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 giving 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.

So...the Deed Has Been Done

My emotions have ran the gammet this past week; even more so since the announcement that few saw coming. Granted, the big decision has been playing ball with me for some time now, and up until last week, I had always won. Many debates as to why I should, and why I should not, have been voiced. Lovingly voiced. Time, and time again...

And now, here I sit, stirring the mushrooms in my coffee with the cinnamon stick that sits lazily in the coffee cup until needed. I'm tired. Very tired. Not only did what I thought to be allergies/sinus issues, turn into a full blown head & chest cold, sleep also, has escaped me for nigh on a week now. I'm tired. Really tired. Yet, I force my body to come under subjection and move forward. Except for this moment. Needing a chair to take the weight of my body off my feet, at least for a moment, I chose the tried and true; the faithful office chair. I do love my office. My study. My hide-away. I do.

Still coughing up a lung and a half, I navigated the back-and-forth of STAY OUT OF MY SALON messages over the weekend. Yet, the messages just weren't taking hold, or they hit more than one wall and was took out, never to live. I'm a person that always crosses my "t's" and dot my "i's". It's the best I can do to preserve my way of life. Yet the unexpected has a way of happening, regardless of how hard one tries to escape it. And therein lies my distrust of humanity. Even my own humanity...sometimes.

To say I am super happy that I installed a Foscam (that's a story for another time) inside my studio, is an understatement of mega proportions. As I think about the ramifications of what would have happened, had it not been on duty yesterday, makes me take deep breaths of gratitude, when I can get one. A deep breath, that is. That sweet little addition caught workers hired to upgrade a few things (floors & mirrors), in the process of taking my salon apart, piece by piece. Most likely, I startled the begeebers out of them when my groggy, hoarse & raspy voice (that gurgled and sneezed occasionally from irritated nasal passages), came yelling through the small voice command center. "STOP! WHY ARE YOU IN MY ROOM?!!" I tried calming myself, as I knew it wasn't their fault. They were there to do their job as ordered, and with a tower of jewelry in their careful hands, they froze in place. It appears that I wasn't the only one who has cut the cord...if you know what I mean. It's likely you don't, 'cause I'm not always clear.

I have spoken to several of the workers, off and on, during the time they have been in the studios, tearing up and replacing. They seem really nice, so I'm kinda sorry I yelled at them. But I wasn't sure if the thing (the Foscam) really worked or not. It was the first time I had to use it. So I yelled. I was suppose to, right? They showed me their work orders, so I had to be the mean suite owner, and assure them I had covered the confirmation of putting my studio renovation on hold until I moved out, aka/closed my business, and to please contact their supervisor.

Did I mention how tired I am? Anyway...I had to push my body out the door and head to the salon, a 7 minute drive that happened in 3. Maybe 4. They had indeed stopped removing, and had gotten everything back in the studio by the time I arrived. All I had to do was reposition and re-clean what had been moved out. I survived...

So...back to paragraph ONE of this rabbit trail:

    The deed that had been planned to run so smoothly, the RETIREMENT on my 78th birthday announcement, had suddenly taken a deadly turn. 

        Not a good turn. The social media content had launched before it was suppose to since I didn't "schedule" it. My fault. Kinda. 

When I am deep in thought, 

            deep in the mix of whatever is needing done; 

                        to be distracted in the middle of it, well...I can't be held responsible for what transpires.

So, that happened last Sunday. Throbbing headache, blurry eyes, and achy body had to move quickly. Something my brain wasn't ready for. The emails had to be sent (since social media had been notified) without being as complete as I had planned. I suppose another email blast is in order for a bit later.

Something (business room mistake), I suppose, had to be added to the mix just to make this whole thing a memory hard to forget. Gotta love those memories. The good, the not-so-good, the undesirable.

I am soooooo tired of laying in bed, but now I think it's calling me again. But first, where's the Tylenol?

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

Grief Is Personal & Individual, With No Rules or Timetables

Tuesday, March 9th, 1943, was the day my sister Becky breathed the earths atmosphere into her tiny lungs. Today would have been her 82nd birthday, had she stayed. But...on Wednesday, July 23rd, 2008 at 5:23 P.M., heaven received her back and earths atmosphere released its hold on her.

Had God intervened and said no, possibly she would still be an active part of my life today. But instead, He welcomed her home releasing her from the pain and untold suffering she was experiencing from the unimaginable effects of PSP.

Progressive Supranuclear Palsy is a rare brain disease that allows the brain to continue sending messages to the body, but confuses them before they reach their destination. She was literally trapped inside her beautiful body that had no way of obeying the commands sent to it. No way of communicating. No way of making her desires known. No way of caring for her own personal needs. And yet, she chose the way of least resistance. She willed her life to be subject to the grace of God that allowed her to get through what must of been the most horrific existence, which in turn provided her to live out what time the disease allowed, in total peace. She trusted those she loved. She trusted her God. It was God's grace that held her. God's grace that showed her the way through the hardest of mountains that denied movement. And the most depended on was her husband. She couldn't have asked for a better care giver. He gave up his own life to become hers.

It's true...he didn't experience the effects of PSP like she did. But he did experience PSP by watching his beloved suffer. While she was still able to speak, she let him know that she trusted him completely with the choices he made for her care as the disease overtook her. It must have been quite the conversation. He asked for help only a few times. Times he needed assistance while learning how to serve her every need. He shouldn't have had to ask.

And now, 17 long years have flown by, yet I miss her still. Some days are harder than others, but I'll always remember how she encouraged me to live the life God has given me. Live it as though it depends on me to make it good. "You can't change anyone but yourself," she told me. She always spoke truth, never sugar coating it. Truth, she knew, was the only way to set someone free from their (usually self imposed) prison(s). Strange, I feel her presence as I type this, tears once again demanding release from my own body.

Grief and loss have strange ways of progressing. Each individual will experience them differently as they navigate the life that is still bound to earths atmosphere. There are no rules. No timetables. Never progressing from one stage to another, easily. Nor can it be controlled. It's okay to let tears bring about healing, for they will if we but let them. I can't say we will ever be totally back to "normal", but we will gain a sense of what is truly valuable and what is not.

Becky will be with me always, even though I can't physically touch her. She was my protector, literally and spiritually. Coming from such a large family, it usually fell on the slightly older sibling to watch out for the younger. She was mine. She did her job well, even when I resisted and went against her instructions. Ready to receive me back to where she could once again watch over me. How I must of worried her...

I went through several stages of grief when she left. At first I denied this could be happening. The slow progression that took over her body. Then, I felt angry that God could be allowing this to happen. I never bargained with God, like some do. Still, depression hit me like a ton of bricks. Why her? Why not me? She seemed so innocent. So undeserving of this. Eventually I allowed myself to reason it out with God. Allowing truth to speak its peace to my heart. I still miss her, but am getting closer to seeing her again. How quickly the years fly past us, even if some days they seem to crawl out their existence.

I leave you with this: We must treat ourselves with kindness and compassion. No judgement. No what ifs. We have a right to grieve and no one (not even ourselves) can tell us when it's time to end the process of grieving. Seventeen years later, I still grieve. I still love, I still live. But some days, I just need a good cry.

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

Seeing Into the Mind of One MJLewis

Read on for just a tiny piece of the large puzzle I am working on...

These last few months I have had more on my mind than most of the entire last year. I've always strived for perfection. Perfection in whatever my hands find to do. I was raised this way and it has stayed with me. Some would say it was closer than any friend I've ever had.

Actually, I think most of us are this way, whether we believe it to be, or not. We want to grow and flourish in whatever we find to do. Yes? Whatever our lives consist of, we want it to be the best it can be.

Yet balance is so important in life. To expect instant gratification is to hold onto so many things, while hoping nothing is going to drop. Hoping that others see us. Hoping they confirm our existence, because we, ourselves, wonder if we are important. To anyone. I know, it's childish thinking, but so many adults walk this earth just needing to be seen. And I know why. But this is not about that.

It's my opinion (I have one...so do you), in order for a well balanced life, we must take a step back from our overwhelmed normal days and find a place of peace that will allow some things to just drop, without trying to catch them, if it means we will be able to hold other things more closely.

This may look like not saying yes to everything, but saying yes to only a few very good things. And in this revelation comes the battle of the mind. It will show us all the reasons why this line of thinking is just a bunch of misguided crazy thoughts. It will tell us to stay the course, then throw the "what ifs" at us. We prepare our lists of pros and cons, just to throw them out and begin again. And again...

I am not overwhelmed at this stage of my life. I have been overwhelmed, in years gone by, in my growing years...but not today. So you could say I believe myself to be bit of an expert on this matter. I came here to say that too much of anything brings with it the impossibility to balance any of it, and it will become a place of chaos. Not peace. And the family suffers as we continue living on this merry-go-round. At some point we must remember that only we, ourselves, determine who want to be. We find our peace, our comfort, our existence, when we find our Creator. The perception that we need to please others so they will find us pleasing, is a myth. A lie, of sorts. Once we realign with God, we will find balance and then be able to release the unimportant things we have believed to be important.

Soooo...Spring is looking at us this very moment. It's so close we can feel it, see it, anticipate it. It's the perfect time to breathe in and exhale. The perfect time to let go of the unnecessary, so we can hold the really important close.

Today, you have seen into a tiny nook of my mind, which I believe to be stable. Mostly...

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

To Boot, or Not to Boot

Wellllll...I finally went to see a foot doctor about the pain that causes me to limp. Painfully. Took me only a little over 2 months to give in to the idea I may need to see a doctor. Turns out I have a bit of Peroneal Tendonitis of the right lower extremity. Simply meaning the tendons on the outside of my right ankle are very inflamed. And pretty mad at me for some reason. Doc says it usually comes from over use and repeated stress. Hmmmm...wonder where THAT comes from. 😂

Soooo...the above was written last Thursday, Feb. 13th. I was so frustrated with the doctor because of what I saw on my health portal. The things he claimed he had done during my visit, just weren't true. It's so hard for me to trust doctors anyway, because I feel many of them add "services rendered" (that actually haven't been) just to milk our insurance company, thus causing the rates to sky rocket.

Anyway, that was then, and now it now. He had given me the "good news" that he could fix the problem by having me wear the clunker of all boots, for 2 weeks. I did try it the following day. Wore it the entire day and ended up with a really bad back ache from the mirrored twin foot not being as high as the platform the boot provided, thus throwing off...well, everything. The ankle and foot DID feel somewhat better, but now my back was killing me. I knew I'd never be able to wear that monster all day at work. So I didn't...

Today, one week later, I went for my first walk about the neighborhood since the first of December, last year. Just as I left the house it began snowing again. MY KIND OF WEATHER!!! Got in 1.5 miles of pure bliss. My face became pretty cold in the 19 degree weather, but the rest of me was warm and snuggly. I was prepared. 😁  As my feet hit the snow covered pavement, my back straightened significantly causing me to walk a bit taller than I have in awhile, It was as if there had been extra morphine pumped into my body causing an unexpected pace to prevail. 

It was a great walk. With snow flakes pelting me in the face and a gentle wind blowing them across the path I had chosen, my spirits lifted from their lackadaisical existence of protecting the wounded foot. It's pretty amazing what a short walk can do for a persons complete being. Turns out the foot got all better by itself without the boot. Just took a few months. Hmmmm... 

Loving this weather for getting back into the swing of things, here you will find me...in Mary's World.

The Beauty of Stillness

Ah...the beauty of new falling snow amongst winters frigid temps. Why is snow so mesmerizing??? Did you know that snow absorbs sound? The atmosphere becomes so peaceful, it seems almost ethereal. The landscape it falls on becomes visually stunning as it reflects large amounts of light while calming all our senses. Nostalgic memories begin their dance as we remember days of our youth during a time when responsibilities were few.

How I wish it would continue throughout the day and into the evening hours. How I wish it would stay awhile, like an old friend that comes for a visit just to confirm she still remembers you. But it won't. Not here in North Carolina. It never does. Not like it does in Oklahoma. I shouldn't expect it though...not really. Living in the South, all the "weather" we get is rain...mostly. It's kinda funny how I've always said we were a mid-west transplant. Come to find out, Oklahoma is more of a SOUTHwestern state. Who woulda thunk? One never stops learning. Until....well, you know. 

As I look out my study window, all seems so settled. So at peace with itself. No travelers, to speak of. No birds singing. No squirrels running around chasing each other...just softly falling snow. In our backyard, the children's swings remain still, the fire pit is covered in a white blanket of snow, and the arbor that shares the beauty of new life during the spring and summer months, now is nestled under bare tree branches that hang low, as if to guard against the chance of a howling wind. They aren't aware of their bareness, I suppose. And the wind is still, this beautiful snowy day. 

Enjoying the beauty of our Creator, and a cup of coffee, here you will find me...in Mary's World.

Navigating the Unknown

You've heard it many times. So have I. "I think I'll just move to the mountains and live in a cave somewhere." Or similar utterances. Why do people find it appealing to be alone? So alone that only nature surrounds them?

Could it be because nature isn't demanding? Maybe because it's not as active/busy as where we now live? Less noise, less activity. Nature is peaceful (mostly) and beautiful (mostly). The one thing I think is more of a reason is because it never complains or requires us to do anything for it. It doesn't expect anything of us, other than respect for it.

Years ago, sometime mid year 2012, God spoke a living word to my heart. "Wherever you find yourself to be, there I am." In other words, I couldn't remove myself from one place to another, and be void of God. He has promised to never leave us. Never forsake his children. When we become parents, we understand this, yes? Well, we were preparing for the big move from Oklahoma to NC. during this time of asking God for direction. I love change. I do. I just wasn't so sure what our future was going to look like in NC., and I really like knowing what to expect when change happens. Yet, all I was sure of was this was a God thing and we would be okay. 

A new adventure was facing us down. The decision had been made and we were excited to be "just down the road" from our girls, but for the first time in my adult life, I had no clear vision of the next 5 years. I knew what steps we were suppose to take, but it was the hope of finding solid ground once those steps were taken, that had this visual brain of mine, swirling. I compared my thoughts to a fishing cork bobbing along in a vast ocean with no particular destination. I/we would be at the mercy of the unknown. At least for a time. That, I believe, is why God spoke to my soul. A reminder...to steady me.

I confess I tend to worry way too much, and our destination was halfway across the US of A. Much bigger than we were accustomed to, as well. I remember, when visiting our girls (while we were still residents of Oklahoma), they would take us out to eat. On one of the first outings, as we were leaving the eating establishment (I think it was Carolina Ale House), I looked out amongst the sea of cars in the parking lot. I wondered then how could so many people live in one area. How long would it take us to find our way around this huge place? But then again, we had Siri, who seemed to know everything. We just had to inquire of her. Now? Now I think the parking lot that held all those "sea of cars" isn't nearly as big as my initial evaluation of it. It's quite small, in fact, for all the eating establishments that one could choose from that it must serve.

We were already what most would call senior citizens, those many years ago, yet that wasn't what concerned me. I've always believed I could do anything I wanted, if I but tried. I just couldn't see exactly how this plan was going to work once we hit North Carolina. Yet, I trusted it would not only be good, it would be the beauty of what God had for us. The icing on the cake, so to speak. Still, having only the blueprint for the first step, I was working on balancing myself while waiting on instructions for the next. But I did have a deep seated peace. And joy. Excitement for this last season of our lives. Can one actually have joy while struggling with the "what ifs" of life? I would say most certainly. It's indescribable, really, the peace that surrounds the circumstances (are they really circumstances) of life...if one's heart is full of trust in the midst of life's issues. "Great peace have those who love your law, and nothing can make them stumble." ~Psalm 119:165

I've said all that, to say this: If it weren't for the joy God placed inside us, we would be like mice on a constantly moving wheel, running with no place to go. Maddening, right? Joy gives us strength for living. It allows us to walk in the sunshine even when the rain pours down. It gives us wings to fly when most of the world is walking. It gives us strength to persevere even under the worst circumstances. Joy keeps us steady while navigating a world filled with different personalities, different beliefs, different demands. Like God, joy doesn't evaporate when facing troubles, or, as in our case, pulling up deep roots for a replant in unknown soil.

Still smiling, while also loving the mountains of living (no need for a cave), here you will find me...in Mary's World.         

Faith...or Fear?

Today's Reasoning:

Have you ever considered the faith of a child? They trust you will help them grow while protecting them from harm. That's how God asks us to come to Him. With the faith of (as) a child. Warner seems to fear nothing. She will do just about anything to prove to herself, if to no one else, that she can do it. I love how she sees her world. So full of opportunities that she can be a part of if she but reaches for them.

Yet, as we age, life has a way of distracting us from the truth we once believed. We begin to see with our natural understanding as our eyes feed us information. The "what ifs" begin to pop up as we put our hands to the future we long for. It's when we lose focus of what we were created for, that chaos comes front and center. Travel with me for a short bit as we look at faith verses fear.

Faith is to believe what one has not seen. The reward of faith is to see what one has believed.

We all are driven by faith or fear...one or the other. Both are the same. Faith or fear is the expectation of an event that hasn't come to pass or the belief in something that cannot be seen or touched.

If we allow fear to guide us, we will always live on the edge of insanity. On the other hand, if we allow faith to guide us, we will always live in perpetual reward.

Many of us believe ourselves to be more of a realist, a person of reason, while never considering what drives us. Fear...or faith? You know what I'm saying. Right? We look at our situation(s) and begin the process of slicing and dicing it, trying to understand the why of it all. We look at all sides of it and consider the realistic parts of it. But, how often do we simply say to those situations, "I trust in the One who guides me. I know He is for my good so I will trust in what I cannot see."

Some things to consider:

1) Reason never makes room for miracles; faith releases miracles.

2) Between you and anything significant will be giants in your path.

3) Times of distress have always been what produced the greatest of mankind.

4) The hardest steel is produced from the hottest fire.

5) The brightest star shreds the darkest night.

As my days grow exceedingly shorter, I think of how it would feel to be chained to a mirror of regret, where I would spend eternity examining a reflection of the person I could have become, but didn't, because of the fears of all the "what ifs". Instead of trusting completely in the greatness God instilled inside me from the beginning of life, have I let fear guide me instead of faith?

It has taken me most of my time here on earth to understand we limit ourselves by living in the fear that we have no choice but to accept "what we've been handed." Much of the time, we believe "this is just my life," with no understanding of how to change it. So, we simply give up and live out our lives defeated. We have wasted the greatness of God.

I will leave you with this. Faith delivers a life of peace. However, it comes by way of choice. Just as fear does. The future, as we choose it, is ours. If we choose to ignore wisdom, the future God put within our grasp, will be lost.

Know this...

• Our past does not define us.
• We must seek wisdom.
• We must take action.
• We must not allow criticism, condemnation, nor complaint (even our own), to have control over us.
• We must choose happiness.
• We must choose to forgive those not deserving our forgiveness.
• And finally, we must persist in spite of difficulty. We limit our tomorrows by the doubt we hold onto today...

Jeremiah 29:11 says, "For I know the plans I have for you," declares the LORD, plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future." #myjourneyamongtheunseen #lifeissues #theforgottenway #faithorfear 

Thankful for the power of choice, here you will find me...in Mary's World

Me and My Shadow and My Foot

It's been a month, or so, since I've been able go for a morning walk. I miss it. The weather is really nice today, so I may go, regardless. Then when I get home I will need to get my leg up because I'm fairly certain there will be a price to pay for the excursion I'm about to embark on and desperately need.

That paragraph you just read, was typed out, then left to idle on the page while I went for a walkabout. I knew I wouldn't be able to go the distance, but maybe at least get out into the sunshine and allow the wind to blow over my face, easing my anxious thoughts, encouraging me that better days would be ahead if I just tried.

The walk lasted all of 15 minutes. Fifteen very slow minutes, with the last 10 being a bit more painful than I cared for. I feel like I have lost my momentum, but I will get it back eventually. Just as soon as I find out what in the world has happened to my foot. I can still work at the business, if I don't move around too much, since most of my services behind the chair are done in one position anyway, so I'm able to deal with the occasional bolt of pain that shoots up through the top of my foot and spreads out over the top as it reaches for the ankle, trying so very hard to stop me in my tracks. It will have to do better than that to stop this old gal.

Maybe I should check in with a doctor...

Also wondering when my shadow became bigger than me, here you will find me...in Mary's World

The Voice of the Unheard

In English we say: My voice is meant to be heard.

In Poetry we say: From the early morning rays of sun that cast shadows over the bare branches of winters icy blast, sparkling upon the newly fallen snow of last evenings unfiltered storm, comes a deep quietness. If one listens intently, you can hear the many voices calling out from somewhere deep inside themselves, yearning for a listening ear that embraces the voice that speaks, yet is not heard.

Looking for my voice, I have become mesmerized by a young lady who not only writes but also reads poetry on TicToc, which I'm not a part of (but ran across on FB). She inspires me to reach further inside my mental abilities just to see if I might cause one to scratch their head and wonder what in the world I'm saying. Fun, right? It won't always be this way. Just from time to time, when the mood strikes. I ran this first try at poetry by DW. He just smiled and said, "Lots of words." 😁 Exactly what I expected him to say. He's not wrong...

It's been soooo many years ago, but I can still hear my dad telling us that "Children are meant to be seen and not heard." Sometimes, I think we have swung too far the other way, and now adults aren't allowed to speak, while the kiddos make their demands. Why can't we just find that happy balance where all are respected and never interrupted while speaking? Why can't we all have a voice that is heard? I think about those that have been in my realm of living, that I now know; now understand, all that was needed was for them to have a voice. To be heard. These are the times I would go back to (if indeed I could), and listen a bit more intentionally. I would not only listen with my ears, but with my heart. Seeing beyond the why of needing to be heard. I have failed so many times in this arena, unwittingly inflicting pain. I wish I could have a re-do. Knowing what I know now...

We all have a path to walk, stretching for the perfect while never being able to fully reach it. But we can try. We can be kinder, gentler, more involved with the needs of someone other than ourselves. And when we fail, because we will, we will get up, dust ourselves off and try again. Always learning from the mistakes we've made along the way. Keeping them at the forefront of remembrance. I think the problem exists in the refusal to lay our own lives down for the sake of another. For the most part, I do believe we are a self-centered creature, with eyes always looking inward while rarely looking out for the needs of others. Is this the reason God asked us to love our neighbors as we love ourselves? And what about our loved ones? We say we love them more than we love ourselves. But, do we? If we truly loved, wouldn't we want them to know they have a voice. That we are listening? That we care about their needs, even though those needs may sound a bit childish? Rambling thoughts...

Of late, I have been in need of inspiration. The feeling of life has occasionally been so narrow, so minimal. As if I were living in a small black box. My walks have ceased...again, but think I'll try a short walk-about today, just to see if I can make it. The last few days (maybe it's been a week), have found me almost immobile, so I'm getting way too much TV time because I have no new books to read. I've done something to my right foot without knowing just when it happened and it's giving me a hard time walking without a limp and a ton of pain. Mostly along the length of the outer side of the foot, but will also shoot up my leg as it blasts over the top of the foot, as if a bolt of lightening just struck it. But, I gotta get back to work tomorrow. I may have to dig out D's cane that Styn made for him a few years ago. Geez, I miss that guy!

Okay. That's it for today!

Still learning to be quiet, listening more (without totally withdrawing), here you will find me...in Mary's World.

 

Today's Ponderings

While I don't believe that most "New Year's Resolutions" actually have longevity, I do believe in setting goals. Kind of the same, but with less intimidation, I think. Mine came only this early morning. At 4:36 to be precise. Up. since 2:22, working on finances and book work for the salon, all the while working in my day planner, it struck me as to what my physical body/mental acuity needed. Simply put, what my focus should be on, this year.

My journal entry?
1) Encourage myself DAILY!
2) Walk
3) Exercise
4) Meal prep weekly

Sounds pretty simple, right? In the spirit of transparency, I have struggled with several things recently.

1) What are the plans for Elements Salon this year?
2) What is causing this lackadaisical outlook for my health?
3) Where do we go from here, now that D has retired?
4) Why this attitude of indifference, lately?
5) What is happening with this once very strong body of mine?

The one thing I have always depended on, is the saving grace of God. The ever watchful eye of God. The unconditional love of God. The encouragement of God, even when I was proud of myself and believed it was just because of my own efforts that success found me. It was He who saved me from myself many years ago. Took a bit to get my attention, but He has his ways. Which are much more direct (yet subtle) than my own. It's almost as if humanity has blinders on, rarely seeing the reality of living this life. Just putting one foot in front of the other, hoping the next step lands on solid ground.

If I have learned anything, in my 77.5 years on this planet, it is because of Christ that I live and breathe and have my being. It is by his hand that I move, think, and implement all that I do. Yes. I do get to make my own decisions as to what I do, where I go, who I touch (or don't touch). But...when I listen, when I allow myself space to ask of Him the direction I should go, it is then my attitude of indifference fades. It is then that vision begins unfolding right in front of me. It is then that my eyes begin to see beyond myself. He is indeed, the God of hope.

Truth is, we must search, before we can find. We must ask, before we can receive. Until those moments envelope us, we walk by sight, not by faith.

Asking, and searching, here you will find me...in Mary's World.

The Power of the Tongue

I've been a bit on the angry and demanding side of a conversation, from time to time. It seems to come naturally for me, if not controlled. I could give you more than a few reasons as to why that has been a thing with me, and pretty close to when it all started. But I won't. Nor will I will ever forget the day our oldest, when only 4 years old, gently said to me, "Momma, it's deep within you." If anyone could pull a root of bitterness out, it would be this child.

We all have our reasons. Our excuses, as to why we are whatever way we are. But that's all they are. Excuses. We will try to make ourselves feel better about the fire that won't shut down inside us, by throwing the ball back to the accuser, and letting them know about their own less than acceptable mannerisms. Thus excusing ours. At least that's what we believe. 

The wedge that grows between two people, that should never have been allowed to develop in the first place, is pounded deeper inside the one trying to reason with the other, as to how their words are making them feel so very much unloved; has now separated them further than ever.

"Retreat!" is throbbing inside the wounded heart once again, as it has done so many times over the years. Because that's all its ever known. Because retreating gives a bit of relief...and space to become even more angry. More bitter. And you've tired (over and over again) to reveal what is happening inside your heart, but there has been no place of acceptance, thus far. On rare occasions, maybe. But it never lasts.

We've all heard the saying that "what goes around, comes around," right? And, "You get what you give." Is that what's happening here? Are unhealed wounds to blame?  How much of left over residue from past experiences are to blame? How much is unforgiveness of repeated injustices, to blame? How long is one expected to lick their wounds. Gross, right? RIGHT! Just typing those words made me gag!

I've often said, "One can convince another to jump off a bridge, if the tone of their voice is gentle." To me, the tone of our voice tells all. It says if the heart is pure, or deceitful. If it is good, or evil. If it selfless, or selfish. Words are just words that have little to no meaning, until they come from the intent of the deliverer. And we all know. We know the intent of the words by the sound they make when exiting the heart through the mouth. However, they can be misread. Often wounding unnecessarily. Often shredding open the scars of past experiences. Rarely holding close the heart, protecting at all cost. That come from a range of insecurities that reside inside the hearer, and sometimes within the deliverer of those words.

• "The tongue is a fire that can corrupt the whole body and set one's life on fire." ~James 3:5-6
• "Death and life are in the power of the tongue." ~Proverbs 18:21
• "Out of the abundance of the heart the mouth speaks." ~Luke 6:45
• "Be not rash with your mouth." ~Ecclesiastes 5:2
• "Even a fool who keeps silent is considered wise when he closes his lips." ~Proverbs 17:28
• "The tongue is unstable, evil, and full of poison." ~James 3:8-10

Ironically, this tongue of ours also holds the power of peace, love, protection. And it all comes from deep within. But, a time of eruption, whether gentleness, or harshness, the tongue will reveal the heart. For "Out of the abundance of the heart, the mouth speaks." ~Luke 6:45 

When harsh words find their release, my first instinct is to run. To hide. Yet, here you will always find me...in Mary's World.

When the Unexpected Happens...Light in the Darkness

You've laid out the plans. Plans with a strong vision of what your future can be if all goes as planned, and it does seem likely. You've done the math. The future looks bright; brighter than you ever expected it would. And then the unlikely, the unexpected, happens...

We've all been there. And if from some stroke of luck, or destiny, we haven't, sit tight. We will be. These times are the training grounds of life, and one never gets too old, too wealthy, too healthy, that one gets to avoid them. There's no circling the wagons. No air lifts. No rescues. One must travel the road until they get to the end of it, usually by way of the dark tunnel. Not always, however. I think it depends largely on our attitude. And our gratitude.

We were created for greatness. Not that we are "all that and a bag of chips," but that HE is all that, and a bag of chips. I hope I don't lose you by mentioning the great I AM. Truly, it is by his design we were created with creativity in our bones. Made in his likeness (all living things we see were because of his spoken words), we, also, are creative. When he breathed life into Adams lungs, all humanity was destined for greatness...if they so chose it. If we allow the spirit that gives us life, to lead us, even though we must walk an unexpected, possibly unwanted, path of learning to do without, we will also learn to be satisfied/content, regardless of our circumstances. Hopefully. That is the lesson we should learn.  

We are a blessed nation. Maybe even a spoiled nation. I do get it, however. Who doesn't want the best life has to offer? Or even the comfort that having "enough" offers? My hand is definitely raised! I don't need, or even want, multi-million dollar homes and all that money can buy. Just give me the comforts of life. Enough to keep the HVAC running, food in my tummy, clothes on my back, and a nice roof over my head. Health for my loved ones and something for my hands to do, and I'm all set. 

When I see what is happening to the landscape in California, with fires that can't be contained, with so much loss, my heart grieves for the residence of that state. For those who have lost all their worldly possessions; some without an ounce of insurance for a promise of rebuilding when this all consuming fire has left. Gratitude won't come easily for them. Maybe for some, but for most? I don't know. I do think most will be grateful for having their lives spared. But now what? It will most likely be a hard road ahead for many of them. The wealthy may even have to deal with loss that can't be replaced and the things they have become so accustomed to. But, for those with less monetary means, the road ahead must look pretty bleak as they face the many "mountains" they must cut through or climb over, all the while dealing with old wounds, as new ones are inflicted upon them. Gratitude may come hard.

I pray for them. For their eyes to remain open, their minds understanding the creativity within, and the fortitude to move forward, even if there may be temporary failures. "We are pressed on every side, but not crushed; perplexed, but not in despair; persecuted, but not abandoned; struck down, but not destroyed." ~ 2 Corinthians 4:8-9 

For those of us facing the unexpected (not necessarily as destructive as fire), my voice adds to yours, "Fear not, for I am with you; be not dismayed, for I am your God; I will strengthen you, I will help you, I will uphold you with my righteous right hand." ~Isaiah 41:10 

One last thing: God told us that in this world we would have troubles. But that we should not worry because he overcame the world. So could we. His spirit within us...remember?

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

 

 

The Voice of Winter

Tis true. Life continues. Bustling cities still bustle. Not a lot changes in the work place, but in the lives of all humanity, a return to simplicity begins as winters chill invades. Life becomes quieter as folks hibernate during the evening hours, welcoming the warmth of a crackling fireplace and cozy blankets while anticipating the relaxing feel of hot cocoa coursing its way across their sensory buds and into their bodies. Homemade soups, cornbread, and freshly baked cookies give a sense of well being as nourishment is supplied our tired bodies.

To me, Winter is a much needed reprieve from all the hustle and bustle of Spring, Summer, and even bits of Fall. Once September hits, I start breathing just a bit easier. By October, my mind starts preparing for the softness that cooler temps will bring, all the while, watching leaves on the trees begin their display of beauty, knowing it will be all too soon they must release their grip on what has given them life. If one watches closely, a tree will define humanity. There are seasons to life. Each season has a purpose, although very different.

November brings us remembrance to be thankful. Grateful, for all the preparation time we've had, hoping we've prepared enough. Enough to carry us through the peaceful season of reflection and the biggest change of all. Hoping we have left enough behind, so our family tree will be remembered long after winter has left its cloak of beauty upon the now barren limbs. 

It is the quietness of winter that I cherish the most. It is in the quiet places where my soul finds its peace. It's in the alone times of reading a good book, sipping on coffee, maybe having a favorite biscotti to nibble on, that I gain strength. Mental strength, which produces physical strength, if given opportunity. 

I do find purpose in every season, and would be sad without the variation, but the voice of winter always calls to me.

Waiting for the snow to arrive, here you will find me...in Mary's World.