Another Angela tidbit, I am a sucker for a happy ending. I want everyone to get all the things they want from life. And I want them to be happy. Whether it is a tangible item or friendships or education. I want all the people to be happy. Unfortunately, or fortunately, we do not get all the things we want in this life. Around the corners and through every passageway situations arise that may change our course or our desires, and not always do we meet these with expectation. In fact. More often these are not anticipated...
I get so swept up in the experiences of life. I engage fully, which, frankly, leads to utter exhaustion, but the rewards far outweigh the cost. One can never be fulfilled by sideline living. It is one precious life and we should always pursue it, so I never apologize for that.
I've considered some challenging aspects lately, and I've considered all the possible results. (Side note to all my non perfectionist peeps, we perfectionists replay life. A lot.) I have mentally viewed the finish line. There could be several so it has been very time consuming, but I dutifully apply my happy ending principle. I'm hopeful it will be happy and all the parties will want to have a party, but I ponder the corners and passageways between here and there. I stop to worry. Then I worry a whole lot more. And then it hits me....
No story is good if the ending is known. There is no skipping to the last page of the book. You might as well just burn those glorious ink filled pages if you plan to do that. The true story is the journey. The following along page by page as the hero begins to learn and see himself as the hero. And no matter the ending, which of course I wait with every breath for it to be happy, the process defines him. The process. The journey. Life. Challenges. Corners. Joys. Passageways.
Spoken like a true girl, I hope everything is a fairytale. I hope all your dreams come true. But when they do not. When the corners catch you off guard, when the path ahead is shrouded from view and you feel a little less certain about proceeding, remember it's the journey, the discovery, that counts. It is the story of your life. Everyone gets to be the hero in their own story. Page by page. Write it well.
Friday, October 28, 2016
Saturday, October 22, 2016
Goodbye
Do you know who you are? Can you describe yourself in clear, direct and honest terms? I think everyone should not only be able to do so, but be willing.
There are areas in which I am quite proficient, and I can easily list those, but I can also just as easily list the areas that are a struggle. For the love, let us not discuss engines, computer programming, equations, the periodic table, or Minecraft. None of us will have an enjoyable time if this is as interesting as the conversation will get. By far though, my most unmarketable skill, is the art of saying "goodbye." I don't even like temporary ones. I drag out all the evenings and events just to avoid those final moments. Can't we all just be together all the days? I will never get any better at this process. Perhaps someone could offer a class. Perhaps there are some strategies that could be imparted. I'm open to suggestions. I need all the help.
Personally, though, I do not believe it gets any easier with time or exposure. If you love big. If you love deeply. Goodbyes will always be painful. Life is filled with so much uncertainty, but love can be a north star, and when it is time to go, love makes us want to stay. And it is in these moments that I find myself without words. The very thing that is as natural as breathing and I am at a loss. In the movies, eloquence is most poignant at goodbye, but in real life I find it just is not the case. I trust that those I love can read my heart. And in it they see all the words I cannot express.
I've witnessed beauty in final goodbyes. I have heard heartfelt tributes. I have seen immeasurable pain overshadowed by hope. Hope is a gift.
Goodbye. It is likely the most difficult word in our concept of communication. Audible. Or not. Goodbye. Whether goodbye for days, weeks, a season, or a lifetime. It is the closing of a chapter of time. So we wait. Anxiously. For the day when the word "goodbye" no longer holds any sway...
There are areas in which I am quite proficient, and I can easily list those, but I can also just as easily list the areas that are a struggle. For the love, let us not discuss engines, computer programming, equations, the periodic table, or Minecraft. None of us will have an enjoyable time if this is as interesting as the conversation will get. By far though, my most unmarketable skill, is the art of saying "goodbye." I don't even like temporary ones. I drag out all the evenings and events just to avoid those final moments. Can't we all just be together all the days? I will never get any better at this process. Perhaps someone could offer a class. Perhaps there are some strategies that could be imparted. I'm open to suggestions. I need all the help.
Personally, though, I do not believe it gets any easier with time or exposure. If you love big. If you love deeply. Goodbyes will always be painful. Life is filled with so much uncertainty, but love can be a north star, and when it is time to go, love makes us want to stay. And it is in these moments that I find myself without words. The very thing that is as natural as breathing and I am at a loss. In the movies, eloquence is most poignant at goodbye, but in real life I find it just is not the case. I trust that those I love can read my heart. And in it they see all the words I cannot express.
I've witnessed beauty in final goodbyes. I have heard heartfelt tributes. I have seen immeasurable pain overshadowed by hope. Hope is a gift.
Goodbye. It is likely the most difficult word in our concept of communication. Audible. Or not. Goodbye. Whether goodbye for days, weeks, a season, or a lifetime. It is the closing of a chapter of time. So we wait. Anxiously. For the day when the word "goodbye" no longer holds any sway...
Saturday, October 15, 2016
Escape
Have you ever longed for a momentary escape? A way to ease the troubles of today? Perhaps it is a cup of coffee. Perhaps it is a sport. Perhaps it is a phone call to a mentor. Perhaps it is as simple as a hug from a friend. We each reach for an outlet when the stressors of our life have overloaded our capacity to deal.
Few things make me happier than blankets, hugs, candles, scarves and books. Separately or collectively,it is a recipe for safety and contentment. As a child, I would read for hours upon hours, devouring every book I could get my hands on. I could wholly lose myself in the story, and, often, I would wish myself to different times and places for I was convinced that I was not born in the right era. In fact, to some degree, I still think that might true.
My favorite story, although not a chapter book, was, "The Twelve Dancing Princesses." I checked that book out of the Canal Fulton Library so many times they should have let me keep it. I never tired of reading about the journey the beautiful Princesses took by boat and land through forests of gold and silver to dance all night in a palace across the way. I wasn't allowed to dance, and it sounded so magical and lovely and beautiful. A forest of gold and people twirling and laughing. All these years later, I can close my eyes and still see those illustrations, and it takes me right back to the feeling of magic. I'm not too old to want to twirl and laugh in a forest of gold. Quite unfortunately, I still do not know the first thing about dancing, but if I found that book at the local library, in no time I could be a dancing princess.
I will forever be devoted to words. To the power of writing. To the wonders of reading. It has been a lifelong solace. Can I encourage you to find life in paper and bindings and ink? To hear the heart of another? To imagine a different place? To dream?
It really is a momentary escape. A relief of the stressors that threaten to waylay our souls. Perhaps try it with a cup of coffee alongside a mentor who plays sports.
Few things make me happier than blankets, hugs, candles, scarves and books. Separately or collectively,it is a recipe for safety and contentment. As a child, I would read for hours upon hours, devouring every book I could get my hands on. I could wholly lose myself in the story, and, often, I would wish myself to different times and places for I was convinced that I was not born in the right era. In fact, to some degree, I still think that might true.
My favorite story, although not a chapter book, was, "The Twelve Dancing Princesses." I checked that book out of the Canal Fulton Library so many times they should have let me keep it. I never tired of reading about the journey the beautiful Princesses took by boat and land through forests of gold and silver to dance all night in a palace across the way. I wasn't allowed to dance, and it sounded so magical and lovely and beautiful. A forest of gold and people twirling and laughing. All these years later, I can close my eyes and still see those illustrations, and it takes me right back to the feeling of magic. I'm not too old to want to twirl and laugh in a forest of gold. Quite unfortunately, I still do not know the first thing about dancing, but if I found that book at the local library, in no time I could be a dancing princess.
I will forever be devoted to words. To the power of writing. To the wonders of reading. It has been a lifelong solace. Can I encourage you to find life in paper and bindings and ink? To hear the heart of another? To imagine a different place? To dream?
It really is a momentary escape. A relief of the stressors that threaten to waylay our souls. Perhaps try it with a cup of coffee alongside a mentor who plays sports.
Monday, October 10, 2016
Beauty
I've been enjoying a delicious, laid back, long weekend with some members of my tribe. I got to laugh. A lot. Tears were shed, but the diet coke stayed on the right course south. I walked through fallen leaves. I felt the soft drizzle of rain and watched it pelt the smooth waters of the lake and be effortlessly absorbed. Ping. Ping. As it hit the docks. No other sounds. Quiet. Stillness. Rain washes away the pain in the soul. Did you know that? Stand in the rain sometime. When your soul hurts. When you feel lonely or confused. Stand in the rain and turn up your face. I promise you will feel better.
I rode through some beautiful, breathtaking country. Such deep red fall colors that are certainly reserved for this part of the country alone. As I passed through God's art room, these were my thoughts... Beauty is often said to be defined by the beholder. I suppose that statement is true. Each person has a different eye for what is attractive. As women, it is almost certainly written into our DNA to want to be beautiful. Not all women like makeup, perfume and the whole bit, but almost all want to feel beautiful in some way to someone.
I struggled with this very idea for a good portion of my formative years. I was taught that vanity is a sin. God made you just the way he wanted you. If he wanted holes in your ears he would have put them there. Modesty is the most important thing you can wear, and that does not include anything that shows the shape of your legs and possibly your arms. Inwardly, I so wanted to be beautiful but felt that must surely mean I didn't want to be good. I coveted the earrings of my third grade best friend. She had a whole box full of them and when I stayed at her house I was so excited to help her pick out which ones to wear. I wanted them. So bad I could taste it. I didn't truly see how wearing something in my ears made me less good. I didn't understand those rules, and, frankly, even at nine, I didn't think anyone else did either.
Despite the fact that I still really struggle with accepting compliments - I really think that is a gift, actually, graciously accepting a compliment and not deferring - I have been able to learn it's okay to want to be beautiful. It is not vanity to care about one's appearance. It's okay to wear earrings, God does not view you any less because He looks on the heart. Inward beauty concerns our Lord.
And, the more years I have added, the more I want to share that with others. Personality does matter. In fact, it matters more. The kindness of your heart tops that amazing scent you are wearing. (And that's saying a lot because my Spidey sense is "smell.") And those words that roll off your tongue show the true condition of your heart.
These are the things that last. This is the beauty that does not fade. Those holes in your ears will close. Those green eyes will lose their sparkle. But a beautiful heart will always be magnetic. Outward beauty is okay, even good, my young friends, but inward beauty shines forever.
I rode through some beautiful, breathtaking country. Such deep red fall colors that are certainly reserved for this part of the country alone. As I passed through God's art room, these were my thoughts... Beauty is often said to be defined by the beholder. I suppose that statement is true. Each person has a different eye for what is attractive. As women, it is almost certainly written into our DNA to want to be beautiful. Not all women like makeup, perfume and the whole bit, but almost all want to feel beautiful in some way to someone.
I struggled with this very idea for a good portion of my formative years. I was taught that vanity is a sin. God made you just the way he wanted you. If he wanted holes in your ears he would have put them there. Modesty is the most important thing you can wear, and that does not include anything that shows the shape of your legs and possibly your arms. Inwardly, I so wanted to be beautiful but felt that must surely mean I didn't want to be good. I coveted the earrings of my third grade best friend. She had a whole box full of them and when I stayed at her house I was so excited to help her pick out which ones to wear. I wanted them. So bad I could taste it. I didn't truly see how wearing something in my ears made me less good. I didn't understand those rules, and, frankly, even at nine, I didn't think anyone else did either.
Despite the fact that I still really struggle with accepting compliments - I really think that is a gift, actually, graciously accepting a compliment and not deferring - I have been able to learn it's okay to want to be beautiful. It is not vanity to care about one's appearance. It's okay to wear earrings, God does not view you any less because He looks on the heart. Inward beauty concerns our Lord.
And, the more years I have added, the more I want to share that with others. Personality does matter. In fact, it matters more. The kindness of your heart tops that amazing scent you are wearing. (And that's saying a lot because my Spidey sense is "smell.") And those words that roll off your tongue show the true condition of your heart.
These are the things that last. This is the beauty that does not fade. Those holes in your ears will close. Those green eyes will lose their sparkle. But a beautiful heart will always be magnetic. Outward beauty is okay, even good, my young friends, but inward beauty shines forever.
Wednesday, October 5, 2016
The Best Medicine
I think y'all are settling right in and getting to know me. We've mentioned things over and over. I enjoy chatting, friends, tea, rain (which is why two-tenths of my soul died in Utah), writing, laughing. I really love to laugh. The laughing-so-hard-you-can't-breathe type. Like that one time, or ten, when pop came out of my nose. It stings, actually. I can't recommend that.
Laughter is the perfect bandaid for any situation. Not that nervous laughter reserved for people who are awkward in social arenas. I mean the disarming, genuine laughter, that puts people at ease. You will instantly know when you have met someone with the unique gift for comfortable timing and well placed banter. Mark these friends. Keep them. Come some season you will need to call upon them when the days are dark. Like when your two year old is peeing on the floor and you've lost any and all knowledge of humor. I think its not even a thing when you are parenting toddlers. It comes back later though. Once the urine routinely goes in the toilet and not on the carpet.
I laugh most when I am with my tribe. The people that know me best. Over a game of Scrabble that I am always winning. Midway through cards when my "friend" goes out while I am clearly not even in my foot yet. Negative three thousand points right there. A perfect recipe for Diet Coke flavored mucous. And for all those games I won because my score keeping math skills are unrivaled, the best memories are the ones where in my mind's eye I see the faces of those I love with big smiles or eyes raining tears from unbridled laughter. For in that. Is life.
Life is meant for joy, you guys. Joy. Banter. Laughter. It's Gods best plan for us. Abundant life.
More of that, okay?
For the record. Negative three thousand points in Hand and Foot does not make me laugh.
Laughter is the perfect bandaid for any situation. Not that nervous laughter reserved for people who are awkward in social arenas. I mean the disarming, genuine laughter, that puts people at ease. You will instantly know when you have met someone with the unique gift for comfortable timing and well placed banter. Mark these friends. Keep them. Come some season you will need to call upon them when the days are dark. Like when your two year old is peeing on the floor and you've lost any and all knowledge of humor. I think its not even a thing when you are parenting toddlers. It comes back later though. Once the urine routinely goes in the toilet and not on the carpet.
I laugh most when I am with my tribe. The people that know me best. Over a game of Scrabble that I am always winning. Midway through cards when my "friend" goes out while I am clearly not even in my foot yet. Negative three thousand points right there. A perfect recipe for Diet Coke flavored mucous. And for all those games I won because my score keeping math skills are unrivaled, the best memories are the ones where in my mind's eye I see the faces of those I love with big smiles or eyes raining tears from unbridled laughter. For in that. Is life.
Life is meant for joy, you guys. Joy. Banter. Laughter. It's Gods best plan for us. Abundant life.
More of that, okay?
For the record. Negative three thousand points in Hand and Foot does not make me laugh.
Sunday, October 2, 2016
Front Porch Sitting
Do you ever just want to sit down on your front porch with a good friend, and a mug of steaming tea laced with milk and sugar? I could use that. The comfort that comes from good company and tea leaves. I think it's a shame that people are unable to just drop by anymore. I bet in the olden days, and, yes, that means way before my time if my children are reading this, I bet back then friends dropped by quite often. All this "Get out your calendar and pencil me in here" business would have been nonsense. Please. All I'm doing is gathering the eggs, feel free to interrupt that at any time.
Now. I get this life. I get the pace. It's exhausting for sure. But as I sip my tea today, I'm considering the possibility of availability. If I am more available, will I not get more out of life? More out of my relationships? The trade-off of personal fulfillment in all these areas for what....in the end? We want all our ends to be good, right? To be profitable. We want to meet our work deadlines. We want the kids to get good grades at the end of the semester. We want the end of gardening season to show well on our storage shelves. And. In the end. When we are fading. We want to be loved.
If our lives will eventually fade. If eventually we will not be a lawyer, doctor, bread maker, parent-on-demand, maybe time spent on the front porch drinking tea with a friend is time better invested. Maybe availability will serve us well. Better. Than anything else ever could.
Earl Gray. Milk. Sugar. Availability. Good, deep thoughts for a Sunday. I want to be a lover of people. That is my heart. All the other things can fade.
Now. I get this life. I get the pace. It's exhausting for sure. But as I sip my tea today, I'm considering the possibility of availability. If I am more available, will I not get more out of life? More out of my relationships? The trade-off of personal fulfillment in all these areas for what....in the end? We want all our ends to be good, right? To be profitable. We want to meet our work deadlines. We want the kids to get good grades at the end of the semester. We want the end of gardening season to show well on our storage shelves. And. In the end. When we are fading. We want to be loved.
If our lives will eventually fade. If eventually we will not be a lawyer, doctor, bread maker, parent-on-demand, maybe time spent on the front porch drinking tea with a friend is time better invested. Maybe availability will serve us well. Better. Than anything else ever could.
Earl Gray. Milk. Sugar. Availability. Good, deep thoughts for a Sunday. I want to be a lover of people. That is my heart. All the other things can fade.
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