Do you ever miss an important moment because you’re preoccupied? Something else grabs your attention: Facebook, TV, a text, or a tweet? I’ve been there too. But for me the thief is often more subtle. It’s an attitude that robs me of engaging in the now, being present in the present. Let me tell you about a moment I almost missed.

My granddaughter, Madison, was three when the rose bushes drew her in. Cupping a Barbie-pink blossom with both hands, she nestled her face into its petals. I knelt in the dirt yanking weeds that invaded my flower garden and my sense of justice. Even Madison singing my name didn’t soften my attitude.

“Meema, your woses smell so good.”

“Be careful, Madison, don’t smash it.”

The day before, I’d returned from a weekend trip to a cluttered home. Now, the overdue weeding stoked the fires of my martyrdom to a rolling boil. I have to do everything around here. I live with the laziest people on earth. And, why am I raising my granddaughter? I, the victim. I, the under-valued. I, so sweet and blessed just days ago at a women’s retreat.

Mid-pity party, I turned to see a bush half-stripped of roses. My face flushed hot.

Madison twirled. Eyes shut, head back with pony tails poking straight out, she raised her arms, palms to the sky. Rose petals fluttered from her hands and floated to the ground. A pink path meandered around the other two bushes, now nearly naked. Silky shades of pink to white blanketed the brown mulch and covered those noxious weeds that wanted to rob me of the moment.

Wobbly from her dance, Madison tried to stand still. Her blue, wide-open eyes admired her work. “Oh, Meema. Isn’t it boo-tee-ful?”

The harsh words rising up in me had already dissipated. “Yes, Madison Grace. It’s absolutely beautiful.”

Eyes off myself, I embraced God’s gentle reminder to take it all in. But I almost missed it.

Selfishness can lock us into a martyr mentality, a victim mindset. It’s an attitude that blinds us and binds us to thinking life is all about me. My comfort, my happiness. A me-centered world is quite small and in it, no one else measures up.

As a Christ follower, I’m called to mirror the attitude of Jesus. When I study His character and seek it, He keeps me selfless and sacrificial. When I remember my mess before asking Him to guide my life, I’m grateful for each day.

Is there someone who needs you to be fully present? Maybe a spouse, a friend, or a parent? Remember, roses grow back, but people grow old and children grow up.

Choosing abundant life in Christ empowers us to live fully in the now. Sometimes we’ll mess up. But we press on because we don’t want to miss one more breath-stealing moment.

“Yesterday is history, tomorrow is a mystery, but today is a gift. That is why it is called the present.” –Oogway, Kung Foo Panda

 

Photo from Pixabay.com

My biggest writing challenge is not a lack of ideas. I have scads. The glitch comes when my brain compels me to write my current emotional struggles. To which I reply, “Again? No. This isn’t fun. I don’t want to be a Debby Downer.” Sure, I can copy and paste a happy-sappy piece from last year. But, as usual, I’m drawn to a mental venting.

Writing’s been my therapy since my pre-teen days. Well, that and a shameless love of dancing. If not sitting on a riverbank filling notebooks with thoughts of my latest crush or my adolescent life with an alcoholic, I was outside choreographing dance moves to “Stayin’ Alive” blaring from a cassette player.

So, what’s on my mind today? An unresolved conflict with my husband. This morning, I woke the same way I fell asleep. With tears stinging puffy eyes. I didn’t want the day to start as I reached into the freezer for Alex’s teethers to press onto my eyelids.

People tell me I have a “non-anxious presence.” Not yesterday. I was a blubbering, stress ball sitting in the car at Kohl’s. Honest communication can be hard. But I asked for it.

Before I showed up at my desk, I poured foggy thoughts onto paper. They’re prayers really. Not eloquent or pretty, just candid and gritty. I wrote until I broke free of hurt and emotional weight. I got past myself. Then I gained perspective.

While I sit in my home office, comfy in yoga pants and drinking fresh coffee, Jeff’s in front of three computer screens wired to corporate America. He deals with power outages and multi-million-dollar budgets and motivating people to do their job. There are hundreds of emails and spreadsheets and repairs, oh my.

When we get past ourselves, we see that others struggle too. Work and home and relationships are often complicated and heavy. Even for those usually upbeat, like my husband. If he’s not smiling, singing, or whistling—he’s stressed.

Marriage, family, and friendships bond us together. But, we’re each on our own journey. We need to give others space for mistakes and opinions and imperfection. We listen, we hear, we love, we cheer.

Today, I arrived at my desk inspired by my good and messy life. One like yours, perhaps. May we not let our challenges distract us. The best and strongest among us need our encouragement.

Who in your circle needs you to see past their words, their walls, and their stress? How can you let them know their loved and appreciated?

Thanks for sitting and listening, my friends. I am encouraged. I pray you are too. Love and Peace for your journey.

 

 

Photo from Pixabay.com

 

 

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My boss told me on Monday she wouldn’t need me at the candy shop. With that extra twenty hours, I was pumped and looked forward to a productive week. I’d catch up on laundry, finish editing Chapter 6, and help my daughter spring clean before she’s back in school.

Then Tuesday rumbled in on a wave of food poisoning. It jolted Hannah and me awake around 2 a.m. Let’s just say our tummies rebelled. Enough said.

That one nasty, microscopic brat not only knocked me flat for a day, it rocked my world for a week. And that’s where I found myself the next Monday morning. Fighting a holistic assault on my mind, body, and spirit. After day one, my tummy was fine. But on day seven, I was still tired, chemically-altered, and biologically-challenged. My mind was a battlefield.

We are complex beings. Amazing and wonderfully created when you consider the network of systems that keep us ticking and breathing and thinking and feeling. Our body is also linked to our mind and spirit. It’s all connected. When one is off kilter they’re all in danger of derailing.

I hate being in that place. Where we’re simply tired of everything and everybody. Where we’re stuck and losing hope and tempted to settle. We’re tired of the mental battle. We want to give up and isolate ourselves, but we know we can’t. Digging out of discouragement is exhausting, isn’t it?

What do your thoughts say to you? Mine told me, “You can’t write this book. Quit. It’s too hard.” That’s when my inner rebel with her pit-bull determination fired back, “This is not a new fight. You’re done messing with my head. With God, I can do this.” As negative thoughts took a hike, I caught up on laundry, helped Hannah clean, and accomplished more in Chapter 6 than I had in weeks.

My friends, on your manic Mondays or Tuesdays or Sundays, invite Jesus into the middle of the mess. Into your fears, your worries, and your pain. His promises and presence will empower you.

Let’s not forget to talk to—and listen for—the One who made our own unique mix of moxie and weakness. Let’s pray until our thoughts are focused and read Scripture until our hearts are encouraged.

Be stubborn and have courage for your journey.

 

 

Photo from Pixabay.com

 

Strange weather here in the Midwest. Not quite spring, not quite winter. Kinda in-between. We’ll call it sprinter. I’m not complaining. Cold, warm. It’s all good as long as it’s sunny.

What about those unexpected life seasons that aren’t so warm and welcoming? When we find ourselves in-between burdens and blessings?

Valentine week was busy at Hollingworth Candies. Waiting at the end of the cooling machine to catch English Toffees, reminded me of what Forrest Gump’s momma always said, “Life is like a box of chocolates. Ya never know what you’re gonna get.”

Yes, life surprises us, doesn’t it? Last year started out rough. My sister was hospitalized when her white cell count crashed after her first round of chemo. My mom, in her assisted-living apartment, waited and wondered why I wasn’t there. Though my visit was written on her calendar, she was confused and worried. Then our grandson, Alexander, arrived with only three weeks to prepare our minds and our almost-empty nest. I’m losing my breath just remembering that season.

Perhaps you can relate. Maybe this year or this day started out rough for you.

We live with burdens and blessings. They create tension, a tug-of-war of opposing forces. It’s a mental spiritual battle. It’s there simply because we are alive. It’s part of the human experience. Will we choose to despair or to live above our struggle? Will we choose death or life?

That’s where faith has to be stronger than our feelings. Our emotions are fickle. They change at the whim of a thought, a comment, a hormone. In the midst of emotional strain, we often want to quit. Especially if we listen to the wrong voice.

In Job 2:9-10b, Job’s wife asks him, “Still holding on to your precious integrity, are you? Curse God and be done with it!” Wow. Now that could mess up a guy’s day. But, not Job’s. He chose life. “You’re talking like an empty-headed fool. We take the good days from God—why not also the bad days?”

Job took the jab and gave it right back. After all his losses, his future was iffy. He trusted God and that was enough.  Author and speaker, Nicki  Koziarz says, “It’s okay not to be okay … for a while.”  Then we get up.

At the beginning~and for much of 2016~I was a mess. Still have my moments. But, I fight even when I don’t feel like it because I won’t be robbed of who God created me to be, whole and free. My friend, we’re made for more than survival. With faith, we not only endure tough times, we grow and thrive all the way through them.

My sister inspires me. Watching her fight death and sickness in her year of aggressive chemo and radiation, gives me courage. She’s now healing and living to the fullest.

Though my mom’s limitations are hard to accept, I’m learning to make her smile even if she doesn’t always remember. She teaches me to slow down and appreciate my moments, my health, my brain cells. It breaks my heart to walk out of her room and drive away from the nursing home. God reminds me we’re doing what’s best for her and that He’ll never leave her.

Then there’s my smiley, mischievous one-year-old, Alexander. He teaches me to adjust to life’s little surprises. Though difficult and not in our plan, unexpected seasons can be full of joy, and giggles, and lots of cheerios.

I agree with Forrest’s momma. “Life is like a box of chocolates.” We don’t know what we’re gonna get. With God, we choose faith and move forward. He gives peace and patience, wisdom and rational thought. When we accept burdens along with the blessings, we win abundant life.

It’s our choice. Hard times can eat us up or grow us up.

Grace and giggles for your journey, my friend ❤✌🙏