Thursday, July 26, 2007
Turning Pages.
Lately I've put myself in such a quandary I almost wonder if there is a point to this story, and needing to understand that, and maybe find some answers, I went to where it always feels so natural to be there, to my books.
Somewhere in between their old or new pages, I know I will find whatever it is I need. This is so comforting, the feeling I am safe, like I am when curled under my favorite blanket, while thunder and lightening claw at the windows so hard, I fear they'll break the anchored bolts with one roll of thunder, and race right in.
I don't know how you deal with wanting solutions and results, when it feels like it's forever before they come, but what I've noticed in my little universe is that God leaves hints about them all over the place, and I guess my job is to pay more attention to what He's trying to tell me.
If there were an exact timetable, or a well written instruction book to make things more clear, I might grasp them more quickly, but often I don't seem to, and to ease this self imposed frustration, you guessed it, I almost bury myself between pages, because it's difficult to worry when you're investigating new story plots.
Recently a daughter noticed my current style of life, which often leans toward boring, and she tenderly suggested I might put more fun and pleasure in my life, and because I value her insight and opinion,I commenced right away looking for more liveliness in movies, and certainly in more books, and these are what I found.
Already I am sounding slightly librarian. First I watched a movie the daughter gave me, "The Pursuit Of Happyness", and I think you'll agree that's a good way to approach putting more happy into living. The fact that the father and the son in it survived poverty, and then greatly flourished was a big encouragement to me.
I read a book, I actually took time to sit down and enjoy "Eat, Pray and Love" By Elizabeth Gilbert. It took me across Italy, and India, and Indonesia, and ventured deeply not only into religious beliefs, but much about morals, depending upon which direction they leaned, or whether you had any at all. And life itself from a woman's perspective kept coming up all through the book.
So far nothing I've read about or seen borders much on being lighthearted, except for situations Liz Gilbert couldn't seem to avoid getting caught in, especially in the section about love. She even seemed quite skilled at making the hard work of meditation almost easy, after some days of serious practice runs.
But I am trying to lighten up a bit here. Like Sara in The Land Before Time, I am alone, all alone. and sometimes lonely. So I found books, some very good ones, the kind that won't let their pages go unturned.
Max Lucado's "It's not About Me", and "In an Instant", by Lee and Bob Woodruff, who you may recognize is an ABC News Anchor man, are the ones I chose.
The first book is offfered as a "Rescue from the Life We Thought Would Make Us Happy", and the second one is called "A Family's Journey Of Love And Healing".
The fact that "In An instant' exploded in Iraq, where Woodruff was so injured, and in the process of reading about that, learning the blood and mud caked facts of that war, made the libray's wide expanse of current books all pale, and.I knew I must read that one first.
Lucado's "It's Not About me", I found in a thrift store, looking so new, one wondered if the previous owner ever turned a page. But I so needed to. People tell me I am Miss practicality, and I suppose there's merit in that. I got much more from this book than the two dollars it cost could have bought anywhere else.
If it hadn't accomplished anything else, it kept me in a good frame of thinking while waiting, day into another day, hoping, wondering if the phone would ever ring, about a job I'm wanting to get. In the first chapter "Not About Me" aligns our individual places in the universe, or perhaps just as importantly, on the streets where we live. While giving us some history that included ancients like Copernicus and Ptolemy, Lucado points out: "What Copernicus did for the earth, God does for our souls."
On page six I especially appreciated reading about the purpose and function of the moon. In a kind of "He also serves who only stands and waits", I now perceive more clearly the moon's reason for being. The author says: "The moon is at peace in her place. And because she is, soft light touches a dark earth." Is there anybody on this planet of ours who couldn't learn from how he explained that.
I'll admit I haven't read much farther in the book, but I will. Like the moon, I could absorb all that's shining in it, and maybe God would send me to put some rays of sun in people's' lives who need it.
Lee and Bob Woodruff's "In An Instant" makes me want to immediately declare another war. But since our country has more than enough of one to deal with now, I'll just spend my hours reading more about how Woodruff's family survived what happened to him there, and perhaps learn more about his family, and Iraq, and the war that rages there.
As early as in the first twenty eight pages of this book we are given a description not only of Woodruff being hit by an improvised explosive device, an IED, but a close up of the blood, thunder, and gut spilling killing that continues there.
Not that one could even speak of describing that land of war as if it's a place to visit, but Woodruff, in his realness of being there gives us mind eye mental pictures of "temperatures fluctuating to extremes, from blistering heat to chilling desert cold during the winter months." And he points out "You don't actually see the cold because the landscape remains forever the same, dusty and flat, during every season of the year."
When I heard that description of this strange and foreign place, I thought how hungry our soldiers must sometimes get to see the hills and valleys they left here, to go and fight that inexplicable war.
I chose those books to distract me from my eagerness and concern about this job I'm hoping to get. Either one of them merits better reasons to read them. But I must fill my mind with whatever I can. Words and thoughts strong enough to drive out doubt, and low regard for myself.
Though I talk as if I'm confident, sometimes I'm not, at least not enough. Little Aileen Quinn, our beloved "Annie", and Will Smith, in The Pursuit of Happyness", have courage and determination all over me, when it comes to having them right now.
Since the twelfth of June, when the Human Resource person let me know the job was posted, I've been trying so hard to be patient, and most days done alright with hanging on about it. But I haven't claimed nearly enough confidence as my own, and after learning that applicants were being rated, and another ten days elapsed, even buying new clothes and painting my nails a pretty shade hasen't prevented self doubt sneaking in., and I am realizing I need some Confidence! Now!
Almost two more weeks passed, and last night, after working very late, and again this morning, I mentally beat me up again all over myself,. and wondered if I should call the HR person, so I'd at least know if the job was assigned. I imagined all kinds of negative possibilities.
Someone else probably had more education and experience, and although it's not suppose to be allowed, was I eliminated because I'm older? Self pity doubled, tripled here. Made me realize how American Idol contestants must feel, when they've given the best performance they know how to, and that rude and arrogant guy who talks with a foreign accent sitting there so smugly sure of himself, rips their hopes and dreams apart under the guise that he's helping them.
I was really doing a self destructive number on myself. Perhaps I should consider public speaking, or become an auctioneer. If our military trained and fought wars like I was behaving this morning, America never would have won wars, and become, and protect the country it is.
Over my first morning coffee I reviewed in my head all that's clearly in my corner about this. Hopes and wishes I placed in a silent stack. Facts are all that's now needed, " the facts Mam, just the facts". Scenes from Dragnet try to interrupt, but I'm hurrying now.
From the first day I met this HR person, she's actively helped several times, first by checking my paper work with great detail, and she explained much about the hiring process, and she phoned to make sure I knew about the job vacancy, and called again, telling me more of how the process was moving along.
I remember the first time we met in her office. She took time to check my former employment there, and pointed out attributes in my favor, and since then has been nothing than most helpful .
Carefully I dialed her number, I thought, but was so uptight I got a wrong extension, where a voice who sounded like she was smiling forwarded me to the number I needed. "Courage, girl", I thought, as I waited, and what she said when she picked up the phone sang to me like a favorite melody. The hiring process is not yet finished! My name is still in the ring!!
In the meantime there's work to do. I'll find someone who will give me a wonderful hair cut, for a physical boost, and maybe I'll polish my nails once again, And if I have to practice everyday in front of a floor length mirror, I will banish all self defeating thoughts from my lips and my ears. They will not be allowed within fifty feet of wherever I am.
It is past time to put into action the self help wisdom I've learned throughout the years. God didn't let me become what I know that I know that I am, for no reason. He has more for me to do, I'm sure of it now.
I am still in the running. This time I'm not trying to persuade the "Rubber Tree plant ant" to push away only one of them. I've been mentally willing this jungle called life and the world it is in to roll out the trail I need to be on, when all this time, this angel disquised as an HR person made sure I am on it. I have studied and worked, and prepared a long time for this, so of course I am in the running. I always was. I think this will be the easiest job I've ever had. Because I finally understand I am only the arms and legs, and a well trained mind, ready for our Lord to use as He wishes, but the consolation prize I get is a peaceful and Happy Heart.
Somewhere in between their old or new pages, I know I will find whatever it is I need. This is so comforting, the feeling I am safe, like I am when curled under my favorite blanket, while thunder and lightening claw at the windows so hard, I fear they'll break the anchored bolts with one roll of thunder, and race right in.
I don't know how you deal with wanting solutions and results, when it feels like it's forever before they come, but what I've noticed in my little universe is that God leaves hints about them all over the place, and I guess my job is to pay more attention to what He's trying to tell me.
If there were an exact timetable, or a well written instruction book to make things more clear, I might grasp them more quickly, but often I don't seem to, and to ease this self imposed frustration, you guessed it, I almost bury myself between pages, because it's difficult to worry when you're investigating new story plots.
Recently a daughter noticed my current style of life, which often leans toward boring, and she tenderly suggested I might put more fun and pleasure in my life, and because I value her insight and opinion,I commenced right away looking for more liveliness in movies, and certainly in more books, and these are what I found.
Already I am sounding slightly librarian. First I watched a movie the daughter gave me, "The Pursuit Of Happyness", and I think you'll agree that's a good way to approach putting more happy into living. The fact that the father and the son in it survived poverty, and then greatly flourished was a big encouragement to me.
I read a book, I actually took time to sit down and enjoy "Eat, Pray and Love" By Elizabeth Gilbert. It took me across Italy, and India, and Indonesia, and ventured deeply not only into religious beliefs, but much about morals, depending upon which direction they leaned, or whether you had any at all. And life itself from a woman's perspective kept coming up all through the book.
So far nothing I've read about or seen borders much on being lighthearted, except for situations Liz Gilbert couldn't seem to avoid getting caught in, especially in the section about love. She even seemed quite skilled at making the hard work of meditation almost easy, after some days of serious practice runs.
But I am trying to lighten up a bit here. Like Sara in The Land Before Time, I am alone, all alone. and sometimes lonely. So I found books, some very good ones, the kind that won't let their pages go unturned.
Max Lucado's "It's not About Me", and "In an Instant", by Lee and Bob Woodruff, who you may recognize is an ABC News Anchor man, are the ones I chose.
The first book is offfered as a "Rescue from the Life We Thought Would Make Us Happy", and the second one is called "A Family's Journey Of Love And Healing".
The fact that "In An instant' exploded in Iraq, where Woodruff was so injured, and in the process of reading about that, learning the blood and mud caked facts of that war, made the libray's wide expanse of current books all pale, and.I knew I must read that one first.
Lucado's "It's Not About me", I found in a thrift store, looking so new, one wondered if the previous owner ever turned a page. But I so needed to. People tell me I am Miss practicality, and I suppose there's merit in that. I got much more from this book than the two dollars it cost could have bought anywhere else.
If it hadn't accomplished anything else, it kept me in a good frame of thinking while waiting, day into another day, hoping, wondering if the phone would ever ring, about a job I'm wanting to get. In the first chapter "Not About Me" aligns our individual places in the universe, or perhaps just as importantly, on the streets where we live. While giving us some history that included ancients like Copernicus and Ptolemy, Lucado points out: "What Copernicus did for the earth, God does for our souls."
On page six I especially appreciated reading about the purpose and function of the moon. In a kind of "He also serves who only stands and waits", I now perceive more clearly the moon's reason for being. The author says: "The moon is at peace in her place. And because she is, soft light touches a dark earth." Is there anybody on this planet of ours who couldn't learn from how he explained that.
I'll admit I haven't read much farther in the book, but I will. Like the moon, I could absorb all that's shining in it, and maybe God would send me to put some rays of sun in people's' lives who need it.
Lee and Bob Woodruff's "In An Instant" makes me want to immediately declare another war. But since our country has more than enough of one to deal with now, I'll just spend my hours reading more about how Woodruff's family survived what happened to him there, and perhaps learn more about his family, and Iraq, and the war that rages there.
As early as in the first twenty eight pages of this book we are given a description not only of Woodruff being hit by an improvised explosive device, an IED, but a close up of the blood, thunder, and gut spilling killing that continues there.
Not that one could even speak of describing that land of war as if it's a place to visit, but Woodruff, in his realness of being there gives us mind eye mental pictures of "temperatures fluctuating to extremes, from blistering heat to chilling desert cold during the winter months." And he points out "You don't actually see the cold because the landscape remains forever the same, dusty and flat, during every season of the year."
When I heard that description of this strange and foreign place, I thought how hungry our soldiers must sometimes get to see the hills and valleys they left here, to go and fight that inexplicable war.
I chose those books to distract me from my eagerness and concern about this job I'm hoping to get. Either one of them merits better reasons to read them. But I must fill my mind with whatever I can. Words and thoughts strong enough to drive out doubt, and low regard for myself.
Though I talk as if I'm confident, sometimes I'm not, at least not enough. Little Aileen Quinn, our beloved "Annie", and Will Smith, in The Pursuit of Happyness", have courage and determination all over me, when it comes to having them right now.
Since the twelfth of June, when the Human Resource person let me know the job was posted, I've been trying so hard to be patient, and most days done alright with hanging on about it. But I haven't claimed nearly enough confidence as my own, and after learning that applicants were being rated, and another ten days elapsed, even buying new clothes and painting my nails a pretty shade hasen't prevented self doubt sneaking in., and I am realizing I need some Confidence! Now!
Almost two more weeks passed, and last night, after working very late, and again this morning, I mentally beat me up again all over myself,. and wondered if I should call the HR person, so I'd at least know if the job was assigned. I imagined all kinds of negative possibilities.
Someone else probably had more education and experience, and although it's not suppose to be allowed, was I eliminated because I'm older? Self pity doubled, tripled here. Made me realize how American Idol contestants must feel, when they've given the best performance they know how to, and that rude and arrogant guy who talks with a foreign accent sitting there so smugly sure of himself, rips their hopes and dreams apart under the guise that he's helping them.
I was really doing a self destructive number on myself. Perhaps I should consider public speaking, or become an auctioneer. If our military trained and fought wars like I was behaving this morning, America never would have won wars, and become, and protect the country it is.
Over my first morning coffee I reviewed in my head all that's clearly in my corner about this. Hopes and wishes I placed in a silent stack. Facts are all that's now needed, " the facts Mam, just the facts". Scenes from Dragnet try to interrupt, but I'm hurrying now.
From the first day I met this HR person, she's actively helped several times, first by checking my paper work with great detail, and she explained much about the hiring process, and she phoned to make sure I knew about the job vacancy, and called again, telling me more of how the process was moving along.
I remember the first time we met in her office. She took time to check my former employment there, and pointed out attributes in my favor, and since then has been nothing than most helpful .
Carefully I dialed her number, I thought, but was so uptight I got a wrong extension, where a voice who sounded like she was smiling forwarded me to the number I needed. "Courage, girl", I thought, as I waited, and what she said when she picked up the phone sang to me like a favorite melody. The hiring process is not yet finished! My name is still in the ring!!
In the meantime there's work to do. I'll find someone who will give me a wonderful hair cut, for a physical boost, and maybe I'll polish my nails once again, And if I have to practice everyday in front of a floor length mirror, I will banish all self defeating thoughts from my lips and my ears. They will not be allowed within fifty feet of wherever I am.
It is past time to put into action the self help wisdom I've learned throughout the years. God didn't let me become what I know that I know that I am, for no reason. He has more for me to do, I'm sure of it now.
I am still in the running. This time I'm not trying to persuade the "Rubber Tree plant ant" to push away only one of them. I've been mentally willing this jungle called life and the world it is in to roll out the trail I need to be on, when all this time, this angel disquised as an HR person made sure I am on it. I have studied and worked, and prepared a long time for this, so of course I am in the running. I always was. I think this will be the easiest job I've ever had. Because I finally understand I am only the arms and legs, and a well trained mind, ready for our Lord to use as He wishes, but the consolation prize I get is a peaceful and Happy Heart.
Wednesday, July 25, 2007
If Jesus Came To Visit
Luke Ch. 10, verses 38-42 in my International Inductive Study Bible, the New American Standard Bible goes like this:
Now as they were traveling along, He entered a certain village, and a woman named Martha welcomed Him into her home. And she had a sister called Mary, who moreover was listening to the Lord's word, seated at His feet.
But Martha was distracted with all her preparations; and she came up to Him, and said, Lord, do you not care that my sister has left me to do all the serving alone? Then tell her to help me."
But the Lord answered and said to her; "Martha, Martha, you are worried and bothered about so many things; but only a few things are necessary, really only one, for Mary has chosen the good part, which shall not be taken away from her."
When I first learned what scriptures designated for this CWO posting are, my first reaction was to just skip this one. Like countless other women, I've heard the Mary/Martha story so many times, and thought, what else can possibly be said about these women's encounter with Jesus that would help Christian women have a closer relationship with Him?
Deciding that not much else could be said about those Bible verses, I looked a little closer, beginning with how the Book of Luke started. My Bible points out that Matthew presents Jesus as King of the Jews, and in Mark, He is offered as the Servant who came to give His life for many. But the Book of Luke takes us consecutively through the days of His being here.
Before he ended up at Martha's house, it points out that He was about thirty when He began His ministry, and over and over numerous situations and encounters people had with Him, He used to point us to Him going to the Cross for us, and trying again and again to tell us how to live.
The scriptures immediately after those that have become the Matha/Mary story point out that He was in a particular place, praying, and when he was done, a disciple asked Him to teach them how to pray, and He did, using words we proclaim throughout our lives.
In chapter ten, a lawyer seems to want to argue only for argument's sake, and asks what to do to inherit eternal life, as if he were already entitled to it, Jesus gives him the Great Commandment, at which the lawyer quibbles even more, asking who his neighbor is, and He tells him about the Good Samaritan.
Those are the scriptures just before the Martha/Mary story. Our Lord is talking about things eternal, and while we understand Martha wanting to be a good hostess while He's her guest, she is about to miss the most important reason for Him being there.
Throughout Luke, horribly sick people are being healed. Ego-centered situations like "which one of us is the greatest?" rear their ugly jealous or selfish heads. But our Saviour used every occasion of those, to open their minds to loving and being loved. Nowhere in all of these parables and examples can you find that the way to know our Lord, and be with Him in Heaven, is by having a spotless house.
If you can tolerate a little Southern, next time company's on the way to your house, start the kettle cooking, and maybe bake some really good cornbread, And after you put the welcome mat out, comb your hair a little, and make sure the coffee's fresh. You never know, when a visitor comes it might just be an unexpected angel, or even our Lord.
Come to think about it, there's something else I've never seen: burial headstones engraved "She was the finest housekeeper in the world." Maybe when we eventually return to the dust we came from, it will be alright if some of it comes from the house.
Now as they were traveling along, He entered a certain village, and a woman named Martha welcomed Him into her home. And she had a sister called Mary, who moreover was listening to the Lord's word, seated at His feet.
But Martha was distracted with all her preparations; and she came up to Him, and said, Lord, do you not care that my sister has left me to do all the serving alone? Then tell her to help me."
But the Lord answered and said to her; "Martha, Martha, you are worried and bothered about so many things; but only a few things are necessary, really only one, for Mary has chosen the good part, which shall not be taken away from her."
When I first learned what scriptures designated for this CWO posting are, my first reaction was to just skip this one. Like countless other women, I've heard the Mary/Martha story so many times, and thought, what else can possibly be said about these women's encounter with Jesus that would help Christian women have a closer relationship with Him?
Deciding that not much else could be said about those Bible verses, I looked a little closer, beginning with how the Book of Luke started. My Bible points out that Matthew presents Jesus as King of the Jews, and in Mark, He is offered as the Servant who came to give His life for many. But the Book of Luke takes us consecutively through the days of His being here.
Before he ended up at Martha's house, it points out that He was about thirty when He began His ministry, and over and over numerous situations and encounters people had with Him, He used to point us to Him going to the Cross for us, and trying again and again to tell us how to live.
The scriptures immediately after those that have become the Matha/Mary story point out that He was in a particular place, praying, and when he was done, a disciple asked Him to teach them how to pray, and He did, using words we proclaim throughout our lives.
In chapter ten, a lawyer seems to want to argue only for argument's sake, and asks what to do to inherit eternal life, as if he were already entitled to it, Jesus gives him the Great Commandment, at which the lawyer quibbles even more, asking who his neighbor is, and He tells him about the Good Samaritan.
Those are the scriptures just before the Martha/Mary story. Our Lord is talking about things eternal, and while we understand Martha wanting to be a good hostess while He's her guest, she is about to miss the most important reason for Him being there.
Throughout Luke, horribly sick people are being healed. Ego-centered situations like "which one of us is the greatest?" rear their ugly jealous or selfish heads. But our Saviour used every occasion of those, to open their minds to loving and being loved. Nowhere in all of these parables and examples can you find that the way to know our Lord, and be with Him in Heaven, is by having a spotless house.
If you can tolerate a little Southern, next time company's on the way to your house, start the kettle cooking, and maybe bake some really good cornbread, And after you put the welcome mat out, comb your hair a little, and make sure the coffee's fresh. You never know, when a visitor comes it might just be an unexpected angel, or even our Lord.
Come to think about it, there's something else I've never seen: burial headstones engraved "She was the finest housekeeper in the world." Maybe when we eventually return to the dust we came from, it will be alright if some of it comes from the house.
Sunday, July 22, 2007
But He had High Hopes....
In a post last week about changing the kind of work I'm doing, I somehow got into humming Annie's "Tomorrow", and pretty soon "The Sun'll Come up" part of it tiptoed in and encircled itself, and this whole concept of positivity just keeps growing. So please don't get too upset with yourself if you soon start singing about a rubber tree plant.
"Just what makes that little ol' ant think he'll move a rubber tree plant? Everyone knows an ant can't move a rubber tree plant." I've been really struggling with deciding what to do, whether to leave nursing, and you have to admit that singing even a corny song is better than fretting.
But it's not just this one question I'm troubling myself about. If I were only forty, I'd suspect a midlife crisis, but the odds for that are definitely slim. I do have this problem that I need to decide on, what do I plan to do with myself when I grow up. Children and college students are asked this a lot. But I'm still trying to figure it out. So I turned to the best source for an answer I can find, books, and here they are. They should have all the answers I'll need, or tell me where to find them.
My favorite Bible, The International Children's Devotional Bible,
Write Source 2000, A Guide to Writing, Thinking, and Learning,
and Elizabeth Gilbert's "Eat, Pray, Love".
Except for the last one, I'm sure I've mentioned them before. This intriguing author describes her book as "One Woman's Search For Everything Across Italy, India and Indonesia." It's published by Penguin Books, 2006, and is a paperback, that makes it easier to read in any room you happen to be in.
I chose these three to fill different needs, the Bible, of course to keep washing my soul, and the one on writing, well it's the proverbial what I'd take with me if I knew the rest of my life I'd be on some faraway isolated island. What I'd use for pen and paper there, I'm not sure, and I kind of doubt that remote islands provide modems, but I would want some books that come even close to what Elizabeth Gilbert's written, even if I didn't have computer hookup.
Maybe it's because I'm kind of on a personal pilgrimage, I could relate in more than one vein to this journey she privileged me to take. Her book lists nineteen or more endorsements, but I'll share only two of them here. GQ Magazine said: "Be advised that the supremely entertaining Eat, Pray, Love--a mid-thirties memoir, by the endlessly talented Elizabeth Gilbert--is not just for the ladies, fellas", and Anne Lamott concludes all the fine things said about this writer. "She's jaunty, human, ethereal, hilarious, and God, does she pay great attention to the things that really matter."
Sometimes we may need a picture drawn by a total stranger, to mirror ourselves. While Gilbert is putting on weight from all the fine food in Italy, I'm pigging out from the whole big carton of comforting ice cream when I get home from another nursing shift I'm not wanting to do anymore.
But all it does is make me fat, and still, I haven't decided what to do when I grow up. My soul is in very good hands, but I haven't taken good care of my body. And Gilbert's quest for, what did she call it, balance, equilibrium? I'm pretty sure mine needs some fine tuning, too.
I was reading in the devotional Bible today, about young David getting ready to fight Goliath. Saul put his clothes on David, including a bronze helmet and his own sword. But David took them off. They weighed him down. David met the giant with his own choice of weapon, and in his own way, and we all know how it came out. I must remove what's weighing me down, or I'll never do what my heart knows I want to."But he had high hopes, high hopes, high in the sky, apple pie hopes.....Yeah!
"Just what makes that little ol' ant think he'll move a rubber tree plant? Everyone knows an ant can't move a rubber tree plant." I've been really struggling with deciding what to do, whether to leave nursing, and you have to admit that singing even a corny song is better than fretting.
But it's not just this one question I'm troubling myself about. If I were only forty, I'd suspect a midlife crisis, but the odds for that are definitely slim. I do have this problem that I need to decide on, what do I plan to do with myself when I grow up. Children and college students are asked this a lot. But I'm still trying to figure it out. So I turned to the best source for an answer I can find, books, and here they are. They should have all the answers I'll need, or tell me where to find them.
My favorite Bible, The International Children's Devotional Bible,
Write Source 2000, A Guide to Writing, Thinking, and Learning,
and Elizabeth Gilbert's "Eat, Pray, Love".
Except for the last one, I'm sure I've mentioned them before. This intriguing author describes her book as "One Woman's Search For Everything Across Italy, India and Indonesia." It's published by Penguin Books, 2006, and is a paperback, that makes it easier to read in any room you happen to be in.
I chose these three to fill different needs, the Bible, of course to keep washing my soul, and the one on writing, well it's the proverbial what I'd take with me if I knew the rest of my life I'd be on some faraway isolated island. What I'd use for pen and paper there, I'm not sure, and I kind of doubt that remote islands provide modems, but I would want some books that come even close to what Elizabeth Gilbert's written, even if I didn't have computer hookup.
Maybe it's because I'm kind of on a personal pilgrimage, I could relate in more than one vein to this journey she privileged me to take. Her book lists nineteen or more endorsements, but I'll share only two of them here. GQ Magazine said: "Be advised that the supremely entertaining Eat, Pray, Love--a mid-thirties memoir, by the endlessly talented Elizabeth Gilbert--is not just for the ladies, fellas", and Anne Lamott concludes all the fine things said about this writer. "She's jaunty, human, ethereal, hilarious, and God, does she pay great attention to the things that really matter."
Sometimes we may need a picture drawn by a total stranger, to mirror ourselves. While Gilbert is putting on weight from all the fine food in Italy, I'm pigging out from the whole big carton of comforting ice cream when I get home from another nursing shift I'm not wanting to do anymore.
But all it does is make me fat, and still, I haven't decided what to do when I grow up. My soul is in very good hands, but I haven't taken good care of my body. And Gilbert's quest for, what did she call it, balance, equilibrium? I'm pretty sure mine needs some fine tuning, too.
I was reading in the devotional Bible today, about young David getting ready to fight Goliath. Saul put his clothes on David, including a bronze helmet and his own sword. But David took them off. They weighed him down. David met the giant with his own choice of weapon, and in his own way, and we all know how it came out. I must remove what's weighing me down, or I'll never do what my heart knows I want to."But he had high hopes, high hopes, high in the sky, apple pie hopes.....Yeah!
Friday, July 20, 2007
Happiness is sharing it together.
While checking blogs tonight I saw that Karen at Over The Backyard Fence has received an award for The Creative Blogger, and also one for thoughtfulness. The descriptions of what these are given for became two very long paragraphs. Easily enough to rosy up some cheeks, and give modesty a reason to look away a moment.The one for being creative really gets going, when it says it is for the artsy, the funky, the inventor, and even the rebel, and sums it all up with: "This award is for those individuals who stand out from the crowd", And we haven't got to the thoughtfulness one yet, so I'll sum it up with "This award is for those generous bloggers who think of others."
By now I'm more than a little curious, so I go to Karen's blog, and sure enough, creativity is all over it, especially when she blogs about her family and their life together. How she gets the energy to do so much, at the same time, is a looming question. But her thoughtfulness in all of it, and even further, is hands down clear.
Karen just passed these honors down to five other bloggers, and one of them was me. She said the sweetest thing I've heard in many a time; she said I have a poet's heart. I would list the other ladies who were chosen, but I can't figure out how to pull up their names, without messing up this post. And like Karen, I probably shouldn't be recognized for blogging design, and fixing sites; anything more critical than posting and publishing, all those things wouldbe writers can't take time for. I can't even show the nice award buttons yet because I don't know how to, but a quick email to a daughter in the morning will take care of it, which proves again we members of this blogging family really are in it together. Thanks for the honors, Karen.
Wednesday, July 18, 2007
The sun'll come out......
In a previous post I wrote about making a job change. Not just changing where I work, but doing a different kind. I talked about getting all ready for it by choosing what to wear to interviews, and psyched myself up by practicing thoughts that boost self esteem. I even did some physical repairs, colored hair, and then polished my nails.
Someone where I'm hoping to be hired has been very helpful by making sure I knew when to apply there, and she called again, saying it's important that I phone her tomorrow. This made today kind of a challenge, since, like in "Annie", it's the only thing between now and then. Several times today, feeling hopeful, and even happy, it was all I could do to not sing Annie's entire optimistic song.
But I'm trying to be grownup and realistic here, and that includes preparing for however this may turn out. I mean, it's not like I don't have a job, or can't find one. It's the so wanting to change the direction I'm going with it. Lots of people I'm pretty sure, might welcome having this kind of trouble
Which ever way this does or doesn't go tomorrow, I'm sure our Lord holds our best interest in His Hands. But if you're out somewhere in this part of the world (do I dare say "Tomorrow") again, and hear a lady singing those words, it won't be a famous little red head giving her song to the wind. It'll be me, singing off key to the Lord, "Tomorrow, tomorrow, I'll love you tomorrow, you're only a day away." Please pray for me about this. In the meantime, Good night all, and thanks.
Someone where I'm hoping to be hired has been very helpful by making sure I knew when to apply there, and she called again, saying it's important that I phone her tomorrow. This made today kind of a challenge, since, like in "Annie", it's the only thing between now and then. Several times today, feeling hopeful, and even happy, it was all I could do to not sing Annie's entire optimistic song.
But I'm trying to be grownup and realistic here, and that includes preparing for however this may turn out. I mean, it's not like I don't have a job, or can't find one. It's the so wanting to change the direction I'm going with it. Lots of people I'm pretty sure, might welcome having this kind of trouble
Which ever way this does or doesn't go tomorrow, I'm sure our Lord holds our best interest in His Hands. But if you're out somewhere in this part of the world (do I dare say "Tomorrow") again, and hear a lady singing those words, it won't be a famous little red head giving her song to the wind. It'll be me, singing off key to the Lord, "Tomorrow, tomorrow, I'll love you tomorrow, you're only a day away." Please pray for me about this. In the meantime, Good night all, and thanks.
Friday, July 13, 2007
Places to go, People to see, and Promises Kept.
When I wake up in the morning, all rested and nice, between my crisp. clean sheets, I will feel good, and even proud, because I kept a promise I made to myself.
For days I've wondered if the phone would ring about a job I'm hoping to get, and so far it hasn't. Of course I've done my self-defeating and insecure dance about it, and drummed up every reason I could imagine why they wouldn't hire me. The work would be in psychology, which I'm very strong in, but like it's written in the Bible about not trying to be our own doctors, I suppose I shouldn't analyze me either.
I've been reading about how to interview better, and have come up with what I'm hoping helps my chances. My resume' will tell them about what I've learned, in school and in life. But I'm thinking those who appraise me may be more interested in how they think I'll use all that knowlege. So here's my correction plan.
I am improving the package I'll be showing up in. For days I've been practicing out loud some bolstering self talk. Not the kind my new patients may chant again and again. Positive affirmations, like: "Lady,You can sure do this." "You'd be so right for the job." and "They will be eternally glad they chose you to work with".
But in case I break into a nervous old sweat, and alltogether flub my lines, as in totally screwing them up, on the chance I'd let that sabotage this opportunity, I promised myself before this night was over, I would color my hair, and paint my little toenails.
If I get the chance to try out for this work I so want to do, I will come armed, or at least adorned in an overnight hair color change, and my nails, the ones encased in my four dollar thrift store Eurostep leather sandals, will shine, as they silently proclaim they're now Sally Hanson's Oasis Dawn shade.
The fact that the shoes are hand-me-downs won't bother me at all. A careful cleaning, then spraying with New! Clean fresh fragrance Lysol disinfectant took care of that. And the Sally Hanson polish costing only $1.49 won't detract from its stylish statement. The words Miss Hanson named it give me some hope about the job. "Oasis, a fertile place in a desert, and Dawn, the beginning of something".
Until tonight I hadn't polished my toe nails in years, and they do look very, very! And now that I've improved how even my tootsies look, I may do it again. But if using these morale boosters doesn't create enough confidence, maybe my wearing new lacy undies will. I think you'll agree with most of this story, except possibly my talking about suggestive looking underwear. But there really is a more important factor to be pointed out here.
Getting the position would prop up my little ego, and put more money in the bank account, but as important as all that might seem, something else is moreso. God and His Son have looked after me a very long time, and always done a better job of it than I usually do, no matter how hard I tried to.
I don't intend sounding sacrilegious about it, but He did create the whole wide world, even the pretty nail polish, and those very expensive and wonderful feeling Eurostep sandals He left for me at the thrift store, for less than a five dollar bill.
So I'll do what I can to present myself for the job as well as I can, and leave the outcome to Him. But if some days my faith needs a little propping, I'll just look down at my toes, and see Sally's polish, and those Eurostep sandals smiling up at me.
I used to hesitate to petition God for small, human things, but as he's told us to, I'm getting bolder about this. To borrow a phrase from the Corporate World slang, my Savior's the ultimate Resource Person for humans. He's really into managing people.
And I seriously vow that I didn't make this next thing up. As I sit here correcting errors, and trying to improve this post, the telephone just rang. It was the Human Resource Dept. of where I'm trying to go to work, the person I wrote about months ago, in "A Bridge Suspended," the most helpful human resource person I've ever met, except for God.
She called to make sure I stay in touch, as the hiring process proceeds. I don't think any of this will interrupt my sleep, no matter how long it takes. God's in His Heaven, and He keeps his Promises.
For days I've wondered if the phone would ring about a job I'm hoping to get, and so far it hasn't. Of course I've done my self-defeating and insecure dance about it, and drummed up every reason I could imagine why they wouldn't hire me. The work would be in psychology, which I'm very strong in, but like it's written in the Bible about not trying to be our own doctors, I suppose I shouldn't analyze me either.
I've been reading about how to interview better, and have come up with what I'm hoping helps my chances. My resume' will tell them about what I've learned, in school and in life. But I'm thinking those who appraise me may be more interested in how they think I'll use all that knowlege. So here's my correction plan.
I am improving the package I'll be showing up in. For days I've been practicing out loud some bolstering self talk. Not the kind my new patients may chant again and again. Positive affirmations, like: "Lady,You can sure do this." "You'd be so right for the job." and "They will be eternally glad they chose you to work with".
But in case I break into a nervous old sweat, and alltogether flub my lines, as in totally screwing them up, on the chance I'd let that sabotage this opportunity, I promised myself before this night was over, I would color my hair, and paint my little toenails.
If I get the chance to try out for this work I so want to do, I will come armed, or at least adorned in an overnight hair color change, and my nails, the ones encased in my four dollar thrift store Eurostep leather sandals, will shine, as they silently proclaim they're now Sally Hanson's Oasis Dawn shade.
The fact that the shoes are hand-me-downs won't bother me at all. A careful cleaning, then spraying with New! Clean fresh fragrance Lysol disinfectant took care of that. And the Sally Hanson polish costing only $1.49 won't detract from its stylish statement. The words Miss Hanson named it give me some hope about the job. "Oasis, a fertile place in a desert, and Dawn, the beginning of something".
Until tonight I hadn't polished my toe nails in years, and they do look very, very! And now that I've improved how even my tootsies look, I may do it again. But if using these morale boosters doesn't create enough confidence, maybe my wearing new lacy undies will. I think you'll agree with most of this story, except possibly my talking about suggestive looking underwear. But there really is a more important factor to be pointed out here.
Getting the position would prop up my little ego, and put more money in the bank account, but as important as all that might seem, something else is moreso. God and His Son have looked after me a very long time, and always done a better job of it than I usually do, no matter how hard I tried to.
I don't intend sounding sacrilegious about it, but He did create the whole wide world, even the pretty nail polish, and those very expensive and wonderful feeling Eurostep sandals He left for me at the thrift store, for less than a five dollar bill.
So I'll do what I can to present myself for the job as well as I can, and leave the outcome to Him. But if some days my faith needs a little propping, I'll just look down at my toes, and see Sally's polish, and those Eurostep sandals smiling up at me.
I used to hesitate to petition God for small, human things, but as he's told us to, I'm getting bolder about this. To borrow a phrase from the Corporate World slang, my Savior's the ultimate Resource Person for humans. He's really into managing people.
And I seriously vow that I didn't make this next thing up. As I sit here correcting errors, and trying to improve this post, the telephone just rang. It was the Human Resource Dept. of where I'm trying to go to work, the person I wrote about months ago, in "A Bridge Suspended," the most helpful human resource person I've ever met, except for God.
She called to make sure I stay in touch, as the hiring process proceeds. I don't think any of this will interrupt my sleep, no matter how long it takes. God's in His Heaven, and He keeps his Promises.
Monday, July 09, 2007
More on The Happiness Trail
When I posted about the movie, "The Pursuit Of Happyness", I thought I was done with it. But comments about it I can feel with my heart tell me there's more to be said.
I had learned this movie was about a real person, and being such a hang in there, go getter kind myself, I really admired that about him. My daughter, Barb at a Chelsea Morning pointed out two things so significant about the story. Her recollection of the father and his son sleeping in a public bathroom, because they had nowhere else to go, and the break neck speeed the father kept up throughout the movie. When the cameras honed in on his face, and his silent tears slowly fell, my well clothed comfortable gut felt ike it was lying on the bathroom floor next to him.
Early in the movie I noticed everything seemed to move too quickly, almost frantically, and I think this portrayed two things; the man's desperation to care for his son, and the atmosphere of the workplace of stockbroker trading.
Because this story is about a real person, I have to watch it again, so I can remember the face of someone who hung on to his dream, no matter what got in the way of it. His expression when he realized he had done it, wiped away the desperation he let himself think of only a moment on the bathroom floor, before he took the next uncertain step forward to the freedom of reaching his goal.
At the risk of repeating myself, but hoping you'll understand, let me tell you of a time in my life, and one simple decision that made, and continues to bring about tremendous good for at least four generations. I'm convinced much of what we do has little to do with ourselves, even though in our limited thinking, we might not agree at the time we make a decision, or do something.
Daughter, Barb had come to Denver, from eloping to North Dakota. The other members of our family were still down in Texas, where I longed for something better for all of us, and I was more than a little upset, about not knowing anything about a son inlaw I hadn't even met. So I figured out a way to get to Denver, while hoping God understood that I lied about younger daughter Bev's age. It was the only way we'd have enough money for the trip. (Bev's at "Scratchin' the Surface").
I considered seeing if there were Postal job openings, since both my husband and I worked for it, but the son inlaw's work hours made it hard to do, and soon the days were almost gone, and the next morning little Bev and I would board a greyhound back to Texas.
At first I told myself she and I should at least see part of Denver, before leaving it. But something in me, perhaps like the "Happyness" father felt, a glimmering hope no stronger then than the legs of a newborn calf stretched itself out, and I found a bus that would take us to the downtown Denver post office.
Bev and I didn't do any sightseeing the rest of that day, that mostly began when I left her standing outside the postmaster's office door, pointing out probably too many times, for her to not talk with anyone while she waited there for me. I didn't know if it was alright to bring a child to a job interview.
The Post Master asked me one question: Did I know how to sort mail by hand. Recently they had initiated using letter sorting machines, but still needed people like me who worked the mail before the LSM was invented.
I told the PM to talk with my old boss, and they'd see I was a good employee, and he did, and while you're at it, I said to him, to talk with them about my husband who is a mail man. "He's a very good carrier". So Bev and I walked out of the building, where I stopped a minute to wipe the finger printing stuff off my hands, and I knew where we'd go next. Tourists carry cameras, even little cheap ones. So I found a streetside mail box, and got Bev to capture the moment I realized we were coming to Denver. Of course, I would need to convince her father of this, but once a dream takes flight, there is no keeping it down.
I still have that picture. It's edges are almost as wrinkled as me, and when I need courage propped up stronger than I feel it is at the time, I take a long look at the young woman I was then, and think of all the mental mountains I've climbed, and though I felt alone in it then, realize Someone was at my side, and think how proud God must have been when, in spite of my many failures and wrongs, once in a while, I made a decision that has caused all the difference.
Do you have one, and if you do, I hope it's a very big one. When I die, whenever that is, please bury me someplace there's a great view of this town, but until then, I have other dreams and goals to pursue that began on a greyhound to Denver.
I had learned this movie was about a real person, and being such a hang in there, go getter kind myself, I really admired that about him. My daughter, Barb at a Chelsea Morning pointed out two things so significant about the story. Her recollection of the father and his son sleeping in a public bathroom, because they had nowhere else to go, and the break neck speeed the father kept up throughout the movie. When the cameras honed in on his face, and his silent tears slowly fell, my well clothed comfortable gut felt ike it was lying on the bathroom floor next to him.
Early in the movie I noticed everything seemed to move too quickly, almost frantically, and I think this portrayed two things; the man's desperation to care for his son, and the atmosphere of the workplace of stockbroker trading.
Because this story is about a real person, I have to watch it again, so I can remember the face of someone who hung on to his dream, no matter what got in the way of it. His expression when he realized he had done it, wiped away the desperation he let himself think of only a moment on the bathroom floor, before he took the next uncertain step forward to the freedom of reaching his goal.
At the risk of repeating myself, but hoping you'll understand, let me tell you of a time in my life, and one simple decision that made, and continues to bring about tremendous good for at least four generations. I'm convinced much of what we do has little to do with ourselves, even though in our limited thinking, we might not agree at the time we make a decision, or do something.
Daughter, Barb had come to Denver, from eloping to North Dakota. The other members of our family were still down in Texas, where I longed for something better for all of us, and I was more than a little upset, about not knowing anything about a son inlaw I hadn't even met. So I figured out a way to get to Denver, while hoping God understood that I lied about younger daughter Bev's age. It was the only way we'd have enough money for the trip. (Bev's at "Scratchin' the Surface").
I considered seeing if there were Postal job openings, since both my husband and I worked for it, but the son inlaw's work hours made it hard to do, and soon the days were almost gone, and the next morning little Bev and I would board a greyhound back to Texas.
At first I told myself she and I should at least see part of Denver, before leaving it. But something in me, perhaps like the "Happyness" father felt, a glimmering hope no stronger then than the legs of a newborn calf stretched itself out, and I found a bus that would take us to the downtown Denver post office.
Bev and I didn't do any sightseeing the rest of that day, that mostly began when I left her standing outside the postmaster's office door, pointing out probably too many times, for her to not talk with anyone while she waited there for me. I didn't know if it was alright to bring a child to a job interview.
The Post Master asked me one question: Did I know how to sort mail by hand. Recently they had initiated using letter sorting machines, but still needed people like me who worked the mail before the LSM was invented.
I told the PM to talk with my old boss, and they'd see I was a good employee, and he did, and while you're at it, I said to him, to talk with them about my husband who is a mail man. "He's a very good carrier". So Bev and I walked out of the building, where I stopped a minute to wipe the finger printing stuff off my hands, and I knew where we'd go next. Tourists carry cameras, even little cheap ones. So I found a streetside mail box, and got Bev to capture the moment I realized we were coming to Denver. Of course, I would need to convince her father of this, but once a dream takes flight, there is no keeping it down.
I still have that picture. It's edges are almost as wrinkled as me, and when I need courage propped up stronger than I feel it is at the time, I take a long look at the young woman I was then, and think of all the mental mountains I've climbed, and though I felt alone in it then, realize Someone was at my side, and think how proud God must have been when, in spite of my many failures and wrongs, once in a while, I made a decision that has caused all the difference.
Do you have one, and if you do, I hope it's a very big one. When I die, whenever that is, please bury me someplace there's a great view of this town, but until then, I have other dreams and goals to pursue that began on a greyhound to Denver.
Saturday, July 07, 2007
The Happiness Trail.
The other day I wrote about America and me sharing our birthdays. and after seeing our Old Glory proudly waving each time I'm another year older, you'd think by now I'd be used to it, but I'm not. The truth of it is, I am quite happy while waving our flag.
This year when my birthday calendar rolled over again, I wrote about not just the rights our Declaration of Independence spells out, but the responsibility and gratitude we will always owe it.
More than any other part of the Declaration, we're probably more familiar with the "life, liberty and pursuit of happiness part of it. But comfort zones, even the ones we carry around in our heads don't do much more than that, But they keep us from ever finding out how powerful our faith and mental valor is.
This year someone gave me a DVD movie for my birthday, and told me they were sure I would enjoy watching it. So I did, and "The Pursuit of Happyness" was so good I almost used up a box of tissues while watching it.
It was the American Dream all over again. The father and son in it didn't clear fertile land, or fight off wild animals almost bare handed. But they did take on challenges and odds I hope you and I never have to war with. What got them through was the same sprit and determination, and reaching for a dream that early Americans brought here with them., and their willingness to put up with whatever they had to, to accomplish them.
When the movie ended, and my tears had dried a little, I understood something better than I had before. As important as the man in the movies' reasons for succeeding were, and they were; the trail he followed with his little son, and all that happened on it, was just as valuable to them. and the next time I am walking on a very scarey trail, I will remember that.
This year when my birthday calendar rolled over again, I wrote about not just the rights our Declaration of Independence spells out, but the responsibility and gratitude we will always owe it.
More than any other part of the Declaration, we're probably more familiar with the "life, liberty and pursuit of happiness part of it. But comfort zones, even the ones we carry around in our heads don't do much more than that, But they keep us from ever finding out how powerful our faith and mental valor is.
This year someone gave me a DVD movie for my birthday, and told me they were sure I would enjoy watching it. So I did, and "The Pursuit of Happyness" was so good I almost used up a box of tissues while watching it.
It was the American Dream all over again. The father and son in it didn't clear fertile land, or fight off wild animals almost bare handed. But they did take on challenges and odds I hope you and I never have to war with. What got them through was the same sprit and determination, and reaching for a dream that early Americans brought here with them., and their willingness to put up with whatever they had to, to accomplish them.
When the movie ended, and my tears had dried a little, I understood something better than I had before. As important as the man in the movies' reasons for succeeding were, and they were; the trail he followed with his little son, and all that happened on it, was just as valuable to them. and the next time I am walking on a very scarey trail, I will remember that.
Wednesday, July 04, 2007
A Birthday Reminder
Because I was born on this day of the year that so represents our country, when it comes around again, I celebrate not only surviving 365 more days of life, but this one of a kind, no other like it anywhere in the world, United States of America.
I don't always celebrate in the usual style, by slicing a cake, and letting someone sing Happy Birthday to me. At the risk of seeming a little odd, I honestly prefer a good old Texas water melon, to all those carbs in a pretty cake.
I also do something else a little differently. While most folks make resolutions at the start of a calendar year, I like to review the one that's leaving, and promise myself some improvement in the days ahead.
But this year I'm especially nostalgic, not only for growing older, but remembering part of the past, and the best place I could find to do this was in old history books. Do you realize that about eighty years ago women were not allowed to vote? And closer to our modern time, females didn't hold secretarial jobs. Eventually they were allowed to help elect our leaders, and World War II changed the work scene much, by allowing the weaker sex to build ships.
But I'm getting ahead of myself. What I started to say is when birthdays come around, I make resolutions to live the next one better than the last. I don't kid myself about losing twenty pounds, or saving more money, or breaking old habits, like stopping smoking. I've already done some of those things. What I'm aiming for now is more nonascetic, like taking time to gaze at more sunsets, and eat ice cream more often. I also feel a growing need to choose a different kind of work. Good workers shouldn't be burdened with unreasonable bosses. My number one resolution this time around is to find one who isn't. Do you sense a little of my fierce independence surfacing here.
Life must be more than working and eating, and paying the rent, but it costs. The bounty our country offers all of us does have a price. Before this fourth of July ends, more fine young American men and even some women may pour out their blood to protect yours and mine. A soldier said it best: Freedom isn't free." We need to appreciate that. One way to do it is to get soldiers' addresses from a post daughter, Barb, at A Chelsea Morning, shared today, and send them care packages.
Times like this we read many quotes from our history, especially from The Declaration of Independence. But I think we need to remember what those who signed it said, and handed to us to keep safe for future generations. A small group of people barely surviving in an untamed land, lay their courage on the ground against the power of the English Crown. This is what they said:
And for the support of this declaration, with a firm reliance on the protection of Divine Providence, WE MUTALLY PLEDGE To EACH OTHER OUR LIVES, OUR FORTUNES, AND OUR SACRED HONOR."
Happy Birthday my America.
I don't always celebrate in the usual style, by slicing a cake, and letting someone sing Happy Birthday to me. At the risk of seeming a little odd, I honestly prefer a good old Texas water melon, to all those carbs in a pretty cake.
I also do something else a little differently. While most folks make resolutions at the start of a calendar year, I like to review the one that's leaving, and promise myself some improvement in the days ahead.
But this year I'm especially nostalgic, not only for growing older, but remembering part of the past, and the best place I could find to do this was in old history books. Do you realize that about eighty years ago women were not allowed to vote? And closer to our modern time, females didn't hold secretarial jobs. Eventually they were allowed to help elect our leaders, and World War II changed the work scene much, by allowing the weaker sex to build ships.
But I'm getting ahead of myself. What I started to say is when birthdays come around, I make resolutions to live the next one better than the last. I don't kid myself about losing twenty pounds, or saving more money, or breaking old habits, like stopping smoking. I've already done some of those things. What I'm aiming for now is more nonascetic, like taking time to gaze at more sunsets, and eat ice cream more often. I also feel a growing need to choose a different kind of work. Good workers shouldn't be burdened with unreasonable bosses. My number one resolution this time around is to find one who isn't. Do you sense a little of my fierce independence surfacing here.
Life must be more than working and eating, and paying the rent, but it costs. The bounty our country offers all of us does have a price. Before this fourth of July ends, more fine young American men and even some women may pour out their blood to protect yours and mine. A soldier said it best: Freedom isn't free." We need to appreciate that. One way to do it is to get soldiers' addresses from a post daughter, Barb, at A Chelsea Morning, shared today, and send them care packages.
Times like this we read many quotes from our history, especially from The Declaration of Independence. But I think we need to remember what those who signed it said, and handed to us to keep safe for future generations. A small group of people barely surviving in an untamed land, lay their courage on the ground against the power of the English Crown. This is what they said:
And for the support of this declaration, with a firm reliance on the protection of Divine Providence, WE MUTALLY PLEDGE To EACH OTHER OUR LIVES, OUR FORTUNES, AND OUR SACRED HONOR."
Happy Birthday my America.
Sunday, July 01, 2007
CWO, A Blessed Sisterhood.
Yesterday morning both of my daughters, Barb at "A Chelsea Morning, and Bev at "Scratchin' the Surface", were almost doing back over flips, as they emailed me that CWO had chosen Flight Song" for Blog of the Month.Twenty-four hours later I still don't know which of the three of us is the happiest about this, but I can surely tell you who was the most surprised. So thank you, Darlene, for this honor I so appreciate, but thank you more than that, for this blessed sisterhood.
