The Ultimate Monday

New Year's is the ultimate Monday.  I am a Monday starter.  In my world, everything starts on Monday.  Diets, laundry, organizing goals, to-do lists.  Unfortunately, if I mess up on Tuesday...well, there is always another Monday just six short days away.  Why can't I just get back on track on Wednesday?  The answer is obvious, isn't it?  Wednesday is not Monday.  Don't worry, I am well aware of the flaws in this philosophy, but I just can't seem to change it.

So to me, New Years presents itself as the ultimate Monday.  New calendars, resolutions, goal setting and the never ending dream of fitting into all the smaller clothes in my closet.  It is intimidating and scary to this Monday starter.  What if I screw it all up in February?  January is a long way off for starting over. 

I think instead of making resolutions or long to-do lists this year, I will just try very hard to commit to making the next best decision.  To starting over right at the point of failure.  To look at my short comings and disappointments as an opportunity to know what not to do the next time. 

I am going to attempt to not start on Monday.  I will let you know how I am doing.  I must, however, make the confession that today is Wednesday and I started this blog entry on Monday and didn't like the way it was sounding.  Score one for me.  I didn't wait a week to finish it. 

Good luck on all your resolutions and goals for 2013.  Since I am not making any, I should be guaranteed some sort of success. 

Someone to Lean On

Several times a week, I drive by a little farm.  This sweet little farm is home to sheep and goats.  It has a creek running through it with a little waterfall in the middle.  On the top of a slight hill sits a red barn that is shelter to the handful of animals that call this farm their own. 

When my kids were younger and we would drive by, they would always try to pick out the same goats they had previously seen.  They even named one Rocky because he was always standing on top of this big rock in the field.  They would laugh to see the goats sitting in their feed troughs and would wonder about the process of sheering the sheep. 

One sunny but chilly morning, I was driving by the farm and the freshly shorn sheep were out enjoying the day. Two sheep were leaning against the side of the red barn.  What I noticed about these sheep was the way they were standing.  The bigger one was leaning up against the siding and the smaller one was resting his head on the hip of his friend.  They both appeared to be asleep.  They were completely still soaking up the heat of the sun. 

It struck me that there was a trust there.  The second sheep needed to trust that his friend wasn't going to go running off allowing him to fall.  There was a sweet intimacy in the picture created by these creatures. 

It got me thinking about the people in my life.  The people I lean on and the people I allow to lean on me.  Do my relationships reflect a sweet intimacy of trust?  Do I allow space for comfort and support to the people in my life?  Do I allow others to hold me up when I need them? 

If I am honest about these questions, I find I fall short in a couple of areas.  I am not always a consistent support to those around me.  I am prone to isolation and good intentions.  I want to act on those subtle nudges I feel to really be there for people.  Whether it is to send a note, make a meal or plan a coffee date.  I also need to allow the people in my life to support me when I need it.  This is a hard one for most people. Asking for help, accepting their responses to the nudges they feel in regard to me. 

I want to love well.  I want to be the example of support and encouragement to those I am in relationship with.  I know with some practiced intention, I can be both the supporter and the supported and I can do it with confidence, grace and love. 

Our Story is His Story

I saw a t-shirt today that said "write your own story".  At first glance, I thought to myself that it was a pretty cool t-shirt.  But the more I thought about it, the more I didn't like it. 

I am a strong believer in the power of story.  We all have them.  We all have the classic story elements in our lives.  Every person we meet, every place we visit and every decision we make becomes a part of our story. 

Sometimes, whether through a fault of our own or the fault of someone else, we have elements of our story that we would like to edit out.  Parts of our story that are hard to deal with.  Parts that break our hearts and bring us to our knees. 

But it is during those times that I am thankful that each and every chapter in our lives is part of a much greater piece of work, with a much greater purpose than we could ever imagine. 

Today, I am grateful beyond words for the God who knows the ending of my story.  Who has it covered.  Who can redeem it and mold it and rewrite the parts that need to be revised.  Not for any other reason than that He loves me. 

Horses, Paint and Comort Zones

Comfort zones.  We all have them.  We all love to be in them.  For most of us, it is difficult to move out of our comfortable places.  Often times, we don't even realize how long we have been comfortable until someone or something challenges us to make a change. 

This summer, I spent some time doing two things that pushed me out of my comfort zone.  The first activity involves horses and the second involves painting. 

My dear friend Jeannie has started a horse ministry called Freedom Path.  She gracioiusly invited me to attend.  I agreed mostly out of my deep affection for Jeannie.  Not because I love horses.  Until the first meeting, I had very little exposure to these amazing (and big) animals.  I literally cried with fear at the thought of getting on a horse.  I had no clue what I was doing.  With help from Jeannie, I was able to ride around in the ring without falling off.  The next week, I was a little more confident, until I saw the horse was getting on.  Thunder was 17 hands tall!  In horse speak, that means huge!  I was nervous to say the least.  However, by the grace of God and help from my friend, I rode around the ring and didn't fall off.  By the third week, we were settled at a barn and I was given the honor of riding Jeannie's horse, Candy.  Now, at the end of the summer I love horses.  I am able to do all the tack for Candy by myself.  I am only unsure when it comes to tightening the saddle and getting the bit in her mouth.  I not only learned a ton about horses, I also learned a lot about myself.  I like things to be well thought out and planned.  I am not a risk taker.  Although I did do pretty good running up hills with Candy.  The story of my growing love for horses is way too long to share here, but I will say this ministry opportunity has been one of the best things I have done in my life thus far.

The second out of my comfort zone activity I did involved painting.  My mom and I took a class at  Paint By the Glass in West Chester.  You pick a painting and everyone in the class works on the same one with direction from the instructor.  Part of my personality is that I don't like to do things that I am not fairly certain I will be good at.  I already know I am not artistic.  My brother got all those gifts.  I sat in front of the blank canvas and felt very nervous.  It took me several minutes after the initial instruction to put my paintbrush on the canvas.  I did not want to mess up.  At the end of class, I stepped back and tried very hard not to compare my painting to every other painting in the room.  I decided that I liked what I produced and am proud to have it hang in my house. 

Now, I didn't fall in love with painting the way I fell in love with horses.  However, I did enjoy trying two new things that were definitely out of my comfort zone.  You know what?  It felt good.  It felt good to challenge myself.  To not be good at something and develop a skill that is very hard for me...humbly asking for help.   

So try something new.  Do something that stretches you and maybe even scares you a little bit.  Find some supportive friends to help you through it and give stepping out of your comfort zone a try. 

Taking Flight

I have an old beat up watering can sitting on my back deck.  Most years, I plant a small flowering plant in it.  This year, however, a wren decided it looked like a safe and cozy place to build her nest.  We discovered her nest on Easter Sunday.  Everyone in our family was really excited to watch what would happen with our little friend.  We quickly discovered that our 3-year old lab noticed the newcomer also, so we blocked the nest off with one of our patio chairs.  Every few days, we would sneak up on the nest and check on our wren and her progress.  I will admit to screaming my head off at least twice when I didn't see momma bird in there and she flew right out at my face.  Yikes!  One day, we happened upon an empty nest and counted 5 eggs!  Waiting and watching, we eventually spied baby birds!  Not wanting to disturb the nest, we ignored it for about a week. 

This past Sunday morning, we got to witness one of the most amazing things I have ever seen in nature.  All the baby wrens were leaving the nest and learning to fly for the first time.  We quickly and quietly gathered around our back windows to watch the scene unfold.  Momma wren was flitting all over the back yard, encouraging her babies to take flight.  One hopped up on the railing and immediately took off, making the long flight to the trees in the woods behind our house. A second baby followed suit but only made it to our playset.  It sat there resting a bit before it took off for the trees.  A third bird divebombed right into the grass, walking around in a daze before trying again.  Then, we noticed one baby sitting on the leg of the over turned chair.  Nervous and waitng.  Finally, he made it up onto the railing.  Anxiously, we all held our breath waiting for him to gather up his courage to take off for the trees.  His little brother and sister birds were successfully flitting all over the back yard, trying out their new wings with courage.  After what seemed like an agonizing amount of time, our little late bloomer finally took off.  He made it all the way to the trees without falling from the sky.  We cheered and clapped, so proud of him. 

I cannot help but identify with this Momma wren.  We have four sons and we have been since the minute they were born, teaching them to take flight.  Their first steps, riding a two-wheeler, getting on the bus, taking the big test, dealing with peers and most recently our journey into the teenage years. Sometimes, they jump right off the railing and have miraculous success.  Other times, they crash and burn.  Then there are those times where we hold our breath waiting for them to gather the courage to fly.  We are anxiously hoping they make it to the trees safely.  We help them up when they fall and we cheer them on when they make it.  We encourage, we instruct, we watch, we wait, we pray.  The goal is flight.  The goal is four young men who will have integrity and honor and faith.  We give them a safe, cozy place to try out their new wings before they go off into the world.  It is both a privilege and a challenge, every single day. 

Incidently, birds don't return to their nests after the babies leave.  It is this Momma bird's prayer that her babies don't take after our wrens.

Running Red Lights

Last night, I was out late at the movies with a couple of girlfriends.  While on my way home, I got stopped at a red light.  I was the only car in sight.  Absolutely no one was around, it would have been safe to go through the red light. Except, I was making a left hand turn and going through the red would have been illegal.  I thought about it for a few seconds, trying to consider if I should just go.  I was so tired and the closer I got to home, the more I felt my eyes drooping. 

As I was contemplating my next move, I had a thought.  If no one sees me run this light, does that make breaking the rule ok?  I had no risk of getting caught and no risk of hurting anyone, so what was my hesitation?  I thought about life in those few seconds at a red light at 2:30 in the morning.  When any of us are faced with a decision, we weigh the risks.  Will we get caught?  If no one sees, is it ok?  This is a trap meant to set us off course.  How many diets are sabatoged by brownies eaten in secret?  How many marriages are destroyed by affairs begun in secret? 

Deep thinking going on in the wee hours of the morning.  Thoughts I need to be reminded of in the daylight hours as well.  Because even if no one sees my sin, it is nonetheless, still there. 

Oh, and in case you are curious.  I waited for the light to change before heading home.

The Missing Peace

  A couple years ago, my husband and sister-in-law and I were working on a puzzle.  I think it had like 1000 pieces and it was of cows drinking from a fountain in some quaint European village.  Think shades of blue and brown.  Looking back, it was really a great activity for the three of us.  My sister-in-law was living with us at the time and the puzzle became our nuetral ground.  It became the place where we could talk without pressure.  We became obsessed with finishing this puzzle and it even turned quite competitive when one of us discovered that someone had filled in an area we had already claimed as ours. We followed all the puzzle rules.  Separating out the edge pieces and sorting pieces by color.  The problem with this puzzle was the vast amounts of the same colors.  We would think we had all the right pieces for the fountain section, only to discover that there was a tree in the corner with the same shade of green.  We would find ourselves searching for one missing piece with a focused intensity that surprised all of us.  We would stay up late and neglect our responsibilities in our attempt to locate the missing piece.

Earlier this week, I realized that I am missing peace.  In my life, I am missing peace.  I find myself to be feeling a bit blue, a bit out of sorts and easily unsatisfied.  I find myself wandering around seeing all that needs to be accomplished, but finding no motivation to begin a task.  Overwhelmed at the vast amounts of the same color in my own puzzle.  Daily tasks that never change, laundry that is never finished, shoes perpetually not on the shoe shelf.  Instead of looking at the big picture that is my wonderfully blessed life, I am focusing on the little pieces that make up that life.  And sometimes, those pieces are hard to find and don't always fit into the right place.  Those little pieces aren't my whole life, but part of the big puzzle that makes up who I am and what I am all about.  It takes some effort to step back and see the whole picture. 

I have been so focused on making all the pieces fit in exactly the right spot that I have missed what I am hoping to build at the end.  What I am hoping to build is a life well lived.  Children well loved.  A marriage well preserved into old age.  A life full of love, laughter, friendship and a deep abiding faith.  A life of peace.

When we finished that cow puzzle, we stepped back and looked at what we had accomplished.  It was quite pretty, even if the subject matter was cows.  We didn't see all the tiny pieces interlocked.  We saw the whole picture.  The little pieces were all needed to make the picture complete.  Missing even one would have ruined the whole thing.  So all the little pieces that I find myself focusing on and stressing over are a necessary part of my whole.  They all fit together to make me who I am.  But instead of spending all my energy on making them fit, I need to be taking a step back to see where I am in the process of building my puzzle.  Building my life.  Maybe when I learn to do that, I will find that missing peace.