Lights, Camera, Action...through the years

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Shine On

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

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

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

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

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

Shine on...

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

The Clock is Ticking...

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Preparing the Garden

New beginnings

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

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

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

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

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

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

 

The Next Big Thing...

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Transition Time...Resistance is Futile

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Dad and His Sanctuary

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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