Sitting in the Lap of Mother Earth

This past week, I read a meditation in  each of my yoga classes by J. Allen Boone that said, “One way to get expanded into a larger awareness of knowing and being is to “sit in the lap of Mother Earth”, look off into scenic loveliness and far distances, and listen for the good counsel from the silence as it gently speaks to each of us in the infinite language of all life.”

Each time I read this, I envisioned the coming weekend when I was going to be doing that very thing. I was heading up to the mountains where I would have Mother Earth all to myself. There’s nothing like sitting in the midst of nature and listening to the good counsel of silence. I’d highly recommend it for anyone who is overwhelmed by the distractions of life – work, finances, family issues, health problems, uncertainty, worry, fear. They all are washed away when you are sitting in Mother Earth’s lap and listening to nothing but the silence.

And here I am. That day has come. I’m sitting here on the dirt ground, looking at nothing but loveliness. Hear nothing but complete silence. My entire body is tingling from the beauty that surrounds me. The stillness. The crisp air. Things are so much clearer when you can get out of the noise of life. The little things don’t seem to matter as much, and the ten thousand voices that were in my head just a few short days ago, prodding me to do the next thing, make the next decision, or prepare for the next meeting are all quiet. I’m open to new possibilities and content with the way things are. I’m grateful for my many blessings and reconnected to my Source. So, don’t put it off for one more day! Take some time for yourself. Sit in the lap of Mother Earth and listen to the good counsel of silence. How will it transform you?

Endings and Beginnings

Just when I’m getting into the groove of summer, it’s back to school time.  While my daughter’s Teen Vogue magazine says that my Capricorn horoscope is "buzzing with excitement for back-to-school planning time”, my general feeling is that I’m not quite ready yet. Sure, I do crave the routine that the school year brings, but I also love the spontaneity of summer . . . sitting out on the front porch drinking my coffee in the morning, visiting with my kids in the middle of the day while I take a break from work, or heading up to our cabin for a long weekend.

I do love the carefree days of summer. I think the other thing that makes this summer coming to an end more difficult, is that I know I’ll have to say goodbye to Kenzie again as she heads back up to school. She’s close by, but always too far away for this Mom. And, then there’s Taylor. He just got his driver’s license, and is already asking about how much freedom he’s going to have now that he can get behind the wheel on his own. Oy! Just another thing for this Mom to worry about . . . and to reflect on.

It’s amazing how our time as parents flies by so quickly. I think it’s because we see our memories captured in the “big” milestones . . the day they were born, the day they started walking, the day they went to Kindergarten, the day they graduated high school. But, I will try and breathe it all in and continue to take each moment as it comes, as a blessing from God that we’ve been able to enjoy everything that comes with being a parent. That doesn’t mean that I didn’t let out a huge, heart-felt sigh or get watery eyes when Kenzie packed up her things and Taylor got behind the wheel to head out on his own. It’s those bittersweet moments that remind us just how blessed we are.

Practicing Joy

In the grocery store line yesterday morning, I was compelled to indulge in a guilty pleasure, and purchased an Oprah “O” magazine. The front cover spoke to me . . . it was “The Quiz Issue”. I’m a sucker for quizzes, so I brought it home and enticed Kenzie to take a couple of the quizzes with me. 
The first one was called, “Where Do you Find Joy?” and had us draw a timeline of a typical day, mapping out how much time we spend doing things, like working, cooking, cleaning, sleeping, etc. The next part of the exercise was to answer questions about things you love to do. You had to fill in the blank and answer questions like, “I could blow an entire rainy afternoon _________”, or “When I was a kid, I used to love ______”. We were to write the first thing that came to our minds, and it was a pretty easy exercise. Don’t we all know what we love to do? 
The next step was to redraw our timeline for a typical day, and sprinkle in some of the answers from those questions. This was very exciting to me because I noticed where there were small gaps in my day when my energy was low or in the evenings when I wasn’t getting anything productive done (the show, Diners, Drive-ins and Dives comes to mind), and used those as places to fill in my “love-to-dos”. Some of them included taking a walk, spending time catching up with girlfriends, and drawing. 
When it was time for Kenzie to add in her “love-to-dos” to her list, she sort of looked at me blankly. I asked her if she was having a hard time fitting her loves into her schedule, and she surprised me by saying that she already does 9 of the 10 things on her list most days!  (When she was a “kid”, she used to love playing with her Barbie dolls . . . doesn’t do that anymore!) 
This got me thinking about how I’ve let my monotonous routine dominate my life. How lovely would it be to take 15 minutes out of my day and sketch the mountains or 30 minutes for a walk around the block . . . just because. What do YOU love to do that you aren’t doing because of a busy schedule, or just because it’s not currently part of your routine? Do one today!

Who Is That Crazy Lady?

I wasn’t quite sure if I’d ever put this life story into print. It’s sooo embarrassing. Will I regret it? Maybe, but here goes. 
It’s all about getting out of our comfort zones. Apparently, I’m in my comfort zone quite often. And, to top it off, I have the false belief that I have the super-ability to remain in that comfort zone, responding to all stresses with peace and love, no matter what happens. I teach yoga, after all! 
Well, all of those preconceived notions about myself were turned upside down a few weeks ago when my daughter Kenzie and I rented a pontoon boat while we were in Gunnison. We do this almost every year, and look forward to having some girl-time, as we float on the lake, catch some rays, and read our books. Sounds like a pretty relaxing time, doesn’t it? Well, it certainly was until we were about an hour into our float-time, and thought we should move up the lake a little further. My husband Tom and son Taylor were on their own fishing boat somewhat nearby, and we thought we should cruise around and see what the fishermen were up to. I turned the key to the boat and . . . nothing. I tried once more. Nothing. 
Michael, the guy who showed us where everything was on the boat before we left the dock, told me that if the boat had trouble starting, to just push the key in as I was turning it, to choke it. I tried that, and nothing. Time to call for help. Fortunately we had cell phone service, so we called the boys to come and fix our problem. Tom got on the boat, looked at the motor, tried to start it, and said that he’d have to tow us in. So we hooked up with a rope and 30 minutes later we were back to the dock. 
Taylor tied the front and back of the boat to the side of the dock and remained on the boat while I stepped off to get someone who worked at the boat house. I got back on the boat to start unloading our things when I noticed that the front tie had come undone! The boat was drifting off and away from the dock, held only by the single back tie. Kenzie was on the dock looking on, as I grabbed the little paddle they keep on the boat, got to my knees, and started paddling to get the front end of the boat back to the dock so we could tie it back down. I soon noticed that the paddling was getting nowhere, and as I looked back, I realized that the second tie had come undone and we were just drifting off, further from the dock! 
This is when something in me snapped. Whether it was fear of getting stuck on the shallow side of the inlet just feet away, drifting off into the lake never to be retrieved again, or just feeling helpless about being up a creek without a paddle – OK, we were on a lake with a paddle, but you get the idea – without the motor, I panicked and began paddling even faster. I was yelling, “who didn’t tie the boat to the dock!?” in Taylor’s direction, and then, "don’t blame your sister” at the top of my lungs as I paddled faster and faster . . . still getting nowhere. 
I looked over to the dock where one of the employees was calmly, and without a word, getting a rope prepared to toss to my son so he could pull us back in. He sort of reminded me of what Jesus must have looked like in the story of the disciples' boat during the raging storm, with everyone panicking except him. Then, I noticed the group of people on the dock, just looking on at this crazy woman on her knees trying to steer a 16-foot pontoon boat with this tiny little paddle. I’m surprised no one was capturing everything on video, but who knows? It could be on YouTube and I don’t even know it! 
We finally got pulled back in, and when I was gathering up my stuff and getting ready to walk back to the boat house, I heard the employee get the motor to turn over. Perfect. Then, a little boy who had been standing on the side of the dock with all the other people yelled over to me, innocently, “Did you get your boat started?” I shot him the evil eye, and turned back towards the boat house. 
To add insult to injury, the employee asked me, “Didn’t Michael show you where the red ‘fast start’ button is?” Um, no. Michael did NOT show me the fast start button, otherwise I probably would have used it! After all that, Kenzie and I were walking back to our car and I said, “Did I look like a crazy lady out there?” She hesitated for a moment, and then said, “You lost it, Mom.” I did, indeed, and it even surprised me. How could the calm, centered, peaceful person I know myself to be just snap like that? 
I think it happens to all of us, and I think it comes from some deep-seated fear – whatever that is for us. I remember when my kids were younger and Taylor ran out into the street to retrieve a ball without looking. I screamed like a crazy lady (there she is again!) and ran out there to scoop him up before the car down the road got any closer. It’s times like these when we lose our sense of security, get out of our comfort zones, and snap. 
I’m not 100% sure of the lesson in all of this, except for the fact that I want to be more like the guy on the dock throwing the rope, and don’t want to be the crazy lady paddling frantically. I also want to know where ALL of the red “fast start” buttons are in my life. Maybe we just need to remember that in all of our stressful, out-of-control, panicky times, there is Someone out there with a rope, and the fast start button is there if you just look.  

The Tree

I was laying in bed this morning thinking about writing. I’ve been thinking about writing a lot, but haven’t done much of it at all, for myself anyway. Most of my writing as of late has been for business, and while I love this type of work, it has certainly distracted me from the view out my own window. Literally. My eyes are glued to my computer screen, cranking out work, and I’ve neglected spending time with my own writing. About the important stuff. Even when I’ve sat down at my computer to attempt writing my blog, my fingers haven’t moved very quickly across the keyboard and I find myself going on to other things. 


As I got my coffee this morning, and made my way towards my Bible, I was praying for a nugget of resonance to appear on the page I opened up to today. I wanted to connect with the passage I was on in some way, so that I’d know it was time to write again. I wanted my fingers to start tingling. I’ve been slowly stepping through a devotional Bible for the last 10 months, and I’m currently on the Book of John. Throughout various sections of this Bible are reflections on certain passages, and the reflection of the passage I read today (John 4: 1-26) referenced Psalm 1:3 which says, “He is like a tree planted by streams of water, which yields its fruit in season and whose leaf does not wither. Whatever he does prospers.” Perfect. Of course. 


It got me thinking back to a conversation I had a few days earlier with a good friend of mine. We were talking about how we “Type-A” personalities have a hard time sitting still and being patient. We always want to be doing, doing, doing. We want to be making things happen, taking steps towards a goal, making progress towards something. She said that she received good advice from another friend who reminded her that sometimes we just need to be still. We need to be patient and accept this stillness in our lives so that we can be ready for whatever the next step might be for us. 


It’s like that psalm. We are trees, planted by a flowing, lovely, thirst-quenching stream. We yield our fruit (accomplish our goals, see our dreams come to fruition, realize success) . . . in season. We don’t wither when we’re not in season. We’re just called to be still, patient, faithful, and ready to bloom when the time is right. As difficult as it might be to be a tree, still and patient, it can be something beautiful and fulfilling as well. To be in the present moment, patient yet hopeful, that our hearts are being prepared to yield amazing fruit, and prosper at everything we do . . . . now, that’s worth waiting for!  

What is Your Yardstick?

Many of my friends’ kids are graduating high school this month, and some of them graduated college. As I reflect back on my daughter’s high school graduation just last year, and my son’s approaching graduation in a couple of years, I was drawn to an interesting link that was highlighted in the Harvard Business Review. The link was blue, boldfaced, and underlined:  “Create a Life with Purpose” and naturally, I had to click on it. It took me to an article entitled, “How Will You Measure Your Life?” written by Harvard Professor Clayton Christensen.  He teaches a management theory class, and spends the semester taking students through models and theories that “help students think about the various dimensions of a general manager’s job in stimulating innovation and growth.” He uses this same model as a lens for our own lives, and asks the students the following questions to help them create a yard stick for measuring theirs.

The first question is: How can I be sure that I’ll be happy in my career? Christensen references Frederick Herzberg who said that “the powerful motivator in our lives isn’t money; it’s the opportunity to learn, grow in responsibilities, contribute to others, and be recognized for achievements.” The yardstick becomes:  How can we help others learn, grow, and recognize them for their achievements?

The second question is:  How can I be sure that my relationships with my spouse and my family become an enduring source of happiness? That’s a big one. Especially since we don’t really give it that much thought. We fall in love, get married, build careers, have children, and do our best along the way. Christensen asserted that when we have a strategy for our lives, in terms of keeping our purpose front and center at all times, we are better equipped to choose how we spend our time, energy, and talents in each of these endeavors. He also talks about “creating a culture” in your family where, from a very young age, children instinctively are respectful towards one another, obey their parents, and make good choices. These things don’t magically materialize. We parents must build that culture (give them roots) and then send them on their way (give them wings) when they leave our nests. The yardstick is: What is our ultimate purpose (for ourselves and for our family), and how are we living it daily?

The third, and final question, “how do I stay out of jail” seems humorous and out of place at first glance, but we know all too often that people get themselves on paths of self-destruction that can spin out of control quickly. To answer this question for ourselves, Christensen says that we must live lives of integrity, and that involves something called “the marginal cost doctrine”. He says it’s easier to hold to our principles 100% of the time than it is to hold them 98% of the time. Alternatively, when we employ the “just this once” mode of thinking, we marginalize ourselves and our lives because “just this once” is rarely just this once. The yardstick is: Define what you stand for, and then, stick to it.

The final takeaway in his article (which has recently evolved into a book by the same title), Christensen says, “the metric by which God will assess my life isn’t dollars, but the individual people whose lives I’ve touched.” If we use those words as our yardstick, our lives will be successful beyond imagination.

The Knock

Desmond Tutu, Photo by Jesse Tinsley

This past weekend, we had the privilege of traveling as a family to Spokane, Washington, to watch our niece, Erin, graduate from Gonzaga University. The graduation was held on Sunday, Mother’s Day, and the keynote speaker was Archbishop Desmond Tutu. It was an honor to hear Tutu speak, especially since he has been retired for years and hasn’t accepted any speaking engagement requests. He more than made up for his short stature through his vibrant, youth-like personality, and this 80-year-old South African activist and Nobel Peace Prize laureate mesmerized the packed Spokane Arena in a way that made my heart feel like it was going to burst out of my chest.  

He delivered his talk without notes of any kind, and started off by acknowledging the over 11,000 students, parents, and faculty present. Then, the good stuff. Even though he was addressing the graduates of Gonzaga, class of 2012, I felt as if he were talking to each one of us, individually. He spoke of God. He spoke of Jesus. He spoke of Mary’s answer to God’s request, in the form of a knock-knock verse in his soft, melodious voice. “Knock knock. Who’s there? Arch Angel . Arch Angel Who?” Tutu then described the utter shock and disbelief Mary must have felt upon hearing the news that the angel brought her, and how she accepted her destiny as the handmaiden of the Lord. “Each one of us is indispensible,” Tutu whispered.  He said that God knew us before we were formed in the womb, and to each of us he has given a special task on earth to perform. “That means you, you, you, you, you, and you,” he said as he pointed to various people in the crowd. ”You are indispensible.” 

He shifted gears and began speaking of unity. Unity of all, no matter our differences. Unity because God created all. We are all part of God’s family. “Black, white, and yellow. All,” he said with outstretched arms.”Male and female. All. Gay, lesbian, and the so-call straight. All. All. All. All. All. All,” he proclaimed to resounding cheers, as he encircled his arms as if to bring us all together. 

Then, when I thought my heart couldn’t swell up into my throat any more, he said something that I don’t think I’ll ever forget. I don’t know if it was because of the intensity in his face, the quiet tone of his voice, or God’s light that surrounded his every word and expression. He said that it is only through human intervention that God can do anything in the world. God doesn’t “rain hamburgers from the sky.” We must feed the hungry. We must heal the sick. We must be the sounding board for the person who is going through a difficult time. You could hear a pin drop in the enormous stadium when he said slowly, and in a very quiet voice, “And God says, ‘Help Me. Help Me. Help Me. Help Me.’” We are His hands and feet. We are the ones who must take action. We are indispensible because we have a task that we were given, unique unto ourselves. One we are called to fulfill. How will we answer the Knock?

Finally Free

A prayer of mine was answered this week, and I was barely "in tune" enough to even notice it. The last couple of weeks have been extremely busy for me. Between juggling work deadlines, appointments, family commitments, and household "stuff" just to keep things humming along, it didn’t even sink in when my friend called me and said that she finally felt “really happy”. This had been my prayer for her for many months. Over the last several months she has endured unwarranted torment from family members, leaving her feeling crushed, betrayed, and empty.  I felt her pain, and my prayer for her was that she could escape the chains that held her captive to this torment, and just be free. Finally free. And she was. 
It wasn’t until this morning, two days after we had spoken, that I finally had a chance to sit back in silence. I was reading some scripture when I recalled her words from the other night, “I finally feel really happy.”  God works in amazing ways – and according to His own Divine plan. Sometimes our prayers are answered on the spot, and other times, we must be patient and let time heal so that we can feel His wonderful spirit making things new in our lives. My problem this week was that I was too wrapped up in the “stuff of the world” instead of keeping my eyes first and foremost on Him and the magic He was working in my friend’s life. I didn’t take the time to thank God for my answered prayer, so I’m doing it now, in the form of a passage from Psalm 51: 10-12 (which I happened to stumble upon this morning). It says, “Create in me a pure heart, O God, and renew a steadfast spirit within me. Do not cast me from your presence or take your Holy Spirit from me. Restore to me the joy of your salvation and grant me a willing spirit to sustain me.”  And, BTW, thank you for my answered prayer. 

The Clash of Two Loves?

Make no mistake about it, I am Christian. But, I’m also a yoga teacher. Is there a clash between these two loves in my life? I didn’t think so until last week when I was discussing the Bible, life, and yoga with someone I had met at a networking meeting. She knew that I was a yoga instructor, and the topic of Christianity came up seemingly naturally in our conversation, but it wasn’t until we began diving into the discussion that I realized she was questioning how I could reconcile teaching a Hindu-based practice while claiming to love the Lord. The initial question seemed quite innocuous to me, because I had always entered into my yoga practice as a time when I could make another connection with God, and I like to bring this aspect into my teaching. From the very beginning of my yoga teaching career, my first and foremost ideal has been to teach the practice in order to improve overall health, increase movement, improve physical well-being, mental sharpness, and to facilitate a mind-body-spirit awareness . . . not to mention just taking the time to breathe, recharge, and reconnect.  Many, if not all, of my students are Christian also, and it is the spiritual connection that they say differentiates my classes from others they’ve attended.

After our discussion, as we were going back to our cars and parting ways, my acquaintance handed me a couple of pamphlets on the dangers of practicing yoga if you are Christian. I was shocked that she had these things prepared for me in her car, and even more shocked at my initial response, which was fear, uncertainty, and almost shame. I wondered, have I been going against God this entire time and didn’t even realize it? I thought of family members and friends who don’t acknowledge my love for the practice and thought that perhaps it was because they thought I was going against my own beliefs and theirs. Having told this woman that I wished other people would have an open mind to Christ, I unwillingly took the pamphlets, thinking that I at least needed to know what some people were saying about it. 

After sitting with the material, I knew most of the things that they were saying about the practice, most of it very extreme. It was so far from what I was teaching, and the spirit that I work to bring to my classes. My question remained, “How can I feel such love for something that I do, for the people with whom I connect, for the help I’m able to give others and the love I get in return, for this to be something that God doesn’t want for me?” Make no mistake about it: I love the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit, and I will continue to bring this love and my love of yoga to as many people as I can, in the spirit which I had intended from the very beginning.  It’s what I’ve been called to do.

Doing Nothing

I love the smell of a bookstore. Walking in the double doors of the store the other week, my eyes wandered back and forth as I took in the shelves upon shelves of books, ones I’ve read and have yet to read. I inhaled deeply, as if I were going into Mountain Pose, and let my body take in the smells of all of these delightful books. I walked right past the display of the electronic gadgets that falsely promote themselves as books, and entered deep into the heart of the store. I was looking for a book for my husband’s birthday, and once I found it, strolled in the direction of the checkout counter – only to find myself staring face to face with the “Bargain Books” section. Bad news. While I really didn’t need another book, how could I pass up a bargain?
I set my husband’s book down, and as I began thumbing through the pages of these amazing bargain books, my 18 year-old daughter called me. I told her where I was, and she said, “Mom, step away from the bargain books section.” She knows my love of books and bargains, the two of which together, are a deadly combination. I was able to get her permission to stay for a few more minutes when I told her about the bargain “body and brain” book (she’s studying to be a nurse), and as I flipped through the pages telling her about the brain stems and sleep disorders and ventricles, she said, “OK, only a few more minutes – and don’t forget that my birthday is coming up!” When we hung up I lingered even longer, picking up gems that I’ve wanted to read for a long time, like “A Course in Miracles” for the low bargain price of $10.98, or “How to Develop Self-Confidence and Influence People by Public Speaking,” by Dale Carnegie for a steal of a deal at $6.98. By the end of the excursion, I had picked up a total of six books in addition to my husband’s one, and happily stepped up to the checkout counter.
One of the books in my stack was “The Joy Diet” by Martha Beck. She is a favorite author of mine, because I can totally relate to her. She has a humorous and sarcastic writing style, but she is a busy mom, writer, and loves helping people work through their issues as a coach and counselor. I got into “The Joy Diet” last night, which prompted this writing. The first step in the plan is to take 15 minutes to do nothing – yes, I mean absolutely nothing – each day for a week. It’s only when you can master this for seven days that you can move on to step two. Seems easy when you say it, but doing it is something else entirely. While I like to think that I can “be still and know God” in my prayer, in my yoga practice, and in sections of my daily life, putting it to a timer is something altogether different. I think that’s why I like bookstores so much – it gives me the feeling that I can allow myself to be swept away into “nothingness” for a period of time and get lost in a book, all with the potential of taking my mind and spirit to another level through its pages.
When was the last time you spent 15 minutes doing absolutely nothing? At first it seems like a guilty pleasure, and when you get down to it, it is shockingly difficult! Perhaps give it a try for a week and see how it makes you feel. See if it changes you, quiets your mind, brings you closer to your Creator, makes you a better person. Let me know what happens and I’ll do the same. Until then, I’ll be staying away from the bookstore for awhile.

Fix Your Eyes

The view out my window is beautiful these days. The grass is starting to green up, the buds on the trees are beginning to shoot out in their full glory, birds are singing, and that hoot owl outside my bedroom window wakes me up nearly every morning, ushering out the night and welcoming the dawn of a brand new day. I love spring. Everything cold and dead comes alive again and watching the transformation is always a wonderful treat for me.

But, like everything else, spring comes and goes quickly, so I really try to pay attention to it. My favorite part of the transformation process is watching my fruitless crabapple tree go from bare branches to green, leafy buds, then to pink flowery buds, and finally, to a brilliant, white snowball of flowers. This transformation always happens around Easter time and it fills me with great expectation, hope, and wide eyes for what’s to come next.

But, how often do we fear transformation? If “change is good” why can it be so scary at times? I was reading Malachi 3:6 today which says, “I the Lord do not change.” This gave me pause as I reflected on the not-so-great times in my life when I was feeling helpless, hopeless, afraid, and unsure. We all go through these times in our lives, but it is then that we need to fix our eyes on God. He is ever-present, never-changing, always near.

When I find myself in times of uncertainty, I have to remember that He is unchanging – my rock – the stable center that I desperately need when things feel like they are out of control. I fix my eyes on Him. In His splendor, God gives us the reassurance that He is walking with us, leading us through our problems and not around them, and taking us by the hand so that we can be stronger people for having done so.

One way I’ve found to be most helpful in “fixing my eyes” on Him is to spend a little time in nature. Gaze at the mountains, feel the sun on your skin, take a walk in the park, breathe in fresh air, and during this time of year, notice the daily changes He's bringing about. He is in all of these things, and when we immerse ourselves in His Divine love, we are given the assurance that our springtime is near, that He is omnipresent in our lives, and that our cold, barren branches will soon be brilliant and white. Let it unfold.

The Connection

In the busy-ness of raising a family, we may overlook the things we do to create “connections” with our children. I’m talking about those special, seemingly insignificant moments that we share as a family unit. It is these things, which over time, create an unbreakable bond. Playing cards as a family, having a joke that only we know about, making a special meal, gathering for prayer. I’ve noticed that it is these things that keep us together as a family, even though our children are growing up, and with each day, are learning to create lives of their own. Kids crave a sense of belonging, and they cling to the special moments that we fashion with them as they are growing up. That’s what keeps us together.
One of the connections we have as a family is homemade pizza night. Tom has perfected a pizza dough and sauce recipe that could win awards, and whenever Kenzie comes home from school for the weekend, she asks for Dad’s famous pizza. Although the deliciousness alone might lead you to understand her desire for pizza night . . . I know it’s something else altogether. Everyone watches with anticipation as the dough rises and the ingredients for the sauce get chopped up. Then, it’s time for everyone to make their own pizza . . . that’s when the fun begins. Unique dough shapes are created, cheese-stuffed crusts are formed, and toppings are added to personal tastes. Usually, the music is up in the background, and the dogs are at our feet, waiting for the tiniest morsel to be dropped. It’s just our thing. And, I think it’s something that we’ll always have, even when our kids have kids. It’s one of the special things we do together as a family unit. It is ours.
What are the special moments you’re creating with your family today? Know that it’s these things that you’ll keep coming back to, and that will keep them coming back to you. A unique connection that can’t be broken.

I Need a New Word for "Weird"

The word “weird” comes up in my vocabulary a lot. I use it to describe those somewhat mystical, magical, unforeseen, telepathic, miraculous, unexplainable, and just plain weird things that happen in life. Like, the times when you’re thinking about someone and they call you. Or, the times when you’re dealing with a particular problem and the answer comes to you in the scripture reading you turn to. Or, when you look at a digital clock and the time reflects a significant date in your life, like a birthday or anniversary.

I remember a priest telling the congregation not too long ago, about something that happened to him when he was in college and discerning his calling. Whenever he’d look at his watch or at a clock, the time was reflected in repeated numbers, like 11:11 or 4:44. He’d just simply smile to himself and know that it was God reminding him that He was near. My Mom often looks at the clock and sees her and my Dad’s wedding anniversary, 10:23. I’ve done a similar thing, and whenever I’d glance down at my odometer (I drive a lot . . .) the trip mileage was 111 or 222; or the total mileage was 88,888.

OK, now this is going to get a little “weirder”. As I just finished typing the 88,888 numbers above, a friend of mine called. I had ordered some products from her and I asked her how much I owed her. Are you sitting down? My total was $88.88. Weird?

Now, for the weirdest of them all. I’ve kept this weirdness to myself for awhile, but felt compelled to talk about it at a recent speaking engagement I had with a women’s group. I was talking about how, when we’re not connected to what’s going on around us and not living in the present, life just passes us by. When we make the decision to take some time to ourselves and be still and listen to what God is saying to us, all sorts of wonderful things can happen. I told them that over the last year or so, I’ve been experiencing “weird” buzzing or tingling in my lips or in my fingers when I feel like I need to “say” or “write” something. For example, early this morning, I was thinking about writing about “weirdness” but I had to first text a friend to see if, due to the bad weather, we were still meeting this morning. As soon as I hit “send”, I received a text message back that she was hoping we could reschedule due to the weather. There was no way she could have possibly received, read, and responded to my text that quickly. As soon as this happened, my fingers started buzzing/tingling (they still are right now) and I knew that I needed to write all of this down.

Weird? Maybe. Miraculous? Probably. Something I need to pay more attention to? Definitely.

What are those “weird” things in your life that you just take for granted or take as coincidence? What is God trying to tell YOU? Perhaps it’s time to give yourself permission to just be still and listen to what God is saying in your own life. And, while I might just keep calling these moments “weird”, I know that they are so much more than that. OK, my fingers just stopped tingling.

No more Pookie.

It was the day I had been dreading ever since my son became a teenager. Yesterday, my 15 year-old man-boy, in a somewhat out-of-the-blue sort of way, announced to me that it was time I stopped calling him “Pookie” (just one of my many nicknames for him) in front of his friends. And, he continued, while I was at it, I should probably stop calling him those names altogether, even if it’s not in front of his friends . . . because he is almost 16.

My response was a heavy sigh that only we Moms know how to sigh, followed by my response, “Do I really call you Pookie in front of your friends, Sweetie?”  Oh. Oops. Did I just call you Sweetie, Babe? Oops. Did it again! Well, gosh darn it, I’ve been doing it for . . . well, almost 16 years! It’s a hard habit to break!

When our kids are growing up, we know that, inevitably, they’re going to grow up for good. They’re going to move out of our homes, start their own lives, build their own dreams, and take the world on in their own way. That’s what we’ve raised them to do, after all! But, when those poignant times come throughout the growing-up-times when you see them practically grow up in an instant, the reward of “I did it – I raised a wonderful person” doesn’t seem so rewarding. It just seems like it all went much too fast.

I remember having this same feeling about our daughter who recently went away to college. How could this be happening all of a sudden, I remember thinking.  I just gave birth to her! But it does happen, they do grow up, they become independent, and we all adapt. It’s not such a bad thing, I’ve discovered, but it is different. New ways of looking at things, new ways of building your relationship with your child, and new adventures that they embark on with Mom at Dad no longer at arm’s reach.

“So, what should I call you?” I asked. “Son would be fine,” he responded. “OK, Sunshine”, I responded (sounds a little like “son”).  He smiled and hugged me. He’ll always be my Pookie.