Last Saturday was the second anniversary of That's the Spirit. I actually checked in October to see when I started it, knowing I was writing by November 2009, and thinking I would post something reflective for the anniversary. But even though I posted Nov. 4, the Nov. 5 anniversary wasn't on my mind. I didn't remember until my cousin Eric mentioned his blog's ninth anniversary earlier this week. Not that a blog anniversary is really anything worth mentioning. But those of you who have read along the way -- and especially those who have read from the beginning -- probably understand why it is worth mentioning for me. I hope and pray it is a tool and not a distraction. I believe that is true.
I had hoped the blog would evolve into sharp writing and clear observations by now. That hasn't happened. I accept that it is exactly what it is supposed to be today. I've stayed true to my original goals, and only once did I go eight days instead of seven without posting. Too many of these posts have been what I call placeholders, nothing more than checking in to say I met my deadline. But usually, even on those, I ended up putting together a word or two of hope and inspiration. And on those rare times when I did post something that seemed more worthwhile, I knew the act of checking in had played a part.
Technically, this is another placeholder. I have so many more important things I want and need to express. Part of me fears that the longer I wait the harder it will be. And another, hopefully stronger, part of me believes that when the time is right, I will write about those things. I am grateful for family, friends, Scripture, prayer and my relationship with Christ, all of which reassure me that where and who and how I am is blessed, even as I prayerfully strive to improve. God bless you all!
Showing posts with label writing. Show all posts
Showing posts with label writing. Show all posts
Friday, November 11, 2011
Sunday, May 22, 2011
Checking in on deadline
It's blog deadline again. I don't remember when it switched from Monday to Sunday, but I knew it would eventually become problematic if I didn't get something written on a weekday. Tonight, after a busy and fun Saturday-Sunday trip to see family in Texas, the Sunday deadline is problematic.
Sometimes I jot down blog notes during the week, but I didn't this time. I don't have anything ready to write, and I don't have time (it's 11:23 p.m., even though the blog time stamp will say it's much earlier) to just sit here and mess around until I come up with something, which is what I'm able to do sometimes when deadline sneaks up on me. It's not as if I don't have ideas. But it definitely takes time for me to make anything close to sense of those thoughts.
But I've seen the value of checking in and writing a few words. Sometimes something comes together that amazes me. That's not going to happen tonight. Checking in really is just checking in. It's really just making deadline. It's respecting the deadline. And it's not letting go of the hope/dream of something better to come.
Sometimes I jot down blog notes during the week, but I didn't this time. I don't have anything ready to write, and I don't have time (it's 11:23 p.m., even though the blog time stamp will say it's much earlier) to just sit here and mess around until I come up with something, which is what I'm able to do sometimes when deadline sneaks up on me. It's not as if I don't have ideas. But it definitely takes time for me to make anything close to sense of those thoughts.
But I've seen the value of checking in and writing a few words. Sometimes something comes together that amazes me. That's not going to happen tonight. Checking in really is just checking in. It's really just making deadline. It's respecting the deadline. And it's not letting go of the hope/dream of something better to come.
Sunday, May 15, 2011
Rejected but not dejected
Several months ago, in probably my last time as a volunteer helping with the Angel Food distribution at my church, I was in a discussion that led to me wonder why I don't participate in periodic blood drives at the church. I remembered giving blood a few times when I was younger, but as best I could recall, the reasons I quit volunteering were because sometimes I felt faint afterward, and also because, although it wasn't really painful, it wasn't exactly comfortable. But I was just so aware that many people who could offer legitimate reasons for not volunteering at Angel Food and other events and for not giving blood apparently wouldn't dream of not participating. I looked around and thought, if these people can do this, certainly I can, too. So I vowed to participate in the next blood drive.
As luck (?) would have it, the next two or three drives scheduled at the church were Sundays when I was out of town. I'd be lying if I said I was sad to realize I could delay the experience. Then, when we received an e-mail reminder this week about weekend events at the church, including a scheduled blood drive, my thought was that it would be a busy day. But my commitment didn't come to mind. Even Saturday night, I was thinking about the pancake breakfast the Mission Team has the third Sunday of every month and that there would be a blood drive, but that's as far as it went.
One thing worth noting is that this weekend and the coming week were shaping up to hold opportunities for me to get some things done I've been putting off. Before I went to bed Saturday -- without getting anything on that mental list started, much less accomplished -- I wrote these words in my journal: Praying to make a list of priorities for this week -- prayerfully -- and to lift it up to You and just do it, do it, do it! One moment at a time.
Lo and behold, shortly after I awoke this morning, it occurred to me that today was the blood drive, and I had no excuse not to participate. So, to keep from talking myself out of it, I couldn't even think about it, other than to make sure I dressed comfortably with easy access to my veins! Even though I hadn't given the blood drive any thought on Saturday, I realized I had eaten some extra protein and other things that seemed healthy, and then I made sure to eat what I thought was a healthy breakfast. I won't say I was excited, but I was committed. I even got to church earlier than usual, to make sure I had enough time before the choir gathered to prepare for worship.
As soon as I got there, I headed to the check in. I answered the questions and everything seemed to be going fine -- temperature, blood pressure and pulse. Then she pricked my finger to draw a little blood, and the next thing I knew, she said I wouldn't be able to donate. It seems my iron level was low. It needed to be 38 and was just 34.
Of course, that's when I remembered I'd tried this before sometime in the years after I started facing some of my petty fears and being a little less selfish and a little more serving. And this had been the result then, too. But I had completely forgotten. I am a bit puzzled though, because I recently had routine blood work done, and I had not been told my iron level might be low. I will be checking into this further. Could this explain why I always seem tired even though I get a pretty good amount of pillow time each night? (I still think the sleep problem might be related to having a cat on my legs, causing me to wake up and reposition several times each night.)
I think on some level I'm disappointed that I wasn't able to give blood. I know I'm glad I was willing to make the effort. And I think I'll see if I can figure out what I need to do to get the iron level up -- both for my own health and so I can try again to share this gift of life!
As luck (?) would have it, the next two or three drives scheduled at the church were Sundays when I was out of town. I'd be lying if I said I was sad to realize I could delay the experience. Then, when we received an e-mail reminder this week about weekend events at the church, including a scheduled blood drive, my thought was that it would be a busy day. But my commitment didn't come to mind. Even Saturday night, I was thinking about the pancake breakfast the Mission Team has the third Sunday of every month and that there would be a blood drive, but that's as far as it went.
One thing worth noting is that this weekend and the coming week were shaping up to hold opportunities for me to get some things done I've been putting off. Before I went to bed Saturday -- without getting anything on that mental list started, much less accomplished -- I wrote these words in my journal: Praying to make a list of priorities for this week -- prayerfully -- and to lift it up to You and just do it, do it, do it! One moment at a time.
Lo and behold, shortly after I awoke this morning, it occurred to me that today was the blood drive, and I had no excuse not to participate. So, to keep from talking myself out of it, I couldn't even think about it, other than to make sure I dressed comfortably with easy access to my veins! Even though I hadn't given the blood drive any thought on Saturday, I realized I had eaten some extra protein and other things that seemed healthy, and then I made sure to eat what I thought was a healthy breakfast. I won't say I was excited, but I was committed. I even got to church earlier than usual, to make sure I had enough time before the choir gathered to prepare for worship.
As soon as I got there, I headed to the check in. I answered the questions and everything seemed to be going fine -- temperature, blood pressure and pulse. Then she pricked my finger to draw a little blood, and the next thing I knew, she said I wouldn't be able to donate. It seems my iron level was low. It needed to be 38 and was just 34.
Of course, that's when I remembered I'd tried this before sometime in the years after I started facing some of my petty fears and being a little less selfish and a little more serving. And this had been the result then, too. But I had completely forgotten. I am a bit puzzled though, because I recently had routine blood work done, and I had not been told my iron level might be low. I will be checking into this further. Could this explain why I always seem tired even though I get a pretty good amount of pillow time each night? (I still think the sleep problem might be related to having a cat on my legs, causing me to wake up and reposition several times each night.)
I think on some level I'm disappointed that I wasn't able to give blood. I know I'm glad I was willing to make the effort. And I think I'll see if I can figure out what I need to do to get the iron level up -- both for my own health and so I can try again to share this gift of life!
Sunday, March 6, 2011
Cold facts
I finally accepted that what I was experiencing was a cold when I realized its effect on the common-sense part of my brain: It froze!!!!!
I struggle with decisionmaking in many areas of my life, but one of the biggest struggles is in the area of sickness. The good news is that I'm not sick very much (thank you, God, and praying for continued health!). The bad news is that when symptoms start to appear, I don't seem to respond very well. The problem with my response typically isn't that I overreact and hibernate. Instead, I tend to discount the symptoms and rationalize that I'm not really sick. I self-analyze my symptoms and their onset, and I come up with what seems like a logical conclusion to me that it's probably just drainage resulting from pollen, that I'm not contagious, and I might as well go to work anyway. By the time I can't deny I was really sick, some of the gunk from the drainage has settled into my upper chest, and I feel worse than ever, with a nasty cough, runny nose, watery eyes, congestion, sore throat but somehow not much of a headache or other pain.
This time, the first symptoms showed up on Sunday, as I was unexpectedly very tired as I prepared to drive home from a weekend trip to Arkansas. But being tired made sense after a busy weekend, so I didn't think much of it. And even when I started to have a runny nose and drainage the next day, I truly thought it was sinuses or allergies, not a cold. I didn't have a cold or a fever. I didn't feel that bad. I might as well work. So I worked Monday. And Tuesday. By Wednesday, I was glad it was a short workday, thinking that if I skipped choir practice, I'd probably feel fine by Thursday. So, I'm not sure what happened Thursday morning, but looking back, I can tell that by then the common sense part of my brain had frozen. Because even though I obviously wasn't getting any better, I rationalized that I might be, and that I didn't want to leave people in a bind at work. And I didn't feel THAT bad, did I? By time I left work, I was pretty sure I felt pretty bad! But when Friday came, for some reason I decided I should work again. Same thought: I don't want to leave them in a bind. And even though midway through the 10-hour shift I knew I'd made a mistake in coming to work, I didn't leave, even as I could see they would have been OK without me.
So I reached the weekend hoping that by staying in bed except to eat and medicate on Saturday would turn the corner for me, so I'd be able to go to church. But I was wrong again. By Sunday morning, I could tell I didn't feel enough better to have any business going to church. So I'm still at the house. I hoped I might feel better by 4, so I might shower and go to my Bible study anyway. But I don't think that's happening, either.
So many issues. Among them ....
-- Why don't I go to a doctor? Because whenever I have gone, it hasn't seemed to help. Or that's how it seems from experience. But in this case, it occurs to me now that I probably should have gone when I wasn't better by Thursday. Now, however, I think I'm on the getting-better side, so I don't think I need to go. (Will I NEVER LEARN!!!!)
-- I have a good work ethic, and I'm proud of that. I don't miss work without a good reason, and I try to give reasonable notice. But there's a warp in my ethic when it comes to sickness, apparently. I don't want to leave people in a bind. I don't want to be a wimp. And I just never have a good feel for whether I really am sick.
-- Work is not my God, but when I look at the past week, I don't like the pattern I see about what I attended to every day (work) and the many things I let go, including recovery meetings, church, choir practice, Bible study, exercise and routine chores. My rationale is that everyone else has to fill in the gap at work if I'm gone, and church and everything else seems to go on fine without me, and that I'm the only one who suffers.
In hopes that this won't have been a wasted week, I'm trying to find some lessons in the experience. What is that line for me when I should recognize that I'm really sick and should stay home? How do I know when it's time to go to the doctor? What's the deal with my warped sense of priority toward not missing work? And where do I go from here? I feel some better, and think I'll be good tomorrow (hope springs eternal!!!!), but how will I ever catch up from getting so behind on everything except work?
I don't have answers right now, but this stuff (thoughts, not just the drainage) has been going on in my head all week, and it continues to be helpful to write it down. It's also crucial that I continue to pray and trust in God. Even in what seems like a wasted week, I can't forget to pray to know and do God's will, to His glory. I have to admit I think I did forget to pray along the way some. There is always so much to be grateful for. Writing about it, including the parts where I'm a bit embarrassed about how I deal with things -- and being able to put it out there for anyone who wants to read it -- keeps me moving forward. May I remain hopeful, grateful and faithful.
I struggle with decisionmaking in many areas of my life, but one of the biggest struggles is in the area of sickness. The good news is that I'm not sick very much (thank you, God, and praying for continued health!). The bad news is that when symptoms start to appear, I don't seem to respond very well. The problem with my response typically isn't that I overreact and hibernate. Instead, I tend to discount the symptoms and rationalize that I'm not really sick. I self-analyze my symptoms and their onset, and I come up with what seems like a logical conclusion to me that it's probably just drainage resulting from pollen, that I'm not contagious, and I might as well go to work anyway. By the time I can't deny I was really sick, some of the gunk from the drainage has settled into my upper chest, and I feel worse than ever, with a nasty cough, runny nose, watery eyes, congestion, sore throat but somehow not much of a headache or other pain.
This time, the first symptoms showed up on Sunday, as I was unexpectedly very tired as I prepared to drive home from a weekend trip to Arkansas. But being tired made sense after a busy weekend, so I didn't think much of it. And even when I started to have a runny nose and drainage the next day, I truly thought it was sinuses or allergies, not a cold. I didn't have a cold or a fever. I didn't feel that bad. I might as well work. So I worked Monday. And Tuesday. By Wednesday, I was glad it was a short workday, thinking that if I skipped choir practice, I'd probably feel fine by Thursday. So, I'm not sure what happened Thursday morning, but looking back, I can tell that by then the common sense part of my brain had frozen. Because even though I obviously wasn't getting any better, I rationalized that I might be, and that I didn't want to leave people in a bind at work. And I didn't feel THAT bad, did I? By time I left work, I was pretty sure I felt pretty bad! But when Friday came, for some reason I decided I should work again. Same thought: I don't want to leave them in a bind. And even though midway through the 10-hour shift I knew I'd made a mistake in coming to work, I didn't leave, even as I could see they would have been OK without me.
So I reached the weekend hoping that by staying in bed except to eat and medicate on Saturday would turn the corner for me, so I'd be able to go to church. But I was wrong again. By Sunday morning, I could tell I didn't feel enough better to have any business going to church. So I'm still at the house. I hoped I might feel better by 4, so I might shower and go to my Bible study anyway. But I don't think that's happening, either.
So many issues. Among them ....
-- Why don't I go to a doctor? Because whenever I have gone, it hasn't seemed to help. Or that's how it seems from experience. But in this case, it occurs to me now that I probably should have gone when I wasn't better by Thursday. Now, however, I think I'm on the getting-better side, so I don't think I need to go. (Will I NEVER LEARN!!!!)
-- I have a good work ethic, and I'm proud of that. I don't miss work without a good reason, and I try to give reasonable notice. But there's a warp in my ethic when it comes to sickness, apparently. I don't want to leave people in a bind. I don't want to be a wimp. And I just never have a good feel for whether I really am sick.
-- Work is not my God, but when I look at the past week, I don't like the pattern I see about what I attended to every day (work) and the many things I let go, including recovery meetings, church, choir practice, Bible study, exercise and routine chores. My rationale is that everyone else has to fill in the gap at work if I'm gone, and church and everything else seems to go on fine without me, and that I'm the only one who suffers.
In hopes that this won't have been a wasted week, I'm trying to find some lessons in the experience. What is that line for me when I should recognize that I'm really sick and should stay home? How do I know when it's time to go to the doctor? What's the deal with my warped sense of priority toward not missing work? And where do I go from here? I feel some better, and think I'll be good tomorrow (hope springs eternal!!!!), but how will I ever catch up from getting so behind on everything except work?
I don't have answers right now, but this stuff (thoughts, not just the drainage) has been going on in my head all week, and it continues to be helpful to write it down. It's also crucial that I continue to pray and trust in God. Even in what seems like a wasted week, I can't forget to pray to know and do God's will, to His glory. I have to admit I think I did forget to pray along the way some. There is always so much to be grateful for. Writing about it, including the parts where I'm a bit embarrassed about how I deal with things -- and being able to put it out there for anyone who wants to read it -- keeps me moving forward. May I remain hopeful, grateful and faithful.
Friday, November 19, 2010
The journey continues
I realized last Saturday that I missed my blog anniversary. And I'm just now writing about it! Amazing.
I started Nov. 5, 2009. My goals were pretty meager.
-- Post at least one thing each week.
-- Feel free to go back in and edit.
-- See where it leads.
-- Give the glory to God.
The good news is that I can say I've achieved them. The bad news is that the goals were pretty meager, so I'm not sure I accomplished much.
It's been much more me-focused than I had hoped. I would like to be writing more descriptive narrative expressing appreciation for things I see outside myself, rather than so much about what's going on in my own life and mind. But maybe that's like wishing I could sing with a more resonant voice, or wishing I could swim and dive. I've made attempts to learn those things, and what I was being taught just didn't seem to work for me. It's like trying to write right-handed. Some people can do it well, myself included, others not so much. Maybe my distinct writing voice, like my singing voice, is destined to be fairly simple. To the casual observer, it probably seems immature and undeveloped. And maybe that's OK. Simple things deserve appreciation, too, perhaps.
One of my recent spiritual lessons has included a look at why some churches are good at raising money and doing whatever it takes to accomplish great things, while it seems as if the ones I am most closely connected to struggle even to meet operating expenses and adequately pay the pastor and staff. Yes, we get a lot done in ministry and fellowship and caring for people within and outside the congregation, but when it comes to doing GREAT things for God, it seems I'm not the only one who's holding back mightily. A thought I had about this during last Sunday's sermon (drawn from verses in Nehemiah 6) was that maybe I'd get lost in one of those churches filled with supergenerous saints. Maybe God also needs the witness of churches filled with people who struggle to respond to His call. And maybe I need the struggle to stay real.
I was pondering some of this as I drove to work one day this week, and I had to ask myself (again): Who am I to say this isn't exactly how God wants me to be? As I told a friend, the way I am seems pretty lame to me, but God keeps finding ways to use me. But how do I know for sure whether this is God's perfect will for me, or whether He's just continuing to work all things, even my failure to achieve my best for Him, to His greater good. (Did I say I have a simple voice? Maybe I should have said simplistic -- underdeveloped and confused. Fortunately, it's also a probing voice that keeps seeking to know more.)
So, I'll keep on keeping on, with the blog and with life and with seeking to know and do God's will. Sometimes an anniversary or birthday or new year prompts me to set new goals. I think I'll just keep the ones I have for the blog. But I am praying to become willing to be willing to set some goals for specific aspects of my life, especially regarding specific uses of time and money where I know my excesses don't really hurt anyone, and maybe not even me, but I also know that adjustments would surely enrich my life and my ability to help others.
As I wrote in the first blog post: The urge to write never leaves. ... When I joined FaceBook recently to help stay in touch with family members, something about the power of written expression was rekindled within me. Framing thoughts into phrases or sentences and then posting them -- publishing them -- invigorated me. And when FaceBook friends commented .... wow! I've had to ask myself: Is this a blessing or a curse? I've asked the question prayerfully, and so far, the answer is that it's a blessing. And so I've started what is a new adventure for me. It's possible nothing will show up on this blog that will be of interest to anyone other than the writer. But it's also possible something will emerge that is worth the time and thought of a reader. I look forward to finding out.
The journey continues!
I started Nov. 5, 2009. My goals were pretty meager.
-- Post at least one thing each week.
-- Feel free to go back in and edit.
-- See where it leads.
-- Give the glory to God.
The good news is that I can say I've achieved them. The bad news is that the goals were pretty meager, so I'm not sure I accomplished much.
It's been much more me-focused than I had hoped. I would like to be writing more descriptive narrative expressing appreciation for things I see outside myself, rather than so much about what's going on in my own life and mind. But maybe that's like wishing I could sing with a more resonant voice, or wishing I could swim and dive. I've made attempts to learn those things, and what I was being taught just didn't seem to work for me. It's like trying to write right-handed. Some people can do it well, myself included, others not so much. Maybe my distinct writing voice, like my singing voice, is destined to be fairly simple. To the casual observer, it probably seems immature and undeveloped. And maybe that's OK. Simple things deserve appreciation, too, perhaps.
One of my recent spiritual lessons has included a look at why some churches are good at raising money and doing whatever it takes to accomplish great things, while it seems as if the ones I am most closely connected to struggle even to meet operating expenses and adequately pay the pastor and staff. Yes, we get a lot done in ministry and fellowship and caring for people within and outside the congregation, but when it comes to doing GREAT things for God, it seems I'm not the only one who's holding back mightily. A thought I had about this during last Sunday's sermon (drawn from verses in Nehemiah 6) was that maybe I'd get lost in one of those churches filled with supergenerous saints. Maybe God also needs the witness of churches filled with people who struggle to respond to His call. And maybe I need the struggle to stay real.
I was pondering some of this as I drove to work one day this week, and I had to ask myself (again): Who am I to say this isn't exactly how God wants me to be? As I told a friend, the way I am seems pretty lame to me, but God keeps finding ways to use me. But how do I know for sure whether this is God's perfect will for me, or whether He's just continuing to work all things, even my failure to achieve my best for Him, to His greater good. (Did I say I have a simple voice? Maybe I should have said simplistic -- underdeveloped and confused. Fortunately, it's also a probing voice that keeps seeking to know more.)
So, I'll keep on keeping on, with the blog and with life and with seeking to know and do God's will. Sometimes an anniversary or birthday or new year prompts me to set new goals. I think I'll just keep the ones I have for the blog. But I am praying to become willing to be willing to set some goals for specific aspects of my life, especially regarding specific uses of time and money where I know my excesses don't really hurt anyone, and maybe not even me, but I also know that adjustments would surely enrich my life and my ability to help others.
As I wrote in the first blog post: The urge to write never leaves. ... When I joined FaceBook recently to help stay in touch with family members, something about the power of written expression was rekindled within me. Framing thoughts into phrases or sentences and then posting them -- publishing them -- invigorated me. And when FaceBook friends commented .... wow! I've had to ask myself: Is this a blessing or a curse? I've asked the question prayerfully, and so far, the answer is that it's a blessing. And so I've started what is a new adventure for me. It's possible nothing will show up on this blog that will be of interest to anyone other than the writer. But it's also possible something will emerge that is worth the time and thought of a reader. I look forward to finding out.
The journey continues!
Saturday, October 16, 2010
Was that an earthquake?
What a strange and amazing week. Probably the best I can do is record some highlights and maybe offer a reflection or two.
The strangest: At 9:06 a.m. Wednesday, while standing in the bathroom using the curling iron on my hair, I heard what sounded like just a loud truck rumbling on the busy street behind the house. But then I realized that not only were the windows rattling, but the walls were moving -- rocking. Could this be an earthquake? It turned out that, yes, it was an earthquake. I think they finally decided it was a 4.7, with its epicenter east of Norman. In the news, there was a discussion of which is scarier, an earthquake or a tornado. Are you kidding me? If we're talking about Oklahoma, a tornado is scarier, hands-down. I'd say earthquakes aren't as scary when you don't have so many multistory buildings and complex transportation systems. Now, if they're talking about tornadoes in Oklahoma vs. earthquakes in California, that might be different. Then I'd probably take my chances with an Oklahoma tornado.
The best: Continued progress of my 84-year-old dad after surgery to remove part of his lung. I'm still amazed beyond expression when I think of how this has gone so far. Yes, it was painful, and healing and rehab are slow processes. But the starting point was so far ahead of anything I could have imagined, and really things seem to continue to go more smoothly than I could have hoped each step of the way. I just praise God continually for this and seek to know how to respond to His glory.
Some of the rest:
-- While I watched with Dad at the hospital, the Texas Rangers baseball team could not get a win in front of their home fans, blowing what looked like a sure-fire, feel-good win last Saturday and barely even showing up Sunday, forcing a Game 5 on the road in the American League Division Series against Tampa Bay. Sure, the Rangers had Cliff Lee pitching. But no team had ever won a series without winning at home. (I think that's the stat.) And the Rangers had never won a postseason series. Well, the Rangers managed to do it. And now this weekend, after blowing a 5-1 lead in the eighth inning at home last night and surely dooming themselves to futility against their postseason nemesis, the New York Yankees, today they did hold on to a similar lead, ending the Yankees streak and getting their first-ever home win in the postseason. It's a best of seven, and I have to believe that anything is possible. And today's win proves they belong in the postseason, no matter what happens the rest of the way. What fun!
-- On another hand, I can't even think of what to write about the Texas Aggies and Dallas Cowboys football teams. I'll say I'm still a fan, but whatever happens the rest of the way this season (short of a Super Bowl for the Cowboys), the teams are disappointing. It's one thing to lose some games, but it's really frustrating when teams are so mistake prone playing on college and professional levels. (Watching the Aggies this season and also following the Kansas Jayhawks reminds me again how glad I am that the four years my nephew played for Kansas included a magical 11-1 season. So many things have to go right for that to happen. It seemed magical at the time, and seeing how things have played out since then make it continue to seem so.)
--Aware that spending extra time visiting my parents in Texas while Dad was in the hospital and now rehab and trying to help Mom out some has kept me from doing much with my husband or around our house, I tried to give more attention to these areas this week. I didn't have much success, but I'll keep trying. (I hope it doesn't take the Rangers bowing out of the playoffs for me to free up some time; I'm trying not to let games distract me. I'm trying ......)
--When he asked me to help him paint the house trim this weekend, I knew I wanted to (even though I knew it would mean not giving full attention to some ball games today!). I'm constantly amazed at just how clueless I am when it comes to knowing what to do on such projects. I have to be guided in every task, and most things seem harder or more awkward than I think they should. But I tried to persevere. And Gene did seem to appreciate the effort and whatever small help it amounted to. Unfortunately, I also caused a great deal more work, because of my blunder that involved driving into the garage when I came home after taking a break to go to a meeting. As I drove into the garage, I was deep in thought -- possibly even prayer -- about how I could be a good worker and how Gene and I could be a good team this afternoon. And the next thing I knew, I heard something my front bumper pushing something. What was that? I backed up and saw through my sunglasses that I had run into paint buckets, knocking over one and dumping paint on the garage floor! What a mess! I screamed for Gene, and he came running. Poor man. He was already tired from working all morning, including while I was gone, and then he had to guide in cleaning up this mess. But you know, he did it, telling me how he needed me to do things to be helpful. We got it cleaned up and then returned to the trim. Without a doubt, Gene does most of the work on such projects. I mainly held the ladder, rolled some of the paint and cleaned up trash. We still have a little to finish. But it's looking great. And I'm strangely grateful that Gene didn't just tell me to go into the house and quit trying to help after my big mess. I guess hope springs eternal for him, too, that someday I will be an efficient and effective helper.
There's more that I could write, but this has gotten longer than I wanted it to be, so I'm going to stop. This is clearly one of those times that the only reason I'm writing right now is to meet that self-imposed deadline of posting something to my blog at least once each week. Somehow it still seems better for me to do it than not to do it. And it was fun to record those thoughts. Maybe someday I'll know why.
The strangest: At 9:06 a.m. Wednesday, while standing in the bathroom using the curling iron on my hair, I heard what sounded like just a loud truck rumbling on the busy street behind the house. But then I realized that not only were the windows rattling, but the walls were moving -- rocking. Could this be an earthquake? It turned out that, yes, it was an earthquake. I think they finally decided it was a 4.7, with its epicenter east of Norman. In the news, there was a discussion of which is scarier, an earthquake or a tornado. Are you kidding me? If we're talking about Oklahoma, a tornado is scarier, hands-down. I'd say earthquakes aren't as scary when you don't have so many multistory buildings and complex transportation systems. Now, if they're talking about tornadoes in Oklahoma vs. earthquakes in California, that might be different. Then I'd probably take my chances with an Oklahoma tornado.
The best: Continued progress of my 84-year-old dad after surgery to remove part of his lung. I'm still amazed beyond expression when I think of how this has gone so far. Yes, it was painful, and healing and rehab are slow processes. But the starting point was so far ahead of anything I could have imagined, and really things seem to continue to go more smoothly than I could have hoped each step of the way. I just praise God continually for this and seek to know how to respond to His glory.
Some of the rest:
-- While I watched with Dad at the hospital, the Texas Rangers baseball team could not get a win in front of their home fans, blowing what looked like a sure-fire, feel-good win last Saturday and barely even showing up Sunday, forcing a Game 5 on the road in the American League Division Series against Tampa Bay. Sure, the Rangers had Cliff Lee pitching. But no team had ever won a series without winning at home. (I think that's the stat.) And the Rangers had never won a postseason series. Well, the Rangers managed to do it. And now this weekend, after blowing a 5-1 lead in the eighth inning at home last night and surely dooming themselves to futility against their postseason nemesis, the New York Yankees, today they did hold on to a similar lead, ending the Yankees streak and getting their first-ever home win in the postseason. It's a best of seven, and I have to believe that anything is possible. And today's win proves they belong in the postseason, no matter what happens the rest of the way. What fun!
-- On another hand, I can't even think of what to write about the Texas Aggies and Dallas Cowboys football teams. I'll say I'm still a fan, but whatever happens the rest of the way this season (short of a Super Bowl for the Cowboys), the teams are disappointing. It's one thing to lose some games, but it's really frustrating when teams are so mistake prone playing on college and professional levels. (Watching the Aggies this season and also following the Kansas Jayhawks reminds me again how glad I am that the four years my nephew played for Kansas included a magical 11-1 season. So many things have to go right for that to happen. It seemed magical at the time, and seeing how things have played out since then make it continue to seem so.)
--Aware that spending extra time visiting my parents in Texas while Dad was in the hospital and now rehab and trying to help Mom out some has kept me from doing much with my husband or around our house, I tried to give more attention to these areas this week. I didn't have much success, but I'll keep trying. (I hope it doesn't take the Rangers bowing out of the playoffs for me to free up some time; I'm trying not to let games distract me. I'm trying ......)
--When he asked me to help him paint the house trim this weekend, I knew I wanted to (even though I knew it would mean not giving full attention to some ball games today!). I'm constantly amazed at just how clueless I am when it comes to knowing what to do on such projects. I have to be guided in every task, and most things seem harder or more awkward than I think they should. But I tried to persevere. And Gene did seem to appreciate the effort and whatever small help it amounted to. Unfortunately, I also caused a great deal more work, because of my blunder that involved driving into the garage when I came home after taking a break to go to a meeting. As I drove into the garage, I was deep in thought -- possibly even prayer -- about how I could be a good worker and how Gene and I could be a good team this afternoon. And the next thing I knew, I heard something my front bumper pushing something. What was that? I backed up and saw through my sunglasses that I had run into paint buckets, knocking over one and dumping paint on the garage floor! What a mess! I screamed for Gene, and he came running. Poor man. He was already tired from working all morning, including while I was gone, and then he had to guide in cleaning up this mess. But you know, he did it, telling me how he needed me to do things to be helpful. We got it cleaned up and then returned to the trim. Without a doubt, Gene does most of the work on such projects. I mainly held the ladder, rolled some of the paint and cleaned up trash. We still have a little to finish. But it's looking great. And I'm strangely grateful that Gene didn't just tell me to go into the house and quit trying to help after my big mess. I guess hope springs eternal for him, too, that someday I will be an efficient and effective helper.
There's more that I could write, but this has gotten longer than I wanted it to be, so I'm going to stop. This is clearly one of those times that the only reason I'm writing right now is to meet that self-imposed deadline of posting something to my blog at least once each week. Somehow it still seems better for me to do it than not to do it. And it was fun to record those thoughts. Maybe someday I'll know why.
Thursday, August 12, 2010
Swinging for the fences
I've been going through a period of second-guessing and self-doubt. It's what has kept me from writing about the reunion and some other topics that have been on my mind and heart, including issues about singing and insights about the bunny in the neighboring backyard (I observe him often because there's no fence between us).
I need to remember that the best part of this blog for me is that I can write through the writer's block or whatever it is. I don't have to have a strong lead or theme going in. I have all the space I need to write until I find out what it was I needed to write about. Now, whether I have all the time I need is another matter, and it's a major source of second-guessing and self-doubt. Many times when I sit down to write, I think I should be doing something else. Many other things should be more important, shouldn't they?
Perhaps. But as the guest preacher at church said Sunday (this is me poorly paraphrasing her paraphrase of a prayer she learned in college): Lord, please help me know what you would have me do in this situation. And if I choose the wrong thing, I pray that you can use even that for good.
One of the things I tend to waste time doing is watching sports on television. Last Saturday, I happened to catch some of the Pro Football Hall of Fame induction ceremony. Dallas Cowboy great Emmitt Smith's speech was filled with examples of faith and gratitude for others, but also amazing clarity in setting goals and achieving them. He almost came across too perfect to be real. The next day, I heard him in an interview, where he was asked how he did that without having it written out or using a teleprompter. He said he wanted it to be from the heart. But he admitted he forgot something important, because he had not mentioned his college team, the Florida Gators. Now, some commentators said they thought it was intentional (some lingering resentment about something), but I just don't think it could have been. But for me, it was a good reminder that even someone who is so confident, goal-oriented, successful and faithful (interesting that humble does not come to mind as an accurate description) also isn't perfect.
Emmitt's speech was sandwiched between some Texas Rangers baseball games for me. I don't remember whether they won or lost on Saturday and Sunday afternoon, but I know they are in a pennant race, and it's hard for me not to get caught up in the frenzy, although teams I follow always tend to fizzle before the finish. Even now, this team can be so good on hitting, pitching and defense, but sometimes they make mistakes that just seem stupid.
Sometime during the past week, I realized that I can relate baseball to me and singing. Josh Hamilton is my favorite player, and I always want him to at least get a hit, and it's awesome when he gets a home run. But you know what? He usually strikes out, flies out or grounds out at least once or twice a game, and often more. And yet I, an untrained singer, expect to hit a home run every time I sing for church or family. What's up with that?
(I was talking to a friend about this, and the question came up: What would be a home run regarding singing at church? I said that would be when I'm just totally trusting God and singing to His glory, and not worrying about how I sound or what people think, although somehow in such moments, I do also feel connected to those who are listening. It comes from preparation that includes choosing, learning and practicing a song, eating right, resting, praying. And then just trusting. I guess it's often what seems to me a lack of preparation that keeps me from fully trusting, even though I've seen over and over that God is able to use even those situations to his glory.)
Sometimes when I watch the Rangers, I think they're too relaxed. Sometimes Josh comes up to the plate, and they really need a home run, and he just hits the ball to second base or strikes out. But I've also heard athletes and coaches say that a key for them is to not get too high about a win (or a home run) or to low about a loss (a strikeout or error). That's something I struggle with greatly, whether watching a sports team or taking part in my own game of life.
As I continue to ramble and try to wrap this up, another thought comes to mind about something the guest preacher said Sunday. She was talking about a church member who felt certain the world was going to end on Dec. 31 one year, and the woman had prepared for that. And when it didn't happen, she didn't know what to do. The pastor asked her what she did before Dec. 31. Did she love God with all her heart, mind, soul and strength? Did she love her neighbor as herself? Did she walk humbly with God? (There were others, I know they are in the Bible, but I wasn't taking notes and can't remember and am flat out of time -- beyond out of time!) She told the woman she should just keep doing those things. (The pastor also offered a quip that I'm sure I've heard before, but it sounded fresh, that maybe the reason the world hasn't ended yet is because people keep making predictions, and God has to cross those dates off his list because He said in His word that no one will know the time in advance. It got a pretty good laugh.)
I need to remember that the best part of this blog for me is that I can write through the writer's block or whatever it is. I don't have to have a strong lead or theme going in. I have all the space I need to write until I find out what it was I needed to write about. Now, whether I have all the time I need is another matter, and it's a major source of second-guessing and self-doubt. Many times when I sit down to write, I think I should be doing something else. Many other things should be more important, shouldn't they?
Perhaps. But as the guest preacher at church said Sunday (this is me poorly paraphrasing her paraphrase of a prayer she learned in college): Lord, please help me know what you would have me do in this situation. And if I choose the wrong thing, I pray that you can use even that for good.
One of the things I tend to waste time doing is watching sports on television. Last Saturday, I happened to catch some of the Pro Football Hall of Fame induction ceremony. Dallas Cowboy great Emmitt Smith's speech was filled with examples of faith and gratitude for others, but also amazing clarity in setting goals and achieving them. He almost came across too perfect to be real. The next day, I heard him in an interview, where he was asked how he did that without having it written out or using a teleprompter. He said he wanted it to be from the heart. But he admitted he forgot something important, because he had not mentioned his college team, the Florida Gators. Now, some commentators said they thought it was intentional (some lingering resentment about something), but I just don't think it could have been. But for me, it was a good reminder that even someone who is so confident, goal-oriented, successful and faithful (interesting that humble does not come to mind as an accurate description) also isn't perfect.
Emmitt's speech was sandwiched between some Texas Rangers baseball games for me. I don't remember whether they won or lost on Saturday and Sunday afternoon, but I know they are in a pennant race, and it's hard for me not to get caught up in the frenzy, although teams I follow always tend to fizzle before the finish. Even now, this team can be so good on hitting, pitching and defense, but sometimes they make mistakes that just seem stupid.
Sometime during the past week, I realized that I can relate baseball to me and singing. Josh Hamilton is my favorite player, and I always want him to at least get a hit, and it's awesome when he gets a home run. But you know what? He usually strikes out, flies out or grounds out at least once or twice a game, and often more. And yet I, an untrained singer, expect to hit a home run every time I sing for church or family. What's up with that?
(I was talking to a friend about this, and the question came up: What would be a home run regarding singing at church? I said that would be when I'm just totally trusting God and singing to His glory, and not worrying about how I sound or what people think, although somehow in such moments, I do also feel connected to those who are listening. It comes from preparation that includes choosing, learning and practicing a song, eating right, resting, praying. And then just trusting. I guess it's often what seems to me a lack of preparation that keeps me from fully trusting, even though I've seen over and over that God is able to use even those situations to his glory.)
Sometimes when I watch the Rangers, I think they're too relaxed. Sometimes Josh comes up to the plate, and they really need a home run, and he just hits the ball to second base or strikes out. But I've also heard athletes and coaches say that a key for them is to not get too high about a win (or a home run) or to low about a loss (a strikeout or error). That's something I struggle with greatly, whether watching a sports team or taking part in my own game of life.
As I continue to ramble and try to wrap this up, another thought comes to mind about something the guest preacher said Sunday. She was talking about a church member who felt certain the world was going to end on Dec. 31 one year, and the woman had prepared for that. And when it didn't happen, she didn't know what to do. The pastor asked her what she did before Dec. 31. Did she love God with all her heart, mind, soul and strength? Did she love her neighbor as herself? Did she walk humbly with God? (There were others, I know they are in the Bible, but I wasn't taking notes and can't remember and am flat out of time -- beyond out of time!) She told the woman she should just keep doing those things. (The pastor also offered a quip that I'm sure I've heard before, but it sounded fresh, that maybe the reason the world hasn't ended yet is because people keep making predictions, and God has to cross those dates off his list because He said in His word that no one will know the time in advance. It got a pretty good laugh.)
P.S. One other thing I gotta mention: I wasn't thrilled with my singing at my parents church, the church I grew up in, the previous week. Practice went well and it was a song I love to sing and share the message of, but when I sang during the service, I seemed disconnected. I don't know what that was about. I prayed before and during. It was more like the old confusing times of singing. And people didn't respond the same. I have continued to pray the same prayer: It's about God; it's not about me. But it was interesting. And then a woman I don't know said that I had such a youthful sounding voice. At first, I thought she might have said beautiful, but as I was trying to decide, she said I sound like a teenager. I told Mom I'm not sure what she meant by that. I know now that I probably didn't sound very good when I was a teenager. My voice was weak and undeveloped; what I heard inside my head didn't get very far beyond my mouth. But I can think of some aspects of a youthful voice that could be complimentary, especially for a 51-year-old. So why can't I just focus on those?
It made me realize that I still don't have much confidence in my singing. That singing for me is about words and feeling. And when for some reason it doesn't seem as if the feeling is there, I fear the singing isn't very good.
As usual, I just continue to lift it all up in prayer. (Is that like swinging for the fences?) I'm still hoping that writing and "publishing" will help me clarify or get rid of some of these words crowding my mind and thoughts. Unfortunately, right now it looks as if the more I write, the more I think. I know that not writing is not the answer. So, God willing, I will continue to write as I live and learn.
Thursday, August 5, 2010
Experience, remember, smile and thank God
It's my self-imposed blog-posting deadline, but none of the things I'd hoped to write about are ready. I smile to think of the family reunion in Texas; the bunny in my neighbor's backyard; my continued and growing awareness that attitude really is important and that each person can control his or her attitude; the amazing grace and camaraderie that keeps occurring at work in difficult circumstances; and so many more things. Many things make me smile right now, and I'm grateful for that. I want to write about them, but I guess it's not time yet. For now, I just experience, remember and smile. I thank God for His mercy, love and grace that blesses me daily. I pray to know how to return these blessings to His glory.
Friday, June 4, 2010
Summertime!
Being a copy editor is a challenge between Memorial Day and the official start of summer. Someone once drilled into my head that something can't be described as summer, winter, spring or fall until it really is that season. So in some silly version of jumping through hoops, I can't count how many times I changed summer to summertime or some variation thereof this week. Summertime salads. Summertime movies. Summerlike weather. I don't even know whether the rule is still in effect. We haven't gotten a reminder, but that may just be because the chief reminder has been on vacation and everyone is still overworked. Some things are getting overlooked. Many grammar and style rules I grew up with or learned along the way have fallen to the wayside.
I just know that I love summertime! So, here's to my extended summer season -- late spring to early fall. Bring it on.
I just know that I love summertime! So, here's to my extended summer season -- late spring to early fall. Bring it on.
Friday, May 28, 2010
Blog time, Memorial Day weekend edition
Tonight's writing is back to basics. There's only one reason for me to be sitting here typing right now, and it is because I made a commitment to myself, and I'm trying to follow through. The commitment/goal: Post something at least once a week, a goal later refined to mean don't go more than seven days (Saturday to Saturday, etc.) without posting.
There have been things I've wanted to write about (Relay for Life; joy of working hard; a fascinating Psalm passage; getting locked out of choir practice) before and since I posted last Saturday, but I've ended up being too tired by day's end to even try. It would have been nice to have one of those rare moments where words and inspiration just come, but that didn't happen.
I know most of the reason. For the past two weeks, two key people on the reduced staff at work have been gone, one for vacation and one for medical reasons. I haven't worked all that much longer these days, but the intensity has been high. By the time I get home, I feel mentally drained. Unfortunately, rather than go to bed when I feel tired, I'm more likely to lose focus and end up watching TV, surfing the Internet or reading when the very best way to spend my time would be with my body in bed and my head on a pillow.
Now it's Memorial Day weekend. I'm so far behind, I don't even know where to start in trying to catch up at home and then also to enjoy the holiday. I guess I've started by blogging. Tomorrow, I may watch the Texas Aggies play baseball here in the Big 12 tournament. I can't even justify in my own mind why that's worth doing, but I want to do it, and I can, so I think I will. (I think I'll take a book and some paper to write on, though, in case my mind starts wandering, I start second-guessing myself, and the ideas flow!)
For some reason, that made me realize the holiday also brings up some emotional issues, involving such things as my own lack of knowledge of history and my connection to it. It's one of those times when I think there are probably things I should be doing, but again, I don't even know where to begin.
Tonight, it starts with writing and posting. Before the weekend's over, it will include some precious time spent visiting my parents and other family members. Maybe there will be questions and conversations to stir memories. Or maybe there will just be the peace and comfort of shared presence and being away from the craziness of work for an extra day. I'm ready.
There have been things I've wanted to write about (Relay for Life; joy of working hard; a fascinating Psalm passage; getting locked out of choir practice) before and since I posted last Saturday, but I've ended up being too tired by day's end to even try. It would have been nice to have one of those rare moments where words and inspiration just come, but that didn't happen.
I know most of the reason. For the past two weeks, two key people on the reduced staff at work have been gone, one for vacation and one for medical reasons. I haven't worked all that much longer these days, but the intensity has been high. By the time I get home, I feel mentally drained. Unfortunately, rather than go to bed when I feel tired, I'm more likely to lose focus and end up watching TV, surfing the Internet or reading when the very best way to spend my time would be with my body in bed and my head on a pillow.
Now it's Memorial Day weekend. I'm so far behind, I don't even know where to start in trying to catch up at home and then also to enjoy the holiday. I guess I've started by blogging. Tomorrow, I may watch the Texas Aggies play baseball here in the Big 12 tournament. I can't even justify in my own mind why that's worth doing, but I want to do it, and I can, so I think I will. (I think I'll take a book and some paper to write on, though, in case my mind starts wandering, I start second-guessing myself, and the ideas flow!)
For some reason, that made me realize the holiday also brings up some emotional issues, involving such things as my own lack of knowledge of history and my connection to it. It's one of those times when I think there are probably things I should be doing, but again, I don't even know where to begin.
Tonight, it starts with writing and posting. Before the weekend's over, it will include some precious time spent visiting my parents and other family members. Maybe there will be questions and conversations to stir memories. Or maybe there will just be the peace and comfort of shared presence and being away from the craziness of work for an extra day. I'm ready.
Tuesday, January 19, 2010
That time again
Here it is again: The seventh day. Time to publish. Unfortunately, there's another traffic jam on my creative expressway.
The week included experiences and observations that seemed worth sharing or commenting on, but when I sit down to write, the words are not there.
I think it's just a matter of time and balance and patience before the words do start flowing again.
For now, I'm grateful for continued progress at work (starting to edit some on the Web, not letting little things get me down), in relationships (doing more things with spouse, asking a friend to sing a duet with me at a church talent show), in commitments (daily Bible reading and stewardship study reading), in following through, in having fun (going to movies and basketball games) and in taking worthwhile risks.
And I'm continuing to pray for wisdom and ability to know and do God's will, one moment at a time, in all things, to His glory. That may sound trite, or it may sound cliche or it may sound too general to be of value as a prayer, but it's been my prayer for longer than I can remember now, and I see it answered many times each day. And I'm continuing to thank Him daily for His mercy, love and grace that covers my shortcomings and makes life a blessing and a joy.
The week included experiences and observations that seemed worth sharing or commenting on, but when I sit down to write, the words are not there.
I think it's just a matter of time and balance and patience before the words do start flowing again.
For now, I'm grateful for continued progress at work (starting to edit some on the Web, not letting little things get me down), in relationships (doing more things with spouse, asking a friend to sing a duet with me at a church talent show), in commitments (daily Bible reading and stewardship study reading), in following through, in having fun (going to movies and basketball games) and in taking worthwhile risks.
And I'm continuing to pray for wisdom and ability to know and do God's will, one moment at a time, in all things, to His glory. That may sound trite, or it may sound cliche or it may sound too general to be of value as a prayer, but it's been my prayer for longer than I can remember now, and I see it answered many times each day. And I'm continuing to thank Him daily for His mercy, love and grace that covers my shortcomings and makes life a blessing and a joy.
Tuesday, December 15, 2009
Target practice
This is one of those nights I needed to just sit down and write. I got home early, because the latest haircut appointment I could get was 5:30. Taking off early today offset some of last week's long days. I was glad to be able to do it, even though I'd forgotten how bad traffic is between north Oklahoma City and Norman at 5 p.m. on a weekday. I was 10 minutes late, but it didn't seem to be a problem. I'm grateful for that.
I stopped at Target afterward, trying to decide what to take for my department's Christmas lunch tomorrow. I'd decided to make my own variation of festive Christmas Tree Appetizers (the recipe will be in the newspaper tomorrow, but I know it already, because I edited it!). But I talked myself out of it. And that brings me to why I'm writing tonight.
I'm trying to peel back some of the layers of whatever it is I get hung up in or covered up by each December. I don't expect to get it all sorted through this year. I have no expectations regarding results.
At times in my life, I've called this exercise verbal vomit. But that was when the confusion in my head seemed hopeless, sick and nothing but negative. That's not the case now. I still don't understand why I think and act the way I do -- and why I can't just change those many, many things I don't like about how I think and act -- but most of the time I don't feel hopeless or depressed about these things now. I'm able to say a prayer, count some blessings and find a positive step. (It may sound trite or cliche, but simply saying a prayer and finding something to be grateful for has changed every situation I've ever allowed it to touch.)
Anyway, what I faced tonight at Target was something I seem to have done all of my adult life. It's Christmastime, and I'm shopping -- and I have no idea what to buy. I can't decide what to buy for presents, for food to take to parties, for decorations. Sometimes I think I've decided (see the Christmas Tree Appetizers, above), and then I talk myself out of it. My arguments against are always sound and typically are born of experience. In the food situation, I know if I take food, I will want to eat food. And if I start eating party food at work, I'll eat too much and feel miserable. (That's not even considering that I'd probably start eating too much while I was preparing the food.) Most people may be able to eat too much and not feel miserable or at least not let it ruin their day, but I'm not those people. So I bought a bag of healthy chips and will just take that. I'm going to try to socialize without eating the goodies. I don't know if I can. But today I declined one of my most favorite snacks -- Chex mix made just right (just the right amount of extra butter, nuts and seasoning) -- and don't feel deprived. So I know it's possible.
That's all I'm going to write about tonight. Maybe I'll explore more of these later, such as why it's so hard to even figure out which GIFT CARDS to buy family members.
I wish I could think of a better ending. Oh well. Time to go wash clothes, pedal or something. Gratefully and smiling.
I stopped at Target afterward, trying to decide what to take for my department's Christmas lunch tomorrow. I'd decided to make my own variation of festive Christmas Tree Appetizers (the recipe will be in the newspaper tomorrow, but I know it already, because I edited it!). But I talked myself out of it. And that brings me to why I'm writing tonight.
I'm trying to peel back some of the layers of whatever it is I get hung up in or covered up by each December. I don't expect to get it all sorted through this year. I have no expectations regarding results.
At times in my life, I've called this exercise verbal vomit. But that was when the confusion in my head seemed hopeless, sick and nothing but negative. That's not the case now. I still don't understand why I think and act the way I do -- and why I can't just change those many, many things I don't like about how I think and act -- but most of the time I don't feel hopeless or depressed about these things now. I'm able to say a prayer, count some blessings and find a positive step. (It may sound trite or cliche, but simply saying a prayer and finding something to be grateful for has changed every situation I've ever allowed it to touch.)
Anyway, what I faced tonight at Target was something I seem to have done all of my adult life. It's Christmastime, and I'm shopping -- and I have no idea what to buy. I can't decide what to buy for presents, for food to take to parties, for decorations. Sometimes I think I've decided (see the Christmas Tree Appetizers, above), and then I talk myself out of it. My arguments against are always sound and typically are born of experience. In the food situation, I know if I take food, I will want to eat food. And if I start eating party food at work, I'll eat too much and feel miserable. (That's not even considering that I'd probably start eating too much while I was preparing the food.) Most people may be able to eat too much and not feel miserable or at least not let it ruin their day, but I'm not those people. So I bought a bag of healthy chips and will just take that. I'm going to try to socialize without eating the goodies. I don't know if I can. But today I declined one of my most favorite snacks -- Chex mix made just right (just the right amount of extra butter, nuts and seasoning) -- and don't feel deprived. So I know it's possible.
That's all I'm going to write about tonight. Maybe I'll explore more of these later, such as why it's so hard to even figure out which GIFT CARDS to buy family members.
I wish I could think of a better ending. Oh well. Time to go wash clothes, pedal or something. Gratefully and smiling.
Wednesday, December 2, 2009
Following through
It's been a week since I last wrote anything here, and one of my most basic goals was to write something at least once a week. So here I am, even though I feel tired and probably have more important things to be doing.
I'm trying to become more disciplined, and maybe this is another small step. But in so doing, will I skip my daily discipline of reading three devotionals and some Scripture while pedaling my exercise bike? Unfortunately, if I skip the bike, I don't seem to sleep or digest as well. (And it's not as if I'm over-exercising; I go 30 minutes at the most, with virtually no tension!) So I'll probably go ahead and read at least a little while pedaling some, and praying.
While trying to decide whether I would actually write anything tonight, I thought of several topics and talked myself out of all except this. But now some of them are trying to fight their way into expression. I want to save them for another day, but fear I won't get to them. (Now I've spent about 15 minutes trying to write about them, and I just can't do it. So I guess there's my answer for tonight. I'll save that writing for another day and just keep praying about the issues for now.)
I'm trying to become more disciplined, and maybe this is another small step. But in so doing, will I skip my daily discipline of reading three devotionals and some Scripture while pedaling my exercise bike? Unfortunately, if I skip the bike, I don't seem to sleep or digest as well. (And it's not as if I'm over-exercising; I go 30 minutes at the most, with virtually no tension!) So I'll probably go ahead and read at least a little while pedaling some, and praying.
While trying to decide whether I would actually write anything tonight, I thought of several topics and talked myself out of all except this. But now some of them are trying to fight their way into expression. I want to save them for another day, but fear I won't get to them. (Now I've spent about 15 minutes trying to write about them, and I just can't do it. So I guess there's my answer for tonight. I'll save that writing for another day and just keep praying about the issues for now.)
Saturday, November 7, 2009
"The Spirit"
As I turned the page to November
I was grateful to take time to remember
Rich blessings of family, friendship and spirit
Sweet music of life: To hear it! To share it!
I don't know when I first wrote that (possibly mid-1990s, in a journal) or when I first used it in a published piece (I've used variations in at least 2 and maybe three or more columns in the newspaper, and once in a tribute to my parents), but it encapsulates things I'd come to recognize as driving forces to the goodness in my life.
It continues to resonate.
* The spirit is definitely God: God's love; His mercy, love, grace, graciousness, creativity, compassion, omnipotence and so many more things than I could ever write.
* It is definitely the spirit of Christ, Who gave all that I may be in relationship with God, the Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit and all of creation.
* The spirit is family: My parents, grandparents, brothers and sisters and extended family of other relatives as well as church. It seems as if more each day, I see how their lives -- breathing (spirit) on Earth and beyond -- help me look for and find the good in my life and the lives of others.
* The spirit is friendship. I've been blessed with some great ones. (Perhaps more will be written about this later!)
* The spirit is fellowship. As hard as it is sometimes for me to write, it's usually easier for me to write than to relate directly with people. Awkward is me! And still I am loved and accepted. I need not be afraid to spend time relating with people.
* The spirit is love.
* The spirit is compassion.
* The spirit is music.
* The spirit is gratitude.
There is so much more. This post is a work in progress. (In a future post, I may touch on what "the spirit" is not, at least for me.)
Like I've said, the thing I have to remember is it doesn't even matter if I have anything worth posting. That's not the point for me, at least not for now. Maybe this will evolve into something of substance, but it doesn't matter. If people are reading this, they may think they are getting to know someone (some readers would know who I am; to others I'd just be Patricia). But it's really about a writer getting to know herself and not being afraid to let others see what she finds.
Rich blessings of family, friendship and spirit
Sweet music of life:
To hear it!
To share it!
I was grateful to take time to remember
Rich blessings of family, friendship and spirit
Sweet music of life: To hear it! To share it!
I don't know when I first wrote that (possibly mid-1990s, in a journal) or when I first used it in a published piece (I've used variations in at least 2 and maybe three or more columns in the newspaper, and once in a tribute to my parents), but it encapsulates things I'd come to recognize as driving forces to the goodness in my life.
It continues to resonate.
* The spirit is definitely God: God's love; His mercy, love, grace, graciousness, creativity, compassion, omnipotence and so many more things than I could ever write.
* It is definitely the spirit of Christ, Who gave all that I may be in relationship with God, the Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit and all of creation.
* The spirit is family: My parents, grandparents, brothers and sisters and extended family of other relatives as well as church. It seems as if more each day, I see how their lives -- breathing (spirit) on Earth and beyond -- help me look for and find the good in my life and the lives of others.
* The spirit is friendship. I've been blessed with some great ones. (Perhaps more will be written about this later!)
* The spirit is fellowship. As hard as it is sometimes for me to write, it's usually easier for me to write than to relate directly with people. Awkward is me! And still I am loved and accepted. I need not be afraid to spend time relating with people.
* The spirit is love.
* The spirit is compassion.
* The spirit is music.
* The spirit is gratitude.
There is so much more. This post is a work in progress. (In a future post, I may touch on what "the spirit" is not, at least for me.)
Like I've said, the thing I have to remember is it doesn't even matter if I have anything worth posting. That's not the point for me, at least not for now. Maybe this will evolve into something of substance, but it doesn't matter. If people are reading this, they may think they are getting to know someone (some readers would know who I am; to others I'd just be Patricia). But it's really about a writer getting to know herself and not being afraid to let others see what she finds.
Rich blessings of family, friendship and spirit
Sweet music of life:
To hear it!
To share it!
Thursday, November 5, 2009
Welcome to my world
Tentative. Probing. Testing.
Smiling.
Anticipating.
It started with FaceBook. No, it started long before that. For as long as I can remember, I've been filled with feelings and thoughts. For many years, they were bottled inside. I guess over these past 50 years, I've realized it is important for me to SHARE and EXPRESS my thoughts and feelings. I chose journalism as a major in college by default. (I was good with words and didn't really want to be a teacher.) Largely due to my fear of change, writing and editing have become my lifelong career. They are also a passion.
Trying to meet deadlines -- and keep it short -- derailed the writing part of the career. So now the paycheck comes for copyediting, headline writing and a limited amount of page design. Even as an editor, my favorite part of the process is working on stories, talking to the people (in this case the reporter or another editor) to consider ways to make the stories the best they can be.
The urge to write never leaves. Neither does the inability to deal with deadlines and the myriad story possibilities and angles a reporter faces. That reality is confirmed every time I give in to temptation and volunteer to write a review or some other piece for the paper.
When I joined FaceBook recently to help stay in touch with family members, something about the power of written expression was rekindled within me. Framing thoughts into phrases or sentences and then posting them -- publishing them -- invigorated me. And when FaceBook friends commented .... wow!
I've had to ask myself: Is this a blessing or a curse? I've asked the question prayerfully, and so far, the answer is that it's a blessing. And so I've started what is a new adventure for me.
It's possible nothing will show up on this blog that will be of interest to anyone other than the writer.
But it's also possible something will emerge that is worth the time and thought of a reader.
I look forward to finding out.
Simple goals:
Post at least one thing each week.
Feel free to go back in and edit. (That's what I love about this so far!)
See where it leads.
Give the glory to God.
Smiling.
Anticipating.
It started with FaceBook. No, it started long before that. For as long as I can remember, I've been filled with feelings and thoughts. For many years, they were bottled inside. I guess over these past 50 years, I've realized it is important for me to SHARE and EXPRESS my thoughts and feelings. I chose journalism as a major in college by default. (I was good with words and didn't really want to be a teacher.) Largely due to my fear of change, writing and editing have become my lifelong career. They are also a passion.
Trying to meet deadlines -- and keep it short -- derailed the writing part of the career. So now the paycheck comes for copyediting, headline writing and a limited amount of page design. Even as an editor, my favorite part of the process is working on stories, talking to the people (in this case the reporter or another editor) to consider ways to make the stories the best they can be.
The urge to write never leaves. Neither does the inability to deal with deadlines and the myriad story possibilities and angles a reporter faces. That reality is confirmed every time I give in to temptation and volunteer to write a review or some other piece for the paper.
When I joined FaceBook recently to help stay in touch with family members, something about the power of written expression was rekindled within me. Framing thoughts into phrases or sentences and then posting them -- publishing them -- invigorated me. And when FaceBook friends commented .... wow!
I've had to ask myself: Is this a blessing or a curse? I've asked the question prayerfully, and so far, the answer is that it's a blessing. And so I've started what is a new adventure for me.
It's possible nothing will show up on this blog that will be of interest to anyone other than the writer.
But it's also possible something will emerge that is worth the time and thought of a reader.
I look forward to finding out.
Simple goals:
Post at least one thing each week.
Feel free to go back in and edit. (That's what I love about this so far!)
See where it leads.
Give the glory to God.
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