Tuesday, March 30, 2010
Miss Lilly White Legs
I think that I'll write a book and title it "The Adventures of Miss Lilly White Legs". It would be an autobiography.
Spring Tradition
I've heard from lots of ladies over time about the honored tradition of the first spring shave. You know how it is living in Colorado. The winter is cold enough that legs rarely see light. What is the point of shaving and if you do, you never shave all the way up. But, then comes those warmer days. It's time for shorts and, swallow, swimming suits. And, the time has also come to shave those legs properly. I, myself, prefer Nair, but sometimes the day comes a little unexpectedly and there's not a precious pink bottle to be found. So, that little inch and a half razor trembles in the face of the task ahead.
Now, I have heard men complaining about shaving their faces. But really, there is no comparison. Just consider the difference in square inches. To shave legs front and back, top to bottom, you practically have to be a contortionist. And, it's not like you can see the back of your thigh. There's probably a run on shaving cream this time of year.
As I was doing this today, I know, not the picture you needed in your mind, I was trying to be thorough and thinking how proud I was since I was getting ready to wear the first shorts of the season. It was taking forever. Nicked right behind my knee. Ouch. Darn. MMM...an. That. Hurt. But, I was finally just about finished when I thought, "oh crud, I'm going to have to do it all again now." Cuz once the season begins, it's like weed pulling, you gotta keep up with it. Sigh.
Well, I've got to go run to the store and get some Nair before they run out. Happy Spring!!
blessings,
rhonda
Now, I have heard men complaining about shaving their faces. But really, there is no comparison. Just consider the difference in square inches. To shave legs front and back, top to bottom, you practically have to be a contortionist. And, it's not like you can see the back of your thigh. There's probably a run on shaving cream this time of year.
As I was doing this today, I know, not the picture you needed in your mind, I was trying to be thorough and thinking how proud I was since I was getting ready to wear the first shorts of the season. It was taking forever. Nicked right behind my knee. Ouch. Darn. MMM...an. That. Hurt. But, I was finally just about finished when I thought, "oh crud, I'm going to have to do it all again now." Cuz once the season begins, it's like weed pulling, you gotta keep up with it. Sigh.
Well, I've got to go run to the store and get some Nair before they run out. Happy Spring!!
blessings,
rhonda
In the Garden
Spring is upon us here in Colorado. Well, probably a few more snow storms brewing before the rains and lasting warmth of Spring comes. The warm days are currently sneaking in for a day or two before wandering off for a respite. But, I guess that is what they mean by Spring Training.
This year my garden hardly got put to bed. The snows came and they came hard and they stayed. Very un-Colorado-like.
A couple of weeks ago I saw my garden for the first time in months. All of the spindly, dead branches. Loads of leaves. And even......gasp.......things that had stayed green sheltered under the snow.
So, it was time to clear the rubble and get to work. I cleared the rubble, but only got back to work yesterday. It feels good to turn soil. To add what is necessary to make things grow. To put in seeds or transplant bulbs. It is a great feeling.
I hear all kinds of analogies about gardening and our lives. But there's something missing. It's always about the beautiful flowers, the warm soil, the amazement of watching it grow, the turning the soil......but there's something more to gardening. If you want to garden, you are going to get dirty. Sometimes there are toads or salamanders lazing about. A few times, I've frightened a snake; they returned the favor each time. There are beetles and worms galore. Roly polies. Centipedes. Spiders of all shapes and sizes. Of course, there are some pretty lady bugs too. And praying mantisses. Then there's the soil. It is messy. Gets under the nails. Up the arms. In the shoes. On the ankles, knees and butt. And then, to that soil you have to add things........rotted veggies......manure of all sorts.....coke......epsom salts.....bone meal........blood meal......sugar....beer...sand. It's dirty work. Literally. There's the sweat of digging holes, hoeing rows and pulling weeds. And the thorns and stickers and splinters come from everything. Most thorns have some kind of oil that makes their prick sting even more. This morning my hands are pocked with marks from the thorns. Everyone has weeds, though those who tend the garden well in the beginning do get a better start. Gardening DOES represent life, but not only in the miracle of growth and beauty.
Sometimes in life when getting rid of the overgrowth, there's a snake. Sometimes, there are worms and things that seem yucky, but they really do help. Life has lots of beauty, but at it's base, it's a lot of effort. It requires courage. It demands the ability to get dirty. It begs for us to persevere until we get to the beautiful parts.
Many parents seem to go into parenting thinking that if they are nice and treat their kids well then everything will be pretty. Ha. Imagine the shock the first time they find a salamander. Or an unexpected beetle. Or a black widow. Kids are full of life. Full of doing good and trying lots of other things too. Just like in the garden, maybe the key is knowing that it's just part of the experience. Over reacting never achieves anything. Except drama and trauma.
I do love gardening. As one of the kids said as we walked in the house yesterday, "it just makes you feel like you've accomplished a lot."
Ah. Wise. The good feeling of staying with a task. So it is in life and its unexpected surprises.
blessings,
rhonda
This year my garden hardly got put to bed. The snows came and they came hard and they stayed. Very un-Colorado-like.
A couple of weeks ago I saw my garden for the first time in months. All of the spindly, dead branches. Loads of leaves. And even......gasp.......things that had stayed green sheltered under the snow.
So, it was time to clear the rubble and get to work. I cleared the rubble, but only got back to work yesterday. It feels good to turn soil. To add what is necessary to make things grow. To put in seeds or transplant bulbs. It is a great feeling.
I hear all kinds of analogies about gardening and our lives. But there's something missing. It's always about the beautiful flowers, the warm soil, the amazement of watching it grow, the turning the soil......but there's something more to gardening. If you want to garden, you are going to get dirty. Sometimes there are toads or salamanders lazing about. A few times, I've frightened a snake; they returned the favor each time. There are beetles and worms galore. Roly polies. Centipedes. Spiders of all shapes and sizes. Of course, there are some pretty lady bugs too. And praying mantisses. Then there's the soil. It is messy. Gets under the nails. Up the arms. In the shoes. On the ankles, knees and butt. And then, to that soil you have to add things........rotted veggies......manure of all sorts.....coke......epsom salts.....bone meal........blood meal......sugar....beer...sand. It's dirty work. Literally. There's the sweat of digging holes, hoeing rows and pulling weeds. And the thorns and stickers and splinters come from everything. Most thorns have some kind of oil that makes their prick sting even more. This morning my hands are pocked with marks from the thorns. Everyone has weeds, though those who tend the garden well in the beginning do get a better start. Gardening DOES represent life, but not only in the miracle of growth and beauty.
Sometimes in life when getting rid of the overgrowth, there's a snake. Sometimes, there are worms and things that seem yucky, but they really do help. Life has lots of beauty, but at it's base, it's a lot of effort. It requires courage. It demands the ability to get dirty. It begs for us to persevere until we get to the beautiful parts.
Many parents seem to go into parenting thinking that if they are nice and treat their kids well then everything will be pretty. Ha. Imagine the shock the first time they find a salamander. Or an unexpected beetle. Or a black widow. Kids are full of life. Full of doing good and trying lots of other things too. Just like in the garden, maybe the key is knowing that it's just part of the experience. Over reacting never achieves anything. Except drama and trauma.
I do love gardening. As one of the kids said as we walked in the house yesterday, "it just makes you feel like you've accomplished a lot."
Ah. Wise. The good feeling of staying with a task. So it is in life and its unexpected surprises.
blessings,
rhonda
Saturday, March 27, 2010
Spring Break
No matter how old I get, Spring Break will always add a little spring to my step. I loved it as a kid, as a college student, as a teacher and now, as a parent. It's that much needed holiday after the snow and cold. It gives you a chance to recharge your batteries.
Spring Break needs to be more than just a week off of school. It needs to be a mindset. Sometimes we just need a break. A vacation. A time off or away.
The snows come. The rains. the clouds. The fog. The freezing temperatures. Life. Stuff happens. And sometimes it just seems to go on and on. And we need a break. Time to sleep in. To lounge around. To be still. To read. To regroup. We need someplace warm. Even if it's just under our covers. Time out of the freezing cold. Time out of the wind. Time. Period.
I love Spring Break and all it heralds. Easter. Thawing. Planting. A change. I love that my kids are home. And I tremble at the thought that very soon, I will be in sandals and not boots.
Life is like that. Just a little bit of time gives us hope for what good is coming. Even if it's a ways off. Give yourself time to hope. Give yourself a break.
blessings,
rhonda
Spring Break needs to be more than just a week off of school. It needs to be a mindset. Sometimes we just need a break. A vacation. A time off or away.
The snows come. The rains. the clouds. The fog. The freezing temperatures. Life. Stuff happens. And sometimes it just seems to go on and on. And we need a break. Time to sleep in. To lounge around. To be still. To read. To regroup. We need someplace warm. Even if it's just under our covers. Time out of the freezing cold. Time out of the wind. Time. Period.
I love Spring Break and all it heralds. Easter. Thawing. Planting. A change. I love that my kids are home. And I tremble at the thought that very soon, I will be in sandals and not boots.
Life is like that. Just a little bit of time gives us hope for what good is coming. Even if it's a ways off. Give yourself time to hope. Give yourself a break.
blessings,
rhonda
Friday, March 26, 2010
People Who Make Me Angry
I know, I know, you are hoping for me to give names, addresses and phone numbers. No such luck. That would not be nice. I'm talking about the KIND of people. There are a sort of people that always make me cringe and feel yucky. The kind of people that make you wish you were somewhere else.
First of all, people who hurt my friends are low on my list. Or talk about my friends to me like I don't already know their foibles. I've had people talk about people's weight, eating habits, clothing choices, life choices etc. EXCUSE ME? I already know them. They are already my friend. I already know if they carry a few pounds, eat chocolate in the pantry, dress like a hooker. But obviously, I decided to be friends, so you should keep your thoughts to yourself.
Or the kind of person who tries to get me to pass a message to my friend. Like junior high, right? Wrong. Some people just never outgrow it. You could get her to.......whatever. Translate that to "I want her to change something and I don't have the guts to tell her." Bleck. Go try to convince someone else.
I am put off by people who can't ever take responsibility for their actions. They keep moving so fast and putting out more and more information to take the focus off of the fact that they messed up. The thing is.........we ALL mess up. What good is hiding it doing?
My least favorite people are those who do harm to children. Physically, emotionally or otherwise. I mean, how dare they? Kids. Kids aren't supposed to have to fix adult garbage. They aren't there as battering rams or pawns. They are people. Tender, ultra able to forgive, people. I like kids. Can't stand it when kids shoulder the blame of parent's mistakes and decisions.
But the thing is that for every one person like any of these in my life, there are a dozen fine, wonderful, caring people. While my faith isn't in humanity and their ability to be infallible, I am constantly amazed by the amount of kindness there is in the world. Overall, there are more people who are desiring to do the right thing than who are just out to be jerks.
But sometimes you run across those who are just plain mean. I used to think that it was the right thing to stick it out. To even suffer their abuse. To listen to their meanness. I don't anymore. I don't know exactly why. Perhaps it is the realization that life is way too precious to be wasted with the anger and trouble of someone who just wants to make trouble in the world. Some people just aren't happy unless they are creating drama. So, I just let those relationships go.
But, like I said, most relationships, most people are worth getting to know. Take the time. Oh, sure, there are a few that will leave a bad taste, but just like you don't throw away the whole bag of potatoes because one went bad, you shouldn't throw away all relationships because some people choose to live a life of meanness or lies. Because really, all of the good relationships make one bad one now and then worth it.
blessings,
rhonda
First of all, people who hurt my friends are low on my list. Or talk about my friends to me like I don't already know their foibles. I've had people talk about people's weight, eating habits, clothing choices, life choices etc. EXCUSE ME? I already know them. They are already my friend. I already know if they carry a few pounds, eat chocolate in the pantry, dress like a hooker. But obviously, I decided to be friends, so you should keep your thoughts to yourself.
Or the kind of person who tries to get me to pass a message to my friend. Like junior high, right? Wrong. Some people just never outgrow it. You could get her to.......whatever. Translate that to "I want her to change something and I don't have the guts to tell her." Bleck. Go try to convince someone else.
I am put off by people who can't ever take responsibility for their actions. They keep moving so fast and putting out more and more information to take the focus off of the fact that they messed up. The thing is.........we ALL mess up. What good is hiding it doing?
My least favorite people are those who do harm to children. Physically, emotionally or otherwise. I mean, how dare they? Kids. Kids aren't supposed to have to fix adult garbage. They aren't there as battering rams or pawns. They are people. Tender, ultra able to forgive, people. I like kids. Can't stand it when kids shoulder the blame of parent's mistakes and decisions.
But the thing is that for every one person like any of these in my life, there are a dozen fine, wonderful, caring people. While my faith isn't in humanity and their ability to be infallible, I am constantly amazed by the amount of kindness there is in the world. Overall, there are more people who are desiring to do the right thing than who are just out to be jerks.
But sometimes you run across those who are just plain mean. I used to think that it was the right thing to stick it out. To even suffer their abuse. To listen to their meanness. I don't anymore. I don't know exactly why. Perhaps it is the realization that life is way too precious to be wasted with the anger and trouble of someone who just wants to make trouble in the world. Some people just aren't happy unless they are creating drama. So, I just let those relationships go.
But, like I said, most relationships, most people are worth getting to know. Take the time. Oh, sure, there are a few that will leave a bad taste, but just like you don't throw away the whole bag of potatoes because one went bad, you shouldn't throw away all relationships because some people choose to live a life of meanness or lies. Because really, all of the good relationships make one bad one now and then worth it.
blessings,
rhonda
Chickens
My husband has a thing for chickens. When the kids were little we raised ducks and geese and chickens. It was a good experience for them. And they got to see things born and that living things die. They fed, watered and buried. Winter and summer. Let's just say that none of us were too terribly sad when those days had past.
Except for my husband, apparently. He still loves his farming feel. So, we have chickens again. He said that he would be solely responsible for them. And he is. Unless he is working late. Every day. Or out of town.The chickens think that I'm there hero. Dumb chickens. I open the door occasionally. And, if they are out in the yard, I toss them scraps from the kitchen door. They hear my "chick chick chick" and they come running. As a matter of fact, they come running whether I want them or have anything for them or not.
They don't realize that I am doing things for them out of obligation. They don't know that if they had new homes I'd be quite content. They trust me. Funny.
In a strange sort of way. I desire no harm to come to them. I just don't really like having them.
But for that one thing..........they make hubby happy. Maybe it feels good to have them following him around. I don't really know the draw. But, it's just one of those things I do because he likes it.
Sometimes in your life you will do things because they make someone else happy. Make sure you are. If you aren't, then probably selfishness has crept in. It is a fine line. You can't do every single thing to make someone else happy, but you can't live not being willing to do what makes someone else happy either. It's a balancing act. It's easy to forget that in relationships that last for a long time.
Today, take stock. Are you taking care of someone's chickens?
blessings,
rhonda
Except for my husband, apparently. He still loves his farming feel. So, we have chickens again. He said that he would be solely responsible for them. And he is. Unless he is working late. Every day. Or out of town.The chickens think that I'm there hero. Dumb chickens. I open the door occasionally. And, if they are out in the yard, I toss them scraps from the kitchen door. They hear my "chick chick chick" and they come running. As a matter of fact, they come running whether I want them or have anything for them or not.
They don't realize that I am doing things for them out of obligation. They don't know that if they had new homes I'd be quite content. They trust me. Funny.
In a strange sort of way. I desire no harm to come to them. I just don't really like having them.
But for that one thing..........they make hubby happy. Maybe it feels good to have them following him around. I don't really know the draw. But, it's just one of those things I do because he likes it.
Sometimes in your life you will do things because they make someone else happy. Make sure you are. If you aren't, then probably selfishness has crept in. It is a fine line. You can't do every single thing to make someone else happy, but you can't live not being willing to do what makes someone else happy either. It's a balancing act. It's easy to forget that in relationships that last for a long time.
Today, take stock. Are you taking care of someone's chickens?
blessings,
rhonda
Thursday, March 25, 2010
Faith and Fancy
I like to create. To dream of what might be. To make something into something else. It is like a necessity to keep me going. I like doing it with food. Chicken can be so many yummy things.....or veggies........or pasta.......it gets my mind going. Love it. Of course, tonight, the favorite meal in a long time of my children was homemade onion rings and batter fried chicken. Ok, yes I served some lettuce and kiwi. I'm not sure that they ate any. They were busy smacking their lips and saying, is there more? Oh, did I forget to mention teh white gravy to dip the chicken in. Very southern meal. I know, it's not art. But when you create something, anything, that others enjoy, that they "get", it feels so satisfying.
I also like to paint things. Remake them into other things. I'm definitely a novice, but it brings me deep satisfaction. Especially when someone says, "wow, you did that?"
There are lots of things I am not. I am not an artist. I am not a chef. I am not a songwriter. I am not even a musician. I don't sing very well. I have lots of things I'm not. But, the things that I am make me think about how the way I feel about them is how you feel when you do those things that I can't do. And I think that it is what makes us in the "image" of God. The ability and desire to create. To take one thing and make it into something else. Ever wonder how God looked at dirt and made a human? Me too. That sense of inspiration that permeates our souls.
For some of you it is with numbers. Or organization. Or cleaning. Or gardening. ( I do like that too........) I'm pretty sure that most human beings are wired with the innate desire to create and make. (not pro-create) Find what makes you tick.
Do you make furniture? Or whittle? Do you write songs? Or stories? Do you have a knack with electricity and you use it to make cool gadgets? Are you a carpenter? A designer? A hair stylist? What is it that makes you feel satisfied?
Where do you get inspired? I like vintage shops. I like to look at really awesome flea markets. I like to sit and dream a little. You might like car magazines. Or knitting circles.
Whatever it is that makes you tick. That brings you satisfaction when people notice it and say, "that's amazing," make time for it. I think that we get so busy with the nuts and bolts of life that we forget the faith and fancy. We were created for a purpose and with a personality. Don't lose it. Use it.
blessings,
rhonda
I also like to paint things. Remake them into other things. I'm definitely a novice, but it brings me deep satisfaction. Especially when someone says, "wow, you did that?"
There are lots of things I am not. I am not an artist. I am not a chef. I am not a songwriter. I am not even a musician. I don't sing very well. I have lots of things I'm not. But, the things that I am make me think about how the way I feel about them is how you feel when you do those things that I can't do. And I think that it is what makes us in the "image" of God. The ability and desire to create. To take one thing and make it into something else. Ever wonder how God looked at dirt and made a human? Me too. That sense of inspiration that permeates our souls.
For some of you it is with numbers. Or organization. Or cleaning. Or gardening. ( I do like that too........) I'm pretty sure that most human beings are wired with the innate desire to create and make. (not pro-create) Find what makes you tick.
Do you make furniture? Or whittle? Do you write songs? Or stories? Do you have a knack with electricity and you use it to make cool gadgets? Are you a carpenter? A designer? A hair stylist? What is it that makes you feel satisfied?
Where do you get inspired? I like vintage shops. I like to look at really awesome flea markets. I like to sit and dream a little. You might like car magazines. Or knitting circles.
Whatever it is that makes you tick. That brings you satisfaction when people notice it and say, "that's amazing," make time for it. I think that we get so busy with the nuts and bolts of life that we forget the faith and fancy. We were created for a purpose and with a personality. Don't lose it. Use it.
blessings,
rhonda
Wednesday, March 24, 2010
The Fox is at the Door
Last night, close to one, I was awakened to a horrific sound. I struggled to wake up. To hear. To place the sound. I said, "honey, what's that sound?"
"don't know." snore.
"fine, I'll go check."
I listened. Trying to wrap my mind around it. Baby crying? No, don't have one. Anna having a nightmare? I stopped at her door. No.
It sounded again. Loudly. I went to the glass centered front door.
A big fox looked up at me and ran off of the porch as our cats playmate cat ran out from behind a cabinet. My heart was racing. "Go kitty, go far away."
But, all seemed well. And I went back to my bed. And the howling began again. Apparently the cat likes to be on our porch at night. The fox waited for me to go away and came right back. Chased it away again. By now I am wide awake and worried. I can't find our cat.
But, all is quiet, so once again I head to bed. And the bellering begins. But not on our porch. Off to the east of it. I can't quite see. I can't go out the door because by now my chihuahua, Stella, is at the door with her dander up and wants to get at whatever it is. John comes out in his sleeping outfit with A BB GUN!!!
And I say, "I don't want to hurt the cat," and he says that he'll just shoot it at the fox so that it will run off and maybe not come back to bother the cat OR the chickens for a while.
But, I still can't open the door. Stella. I pound on it. Make noise. Finally, the howling ceases.
And my heart drops. Did Pearl's friend get eaten? He's a big cat.
However, just then, the fox goes across our drive out to the road. Nothing in his mouth. Whew. Crisis averted.
For now.
Of course, I went back to bed concerned that I never did find Pearl. But I'm sure she was on some heater vent somewhere.
Problems in life are sometimes like that fox at the door. They catch us when we are least alert, not really dressed nor ready for it and don't go away when we thought we had solved them. We just have to diligently keep chasing them away.
blessings,
rhonda
"don't know." snore.
"fine, I'll go check."
I listened. Trying to wrap my mind around it. Baby crying? No, don't have one. Anna having a nightmare? I stopped at her door. No.
It sounded again. Loudly. I went to the glass centered front door.
A big fox looked up at me and ran off of the porch as our cats playmate cat ran out from behind a cabinet. My heart was racing. "Go kitty, go far away."
But, all seemed well. And I went back to my bed. And the howling began again. Apparently the cat likes to be on our porch at night. The fox waited for me to go away and came right back. Chased it away again. By now I am wide awake and worried. I can't find our cat.
But, all is quiet, so once again I head to bed. And the bellering begins. But not on our porch. Off to the east of it. I can't quite see. I can't go out the door because by now my chihuahua, Stella, is at the door with her dander up and wants to get at whatever it is. John comes out in his sleeping outfit with A BB GUN!!!
And I say, "I don't want to hurt the cat," and he says that he'll just shoot it at the fox so that it will run off and maybe not come back to bother the cat OR the chickens for a while.
But, I still can't open the door. Stella. I pound on it. Make noise. Finally, the howling ceases.
And my heart drops. Did Pearl's friend get eaten? He's a big cat.
However, just then, the fox goes across our drive out to the road. Nothing in his mouth. Whew. Crisis averted.
For now.
Of course, I went back to bed concerned that I never did find Pearl. But I'm sure she was on some heater vent somewhere.
Problems in life are sometimes like that fox at the door. They catch us when we are least alert, not really dressed nor ready for it and don't go away when we thought we had solved them. We just have to diligently keep chasing them away.
blessings,
rhonda
Gifts
I love to find the perfect gift. What a splendid feeling to see something that is fabulous or even that will bring a chuckle. It's a good feeling. But, the feeling is only there if I actually give the gift away. If I hold onto the gift. Put it in the closet. Box it up. The gift is not complete until it's given away.
That's how it is with the other kind of gifts. The talent kind of gift. The gift of being able to do something. Or see something. Or create something. Until the gift is given away, it isn't really a gift at all. If you sing like a pretty bird but nobody ever hears you, it's a gift, but it's incomplete until you share it.
Today, look over your gifts and see how you can give them away (share) them in your world. It'll be fun. Not some gift someone else has that you are trying to imitate. Your own. If you clean, clean fully. If you create, create wholeheartedly. If you cook, cook lots. If you dream, dream big. If you encourage, encourage enthusiastically. Whatever it is, go Nike and ...................Just Do It!!!
blessings,
rhonda
That's how it is with the other kind of gifts. The talent kind of gift. The gift of being able to do something. Or see something. Or create something. Until the gift is given away, it isn't really a gift at all. If you sing like a pretty bird but nobody ever hears you, it's a gift, but it's incomplete until you share it.
Today, look over your gifts and see how you can give them away (share) them in your world. It'll be fun. Not some gift someone else has that you are trying to imitate. Your own. If you clean, clean fully. If you create, create wholeheartedly. If you cook, cook lots. If you dream, dream big. If you encourage, encourage enthusiastically. Whatever it is, go Nike and ...................Just Do It!!!
blessings,
rhonda
Tuesday, March 23, 2010
So Then, How Shall I Pray
I have prayed for my children since birth. Before birth even. Even before conception. Prayed to be a good mama. Prayed for their health.......10 toes 10 fingers.......remember? Prayed for each and every little pain. Prayed for their future spouses, careers, friends, choices decisions.
But my prayers have taken a turn. Not a list. Something deeper. For my children are not simply extensions of me. They are their own people
Lord, allow them to see how uniquely created they are. To hear the voice of their own passions and not succumb to becoming what anyone else tries to put upon them but to do what is uniquely suited to them. Help me to be sensitive to that. Allow me to let them go. To let them make decisions. To love without conditions. I want to be a cheerleader and coach. The one who encourages them onward when they feel beaten down. I want to sense who you are creating them to be and not to stand in the way of that. I want to believe for them that no dream is too big or impossible because nothing is impossible for You.
That's a little sample of how I've changed. I still pray for them, but I've noticed that my prayers have also become about me becoming the person I need to be in order to allow them to become who they are. Oh, I'm still bossy. To the youngers. I still have high expectations. But, I look harder for their gifts and talents and joys. I look to see how to encourage them in taking the next step. I offer the suggestion of them praying and reading their Bibles, but I don't push the issue anymore. I want them to thirst after their God because He is indeed theirs. I want them to long to know the One who created those dreams in their hearts. But my pushing will only push them away. I have to get out of the way enough to allow that God to woo them Himself. He is able.
As they get older, the prayers are more fervent. More on the line. I have to learn to see them through the eyes of their Father. I have to learn to know that they will be fine. No matter what comes. I can't control things. I can only encourage, love, pray and try to show compassion.
So, then, how shall I pray? Often. For my insight and their choices. For my tender heart and their wisdom. I shall pray for both of us. That they may grow in wisdom and stature and in favor with both God and man.
blessings,
rhonda
But my prayers have taken a turn. Not a list. Something deeper. For my children are not simply extensions of me. They are their own people
Lord, allow them to see how uniquely created they are. To hear the voice of their own passions and not succumb to becoming what anyone else tries to put upon them but to do what is uniquely suited to them. Help me to be sensitive to that. Allow me to let them go. To let them make decisions. To love without conditions. I want to be a cheerleader and coach. The one who encourages them onward when they feel beaten down. I want to sense who you are creating them to be and not to stand in the way of that. I want to believe for them that no dream is too big or impossible because nothing is impossible for You.
That's a little sample of how I've changed. I still pray for them, but I've noticed that my prayers have also become about me becoming the person I need to be in order to allow them to become who they are. Oh, I'm still bossy. To the youngers. I still have high expectations. But, I look harder for their gifts and talents and joys. I look to see how to encourage them in taking the next step. I offer the suggestion of them praying and reading their Bibles, but I don't push the issue anymore. I want them to thirst after their God because He is indeed theirs. I want them to long to know the One who created those dreams in their hearts. But my pushing will only push them away. I have to get out of the way enough to allow that God to woo them Himself. He is able.
As they get older, the prayers are more fervent. More on the line. I have to learn to see them through the eyes of their Father. I have to learn to know that they will be fine. No matter what comes. I can't control things. I can only encourage, love, pray and try to show compassion.
So, then, how shall I pray? Often. For my insight and their choices. For my tender heart and their wisdom. I shall pray for both of us. That they may grow in wisdom and stature and in favor with both God and man.
blessings,
rhonda
Sense of Style
Truly, I have very little skill in making a great outfit. I don't know what it is. But, most days, I at least try. But, today I was dressed. Looked ok for working around the house and then I was supposed to go and create at Deedee's. But it was getting colder so on my way out the door I grabbed an old, holey, comfy sweater and threw it on. Little did I know that I would regret that for most of the day.
I went over to work. She made me find some fabric. Then, she got a call from her dear mama and I made myself scarce upstairs with the computer. Gotta write whenever I get a minute you know. And then she said that mama had gone to Olive Garden and didn't that sound yummy. I concurred. And, off we went. To Fort Collins. We don't have an Olive Garden. So, obviously, we had to go to thrift stores along the way. You can't waste these opportunities.
So, I was seen all along the front range including IN the Olive Garden in a sweater devoid of buttons, a hole in the armpit...........sigh. It was cold. I wasn't taking it off. I know, fashion should have won out.........but really, I would have frozen.
And at one point, I had to consciously decide to just feel confident and be me. Then I saw myself in a mirror and sighed deeply. Not much hope for me. But, I'm fun. And, I do LIKE to look better than that.
What a gracious friend I have. She didn't refuse to be seen with me or anything. She was dressed as stylishly as usual. Great boots. She had done her hair. Make up. I did comb my hair. I was clean. Teeth brushed.
But I've decided, I am not going to do anything without dressing like I'm going out. So, you might find me in the garden in my cute clothes.
Ok, probably not. But there's something I'm really glad about. I'm glad that I went. I'm glad that I didn't say, "oh, I'm not dressed right, so I can't go today." I had fun. I enjoyed the adventure of the rain and then snow that rolled in. It was a good time.
I got new clothes while I was out. Ok, I got thrift store clothes. They are cute. For a nice spring day. sigh.
Don't miss out when you don't fit in clothing wise. Just stand tall. Walk confidently. Smile. Enjoy the people you are with. That's what life is really about. The great clothes just make it a little easier to pull off with confidence.
blessings,
rhonda
I went over to work. She made me find some fabric. Then, she got a call from her dear mama and I made myself scarce upstairs with the computer. Gotta write whenever I get a minute you know. And then she said that mama had gone to Olive Garden and didn't that sound yummy. I concurred. And, off we went. To Fort Collins. We don't have an Olive Garden. So, obviously, we had to go to thrift stores along the way. You can't waste these opportunities.
So, I was seen all along the front range including IN the Olive Garden in a sweater devoid of buttons, a hole in the armpit...........sigh. It was cold. I wasn't taking it off. I know, fashion should have won out.........but really, I would have frozen.
And at one point, I had to consciously decide to just feel confident and be me. Then I saw myself in a mirror and sighed deeply. Not much hope for me. But, I'm fun. And, I do LIKE to look better than that.
What a gracious friend I have. She didn't refuse to be seen with me or anything. She was dressed as stylishly as usual. Great boots. She had done her hair. Make up. I did comb my hair. I was clean. Teeth brushed.
But I've decided, I am not going to do anything without dressing like I'm going out. So, you might find me in the garden in my cute clothes.
Ok, probably not. But there's something I'm really glad about. I'm glad that I went. I'm glad that I didn't say, "oh, I'm not dressed right, so I can't go today." I had fun. I enjoyed the adventure of the rain and then snow that rolled in. It was a good time.
I got new clothes while I was out. Ok, I got thrift store clothes. They are cute. For a nice spring day. sigh.
Don't miss out when you don't fit in clothing wise. Just stand tall. Walk confidently. Smile. Enjoy the people you are with. That's what life is really about. The great clothes just make it a little easier to pull off with confidence.
blessings,
rhonda
Purpose Where Art Thou
I confess. I am a middle aged woman who is wondering exactly what my purpose is and will be as my children flee, I mean, leave the nest. I have enjoyed raising them. They are stunningly wonderful people to know. Seriously. I have no regrets for them. Oh, don't get me wrong. I blew it regularly. Yelled. Griped. Nagged. Misunderstood. Didn't love outwardly enough. All kinds of things. But, what I mean is that they have done well. They have made good lives for themselves. They are smart and able to make choices well. I don't always agree, but I don't have to with those older ones.....their lives, their choices.
But what does that mean for me? How am I defined? I wish that it were as simple as "I love God and want to seek what He has for each day." But that seems like a bit of a simplistic plan. I mean, I need to work. I need to contribute. I need to.........the voices keep coming.
But in those moments of brief silence, I hear THE voice. The one that has taken me through each stage of my life. Just follow me. Just be you. It will be enough. It will honor me most.
So, WHO AM I?
That has been my quest. Learning about who God made me to be. For real. Not who I become to keep people happy. Not the mask I don to keep the peace. And I struggle. I wish I had her gifts. Or her looks. Or her strength. Or her kindness. But, I got what I got. And I'm kind of learning to enjoy this woman I'm coming to know. She's spunky. She has courage. She loves deeply. She enjoys easily. She forgives. She protects. She is stubborn.
But what is the purpose of this package? I don't know yet. I get brief glimpses. But you know, I'm not afraid. I'm ok with my purpose for today. This moment. Tomorrow will have new and different purposes.
I look forward to them with anticipation. Come along and the journey with me. Find who you are meant to be. Revel in it. It is a lot more fun than trying to be who everyone expects.
blessings,
rhonda
But what does that mean for me? How am I defined? I wish that it were as simple as "I love God and want to seek what He has for each day." But that seems like a bit of a simplistic plan. I mean, I need to work. I need to contribute. I need to.........the voices keep coming.
But in those moments of brief silence, I hear THE voice. The one that has taken me through each stage of my life. Just follow me. Just be you. It will be enough. It will honor me most.
So, WHO AM I?
That has been my quest. Learning about who God made me to be. For real. Not who I become to keep people happy. Not the mask I don to keep the peace. And I struggle. I wish I had her gifts. Or her looks. Or her strength. Or her kindness. But, I got what I got. And I'm kind of learning to enjoy this woman I'm coming to know. She's spunky. She has courage. She loves deeply. She enjoys easily. She forgives. She protects. She is stubborn.
But what is the purpose of this package? I don't know yet. I get brief glimpses. But you know, I'm not afraid. I'm ok with my purpose for today. This moment. Tomorrow will have new and different purposes.
I look forward to them with anticipation. Come along and the journey with me. Find who you are meant to be. Revel in it. It is a lot more fun than trying to be who everyone expects.
blessings,
rhonda
I'll Be Your Candle On the Water
Yes, that little known song from a Disney movie back in the dark ages of my childhood. The movie was Pete's Dragon. I loved that movie. Cried through most of it, even as a child. But the song, I'll Your Candle On the Water, has always stuck with me. for 30+ years.
When the world is dark. When you feel lost. Or stuck in a pit. When the mire is closing in and you are only hearing the sucking sound as you sink into the slime. When life is overwhelming. When you want to give up. Give in. When you have failed. Again. When you feel pitiful. Even if you don't know why. You need a candle. A light.
You need to know which direction to go to get back to the land of the living. To the land of light.
In our culture of independence and self reliance, we get locked up, locked out and completely isolated way too easily. In our deepest need, we find ourselves in the darkness.
I don't mean that we are necessarily doing something wrong at those times. I am not talking of evil. I am speaking of the pains and troubles that all who journey the earth face.
You are NOT alone. You need a candle. You need a friend. A spouse. A child. You need a someone, not a lecture or advice. You need someone to hold up the torch so that you can see how to get back.
It's important to cultivate relationships for many reasons. This is one of them. The candle holder has to be someone that you have grown to trust in the better times of life. Someone you look to and respect. It has to be someone that cares about you.......the real you......you know the kind of person? The kind of person who actually sees you.
We all need those who bring light back into our lives. Who draw us out of our caves and encourage us to live amongst the living again.
Be this kind of person to others. And don't be ashamed when you need them to be it for you. Your light for one actually reflects around. Often it touches the lives of many more than one.
Be courageous in receiving help. Be active in giving help. Love. Genuine love. Compassion.
How will you bring light? It will come to you. Be creative. Be you.
blessings,
rhonda
When the world is dark. When you feel lost. Or stuck in a pit. When the mire is closing in and you are only hearing the sucking sound as you sink into the slime. When life is overwhelming. When you want to give up. Give in. When you have failed. Again. When you feel pitiful. Even if you don't know why. You need a candle. A light.
You need to know which direction to go to get back to the land of the living. To the land of light.
In our culture of independence and self reliance, we get locked up, locked out and completely isolated way too easily. In our deepest need, we find ourselves in the darkness.
I don't mean that we are necessarily doing something wrong at those times. I am not talking of evil. I am speaking of the pains and troubles that all who journey the earth face.
You are NOT alone. You need a candle. You need a friend. A spouse. A child. You need a someone, not a lecture or advice. You need someone to hold up the torch so that you can see how to get back.
It's important to cultivate relationships for many reasons. This is one of them. The candle holder has to be someone that you have grown to trust in the better times of life. Someone you look to and respect. It has to be someone that cares about you.......the real you......you know the kind of person? The kind of person who actually sees you.
We all need those who bring light back into our lives. Who draw us out of our caves and encourage us to live amongst the living again.
Be this kind of person to others. And don't be ashamed when you need them to be it for you. Your light for one actually reflects around. Often it touches the lives of many more than one.
Be courageous in receiving help. Be active in giving help. Love. Genuine love. Compassion.
How will you bring light? It will come to you. Be creative. Be you.
blessings,
rhonda
Monday, March 22, 2010
Faith Plus
I am one of those people that is enthralled by little things. Today I saw three BIG elk........one with a HUGE rack, near my kids' school. It was beautiful. I like to enjoy the sun coming up or going down. I enjoy watching the flames of the fire in my fireplace. I can see pictures in teh texture on the wall. Who knows, we probably have one of the Virgin Mary that we could sell for big bucks.
All of that to say that it doesn't take much to get me to thinking.
It's an enjoyable way to be. And frustrating. Because I wonder about things.
Like today.
I'm wondering how it is that we have come to add so much to what it means to be a people of faith. I think that the Bible is pretty clear that it is simply believing what it says. Don't add. Don't take away.
So why do we adhere to "cleanliness is next to Godliness" as if it's in one of the gospels? Why do we equate what a person does for a vocation with some things being more spiritual and others being less so?
Why can't we walk our walk without adding to the whole thing? I think that it's fear. We are afraid that we won't know if we are failing or succeeding. We want a thermometer, a meter, a measuring stick. So, we make up rules to give us indicators of how well we are doing in relationship to others.
Unfortunately, our rules generally have very little to do with what Jesus was talking about. They are good things. Being clean is a plus. Washing the sheets. Mopping the floor. Brushing your teeth and washing your hair. But does it really make someone closer to God?
Is the job that you do a good indicator of your spiritual walk? Is a pilot less close to God than a pastor? I don't think so. Each person has callings and purposes. They are close to God if they are fulfilling those. Some people become pastors for the wrong reasons. Preaching does not indicate closeness to God.
The main things are lost in the minutiae. We lose ourselves in checking if people's clothes are matched, their houses adequate, their cars clean, their yards pretty, their children in sunday school, their checks in the offering plate, their skirt long enough, their movies clean enough, their books christian, their marriages looking good. And we lose the whole point. The point is for each individual to seek God. To love Him. To believe that Jesus made the way to Him.
And the Bible says that you'll know those people by how they love. Period. The homeless. The down and out. The drug addict. The prisoner. The realtor. The preacher. The rich. The trash collector. All have one standard. Do you believe that Jesus is the Son of God?
From there, God works with people. He gave us a little measuring stick because He knows us so well. Love. Love God. Love the people around you like you love yourself. That's it.
When kids see our long lists, they are put off of faith. It is just another way to control. The thing is that God didn't say that either. He said that in Him we are FREE.
So, take a deep breath. Explore the idea a little bit. Maybe you will find that freedom is just what you are looking for. But beware, it's scary. It's hard not to stand next to a measuring stick and be able to compare yourself to the people around you. I mean, we ten to compare ourselves based on what we do well.......and we can feel pretty good about ourselves.
I think the point is that none of us should be thinking about ourselves more highly than we should. We are all people. All in need of a bridge to the Father. All on a journey. No point in comparing. None of us are God.
Faith plus anything else creates despair. To be hope in our world, we must offer faith without offering our own measuring sticks as part of the "deal."
Today, shed the things that hold you back and keep you tied up. If you are in Christ, you are free. Live.
blessings,
rhonda
All of that to say that it doesn't take much to get me to thinking.
It's an enjoyable way to be. And frustrating. Because I wonder about things.
Like today.
I'm wondering how it is that we have come to add so much to what it means to be a people of faith. I think that the Bible is pretty clear that it is simply believing what it says. Don't add. Don't take away.
So why do we adhere to "cleanliness is next to Godliness" as if it's in one of the gospels? Why do we equate what a person does for a vocation with some things being more spiritual and others being less so?
Why can't we walk our walk without adding to the whole thing? I think that it's fear. We are afraid that we won't know if we are failing or succeeding. We want a thermometer, a meter, a measuring stick. So, we make up rules to give us indicators of how well we are doing in relationship to others.
Unfortunately, our rules generally have very little to do with what Jesus was talking about. They are good things. Being clean is a plus. Washing the sheets. Mopping the floor. Brushing your teeth and washing your hair. But does it really make someone closer to God?
Is the job that you do a good indicator of your spiritual walk? Is a pilot less close to God than a pastor? I don't think so. Each person has callings and purposes. They are close to God if they are fulfilling those. Some people become pastors for the wrong reasons. Preaching does not indicate closeness to God.
The main things are lost in the minutiae. We lose ourselves in checking if people's clothes are matched, their houses adequate, their cars clean, their yards pretty, their children in sunday school, their checks in the offering plate, their skirt long enough, their movies clean enough, their books christian, their marriages looking good. And we lose the whole point. The point is for each individual to seek God. To love Him. To believe that Jesus made the way to Him.
And the Bible says that you'll know those people by how they love. Period. The homeless. The down and out. The drug addict. The prisoner. The realtor. The preacher. The rich. The trash collector. All have one standard. Do you believe that Jesus is the Son of God?
From there, God works with people. He gave us a little measuring stick because He knows us so well. Love. Love God. Love the people around you like you love yourself. That's it.
When kids see our long lists, they are put off of faith. It is just another way to control. The thing is that God didn't say that either. He said that in Him we are FREE.
So, take a deep breath. Explore the idea a little bit. Maybe you will find that freedom is just what you are looking for. But beware, it's scary. It's hard not to stand next to a measuring stick and be able to compare yourself to the people around you. I mean, we ten to compare ourselves based on what we do well.......and we can feel pretty good about ourselves.
I think the point is that none of us should be thinking about ourselves more highly than we should. We are all people. All in need of a bridge to the Father. All on a journey. No point in comparing. None of us are God.
Faith plus anything else creates despair. To be hope in our world, we must offer faith without offering our own measuring sticks as part of the "deal."
Today, shed the things that hold you back and keep you tied up. If you are in Christ, you are free. Live.
blessings,
rhonda
To FB or Not to FB.....that is the question
Here I am. I am not on facebook as I write this. Though my friends would be shocked. I am on my blogspot. I import it to facebook to share it with my friend who would otherwise not read it.
I have heard lots of debating about facebook and the evils and the benefits. I believe that there are plenty of both. It can be addictive if you get started on those games. I was a word games nut for a couple of months. I quit. Cold turkey. Now, I'm a social gamer. ;) Maybe two games every two months. And strangely, when I got out of the competition of it, it was less exciting to go back and play. Then, I joined the Mafia Wars to help my one son kill the other one. They are mobsters, you know. But, I found no joy in that. Thought it was dumb. Then I started a farm so that my farming friends would talk to me when they were sending me stuff, since they were too busy farming to chat. Alas, I sucked at fake farming. So, now I do what I got on facebook to do. I interact.
I enjoy being able to pray for people, talk to people, see what they are doing. Not stalking, just enjoying their quips, fears, hopes, journeys.
I think that I probably enjoy it so much because I tend to be a social introvert. I don't like being all alone all of the time, but I don't like large crowds and chit chat either. Facebook is a way for me to get to know people better within a structure that fits my personality. Some of my friends are mostly "friends in a box." We uplift and encourage one another via facebook. We see one another at other times, but don't necessarily plan those times. But on facebook, we can sit and have a heart to heart.
My energy level probably contributes to my enjoyment of facebook. I can get to interact without as much physical outlay of energy. It means that I can enjoy more people. I like that.
Honestly, I really like my facebook. I don't abuse it. I'm not looking to have a thousand friends. I don't befriend strangers. I don't stalk my kids.......unless Isaac is supposed to be in bed, then I message him. ;)
But there are dangers. No strangers as friends. Not in mafia, not in mousehunt. I believe it's dangerous. Don't let strangers know where you live, how many kids you have and what you had for breakfast. If you have to have those friends to play the game, start a bogus facebook without any info on it at all. No pics. No personal info. Just the game.
Some people say that facebook can cause infidelity. People are meeting old lovers or something. Well, I guess it could be true. I have met up with a few old friends from high school. Haven't wanted to date them. Let alone have an affair. Infidelity probably is caused by something deeper than signing up for facebook. At least, that's my take.
I love getting glimpses of the lives of my friends and family around the world......literally. It keeps me alert to what is happening in their lives. You can lament the fact that you are not getting as much snail mail. I do. Desperately. I can probably count on one hand the hand addressed to me items I get in a year. I love real mail. But the fact of life is that my kids and this next generation communicate differently. I want to be a part of the communication, so I step up and join in. Kind of like my grandparents getting a phone. They didn't grow up with them. They didn't understand my spending hours on it. But they got one. They used it to talk to their kids around the world.
The world is always changing. We don't have to be afraid of it. We just need to be wise in how we use it.
Enjoy responsibly.
blessings,
rhonda
I have heard lots of debating about facebook and the evils and the benefits. I believe that there are plenty of both. It can be addictive if you get started on those games. I was a word games nut for a couple of months. I quit. Cold turkey. Now, I'm a social gamer. ;) Maybe two games every two months. And strangely, when I got out of the competition of it, it was less exciting to go back and play. Then, I joined the Mafia Wars to help my one son kill the other one. They are mobsters, you know. But, I found no joy in that. Thought it was dumb. Then I started a farm so that my farming friends would talk to me when they were sending me stuff, since they were too busy farming to chat. Alas, I sucked at fake farming. So, now I do what I got on facebook to do. I interact.
I enjoy being able to pray for people, talk to people, see what they are doing. Not stalking, just enjoying their quips, fears, hopes, journeys.
I think that I probably enjoy it so much because I tend to be a social introvert. I don't like being all alone all of the time, but I don't like large crowds and chit chat either. Facebook is a way for me to get to know people better within a structure that fits my personality. Some of my friends are mostly "friends in a box." We uplift and encourage one another via facebook. We see one another at other times, but don't necessarily plan those times. But on facebook, we can sit and have a heart to heart.
My energy level probably contributes to my enjoyment of facebook. I can get to interact without as much physical outlay of energy. It means that I can enjoy more people. I like that.
Honestly, I really like my facebook. I don't abuse it. I'm not looking to have a thousand friends. I don't befriend strangers. I don't stalk my kids.......unless Isaac is supposed to be in bed, then I message him. ;)
But there are dangers. No strangers as friends. Not in mafia, not in mousehunt. I believe it's dangerous. Don't let strangers know where you live, how many kids you have and what you had for breakfast. If you have to have those friends to play the game, start a bogus facebook without any info on it at all. No pics. No personal info. Just the game.
Some people say that facebook can cause infidelity. People are meeting old lovers or something. Well, I guess it could be true. I have met up with a few old friends from high school. Haven't wanted to date them. Let alone have an affair. Infidelity probably is caused by something deeper than signing up for facebook. At least, that's my take.
I love getting glimpses of the lives of my friends and family around the world......literally. It keeps me alert to what is happening in their lives. You can lament the fact that you are not getting as much snail mail. I do. Desperately. I can probably count on one hand the hand addressed to me items I get in a year. I love real mail. But the fact of life is that my kids and this next generation communicate differently. I want to be a part of the communication, so I step up and join in. Kind of like my grandparents getting a phone. They didn't grow up with them. They didn't understand my spending hours on it. But they got one. They used it to talk to their kids around the world.
The world is always changing. We don't have to be afraid of it. We just need to be wise in how we use it.
Enjoy responsibly.
blessings,
rhonda
Gotta Love Those Weakends
No. I am not spelling challenged. Keyboarding challenged a little bit, but not spelling. I know that difference between week and weak. Though the new generation texters might not. Abbreviations are so in vogue that it's hard to tell.
But my faux pas in purposeful. I am having one of those weakdays. Weakdays are the days when things are kind of slow and a little harder to do. Days where putting your arms above your head seems like too much. Days where you get up only to sit back down a few moments later.
Weakdays have the power to sap you emotionally because you are so focused on how consumed you are by your current illness or chronic illness or depression or pain or remorse or tiredness. They can take away the joy of the moment. Sometimes they become the central part of life.
But, they don't have to. Today is a weakday. I've had a cold. No big deal. But yesterday I borrowed energy that I should have saved up for today. I had an energy drink when I should have had a nap. I stayed up late when I should have gone to bed. I don't regret it an iota. I had a wonderful time hearing kids laugh. Watching people interact and play games. Talking with friends. Commiserating. Sharing. Got to go to class with my sixth grader. Have a nice meatloaf lunch on my pretty new dishes.
But, for me, those things all equal choices. Especially when I'm sick with a virus as well. My body isn't as strong as some. It hurts a bit. I know pretty well what I can and can't do. I know my allotment for each day or week. Kind of funny. But, the thing is that I find a pleasure that maybe healthier people don't find. I find that I know in my heart and soul that when I CHOOSE to do something, I am giving a huge part of myself. I am giving more than just my time. I am giving out of a limited amount of energy. It makes me think. Not usually to others. Ok, not to others. This might be the first time any of you have ever heard this.
But this is not a curse. Though I railed and screamed and fought against it. Though I have prayed for healing and answers. This is a gift. It is a gift of being able to see what things cost. It's the gift of being able to choose to spend the time. And of knowing that it wasn't a gift out of my excess. I like that.
Though most people don't realize it, I know that each choice for me is a minus of that days energy. Picking up the kids. Driving back to the school. Wrestling my daughter around. Planting grass seed. Making dinner. Taking a bath. Moving a chair.
And when I have a virus it's worse. And when I push really hard one day, I have to make up for it the next day.
I'm not looking for answers or sympathy. I am giving explanation to some of you for how I and many others live day to day. I am not sad about my life. I am exuberant. I probably appreciate my time more than people who have endless energy.
But I do love those weakends. There are those moments. They are rare. But, they occur......where I feel almost normal. Where I wake up in the morning refreshed. Or have an abundance of energy. I know, everyone lives for the weakends. I have learned not to. I have learned to live in the weakdays. To do what I need to do. And then, when a weakend comes, I am surprised and amazed and thrilled by it. I don't waste my other days lamenting that they aren't weakends.
I don't know where this finds you. I hope you are well. But if you find yourself struggling. Realizing that it's not a battle. Not a contest. Not a matter of who gets the most done. It's about being you and doing what you do and what you can do.
Strangely, on weakdays, I give myself more permission to write. Makes me feel productive when I am not up and about. I like it. It brings me pleasure.
If you are having weakdays, find what brings you pleasure and do it. Read. Write. Contemplate. Be still. Pray. Hope. Believe. Encourage. It takes very little energy to give to someone else.........you just have to be creative about it.
Here's to appreciating the weakends because of the weakdays!
blessings,
rhonda
But my faux pas in purposeful. I am having one of those weakdays. Weakdays are the days when things are kind of slow and a little harder to do. Days where putting your arms above your head seems like too much. Days where you get up only to sit back down a few moments later.
Weakdays have the power to sap you emotionally because you are so focused on how consumed you are by your current illness or chronic illness or depression or pain or remorse or tiredness. They can take away the joy of the moment. Sometimes they become the central part of life.
But, they don't have to. Today is a weakday. I've had a cold. No big deal. But yesterday I borrowed energy that I should have saved up for today. I had an energy drink when I should have had a nap. I stayed up late when I should have gone to bed. I don't regret it an iota. I had a wonderful time hearing kids laugh. Watching people interact and play games. Talking with friends. Commiserating. Sharing. Got to go to class with my sixth grader. Have a nice meatloaf lunch on my pretty new dishes.
But, for me, those things all equal choices. Especially when I'm sick with a virus as well. My body isn't as strong as some. It hurts a bit. I know pretty well what I can and can't do. I know my allotment for each day or week. Kind of funny. But, the thing is that I find a pleasure that maybe healthier people don't find. I find that I know in my heart and soul that when I CHOOSE to do something, I am giving a huge part of myself. I am giving more than just my time. I am giving out of a limited amount of energy. It makes me think. Not usually to others. Ok, not to others. This might be the first time any of you have ever heard this.
But this is not a curse. Though I railed and screamed and fought against it. Though I have prayed for healing and answers. This is a gift. It is a gift of being able to see what things cost. It's the gift of being able to choose to spend the time. And of knowing that it wasn't a gift out of my excess. I like that.
Though most people don't realize it, I know that each choice for me is a minus of that days energy. Picking up the kids. Driving back to the school. Wrestling my daughter around. Planting grass seed. Making dinner. Taking a bath. Moving a chair.
And when I have a virus it's worse. And when I push really hard one day, I have to make up for it the next day.
I'm not looking for answers or sympathy. I am giving explanation to some of you for how I and many others live day to day. I am not sad about my life. I am exuberant. I probably appreciate my time more than people who have endless energy.
But I do love those weakends. There are those moments. They are rare. But, they occur......where I feel almost normal. Where I wake up in the morning refreshed. Or have an abundance of energy. I know, everyone lives for the weakends. I have learned not to. I have learned to live in the weakdays. To do what I need to do. And then, when a weakend comes, I am surprised and amazed and thrilled by it. I don't waste my other days lamenting that they aren't weakends.
I don't know where this finds you. I hope you are well. But if you find yourself struggling. Realizing that it's not a battle. Not a contest. Not a matter of who gets the most done. It's about being you and doing what you do and what you can do.
Strangely, on weakdays, I give myself more permission to write. Makes me feel productive when I am not up and about. I like it. It brings me pleasure.
If you are having weakdays, find what brings you pleasure and do it. Read. Write. Contemplate. Be still. Pray. Hope. Believe. Encourage. It takes very little energy to give to someone else.........you just have to be creative about it.
Here's to appreciating the weakends because of the weakdays!
blessings,
rhonda
PSALM 147 and ISAIAH 46
Where do you run when you need advice? When the world keeps pushing? When you are ill? When life isn't fair. When you hurt inside and out? As a christian, I tend to run to the Bible. However, I have to say that the last few months I have had a rather different relationship. I had found that my quiet times......times reading the Bible......were in my heart an obligation, a way to feel more as if I was being "good enough". I've had a really rough year. I have found most every foundation shaken. And frankly, I needed the God who loved me just like me. No frills. No performance. No abilities. No wonderfulness of my own.
And He has met me there. Without conditions. With great compassion. With love. And for most all of this time, I have run to Psalm 147 and Isaiah 46. He is faithful. He does not depend on what I do to remain faithful. Everything is about Him. He has a plan. He holds me. He does not need my strength to be impressed by me. He cherishes me, carries me, rescues me. That must mean He knows I need to be carried and rescued and He is not offended by that.
I used to think that somehow it was more pleasing to be more proficient. To be more godly was to follow a certain plan. A plan can establish good habits. But, following God according to some recipe tends to lead to arrogance rather than humility. Not humiliation. He never humiliates us. He gives us dignity though He sees us in the pit. In the slime. In the mire. But the best times of my life are when I see myself there and realize that honestly, there's nothing I can really do to be any better. I go from one thing to another. I'm no worse and no better than you. We are not perfect. We have stuff. We are, without once exception, people who have issues. For all of our lives.
But, the best thing that has happened to me spiritually is to find that He is completely faithful. "they stoop and bow down together; unable to rescue the burden, they themselves go off into captivity.".............."but listen..........you whom Ihave upheld since you were conceived, (before I was born), and have carried since your birth, even to your old age and gray hairs I am he, I am he who will sustain you. I have made you and I will carry you; I will sustain you and I will rescue you."
And I wonder why. How come. I am a mess.
"To whom will you compare me or count me equal? To whom will you liken me that we may be compared?.....remember this, fix it in mind, take it to heart, you rebels. .........I am God, and there is no other; I am God, and there is none like me. I make known the end from the beginning.........my purpose will stand, and I will do all that I please."
"He heals the brokenhearted and binds up their wounds. He determines the number of the stars and calls them each by name. Great is our Lord and mighty in power; His understanding has no limit. The Lord sustains the humble.....His pleasure is not in the strength of the horse, nor his delight in the legs of a man; the Lord delights in those who fear him, who put their hope in his unfailing love. ........."
He amazes me. He is satisfied with my weakness. He wants me to see it. To know that it doesn't matter to Him or to His purposes how well equipped I think I am or how strong or how smart. He wants me to see myself clearly so that I can see Him clearly. He wants me to know that it is by His strength and power that His renown, His reputation, His plan will be accomplished and made known.
And so, I am at peace. Not rushing around trying to be a super christian. Resting. Being held. Growing. Being nurtured. Feeling His cherished breath speaking hope to my soul. Night and day. Every moment. When I sleep. When I wake. Every stage. Never changing. Ever. Completely and fully dependable. Safe. Trustworthy.
I hope you have met this Jesus. Hope you have been introduced. He is not about a list of rules. He is about the deepest, most fulfilled relationship ever. He satisfies the longings.
blessings,
rhonda
And He has met me there. Without conditions. With great compassion. With love. And for most all of this time, I have run to Psalm 147 and Isaiah 46. He is faithful. He does not depend on what I do to remain faithful. Everything is about Him. He has a plan. He holds me. He does not need my strength to be impressed by me. He cherishes me, carries me, rescues me. That must mean He knows I need to be carried and rescued and He is not offended by that.
I used to think that somehow it was more pleasing to be more proficient. To be more godly was to follow a certain plan. A plan can establish good habits. But, following God according to some recipe tends to lead to arrogance rather than humility. Not humiliation. He never humiliates us. He gives us dignity though He sees us in the pit. In the slime. In the mire. But the best times of my life are when I see myself there and realize that honestly, there's nothing I can really do to be any better. I go from one thing to another. I'm no worse and no better than you. We are not perfect. We have stuff. We are, without once exception, people who have issues. For all of our lives.
But, the best thing that has happened to me spiritually is to find that He is completely faithful. "they stoop and bow down together; unable to rescue the burden, they themselves go off into captivity.".............."but listen..........you whom Ihave upheld since you were conceived, (before I was born), and have carried since your birth, even to your old age and gray hairs I am he, I am he who will sustain you. I have made you and I will carry you; I will sustain you and I will rescue you."
And I wonder why. How come. I am a mess.
"To whom will you compare me or count me equal? To whom will you liken me that we may be compared?.....remember this, fix it in mind, take it to heart, you rebels. .........I am God, and there is no other; I am God, and there is none like me. I make known the end from the beginning.........my purpose will stand, and I will do all that I please."
"He heals the brokenhearted and binds up their wounds. He determines the number of the stars and calls them each by name. Great is our Lord and mighty in power; His understanding has no limit. The Lord sustains the humble.....His pleasure is not in the strength of the horse, nor his delight in the legs of a man; the Lord delights in those who fear him, who put their hope in his unfailing love. ........."
He amazes me. He is satisfied with my weakness. He wants me to see it. To know that it doesn't matter to Him or to His purposes how well equipped I think I am or how strong or how smart. He wants me to see myself clearly so that I can see Him clearly. He wants me to know that it is by His strength and power that His renown, His reputation, His plan will be accomplished and made known.
And so, I am at peace. Not rushing around trying to be a super christian. Resting. Being held. Growing. Being nurtured. Feeling His cherished breath speaking hope to my soul. Night and day. Every moment. When I sleep. When I wake. Every stage. Never changing. Ever. Completely and fully dependable. Safe. Trustworthy.
I hope you have met this Jesus. Hope you have been introduced. He is not about a list of rules. He is about the deepest, most fulfilled relationship ever. He satisfies the longings.
blessings,
rhonda
Surprises
Don't you love surprises? As a mom, my favorite surprise is probably when my kids do things unexpected.......like clean up around the house WITHOUT being begged, bribed, nagged nor chastised. Without even an eye roll or a moan. Don't get me wrong, I have great kids. But, they are kids. They are people, not machines that take in every word I said and spit out the proper and expected response.
But in those moments when one or all of them do something out of their own volition, when they self motivate and choose to do something wonderful, it practically stops my heart. I feel the deepest sense of thankfulness.
Or when you have a birthday and it seems like you will have to make your own cake......again. I remember, years ago, the first time that I could remember, I was meeting a friend at the park to let the kids play on my birthday. She brought a cake AND a homemade birthday banner to put on my car. Still brings tears to my eyes. The joy of the small and unexpected.
Now, I don't like surprises as much when it is done with a taunting, "I know something you don't know." Then I wonder. Then I worry. Then I hope that I will be appropriately "surprised."
Surprises by nature should come as a (gasp) surprise. Not to be redundant. We should experience an element of shock. Of marvel. Of amazement.
Strangely, the biggest surprises are often really small things. Like kids who cleaned up the kitchen while you were out. Or a parent who manages to find the exactly right shoes for their teen at just the right price.
Practice the element of surprise. Surprise the people around you with good things. With a clean car. Or a flower on the door. Or a baked goodie. ;) Or a card. Or a letter in the mail. Or with a book they want to read. Or a clean room. Or cooking a meal. Or cleaning up. Or a banner telling them how wonderful they are affixed to their home or car while they are gone. Or anything.
Take the time to think of ways to surprise the people who you are close to. Think of what will bring them a chuckle or a smile or a good kinda tear. And DO it. Why are you holding back? What's there to lose?
Now, remember, there are some surprises that catch us completely off guard and yet are not quite as good. Last year, well after Christmas, while cleaning behind the piano, I found a gift bag with pretty tissue paper shoved back there. I reached my hand in there excitedly since I could tell from the heft that something was inside. I thought that it must be a misplaced gift and imagined that someone was going to be really excited........only to feel something crumbly, hard and crusty. I looked in. Dog poop. One of my kids had decided that when cleaning up after the puppy it would be a good idea to hide the doggy doo so that mom wouldn't realize that it had happened so that she wouldn't be upset....ah. Quite the surprise. Not so great. But, I have to say, I will always remember it. I was stunned. In a GIFT BAG!!!
As you are going along, plan surprises. Just little things. Like saying yes. to ice cream. or going to the store. or having something special.
The best surprises are completely fitted to the person they are being given to. Unique. I remember seeing a show or a movie where the mom constantly belittles her daughter's weight. She is incessant. But, one day, the child comes home and finds a whole new wardrobe. She is delighted. Until she realizes that it's two sizes two small. A surprise with a jab. But, the kind nanny/housekeeper stays up all night and alters every outfit..........a blessed, giving, generous surprise. The one who had no money, actually gave the best gift. I love it.
blessings,
rhonda
But in those moments when one or all of them do something out of their own volition, when they self motivate and choose to do something wonderful, it practically stops my heart. I feel the deepest sense of thankfulness.
Or when you have a birthday and it seems like you will have to make your own cake......again. I remember, years ago, the first time that I could remember, I was meeting a friend at the park to let the kids play on my birthday. She brought a cake AND a homemade birthday banner to put on my car. Still brings tears to my eyes. The joy of the small and unexpected.
Now, I don't like surprises as much when it is done with a taunting, "I know something you don't know." Then I wonder. Then I worry. Then I hope that I will be appropriately "surprised."
Surprises by nature should come as a (gasp) surprise. Not to be redundant. We should experience an element of shock. Of marvel. Of amazement.
Strangely, the biggest surprises are often really small things. Like kids who cleaned up the kitchen while you were out. Or a parent who manages to find the exactly right shoes for their teen at just the right price.
Practice the element of surprise. Surprise the people around you with good things. With a clean car. Or a flower on the door. Or a baked goodie. ;) Or a card. Or a letter in the mail. Or with a book they want to read. Or a clean room. Or cooking a meal. Or cleaning up. Or a banner telling them how wonderful they are affixed to their home or car while they are gone. Or anything.
Take the time to think of ways to surprise the people who you are close to. Think of what will bring them a chuckle or a smile or a good kinda tear. And DO it. Why are you holding back? What's there to lose?
Now, remember, there are some surprises that catch us completely off guard and yet are not quite as good. Last year, well after Christmas, while cleaning behind the piano, I found a gift bag with pretty tissue paper shoved back there. I reached my hand in there excitedly since I could tell from the heft that something was inside. I thought that it must be a misplaced gift and imagined that someone was going to be really excited........only to feel something crumbly, hard and crusty. I looked in. Dog poop. One of my kids had decided that when cleaning up after the puppy it would be a good idea to hide the doggy doo so that mom wouldn't realize that it had happened so that she wouldn't be upset....ah. Quite the surprise. Not so great. But, I have to say, I will always remember it. I was stunned. In a GIFT BAG!!!
As you are going along, plan surprises. Just little things. Like saying yes. to ice cream. or going to the store. or having something special.
The best surprises are completely fitted to the person they are being given to. Unique. I remember seeing a show or a movie where the mom constantly belittles her daughter's weight. She is incessant. But, one day, the child comes home and finds a whole new wardrobe. She is delighted. Until she realizes that it's two sizes two small. A surprise with a jab. But, the kind nanny/housekeeper stays up all night and alters every outfit..........a blessed, giving, generous surprise. The one who had no money, actually gave the best gift. I love it.
blessings,
rhonda
Saturday, March 20, 2010
Things You Regret
Sitting here, at this very computer, today, I had that regret that sometimes comes. I thought it was just gas. Yes, that's what I had thought. And hey, I was alone in my room, writing and checking email. So, imagine my surprise. And instant regret. Some things seem like a good idea until afterward when there are consequences that you were not even thinking about. It changed my whole next 20 minutes. One little, seemingly innocent decision.
Life is all about choices. Sometimes they are easy and sometimes they are difficult. And while some people say "have no regrets," I am not sure that that life is possible. Because sometimes you don't know that the simplest decision will have a consequence you never imagined possible.
For instance, my mom went out to pick up supplies for the beauty school and never returned because her car was struck by a drunk driver. Her decision wasn't made based on danger or expected problems. She was just doing her job.
But there's a kind of regret that is ok to live with and the kind that isn't so good. The kind that you can live with is when your heart was kind and loving. When you were simply living. Stuff happens. All of the time. Things you can't help.
But then there's the other kind. The kind where you were being defiant or drunk or mean spirited and something bad happens. That kind of regret is hard to live with because of the guilt that goes along with it.
The thing is that the decisions made might have been exactly the same. The results might have been too. But it's livable when we have our hearts in check. When we are living in a giving, loving way.
Things happen. Unexpected and painful. One way to make it through is to determine to keep relationships a priority and try to keep things right with family and friends. We never know what is coming around the bend, but we can always make the most of the days we do have.
So enjoy life today. Enjoy who you were made to be. Full of gifts. And talents. Go for it. This is life.
blessings,
rhonda
Life is all about choices. Sometimes they are easy and sometimes they are difficult. And while some people say "have no regrets," I am not sure that that life is possible. Because sometimes you don't know that the simplest decision will have a consequence you never imagined possible.
For instance, my mom went out to pick up supplies for the beauty school and never returned because her car was struck by a drunk driver. Her decision wasn't made based on danger or expected problems. She was just doing her job.
But there's a kind of regret that is ok to live with and the kind that isn't so good. The kind that you can live with is when your heart was kind and loving. When you were simply living. Stuff happens. All of the time. Things you can't help.
But then there's the other kind. The kind where you were being defiant or drunk or mean spirited and something bad happens. That kind of regret is hard to live with because of the guilt that goes along with it.
The thing is that the decisions made might have been exactly the same. The results might have been too. But it's livable when we have our hearts in check. When we are living in a giving, loving way.
Things happen. Unexpected and painful. One way to make it through is to determine to keep relationships a priority and try to keep things right with family and friends. We never know what is coming around the bend, but we can always make the most of the days we do have.
So enjoy life today. Enjoy who you were made to be. Full of gifts. And talents. Go for it. This is life.
blessings,
rhonda
Thursday, March 18, 2010
Everybody's Gotta Have a Goal
Here stands my husband telling me about the world's fattest mom. I don't know if the conversation began because I was wiping the butter off of my face after shoving the last of some bread in my mouth. Or, maybe it was the lasagna sauce. I'm really not sure why we were having this conversation in his 10 minutes home after work and before volleyball. But, regardless of why, we were.
He was telling me the story of a woman who weighs 600 pounds. She is striving for 1000 pounds!!! Why? I can't imagine. Because she wants to be the worlds fattest mom. She has a website where you can watch her eat. She can make money that way. But why? I mean, your heart can only handle so much. She's a mom. How can she live to see her kids grow up?
I have so many questions. I really do not understand even a little bit. But, hey, everybody has to have a goal, right?
We all want to be remembered. We all want to leave a legacy. We all want to show our kids that we could accomplish our goals so that they too will strive to achieve their goals. I don't agree with her goal, but it's not my job to tell her what to do. But, she does have a goal. She does have a plan. And, she has found a way to fund her food bill. Gotta admire her grit.
blessings,
rhonda
He was telling me the story of a woman who weighs 600 pounds. She is striving for 1000 pounds!!! Why? I can't imagine. Because she wants to be the worlds fattest mom. She has a website where you can watch her eat. She can make money that way. But why? I mean, your heart can only handle so much. She's a mom. How can she live to see her kids grow up?
I have so many questions. I really do not understand even a little bit. But, hey, everybody has to have a goal, right?
We all want to be remembered. We all want to leave a legacy. We all want to show our kids that we could accomplish our goals so that they too will strive to achieve their goals. I don't agree with her goal, but it's not my job to tell her what to do. But, she does have a goal. She does have a plan. And, she has found a way to fund her food bill. Gotta admire her grit.
blessings,
rhonda
Life's A Party
Today, my cohort in crime and usual friend, was making party birds. The birds were rather homely little vintage creatures. Well, WERE is the key word in that sentence. She transformed the sad little babies into beautiful party birds. They had party hats and glitter, collaged stands and sparkly perches. What a remarkable difference she wrought with some TLC and time.
I didn't do a whole lot toward their makeover. Watch and learn. My excuse could be this cold that is taking hold in my head and behind my eyes. But, really, she is the queen of causing change in found objects. She has a knack for seeing what could be and setting about doing it. And, if it isn't turning out, she doesn't fuss, she just looks for a new way or a new look. She is patient but persistent. And each little touch adds so much.
It's like that in life. All of us have times when we feel a little homely. A little less skilled than everyone else. A little clumsy. A little chunky. A little different. But in those times, it's important that life really is a party. A celebration. Worthy of a hat and glitter. Strangely, no matter how we look or what we know how to do, once we realize that we are attending a party, our whole demeanor changes. And if we have a friend or two who add the gentle touches and some tender care, we begin to shine just like those birdies did.
I am amazed at what can happen when someone has vision and hope and the ability to stick to it even if others can't see anything beautiful....because in the end, the beauty shines forth. Just like polishing a stone.
So, do two things. First, create others who shine. Secondly, be willing to be loved on and made more beautiful over time by people in your life.
Remember..........life's a party, wear your party hat! (that is Deedee's quote.....only use it with permission.;))
blessings,
rhonda
I didn't do a whole lot toward their makeover. Watch and learn. My excuse could be this cold that is taking hold in my head and behind my eyes. But, really, she is the queen of causing change in found objects. She has a knack for seeing what could be and setting about doing it. And, if it isn't turning out, she doesn't fuss, she just looks for a new way or a new look. She is patient but persistent. And each little touch adds so much.
It's like that in life. All of us have times when we feel a little homely. A little less skilled than everyone else. A little clumsy. A little chunky. A little different. But in those times, it's important that life really is a party. A celebration. Worthy of a hat and glitter. Strangely, no matter how we look or what we know how to do, once we realize that we are attending a party, our whole demeanor changes. And if we have a friend or two who add the gentle touches and some tender care, we begin to shine just like those birdies did.
I am amazed at what can happen when someone has vision and hope and the ability to stick to it even if others can't see anything beautiful....because in the end, the beauty shines forth. Just like polishing a stone.
So, do two things. First, create others who shine. Secondly, be willing to be loved on and made more beautiful over time by people in your life.
Remember..........life's a party, wear your party hat! (that is Deedee's quote.....only use it with permission.;))
blessings,
rhonda
Tuesday, March 16, 2010
Steering Wheel
I speak frequently of my old green van. How can I help thinking of it? I have spent a lot of time in it over the years. Nearly 300,000 miles to be precise. Not to mention the sitting and waiting time. I was doing some of that this evening. Had my seat back. Eye level with the steering wheel. I looked. And looked again. Totally smooth. Black. Shiny. It used to be dimpled. I love the feeling now.
It's smooth and cool. It slips through my fingers just right when I make turns. But it took a long time and a lot of turning to get that steering wheel worn smooth. It took a long time to feel right. As a matter of fact, I was so enamored with it, I was thinking that if I ever have to give up my van I might need to keep my steering wheel as a reminder of happy times. I probably won't. Don't shudder at my strangeness yet.
But, just like life, it takes time to smooth things out. It takes time and lots of turning and even some sitting. But, one day, you look and you realize how it has all worn things into a place of beauty and comfort. Of course, in this case, the life of the van is nearly over. Maybe that's how it is for us. Maybe we don't notice the beauty until it's toward the end. I hope not.
Keep steering. Maneuvering. The miles go by fast.
blessings,
rhonda
It's smooth and cool. It slips through my fingers just right when I make turns. But it took a long time and a lot of turning to get that steering wheel worn smooth. It took a long time to feel right. As a matter of fact, I was so enamored with it, I was thinking that if I ever have to give up my van I might need to keep my steering wheel as a reminder of happy times. I probably won't. Don't shudder at my strangeness yet.
But, just like life, it takes time to smooth things out. It takes time and lots of turning and even some sitting. But, one day, you look and you realize how it has all worn things into a place of beauty and comfort. Of course, in this case, the life of the van is nearly over. Maybe that's how it is for us. Maybe we don't notice the beauty until it's toward the end. I hope not.
Keep steering. Maneuvering. The miles go by fast.
blessings,
rhonda
In the Garden
Do you remember the old song that says, "I come to the garden alone, while the dew is still on the roses, and the voice I hear as I tarry near the Son of God discloses?" It's a beautiful thing to work in or enjoy being in a garden. It's one of the single most healing things on the face of the earth.
I spent time in my garden today. It's pretty empty right now. More empty now. Leaves raked up. Bushes trimmed back. It's mostly wild flowers and herbs all mixed together. It's not a show piece, it is a part of my heart. Created out of a vision and love. There's a little patio in the center. It's not all level. It's made of flagstone. It's beautiful. Because I love it. Each year I add some things. This year I hope to work a little harder in it. I want to build an arbor at the entrance. And a privacy fence. I know that it's not a master garden. But it is where I meet the Master. It is where I can hear His words of comfort. It's where I take my tears. Can't tell you how many times I have gardened with tears streaming down my face. But they are healing tears.
The beauty of how things grow overwhelms me. Every little stalk. Every flower. Every little plant. Amazing.
Today, I needed my garden as much as it needed me. That's a good feeling.
If you are struggling. If you have no energy. If you hurt. If you are sad. If you are celebrating. Plant something. Nurture it. Watch it grow. It does wonders for the soul.
blessings,
rhonda
I spent time in my garden today. It's pretty empty right now. More empty now. Leaves raked up. Bushes trimmed back. It's mostly wild flowers and herbs all mixed together. It's not a show piece, it is a part of my heart. Created out of a vision and love. There's a little patio in the center. It's not all level. It's made of flagstone. It's beautiful. Because I love it. Each year I add some things. This year I hope to work a little harder in it. I want to build an arbor at the entrance. And a privacy fence. I know that it's not a master garden. But it is where I meet the Master. It is where I can hear His words of comfort. It's where I take my tears. Can't tell you how many times I have gardened with tears streaming down my face. But they are healing tears.
The beauty of how things grow overwhelms me. Every little stalk. Every flower. Every little plant. Amazing.
Today, I needed my garden as much as it needed me. That's a good feeling.
If you are struggling. If you have no energy. If you hurt. If you are sad. If you are celebrating. Plant something. Nurture it. Watch it grow. It does wonders for the soul.
blessings,
rhonda
Don't Get Too Comfortable
Well, as we live and grow and learn, we have to admit that things never stay the same. Good things nor bad things. But, why is it that the bad things seem to last so much longer? Oh, that's because all of our awarenesses are heightened by the pain and trauma.
But good things end too. It's the nature of the world. I struggle with this because of how I grew up. Nothing in my life has ever lasted more than a few years. I was used to change. As a matter of fact, I anticipate it. Good or bad, it's bound to change.
Family dynamics, friendships, parental relationships: they all change. Sometimes with time. Sometimes suddenly. How to you learn to be absolutely trusting while knowing that things change? How do you cope when people decide that you are less important than you were before or they outgrow you or it's just kind of over? Marriages. Friends. Siblings. They all ebb and flow. But there are times when everything rocks and shakes and moves and suddenly, after the earthquake, nothing is ever the same again.
What do you do?
First of all, remember who you hope in. He's big. He is help. He is able.
But, also, while doing that. See yourself. It's easy to feel invisible. But you know, if you see who you are and what you need, then you are not invisible. You can meet your needs. I am learning this. I have to see me. I have to care enough about me to make it through. I have to give myself credit. Even when all of the places that I wish would come to my rescue have fled or moved on. It's not over. I am still here. I still can fly. That does not negate the hurt. It just means that I have come to believe that the world is a worthwhile place and full of growing.
So, don't get too comfortable. Things might last. They might now. Cherish every single moment and don't take any forgranted. Store up memories. Keep hoping. But don't be afraid. Winter always comes. So does Spring.
Life keeps moving. It's not a spectator sport. All of us are participants. So, keep running your race with passion.
blessings,
rhonda
But good things end too. It's the nature of the world. I struggle with this because of how I grew up. Nothing in my life has ever lasted more than a few years. I was used to change. As a matter of fact, I anticipate it. Good or bad, it's bound to change.
Family dynamics, friendships, parental relationships: they all change. Sometimes with time. Sometimes suddenly. How to you learn to be absolutely trusting while knowing that things change? How do you cope when people decide that you are less important than you were before or they outgrow you or it's just kind of over? Marriages. Friends. Siblings. They all ebb and flow. But there are times when everything rocks and shakes and moves and suddenly, after the earthquake, nothing is ever the same again.
What do you do?
First of all, remember who you hope in. He's big. He is help. He is able.
But, also, while doing that. See yourself. It's easy to feel invisible. But you know, if you see who you are and what you need, then you are not invisible. You can meet your needs. I am learning this. I have to see me. I have to care enough about me to make it through. I have to give myself credit. Even when all of the places that I wish would come to my rescue have fled or moved on. It's not over. I am still here. I still can fly. That does not negate the hurt. It just means that I have come to believe that the world is a worthwhile place and full of growing.
So, don't get too comfortable. Things might last. They might now. Cherish every single moment and don't take any forgranted. Store up memories. Keep hoping. But don't be afraid. Winter always comes. So does Spring.
Life keeps moving. It's not a spectator sport. All of us are participants. So, keep running your race with passion.
blessings,
rhonda
Monday, March 15, 2010
Our Own Path
You know, I am amazed at how dumb I used to be. But not as amazed as by the knowledge that I would look just as dumb if my twenty years older self were standing here. Life is all about growing. It's about learning.
It would be nice to learn from others' mistakes. It would be nice to be able to read a manual and figure it all out. I haven't found anyone who has. Oh, I know lots of people who read self help books ad nauseum. But, I find that while they give direction, they do not keep people from making mistakes.
Each of us has to walk our very own path. We can be wise. We can try to do things right. And it helps. Living wisely is to be commended. However, we all have hurts. We all have baggage. We all have warped coping skills. And at some point, those problem parts of ourselves, catch up with us. And we have to figure out what to do.
Some people turn to drugs or alcohol or food. They try to feel the void with chemicals or not caring or yummy chocolate.
Others turn to partying and living in excess. They find release and relief in being surrounded by people who are living hard and distracted by the craziness of the moment.
Some turn to books or music. They find it easier to learn to live vicariously rather than really delving into life.
Still others, do self-destructive things like cutting or being suicidal. They find comfort in the physical pain.
And, lots of people, do many of the above.
Then there are those who hide in religion. I'm not talking about a relationship with the living God, I'm talking about rules, regulations, laws. They find their comfort in the strict structure. They find themselves able to answer life's temptations by saying no to most everything.
Some do cry out to the God of the Universe. They find Him to be full of hope and truth. But the thing that they still find is that they still have to walk the path of their lives. They just don't walk alone.
The point is that we are all faulty and all trying to get along in the world. It can be a pretty painful place. Especially for young people. Especially for people who don't have family and friends around to cheer them on and help them up when they fall down. It can be harsh. It can be easy to give up. To check out. To seek attention in any way it will come.
Speaking from the point of view of a parent, a friend, a spouse, a woman, I see ALL kinds of people hurting. Many of them are young. Many have made their own trouble. Many were neglected or treated unkindly. But, most of them, want to make things right. They want to live. They want to feel normal inside. A few that I have met do not care about healing or learning or growing. They honestly want to live in the lie. That's where they are. You can't convince them to believe otherwise. But for the ones who are seeking. Who see that they have pain and problems, I want to be their advocate.
They might turn to drugs or alternative lifestyles as ways to cope. That doesn't mean that they need your advice or condemnation. They need to SEE and EXPERIENCE that there are people who are healthier who will not look down on them but walk beside them. You might want to throw up your hands and scream, "you are being so stupid!!!" And that can be appropriate. You don't have to lie to people. You know, sometimes I know that I am most loved when I am the biggest pain in the butt and somebody says that to me. But ONLY, did you get the only?, if that same person is able to love on me and let me know that though my moment is nearly intolerable, I am not intolerable. That the action does not define me. That my falling down doesn't mean that they only see my failure.
With kids, especially as parents, we get wrapped up in seeing their failures. We can predict it. I'm not saying that you don't get help for people that you love. I'm saying that there is an attitude. I have to use the word judgement, but it will have to suffice. Judgement is used day to day. But somehow as parents we become judge and jury not only for the incident but for the whole life of the child. We behave as if who they are at 14 or 16 is who they will be.
I do tell my kids that what you practice is what you become. That habits are hard to break. If you make good habits, it makes life easier as you become an adult. It's true. If you are in the habit of rinsing your dishes, it makes dishes easier to clean and when you become an adult then your life will be just a little bit easier.
But not everyone is capable of making the decisions we want them to when we want them to. We have to BE PATIENT. We have to wait until they are ready. We have to respect that they are on their own path of growth and learning. Just as we have to walk ours and hope that people won't ditch us when we are real jerks.
Maybe if we all focused on how we are walking, where we are going, then we would be more likely to walk beside our kids and friends instead of having an attitude of superiority. Of frustration.
Take stock today. You come up short. That's because everyone does. At every age. Nobody has arrived. Each on is in transit. So have compassion. Don't give up. That doesn't mean that you can be there for every person in every circumstance. Sometimes for your own growth, you have to let others handle certain people or certain crises. But maybe inside you can develop a different attitude. One that allows and hopes for and truly believes in growth. And that each of us are doing the best we can.
Grace. Unmerited favor. Mercy. Undeserved pardon. Give them. Lavishly. And don't be afraid to receive them.
You are a combination of genetics, heritage, and culture. You have problems nobody else has. You might feel completely snowed in, rained out, or shaken. But KNOW THIS: you also have gifts, talents and love to share that nobody else has. The world needs you.
Don't give up. Though the path is rocky and painful and you keep falling down. Though you wish people would slow down. Or bring a light. Though it seems like nobody gets it. I promise. This one little thing I've learned. THINGS CHANGE. YOU will change. CIRCUMSTANCES will change.
Life takes courage. But look around you. Others need what you have to offer. Your hug. Your smile. Your ability to make pretty. Your writing. Your cleaning. Your voice. Your perspective. Your ability to make it. (that in itself gives many others a hope of making it themselves.) Your tenaciousness. Your grit. Your wisdom. Your experience. Your technological savvy. Your inventions. Your faith. Your tenderness. Your understanding.
We all grow to maturity on our own path. Our own terms. But we are actually all walking together. Side by side. Different. Different places on the road. Different weather conditions. But we all have to travel. Buddy up. The journey is long, but exciting.
blessings,
rhonda
It would be nice to learn from others' mistakes. It would be nice to be able to read a manual and figure it all out. I haven't found anyone who has. Oh, I know lots of people who read self help books ad nauseum. But, I find that while they give direction, they do not keep people from making mistakes.
Each of us has to walk our very own path. We can be wise. We can try to do things right. And it helps. Living wisely is to be commended. However, we all have hurts. We all have baggage. We all have warped coping skills. And at some point, those problem parts of ourselves, catch up with us. And we have to figure out what to do.
Some people turn to drugs or alcohol or food. They try to feel the void with chemicals or not caring or yummy chocolate.
Others turn to partying and living in excess. They find release and relief in being surrounded by people who are living hard and distracted by the craziness of the moment.
Some turn to books or music. They find it easier to learn to live vicariously rather than really delving into life.
Still others, do self-destructive things like cutting or being suicidal. They find comfort in the physical pain.
And, lots of people, do many of the above.
Then there are those who hide in religion. I'm not talking about a relationship with the living God, I'm talking about rules, regulations, laws. They find their comfort in the strict structure. They find themselves able to answer life's temptations by saying no to most everything.
Some do cry out to the God of the Universe. They find Him to be full of hope and truth. But the thing that they still find is that they still have to walk the path of their lives. They just don't walk alone.
The point is that we are all faulty and all trying to get along in the world. It can be a pretty painful place. Especially for young people. Especially for people who don't have family and friends around to cheer them on and help them up when they fall down. It can be harsh. It can be easy to give up. To check out. To seek attention in any way it will come.
Speaking from the point of view of a parent, a friend, a spouse, a woman, I see ALL kinds of people hurting. Many of them are young. Many have made their own trouble. Many were neglected or treated unkindly. But, most of them, want to make things right. They want to live. They want to feel normal inside. A few that I have met do not care about healing or learning or growing. They honestly want to live in the lie. That's where they are. You can't convince them to believe otherwise. But for the ones who are seeking. Who see that they have pain and problems, I want to be their advocate.
They might turn to drugs or alternative lifestyles as ways to cope. That doesn't mean that they need your advice or condemnation. They need to SEE and EXPERIENCE that there are people who are healthier who will not look down on them but walk beside them. You might want to throw up your hands and scream, "you are being so stupid!!!" And that can be appropriate. You don't have to lie to people. You know, sometimes I know that I am most loved when I am the biggest pain in the butt and somebody says that to me. But ONLY, did you get the only?, if that same person is able to love on me and let me know that though my moment is nearly intolerable, I am not intolerable. That the action does not define me. That my falling down doesn't mean that they only see my failure.
With kids, especially as parents, we get wrapped up in seeing their failures. We can predict it. I'm not saying that you don't get help for people that you love. I'm saying that there is an attitude. I have to use the word judgement, but it will have to suffice. Judgement is used day to day. But somehow as parents we become judge and jury not only for the incident but for the whole life of the child. We behave as if who they are at 14 or 16 is who they will be.
I do tell my kids that what you practice is what you become. That habits are hard to break. If you make good habits, it makes life easier as you become an adult. It's true. If you are in the habit of rinsing your dishes, it makes dishes easier to clean and when you become an adult then your life will be just a little bit easier.
But not everyone is capable of making the decisions we want them to when we want them to. We have to BE PATIENT. We have to wait until they are ready. We have to respect that they are on their own path of growth and learning. Just as we have to walk ours and hope that people won't ditch us when we are real jerks.
Maybe if we all focused on how we are walking, where we are going, then we would be more likely to walk beside our kids and friends instead of having an attitude of superiority. Of frustration.
Take stock today. You come up short. That's because everyone does. At every age. Nobody has arrived. Each on is in transit. So have compassion. Don't give up. That doesn't mean that you can be there for every person in every circumstance. Sometimes for your own growth, you have to let others handle certain people or certain crises. But maybe inside you can develop a different attitude. One that allows and hopes for and truly believes in growth. And that each of us are doing the best we can.
Grace. Unmerited favor. Mercy. Undeserved pardon. Give them. Lavishly. And don't be afraid to receive them.
You are a combination of genetics, heritage, and culture. You have problems nobody else has. You might feel completely snowed in, rained out, or shaken. But KNOW THIS: you also have gifts, talents and love to share that nobody else has. The world needs you.
Don't give up. Though the path is rocky and painful and you keep falling down. Though you wish people would slow down. Or bring a light. Though it seems like nobody gets it. I promise. This one little thing I've learned. THINGS CHANGE. YOU will change. CIRCUMSTANCES will change.
Life takes courage. But look around you. Others need what you have to offer. Your hug. Your smile. Your ability to make pretty. Your writing. Your cleaning. Your voice. Your perspective. Your ability to make it. (that in itself gives many others a hope of making it themselves.) Your tenaciousness. Your grit. Your wisdom. Your experience. Your technological savvy. Your inventions. Your faith. Your tenderness. Your understanding.
We all grow to maturity on our own path. Our own terms. But we are actually all walking together. Side by side. Different. Different places on the road. Different weather conditions. But we all have to travel. Buddy up. The journey is long, but exciting.
blessings,
rhonda
Friday, March 12, 2010
It's the Little Things
You know, I am not a type A personality. Nobody would think so. I do like to organize people. I do like to do things quickly and efficiently, but that's just because I like to be able to say, "I'm done," and go on to something that I actually want to do.
I peered into our microwave this morning. I hardly ever use it. I tend to heat my water on the stove and even my leftovers. However, my kids and husband are no such creatures. They use the microwave like cavemen used fire. It is a life source. But, as I mentioned, this morning, I was looking in there. I had decided to heat my tea water in a mug instead of on the stove. Honestly, I don't know why. I think I was just too lazy to lean down to get a pot to heat the water in. Imagine my horror. I had cleaned this microwave in February. It's only the middle of March. The splatters and spillage were a little repulsive. The last time I cleaned it, it was after a friend exclaimed, "it's bad, and I don't have a very high standard!" Ah, you gotta love real friends. So, to avoid such embarrassment again, I got out the cleaner and cleaned out the muck. Ick. THEN, I got to heat my tea water. Should have simply closed it and gotten out the pot to heat my water. But, the shame when company would come.......
Then, in my cleaning "frenzy", I remembered the dishwasher. No, not the outside. I do clean that. I mean that little ledge that seals it. It was nasty. I cleaned it. Even used a toothbrush to scrub around the screws that had scum residing in them. Then I started the oven to clean. I know, remarkable.
Obviously, I am not a stickler for perfection. I rather enjoy my house being generally tidy, but not so much that I feel like any movement ruins the balance of things. It was easy when I was single. Once in awhile I cleaned the bathrooms. The kitchen got wiped up when I cooked. I vaccuumed about once a month. My bedroom........well, I rarely went in there because I had this great sofa and I liked sleeping there better since my room opened onto a really dark area and it kinda' creeped me out. Having a family has been quite the eye opener.
I used to freak out when we were having company. Yelling, screaming, stressing. I don't anymore. All I care about is that we have some good food and we all sit down together. I like to sit all at one table. Yes, even when we have more than 20 people. It's not worth having a fit to have company. My house is trashed right after they all come anyway. Did I mention that most of my kids are teens? And we have a LOT of teens in the house?
But, there are some little things. I like the edges to get wiped down. I like the front of the fridge to be clean and clear. I like my bed pulled up........because it is more inviting to walk into my room. However, it doesn't have to be made perfectly. I don't like piles of laundry not because they are bad but because it simply drives me wacky not to be able to find my clothes.......or worse, my husband's or kids's clothes. I like laundry to get done as we go along.....washed, dried, folded, delivered. I hate counters full of dishes. I don't hate these things because I'm a neatie. Quite the opposite. I hate them because I am totally overwhelmed by too much cleaning to do at once. I like to run my swiffer regularly......as in once a week. I like to run a rag over the furniture about the same. I like to have the kids vacuum whenever it looks like it needs it. (we have mostly hardwood and tile). I like clean windows but that's because I like to stare outdoors when I am writing. I like straight pictures but have found no way to keep them that way in a house of teen boys.
I don't mind if it looks like we live here. I don't mind that there are blankies on the couches and chairs....we keep our house kinda cold to save money. I don't even mind that there tends to be drip marks from milk on the tables and counters. There are usually glasses everywhere......I don't like that because it takes me too long to gatgher them back together.
What I'm saying is that the little things make a difference. Taking time to do what drives you crazy or what you need to feel peaceful. But, it's not about a contest. You don't get a gold, silver or bronze medal no matter how tidy your house is. You have to live so that you feel relaxed when you are in a room. When something bothers me every time I walk into a room, or if I start avoiding a room, I know it's time to take action.
My action is sometimes to dismantle and begin again. Often it's just simply taking baby steps. Like, cleaning the ledge on the dishwasher.
In your house and in your life, find a little thing to work on each day. Do it, get it out of the way. Whether it's exercise or prayer or writing or reading or walking or whatever......you know what nags at you. Do it a little. Then go on. Quit worrying about not being neat enough or exercising enough.......what's enough? Nothing is ever as much as someone else. That's why I mention, it's not a competition. It's about growth. It's about learning who you are and what makes you who you are.
It's the little things. It's about doing them because they mean something to you. I didn't clean the edge of the dishwasher because anyone will notice. I did it because it gave me satisfaction. That is what work and play should do. They should bring you satisfaction in your soul. If they don't, take stock of what you are doing and why......perhaps you are just performing for the rest of the world. It takes courage to learn to know yourself and do things because they make you grow and feel good. Try it.
It's all about the little things.
blessings,
rhonda
I peered into our microwave this morning. I hardly ever use it. I tend to heat my water on the stove and even my leftovers. However, my kids and husband are no such creatures. They use the microwave like cavemen used fire. It is a life source. But, as I mentioned, this morning, I was looking in there. I had decided to heat my tea water in a mug instead of on the stove. Honestly, I don't know why. I think I was just too lazy to lean down to get a pot to heat the water in. Imagine my horror. I had cleaned this microwave in February. It's only the middle of March. The splatters and spillage were a little repulsive. The last time I cleaned it, it was after a friend exclaimed, "it's bad, and I don't have a very high standard!" Ah, you gotta love real friends. So, to avoid such embarrassment again, I got out the cleaner and cleaned out the muck. Ick. THEN, I got to heat my tea water. Should have simply closed it and gotten out the pot to heat my water. But, the shame when company would come.......
Then, in my cleaning "frenzy", I remembered the dishwasher. No, not the outside. I do clean that. I mean that little ledge that seals it. It was nasty. I cleaned it. Even used a toothbrush to scrub around the screws that had scum residing in them. Then I started the oven to clean. I know, remarkable.
Obviously, I am not a stickler for perfection. I rather enjoy my house being generally tidy, but not so much that I feel like any movement ruins the balance of things. It was easy when I was single. Once in awhile I cleaned the bathrooms. The kitchen got wiped up when I cooked. I vaccuumed about once a month. My bedroom........well, I rarely went in there because I had this great sofa and I liked sleeping there better since my room opened onto a really dark area and it kinda' creeped me out. Having a family has been quite the eye opener.
I used to freak out when we were having company. Yelling, screaming, stressing. I don't anymore. All I care about is that we have some good food and we all sit down together. I like to sit all at one table. Yes, even when we have more than 20 people. It's not worth having a fit to have company. My house is trashed right after they all come anyway. Did I mention that most of my kids are teens? And we have a LOT of teens in the house?
But, there are some little things. I like the edges to get wiped down. I like the front of the fridge to be clean and clear. I like my bed pulled up........because it is more inviting to walk into my room. However, it doesn't have to be made perfectly. I don't like piles of laundry not because they are bad but because it simply drives me wacky not to be able to find my clothes.......or worse, my husband's or kids's clothes. I like laundry to get done as we go along.....washed, dried, folded, delivered. I hate counters full of dishes. I don't hate these things because I'm a neatie. Quite the opposite. I hate them because I am totally overwhelmed by too much cleaning to do at once. I like to run my swiffer regularly......as in once a week. I like to run a rag over the furniture about the same. I like to have the kids vacuum whenever it looks like it needs it. (we have mostly hardwood and tile). I like clean windows but that's because I like to stare outdoors when I am writing. I like straight pictures but have found no way to keep them that way in a house of teen boys.
I don't mind if it looks like we live here. I don't mind that there are blankies on the couches and chairs....we keep our house kinda cold to save money. I don't even mind that there tends to be drip marks from milk on the tables and counters. There are usually glasses everywhere......I don't like that because it takes me too long to gatgher them back together.
What I'm saying is that the little things make a difference. Taking time to do what drives you crazy or what you need to feel peaceful. But, it's not about a contest. You don't get a gold, silver or bronze medal no matter how tidy your house is. You have to live so that you feel relaxed when you are in a room. When something bothers me every time I walk into a room, or if I start avoiding a room, I know it's time to take action.
My action is sometimes to dismantle and begin again. Often it's just simply taking baby steps. Like, cleaning the ledge on the dishwasher.
In your house and in your life, find a little thing to work on each day. Do it, get it out of the way. Whether it's exercise or prayer or writing or reading or walking or whatever......you know what nags at you. Do it a little. Then go on. Quit worrying about not being neat enough or exercising enough.......what's enough? Nothing is ever as much as someone else. That's why I mention, it's not a competition. It's about growth. It's about learning who you are and what makes you who you are.
It's the little things. It's about doing them because they mean something to you. I didn't clean the edge of the dishwasher because anyone will notice. I did it because it gave me satisfaction. That is what work and play should do. They should bring you satisfaction in your soul. If they don't, take stock of what you are doing and why......perhaps you are just performing for the rest of the world. It takes courage to learn to know yourself and do things because they make you grow and feel good. Try it.
It's all about the little things.
blessings,
rhonda
Wednesday, March 10, 2010
Mirror, mirror on the wall, tell us who has the most flaws
Whales, cows, elephants pigs. What do they all have in common? They are the animals that women frequently refer to themselves as. I am as big as an elephant. I look like a whale in that suit. Often the term is "beached whale"......as if that is worse than a whale in the ocean? I eat like a pig when I'm having PMS. She's such a cow. I'm not sure if it's just our culture or not. Not sure what got us to thinking that we should constantly ridicule ourselves. Saying nice things shouldn't just be about other people. Being positive and kind should start toward yourself.
If you can't love you, how can you really love the people around you? If you are constantly berating yourself and tearing yourself down then won't it stand to reason that in your mind you are doing the same to the people around you?
Now, I'm not discounting that bloated nasty feeling that comes to all women until they blessedly have made it to the other side of menopause. But do we really want to spend 2/3's to 3/4 's of our lives belittling ourselves for something we can't really change? Although, if you've never tried pamprin......:) Or that huge feeling that comes when you look in the mirror when you are 8 months pregnant and it's not just the belly. I mean, really, I gained 50+ pounds with each kid. Sure, they were big babies........but not record winners. So, it wasn't all in my belly.
I know what it feels like when the jeans won't quite fit right around the belly....and when you get them done up, the belly overflows. I know how it is when your arms seem a little less firm. Ok, that's definitely an understatement. And the bosom doesn't quite rise and shine. Truly, I get it. I know how it is to try on clothes that accentuate the number of wrinkles around the middle, or on the thighs. I know how getting the biggest zit in the world makes you feel self conscious.
But, really, are we so shallow? I think that we are, but not by choice. I think that we have grown up in a culture where we make excuses and jokes to make ourselves feel better in an environment where "perfection" is unattainable naturally. Symmetry is not natural. Most bodies are not completely symmetrical. Balance isn't even the norm. Large rears do not always get compensated with large busts. Or vice versa. Long legs don't mean lean torso. Pretty hands don't mean pretty legs. The thing is that everyone has good qualities. But nobody is perfect.
That's how it is in every aspect of life, so why shouldn't it be true of our physical bodies?
It comes very hard to me when I hear the girls talking about other teen aged girls. Or about themselves. They are being trained wrong. By us. Who do not embrace the beauty of who we are and instead belittle our crooked nose and gray hair?
I'm not saying forego exercise or sit around in your curlers and burp. I'm not suggesting a ban of showering or make up or finger nail filing. I'm simply noting that we bad mouth ourselves too much. And other people hear what is wrong with them every time we do it. When I say, "I'm just fat as a pig," the woman nearby is immediately taking stock of her body. When I bemoan how my toes look or my eyebrows, every other woman is suddenly conscious of her physical frailties.
I like being around women who like who they are. Oh, I don't mean that they are unaware that they could use a walk or something, but they embrace the body that they have been given and aren't ashamed of it.
It's nearing swim suit season, you know. Just hover around the dressing rooms and have a good laugh. I'll probably be in one of them describing how my rear doesn't fill out the size of suit that I need to accommodate my belly. But really, does it matter? The most beautiful women are the ones who are wearing the suit anyway and enjoying the beach or pool with others. Who are courageous ones that fight against the societal garbage. The most beautiful women are the ones who can talk about bodily downfalls, but not berate themselves. The most beautiful women are not whining and complaining but laughing, loving and enjoying each and every moment. Strangely, how often do you notice another person's flaws? Especially when you are not noticing your own. When you are noticing your own, you are busy comparing to see how you measure up. Get rid of the measuring stick.
You are beautiful. You are one of a kind. You have birth marks and beauty marks. You have eyes that are close together or far apart. You have skin that is not clear and you are in your 40's. You have big feet and are only 5'2". It really doesn't matter, sweetie. You are unique. You have gifts and draws that nobody else has. Find those. Employ those. Enjoy those. Funny, while you are busy enjoying, you will become increasingly more beautiful.
Give a gift to those young women coming behind you. Share the good. See yourself through eyes that are thankful. Eyes that know what is really important. Laugh a lot. Have fun. Cuz no matter how good you look at any age........just give it 20 years. ;0.
blessings,
rhonda
If you can't love you, how can you really love the people around you? If you are constantly berating yourself and tearing yourself down then won't it stand to reason that in your mind you are doing the same to the people around you?
Now, I'm not discounting that bloated nasty feeling that comes to all women until they blessedly have made it to the other side of menopause. But do we really want to spend 2/3's to 3/4 's of our lives belittling ourselves for something we can't really change? Although, if you've never tried pamprin......:) Or that huge feeling that comes when you look in the mirror when you are 8 months pregnant and it's not just the belly. I mean, really, I gained 50+ pounds with each kid. Sure, they were big babies........but not record winners. So, it wasn't all in my belly.
I know what it feels like when the jeans won't quite fit right around the belly....and when you get them done up, the belly overflows. I know how it is when your arms seem a little less firm. Ok, that's definitely an understatement. And the bosom doesn't quite rise and shine. Truly, I get it. I know how it is to try on clothes that accentuate the number of wrinkles around the middle, or on the thighs. I know how getting the biggest zit in the world makes you feel self conscious.
But, really, are we so shallow? I think that we are, but not by choice. I think that we have grown up in a culture where we make excuses and jokes to make ourselves feel better in an environment where "perfection" is unattainable naturally. Symmetry is not natural. Most bodies are not completely symmetrical. Balance isn't even the norm. Large rears do not always get compensated with large busts. Or vice versa. Long legs don't mean lean torso. Pretty hands don't mean pretty legs. The thing is that everyone has good qualities. But nobody is perfect.
That's how it is in every aspect of life, so why shouldn't it be true of our physical bodies?
It comes very hard to me when I hear the girls talking about other teen aged girls. Or about themselves. They are being trained wrong. By us. Who do not embrace the beauty of who we are and instead belittle our crooked nose and gray hair?
I'm not saying forego exercise or sit around in your curlers and burp. I'm not suggesting a ban of showering or make up or finger nail filing. I'm simply noting that we bad mouth ourselves too much. And other people hear what is wrong with them every time we do it. When I say, "I'm just fat as a pig," the woman nearby is immediately taking stock of her body. When I bemoan how my toes look or my eyebrows, every other woman is suddenly conscious of her physical frailties.
I like being around women who like who they are. Oh, I don't mean that they are unaware that they could use a walk or something, but they embrace the body that they have been given and aren't ashamed of it.
It's nearing swim suit season, you know. Just hover around the dressing rooms and have a good laugh. I'll probably be in one of them describing how my rear doesn't fill out the size of suit that I need to accommodate my belly. But really, does it matter? The most beautiful women are the ones who are wearing the suit anyway and enjoying the beach or pool with others. Who are courageous ones that fight against the societal garbage. The most beautiful women are the ones who can talk about bodily downfalls, but not berate themselves. The most beautiful women are not whining and complaining but laughing, loving and enjoying each and every moment. Strangely, how often do you notice another person's flaws? Especially when you are not noticing your own. When you are noticing your own, you are busy comparing to see how you measure up. Get rid of the measuring stick.
You are beautiful. You are one of a kind. You have birth marks and beauty marks. You have eyes that are close together or far apart. You have skin that is not clear and you are in your 40's. You have big feet and are only 5'2". It really doesn't matter, sweetie. You are unique. You have gifts and draws that nobody else has. Find those. Employ those. Enjoy those. Funny, while you are busy enjoying, you will become increasingly more beautiful.
Give a gift to those young women coming behind you. Share the good. See yourself through eyes that are thankful. Eyes that know what is really important. Laugh a lot. Have fun. Cuz no matter how good you look at any age........just give it 20 years. ;0.
blessings,
rhonda
Cooking
I really do like to cook. Well, except for when it's stressful and everyone is saying, "mom, what's for dinner." That's probably why I generally start in the morning. I guess that's as good a reason as any. Right now I have chili cooking from scratch. You know, not canned beans and such. It smells good so far.
I'm also making pork chops today with taters and gravy and some veggie. Maybe I should make rolls? I think I should. Yes, definitely.
Cooking makes sense in a world where other things don't always make sense. When you cook, certain things go togther, certain textures and spices and flavors. It's not really hard. It's fun. And ever so often it's fun to throw in the unexpected thing. Sweet in the spicy. Cooking is a lot like life. I think that it is my cold weather counter part to gardening.
What do you do that releases your stress? I paint. I cook. I read. I write. And I am learning that there are certain ways that I am wired that other people are not. I have spent an awful lot of years trying to be re-wired. It just doesn't work. I don't have the ability to make myself into something new. I came with certain things that are unchangeable on the inside. I can cover them up or try to live differently, but in the end, I am miserable. That's how it works with passions, dreams, hopes and personality. Those things don't really change. They morph through time.......like the cloud I saw that change from a plane, to a sphinx, to a rabbit, to a dolphin all in the time I sat at a stoplight. But, it was still the same cloud. It looked different, but it had the same purpose it had before.
People are like that. At least, I am. Deep inside we are something. Lots of things, usually. Strangely almost everyone spends most of their childhood and adulthood learning to be like everyone else. Not a good thing in my view. It makes for a rather bland, boring, humdrum world. It also, and this is important for you to hear.......makes unhappy, unkind, mean people. When people try to be what they are not, it wears on them. Body and mind. It's never ending. There's never down time. They know that they are always one step away from not being what is expected because they have to be on high alert all of the time.
I know. I've lived like this. It's not satisfying. It robs you. It steals from those who know you. I know who I am now. I also know who I am not. It doesn't mean to just say, I'm selfish, so too bad. Those aren't the things I'm talking about. That's more of a learned thing. I'm talking about what you are deep inside. The place where it's hard to label or even see sometimes. To get to the point where you can know yourself is important.
You might ask, "how can I do that?" You might be thinking how miserable you have been. But you haven't been able to put your finger on it. You might suffer from depression. Sometimes it comes from trying to be what you are not. From pushing so hard all of the time to be what others want from you. If you want to know you, do two things. Find time to be quiet. Find time to pray.
If you don't know how to pray, just think about how you talk to your friends and talk to God. In time, it will get to be a habit and a blessing. He knows you best. He likes to hear from you. He likes to answer your questions. And, He made you, so He longs to do whatever it takes to find who you really are and have you live that way.
It takes time. Don't give up. Don't get frustrated. Enjoy learning who you are and what you were made to be and do each step of your life. It grows and changes as you grow and change. But first, you have to know what kind of ingredients are in there.
blessings,
rhonda
I'm also making pork chops today with taters and gravy and some veggie. Maybe I should make rolls? I think I should. Yes, definitely.
Cooking makes sense in a world where other things don't always make sense. When you cook, certain things go togther, certain textures and spices and flavors. It's not really hard. It's fun. And ever so often it's fun to throw in the unexpected thing. Sweet in the spicy. Cooking is a lot like life. I think that it is my cold weather counter part to gardening.
What do you do that releases your stress? I paint. I cook. I read. I write. And I am learning that there are certain ways that I am wired that other people are not. I have spent an awful lot of years trying to be re-wired. It just doesn't work. I don't have the ability to make myself into something new. I came with certain things that are unchangeable on the inside. I can cover them up or try to live differently, but in the end, I am miserable. That's how it works with passions, dreams, hopes and personality. Those things don't really change. They morph through time.......like the cloud I saw that change from a plane, to a sphinx, to a rabbit, to a dolphin all in the time I sat at a stoplight. But, it was still the same cloud. It looked different, but it had the same purpose it had before.
People are like that. At least, I am. Deep inside we are something. Lots of things, usually. Strangely almost everyone spends most of their childhood and adulthood learning to be like everyone else. Not a good thing in my view. It makes for a rather bland, boring, humdrum world. It also, and this is important for you to hear.......makes unhappy, unkind, mean people. When people try to be what they are not, it wears on them. Body and mind. It's never ending. There's never down time. They know that they are always one step away from not being what is expected because they have to be on high alert all of the time.
I know. I've lived like this. It's not satisfying. It robs you. It steals from those who know you. I know who I am now. I also know who I am not. It doesn't mean to just say, I'm selfish, so too bad. Those aren't the things I'm talking about. That's more of a learned thing. I'm talking about what you are deep inside. The place where it's hard to label or even see sometimes. To get to the point where you can know yourself is important.
You might ask, "how can I do that?" You might be thinking how miserable you have been. But you haven't been able to put your finger on it. You might suffer from depression. Sometimes it comes from trying to be what you are not. From pushing so hard all of the time to be what others want from you. If you want to know you, do two things. Find time to be quiet. Find time to pray.
If you don't know how to pray, just think about how you talk to your friends and talk to God. In time, it will get to be a habit and a blessing. He knows you best. He likes to hear from you. He likes to answer your questions. And, He made you, so He longs to do whatever it takes to find who you really are and have you live that way.
It takes time. Don't give up. Don't get frustrated. Enjoy learning who you are and what you were made to be and do each step of your life. It grows and changes as you grow and change. But first, you have to know what kind of ingredients are in there.
blessings,
rhonda
When I Don't Understand
Life is not how I would make it. It seems like if you try hard, have kindness and love then things should go well and if you are a real jerk, then things should go badly. That seems fair. It seems just. But the thing is that none of us are altruistic. Some of us look more like it than others, but we all have our own "evilness". Ha, I liked that word. Made me laugh.
But still, it seems like sometimes life is just simply not fair. I know I sound like I'm four, but it's true. I see some people who put in no effort, give nothing back, are completely out for themselves, are terrible parents, and they get the perks. And, conversely, I see people who give everything, work hard, love their kids, and they get nada.
It hurts. It is painful to the spleen. It's like everything is all wrong. And I question. And I worry. And I fret. Ha. Thanks for that word, Deedee. I fret. I want to make it all ok. I want people to have what they need.
But here's the other thing that I have noticed in my older age. This age where I fret less and believe more. Even when seemingly good people lose their jobs, lose their homes, lose their marriages or their savings, they stay good people. They are who they are. And that makes life good. Even in the midst of the ickiness. The unfairness. The in equities. They have their integrity. They have relationships. They have the knowledge that they did right.
Doing right is not looked well upon in our culture. It's more about success. What I'm learning is that sometimes when I do the right thing it doesn't end with more money in my pocket. Sometimes it means that some people are really mean to me. Sometimes I get hurt. But, in this little harbor deep in my soul, I still think, "it was worth it."
Sometimes it's just worth not having good stuff in order to do the right thing. You sleep better. You can look your children in the eye.
And, it makes you look to the One who will provide the stuff you need. I mean, really, have I ever truly gone without what I really need? I have food. I have shelter. I have water. And, I might add, so much more. Peace. Hope. Faithful companions. Joyous memories. I am abundantly rich in what fills me up.
I don't understand how the world really works. But when I don't, I just trust the One who does and keep on walking. Except for when I fall down crying. Then I just wait until He picks me back up and we keep on going.
blessings,
rhonda
But still, it seems like sometimes life is just simply not fair. I know I sound like I'm four, but it's true. I see some people who put in no effort, give nothing back, are completely out for themselves, are terrible parents, and they get the perks. And, conversely, I see people who give everything, work hard, love their kids, and they get nada.
It hurts. It is painful to the spleen. It's like everything is all wrong. And I question. And I worry. And I fret. Ha. Thanks for that word, Deedee. I fret. I want to make it all ok. I want people to have what they need.
But here's the other thing that I have noticed in my older age. This age where I fret less and believe more. Even when seemingly good people lose their jobs, lose their homes, lose their marriages or their savings, they stay good people. They are who they are. And that makes life good. Even in the midst of the ickiness. The unfairness. The in equities. They have their integrity. They have relationships. They have the knowledge that they did right.
Doing right is not looked well upon in our culture. It's more about success. What I'm learning is that sometimes when I do the right thing it doesn't end with more money in my pocket. Sometimes it means that some people are really mean to me. Sometimes I get hurt. But, in this little harbor deep in my soul, I still think, "it was worth it."
Sometimes it's just worth not having good stuff in order to do the right thing. You sleep better. You can look your children in the eye.
And, it makes you look to the One who will provide the stuff you need. I mean, really, have I ever truly gone without what I really need? I have food. I have shelter. I have water. And, I might add, so much more. Peace. Hope. Faithful companions. Joyous memories. I am abundantly rich in what fills me up.
I don't understand how the world really works. But when I don't, I just trust the One who does and keep on walking. Except for when I fall down crying. Then I just wait until He picks me back up and we keep on going.
blessings,
rhonda
Tuesday, March 9, 2010
Thankful
Don't you just love when a child remembers to say thank you without being told. Especially if it's your child. Especially if it's said to someone else. It makes me all warm inside.
Do you remember how long it takes to teach a child to say thank you? I think I still have the tapes I made around here somewhere......"say thank you, say thank you, say thank you. what do you say? say thank you........."
It is not an easy task. We are not by our very natures thankful. We have to cultivate thankfulness. Generally, like children, we are looking for what we can do, have, achieve, or beg for next. "Got that, now on to the next conquest." There is very little stopping to savor and be thankful for what we already have.
I think it's amusing when my children have said things like, "I'm thankful that you are going to take us to Dairy Queen." Of course, it's amusing because it hasn't been offered, it is being used as a question.
I really like it when they remember something from years before and say thank you. It's really a blessing to hear, "thank you for taking me to Disney World. Do you remember........" from my kids though the trip was long ago.
Remaining thankful. Storing up thankfulness in our hearts. Nurturing it until it grows and others can see it. Deedee's parents are good examples of showing thankfulness. They tell people thank you for what they appreciate at the time of the action. And then, seriously, at random times in the future, when it comes to their memory again, they share their thankful feelings again.
Maybe that it the attitude I am talking about. It's not a quick, "thanks." It's treasuring the act or the gift or the moment deep inside and bringing it out now and again to admire it anew.
It sure feels good when someone is thankful for something that I had forgotten about. I think that we should strive to learn this skill.
It's spring nearly........along with your flowers and veggies, commit to cultivating thankfulness.
blessings,
rhonda
Do you remember how long it takes to teach a child to say thank you? I think I still have the tapes I made around here somewhere......"say thank you, say thank you, say thank you. what do you say? say thank you........."
It is not an easy task. We are not by our very natures thankful. We have to cultivate thankfulness. Generally, like children, we are looking for what we can do, have, achieve, or beg for next. "Got that, now on to the next conquest." There is very little stopping to savor and be thankful for what we already have.
I think it's amusing when my children have said things like, "I'm thankful that you are going to take us to Dairy Queen." Of course, it's amusing because it hasn't been offered, it is being used as a question.
I really like it when they remember something from years before and say thank you. It's really a blessing to hear, "thank you for taking me to Disney World. Do you remember........" from my kids though the trip was long ago.
Remaining thankful. Storing up thankfulness in our hearts. Nurturing it until it grows and others can see it. Deedee's parents are good examples of showing thankfulness. They tell people thank you for what they appreciate at the time of the action. And then, seriously, at random times in the future, when it comes to their memory again, they share their thankful feelings again.
Maybe that it the attitude I am talking about. It's not a quick, "thanks." It's treasuring the act or the gift or the moment deep inside and bringing it out now and again to admire it anew.
It sure feels good when someone is thankful for something that I had forgotten about. I think that we should strive to learn this skill.
It's spring nearly........along with your flowers and veggies, commit to cultivating thankfulness.
blessings,
rhonda
Monday, March 8, 2010
Best of Friends
Whether it was for a week on a beach vacation or someone you've known your entire life, I am interested in hearing about your best friends. About what made them your best friend/s. I tell you about my friends. How they hold me up. Care for me. Let me lean.
What about you? What constitutes a best friend? What memories do you have? How did that friendship change your life?
There can be many best friends of many different sorts. When we owned the shop, I ran across a book about friends being different flowers. Each the best for different seasons and different reasons. That makes a lot of sense. And then there were those lifetime friends too. (I think that they were roses. :))
Encourage one another with stories of good friends and their part in your life......maybe it will spur us on to be those kinds of friends to others.
blessings,
rhonda
What about you? What constitutes a best friend? What memories do you have? How did that friendship change your life?
There can be many best friends of many different sorts. When we owned the shop, I ran across a book about friends being different flowers. Each the best for different seasons and different reasons. That makes a lot of sense. And then there were those lifetime friends too. (I think that they were roses. :))
Encourage one another with stories of good friends and their part in your life......maybe it will spur us on to be those kinds of friends to others.
blessings,
rhonda
A Good Word
I am a word person. Love to write. Love how words look. Love how they feel on the tongue. Love to make up new words. Love repeating childish words from days gone by. Words have power. Not the kind of power to rule the world. The kind of power that changes a life. Changes a day.
Words let an ordinary being do extraordinary things.
As I have mentioned before, I suffer from not feeling acceptable. I listen to a lot of inaccurate talk and try to change, mold, morph into being what is desired. It's not effective. As a matter of fact, it is detrimental. If I carve off parts of who I am, eventually I am nobody. I am gone from my own life. To be present in my own life, I have to be the uniquely crafted, gifted, one of a kind person that I was made to be. I am learning, but I still have a lot of growing up to do. I internalize that talk from others. I believe it even though I know it's bull****. I KNOW it. I know what is true, I am a grown up. Yet, I believe the untruths spoken of me. I believe the worst things that people think of me. That I'm lazy. Or unattractive. Or fat. Or selfish. Or mean. Or unproductive. Or a spendthrift. I don't just believe it, I suck it deep down inside and start trying to pretend that I'm the other thing.......you know, the good thing. I try to be whatever it is that will warrant love and acceptance.
I know it doesn't work. You know it too. But we all do it. Because we all want to be loved. But love that comes from having to fake it is not love at all. It's maybe commitment. Maybe it's convenience. Maybe it's fear of being alone. But true, real, genuine, fulfilling love is the kind that hears and sees and knows exactly who and what you are and doesn't flinch. It doesn't want the person to change in order to keep loving. It just keeps on walking beside. Through the mistakes, the joys, the successes, the pains, the excesses, the beauty and the beast. It sees. It hears. Deeper than the performing, the who of the person is revealed. It's rare. Unusual. Like fibndibg a perfect shell on a crowded beach.
But usually, that's not how life is. We are bombarded from every situation about how we should be, look, smell, feel, work, rest, spend, save, play........everything. And we buy into it. We try so hard. Scaling the nearly smooth wall. Trying to hold on. Losing our grip. Not able to be who we aren't.
But then, in the midst, we hear the good word. The word that says, "I like who you are." "I'm glad to be your friend." "You are worth it." And just a little bit of good can dispel the bad talk. The pain. Not fake good words. Not insincere good words. Real words. From a real person. Who really does care. I can't tell you how to get those words, but I can encourage you to be a giver of those words. Tell the friends in your life that they are valuable and why. Tell them how you feel. You just don't know, you might save their life. I don't mean suicide, though that is prevalent. I mean that you might save them from losing the life that they are supposed to live by pretending to be someone or something they are not.
It happened for me today. I was down for the count. Listening, internalizing, digesting and regurgitating the bad talk. Had it on loop play in my brain. It was all bedded down in my heart. And then the good word, "don't listen to that talk. you are loved for who you are."
And you know what? The whole day became different. I worked and visited and was folding a load of laundry when I realized.........a good word changed my life. It gave me back my life.
I love the power of words.
Be a good word.
blessings,
rhonda
Words let an ordinary being do extraordinary things.
As I have mentioned before, I suffer from not feeling acceptable. I listen to a lot of inaccurate talk and try to change, mold, morph into being what is desired. It's not effective. As a matter of fact, it is detrimental. If I carve off parts of who I am, eventually I am nobody. I am gone from my own life. To be present in my own life, I have to be the uniquely crafted, gifted, one of a kind person that I was made to be. I am learning, but I still have a lot of growing up to do. I internalize that talk from others. I believe it even though I know it's bull****. I KNOW it. I know what is true, I am a grown up. Yet, I believe the untruths spoken of me. I believe the worst things that people think of me. That I'm lazy. Or unattractive. Or fat. Or selfish. Or mean. Or unproductive. Or a spendthrift. I don't just believe it, I suck it deep down inside and start trying to pretend that I'm the other thing.......you know, the good thing. I try to be whatever it is that will warrant love and acceptance.
I know it doesn't work. You know it too. But we all do it. Because we all want to be loved. But love that comes from having to fake it is not love at all. It's maybe commitment. Maybe it's convenience. Maybe it's fear of being alone. But true, real, genuine, fulfilling love is the kind that hears and sees and knows exactly who and what you are and doesn't flinch. It doesn't want the person to change in order to keep loving. It just keeps on walking beside. Through the mistakes, the joys, the successes, the pains, the excesses, the beauty and the beast. It sees. It hears. Deeper than the performing, the who of the person is revealed. It's rare. Unusual. Like fibndibg a perfect shell on a crowded beach.
But usually, that's not how life is. We are bombarded from every situation about how we should be, look, smell, feel, work, rest, spend, save, play........everything. And we buy into it. We try so hard. Scaling the nearly smooth wall. Trying to hold on. Losing our grip. Not able to be who we aren't.
But then, in the midst, we hear the good word. The word that says, "I like who you are." "I'm glad to be your friend." "You are worth it." And just a little bit of good can dispel the bad talk. The pain. Not fake good words. Not insincere good words. Real words. From a real person. Who really does care. I can't tell you how to get those words, but I can encourage you to be a giver of those words. Tell the friends in your life that they are valuable and why. Tell them how you feel. You just don't know, you might save their life. I don't mean suicide, though that is prevalent. I mean that you might save them from losing the life that they are supposed to live by pretending to be someone or something they are not.
It happened for me today. I was down for the count. Listening, internalizing, digesting and regurgitating the bad talk. Had it on loop play in my brain. It was all bedded down in my heart. And then the good word, "don't listen to that talk. you are loved for who you are."
And you know what? The whole day became different. I worked and visited and was folding a load of laundry when I realized.........a good word changed my life. It gave me back my life.
I love the power of words.
Be a good word.
blessings,
rhonda
Sunday, March 7, 2010
A Cloudy Day
I like rain. And clouds. And sun. And snow. And cold. And hot. I like waking up and seeing what the day holds. I love when my husband or son says, "there's a 20% chance of snow today," and I get to respond, "nope, there's a hundred percent......it's snowing right now." I never watch the weather. I do look it up if I'm traveling. I kind of like the surprise for each day. It's like you never know what you are going to get. Of course, as I mentioned, my son and husband like to "read ahead" and see what is predicted.
I can honestly say that I revel and am amazed by the weather. Hearing the rain on the roof wakes me with a start and I smile. Seeing that special glow in the night when the moon is out and the snow has fallen is marvelous. Feeling the sun as it peeks in my bedroom window is always a pleasant surprise these days.
The only weather condition that I kind of hate is wind. Now, put me on a beach and wind is ok. But in general, I don't like it. It makes me feel beaten and unkempt and just generally kind of bitter.
Life is a lot like the weather for me. Honestly, I like all different people and circumstances. I enjoy learning what people have lived thorugh and what they believe. But, there's one thing that just makes me feel just like the wind. It seems simple. It seems like it doesn't matter. But for me, it is hard. It saps my strength. It zaps my enthusiasm. It's performance based relationships. I see them all of the time. Kids trying so hard to make their parents really see them and love them that they will do anything. Women trying to find friends who will like them though they are not able to do the craft at MOPS. It's like the whole world is full of people trying to make other people be just like them. I like the uniqueness of people. I think that love is when you know how different you are and you figure it out anyway.
But performance is just like the wind. I don't live well in it for very long. I chafe. I feel blistered. My lips get dry. It depresses me to my very center.
So, on this cloudy day I'm remembering who I am. That it is not defined by how people expect me to perform, but by the God who made me. The God who wrote my manual and knows all of my little quirks. And did I mention, He is not offended nor disappointed in me. He is like the sun and the rain and the snow are to the weather.........I never know exactly what exciting thing He is going to do, but I know I'm going to like it if I keep my heart open.
So, if you have been out in the wind too long and you are thinking that you are going to dry up and blow away, try talking to the One who makes the weather. Even more, try listening to who He says you are. You are His workmanship, His poetry, His artwork. You are very treasured.
blessings,
rhonda
I can honestly say that I revel and am amazed by the weather. Hearing the rain on the roof wakes me with a start and I smile. Seeing that special glow in the night when the moon is out and the snow has fallen is marvelous. Feeling the sun as it peeks in my bedroom window is always a pleasant surprise these days.
The only weather condition that I kind of hate is wind. Now, put me on a beach and wind is ok. But in general, I don't like it. It makes me feel beaten and unkempt and just generally kind of bitter.
Life is a lot like the weather for me. Honestly, I like all different people and circumstances. I enjoy learning what people have lived thorugh and what they believe. But, there's one thing that just makes me feel just like the wind. It seems simple. It seems like it doesn't matter. But for me, it is hard. It saps my strength. It zaps my enthusiasm. It's performance based relationships. I see them all of the time. Kids trying so hard to make their parents really see them and love them that they will do anything. Women trying to find friends who will like them though they are not able to do the craft at MOPS. It's like the whole world is full of people trying to make other people be just like them. I like the uniqueness of people. I think that love is when you know how different you are and you figure it out anyway.
But performance is just like the wind. I don't live well in it for very long. I chafe. I feel blistered. My lips get dry. It depresses me to my very center.
So, on this cloudy day I'm remembering who I am. That it is not defined by how people expect me to perform, but by the God who made me. The God who wrote my manual and knows all of my little quirks. And did I mention, He is not offended nor disappointed in me. He is like the sun and the rain and the snow are to the weather.........I never know exactly what exciting thing He is going to do, but I know I'm going to like it if I keep my heart open.
So, if you have been out in the wind too long and you are thinking that you are going to dry up and blow away, try talking to the One who makes the weather. Even more, try listening to who He says you are. You are His workmanship, His poetry, His artwork. You are very treasured.
blessings,
rhonda
The Greatest Gift
Gift giving comes pretty easily to me. I like to think about what people like, their style, their hearts. I find satisfaction in the right gift. It's not the price or anything, it's the importance. The smile it will bring. It's fun.
But I realized that the greatest gift that I give is when I write for someone. It's a huge gift because it puts who I am on the line. It makes me vulnerable. If it comes off as unimportant, it is much more of a disappointment than a purchased gift not being quite right. For some of you, that kind of gift comes from giving art or a piece of furniture. Maybe you make quilts or afghans. Those gifts of hand and heart are special. They are treasures because they are a piece of you. Alas, sometimes these great gifts fall on hard times. People tend to not know the import of the gift. The receiver often seems to forget that they got the gift at all. It's lost in the busyness of the "real" gifts.
But through time, through generations, through a lifetime, it turns out that the gifts that are the greatest treasures are those that come from the mind and creation of the giver.
"My mother made me this blanket when I was 6," is heard, but rarely do you hear, " I got this electronic device from my parents when I was 6." The electronic device is out of date and gone. Useless. But the blanket made by your mother grows only more special. Even through the generations.
But giving of your talents is risky. You can be hurt. Honestly, I don't think there has ever been a person who knows what it costs me to write something just for them. To make something is a huge commitment because I don't have a lot of natural artistic ability.
Those of you who cook for your families every day know about this feeling. The wanting to please. The loving. The dedication. Sometimes it is met with praise. Sometimes it is ridiculed. Sometimes it is taken forgranted.
Whether you construct furniture, whittle walking sticks, craft music or poetry, paint portraits or landscapes, or sew perfectly, it is always difficult to give a gift that comes from yourself. But I challenge you to keep trying. Nobody will probably applaud the gift. They probably won't even recognize what it cost of yourself. But someday, they will be showing their children. Or their grandchildren. A gift of yourself is a part of your legacy to the world. Even if nobody really gets it. It is a piece of you that continues on after you are gone.
As my writing. It's nothing that keeps me gainfully employed or makes people ooh and aah if I do a "piece" just for them. Frankly, generally when I write, I find it tossed aside. I have actually been known to pick it up and take it back or toss it when I've found it months later. I know, tacky. But maybe someday, just maybe, if I don't rescue it and take it home or throw it away, maybe someone will pull it out and read it at a time when I'm not around anymore and maybe they will remember a bit of who I was. Maybe it will make them smile. Or cry. Or feel hopeful. Maybe it will just make them feel a little bit understood. I hope so.
So, keep giving of yourself. Even if it's hard. Everyone has some talent to offer. If it's cooking......well, it won't be around for posterity. Well, unless we eat too much of it and then it will show up on our posteriors. But most things have the possibility of being around in years. To be talked about. Stroked. Loved. Remembered.
I know that those are my favorite things.
blessings,
rhonda
But I realized that the greatest gift that I give is when I write for someone. It's a huge gift because it puts who I am on the line. It makes me vulnerable. If it comes off as unimportant, it is much more of a disappointment than a purchased gift not being quite right. For some of you, that kind of gift comes from giving art or a piece of furniture. Maybe you make quilts or afghans. Those gifts of hand and heart are special. They are treasures because they are a piece of you. Alas, sometimes these great gifts fall on hard times. People tend to not know the import of the gift. The receiver often seems to forget that they got the gift at all. It's lost in the busyness of the "real" gifts.
But through time, through generations, through a lifetime, it turns out that the gifts that are the greatest treasures are those that come from the mind and creation of the giver.
"My mother made me this blanket when I was 6," is heard, but rarely do you hear, " I got this electronic device from my parents when I was 6." The electronic device is out of date and gone. Useless. But the blanket made by your mother grows only more special. Even through the generations.
But giving of your talents is risky. You can be hurt. Honestly, I don't think there has ever been a person who knows what it costs me to write something just for them. To make something is a huge commitment because I don't have a lot of natural artistic ability.
Those of you who cook for your families every day know about this feeling. The wanting to please. The loving. The dedication. Sometimes it is met with praise. Sometimes it is ridiculed. Sometimes it is taken forgranted.
Whether you construct furniture, whittle walking sticks, craft music or poetry, paint portraits or landscapes, or sew perfectly, it is always difficult to give a gift that comes from yourself. But I challenge you to keep trying. Nobody will probably applaud the gift. They probably won't even recognize what it cost of yourself. But someday, they will be showing their children. Or their grandchildren. A gift of yourself is a part of your legacy to the world. Even if nobody really gets it. It is a piece of you that continues on after you are gone.
As my writing. It's nothing that keeps me gainfully employed or makes people ooh and aah if I do a "piece" just for them. Frankly, generally when I write, I find it tossed aside. I have actually been known to pick it up and take it back or toss it when I've found it months later. I know, tacky. But maybe someday, just maybe, if I don't rescue it and take it home or throw it away, maybe someone will pull it out and read it at a time when I'm not around anymore and maybe they will remember a bit of who I was. Maybe it will make them smile. Or cry. Or feel hopeful. Maybe it will just make them feel a little bit understood. I hope so.
So, keep giving of yourself. Even if it's hard. Everyone has some talent to offer. If it's cooking......well, it won't be around for posterity. Well, unless we eat too much of it and then it will show up on our posteriors. But most things have the possibility of being around in years. To be talked about. Stroked. Loved. Remembered.
I know that those are my favorite things.
blessings,
rhonda
What is Wrong?
What's wrong?
Nothing. Everything is fine.
The world is still spinning and the sun has come up.
Everything is fine.
But what's wrong?
Nothing. Everything is fine.
But, well maybe it seems that
the sun is a little less shiny today.
What's wrong?
Not much. Things are ok.
Well, perhaps I'm a little disappointed.
Maybe I'm not who I wish I was.
I'm pretty sure I'm not who they wish I was.
What's wrong.
Nothing.
I'm fine.
Life's good.
I'm learning.
I'm sure I'll get it eventually.
I hope it's in time.
But I think it's already too late.
What's wrong?
Just having a fussy day.
Tomorrow will be better.
I'm just sure of it.
I think.
I hope.
Probably not.
What's wrong?
I don't know.
I'm invisible.
Nobody sees.
I am mute.
Nobody can hear.
Somewhere, I got lost.
What's wrong?
Nothing.
I'm fine, thanks.
Nothing. Everything is fine.
The world is still spinning and the sun has come up.
Everything is fine.
But what's wrong?
Nothing. Everything is fine.
But, well maybe it seems that
the sun is a little less shiny today.
What's wrong?
Not much. Things are ok.
Well, perhaps I'm a little disappointed.
Maybe I'm not who I wish I was.
I'm pretty sure I'm not who they wish I was.
What's wrong.
Nothing.
I'm fine.
Life's good.
I'm learning.
I'm sure I'll get it eventually.
I hope it's in time.
But I think it's already too late.
What's wrong?
Just having a fussy day.
Tomorrow will be better.
I'm just sure of it.
I think.
I hope.
Probably not.
What's wrong?
I don't know.
I'm invisible.
Nobody sees.
I am mute.
Nobody can hear.
Somewhere, I got lost.
What's wrong?
Nothing.
I'm fine, thanks.
Small
It's funny how as women we want our bellies and rears to be small. Our feet maybe too. But not our hearts. Nor ever to FEEL small emotionally. We love small. Those dainty little women who can prance around and look so delicate. Small hands. Small nose. Small ears.
But put us in a relationship where we feel small and we are sad. We want to make relationships work. Generally we want to have big enough hearts and minds and lives to help and meet needs. To touch lives. To make people feel better. We want to be BIG enough. We want to make a difference. Not to be noticed so much. Really, not much at all. Appreciated. Loved. Cared for. Nurtured. But not applauded per se.
Women are givers of their very souls. They put their lives on the line every day simply by virtue of how vulnerable they are to their families and their friends.
Often called the weaker sex. Often seen as "too emotional". And yet, I applaud the women I know. Those who hold so many people's worlds together. I have watched grandmas and mamas and single women. I have seen how dearly they love. The compassion is a powerful force within their worlds. Their is nothing small about these women. They come in all sizes, shapes, colors and socio-economic statuses. They have in common their inner faith and strength to carry others through hard times. To be leaned on by their families. To stand when others would fall.
I love watching these women. I often wish and hope to be one. But it's kind of like other things in life......you don't know who you are until you enter circumstances that demand specific actions.
But, most of the women I know bemoan their bodies.......their hair.......their nails.....their butts.....their teeth......their wrinkles........their haircut.....their voice......their legs..........their boobs.
It's just so strange. These women who are rocks. Pillars. Strongholds in the world when everything is shaking are often troubled by what they see on the outside. But strangely, if you know any of these women of whom I speak, you will probably agree that their pant size is the last thing you notice. You are too busy being amazed by their care and compassion. You are touched by their generosity. They are the ones who hug you when you cry. Who bring you food when you are having financial trouble.
I think we should all strive to be BIG women. ;) Women who care more about who they are and how they follow their passions and styles and loves and faith more than how they look in the mirror. Not saying to quit showering. Or combing your hair. Or wearing great clothes. Just stop obsessing over the things that matter less and keep doing the things that matter most.
Give yourself a break. The people around you might like your outfit. They might admire that you've shed a few pounds. But the thing is that you are much more than that shell. No matter what you could ever do to change, cover or surgically enhance your body, it will never change who you are. So, set about learning to be LARGE in the eyes of those whose lives you touch.
blessings,
rhonda
But put us in a relationship where we feel small and we are sad. We want to make relationships work. Generally we want to have big enough hearts and minds and lives to help and meet needs. To touch lives. To make people feel better. We want to be BIG enough. We want to make a difference. Not to be noticed so much. Really, not much at all. Appreciated. Loved. Cared for. Nurtured. But not applauded per se.
Women are givers of their very souls. They put their lives on the line every day simply by virtue of how vulnerable they are to their families and their friends.
Often called the weaker sex. Often seen as "too emotional". And yet, I applaud the women I know. Those who hold so many people's worlds together. I have watched grandmas and mamas and single women. I have seen how dearly they love. The compassion is a powerful force within their worlds. Their is nothing small about these women. They come in all sizes, shapes, colors and socio-economic statuses. They have in common their inner faith and strength to carry others through hard times. To be leaned on by their families. To stand when others would fall.
I love watching these women. I often wish and hope to be one. But it's kind of like other things in life......you don't know who you are until you enter circumstances that demand specific actions.
But, most of the women I know bemoan their bodies.......their hair.......their nails.....their butts.....their teeth......their wrinkles........their haircut.....their voice......their legs..........their boobs.
It's just so strange. These women who are rocks. Pillars. Strongholds in the world when everything is shaking are often troubled by what they see on the outside. But strangely, if you know any of these women of whom I speak, you will probably agree that their pant size is the last thing you notice. You are too busy being amazed by their care and compassion. You are touched by their generosity. They are the ones who hug you when you cry. Who bring you food when you are having financial trouble.
I think we should all strive to be BIG women. ;) Women who care more about who they are and how they follow their passions and styles and loves and faith more than how they look in the mirror. Not saying to quit showering. Or combing your hair. Or wearing great clothes. Just stop obsessing over the things that matter less and keep doing the things that matter most.
Give yourself a break. The people around you might like your outfit. They might admire that you've shed a few pounds. But the thing is that you are much more than that shell. No matter what you could ever do to change, cover or surgically enhance your body, it will never change who you are. So, set about learning to be LARGE in the eyes of those whose lives you touch.
blessings,
rhonda
Realizing
Do you ever have ah ha moments? Moments where you realize that things are incredibly, indescribably different than what you wished or hoped or believed. I have had many in my life. Moments where it feels like layers are suddenly peeled off of my eyes and I see much more than ever before. Maybe it's because we can only bear so much at certain times of life and our hearts protect us.
In the last years I have been fighting an ah ha moment. I push it back. Put on the sunglasses. Flip down the visor. Look stubbornly in the other direction. Nonetheless, the moment is there. It came. I knew something more than I knew before and no amount of denying it can shove it back to the place where I don't know it......it is now a part of my reality.
This can be for good. Or for bad. You never really know in life. You just know that life is worth living. That dreams are worth pursuing. That passion is a must or else you completely miss the point.
My ah ha moment demands some things of me. I don't know how they will turn out or what I think of it. But I do know that growing and learning are worth it. I know that God is faithful. I know He created me and carries me.
I know that I really like life. It's grand, as my friend, Jan, so aptly puts it. It is the thing that we all have in common. We are all given the gift. To use. Fully. Without fear. Headlong. And sometimes we will have ah ha moments. Moments where we realize that we had it wrong. Where we realize that we made a mistake. Where we comprehend that we don't measure up on someone's scale. We will have disappointing ah has and "wow, I cannot believe how amazing that is" ah has.
I guess we have to decide what to do with them. But I will say that avoiding them does not work out so well. Can turn into depression. Chonda Pierce cracks me up. But when she said that depression is anger turned on ourselves, it made a lot of sense.
You all have had ah ha moments. What are you doing with them? I hope growing and learning adjusting and trusting.
blessings,
rhonda
In the last years I have been fighting an ah ha moment. I push it back. Put on the sunglasses. Flip down the visor. Look stubbornly in the other direction. Nonetheless, the moment is there. It came. I knew something more than I knew before and no amount of denying it can shove it back to the place where I don't know it......it is now a part of my reality.
This can be for good. Or for bad. You never really know in life. You just know that life is worth living. That dreams are worth pursuing. That passion is a must or else you completely miss the point.
My ah ha moment demands some things of me. I don't know how they will turn out or what I think of it. But I do know that growing and learning are worth it. I know that God is faithful. I know He created me and carries me.
I know that I really like life. It's grand, as my friend, Jan, so aptly puts it. It is the thing that we all have in common. We are all given the gift. To use. Fully. Without fear. Headlong. And sometimes we will have ah ha moments. Moments where we realize that we had it wrong. Where we realize that we made a mistake. Where we comprehend that we don't measure up on someone's scale. We will have disappointing ah has and "wow, I cannot believe how amazing that is" ah has.
I guess we have to decide what to do with them. But I will say that avoiding them does not work out so well. Can turn into depression. Chonda Pierce cracks me up. But when she said that depression is anger turned on ourselves, it made a lot of sense.
You all have had ah ha moments. What are you doing with them? I hope growing and learning adjusting and trusting.
blessings,
rhonda
Friday, March 5, 2010
The Teacher Becomes the Student
As of late, I have found it necessary to take myself to classes designed to help me be a better teacher. I like teaching. I haven't done it for years, but I'm good at it. It's pretty natural for me. What's funny is how the "new" things that they are teaching are really the same old things wrapped up in different jargon.
I have to learn new words to describe things that I was doing 20 years ago. I have learned that children learn better when engaged. Actually, I haven't learned any of those things. I already knew them. I called them different things but beyond the jargon, teaching hasn't really changed. However, the jargon makes it intimidating. All of these people are throwing around words that are not part of the normal person's vocabulary. Then they look at me like I am out of place since I don't know the words. But it's not the words that are important. It's the concept.
It makes me think of God, Jesus, church and church words. I think that lots of people get the concept of God and of Jesus because it's really pretty simple, but they get turned off by all of the church jargon. Propitiation. Very important concept, but can be explained much more simply.
This is just a call to all of us to keep it simple. Show more than tell. Explain in the language of the real people. It's expecially true with kids. Keep it simple. They can understand really complex concepts if you just tell it how it is and don't try to make it difficult.
I am learning a new language. I will learn it just fine. But in a couple of years it will change. I will adapt. Though the words cahnge, good teaching will always remain the same. No matter the norms or standards, all teachers know that the most important part of a classroom is the students.
blessings,
rhonda
I have to learn new words to describe things that I was doing 20 years ago. I have learned that children learn better when engaged. Actually, I haven't learned any of those things. I already knew them. I called them different things but beyond the jargon, teaching hasn't really changed. However, the jargon makes it intimidating. All of these people are throwing around words that are not part of the normal person's vocabulary. Then they look at me like I am out of place since I don't know the words. But it's not the words that are important. It's the concept.
It makes me think of God, Jesus, church and church words. I think that lots of people get the concept of God and of Jesus because it's really pretty simple, but they get turned off by all of the church jargon. Propitiation. Very important concept, but can be explained much more simply.
This is just a call to all of us to keep it simple. Show more than tell. Explain in the language of the real people. It's expecially true with kids. Keep it simple. They can understand really complex concepts if you just tell it how it is and don't try to make it difficult.
I am learning a new language. I will learn it just fine. But in a couple of years it will change. I will adapt. Though the words cahnge, good teaching will always remain the same. No matter the norms or standards, all teachers know that the most important part of a classroom is the students.
blessings,
rhonda
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