Blindsided to See Clearly

I’m guest posting at Katie M. Reid today.
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Have you ever been blindsided by life?
From out of nowhere, you’re hit with bad news and in an instant it all changes.

  • The marriage is over.
  • The child’s addicted.
  • The job ends.
  • The car’s wrecked.
  • The money’s gone.
  • The diagnosis is pronounced.

And all you can wail is WHY?

I get it. It happened to me, too. I expected that since life went pretty well for me as a WILD CHILD, it would continue to go well for me as a CHURCH GIRL.

See, I didn’t reconcile my differences with Jesus until I was in my 30’s so I had plenty of time to test the boundaries of the law, my moral compass and whatever gods there were. As a Club Dancer, then a Playboy Bunny, I was offered everything a girl could want…in exchange for what every boy wants. I had money, cars and adoration.

Every kind of indulgence was available to me.

When the One True God led me out of that life and into one with Him, I naturally assumed that things would only get better. Wouldn’t you?

And, they did. For a while.

Read more at Katie M. Reid’s blog.

When Compassion Turns to Competition

I admit it. I’m a grocery shopping snob expert.

After decades of feeding family and friends, several temporary live-ins, and many welcome (but often) unexpected guests, I can assure you that I am an expert grocery shopper. 

I’ve planned more meals than I can count, written thousands of lists, and taken zillions of trips to the store.  Since I lean more toward OCD utilitarian work than decorative, I never make one of anything I cook.  The pots are bigger, but it’s really not any harder to make two, three, or (dare I tell you), six times the recipe. This insanity method gives me the liberty to compassionately offer hospitality spontaneously and provide emergency meals generously. 

plates and food

Like any good WORK, it’s easy to slip into feeling good about the work instead of experiencing the pleasure of
Who It Is I Serve.

It is at the grocery store that my compassion quickly morphed into competition. 

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Are You A Rest Resister?

Everything I read about a balanced life
stresses the importance of rest.

Really?
Rest?
Just the thought of rest stresses me out!

I’m too busy to REST!

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Depending on the season, I have a family to take care of, kids to shuttle, pets to clean up after, a house to run, meals to plan, groceries to buy, food to prepare, laundry to wash, dry, fold, iron and put away.  I have a full time job, meetings to attend, cars to maintain, books to read, a blog to write and a sidewalk to shovel.

I don’t have time to rest!

Sound familiar?

I’m sure it does.
The fact is, that you need to rest as much as you need to breathe.

Truth be told,
REST IS WORK FOR ME!

I come from a long line of over achieving women who made multitasking an art form.
Rest isn’t something that comes naturally to me.
When I think about rest, something inside me seizes up.
Somewhere in my conditioning, I started to equate rest with laziness, weakness, and wasted time.

So untrue.

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Potato Body and New Year’s Resolutions

I attended a wedding recently, and when I saw the pictures of myself on Facebook, I was floored!

Mercy! What has happened to me?

It wasn’t my mother staring back at me, it was my GRANDMA! 
It wasn’t my face that grabbed my attention, but my body shape made me gasp in horror!

My hourglass figure has turned into a potato!

A nice big thick potato.

Ms. Potato Head

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A Recovering Perfectionist’s Christmas

As a recovering perfectionist, can I tell you that
this time of year really
tests my tizzy triggers.

I want to do everything perfectly,
meet everyone’s needs,
satisfy everyone’s wish list
and be of good cheer as I do it.

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That’s not what happened this year.

Did I get the gifts purchased, elegantly wrapped and mailed on time?
No, I sent checks – but they were hand written if that counts for anything.  
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One Person Can Make A Difference!

It’s Christmas time again, and the movies that bring tears of joy, hold you in suspense, and usher in a season of hope are being rented and shown nearly around the clock.  Miracle on 34th Street, It’s a Wonderful Life, The Grinch, Elf, Jingle All The Way, and Polar Express are all great choices, but my favorite is Christmas with the Kranks, based the the novel Skipping Christmas by John Grisham. 

Watch this to find out why…

I’d love to hear about your favorite Christmas movie and why.

Scripture Refresher:  So encourage each other and build each other up, just as you are already doing. 1 Thessalonians 5:11 (NLT)

Prayer: God, remind me to be a person who makes a difference in the lives of those around me. Let me show kindness, exhibit your love and demonstrate to the world that I am yours. Amen  

 

God’s Promises for Life’s Problems

In light of recent terrorist attacks at home and abroad, I wonder if you’re rethinking your concert attendance, your vacation destination, or your trip to the movies.

Even if you’re confident that danger is far off, challenges and crisis happen all the time.
I’m not talking about inconveniences like a car that won’t start or a long line at the post office.

I’m talking about the shocking, heartbreaking, disturbing bombshells.

  • The marriage is over.
  • The job ends.
  • The car’s wrecked.
  • The money’s gone.
  • The diagnoses is pronounced
  • The man of your dreams dies
    …and your life, like mine was, is irrevocably changed or altered in a way you don’t deserve.

Robyn and Almida gravesideWhen it happens to you there are two immediate and visceral reactions.

The first is NO!

You don’t like it, you don’t want it, and you don’t agree with it. 

Just NO!

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Take on Kindness Today.

Paper people holding handsToday I am thinking of things I am specifically thankful for.
What’s on your list?

I have the usual stuff – health, home, hubz, hunky man-children.  But also electric lights and curling irons, hot and cold running water on demand, and appliances that ease and expedite my life.  For moms and dads and cars that start.  For air conditioning and forced air heat.  I’m thankful that I live in a country that stands for freedom.  I can vote, continue my education and go to stores or movies without real fear of being blown up, hijacked or sold into slavery.

But my life has not been without tragedy. As a woman who has suffered loss, I will tell you it’s the kindness of friends and strangers alike that helped me make it through long seasons of sorrow. Most were followers of Jesus, but others were not.  All of them shared my burden of grief.  Their kindnesses helped make me well and whole and happy again.

And I am thankful.

Kindness is a universal language.  

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Great Memories From Unrealized Expectations

Deer hunting season means I get 42 hours all to myself.

Being a deer hunting widow means there will be no one in my house asking for food, beverages, clean socks or a back rub.  There will be no one who needs advice, an extra $20.00 or a ride anywhere.  There will be no one playing the piano badly, tracking a trail of mud through my kitchen, or falling off the jungle gym requiring a trip to ER.

It will be bliss.

Deer hunting season is when Mr. 4-Ever takes the boys north to commune with nature and other like-minded men.  They will eat bacon at every meal, sit around a fire sharpening knives to throw at trees and not change their undies for two whole uncivilized days.  

Dave at deer camp with TylerI was giddy with anticipation for their adventure and my staycation.  

I went to the video store and pre-selected the chick flicks I would rent the second Mr. 4-Ever’s truck disappeared from view.   

I squirreled away deli treats and expensive cheeses, hiding them in the recesses of the frig where no one would find them.  I bought sparkling flavored water and good chocolate which I kept hidden in the trunk of my car until the magic moment.

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What Do You Do If Your Proverbial House Is On Fire?

“Mom, I had my death picture taken today,” says my son over the phone.
“What? Your what?!?”

“My death picture. That’s what the guys call it.  We have our picture taken in front of the flag wearing our dress uniform.  If we die in the line of duty, that’s the picture they put on my casket and in the newspaper.”

“Oh,” is all I can say.

Eli’s a firefighter.

Eli in turnout gearHe’s been thoroughly trained on a course filled with obstacles designed to prepare (or purge) recruits who desire to fight fires.  To remind them of the perilous nature of the job, many of the obstacles are named for fallen firefighters. The Bob Lee Wall is a six foot high cement wall.  Bob Lee couldn’t scale a similar obstruction, was trapped in a fire and died. The Denver Drill is named for an downed firefighter who perished next to a window because his team couldn’t get him out of the fire from their position outside the building.  The Comrade Course is a series of cement tubes, 3 feet in diameter.  Recruits have to wriggle through them in a hundred pounds of turnout gear, secure a “victim” and drag them back through the tubes to safety.

It’s serious training because lives depend on it.

I hope and pray I never have to use Eli’s death picture.
But I know that fire and smoke try to kill my son on every call.

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