Three Dog Night,Teenage Girls, Coffee, A Book and My Bible

Happy Labor Day readers!  I haven't blogged since May 2012....that's a long time.  I wish I could say it was because I had taken a refreshing and exotic sabbatical somewhere exciting, but no.  Nothing exciting, nothing traumatic, nothing even slightly dramatic.  I just haven't felt like writing.  Weird, huh?  To enjoy writing and to not even want to do it for over a year.  I've been tossing the idea of picking up pen, er, keyboard, after encouragement from some friends and family.  But just wasn't feeling it until today.  I'm not sure what has changed, but there you go...I'm at least writing today.  Or maybe writing is stretching it...just putting jumbled thoughts into jumbled words is what it feels like sometimes.

I feel like I'm one of the few people in my small town not swimming in a lake or pool or dove hunting today. I'm relaxing at home with a ton of laundry.  woohoo!  I hope your Labor Day is a tad (or alot!) more fun than mine.  Since my oldest daughter is working at the hospital today, I shan't complain of my underwhelming day off.  I've had teenage girls in and out of my home all week, and I wouldn't have it any other way.  I think I thrive on the chaos.  I realize that time slips by so quickly, and before you know it, my baby will be away at college, and the silence will be deafening here.  So I'm enjoying never knowing who will walk through my door at any given time.

Maybe you think the first part of my blog title, "Three Dog Night..." refers to my beloved three canines. Most days I would say yes, but today, I was actually listening to Three Dog Night (can  you say throwback?) and reflecting on the lyrics to "One is the Loneliest Number".  For those younger than me, the beginning goes "One is the loneliest number that you'll ever do, two can be as bad as one, it's the loneliest number since the number one".  I've been thinking about loneliness.  It's a recurring theme in my life right now.  And not just because I'm single.  Single people do NOT have the cornerstone on loneliness. Some of my loneliest moments have been with one or more people. Can I hear an amen?  We all have seasons of loneliness in our lives.  You can be lonely in your marriage, lonely in your job, your church, your group of friends.  I do happen to be divorced and single, which does contribute to alot of the loneliness I feel.  But I can't blame my relationship status on this season of loneliness. This morning, I was reading out of a book entitled "When Women Walk Alone", and as I was working through some of the questions, I realized that alot of my loneliness stems from the restlessness I feel within my own life and soul.  I'm 50....a great age for reflection. My life hasn't turned out like I dreamed it would be...but isn't that the case for many of us?  At different ages and stages of life? Don't get me wrong...I love life.  I treasure those in my life, I relish the good times, I've learned through the bad times. My life often is full and rich. But loneliness is an inevitable part of life.  I would imagine that my friends who have gone through rehabilitation for addictions, battled cancer, widowhood, divorce, the stress of a new job or moving to a new city, worrying about a rebellious child, supporting a depressed spouse, being caretaker to an aging parent, sick child or spouse, the list could go on and on.  How many teenagers feel alone in a crowded high school hallway?  Maybe you just march to a different beat than "the norm" (whatever THAT is) or you haven't found your calling or niche in life, and it seems everyone else has. This bible study book isn't written for single women, it addresses the lonely seasons of life we go through.  One of the sentences I read this morning: "Look at loneliness as a part of life, and at the seasons of aloneness as the pieces of one big puzzle designed to make us long for God."  Ouch.  I haven't exactly been using this season to long for God in a deeper way.  Remember when your teacher gave you busy work in school? We've all done that word search or crossword puzzle without thinking.  That's what I've been guilty of...filling the void without thinking. For some of us, we fill the void with a substance or relationships.  For me, I tend to lean towards too many activities and food (the food issue can be an entire different blog).  I allow work, motherhood, shopping, lunches with friends, volunteering to do this or that,  errands, reading, even chores and laundry to try and fill the void.  The busier I am, the more I sometimes think the void is filled.  So, I've decided that I need to think a little more...not just any ol' thinking...but to dwell on the One who made me.  I need to ask God to fill the void in these alone moments.  What can I learn?  What is He trying to show me or teach me?  What am I  missing when I simply fill these moments with activities?

So this morning, I listened to Three Dog Night as I drank my coffee, and when I put my book away, I pulled out my Bible and went to 1 John 5:14-15....the verses that reassure us that whatever we ask according to His will, He hears.  I asked God to fill my void.  I asked Him to show me what I am supposed to learn in this season.  I still have busy activites today...that's unavoidable. My dryer buzzer is about to go off, I have supplies laid out for a fall craft project, I have a meal to prepare later today.  However, my challenge for myself is to learn from this season, and to long more for the One who made. me.

Thanks Gran'mom

This weekend I lost my paternal grandmother....known to me as "Gran'mom".  She was 94 years, and I am privileged to have shared this world with her for 49 of those years.

It has been full of emotion:  lots of tears, smiles and laughter as I have thought about her. I grieve having to let her go, but I am thankful for the long and full life she lived.  There will be more emotions and memories in the days to come, as we will travel to Texas for a memorial service, and then have a later burial at the National Cemetery in Little Rock.  The days will be full of sadness as we grieve our loss, but also of joy and celebration over the life she lived.

I've thought about all the many things I learned from my grandmother, and I've realized how richer my life is because of her impact on me.

My grandmother taught me that family is important.  She placed her family above all else.
My grandmother taught me that time is valuable....especially time invested with family. She took time to read to us, play with us, take us places. She took the time to travel from Arkansas to Texas if we were in an important sporting event, play, concert or recital.
My grandmother taught me that support of those you love is crucial.  She supported me all throughout my life...whether I was experiencing success or failure...I always knew she was in my corner.
My grandmother taught me history...family history and American history.  She loved sharing about her life and all she had seen and experienced.  She was at the Hindenberg landing when it crashed, she lived through her husband fighting in World War II and the Korean War. My grandfather loved genealogy, and they both loved sharing family history and pictures with us.  I didn't appreciate it much at age 16, but I treasure it now at age 49. I love the treasure trove of her life experiences she has shared with me.
My grandmother taught me to love your work....be it paid or volunteer.  She was so proud to be a nurse, and even as a little girl, I knew my grandmother loved what she did at the hospital.  When it came time for her to retire, she became a "pink lady"...a hospital volunteer.  She loved that too, and was dedicated to her volunteer days. For years, she was a Sunday School teacher, and she loved doing that as well. I fully believe staying busy contributed to her long life.
My grandmother taught me to love celebrations.  She LOVED holidays, especially Christmas and July 4th.  I remember as a kid loving her house at Christmas time.  For years, my grandparents held a July 4th party at their house, and they would be dressed in red, white and blue from head to toe, grilling for everyone in the neighborhood.  She decorated her home for each holiday, and truly embraced that day or season.  Her love of celebrations included birthdays, awards ceremonies, graduations, weddings, anniversaries, retirement parties.  She believed in celebrating YOU. 
My grandmother taught me to love knowledge.  She read all the time, for fun and for learning.  She worked a crossword puzzle everyday that I can remember.  She watched documentaries and must have passed on that trait to my dad, who then passed it on to me.  We both love them too.
My grandmother taught me the joy of giving....whether it be a material gift, the gift of time, or the gift of attention.  She loved to give.  It didn't matter if the gift came from the dollar store or a department store...when she gave it to you, presentation was everything....and that gift was special.  Although I received many gifts from her over the years, it is the gift of her time and attention that I cherish the most.
My grandmother taught me patriotism.  She loved our country, and she was proud that my grandfather was military and fought in two wars.  She taught me that Veterans Day, Memorial Day and July 4th had more meaning and significance than a picnic or a sale at the mall.  She and my grandfather had a flag pole in their front yard, and proudly raised and lowered that flag each day, folding it reverently and carefully.  She shared with me the importance of voting, and knowing why you voted.  She worked the polls for several years.
My grandmother taught me to have fun.  She loved a board game, a card game, sports, museums, picnics, parades, going to the movies, going to the zoo, shopping, swimming.  And the beach...oh my, she loved the beach. I think each generation in our family...from her children, to her grandchildren, to her great-grandchildren can all say that she has worn us out before.  Until age finally won, her energy seemed boundless.
My grandmother taught me the love of correspondence.  Okay, that might sound strange to you, but she did.  Over the years, I received many cards and small notes from her in the mail. And I love to send cards and notes to my own friends as well.  She had an overflowing address book spanning from family to childhood friends to friends she met as an adult.  And she actually corresponded with them...dropping letters and cards in the mail.  I remember often going with her as a little girl to the post office.  I thought it was so much fun to buy stamps with her and drop mail into the big blue box.  She loved jokes and riddles, often your card would be stuffed with those kind of things, as well as newspaper clippings that she simply found interesting.  I loved getting them in the mail, and my daughters did also.  We recently received a card in the mail with clippings of riddles for us...only she had forgotten to send the answers, and all three of us were stumped.  She laughed over that, and a week later, we received more riddles...this time with answers included in case we were stumped again.
My grandmother taught me to revere children.  She loved being a grandmother, and loved her time with each of us. She took the time to get to know you...she didn't wait until you were an adult.  Later, as she became a great-grandmother, I saw her do the same with that generation.  All of her great grandkids loved going to her house as much as we did. She would converse intently, both talking to and listening to, a child on her knee as much as the adult in the room.  I've often thought she preferred the conversation with a child more than the conversation with the adult.  My own children would race into her house, first for a hug, then straight to a large suitcase full of dress-up clothes and a kids' room full of toys and games. So many of my favorite pictures are ones where my own children and their cousins are playing in her living room.
My grandmother taught me to pay attention.  I didn't always appreciate, especially as a teenager, if I was visiting with her, and the tv was tuned to the Lawrence Welk Show.  But I sat through many espisodes with her over the years.  She not only liked her music, but would find out who I liked and listened to.  Every Christmas one of my gifts from her would a favorite album that I was wanting. And when I finally got to see Rod Stewart in concert many years later, she was just as excited as I was.  She may not have liked his music, but she had paid attention and shortened the generation gap. When my oldest daughter went through her "boy band" phase, my grandmother would talk to her about the Backstreet Boys and N'Sync.  With my younger daughter, she knew who Lizzie McGuire and the Cheetah Girls were. How many great-grandmothers pay attention to pop culture?  Two years ago, at Christmas, she put a crazy bow on her head and called herself Lady Gaga.  Yep...that was my Gran'mom.
My grandmother taught me that life is always changing...and you have to change with it.  Adapt to the new normal, embrace and remember the past, but don't get stuck there.  Learn from your mistakes and move on.  Failure is as much a part of life as success is.  Look forward to each new adventure with anticipation.  Wake up each morning thankful for a new day and the wonders it holds.  However, even though she taught me that life is always changing, she also taught me that love for family never does.  That should always remain the same....steadfast, loyal, pure, and deep.

Thank you, Gran'mom....for always loving me, always embracing me, always listening to me and talking with me.   Thank you for enriching my life.

Always Look for the Beauty

I took this picture of my redbud tree recently on an extremely gloomy day.  The tiny purplish pink flowers are really showy on a sunny day, but something about them on that gloomy day brightened my spirits.

Thankfully, at the age of 48, I've learned some lessons in life.  One of them is to always look for the beauty. Life can be hard at times, and people can be difficult.  It's easy to be controlled by our emotions or our circumstances.  When life is going smooth, we feel good.  Then life throws us a curve, and that "feeling good" emotion flies out the window.

Our emotions change, our circumstances change, our relationships change, people around us change, WE change.  God never does. Can I hear an "Amen"?  And I've learned that when I take the time to open my eyes and REALLY look, I can often find beauty, on a gloomy day or in a gloomy situation.

Yesterday, we had a beautiful spring day...the sun was shining, the air was warm, everything around was blooming.  Something as simple as opening my sunroof and riding around on my lunch break, singing old Motown along with the radio, made me appreciate the beauty of a spring day.

Beauty can be found, and usually is, in some of the smallest things in life.  And sometimes, in order to see the small and the simple things in life, we have to ask God to open our eyes.  Maybe our beauty for the day is when we open the mailbox and in the middle of a pile of bills, we recognize the handwriting on an envelope and it's a card or letter from a friend.  I saw real beauty when my friend, Vicki, would take homebaked goodies to the nurses and staff at the oncology center where SHE was receiving chemo.  The medicine that both healed her and poisoned her.....would make her feel like poo for days and days, and in spite of that, she would show up, bald headed but beautiful....with a smile on her face and sugary homemade sweetness for the folks taking care of her.

Beauty can be found in the routine and ordinary, such as a  friend bringing you your favorite drink from Sonic on a busy day at work.."one large unsweet tea with lemon, thank you".  Sometimes it's as big as when friends call you and say "I have an extra fridge and I hear yours isn't cooling.  Would you be interested in ours?"   Maybe your beauty to look for is as small as smile from a stranger, or a blooming flower on a gloomy day.

I've seen beauty when friends "show up" for one another.....whether it's a hug, a shoulder to cry on, someone who will sit with you in the hospital, talk with you all night long if you need to, feed you when you're sick.

I've seen beauty in my daughters....when I hear from others how they impact their lives, what kind of friend they are, how they interact at school and work, respectively.

I think that opening our eyes to the beauty in people and in life, and in the blessings that God gives us, is something we have to actively practice.  It's too easy to get preoccupied with the busyness of life sometimes for us to see beauty around us.  Our lives are fast paced and chaotic, who has time to stop and smell the roses?  Or maybe our life is in turmoil at the present....bad things DO happen.  People get sick, jobs can be stressful, sometimes jobs are lost, bills pile up, our kids struggle, relationships get messy or go away, addictions are real.  Maybe we are in such pain that we don't ever think we can see the beauty in life again.  Maybe that mountain looming in front of you is so big that you don't see the small flowers blooming on it, or the trickling brook beside it.  But the beauty really IS there.  God always provides beauty and blessings...even in the middle of the very dark and the very yucky stuff in life.

Ash Wednesday

Today is Ash Wednesday, a day of repentence and recognizing the need for forgiveness, also-the beginning of the Lenten season, a time of prayer and reflecting on the sacrifice of Christ, and the anticipation towards the Resurrection.  Growing up Southern Baptist, I was pretty naive on worship, liturgical rites and practices within other Christian denominations...well into my early 20s, I'm ashamed to say. My home church didn't have an Ash Wednesday service, and very few practiced observing Lent.  Nowadays, I know many Baptists who observe Lent.
I wake up now each Ash Wednesday, smiling and chuckling over the year that I said to a co-worker "Oh come here, you've got some dirt smudged on your forehead" as I tried to wipe it off.  The look on her face was priceless as she explained Ash Wednesday to me, and I'll never forget the group around us with their jaws agape (over my ignorance).  She didn't run away from my friendship (thankfully) and we're still friends today (if only on Facebook because we live in different towns).  In my defense, I think her cross of ashes may have been a little smudged...but really, there is no defense.  I was just ignorant.
I remember that year realizing I had alot of learning to do about the diversity of Christian worship....and so I began to pay more attention to the different ways my friends worshipped, and it has been a rich and rewarding experience as I have grown.  I have been in a small group of ladies for several years now, and we are diverse...yet the same.  We are different ages, come from different backgrounds, are at various lifestages, worship in different denominations.  And yet, we come together and we share, we study and we grow. We also laugh hyserterically and at the same time are comfortable with one another's tears.  We rejoice together and we mourn together.  We lift each other up.  We strive to be more Christlike together.  We recognize each other's humanity, struggles and fears, and we just seem to embrace one another all the more.  I have grown tremendously from the different perspectives we all bring to the group when we do a study.  They challenge me and bless me continually.
So today, I have my Ash Wednesday smile as I remember the year I realized I had alot to learn.  And I smile bigger still, because one thing age and life has taught me, is that I STILL have alot to learn. Let me re-emphasize...STILL ALOT TO LEARN.  I certainly don't have it all together, I'm often a mess. I've also been reflecting this morning on areas in my life in which I need repentance and forgiveness.Hmmm..there's ALOT there too.  I'm thankful for this season of sacrifice and for the ultimate sacrifice of Christ...I am thankful that God is a God of renewal and forgiveness...of second and third and fourth (and so on and so on) chances.  I am thankful for FORGIVENESS, GRACE and MERCY...and I am thankful for all of my "soul sistahs", near and far, ones from my past and my current ones, who have helped me grow by showing me that diversity can lead to unity in Christ.

Beauty from Ashes

The girls and I made a quick trip to Memphis tonight for dinner and shopping.  We had to take a different route on the way back home to avoid a traffic jam.  I found myself driving a road I had not driven in about a year.  As the memories of a year ago came flooding over me, I had to smile and I had to thank God for being my Healer and my Counselor.
It was during this very season last year that I was going through the most painful time of my life to date...the end of my 23 year old marriage.   At the encouragement of my family counselor, I sought out a DivorceCare recovery group at a church in Memphis.  Every Tuesday night, I would make the 45 minute drive to this support group...where I met a roomful of both women and men, going through the same devastation, rejection and broken dreams that I was going through.  Our circumstances led us to form a tight knit bond throughout those 12 weeks.  I saw that I wasn't the only one hurting so deeply, and in that room full of raw emotional wounds and pain, I found God's healing power in a way that I had never known.
I remember feeling and thinking that the wounds would never heal, and that I would never be the same as I had before.  Well, the truth is....I can honestly say that the wounds do heal...some of them have definitely healed, some are still healing.  It is also true that I will never be the same again, and I am now okay with that.  I am better than "okay" with that.  I have learned so much about the depth and power of God's faithfulness, His healing, His mercies and His grace. Yes, my wounds have healed...and there are scars.  But the scars to me are not something to be sad over, they are something to rejoice over.  
Back to the road I was driving on earlier tonight....as I said, it was a year ago that I would drive that road.  It was a year ago that I could barely see the road for my tears.  It was a year ago that I sat in the church parking lot, terrified to take that first step into the group...terrified to open my soul to strangers.  It was a year ago that I was racked by sobs in that same parking lot...beating my steering wheel out of sheer frustration at what I could not control.  It was a year ago that I faithfully made that drive, walked up that long staircase into the room with a group of strangers with whom I would find trust, honesty and healing.  Fast forward to this evening and I am driving that road with a smile on my face.   I am remembering all the people who told me that yes, I would get through this, and that I would be find peace and happiness again.  I am remembering all the times I made that drive when I would say aloud "God, I believe You are healing me...I don't feel it, but I believe it, and I trust in it." In the next breath I would cry out "When God, when????!!!! When will I ever stop hurting?"
I had to walk through the fire....I had to face the pain.  It hurt, it was ugly, it was deep, it was raw, it was demanding, it was tiring and it was VERY long.  I still have steps to take. But as I drove tonight laughing, singing, talking with the girls....I was reminded that beauty DOES come from ashes. I have the beauty of a deeper relationship with the Lord.  I feel as if all of my relationships have deepened.  My heart is no longer heavy...and THAT is beauty.

The Spirit of the Lord GOD is upon Me...
To comfort all who mourn, To console those who mourn...
To give them beauty for ashes, The oil of joy for mourning,
The garment of praise for the spirit of heaviness.  Isaiah 61:2-3