The Girl Who Walks - Episode 5

It's been a minute since I wrote about the girl who walks. My influencer. My encourager. My inspiration. The last post about her, was on September 12th, 2024. At that time, she was going through some unexpected challenges and had to discontinue the walkabouts, so she might give herself time to heal. It was a sad day when the sun began to rise and she could not make the morning journey she had become accustomed to. The fresh breezes whipping her hair and causing her face to become rosy with the cold fall morning air rushing past, was something she was going to genuinely miss.

Those morning walks were more than just exercise for her. They were therapy. Creativity always came front and center as she envisioned all that could be. All that was within her reach if she only believed it possible. Those were the times of renewal for her. Times of quiet meditation as each foot slapped the roadway as if they were drum slap mallets, slapping a drum. She kept rhythm with each contact as if it were music instructing her of the value of life. Reminding her just how much she was loved, even though she battled to believe it. Those were the times God reminded her just how deeply SHE loved, and why. Those were the times she was reminded of the release from captivity of years gone by and how to bring every thought into subjection. To say she missed those times is an understatement.

The year between then and now, has brought so much change in her life. What she had always known, did a 180, and she began living a life that feels as if it must have been meant for someone else. This transition has required her to rethink many things. She's always known the beauty life brings, but now she has the time to notice more than what surrounded her when life was full of distractions. If she can only let go of what was...  

And now...she is back! The ligament that encapsulates the outer edge of her foot and stretches up and around her ankle, seems to have repaired itself nicely. It still reminds her, from time to time, to not over-do it. Still...the fresh morning elements beckon her...and she can't resist. She can't resist the urge to "come for a visit, child," as the Father of all, whispers her name.

Today's "feels like 45º "early morning weather provided the most amazing comeback she could have dreamed of. As she walked, her fingertips became chilled, the skin on her face welcomed the cold wind, and her hair grabbed every movement presented. There was a briskness in her walk that said she was back for the long haul. At last, she was alone with the God of the Universe, and possibly an angel, or two, out strolling on the neighborhood's quiet, early morning streets. 

Had it not been for the gentle reminder of tightening pressure the once-damaged ligament provided, she would have kept walking. Maybe another day, since we are heading into the cooler months of the year. Maybe the foot issue will strengthen as she uses it. I can't wait to see where these walks take her and what is spoken to her heart as she listens to the music of the steps.

Walking again, here you will find me...in Mary's World. #myjourneyamongtheunseen #walkabouts #lifeasIknowit #changecanbegood #theforgottenway #earlymorningwisdom

When Threats Become Real

Ha! The thinker...

It went down this past Monday evening. It had been a calm and rewarding day as we watched, in part, technicians repairing our crawl space issues of falling insulation, most likely caused by all the humidity our neck of the woods loves sharing with us. We have our HVAC system checked twice a year, and when the last inspection was complete, we learned a lot about the situation we had looming. So, once again, home ownership demanded more money.

We had a great crew working, and we enjoyed the back and forth conversations, when opportunity presented itself. I do believe that most of humanity is good. They want the same thing we want. Peace, prosperity, friendship, love, and agreeing to disagree on occasion.

It wasn't until the evening hours, long after the crew had left, that fear presented itself. Dennis, being the amazing father he is, had accepted a simple request of picking up an item, purchased off Facebooks Market Place, and delivering it back to one of our daughters. His truck comes in handy. He uses it for many things...mainly requests from me. 😉 So, today was no different than any other, until the unexpected happened. 

The pick up destination was a 40 minute drive, one way. It took him to a "questionable neighborhood", an unfamiliar neighborhood, that made him a little uneasy as the evening hours were about to enfold him. He had made the trip alone, as he does much of the time. Never fearful. Never concerned. That was about to change...

Progression of events as they happened once he arrived at said destination:

1) Item that was suppose to be laid out in front of the house, because it had already been paid for, was not in sight.

2) D knocks on the door, several times, with no response.

3) Eventually, the garage door opens and home owner emerges. No eye contact. No greeting. Odd...

4) Homeowner helps D put the item in the back of his truck and grunts as he turns to leave.

5) D said the niceties he alway does; being friendly regardless of how he's received. He then leaves and turns right at first stop sign, following Seri's orders. He notices a few small kids sitting on the ground as he continues his coming home plans.

6) A car pulls up behind him and follows him, then sharply moves up beside him and accelerates to maneuver in front of his truck as they swing their vehicle into a blocking position that cuts off the roadway. Their car is now sitting across the lane, instead of in a forward position, blocking him from forward movement.

7) One of the 3 people in the car, gets out, thinking D will stop, as if to engage him.

8) But...instead of stopping, D maneuvers into the passing lane and goes around them (good boy), giving them a little wave as he goes around them. He had no time to process their intentions and he ALWAYS gives everyone the benefit of the doubt. He trusts people way more than I do.

9) The guy jumps back in the car and the 3 tailgate D to the next stop sign, where D had to stop because of traffic in the intersection.

10) At this point they all 3 jump out of their car (2 guys and 1 girl) and come up to his drivers window with accusations of him taking pictures of their kids (at the first stop sign). They wanted to know what he planned on doing with those pictures. He assured them he was not guilty of what they were claiming. His words: "I'm a Christian man and don't believe in doing that kind of thing."

11) They demanded he give them his phone. He refused. I'm shaking just remembering his telling of this story when he got home. Thank God, he did come home...and in one piece.

12) When he refused to give them his phone, one of the young men (he thought they all looked to be in their 20's), said, "It's a good thing I don't have a gun." This just got real and very clear as to what their intent was.

This is where the girl got involved and spoke for the first time, letting Dennis know they watch over their neighborhood and don't like strangers coming in, to which Dennis responded, "It's good that you do. Someone needs to." 

I do think his demeanor actually disarmed them. Brought peace to a situation where there was none, with every possibility of escalation. She told him to never come back to this neighborhood, and he responded with, "Don't worry. I never will." And they retreated to their car, releasing him from the threat of harm.

Terror on the streets, in the neighborhoods...of America.

He tells me his thoughts as he slowly pulls out into traffic. He had kept his "cool" with them, all the while his insides were churning. His emotions ran the gamut after he got away, causing him to pull over to the side of the road to regroup trying to figure out where he even was. 

It was a long night. And it still invades both our thoughts. I have always been an observant individual, almost to the point of paranoia. All the more so now. I will never allow myself to be in a compromising position if at all possible. But D? Even though he is still dealing with the memory of that event, he seems to be his old self. Mostly. I did notice, however, when I came back from running errands yesterday, the door to our house was locked...with him inside. That is definitely a first!

As I'm working on this post, he popped in to tell me that he still has to pray when all the different thoughts come to him about that interaction. He is still shaken as he thinks of all the wrongs that could have happened. Thank God no gun was involved. Not because guns kill people, but because people kill people. Guns may make it easier, but had they really wanted to hurt him, they would have. 

Thank God he had the character to disarm them with kind sincerity, even while his insides were on high alert. Thank God he didn't respond with anger about the accusations. Thank God he didn't challenge them. Thank God he stayed put and never got out of the truck to address this. Thank God he got home safe. 

I pray that some small word D spoke, pierced their souls. That because of my husband's kindness to everyone he meets, even when directly accused, struck a cord within them, and they, too, had a reckoning with God that night. 

"Do not be overcome by evil (don't allow emotions to rule you, so that you respond poorly), but overcome evil with good." ~Romans 12:21

 So very grateful to have my husband still with me, here you will find me...in Mary's World.

My View from Here

I know. I know! We just started Fall, why am I jumping into Winter this early?! Well...I recently ran across a writing that beckoned me because of the "season" of life I find myself to be in. It had no author that I could find, but it isn't mine. I add my 2 cents worth at the end. Of course I do... 

They call it the winter of life...the years when hair turns silver, bones ache a little more, and the world feels quieter. For many, it sounds like an ending. But those who are living it know the truth: winter has its own beauty.

In youth, life is spring...full of beginnings. In adulthood, summer...busy, warm, overflowing with noise and responsibilities. Autumn arrives with reflection, slowing down, watching children grown and dreams settle into place.

And then comes winter. 

At first, it feels cold. Empty nest. Quiet house. Loved ones gone. The snow seems heavy.

But look closer. Winter is also when the world glitters brightest under the morning sun. It's the season of warm fires, of hands wrapped around tea cups, of conversations that finally have time to breathe. Winter is when you realize that happiness isn't rushing anymore...it's in remembering, in cherishing, in stillness.

One grandmother put it best: 

"I used to think getting older was losing pieces of myself. Now I see it's gaining a clearer view. I don't need everything I once thought I did. I just need love, peace, and the people who choose to stay."

The winter of life teaches us this: every wrinkle is a story, every scar a survival, every laugh line a proof that joy was real.

So, if you're blessed enough to reach this season...wear it proudly. Wrap yourself in gratitude. Share your wisdom with the young. And remind the world that winter isn't the end.

It's the soft glow before the dawn.

Final Thought: Don't fear winter. Embrace it. Because the quietest season can hold the loudest love. ❤️

My View from Here...

I do love this time of my life. The last season of life...the next chapter, as I know it. A birthing is about to take place. A new life is about to begin. In more ways than one.

I would say, for me, at least, the transition from the world of business to the world of retirement has been a journey in and of itself. It took me a bit, but I think I have finally arrived. With only 4 months in my rear view mirror, I have become accustom to this way of living. It feels good most days.

I couldn't tell you any differences I felt when I entered the "winter" of my life because I was still working my small business until the ripe old age of 78 years. Energy was abundant because of what my hands were finding to do, I loved. During the sometimes long hours of any given day, I rarely became hungry. Nor did I tire. Not until my tush found its groove in the drivers seat of my car at the end of the day, did my body even realize it needed nourishment and rest. Those were good, fulfilled days. Mostly...

But now? Now I find myself realizing I really AM in the winter of life. It stares me in the face every day. I no longer feel the need for beautifying my looks since I have no clear agenda other than putting one foot in front of the other and making stabs at reorganizing my life as I become more knowledgeable with how creation works. My hands are in dirt (a lot), as I now am helping the plant world (instead of the human world) be beautiful. Still full of challenges, just no feed-back, other than what the outcome tells me. It's pretty much a silent world. It's as if I have stepped into someone else's life. 

From the age of 7 years, I have worked. Rising at 4 AM and not laying down until the days work could be called done. During the "responsible for others" era, that time was quite late. So, now...well, it's just weird. But fulfilling...most days. I've still a lot to learn.

I do love this time of life, though. It's so much easier to see the absolute miracles of life. And, it's not that I've lived without feeling the nearness of God and the daily miracles of life, because I have. All one has to do, really, is be quiet for a bit and listen. All one need do is look at creation. There are so many miracles floating right in front of our natural eyes, and once we breathe and take in the goodness of God, we can feel His unconditional love for us. Inside our being. And it feels good...

Embracing the quietest season of life, seeing love differently...here you will find me, in Mary's World.

Problem Solvers

Those who know me, know I can be a bit "high-strung"; easily triggered at times of frustration. Especially when it comes to those who should know what they are selling, before they are allowed to present themselves as professionals.

There are two businesses that I have, in the past, refused to deal with. They both live or die under my husbands control. Insurances and AT&T. However, it seems as if I am getting thrown into the arena of dealing with both, of late. Where's my coffee?

The most recent, was with AT&T. When it comes to our wireless connections, I would rather go to the local brick and mortar store and not deal with using the device to work out a solution to the problem. Why? Because you never know what language you will have to decipher, making it very difficult to understand what is being said...asking for a repeat way too often. One can expect to be weeding through the dialog, as best they can, for at least an hour and a half, ending the conversation with no solution at all. Granted, it's mostly my fault because my patience beings to run on empty by the time I've said, "I'm really sorry, but I have no idea what you just said. Would you mind repeating that?" for the fifth time.

This time around, I was grumbling more than I should have because my online presence was completely messed up; wiped out mostly, with having no access for online bill pay. I couldn't see the actual bill, nor could I see the recent changes that had been made to our wireless account. Our connected plans had disappeared all together.  

But this story is not about that (mainly); but about professionals in the workplace. It seems to be such a rare thing these days, that employees take the time to look at you, or even act as if they really care you are there. Yesterday was different. The first thing upon entering the building, we were both met with a smile, eye contact, and "welcome to AT&T". Even though that first contact was with another couple, working through whatever they were there for, he acknowledged our presence, letting us know they knew we were there. This is exactly what is needed in any business doing business.

In less than a heartbeat, another employee was on her feet, coming our way. Excellent! First step to getting my blood pressure under control...and causing me to think we could possibly get this fixed, once and for all. I would be able to navigate our online presence, again. I had brought my laptop with me, so I could show them exactly what was happening. I seriously don't like using small devises (iPhones), to do business on. And, I figured if they could see what I saw, the problem would be solved much easier than me trying to explain the issue. I had already tried that. Twice. By addressing it on my phone. All that created was more anxiety, which ended with me hanging up on the last poor guy, after the third time answering the same question. I knew a visit to the brick and mortar store was in my future. 

Sooooo...I guess this is a shout out to our local AT&T store on Walnut Street in Cary, NC. Thanks to Christalyn (second contact) and her Assistant Manager (third contact...wish I could remember his name...such a great guy), we were able to walk out with our problem resolved, having been dealt with by kind professionalism. I had no doubt the Assistant Manager knew the answer to our dilemma, because of the confidence he extended by looking at me while I spoke. There was no looking away, no head down, no fiddling with other things while he listened. Just clear eye contact. There was an immediate disarming when met with this very obvious solution-knowledge individual. He was there for one purpose. To fix that which was broken. And the only way one can get there is to first listen to the why, and then proceed with attentiveness. You can always tell when someone is listening to what you are saying, and when they clearly, are not. Yesterday, we hit the jackpot of professionalism. And now my life has meaning...*wink *wink

Loving true and honest connections, here you will find me...in Mary's World.

Ambiance That Quietly Speaks Volumes

 

First, we feast with our eyes. Then with our nose. Those two senses alone, tell us if we should relax or tense up. Anytime I step into a business, the first thing that tells me if I want to stay there, is the ambiance the owner, or manager, has created for their guests. The next thing that alerts me is the smell of the place.

Being in business for decades, I have had more than a few clients make comments about how my house must look. The creative strain started many years ago while going through some rough patches. Possibly it was there inside me all along, just waiting to express itself. But once I allowed myself to release it, the desire didn't take long to grow to where I found the need to temper it down, at times. It was my get-away from the norm.

My husband and I have always lived the simple life, catering only to life sustaining needs. In our early years of marriage, we didn't have money to use for the non-essentials. Creativity was all I had to work with, always looking for things to decorate my home with, usually finding them at garage sales or gathering from things others were just throwing away. It didn't take long to have more than enough to fill any nook or cranny I might find.

While packing for the move to NC, much of my treasures got thrown out because of time constraints. I couldn't be in two places at once, so accepted help in sorting and loading for the big move. Couldn't have done it without the generosity shown us. However, without my eye on every little item I had collected over the 39 years of living in Oklahoma, much got lost in the mix of "what to do with this". 

Once in our new home, I went through a range of emotions when I found out that many things I loved were no longer in my possession. But...me being me, it didn't take long to replenish with up-dated, more beautiful, STUFF! Much to my husbands dismay. In our existing shed; his work shed, there are shelves overhead on either side as you walk in. On the right, is my recently closed Elements Salon totes, full of seasonal decorations. All labeled with "Salon Spring/Easter" "Salon Summer" "Salon Fall" & "Salon Christmas". On the left, are totes labeled, "Home Spring/Easter" "Home Summer" "Home Fall" & "Home Christmas". They ALL need to be downsized, once again...

This new season of my life...this new chapter labeled "Retirement" has thrown me a serious curve that I didn't see coming. The drive I once had to decorate every space (inside & out), is beginning to diminish. It feels as if there isn't any real need to go to all the trouble of putting up and taking down just for the two of us. Our girls and grand-girls visit a few times throughout the month, but both daughters have families that are priority and time constraints don't allow for being able to just walk next door to see each other. First of all, they don't live next door, and secondly, life can be super busy when you have a 9-5 and family to tend to. I'm happy they tend well to the necessities of their lives, but it sure does leave a house feeling empty, even though it isn't. 

Now that even the salon is in my rear view mirror; where traffic and praise was plenty and where my ego was stroked a bit, I find myself questioning the importance of it all. And quite frankly, it scares me.

However...my husband and I still enjoy the ambiance, and joy, decorating for each season brings to our lives. So, I will most likely continue to dot our surroundings with items that beckon the senses to enjoy the comings and goings of the seasons as they dance their way through our lives.

After all is said and done, I must admit, the mood set in any shell of a home, speaks volumes as to the mental status of the homes occupants. Creativity is placed inside us all from the time we are being formed and nurtured, inside our mother's womb. It's a God thing. We ALL are created to create. In one way or another. And to worship the only true creative God, in whose image we are made. The master of all things we see. One might say, "But Mary! God didn't create the computer you are typing on. Man did that." To which I would respond, "There is a miraculous network of neurons and matter, created by a loving God, called 'the brain', so that any human desiring to create, can." 

This creative vein I have is so simple, but shows its own worth through the desire it manifests. May it never cease. May I never allow the lack of having crowds who stop to peer into my business studio to take it all in, keep me from creating. I don't know. Maybe God enjoys watching me live out this new chapter. Seeing what I will do with it. Watching, inspiring me, as I navigate this 180.

Slow and steady is my pace these days, but...as always, here you will find me...in Mary's World

What's the Best That Could Happen?

"You always think of the worst thing that could happen, Mom," said my daughter, after yet another caution was uttered by her mother. Always the worrier...

I don't remember just how long ago that sentence was spoken, but it pops up in my head every now and again. When the situation warrants it, I suppose. But she was right. I do. It's the "cover all the basis" in me. It's the need to be safe...to be in control, to be able to confront all the bad that could happen, before it happens. It helps me be prepared. You know...just in case.

I've walked a few miles in my lifetime, and have seen what unpreparedness puts in our hands. I've made a few missteps, a few clearly wrong decisions, to not wish it on anybody. But, once I got my head on straight, I began to see the beauty waiting for me to embrace it. Waiting for me to accept that just possibly there was a best case scenario waiting to place hope in my heart, and that life didn't have to revolve around the fear of all the what-ifs.

When I allowed my shoulders to relax and my lungs to breathe deep, life changed. The seeds of hope actually started somewhere around 1973-74. But I'm guessing it was because of the first 26 years of my life being lived much differently, those weeds of doubt and fear took a bit of time to completely be dug up and destroyed. And still, to this very day, I have to be cautious of allowing the winds of change to blow in a whole new harvest of those weeds.

Being a business owner for 50+ years also taught me a thing or two. One can't, one shouldn't, plan a success story without first evaluating the pit-falls of a start-up plan. One must have enough forward thinking to be prepared for the "what-ifs" while holding onto that vision placed inside your heart for the best-case scenario. 

Over the years, I have heard so much negativity about speaking something into existence. Coming from a charismatic background, "normal" people would make fun of us for believing something could actually come from that mindset. What they didn't understand was the why behind the phrase, and definitely not the how. I never believed we could just say, "Let there be...." like God spoke light into the darkness, and it would be so. Instantly, at least. But, what I DID believe was that I could quote Scripture, the written Word, back to myself and it become so embedded in my spirit that it actually gave birth to belief. And many times that belief led me to speaking something into existence. Stay with me here...

Think about the times you've been successful during your lifetime. Did you ponder whatever it was that caused your heart to beat a little stronger? Did you do research of how you might get from here to there? Did you begin to see the hope of actually getting where you wanted to be? Did you begin to see it more clearly as time wore on? Of course you did! And I would bet that during this time you talked to yourself. You searched for proof you could do whatever it was. You encouraged yourself. You fought back the fear of doubt and defeat, as your heart reached for what seemed impossible. Am I right? If so, then I would say you spoke something into existence.

I read somewhere that if you think you can't, you can't. But, if you think you CAN, you CAN! Over the years my vision became one that believed anything was possible. Anything was reachable if we just believed it was. There would be work to be done, of course. First, we have to convince our minds that it is indeed possible. Then we can begin the process of bringing it to fruition. Nothing is free, but everything is rewarding if done with a pure heart. There must be challenges to see victories.

It is by the work of our hands and the steadfastness of our minds, that we can experience best case scenarios. I would go so far as to say that it is by the renewing of our doubting minds that we attain greatness. That our vision changes enough to be able to see the "what-ifs" as only flies surrounding stagnant thinking. Yes, we must face those what-ifs so that we may be at least somewhat prepared when flies begin to swarm. And they will. We must have an alternate route, a plan for dumping the stagnant and beginning anew with fresh vision for those times we make wrong choices. Challenges will always present themselves. Such is life. It's always the darkest before the dawn. 

Having always been a risk taker, I've built. I've risked. I've won. I've lost. I've learned plenty. Looking back I can see that it was the times of believing I could do anything I put my mind to, success came. Just as we "eat with our eyes before we eat with our mouths", so it is with whatever our spirit prompts us to do. We first see it within our mind, begin to speak it with our mouth, then put our hands to the task. 

What's the best that could happen? Keep those weeds of doubt to a minimum! If they become over-grown, we have a problem.

Speaking hope...speaking life into my journey, here you will find me...in Mary's World. #myjourneyamongtheunseen #lifeissues #ICanDoAllThings #thebestoflife #fightingfear 

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 simple identifiers that will 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. 😉