St. Christopher</a> on Seabrook Island just south of Charleston, SC hosted by and for <a href="http://www.nationalecw.org/">The Episcopal Church Women (ECW)</a> of the <a href="http://www.dioceseofsc.org/">Diocese of South Carolina</a>. The theme for the retreat was <strong><em><span style="color:#ffcc00;">"Extras in the Ordinary Life"</span></em></strong> focusing specifically on <strong><em>Extra</em></strong>ordinary Priorities, <strong><em>Extra</em></strong>ordinary Joy, <strong><em>Extra</em></strong>ordinary Service, and <strong><em>Extra</em></strong>ordinary Love and it was presented by the keynote speakers The Very Rev. John and Sylvia Burwell from <a href="http://www.holycross.net/index.cfm">The Church of the Holy Cross on Sullivans Island, SC</a>.<br /><br />The main premise for this retreat came from John 10:9-10, NIV<br /><br /><em><span style="color:#ffcc00;"><strong>"I am the gate; whoever enters by me will be saved.<br />He will come in and go out and find pasture . . .<br />I came that they may have life and have it to the full."</strong></span></em><br /><br />Or as the NRSV translation says,<br /><strong><em><span style="color:#ffcc00;">". . . that they may have life and have it abundantly."</span></em><br /></strong><br />All this is to say a life lived for, through and with Christ is anything but ordinary. Inviting Christ into our life will result in a fuller, richer, more abundant life more than we could ever dream or imagine. This is not however to say that life in Christ will be all joyous, happy and sunny moments, rather experiencing life "to the full" or "abundantly" means that we will experience the full, broad spectrum of human emotion and experience including pain, disappointment, hurt, loss and the like. Thus in Acts 9:16 (after Paul's conversion on the road to Damascus), Jesus said to Ananias, "I will show him how much he must suffer for my name."<br /><br />In the course of this blog I hope to explore just what the <span style="color:#ffcc00;"><strong><em>"Extras"</em></strong> in <strong><em>my</em></strong> Ordinary Life</span> may come to be. Merrium-Webster defines extraordinary as "going beyond what is usual, regular, or customary; exceptional to a very marked extent." What it will mean here in the context of this blog only time will tell. Brennan Manning, in his book <em>Ruthless Trust</em>, says:<br /><br /><blockquote><span style="color:#ffcc00;">We are, each and every one of us, insignificant people whom God has called and graced to use in a significant way. In his eyes, the high-profile ministries are no more significant than those that draw little or no attention and publicity. On the last day, Jesus will look us over not for medals, diplomas, or honors, but for scars.</span></blockquote>I hope you will see fit to join me as I navigate what it means to live an <strong><em>Extraordinary Life</em></strong>. Feel free to join in with your own commentary on the posts you read here.Bophttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12138595629734395688noreply@blogger.com0