DIY or DWG?

In today’s economy, many of us have resorted to becoming DIYers.  In fact, there is a channel on the television that is entitled DIY.  For those of you who don’t know what that means, it is Do It Yourself.  The show demonstrates all sorts of projects that can be tackled by anyone up for the challenge.  For some, doing it themselves, even with the program, could be an experience of spending more money to correct the mistakes they made, than if they had hired the professional!  There are a whole host of things I won’t attempt, one of them is cutting hair.  When my son was young, I thought I’d save a few dollars, I think I’m still asking for his forgiveness for the botched job I did around his ears…..can we say Mr. Spock?!

Some things are just not meant to be DIY and amazingly the biggest job out there not meant for that is “Life.”  We were created in the image of God and then given the entire world to take care of, but somewhere along the line we forgot that we weren’t supposed to do this without His help!

God blessed the entire earth with everything known to man.  That includes what man has created because God gave man the gift of imagination to be able to create.  This is not DIY, it is DWG, Do With God!  Unfortunately, for many of us, we see the results of what our hands accomplish and forget that God gave us those abilities.  We become prideful and pride then closes the door on God.  This blog is an example, it would be very easy for me to take the accolades I receive and let them go to my head and make me think I’m all that.  I’m not all that, in any sense of the imagination.  As stated yesterday in my blog about “Broken Hearts,” I asked God to show me and use me, and I’m not without my own broken heart at times.  When things fall apart, it is because something “I’ve” done hasn’t lined up with God’s desires. 

Interestingly, when things fall apart, we tend to blame God rather than looking at it as a mess we created.  So, let me get this straight in my own mind, we take credit for the good, but we blame God for the bad.  It would seem to me, that if we take credit for the one, we should also be taking credit for the other!!!  However, there is another choice.  We can give God the credit for allowing us to be in the position to be used and providing us with the tools necessary for the job at hand and then for the success of a job well done, when finished.  If we choose this route in every aspect of our lives, there shouldn’t be any screw-ups to be blaming God for!

Somewhere in this scenario the words pride and independence are co-mingling.  I consider myself to be a strong, independent woman and thus I relate to other strong, independent women.  I am passionate about things in life and don’t understand people who don’t possess passions.  I mean there is a lot out there to choose from, yet some, never make that choice, why?  And I don’t have an answer for that, I’m literally asking why!  What happened in their life that deferred them from developing a passion? 

When thinking this through a bit, I wonder if it is because things were always being done FOR them, that they then never had to try or learn to do anything for themselves!  On the other hand, there are people who feel they have to do it all, without the help of anyone and I unfortunately would have to put myself in that position.  I have a difficult time asking for help.  The reasons are either it’s because I don’t want to bother anyone with my “situation,” or I am afraid I’ll ask and no one will say yes or they’ll say yes and I’ll wind up having to do it again myself.  But to be perfectly honest, it is more reason #2.

I was the head of the department for a few months when I was teaching.  Whenever I needed help getting a sub for a class because someone was leaving early for a coaching trip, the rest of the staff seemed to crawl into some hole and disappear.  I finally learned to just do it myself and stopped asking.  Now I see friends, who value their independence and when they seem like they may need a hand, I offer and it isn’t one of those open-ended empty offers like call if you need me, because those offers are never the ones anyone takes someone up on.  My offers are ones set in concrete.  I won’t say yes, if I can’t do it. 

A lesson I learned is that my “pride” gets in the way of my asking.  I think, I have to do it all myself for reasons unknown.  That is not what God intended, ever.  That is why he just didn’t create Adam!  And that is not to say that only “Adams” need to be the helpmate to the woman.  The differences as I’ve been discussing with a friend is that unfortunately men and women don’t speak the same language all the time.  But that subject has already been covered in “Men are from Mars and Women from Venus!”

I don’t want to stray too far from my point, which is, asking and accepting help from others AND from God.  We are not alone, unless we choose to be.  I will admit to having had walls built up around me for a long time, each brick of that wall was laid one at a time, so dismantling that wall has also been lengthy.  But I found a solution for speeding that process up, and the solution was turning my life and my desires to the ones that God has for me.  Now the wall is almost leveled and it was because I let my heart be broken for what breaks His!  I’m no longer a DIYer, I've become a DWGer.

Looking up!~Barb

Broken hearts

Has your heart ever been broken?  Last night, my husband and I went to church and this song was being sung and the line that just jumped out at me was “break my heart, for what breaks yours.”  The “yours” is referencing God, and I take this to mean, that my heart needs to be “tender” to the things that God sees as being less than filled with His Grace.

What breaks your heart?  For me it is seeing pain, heartache, grief and/or injustice and sometimes I just don’t know why I feel the things that I do, but I do and I’m not quite sure what I am supposed to do about it.  Sometimes I run from the situation at hand and try to busy myself in something else, but this nagging feeling comes back over me and leads me right back from that which I ran.

It is when I heard the words from the song sung, “break my heart, for what breaks yours” that I finally got a glimmer that God was showing me the areas in my life or the lives of those who bless me, that “this” is what breaks His heart, when we or the things in our lives are out of balance….out of sync in some way.

In these moments, I then turn to Him and my question is – ok, you’ve shown me something, now what am I supposed to do?  Years ago, I said a prayer that God use me.  That I was willing to be used by Him, for His purpose.  Sometimes though what I feel I’m being asked to do is not only difficult, but also confusing, especially in light of the fact that I don’t know it all, or even most of it!  I need His guidance.  My hope is that I am being led by Him, and not working in vain for my own personal gain.

Then I get this kind of notice – Proverbs 27:5, 6

Better is open rebuke
   than hidden love.

 Wounds from a friend can be trusted,
   but an enemy multiplies kisses.

Rebuke, seems like a hard word, but if you are truly concerned about a situation, what is a warning that doesn’t sound like a reproach?  If a child runs across the street without looking, do you not admonish him…..lovingly?  It might not seem that way at first, but you are acting out of love!  Ok, what if it isn’t a child, but an adult who is disregarding an area of potential concern, how do you approach that with them?  At what point does it become "your" business?  And that is a very fine line and not one I take lightly, and I could err on the wrong side of it, but as I stated earlier, when I run from this and the niggling of my mind starts, I feel something is up.  Still I can and have been wrong, but I hope that the person is at least aware that I am trying to be that type of friend mentioned in Proverbs 27:6.  Who is being cheated, if you are less than open, and I'm not talking about being brutal, I'm talking about being concerned?

I try to honestly and as gently as possible make my concerns known.  I unfortunately may not always handle this with aplomb; in fact it might come off as more like a bomb.  I would hope that I too could count on someone to try to correct me, and the one who use to do so has now gone on to God.  I don’t want “yes” people in my life, I want people strong enough in their convictions to stand up and tell me, gently of course, when I’m out of kilter.  I may not want to hear it at first, but if I feel the person has my best interests at heart, then I will begrudgingly let their words sink into my heart.  I am not without many faults, but to the best of my ability, I will love those with whom God has blessed me. 

Looking up!~ Barb

Ah, sheet

At one point in my life I thought I’d like to write a book, and there are bits and pieces of attempted notes for the novels I have stopped and started laying, around my house.  I really enjoy writing, putting pen to paper, well fingers to keyboard now, when I actually do try to write longhand, my hand gets a cramp in it?!  I haven’t determined if that is an age thing or from lack of use!  Anyway I digress, writing is a release of pent up feelings for me.  Originally I use to put out, (not in today’s sense of that word, mind you)  so let me re-phrase that, I use to write my thoughts and share them especially around my favorite holiday, Thanksgiving.  Then just last August, I went back to school and obtained my CNA license.  The only thing to come out of that so far is this blog!  While in class, we had to write papers about the way we would handle various scenarios we might have encountered while working in a medical facility.  Our grades were Outstanding, satisfactory or unsatisfactory.  I have been out of school for the past 33 years, writing a paper I thought was going to be torture.  In fact, when in college, I dreaded doing it!  Anyway, what I seemed to remember from reading my kids papers was that the details were sometimes found lacking.  With that in mind, I made sure, my “papers” were detailed.  My poor instructor had to grade these things and mine were always a minimum of 3 pages.  I pretty much covered every scenario known to man in them!

My husband and I purchased a Sleep-Number bed about 5 years ago.  I can hear you thinking, how is she going to segue from school papers and correlate it with her bed.  Ha ha.  Watch me!  I don’t remember the model number of the bed, but it is what is called an “expanded queen”, which means it is bigger than a queen but smaller than a king, in width.  Stay with me now.  Bruce and I have two golden retrievers, both of which like to jump up and spend some part if not all of the night in our bed.  Well, I’ve now lost some of you….anyway, our bedroom is not large enough to accomdate a king-sized bed, but we felt it could handle the expanded queen.  When we purchased this, we never even thought about the sheets we’d need for this bed.  Okay, watch, because this is how it relates to the college papers.  The sheets we bought are made by the company who makes the bedding.  So, my question has been, over the last 5 years, why, don’t the manufacturers of this bed realize that the top sheet needs to be able to fit over the people who sleep in the bed and actually drape down the sides of the bed so that you rump isn’t exposed all night!!!!  The attention is in the details…..just like my college papers!

We have run the gamut with various manufacturers trying to get the sheets to fit.  Now, we have gotten a great fitting bottom sheet, but over time it has worn out.  I said it, because we weren’t buying two sets of sheets until we could get the top sheet thing worked out.  These sheets cost $209 a set, and don’t include pillowcases!!!  The thread count is nice, but they aren’t the top of the line either!  Before anyone says it, I don’t sew!  AND they won’t sell me just the bottom sheets, I have to get them in a set!  When we first bought the bed, we must have sent 4 sets of sheets back and forth through the mail, until they finally got sick of us and sent us a bottom sheet for the expanded queen and a king-size top sheet for the top.  This was the perfect answer to the problem.  But they won’t do it this time.  I wash our bedding every week, so you can see that we are clean people, I follow the manufacturer’s directions when washing and drying these sheets!  Washing in cold water?  Drying on low?  Are we really supposed to “kill” germs that way?  Again, I digress!

Picture a dining room table with a table cloth on it.  The cloth drapes down the sides of the table right?!  Now where am I going you wonder…..  On our bedding the mattress is 8” thick and we bought the sheets based on the bed’s model number, so the manufacturer already knows the size of the mattress.  (Some beds can have upto a 15” mattress- for the princess and the pea types I guess).  Anyway, we get the sheets, I wash and dry them and then put them on the bed, it drapes down about 8” and you’re thinking whats the problem.  The problem is that I’m not in bed yet and neither is my husband.  Neither of us are “big” people, and you will just have to trust me on that one.  Without going into too much detail, one of us likes to be “tucked” in and that ain’t happening!  On any given night, we both feel the cool draft of the winter air blowing up our backs and it isn’t from gas!

We are now on our fourth try in getting this problem remedied and again, we are talking one set of sheets!  The company has now refunded our money and is going to send us sheets at no charge, which is really very nice of them.  The thing is, in all of our other attempts, they said they measured the sheets.  On two occasions the measurements of the top sheet denoted on the outside of the package was a full 4 inches shorter than what the sheets measured upon opening and prior to washing!  Oh, and by the way, the sheets shrunk 4 inches upon washing as well!

Now again, this is not just this manufacturer.  My kids beds are standard size beds and none of the top sheets fit right there either, but on my daughter’s full size bed, the bottom sheet pockets are so huge that anyone who comes as a guest and sleeps in that bed (our daughter has moved out) wakes up with wrinkles all over their bodies – well at least that’s what they say, I’m not looking!

Is this a conspiracy?  Please let me in on any secrets on the remedy of this situation, I will be beyond grateful!

Looking up!~Barb

Mirror, Mirror on the Wall

A young woman stands looking in the mirror and reflecting back on all of her imperfections.  She thinks, well, at least I’m honest about myself.  My nose is too big, my mouth too generous, my stomach too flabby and my hips, my arms, my thighs, ugh….. I’m ugly, how can anyone love me?   Does this describe anyone you know?

I use to teach Physical Education grades 6-9.  Body image is of the utmost concern at this age, and seems to continue on throughout our lives.  We are constantly reminded of our imperfections especially in light of the airbrushing that takes place in the magazines we buy.  A few days ago, I wrote a blog about “shopping for THE dress” and I was lamenting about my own size and this got me thinking.

I’m the mother of two beautiful children.  But any mother would say that about her child(ren), right?  Beauty is in the eye of the beholder, it is an old cliché which means we see beauty in someone because we are looking not just with our eyes, but also with our hearts.  A child is created when an egg is fertilized by a sperm, this happens for the most part in a loving atmosphere.  I say for the most part because I am aware that this also occurs during rape, or in other abusive relationships.  I believe regardless of the atmosphere in which a child is created, it is God’s love that determines his/her beauty.  You see, beauty comes from one’s heart, not from the topicals we apply.

As a mother of these children, whom I love dearly, I would be sad to know that they who, were created in love, felt other than beautiful.  You see, beautiful and perfect are not mutually interchangeable.  Perfect has been reserved for God and since I don’t know anyone who is God, we all will have imperfections!  But earthly beauty is the celebration of those imperfections.   Who are we to tell God he created something unworthy?  Because that is exactly what we do, when we reject what we’ve been given!

Think about this a second.  Each of us is an individual, created by a loving God, who doesn’t make mistakes, he’s incapable of doing so.  I envision God reaching into His bin of perfectly made body parts and fashioning each of us in His image of perfection.  Notice I said His image of perfection, not ours!  This side of heaven we won’t know why some people are disfigured in “our” eyes, but they aren’t disfigured in God’s eyes!  For the most part, again accounting for the depravities of society, parents of “imperfect” children, love that child regardless of his/her differences.  Yes, differences not flaws!

Magazines, television and movies “control” our self-images and we have voluntarily given them the control whenever we compare ourselves.  We don’t need cosmetic surgery as much as we need heart surgery.  If our hearts were expanded to be able to see the way God sees us, we’d soon realize that we are more beautiful than what is staring back at us through those fun house mirrors we are gazing into.  And, before you think this is only about women, let me tell you it isn’t.  The guys are equally conscious of their less than perfect bodies! 

What’s your favorite part of yourself?  When looking at others, what most attracts you to someone else?  Why?  For me, it is the person’s eyes.  The eyes to me are a reflection of a person’s heart and they tell me the story of who they are without words.  While everyone around me is worried about wrinkles and fat, I don’t see it, because I’m looking beneath that outer veneer and seeing their true beauty in their hearts.  No, I am not that “good,” and it was through Godly intervention that I came to this conclusion!  Now I just want others to consider it as well!

Now some of you are getting wigged out about this.  I have friends who are so conscious of the condition of their homes that they won’t invite someone over if the house isn’t perfect, and consequently, they never have anyone over.  I have friends who hide their gaze from me.  Have you ever talked with someone whose eyes never meet yours, in fact trying to track them is like running a marathon, their eyes shift back and forth so much you are exhausted by the end of the conversation and you feel you never connected.  These people aren’t inviting me (or anyone else) into their hearts and I can only imagine it is because there is clutter or confusion there.

Eye contact is a form of intimacy, and intimacy’s “old” definition use to mean having to do with sex.  But it is so much more than just that, it is a connection with someone’s heart AND soul and most of us can’t handle that level of connection because our “houses” aren’t perfect.  These bodies we’ve been given are temporary shelters housing that sacred inner being that longs for something beyond this world.  Some of us aren’t sure “what” that is, so we embark on a never-ending search for that which will complete us.  Our brains tell us try this, when what we need to do is listen to our hearts.  See, our hearts can’t lie to us, but our minds can and will play tricks on us.

Take another look in that mirror, but this time, look with your heart!  See what God’s sees.

Looking up!~Barb

The Rockers

Each month, I change my blog’s main picture, this month it was the rockers, February was a sunset and January was a snow scene.  Each of those photos was taken by me and spoke to me about the essence of life.  I love photography and want to continue to learn more about it, I want to keep seeing the beauty in life in the everyday things of life.  The thing is, when I change my blog banner each month, those pictures change all the way back to the beginning.   So, since these chairs spoke to some of you, I’m posting them here.  Ok, I will have to get back to you on that one, they don't seem to want to post???

My friend, Linda, was one who commented to me about these rockers.  She said that the rockers caused her to “feel” something she couldn’t describe.  Whether or not she knew it, or meant it to be, she paid me a huge compliment, because that is exactly what I was trying to capture when I took the picture.  She said she wasn’t sure of the why of her feelings, just that they evoked a feeling of peaceful and quiet times in both her heart and mind.

I feel that these rockers offer both a promise and a memory.  There is the promise of a time when we’d be able to sit down and relax long enough to be able to enjoy the moments at hand.  There is hope here.  The invitation of the setting is one where there is a natural intimacy of belonging, of a give and take exchange going on with each movement to and fro.  Words may or may not be spoken, and yet there is still a feeling of connectedness.   It is simple, nothing is required but for two people to show up (coffee or wine optional).  The rockers sit just beyond a pond my husband and I built.  When rocking you hear the gentle sound of our waterfall trickling down the rocks, soothing your senses or, you might hear the burp of the bullfrog that has somehow positioned itself underneath the netting that keeps the leaves out of the pond.  What I hope you feel is God’s peace.

The memory portion of the picture serves as a reminder of days past, of times when we took the time to spontaneously drop by and chat.  When I travel down memory lane, I yearn for those type of moments and miss the casualness between friends and neighbors.  Time was less structured then, you didn’t worry so much about the condition of your house, but then again, you weren’t working so hard to keep accumulating more things that both need to be dusted and paid for!  You “were” and that was enough.

As I age, and today is as good as any day to do it, ha, it’s my birthday, the presents I most enjoy are the presence of the people I care for.  Don’t get me wrong, I appreciate the gifts given, but would like to say for future birthdays, lets give the gift of time.  Come sit in my rockers, enjoy the tranquility of nature, think about creating your own intimate lounging space, but most importantly, invite someone to share that space and use it often!

Looking up!~Barb

Shopping for THE dress

I’m just wondering if anyone can relate!  On Sunday, I finally succumbed to going out to look for a dress to wear for my son’s wedding.  I had had such plans about taking a posse of people and in retrospect; I think I’m glad I didn’t.  But had I, we all would have been kicked out of the darn store for causing a ruckus!  As it was, Brooke, my daughter met me at the store for this endeavor, I should have remembered…..

Years ago, when Brooke was a younger child, her Aunt and I went to Kohl’s to shop.  I usually buy bras there, and I have no idea what her Aunt was trying on.  Brooke and her Aunt were very close and Brooke wanted to be in said Aunt’s dressing room and it was ok with her!  I was probably about 39, Nanc was about 45 and Brooke was 8.  Kids will always give you their honest opinion and Brooke did just that.  As I remember the conversation, Nancy asked Brooke how this particular outfit look on her and Brooke in her non-quiet voice pipes up, pull in your stomach, and Nancy remarks, I did……and Brooke quips back, no the other one!  I know Nancy is turning over in her grave with my telling of this, but I will say this, Nancy and I wore the same size and we were both always commiserating on how we needed to be doing sit-ups!  But size 14s are all over the place in regard to how they fit!  Anyway, the dressing rooms at that time were all full and you could hear the muffled snickers and then Nancy yelling for me to get Brooke out of there!

Fast forward 15 years and now I am having Brooke in my dressing room!  I should have remembered, I should have remembered, I should have remembered!  I had called the bridal shop the day before asking if they had this particular dress that I had seen in their catalog in stock.  They couldn’t find it, and I wasn’t about to order this dress sight unseen!  I made arrangements and called Brooke and we decided to meet at the store at noon on Sunday.  Now originally, I planned on going with Brooke and a couple of friends and having mimosas or some other drink to soothe my ruffled feathers prior to this escapade.  I should mention that I’m more comfortable in gym shorts, and a polo or a track suit! 

I find the dress and since I’ve lost weight (20 lbs but I’ve gained 10 of it back??!!), I pulled a size 12 and a size 14 into the dressing room with us.  Being a pessimist at times, I decided I would try on the 14 from the onset.  Now I won’t get too descriptive here, but suffice it to say that stepping into this number did not meet with my hips approval!  So, off it comes.  When in doubt, pull it over your minimized area, right?  Yeah, no!  At this point Brooke is pulling this thing down, until we realized we hadn’t unzipped it all the way, and I’m having a hot flash!  We get it in place and I’m like, if I sit down in this thing, I’m going to split the seams open.  At this point I’m also saying that the lining of this dress feels strange.  Brooke now is on her knees, reaching up the dress trying to pull the lining down suggesting I wear spanx, meanwhile 3 staff members are standing outside the dressing room doors trying not to snort their laughter!   Oh and I should mention that at this point they say, oh, our stuff runs a bit small!!!  No kidding!!! I am now thinking of Janet, Julie and Linda, the friends I had mentioned going shopping with and I am immensely relieved they are not with me!  The lining finally drapes the way it is supposed to, and it actually feels better.  Then I put on the little cap sleeved jacket.  All those years of playing sports and my recent endeavor of swimming has made me “broad” across the back.  I am now at the point of saying to Brooke, put your arms up like we are going to dance, because I’m about to pull these seams out as well.  Good grief, if Brent dips me in our dance, and he better not, I’ll be in my underwear on the dance floor!

Many of you are thinking, why doesn’t she just get a different style of dress and try it on.  Did I forget to mention that I absolutely hate to shop?  I didn’t get that gene.  It is so unnerving and discouraging to go into shops (and if you know of one that doesn’t please tell me) that think all women should be a size 2!  Not to mention that it seems like all the mother of the groom/bride dresses I saw looked matronly!  Geez, I’m 55, not 105!

Of course, there aren’t any mirrors in the dressing room, so now you have to go parading around on the outside.  And again, of course, there aren’t any chairs for me to try to sit in, so I have to go out to the staging area, where they oooh and ahh over the brides in their gowns, while they fit them.  And again, of course, there are 3 guys sitting there, and I’m thinking, oh gosh, did they just hear the diatribe Brooke and I went through?!  At this point the sales clerk is pointing to a chair and I’m like, no, I want to take that away from where anyone is, and try to slither into that seat.  Then I need Brooke to help me stand back up, so that I don’t make any wrong moves and rip the dress!

Somehow, I’m able to get this dress off and the sales person gets me another dress, similar in style…..NOT?!  ok, it has a similar jacket, but that is where the similarities end!  This one is in a larger size, but the cut is completely different, so I don’t know how I’m supposed to compare the two.  Is it any wonder I don’t like to shop?!  Not to mention that the lighting in the store is glaring and my skin is still the pallor of winter white even though the day before I had tried to sit out in the sun in my bathing suit in March……thinking my neighbors weren’t home, and then cleaning up the leaves in the garden and they were home and oh my gosh…..well you get the picture.  So, maybe I was a tad bit pink, but not bronze by any stretch of the imagination!

As I just said to a photographer friend, this is when these wedding photographers need to be available….this is the stuff of America’s funniest home videos!!  The trip was a success, I will say.  I did order the first dress in the larger size and vowed to start my diet that evening.  So far that’s a bust, no pun intended!   I have until May 1^st to whittle down and I’m looking at various skin creams that might help in the slithering sense!   I promise, at some point I will post a picture of the dress……I might even be wearing it!

Looking up!~ Barb

Extravagant Love

Extravagant love, ever felt it?  Ever given it?  Most parents would say that at the moment of their child’s birth, they felt it and gave it. If it were able to be described it would encompass an overwhelming feeling of wanting to provide the ultimate in love and care to meet the recipients’’ greatest possible needs.  But, what if you are one of many, who aren’t parents?  Does that mean you can’t have experienced extravagant love?  No!  And the same holds true for those who haven’t married!  

Extravagant love is not reserved for a select few; it is and should be available for everyone, without stipulation!  It is ours to choose, yes, you read that right, it is ours to choose!  First and foremost, God showed us His extravagant love by sending His Son to us to die on the cross for our sins.  Someone dying for you is pretty extravagant!  Some of us, (I’m not including myself in this) have chosen careers whereby we put ourselves in positions where our lives are also put on the line.  These include and are not limited to soldiers, police, firefighters, EMTs, missionaries going to 3^rd world countries hostile to Christianity, disaster relief rescuers and if I thought hard enough and long enough it could encompass others.  Should I have left “your” field of endeavor out of the loop, please accept my apologies.  Extravagant means beyond the ordinary, at least to me, and those willing to die for my safety/benefit, are, to me, people of extravagance!

Are you aware though,  that the average “Joe” can also be a giver of extravagant love?  I have a friend who thinks I’m “over the top” with my willingness to give or do and I am not suggesting that I’m all that, instead I am suggesting that because my heart is full, I feel extremely motivated to share.  One could make the argument that then I should share with someone who is “financially needy”, and I would argue back, that while that too is important, the ability to recognize basic needs in someone else is also important.  Fulfilling needs are not always about the monetary value!  A kind word at the right time, an anonymous deed to an unsuspecting person whether known or unknown, they might be the difference in someone’s day and then in how they in turn react to someone else!

There are people all around you that “do” for others and ask nothing in return for themselves.  They too, in my opinion, should benefit from someone recognizing that who they are is important and not important from a status perspective but from a loving one!  One of my all time favorite poems is entitled “Influence” by Joseph Norris.  It goes:

Drop a pebble in the water,
And its ripples reach out far;
And the sunbeams dancing on them
May reflect them to a star.

Give a smile to someone passing,
Thereby making his morning glad;
It may greet you in the evening
When your own heart may be sad.

Do a deed of simple kindness;
Though its end you may not see,
It may reach, like widening ripples,
Down a long eternity. 

I have had the benefit of having some pretty influential people in my life.  Most, I haven’t been able to thank, because at that time I was a self-involved teenager, who later became just self-involved.  Aging does have some positive moments!!  Thank God!!!

The truth of the matter is that we don’t always recognize where or when our persona might have or might be making an impact on someone else.  Knowing this, what kind of impact would you wish to make on someone?  Positive, negative?   Does anyone really want to make a negative impact?!!  One of my dear friends, Linda, sent me an email yesterday as a means of encouragement.  It spoke to this exact topic.

All I can say is that I’ve learned through the years that what I “possess” are gifts given to me.  They are not mine to hold onto, but instead mine to share with others.  Whether or not you are talking about material or spiritual gifts, the mindset holds true.  What you cling to gets crumpled in your fist, but what you gently hold, for whatever time period you hold it, is free to go and free to come back to you with the possibility of more blessings being attached to it.

I’ve had the conversation about legacies with my friend, Nancy.  Wouldn’t we all like to know just what it was that made us special to others?  Why do we wait until people’s eulogies to talk about their meaning to us?  In fact, had Nancy and I not had that conversation, I wonder if she would have heard what I did say at her eulogy!!!  I certainly hope so!

I’d like to get to a place and then get with the people I love and just be able to talk, freely and openly without the embarrassment of feelings creeping in.   It seems that people, myself included this time, are embarrassed by any accolades given to them, well unless they are total narcissists.  In my daydreams, I would say that this conversation would take place at the beach, in the off season, but still be warm enough to be barefooted and wading in the surf.  Whether we walked with coffee or wine in our hands wouldn’t matter.  I envision the water glistening with the diamond effect of the sun dancing on the endless sea.  The conversation, like the ocean would ebb and flow and when it paused, there would be a continued warmth of feeling of still being heard in the silence of contentment.  Maybe this is the stuff of heaven!  I certainly hope so!

Looking up!~ Barb