Bumps in the Road?

"Is it a mountain to climb, or is it just a bump in the road, Mary?" A question Becky used to ask when I was facing another challenge. When discouragement sat in and helpless feelings came front and center, she would toss bits of wisdom my way, bits of guidance, that would settle into the brain waves as I considered "what now?"

Life is never without its challenges. Even for a life well lived. Mostly for a life well lived. It's how wisdom grows. When we face reality, but depend on grace as we ask ourselves, "Is it a mountain, or just a bump in the road?" 

Our reaction to difficulties as they vagabond themselves into our business; into our normal day-to-day lives, will create wholeness or brokenness. Brokenness is not always a bad thing, but can become undesirable if we wallow too long in it. At some point we must lift our eyes and get to work building, or re-building that which seems impossible. That which was never in the scope of our vision. That which seems to have been handed to us unexpectedly. A new chapter. A flipped page in our book of life. That which seems to have come from God's hands, yet with the question attached, "What will you do with this?"

With new things...different things...comes new challenges, different challenges that you know very little about. Talk about getting out of your comfort zone! I've heard that life awaits at the edge of our comfort zone. I'm questioning that, at this moment. I'm expecting great things, for sure. But for goodness sake! How on earth will I get from here to there? I will figure it out, but does it really need to be so difficult? I'm probably over-thinking this. That's how I operate.

I also think God must be laughing at me, right about now. I have voiced, carelessly, at times, "I love a good challenge!" Which is true, by the way, but maybe I forgot that God is always listening. Pretty sure I did.  Okay, Mary! Here ya go! Try this challenge out and let's see how long it takes you to conform to your new reality. I keep repeating, "Baby steps. Baby steps." My fast walking days seem to have been put on hold, at least for the time being.

Knowing He is always for my good, here you will find me...in Mary's World.

#chasinglife #lifeissues #theforgottenway #myjourneyamongtheunseen #beautyoflife #newchallenges #hairworksversesgardening

What Crumbled Your Cookie?

Something I have noticed over these past 7 (almost 8) decades of living, is that regret is a tough cookie to un-crumble. One can't change the past, from where the actions took place that caused regret to settle into our bones. That's why it's a wound that doesn't seem to ever heal.

We can use the tired, old adage, "I'm not perfect; I'm only human," to excuse our past (or present) behavior, but we all know that is only refusing to accept responsibility for our actions, or lack thereof. It's a conversation that gets old the more we have to address it. If we could just take responsibility for our actions, apologize if necessary and begin to restore trust, then possibly the crumble will stop and regret would become less prominent in our lives.

Whole cookies seem to taste sweeter. Right? They seem to be tastier, more satisfying. Wouldn't you agree? Better than if they have been crumbled. Yet, adversity does have its advantages. It trains us, prepares us, matures us. Even though it's not always a good thing, it can also cause disparity, feelings of loneliness, unworthiness, and self-image issues that accompanies a "less-than" image. To rise above it, we must see the value that is within us. Not only to ourselves, but to those around us. We must learn to walk upon the injustices of a life lived without purpose. There is, most definitely, value in the crumbled cookie. Much like a cracked pot, that light shines through.

For instance: Have you ever enjoyed a scoop of ice cream with crumbled cookies added to it? Have you ever been grateful for the last crumbled pieces, swiped off the counter, when needing something sweet to cut the sting of hot salsa? How about being allowed to have the last crumble of a broken cookie? Metaphorically, there are times we may feel like a crumbled cookie because of being the target of abuse...yet, all we have to remember is that our sweetness extends beyond what it was when we were whole.

The flip of this coin, is that we remain a victim of what we felt to be injustice. Not only does it keep us from what God intended for our lives, but it also causes us to continue the behavior that caused us to be broken in the first place. We can run, but we can't hide. And, at some point, we will have to face truth and break a cycle if need be, of what was. Allow ourselves to be different. To be whole, renewed. To be grateful...

For restoration, we must first take responsibility for what caused the regret in the first place, or place it where it belongs. There is no need to explain why we did, or said, the things that wound. That is only an action to protect ourselves and is seen as us saying it really wasn't our fault. "Because of blah, blah, blah, I did this (or that)." No. Stop making excuses for the why. Take responsibility!

There may be no place of forgiveness for what we have caused, but we must move forward if there is to be any resemblance of a life well lived. To correct our steps...our thoughts that create action, is to say and do every good thing possible; to do and say and express this to those we love. Daily. Break the cycle of bad behavior. Because there isn't always time to whisper good-bye. To allow love to be seen, and felt, is good. It's what keeps us focused...because there isn't always time to whisper good-bye.

Grateful for the grace I have received, and the opportunity to love deeply, here you will find me...in Mary's World.

Amazing Rain

Anyone who truly knows me (and lives in my neck of the woods), knows I am feeling a bit of Heaven in this moment. Not that I believe it rains in Heaven (maybe it does), but that rain comes from the heavens to not only give the earth what it needs, but to sooth the weary soul and bring calm to the stressed.

Yet...one can be totally calm and without feeling the stresses of life, still enjoy the soothing sounds of rain and the cozy feelings of a soft blanket wrapped so gently around the shoulders. I do love a good rain storm, whether it be while sitting on our back porch reading a good book, or sitting in a coffee shop enjoying the sounds and smells that come from an active environment.

Rain is life-giving and has a very pleasant earthy smell (in my opinion). Not only does it create stunning visual effects on everything it touches. it also represents renewal and purification. Did you know there are negative ions that come from rain? Those negative ions are what creates the positive effects (soothing the weary) we feel as we listen to the beating down on solid surfaces. Spiritually speaking, rain symbolizes new beginnings. It's all good and welcomed. Mostly...

But, have you ever considered how something so lovely can become a thing to fear? Even good things, great things, can wear out their welcome when going too far and consuming the very thing it came to refresh. Much like most of life, too much of a good thing can become deadly. There's always two sides to a coin. Am I right?

Don't ask me how I do this. It just seems to happen. My girls have been known to say, "Way to bring it down, Mom." 😂 It's true. I can turn the best scenario upside down just as quickly as it's presented as a good thing. A great thing. I am a sceptic, most would say. But I consider myself to be a realist. A realist that depends so heavily on God's mercy. A realist that walks by faith, even though my eyes and my thoughts invade purity's intention and has to be brought into subjection more than I prefer. Rarely an easy thing to do.

Maybe that is why God asks us to think on these things: "Whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable...if anything is excellent or praiseworthy...think about such things." ~Philippians 4:8

Peace in the midst of our present storm. I don't believe in ignoring reality, I just believe our God is greater than what our eyes perceive to be truth. Is truth. As long as we travel this earthly path, there will be troubles. He knows. He experienced it. He overcame it.

Ah...the beautiful, soothing sounds of rain!!!

Always looking at the flip side, here you will find me...in Mary's World.

#myjourneyamongtheunseen #lifeissues #theforgottenway #stormydays #amazingrain #soothinggrace

Permanent Brushstrokes

Is it possible to be thoughtful and wise, and also be silly and lighthearted, all wrapped up in one personality? Personally, being of a serious nature, I think not. One is either thoughtful and wise, or one is silly and lighthearted. Our core being is created long before we are able to choose (in my opinion), and it is what we go back to, should we veer off and try our hand at being something we aren't meant to be. 

Yet, can one be of a serious nature, and still enjoy the fun, orneriness of lighthearted people? I think so. But for me, when trying to be funny, I fail big time. I am who I am, I suppose. The question plagues me from time to time, especially when I'm face to face with myself; trying to figure out how I ended up with this always doubtful, always questioning nature: Did traveling the road I did have anything to do with that? Maybe. Or maybe I was just created to be a serious one. We all have a story...a life lived, that begs to be heard. To be of value. Whether that be one of a silly nature, or a serious nature. Just simply to be loved for who we are. Right? Isn't that what we all initially struggle with? At least until we understand who we were created to be. Then, it's a bit easier to embrace and begin the work of aligning ourselves. Becoming the best "me" possible.

This may come as a surprise to many, but I have more quiet moments than loud moments. I'm more of a silent nature than of a verbal one. Surprised, aren't you? Don't misunderstand. I can be decently verbal, given the opportunity to address issues that I am passionate about. I do have "soap boxes" that I love to perch on occasionally. And I love to read. Everything from informative biographies, to fictional thrillers. But I think my most loved are those that ground me. The books I can relate to on a simple human level, figuring out life as we know it to be. Books on perspective. Books that cause me to breathe easy and give hope that I can do better. We can always do better...

An author I love reading is Andy Andrews. You may have heard of him. The books I have of his are these: The Traveler"s Gift, The Noticer, The Noticer Returns, and his latest, Just Jones. I'm reading, for the first time, The Noticer Returns. Call me crazy, but I swear, when I'm needing to hear something of real value, I get this urge to pick up a book I didn't know existed, or revisiting one I've had forever. Within the first few pages of The Noticer Returns, the author gets my full attention.

After a really hard day of cleaning fish on the Gulf Coast, tired, homeless, and cold, the story unravels as the author is making his way back to the Gulf State Park Pier where his shelter is, when he is joined by his friend, Jones. An old man that walks with him a lot and is mostly silent until he has something of value to say. He had a way that made one think in ways they never had considered. Jones could turn anything upside down and sideways until it became perfectly clear and made total sense. After sharing all the frustrations from his day, they came upon a place where there was no way around but to cross through a motel swimming pool area. Trying to be quiet so as not to draw attention, Jones shuffled along as usual as if it didn't matter to him being "caught". As they came upon the pool area, Jones unexpectedly pushed  him in. A few minutes after helping him out, he said, "Son, you are at this very moment in the biggest war you will ever wage in your life. It is confusing, but you're fighting for what you'll one day become. There are forces clashing for space in your head that you don't recognize, can't see, and won't understand until you're able to look back on the whole thing years from now."

Jones continues by saying things like "the little things DO matter", "don't let others convince you not to 'sweat the small stuff'" and the kicker..."When you ignore little things, they often turn into big things that have become a lot harder to handle." Not sweating the small stuff is indeed a lie that can, and most likely will, ruin our lives in we believe it. We just gotta attend to those small things before they become so big it's like chopping away at a mountain, trying to pass through it.

But this quote is what really settled inside me:  "Your choices, your words, and every move you make are permanent. Life is lived in indelible ink, boy. Wake up. You're making little bitty brushstrokes every minute you walk around on this earth. And with those tiny brushstrokes, you are creating the painting that your life will ultimately become...a masterpiece or a disaster."

Most days, we'll get pushed around a bit. Mentally, mostly. Sometimes it's of our own making, other times it's of someone else's mess we've attached ourselves to. It causes us to question the why's and wherefores of life. How we consistently respond to the things we feel to be injustice towards us, abuse, or just plain ole hatefulness coming from someone we believe in, will determine the path we choose to follow for life. 

Side Note: Unexpectedly getting "pushed in the pool" can either be refreshing and a clearing of cobwebs from our brain, bringing truth in focus, or it can be something that causes a deep need to retaliate, to make them pay. But...who are we really hurting if we retaliate, instead first considering the brushstroke we are painting? 

As always, here you will find me...in Mary's World.

 

Legacy

Today has been a day of reckoning. So many thoughts whirling around in my head. Yesterday kicked my booty, so today has been throwing mud and other debris my way, creating a path that needed attention because of the surprises of yesterday.

Entering my study, I picked up a book that keeps yelling at me, as if the fact it sits so quietly on the file cabinet (yes, I still have a file cabinet), has no bearing on the outcome of my day. I began a search for whatever it was wanting to tell me, and it didn't take long before I knew.

"The value of our lives is not determined by what we do for ourselves. The value of our lives is determined by what we do for others." ~Simon Sinek, author of Together is Better

The thought processes from nigh on a year, now, have surrounded what I would leave behind when it's time to say goodbye to planet Earth. What will my legacy look like? What defines a legacy, anyway? What does it really consist of? Doesn't everyone get to the place of focusing on their legacy, at some point? Really focusing? Do they ask the hard questions, like, "Just how long will I be remembered?" "How soon will my voice be forgotten?" "What value was my life while living here?" "Just how much have I messed up?" "Will my grand-babies remember me?" I don't know about your thought processes, but those little neurons that fire inside my brain can, at times, over-ride every thought other than the one being focused on at the moment. And that thought explores the universe of possibilities...until I demand it to stop.

This is my conclusion: If my legacy is to be judged by others, let it be by the character of the children my husband and I have raised and the people we have led, or the impact we had in lives of the people around us. Not by how much money we acquired, or by what financial assets we have. That is what we should aim for. Right? We should live our lives for the legacies we want to leave. By the mark we wish to leave behind for the world.

Just remember...it's a journey, not a leisure walk.

And because of that journey, here you will find me...in Mary's World.

Idle Time

Mouth open keeps eyes open 🤣

Having more than a few spare moments today, I thought it might be "fun" to see how much entrance I could gain into the mind of the guy I've been married to for 50 years, 7 months, 6 days, 17 hours, and I'm not exactly sure how many minutes. I highly doubt anyone cares. Even me. However, this type of questioning has been fun in the past, why not see how we've progressed? Right? 😁 

Keep in mind that while the human mind is constantly processing information (regardless of the male species saying they aren't "thinking anything" when asked what they are thinking), there are times when conscious thought takes a pause, allowing for a state of relative mental quietude. So...I'll be gentle with the questioning. LOL. Right...

Here's today's line of questioning:

Q1. Where do you see us in 5, 10, or 20 years?  A1. Probably dead (the kid has a point).

Q2. What are some things you would like to explore or try together in the future?  A2. Nothing (😳)

Q3. What are your biggest fears about our relationship?   A3. One of us dying and leaving the other behind (Agreed).

Q4. How can we improve our communication and intimacy?  A4. Just try. (he hit the nail on the head with this one)

Q5. What are some ways I can support your dreams and goals?  A5. Go on an Alaskan Cruise with me and take a train ride in Alaska...and/or go to Colorado one last time. (Okay. I pick Colorado...but it will need to be a road trip).

Q.6 What is a favorite memory of us together?  A.6 The beach trip to Southport Oak Island, when Chuck gave us the key to his beach house, back in 2019. What a fun trip, meeting the townsfolk, walking down streets lined with amazing shops...and that great coffee shop we found that had the best coffee we've tasted in a long while. Such good memories of that place. Remember the dive we went to on the beach that had a live band?(Yes, dear. I do remember and I totally agree! Thanks again, Chuck!) 

Q7. What do you think is the biggest strength of our relationship?  A.7 We have the same belief system, trust, and loyalty (and I would add perseverance).

Q8. Is there anything you feel like you can't talk to me about?  A8. No (maybe because he knows my response would likely be a very long one, with several rabbit trails because it spurs another thought)

Q9. How do you think I could be a better partner?   A9. Can't think of anything (right 😉😂)

Q10. What's something you've always wanted to know about me but haven't asked?   A10. I know everything about you. (hmmmm...🤔)

I closed the questioning on that point. Do we reallllyyy know everything about each other? Maybe. But I doubt it. It's probably best that way. Some things just need to be between us and God. Those unspeakable events of long ago, don't need rehashing, or dredged up for all to know.

Well, this was fun! Until next time, here you will find me...in Mary's World. 

#lifeissues #ourjourneytogether #memories #beachtrip2019 

 

Thaumatophyllum Bipinnatifidum's Beauty

Love the title of this blog? Yeah. I know. Why not use simply identifiers that may point to the information coming up? Wellll....these days I'm feeling less than connected to the many human minds I once was, while in the fray of a personal business adventure of many a year. And while I'm very happy with the decision of "retirement," talking with those from various nations on a consistent basis, brought a sense of deep observation and inspiration, that I no longer get to experience. So, to keep some kind of resemblance to what I was accustomed to, I find myself diving a bit deeper into areas that may give me a better view of what my hand is finding to do these days. 

I'm still in awe of this change, this pivot in life. Never in a million years would I have dreamed of building a greenhouse so that we might have year-round fruits and veggies. Over the last couple of years I have toyed with the thought of purchasing a small portable greenhouse...the plastic enclosure kind...just so I might have a place for my gigantic Thaumatophyllum bipinnatifidum (Tree Philodendron) house plant, during the winters chill. Instead of visiting with humans, I now visit with plants. It's a little one-sided, so I rely on the internet to feed me information. 🤣

This particular beauty stays outside in a shaded area during the warm months, where plenty of light is there for her...just indirectly. She loves it! Within a couple of years she has grown so large that her leaves take up 3/4 of our 11x14 Library Room. The picture here, is of an almost new round of leaves that she has produced for us. I lost many of the gigantic ones during the transition trauma of going back outside, but she is recovering nicely. First year that has happened and I'm not sure why. Glad she forgave me!

The beauty she brings to our home is indescribable, at least for me. Dennis even loves the look and quality air she brings to our home. BUT...I don't think I'll be able to bring her in this winter, simply because this type of Philly likes temps between 70°-90° and it's been all I can do to keep her happy when she must be inside, surrounded by four man-made walls. If it hadn't been for the flooding of indirect sunlight, she may have pouted more than she did, and even though this philly is decently easy to maintain, she is demanding of balanced temps...that one. Hopefully, the newly-built greenhouse will allow her extended foliage to grace its protective walls and we will both be happy when the temps fall below 50°. Still, I think I will miss the ambiance she gives inside our library room.

Learning more about plant life, here you will find me...in Mary's World. #lifeissues #myjourneyamongtheseen #plantlife #myworldofplants

  

The Cork in the Water

This one is for those I have seen who can't manage to lift their eyes from the dirt that surrounds their feet. For those who feel lost, or without worth. It's for those who have had too much to mentally deal with before they were able. Never give up. Your life is valuable. You were created for such a time as this.

I used to run headlong into storms. My armour raised, my thoughts prepared for war, never once considering the fallout of unprepared results. Because...for many years I had the need to be heard. The need to be seen; the result of years of feeling unimportant, of being unseen; unheard. Inside I was screaming. Outside I was unapproachable. For a time, silence and solitude was only something others were able to attain, just not me. A peaceful existence just wasn't possible. Not in my world. Because I chose war.

Time moved on, as did I. However, the wounds of all those accumulated years laid dormant, resting, until something would trigger them. Open them back up. And I was on the defensive once again, ready to hide my pain, ready to rebuild the inner wall, deeper...higher.

As the years evolved, God continued his work of restoration. His work of peace and acceptance, then placed within me a noticeable true joy...about the time I reached 26 years of age. And even that had to mature to a place that the hardest of storms could not destroy. It was a place of resilience. Much like a cork that bobs in the ocean will follow the ebbs and tides, knowing its value in the small things of life. Not having to be anything more but what it was created for. Like a new-born baby, I began to learn...to absorb the goodness of God. Of life.

I used to compare my life to that cork by defining myself as having a directionless existence or like a discardable object. Always looking inward, trying to heal myself, rarely seeing others as anything but direct threats to my well being. Rarely, if ever, trusting their interests were anything but pure. I know. Sounds pretty bleak, right? It's a fight or flight response to life. And it's tiring...

Years of living, and years of meeting people whose heart really was pure and open to kindness without expecting anything from me but friendship, has helped the "little much afraid" of years past, to heal. It's been a journey that without the rapt attention of a protective God, I would not, could not, have made.

So, lift that beautiful chin of yours, upward! You are valuable, even if you don't feel as if you are, in this moment. You are heard, even if you think you are not. Your feet may have been places you didn't desire them to be. They may have carried you into a darkness that created fear, loneliness, and a loss of innocence. But you are never alone. God's pure and undefiled spirit surrounds you, never leaving you, as you walk through this valley of the shadow of death. Listen for his heart beat. Ask of him guidance. He waits to hear your voice choose him.

I no longer chase things that drain me. Haven't for many years. And it feels so good! I follow the calm voice that leads me to still waters, where the issues of life have no power to destroy. To the one I know waits for me....to hear my voice no matter what it speaks of. 

And lastly...I want you to know I am not always calm, even though my heart is full of God's goodness. There are things that still beckon me to respond wrongly. To get in that fight or flight mode again. Things that make me not trust. When those ugly memories raise their heads, I stop to remember who I am and whose I am. I stop to remember I no longer walk in the sludge of yesteryear. I choose not to. Sometimes, daily. Storms will come. But they also go. And I can weather the storms, because of whose I am. So can you!

You are more than a cork, yet resilient. 

Always listening for His heart beat, here you will find me...in Mary's World.

You Still Have Time...

"You still have time." 

That's what we keep telling ourselves. And maybe we do. But maybe we don't. The truth is...we never really know.

Time isn't generous. It doesn't pause. It doesn't warn. It slips through our fingers quietly, like sand...soft, silent, and unstoppable.

We measure our lives in years, in birthdays, in milestones. But life isn't made of years. It's made of moments.

And the hardest part is...we don't know how many moments we have left.

You might have a hundred more sunsets to watch, or only three. You might hear your mother's voice on the phone a thousand more times, or maybe you've already heard it for the last time...you don't even know.

You might get one more chance to say, "I forgive you." Or none.

You might still have time to hold your child while they're small, while their arms still fit perfectly around your neck, while they still say "I love you" without needing a reason. But those moments pass. Quietly. And once they're gone, they don't come back.

We live like we are invincible. We make plans as if time is endless. We say, "I'll do it later." "I'll call them next week." "I'll chase that dream when things settle down."

But what if they never do?

What if tomorrow never comes? What if the life you're waiting to live is passing you by right now, this very second?

What if this moment---this exact one---is the last chance you have to say what matters most? To hold someone you love without distraction. To cry without shame. To laugh without holding back. To be fully alive?

This isn't meant to make you afraid. It's meant to make you aware.

Because there is nothing more tragic than realizing too late that you were sleepwalking through the days that could have changed everything.

So please...wake up.

Look up from the screen. Call someone you miss. Apologize if you need to. Say the words you've been swallowing. Do the thing that terrifies you but lights a fire in your soul.

Stop waiting for the "right" time. That time is now. Right now. This breath. This heartbeat.

You don't need more time. You just need to stop wasting the time you already have.

Because in the end, it's not the years you'll remember. It's the conversations, the embraces, the risks, the tears, the laughter, the love. The moments.

So live for them. Cherish them. Protect them.

Because life isn't measured by how long you live...it's measured by how deeply you feel, how boldly you love, and how fully you show up while you're still here.

And you're here. So make it count.

Still learning to capture the moments in time, here you will find me...in Mary's World.

Guest Author: Sufia Jamil (found on FaceBook)...too good not to share!!! 

Pictures by: Lindsey Lewis...(daughter and photography creator extraordinaire) 

Lights, Camera, Action...through the years

What has been brought to mind this past week, is that small, consistent action changes everything...

And, in most cases, will catapult one into the next big thing. We have everything we need, right inside of us, to change whatever it is we want to change about our life. There is only one enemy we must conquer. The lack of "want to"...

The rewards of taking action are at least, satisfying. Such as cleaning out a closet that needed your attention long ago, or finally getting to that "thing" you've been mulling over (in your head only), completed. At most, small beginnings become humbling recognition, as we stare our future in the face.

It's up to me what that will look like. What will I say "yes" to, next?

A few days before leaving the hair industry, another stylist that worked just down the hall from me, approached me with a "what now" inquiry. "What will you do after all these years in the hair industry?" All I could say to her was, "I'm not sure yet. We'll see." What she didn't know about me is just how many hats I've worn throughout my life that have built me into the person I've become, and the one her eyes were now questioning. A question with no real answer. Yet, here we are, taking a look back...

• Waitress (doesn't everyone begin there?)
• Bank Teller (short lived...maybe 2 years)
• Salon Owner (starting in 1978)
• Married with kids 😁 (best part of my life...busy, but best)
• Home Education Teacher (simultaneous with being a salon owner...through grade 12)
• H.U.G.S. (Homeschoolers United Group Support...that I created and led)
• Yearly Curriculum Fair Organizer and Speaker (with attendees coming from across many states)
• Monthly H.U.G.S. Newsletter Developer
• Library Developer for H.U.G.S. parents (the "how-to" of home education)
• Drama Team Coach (Images of Grace at Fellowship of Christians in Miami, OK...also performing twice at NEO's Fine Arts Center auditorium...such an exciting time! We made headlines in local paper. 😁)
• Pizza Restaurant Manager (short term...talk about HARD work!)
• Owner, Manager, Stylist of 3 Salons (2 in OK., 1 in NC)
• Co-Pastor at LifeGate Church for 7 years in Miami, Ok. (you didn't know that, am I right?)
• Child Care for 4 years (my beautiful 1st grand baby, from 2 months old - 4 years, while working evenings and weekends at the salon)
• Blogger (since 2010...https://www.marysworldmiami.blogspot.com)

I'm not saying I'm unique in any of this. Most of us fill our hours, our days, weeks, months, and years, with as much as the hours will allow. Only to fall exhausted into the bed at night and wake hitting the floor running before the sun rises the next day. It's common place to most. This is life. 

But change has happened for me that I didn't believe would happen, at least as quickly as it did. As the years sweep past us, when we're not watching, we change. Will the past define me? Will the knowledge I have gained over a lifetime, catapult me into something larger than life? Something the whole of has created within itself? Or will I ride off into the sunset, doing as little as possible? Stay tuned...

Starting small, consistently (if you can consider building a greenhouse, small...), here you will find me...in Mary's World.

Shine On

When the lights go out, when darkness totally engulfs us, even a small flicker of light is a welcomed sight. Wouldn't you agree? 

When this happens at our house, we usually grab our lanterns...not the candles. Unless we can't find the lanterns. That's happened on occasion. 😆 THEN, we go looking for the candles; which there are plenty of in our abode.

Darkness doesn't understand light, so it tries to hide from it. Yet, darkness must relinquish its space wherever there is light. It must vanish because it's been exposed. One could relate a life filled with lies to a life vacant of light. Lies spoken, never like being exposed. Lies want to be in control of truth. But it's not possible. Lies can't hide when truth shines into any realm of darkness.

I'm not a person that will cover a lie. I've been the recipient of too many of them. I am allergic, you might say, to lies. Even withholding a portion of the truth, is deception, to me. And deception is no better than a lie. That's why I'm pretty dangerous when it comes to kids fantasies about fictional characters. If you want to keep Santa as a real person who flies through the sky, with reindeer pulling a sleigh filled with toys for all good little boys and girls, and is able to come into your house by entry of a small chimney opening, you shouldn't allow your littles to ask me questions concerning the validity of it. Now, I WILL tell them how Santa got his beginnings, as well as the truth behind the celebration of Christmas. If your littles ask me questions about the truth behind any pagan holiday, I will not tell them their fantasies are indeed real. Don't misunderstand me, here. I WILL play along. I do love pretend. The imagination takes flight and I can conjure up just about anything that involves the easter bunny, the tooth fairy, Santa, etc, and make it fun for our littles. However, if asked point blank about the REALITY of these characters, I will not, can not lie. I will burst the balloon, for sure. For which I will never apologize. It's one thing I hold onto. Truth...

I want my children and my grand children to remember their Mom and Grams as being someone they could trust to tell them no lies. But until the day comes that I am confronted with the truth, I will most likely play along. Is that deception? Maybe...but to keep my family close, I lure them with fantasy. Yikes! That sounds a bit contradictory. 😳 See what thinking will get you? Time to end this... 😂

Shine on...

Flickering, here you will find me...in Mary's World. 

The Clock is Ticking...

"No one is useless to God. No one." ~Max Lucado

As I get increasingly closer to a phrase I believed would never become my reality (retirement), feelings of "now what?" follow me daily. Yes. I did think this through before playing my cards. Yes. I did intensely labor over this decision. Yes. I did wait for several confirmations before opening the door that would eventually close the door. Now, the fruit of that seed planted, is beginning to come forth.

Regardless of the peace I am feeling about that decision, my mind seems to be attacking me, of late. As I disconnect from humanity, will I simply dissolve into the earth? Dramatic, you say? Maybe a bit. I can be that way at times. Especially over such important decisions as this most recent one. The reason (most likely) of these attacks comes from the fact that all I've known in my lifetime, is work. What happens when I no longer "work?"

Defined as a privilege, not a dirty word, work has provided communication with those other than family members. Work has given me a sense of accomplishment. Work provided purpose as my integrity built. Work provided connection, friendship within the workplace, and a place to call my own, as others allowed me access into their lives. Work created monetary provision and a big sense of accomplishment. Yes. Accomplishment is so important in a life well lived. So...now what?

Will my greenhouse be enough? Yes, it will be refreshing. It will be a place of peace. It will be soothing to my soul. It will give nourishment. It will inspire. It will possibly give me entrance into a small piece of my mother's world. But will it be enough?

Possibly, this is a time of pulling aside from the noise of the world. Possibly, this is a time of refreshing. Possibly, this is a time for me and God to communicate more freely. Possibly, this is a time of returning to my roots (no pun intended). Possibly, I have been waiting for such a time as this and these feelings of uselessness will evaporate. Possibly, there will be new life waiting for me that I have been blinded to. Possibly...

Soooo...if you need to find me, here I will be...in Mary's (ever changing) World.

Preparing the Garden

New beginnings

At the moment, this little piece of heaven looks a bit like a gravesite, but we're still in the beginning phase of creating. Something must be sacrificed in order for something else to live, right? This space used to have a WoodPlay playground for our granddaughters; all inclusive with swings, monkey bar, rock climbing wall, slide, and tower with windows and an outside seating area that was used as an ice cream shoppe. Lots of great memories. But the one constant in life is change. Sometimes painful change, but the girls rarely used it any longer (school & friends), so we reimagined it and...well, great things are coming. And we DID add another swing area, because we ALWAYS need to swing. The memories of years gone by will live on, but it's time for life to fill this space once again.

Many have asked me, "What's next for you?" This. This is what's next. This is the place of new beginnings. A place where a greenhouse will be erected. It's a place I never, in my wildest dreams ever, thought would be a part of my adult world. And, before anything can become reality, one must envision it, right? This particular dream had its beginnings in another's mind. Not mine. Our oldest daughter, always the visionary, believed it would be "just what the doctor ordered." The verdict is still out on that one, but we're about to see just how therapeutic this will be. She's rarely wrong, and I AM beginning to see; to dream, of what all it can be. I suppose one could say a seed has been planted. 😁

This I do know: My garden will be a place of peace and spiritual refreshment. It is my opinion that a garden should be a spiritual paradise. But, in order for it to be that, I must work at caring for what is put inside it; and like anything we put our hands to, we need encouragement. I do think I will create a plaque, and hang it in my greenhouse, that reads:

"The Lord will guide you continually, giving you water when you are dry and restoring your strength. You will be like a well-watered garden, like an ever flowing spring." ~Isaiah 58:11

It's a promise of God's constant presence and provision.

Getting my hands dirty, here you will find me...in Mary's World. Stay tuned...

 

The Next Big Thing...

Those of you who know me, know I can't just fade off into the sunset, right? I'm not one that can idly twiddle thumbs for any length of time. There's only so much imagination that can develop from doing nothing but watch the grass grow.

As time continues to evolve from days to weeks, I can feel that old friend of mine trying to catch up to me. The friend that is constantly nudging her way into my conscience thoughts, whispering in my ear..."Will it be enough?" "What will you do when loneliness builds a fort next to your garden?" "Why didn't you at least make an effort to show yourself friendly when you had the chance?" I will admit, this is the biggest concern of mine as I transition from being a very visible business owner, to a stay-at-home human who is creating an alternate life, that seems a bit foreign, yet has deep roots. No pun intended. But, first things first...

My mom seemed to know everything about God's green earth and all the plants that grew from deep within its soil. From the food it provided, to its lush flower gardens. She tended them both with such care. Such understanding of their needs. From the garden to the table was birthed in reality in our family, and our mother was the best (at virtually everything) in our part of the world. "In our neck of the woods," we used to say. Erna Prater could tell you the hour and the minute (at least it seemed to me) the green beans needed picked off their vines and exactly how long they would last before needing to be snapped and prepared for canning. Neighbors helped neighbors, back in the day. All hands on deck, kind of thing. Time was of importance, if a family was to have food enough to make it through our harsh Oklahoma winters. 

I envied my mom, even as a little girl. Oh my goodness...the bushel basketfuls we harvested of green beans in their season!!! The rows and rows of potatoes we dug from the ground! The onions! Not to forget the acres of corn we not only harvested, but shucked and canned, while keeping large batches out to cook on the daily. Plus, we shucked them by hand. No microwaves in my day, where one could just put them in for about 1 minute and they come out clean as a whistle. Nope. We grew up working for our food. The baskets of apples from the rows upon rows of apple trees that lived on OUR property, just waiting for our enjoyment and health! Beck and I would climb up a tree after school (the apple orchard sat between our one-room school house and our home), and we'd sit and eat as many as our bellies could hold. One bunch of fruit "trees" I'll never forget. The Concord Grape vines that grew just down the road from our school house! They were beautiful to look at, and so very thick with luscious grapes. Becky would climb the trees next to them and throw bunches of grapes down to me. She fell out of a tree, once. Scared the begeebers outta me seeing her all tangled up in the grape vines.

Our little family of 12 could do anything. Wellllll...in reality, by the time I came into existence, there were only 10 mouths to feed, and it wasn't long before there were just 7 children and 2 parents. My oldest sister, Helen, the first-born, had already moved away, had a husband and a daughter (Sydney Gail)...all before I was born. I was an Aunt, before I was born. Ha! My oldest brother, Melv, was away, somewhere, being a Navy SEAL fighting the good fight. On one of his furloughs, he took a picture of me, when I was around 18 months old, sitting in our front yard, wearing his SEAL hat on my extra large head. I think it fit. 🙄  So, by that picture I know he showed up on occasion. The third member of the clan, Don was living in California (I believe), when I was born. He had married and moved away. I really don't remember much at all about him, until I got much older, I just don't recall those first 3 being a part of our lives. That doesn't mean they weren't. It just means I didn't get to know them until I was considered an adult. Most likely because they had their own families and I don't think any of those first 3 had the honor of working at the Prater Sawmill. Lucky kids! I could be wrong on that. I don't have proof they didn't, but I was much too little to remember if they did. I did get to know them a bit better as an adult, except Helen. She lived in Tennessee and I was 14 years old before remembering I even knew who she was. My memories of those first 3 siblings are so scarce. But this blog post isn't about my siblings, as wonderful as they were/are. It's about the youngest of the clan. ME! 😉 "The spoiled one," they used to call me.

Wellll...this "spoiled one" learned how to work at a very young age. I'm grateful for that. Now. But I never got to really know my mom like I would have liked to. I knew her as the one who made sure we were all cared for. She was our nurse, our doctor, our care-giver, all rolled into one. We were always dressed in clean, pressed, hand made (by her) clothing; but only when heading to church, or school. The rest of the hours, we were in whatever we could find to pull onto our body's. Only shoes in the winter if our feet had grown too big by summer time. Then we were simply bare-foot if there were no shoes to hand down that fit properly. If our work demanded shoes, then our parents somehow found the money to get what was needed. Tummies were always satisfied with nutritious food. "Food for the hard workers," she would say. Two of the girls got to stay home and help mom. They worked hard, as well. Just more protected. I wasn't one of them. Dad took the healthy of the group with him to work the lower fields, the log woods, the sawmill, the cattle. There were two of us born not so healthy, so mom was allowed to keep them at home, away from places they could get hurt.

As you can tell, as a story teller, I tend to go down rabbit trails. One thought spurs another, and before I know it, the story has taken a turn from its original purpose. The only excuse I have for this is that I have lived enough of life that stories are in abundance. And since it is only one life I have lived (well, possibly two...NOW you're interested, aren't you), they all connect to each other. That's my best guess. 😂

Sooooo...would you like to take a peek into what I am working on for those pesky retirement years? If not, that's okay too. I'm most likely going to blog about the process anyway, as soon as things start moving over here. 

Until then, here you will find me...in Mary's World. Thanks for listening. You can wake up now. 😉

Transition Time...Resistance is Futile

The time has come. The time is now. Just like it was time for Marvin K. Mooney, it is time for me to "just go now." 

I've never been one to wait until the exact time of transition, to transition. This major shift is no different than the last in that I am in full prep mode. My mind has accepted the change and now my body must respond with action. That is what seems to be delayed...

They say knowledge is power. The preparation has been where the power has shown up, and has been on-going for nigh on a year; my understanding of what is staring me down is clear, yet I hesitate to begin the process, knowing full well what is coming. But it is coming. Soon. The plan is to let the promise of an exciting next chapter in the life of one MJLewis, to begin as soon as possible. Pretty sure there will be "phases" I will experience, as the fist clench hold onto the comfortable begins to release its grip. At least, that is what I'm telling myself. At most, it's completely true. The exciting part. Meaning the previous 50 year chapter, has been worn out and used up. Yet it somehow feels as if passion is giving way to something else. Something that isn't fully understood, just yet. And so it begins.

Switching gears here, staying true to form, I'm reminded of the transition of Jesus our Christ (since today is Easter Sunday), when the time had come for the cross. Thinking of the time he gave his all that we might have life, if we so chose. In the here and now. Before he came, there was no choice. It all was certain death. Getting more real, I wonder what his prep time felt like. I wonder if he resisted for a time (like I have) before finally giving in to what he knew he must do. According to Scripture, he did. He went to the garden and spent the entire night asking for "this cup to pass from me" if it be the will of the Father. UNLIKE me and the transition I am looking at, the cup HE spoke of was the one he knew he must drink from...for us to have life. Real life. The cup that demanded he give his life, so we could have ours. So he might renew our understanding of whose we were/are. To restore our memories of him. To remove the deception of the one who convinces us we are worthy to be seen as perfect, worthy to think we know ourselves better than God does, and to give us freedom from the one who hands out empty promises. 

We must consider the physical and mental pain Jesus surely endured. For you and me. For all of humanity. I don't mean to compare my decisions with those of our Lord and Savior's. It's just sort of ironic, the process one (anyone) must take when transitioning. There always seems to be the "hold onto what you are familiar with" before giving in and loosing the grip we have on it. Even when it's not in the best of circumstances. And yet, another story is forming in my head. Oh, the rabbit trails this mind of mine does take. First the natural, then the spiritual. They walk hand in hand. Always connected.

A few days ago, while listening to an interview (wish I could remember who it was with...didn't recognize the name), with someone who had near death experiences (three, to be exact), my attention was focused on what he was saying. He had been "dead" for 20 minutes and already in the cooler, on the first go around. With each experience, the transition from this life to the next, was the same. He never felt death. "It is like stepping from this life, into the next. No death," he said. "I was immediately in the presence of God," he continued. 

That's what Jesus did when he said, "It is finished." Death had no hold on Jesus. Now, it has no hold on us.

There are times that a particular piece of my past life will flash into my mind. I rarely enjoy those moments and leave them as soon as possible. Still, I realize that was a former me; a former "life". A former condition. It's all behind me. I transitioned from that life to this one. Yet, for whatever reason, everything seems to have a connection to, well, everything! For instance, from the beginning of time, we all have had the need of transformation. Ever since the days of Adam and Eve, visiting with the enemy of their Creator, transformation has taken place. From purity, to impure. Then back again to pure...of heart. Restored. Made new. For which I am eternally grateful to Jesus, the Christ...who makes us whole.

Today is the day we celebrate the resurrection of our Christ, defying death. The one who transitioned for us. The One who left his throne to become fully man, while still fully God, to bring us life. To show us the way to be complete. How to walk among the injustices of this temporary world. To love with a pure heart, not a deceived one. And to give the promise of an eternity spent with him. "Oh death, where is your sting? Oh grave, where is your victory?" ~I Corinthians 15:55

May 5th is the day I truly begin the next phase of this earthly life, as the presence of my business's decorated walls begin their own transformation. Still working behind the chair until May 24th, just in a different atmosphere, so-to-speak.

Transformation, in literal terms, will begin soon. Very soon...

Looking forward to this next chapter of life, here you will find me...in Mary's World.

Dad and His Sanctuary

Did you know a study has been done citing various physiological benefits of spending time in nature, including a decrease in stress hormones, sympathetic nerve activity, blood pressure, and heart rate? It would seem that some trees release aerosols that increase immune-fighting cells and even reduce fatigue. The term "forest bath" was coined in Japan and speaks of going to wooded areas for healing and restoration. Don't you find it the slightest bit interesting that science has discovered the restorative qualities of God's created world?  Something else I am finding interesting is the fact that I'm about to go full circle as this next part of my journey begins. Welllll...maybe not FULL circle, but I'm certainly looking back and considering walking at least a portion of the path I began on. It's also interesting all the surprises God is putting in front of me, lately. Not once have I considered "retirement" to be a thing for me. "It's not in my DNA," I would say. I was taught early on that work is not a dirty word, even though it may involve a bit of dirt. Work has always been a privilege to me. Sure, there were some jobs I had along the way that I did not like, but always appreciated what I gained from having them. Lots of lessons learned from the "School of Hard Knocks" as Dad would say. 

Dad was a pretty serious kind of guy, but if you watched closely, you would catch glimpses of his humor. He had the best smile! One would never guess he had so much on his mind. So much responsibility. So much caring for the least amongst us. For those who struggled in life. Maybe he could relate to them. Having 10 (make that 12, counting himself and mom), mouths to feed, he and mom certainly had no time for themselves. Sure...they both had their sanctuaries. Mom's was her garden of flowers. She was grateful for the garden where our food grew, and tended to it daily, but her flower garden was her sanctuary. But dad...

Dad would tell us he would be back in a bit, and head to the upper pasture where there were plenty of trees to prop up against, and plenty of open space to knell and seek instructions for the life he had been called to. I'm fairly certain he enjoyed the large patches of blackberry clusters he had to work his way around, as he headed toward his favorite tree. He most likely grabbed a few along the way, being careful not to reach in too far because of the chiggers that would attach themselves to him. Chiggers are a definite distraction!

As a child, I often wondered what he was doing in the woods for such a long time. As an adult, I pretty much know. Yet, I can only imagine the groanings he must have presented to God. Or the amount of worship he offered, as he thanked God for sending his son to cover our sinful nature and for the Holy Spirit who guides us when we don't know up from down, or just how we can manage the days and nights of being given the charge to guide others, in addition to taking care of his own family. 

As children, at least back in the era from which I came, we were not allowed in adult conversation. I can 't recall a time when I was even aware such a thing was happening. Yet it must have been. I do remember a time that I overhead Dad telling Mom the church he pastored had warned him about his new found faith of being holy spirit filled. He would have to leave the church if he preached about it. He loved the people of that church, so much so, that he withheld what God had shown him, had poured into him. Having heard this conversation, I was affected by it. In a most negative way. I wondered how he felt, knowing God had given him fresh understanding, yet wasn't permitted to share it with those he held close. Did he struggle because of it? Pretty sure he did.

Still, Dad had his sanctuary that he visited almost every day. There wasn't much time that he could remove himself from the daily needs of working a farm and running a sawmill. He had to make the time; remove himself from that life, in order to navigate it. I wonder if his heart pulled at him as he waited for the time he could commune with God and nature, knowing it was there he could let everything go while reaping the psychological benefits of spending time, alone with his thoughts, as he stepped from all the distractions that pulled him down. He must have loved his time with God. He must have loved the freedom his spirit felt as he encountered God's life-giving presence. It's what held him together. Of this I am sure. Simply put, Dad's sanctuary healed and restored him.

This blog post was formed to remind me of this fact, should I ever get too busy in this retirement I never saw coming. We all need a sanctuary. One that lets us commune with nature. One that allows us to breathe in deeply and exhale slowly. I know no better place than in God's tree filled forests with open skies that allows our soul to stretch and leave behind (if even for a moment in time), the cares that pull at us daily. My sister, Becky, could tell you how refreshing it is. Probably the reason she loved Colorado's mountains and waterfalls. And the reason she uninvited me (you read that right), and my husband from going on a trip with her and Den one year. But that's another story...

Looking for my "forest bath", as always, here you will find me...in Mary's World.

Change Within the White Space

Photo by Lindsey Lewis

Some days I actually get all the needed sleep, but most days I wake early. Really early. Like 3 AM early. Or 4 AM. Some days it's even in the 2 AM hour. Today it was a bit after 4, and my mind instantly formed a prayer for the day. This was the response it sent me: Change happens when in the white space. 

No, I haven't gone stir crazy just yet. Still have a working business for a few more weeks. Eight more, to be exact. My head is just swimming with navigation at the moment. To explain myself, so much is happening right now in my world. I won't bore you with details, but I will tell you that white space is a needed time for me. Time to set myself aside without obligation. It's where change actually begins. It's a time to settle, think, assess, and simply be present in life. It's a time to breathe easy. Our minds do need breaks from time to time, right? Mine does, at least. And for me, it's mostly a time to rest in God's presence, simply to wait for Him and the wisdom I feel He pours into my heart. It's what I love most about this particular season of change. Not only has Spring (new life) begun in the natural realm, but one might speculate that a type of Spring (new life) has come to the natural realm of my own life. Possibly the spiritual, as well. I'm here for what is staring me down.

Today, the nuggets of truth that God extended to me; verses I have known all my life, was brought to my attention. God knew I needed to revisit these today. 

• Do not be afraid; do not be discouraged, for the Lord your God will be with you wherever you go. ~Joshua 1:9 
• Trust in the Lord with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding. ~Proverbs 3:5 
• I will instruct you and teach you in the way you should go; I will counsel you with my loving eye on you. ~Psalm 32:8
• There is a time for everything, and a season for every activity under the heavens. ~Ecclesiastes 3:1
• Do not be anxious for anything, but in every situation, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. ~Philippians 4:6
• Therefore, we do not lose heart. Though outwardly we are wasting away, yet inwardly we are being renewed day by day. ~2 Corinthians 4:16
• The heart of the discerning acquires knowledge, for the ears of the wise seek it out. ~Proverbs 18:15

Have you ever thought about the "coincidence" of everything being connected? Like when you see something in the natural realm of living life and simultaneously see God in it?  Even the written word will come to life when attended to. Just as we ourselves come to life when our life is attended to. Physically, and spiritually. 

Now, connect the spiritual with the natural. Consider the line spaces that a paragraph gives us. Just like the one created by starting this new paragraph. They give us "white space" intended for a moment to refocus...giving us time to consider what the topic is and what it's really about and what its importance is. They also enhance readability. Right? They are meant for focusing the reader...and possibly a thought change. A redirection. Just as God redirects us in the "white space". First the natural, then the spiritual, then comes understanding.

I'll leave you with why "white space" is important in the natural AND in the spiritual:   

1) It gives us clarity while reducing visual clutter. 

2) It creates a visual hierarch, of sorts, causing us to see the most important elements. 

3) It gives us balance. Who amongst us doesn't need that?!

Did you just connect the dots between the natural and the spiritual? What I'm saying is that everything is connected by God's design...if we but look. If we but see...

Paying attention, and hoping you find your white space, here you will find me...in Mary's World. #embracingthenewnormal #embracingchange #leaningintoGod #theforgottenway

The Next 50 Years

"Why Greenhouse Gardening is Your Next Best Adventure: Greenhouse gardening is an extraordinary journey that opens up new horizons for every kind of gardener. It transforms the way we interact with plants, seasons, and even our own sense of creativity and self-sufficiency." ~Introduction to The Year-Round Greenhouse Gardening by Dr. Arnold Stones

Sounds intriguing, yes? Somehow, I feel like the next 50 years will introduce me to my momma. Somehow, I feel like I will get to know her like I never had the opportunity to do while growing up. I was only able to catch glimpses of her because my job was at the sawmill, in the log woods, at the cow barn, in the fields, but not so much in the garden.

Oh, I do remember her! I remember her laugh, her sweet spirit, her gentle way of caring for our needs, the delicious smells that came from her kitchen, the loaded boards of Christmas goodies freshly baked in her wood burning oven. Even the rationing of the occasional soda pop. She would purchase ONE small bottle for herself (a rare thing), but if one of her kids spotted it (usually me), she would pour no more than 2 sips, then save the rest for when she could really use a pick-me-up. Birthing, and raising 10 kids, I can only imagine just how much she needed this. Yet, she never refused her own. Yes, there were very special times with her, yet I missed so much of the only hours the days offered because I had to be where she wasn't.

So, now that I have officially retired from my chosen industry of the last 50+ years (come June 2nd), I have decided, with the encouragement of our girls, to allow myself to indulge in my next best adventure. I'm hoping I will get a glimpse into the world of my mom. Maybe something will stir inside me. Maybe I can be a part of who she was. Maybe I can be a part of her legacy by understanding life a bit more. Life as it was intended.

Going back to my roots (pun intended), and starting small, here you will find me...in Mary's World.

Next Chapter?

Last Saturday, as a dear client and I were conversing about my upcoming retirement from the industry that has been part of my life for the last 50+ years, I may have mentioned something about this being the last chapter of my life. I do believe in miracles, but at the same time I am pretty much a realist. Truth is a solid mantra of mine. Can't tolerate deception. Anyway...much like a good book, the last chapter should have the answers to the mysteries exposed in its previous chapters. Right? At least one would hope so. It should be the most exciting, yet sorrowful that it's ending, chapter. My client for the last 6 years, as she sat while color processed on her hair, looked up at me with the kindest eyes, and said, "But it may not be the last chapter. It may just be the next chapter. The next adventure." Crazy...I had never thought of that. It took me aback for a second or two. I've always seen life in segments; First, Middle, Last. Could there be another chapter before the last? Now I'm excited!

I will miss this client! I think coffee and maybe lunch must be in our future. She is more than just a deep thinker. She is a world changer, a person that rearranges others ways of thinking to come to the best solution for the problems at hand. A problem solver. I love how she sparks my thinking; how without even realizing it, she causes me to probe deeper in my own analysis of any given situation. I really love the thought of this being only "my next chapter", and not my "last chapter."

I think I may have mentioned in another blog post, that I also have a client who says she can't wait for the return of our Lord. But my heels are a little dug in and they're asking for more years, here, on planet Earth. I have all of eternity to be with God and all the Elohim. But to see our grand-babies grow to maturity, to be a part of their lives (no matter how large or small), is the desire of my heart. So, "the next chapter" sounds really, really good. I can wrap my head around that one. And my heart...

This has been the hardest page, in my book of life, to flip. While I do love a good book, and even though my own story is full of sit-on-the-edge-of-your-seat kind of things, I'm not quite ready to end it. So, turning the page of interacting with various nationalities, various personalities, various life styles, has been excruciating for me. Each one has added value to this life's journey. 

I began considering joining the ranks of the retired a little more than a year ago. But my fists were clenched with only a small amount of give to them. I held on tightly most days, feeling if I loosened my grip I would be entering the last phase of life, and who's ready for that?! 

As the year progressed, small things began to reveal a path forward. Away from all I had known my entire life. Work has never been a dirty word to me; it has been a privilege, a blessing that not all can navigate. But, as this last year wore on, God began to show His divine intervention. This industry had always been my feel-good place. My ego stroking place. My affirmation. My purpose. My platform. My escape. There was a lot of "MY", even though I always acknowledged that it was by the grace of God that I lived, and moved, and had my being. I have always been grateful for the road He had prepared for me and couldn't imagine anything changing. I actually thought I would continue in this industry until my body could no longer tolerate it. "Retirement" just wasn't in my DNA. I love to work! Give me something to do, other than idle the hours away where the mind goes south and the body soon follows.

I'm still not 100% sure what the future holds for us, but I'm here for it! Maybe a small greenhouse in our backyard, where our grand kids used to play on the WoodPlay Swing Set and Tower that nestled under the trees and the beautiful Wisteria dropped its petals in season. Maybe that will become a reality and our littles can help seed, plant, create, and water. Wouldn't that be fun?! It's already a vision in my minds eye. I can see the layout clearly. The inviting blooms and plants that surround its base, with ferns and lights hanging from the attached pergola. Maybe some pavers joined together and strategically placed to hold a couple of chairs and a small fire pit for when the cooler temps hit North Carolina. 

And who knows...maybe a trip to the mountains will be in our future.

No matter where life takes us, here you will find me...in Mary's World.