Trust and never doubt ....

Checking in with thoughts and reflections from the weekend ... 

--A precious new great-niece was born Friday. I really wanted to make the couple hour drive to Texas to see her and all the family but just couldn't do it. I'm thankful for phone conversations and pictures and comments on Facebook.  I hope to get to see her in person in two weeks. 

--"Trust and never doubt. Jesus will surely lead you out. He never failed me yet!" The choir's rousing Gospel anthem is part of why I stayed in Oklahoma instead of going to Texas this weekend. Our director has us singing with joyous hearts in ministry to God. And the director did a stunning solo of "Give Me Jesus." The sermon and Sunday school and fellowship were good, too. 

--I went to a piano recital last night by  a friend who is chasing a dream as a concert pianist. She'll be in Washington, D.C., this week in a big competition. Her playing is beautiful and soul-stirring. And her passion inspires me. I wish her the best. 

--The "Friday Night Lights" TV show officially ended Friday night. I haven't gotten to watch this Texas-based drama, which is built around  high school football but includes so much more, as regularly as I would have liked, but I've watched when I can and feel sad about it ending.  There are so many things I could write, but I'll just leave it at this for now: I don't like that it ended with Coach Taylor in Pennsylvania. What is Tami thinking? Certainly a Texas college will lure her back to be its dean of students so Eric can get back to coaching Texas kids. I just don't see how they can be happy in Pennsylvania!  Yes, I know it's a tv show, but as a native Texan in her 29th year living in Oklahoma -- and that's just one state away -- that just did not resonate as a happy ending for me. Just as I believe in my heart I will finish out my days in the Great State, I would love for that show's creators to revisit it in a couple of years as the Taylors, like so many before them, come home. "Texas forever." 

--There is probably more worth writing about,  but considering that just 30 minutes ago I had about decided not to post anything, I'm gonna be satisfied with this. I keep intending not to wait until "deadline" to write, but I'm still not having much luck with that, as continues to be the case with many of my other intentions. But there also continues to be something positive about "checking in on deadline," just as there continues to be much positive about doing whatever right thing I can even when it seems like I miss so many opportunities to act. I remember when it was worse. I believe it can be better. I trust God to show me His way. And He's never failed me!

Matters of timing

It's blog time. I was going to write about tricks of the trade -- techniques I've learned that seem effective in some areas of my life -- along with musings about why I can't seem to find such techniques to apply in other areas.

But the topic crowding my mind is timing. For everything there is a season ...

What brought it to the forefront was the tragedy at Rangers Ballpark in Arlington on Thursday, when 39-year-old firefighter Shannon Stone, who was at the baseball game with his 6-year-old son, Cooper, died after apparently losing his balance and falling over a railing and hitting his head on concrete after catching a foul ball he had asked All-Star and MVP outfielder Josh Hamilton to toss to them.

How can there be a season for something like that? All involved seemed to be engaged in life-affirming, family building, fan-friendly, innocent fun pursuits -- and such an unthinkable result occurs.

The game went on, eventually resulting in a big win for the Rangers. Players and other fans had reason to hope for the best regarding the father's condition (there were reports he was alert and talking, asking about his son) until they were informed after the game that he had died. And then what? How do you celebrate a victory when a child has just lost a father, a wife has lost a husband, a mother has lost a son, and countless others have lost a friend, comrade and hero.

Another game was played Friday, and even though they won decisively, the victory again was somber for the Rangers. Would it ever seem OK to really celebrate a win again?

I guess the answer came Saturday, when the Rangers were unlikely winners with a 2-out, 2-run walkoff homer by Josh. The team and fans -- and Josh, who'd been tormented by his part in the tragedy -- celebrated with the smiles and innocence of children.

I still can't wrap my mind and soul around how such a celebration seemed appropriate then and not the nights before. Many writers referenced Ecclesiastes -- For everything there is a season ... For a moment, it was time to play ball and celebrate.

I hope and pray that it was appropriate, and that family and friends of Shannon Stone -- and his wife and son -- somehow shared in the celebration. Reports had said Josh was Cooper's favorite player, and he and his dad had bought a new glove on the way to the ballpark, and their goal was go catch a ball from Josh. How does a child process that? How does a family?

Josh's response has been that he's just praying and praying. He's praying to know how and when to reach out to the family. In my mind, it seemed like maybe he already should have, and certainly that he should have said in his postgame comments he was thinking of the father and son as he rounded the bases. But his comments were just about baseball. That surprised me. But I believe him when he says he's praying hard for that family and about his response. And he expresses faith that God does have a plan and a hand in what's happening, even if we don't understand. I guess that makes sense.

But it sure messes with my mind. I want to believe that for everything there is a season, and I want to believe that I live by faith. But a Sunday school discussion today reminded me of what a worrier I am, and how worry really isn't compatible with faith. I pray and pray to know how to handle a situation -- or life in general -- but in reality, instead of truly trusting God to guide my steps (whether to work, play, serve or celebrate, etc.), I keep worrying and trying to figure out the right thing to do. And while I'm worrying and trying to figure out, I miss learning that a recently widowed friend was in town Friday night on a visit from Ohio. I don't know why I wasn't aware she was here. I would loved to have seen her. If only I kept closer contact with church friends ...

If only ...

I lack a good sense of timing -- what to do when. And it often leads to regret. Somehow, as events of this week made me even more aware of that weakness, they also reminded me that none of us can change the past. We can just choose our next action. Right now, I don't feel like I'm doing that very well. I'm stuck again in habits -- past actions. That's part of what the other topic would have addressed: "tricks of the trade" to change patterns and achieve better results. But that's for another time.

I've been praying as I've been writing, and the best I can come up with is that, for now, it's time to post and log off. And I do feel strengthened in my faith that God will show me what this is all about -- or use it to His glory anyway -- in His good time.

God shed His grace ...

It had been a while since I'd done a solo at church, and I was beyond ready. So I expressed to the new choir director my willingness and desire to sing at the early and late services. He suggested I do it when he was on vacation in July, so we would have special music without the choir having to sing an anthem.  Although I was a bit disappointed he wouldn't hear me sing, I knew it was a good plan. 

The Sunday of his vacation turned out to be July 3, so in the spirit of the Independence Day holiday, I decided I would sing something patriotic rather than what I had planned. "America the Beautiful" was my choice. 

At choir practice that Wednesday, I was surprised when we started a new anthem selected because we would have Communion on Sunday. It wasn't until choir practice was over that I knew for sure that the choir director had had a change of plans and would be there to lead us in this very worshipful anthem. I was glad. 

But I began to have second thoughts about singing "America the Beautiful" as a solo. I'd chosen an arrangement with a key change and that ended with a soul-stirring flourish, but I was really doubting my ability to carry it out. It was a higher key than I realized, and I also wondered whether some of those words sounded very melodic when they emerged from my mouth. I prayed as I practiced, seeking guidance and even assurance regarding how to handle this. I  worried it would sound thin or screechy. Some of the techniques our director has shared in his short time  with the choir came to my mind, and they were helpful as I practiced and tried to figure out how best to approach some notes, words and phrases. I practiced with increasing faith, even as confidence continued to elude me. 

As far as the key, God was able to remind me that I am a soprano and have the ability to sing those notes,  so I could just pretend I was singing with the whole choir. 

More lessons I took to heart from the new director: Work on technique. Practice and practice. Then let go and worship. It seemed like that happened the first service. But the second service, it seemed different, maybe less connected spiritually. And my mind or spirit couldn't seem to recall the idea of pretending the choir was singing along. But then a wonderful thing happened. At the start of the final verse, "Oh beautiful for patriot's dream ...," after the pianist played a brief fanfare, members of the congregation and choir started to stand and then join in singing! The power of the song. The power of the spirit. The power of patriotism. The power of freedom. The power of God!

How humbled and grateful I feel to be allowed to have a part in such a moment of worship and praise.   Again and again, God sheds His grace on me and all who seek Him. I pray to never stop seeking and praising Him. 

The new routine is no routine

The new routine is no routine. I need to remember that when the next few weeks tempt me to think there is a routine again. 

Since the start of the year -- after many years of starting work in the morning and going into the late afternoon or early evening -- I've gone to an ever-changing schedule that is all over the place. The first two or three months it was mostly 2 or 4 p.m. to midnight. Then it was a few months of basically 2-10, 2-12, 2-6, 12-8 and 3 pm-1 am, Monday through Friday. In June it went to Sunday through Thursday, except when I wasn't needed on Sunday, so I worked Friday. 

A mid-June vacation without a schedule fit right in with the confusion, and the vacation was punctuated by pulling an all-nighter for Relay for Life. 

And now I'm working days again, noon to 8, which in the past would have seemed normal but now is just another change before going to a month of 10-6 Monday through Friday, unless something different is needed. And that will be for just a month, and then it will probably be back to the afternoon to night shifts.

What I am so aware of is that even when -- or especially when --  my work schedule lacks routine, it is imperative for me to build structure and maintain discipline in my life.  Patterns of eating, sleeping, exercising, reading, praying and meditating are important. Most days I keep a pretty specific list of what I need to do and when. I went through a period this month of viewing that as a weakness. But today as I walked, after waking up on target after a within-range amount of pillow time, I embraced my list and willingness to use it as a strength. 

As I was walking, I thought of my Dad, whose life example includes all kinds of work schedules, including true graveyard shifts. He and lots of people, including one of my sisters, have often worked far from ideal schedules. Their examples remind me to do whatever it takes to make it work for me. For me, that  includes keeping it healthy,  which is probably why it is more of a challenge, because keeping it healthy requires discipline for me.  

That also made me think of Daddy's newest thing. A couple of days each week, he'll be going into town for pulmonary therapy. Why? To continue to build up his strength. He wants to be as healthy as he can be, even at 85. I am proud and inspired.

I sometimes wish my life were more routine or automatic. It seems as if what comes naturally for me is to do nothing. (I had some thoughts about that, too, while I walked today, that renewed my hope that I can change.) I'm grateful that I keep fighting that instinctive inertia. 

Vacation memories

My vacation from work did not go according to plan. I had two big household cleaning/organizing projects I wanted to accomplish, plus several smaller tasks, but I really can't claim any measurable success. Toward the end of the week, I started to lapse into regret and despair. I felt as if I had wasted the week.

Then I looked closer.

The main reason I scheduled this week off was so that I could be assured of having the Friday for Relay for Life in Perry. I accomplished that, plus I had time to buy and break in new shoes. Mom and two of my sisters, in addition to the sister who is my relay team captain, all spent some time at relay. That was so nice to be there with Mom, a cancer survivor. And she wouldn't have been there unless Daddy, also a cancer survivor, was OK with her leaving him home alone overnight. Mom's trip also included a shower for her great-grandson, due in September. There were many treasured moments for me.

I was also glad my vacation timing worked with the Dallas Mavericks NBA championship win. It allowed me to watch the game and postgame and even the victory parade. Unfortunately, that's probably what kept me distracted from my work projects. About midweek, I was experiencing those regrets and shame about how I'd spent my time. But even as that happened, I kept reading Scripture and devotionals that reminded me my worth is not based on what I accomplish. A couple of readings even made it seem possible that what to me seemed like wasted time might fit into God's big plan for me. So I kept looking and praying for guidance, even as I seemed not to heed it.

Another confusing but memorable aspect of my vacation was that it coincided with the Youth Force mission project at the church. I had not realized that would be the case, and when I did make the connection, I decided not to alter my personal work focus. By the end of the week, as I accomplished so little, that seemed like a big, selfish mistake. I did go to two of the worship services, and even though doing so seemed selfish, I think it was part of the plan.

There is so much more to write about my vacation, but it's deadline, so I'm posting, with grateful memories and a smile.

Let's Hear It For the Team: Dallas Mavericks, 2011 World Champions

As Game 6 of the NBA Finals between the Dallas Mavericks and the Miami Heat wound down Sunday and a Mavs championship looked imminent, I found myself thinking I wouldn't know how to react if they actually won. It turns out the reaction is that neat kind of happiness that results when you see what looks like positive efforts and hard work being rewarded. I liked that, once again, the team that played like a team, that put the team before the individual players, won the prize.

Life and sports don't always work out like that, but that's the second time this year it's happened with a team I care about. The other was in the spring, when the Texas A&M women beat Notre Dame to win the NCAA Women's Basketball Championship.

Interestingly, in both cases, it was obvious that, as far as the media (particularly ESPN, but not just ESPN) was concerned, first the Aggies and now the Mavericks wouldn't be the story whether they won or lost. I remember watching the sports coverage the day after the Aggies won, and it was all about what Notre Dame did wrong and why they should have won and what they need to do in the future. About the only coverage featuring the Aggies was what couldn't be denied: Game highlights and the trophy presentation.

Last night and today, it's been that all over again. It's all about LeBron James and what he didn't do, not about Dirk Nowitzki and what the Dallas Mavericks did. The thing is, all the focus would be on LeBron and the Heat if the Heat had won, too. So, I'm very happy the Mavericks won! Analysts and observers and even players can talk and speculate all they want, but they can't take away the Mavs' championship trophy and Dirk's MVP trophy.

I think these excerpts from an article by Mike Fisher, a journalist who has covered the Mavericks for 20 years, hit the highlights that resonate most with me today. He's talking about how Dirk, the superstar, and the whole team were playing with each other and for each other. For the team.

"This," The UberMan (Nowitzki) said, his new "NBA Champions" hat sitting crooked on his head, "is a win for team basketball." ...

Mavs coach Rick Carlisle spoke, too. ... "This is one of the unique teams in NBA history. Because it wasn't about high-flying star power. Come on, how often do we have to hear about 'The LeBron James Reality Show' and what he is or isn't doing? When are people going to talk about the purity of our game and what these guys accomplished? That's what's special. … We knew it was very important that we won this series … because of what the game is about, and what the game should stand for. … (The Mavs) have made a statement that's a colossal statement."

They made a statement, alongside Dirk and for Dirk. They did it with nary a word. They did it with a two-week-long, 48-minute-at-a-time flurry of basketball punches to an opponent that had foolishly questioned who they are and what they stand for.

As is often the case, there are lessons and there is inspiration for me from the world of sports. I may write about those later. But for now, I'm just happy to see a hard-working, and as far as I can tell, pretty humble and classy team of players win the championship. I hope victory doesn't change them. And I hope having two teams I root for carry home the prize this year doesn't change me, unless somehow it makes me a better person.

The Time? Now!

Why does it always take a seemingly worse situation to help me appreciate what I had?

After a pity party that I hope is now over, I'm back in action. No excuses. Just do it.

I've written about it before. The work schedule seems to get worse and worse, but in the honest analysis, for today, it's still a good job, and I can do what's asked of me. Yes, I squandered some opportunities for spending the off hours of the "better schedule" productively. But stewing over that is pointless and decreases the chance for future productivity.

So, today I walked. I'm blogging. I've checked off from my list a number of things large and small that as recently yesterday it seemed like I would delay just out of self-pity. And who would that have helped?

God is surely showing me again, so many things:
-- No matter how many opportunities I squander, He doesn't give up on me. He gives me another chance.
-- What looks bad to me (a schedule, etc.) usually isn't as bad as I think.
-- What looks bad to me often holds an opportunity for blessing if I will just keep my focus on God.
-- In all things, focus on God's will and give honor, glory and praise to Him.

Thank you, God.