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Archive for January, 2012

I get to work in a high school … yes, I said “get to”! I also get to work in a few of the classes that my daughter takes.

I have a motherly fondness for many of her friends. Many have been at our home, driven in our vehicles to various events, slept over, made cookies in our kitchen, been cheered on at basketball games by me, and attended countless birthday parties.

I struggle at school with the boys and the girls, and their brand new hormones. I find I watch and listen, and just want to … gag!

I do realize that they are just ‘test driving’ their new thoughts, feelings and awareness. I realize that what they are going through is so very normal and necessary in that age old process known as ‘growing up’. I just wish our society, our culture, did not encourage this process to become so all absorbing all at once.

The girls looking at the boys, and even the boys drooling over the girls can be cute or, as they might say, ‘adorbs’. It is a process of an awakening within them that is starting to burst out into their daily lives. Truly, it is a wonderfilled time in their lives. But, as they grow and mature, their hormones are NOT the best, or the only thing in their lives.

This is also a very important time in their lives for learning, in an academic sense. As important, if not more so at this phase of their lives, is the development and nurture of friendships. This is a great time of life for shooting hoops, all night chat sessions, playing games, dancing to music, and other activities that are surrounded by the peers who a teen calls friends.

My hubby is brilliant (yes, I said that in writing), and that was confirmed for me when he worked as a youth pastor. When a pair of teens in the youth group would start dating he would take them out to lunch, and his conversation with the couple would start with the same question every time, “you WILL break up, and when you do, how will it affect your relationships at youth?” And he was right, because about 98-99% of teen couples do not end up in a lifelong relationship. Should teens invest the majority of their teen years in relationships that are, at best, temporary?

Hubby was really brilliant a number of years ago, as well, when he told our preschool daughter that if she chose to not date in high school, he would buy her a car. This was her choice, not ours! We told her that our hope for her was that she spend her teen years focusing on friends and school, and we were willing to put wheels where our mouth was. But, we left the choice in her hands.

This fall when our eldest daughter got her car, her sister and brother realized that the deal (that we had offered them, as well) was good. All of a sudden, the story they had heard all of their lives, was in view with a happy ending.

And it is a happy ending, beyond the car, because if they take our challenge, they can look back on their high school years as ones of friendship and learning, and those are things that they can take, 100%, into adulthood with them.

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This is another post in a series, about a woman named Amara. Every Friday I will post another segment in this story.

“Are you sure she is able to come here on her own? You could meet with the doctor alone today, and bring your mother here for a second appointment?” Dr. Faw’s receptionist said with sincere concern, but laced with the urgency of a vulture. My mother’s delay was impeding the efficiency of this woman’s day. And was that sarcasm I heard when she specifically said “coming here on her own?” Was she insinuating that I should have brought her myself? Well, if only she knew the efforts I had made to try to convince my stubborn, highly independent mother that she should let me pick her up!

“No, I will wait just a couple more moments for her,” I replied to ‘vulture lady’ while smiling my sugary sweetest. She faked an accepting nod and smile to me.

Oh, what was keeping mother? Did she remember? Did she forget where she was to go? Did she misplace her car keys again? Did she go wandering on the trails again, and forget her way home? How can so many possible reasons for mother’s delay go through my head so quickly?

Today was just bound to not go as planned. Joe forgot to set the alarm, and the entire household started the day on the wrong foot by starting late. The kids were late to school, which seemed to be disastrous for both of them. Jilly was irate that we forgot to set our alarm, causing her to have less preparation time to beautify her sixteen year old self. And even five year old Jessica was upset that she did not have time to brush all of her teeth ten times, and refused to say goodbye to me when I dropped her off at school.

On my part, I was frustrated with Joe too. He knew how important today and this appointment were to me. He knew how stressed and uncertain I was feeling about what was going on with my mother and what might be the reason for the strange behaviors my mother had been exhibiting. He knew this was important, and he forgot to set the alarm.

Sigh.

That seems to be happening often … sighing. It is as though there is so much air in my lungs, from holding my breath, that it constantly needs to be forcefully emptied with a full, loud expression of sighing. It seems that I sigh so that my body feels it, and my ears hear it to remind my body that I am still alive. I wonder if I ran away to a tropical island would I still be sighing?

I reached into my purse to check the time on my cell phone, but where is it? Oh no, I left it in the car! Maybe mother had called me with an explanation of why she was not here. Maybe her car wouldn’t start, or she fell, or her alarm didn’t get set (no, that would not have delayed her. My mother has been awakening earlier all the time for the past few years. She even phoned me last week at three in the morning to tell me about her neighbor’s falling the night before. She had awakened, gotten dressed, and had breakfast without noticing the time on any of the clocks in her house. No, an alarm clock was definitely not the reason she was not here).

I stood and approached the Vulture lady, “I just realized my cell phone is in my car, I will go get it to see if mother has phoned me.”

“Alright then,” Vulture lady said sharply, “but I can only hold your appointment time for another fifteen minutes.”

I sighed, “very well then.”

Unfading – Part 1

Unfading – Part 3

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Cross my heart, hope to die, stick a needle in my eye …

Liar, liar pants on fire …

Little ditties from how legal contracts were written in our childhoods, reminds us how very important promises were to us in childhood. I wonder if we made contracts now (as adults) as we did as children, would we fulfill our promises better than we do now?

There are so many promises for us to keep to so many : our spouses, out kids, our workplace, our banks, our loan companies, our parents, our friends, and even our resolutions (it’s the middle of January, so those promises may have been broken already). It would be unreasonable to think that we can keep all of our promises, all of the time. After all, life throws us curve balls, and good intentions get hindered by important happenings.

It can be disappointing and even hurtful when people break promises to us. When that product we order online fails to live up to what it promised. When that restaurant fails to live up to the coupon you have, because the ownership has changed. When your child fails to clean their room, as they had promised, before heading out to play. When your spouse promises to love and cherish you before your family and friends, and then trades you in for a new model.

In the broken world we live in, promises get broken.

The heartache, disillusionment, and disappointment that these broken promises cause can make our lives heavy, sad and lifeless. We are looking for, hoping for, heaven on earth. But there is only one heaven, and it is only in looking heavenward that we can know what it is to live with promises that are kept.

The other day I heard this song, and felt like it was God’s message to ME! Then I heard it the next day on the way TO work, on the way TO basketball, and then on the way TO home … tell me that message was not for me!

God keeps His promises, always. He is no fair weather friend. He is no deceiver. He is no liar. He keeps all of the promises that He makes … all the time … stick a needle in my eye.

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It was at basketball the other day that I was reminded of an important lesson.

Well, actually it was that same day, but in the morning. Hubby had said something and I suggested that he follow the advice of Saint Francis of Assisi (“Preach the gospel at all times. If necessary, use words.“).

But, it was while at basketball that I remembered to practice what I was preaching to hubby.

As the game went on, I was joined by a friend of my daughter. A sweet girl, who I love having as an important relationship in the life of my daughter. I have tried numerous times to engage her in conversation when she is at our home, or in our vehicle, or at school, but have never felt successful.

This particular day, I tried a new tactic, I LISTENED.

The more I said less, the more she spoke. Now it was not that she was talking because there was an awkward silence between us, because we were engaged in the (riveting) game. She was talking because (gulp) I was not. Not only was I NOT talking, but I was also actively listening to her.

I talk … ALOT, but do I listen? Do I take time to hear what others are saying?

Then I looked across the court, at my own daughter, and wondered if I listen to her. I wonder how much I could learn if I stop talking, and start listening. I wonder how much more I could teach her if I shut up long enough to allow her to ask the questions, before I fill her ears with my responses.

1 Peter 3:15 says, “always be prepared to give an answer to everyone who asks you to give the reason for the hope that you have.” There is no way that we are prepared if we do not listen for the question.

It sounds like St. Francis and Peter might have been listening to the same voice. I hope that this reminds me to listen too, so that I might have opportunity to share the hope we have.

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I love words!

There is nothing that makes my heart skip a beat like hearing or reading or singing words that seem to grab my ears and yell “we are for your ears, listen!” If I was listening (who doesn’t hear what is yelled?) I would then spend the next minutes, hours and even days pondering them. Turning them inside out, to see if I am really getting all that they say, because I know they are for me and I don’t want to miss one syllable of their message.

I love it even more when those same loudly proclaimed words take me away to a different place in my mind, to a different place in my soul. Sometimes those words will even force me to make time for them.

This happened one day last year (don’t you love it when only a couple of weeks ago can be referred to as ‘last year’?). As I was singing along in church one Sunday we sang a song, and one line, “forgiven so that I could forgive” yelled at me, and it (and the rest of the song) been yelling almost daily since.

It is a song performed (and written) by the group Delirious. The lyrics could mirror the words of David in his Psalms. They recognize the ranking of the one who has sacrificed as higher than any other (to refer to one as his/her majesty is the highest position possible) on the earth. The lyrics speak of thanks, of grace, of love. It is a song of recognizing the redemption made available, and of receiving it in the humility of one who is redeemed.

For us to understand that we are forgiven is, I believe, a concept not easily or quickly learned. Maybe it is because we struggle to forgive others, and in our own struggle to forgive we do not comprehend the forgiveness that is offered to us? Maybe we can forgive others, but we do not forget the original offense? Maybe we have the order of learning forgiveness wrong?

Perhaps it is in being forgiven that we learn how to forgive. Perhaps we cannot fully forgive another, until we have received (and that offer is always there for us) the forgiveness that is foundational to understanding how to forgive others. And maybe, it is a lesson that we keep learning all of our days.

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Impressions come in many forms. There are the impressions we make on others, either by how we look, or act, or how we make them feel. There are also impressions, like the ones that imprint a physical lasting mark, like a tattoo or a scar.

I have an impression, a scar, on my left ring finger. It is an indelible impression, one that will never go away, one that is permanent.

Over a year ago I noticed a frustratingly itchy rash on my ring finger, the ring finger where I wore my wedding ring. I figured the best was to alleviate the non-stop irritation was to remove my wedding ring.

Sure enough, it worked! Not over night, but eventually (and with the use of a good healing cream), the rash and it’s nasty irritation were gone.

But, I have yet to return to wearing my wedding band. I had gotten out of the habit of wearing it, and that is really saying something, because, other than the few times I was in a hospital, I had never removed my wedding ring (night or day) since my husband placed it on my finger, over twenty-two years ago.

Now, over a year after removing it, there is an impression of that ring still visible on my finger.

It has faded a bit, but only slightly. I have been altered by the symbol of the vow I made all those years ago. It is a permanent scar, forever there to remind me of that vow I made with my words.

That is what the impression of a scar does, it reminds us. It can remind us of when we were a child and suffered a deep wound. A scar reminds us of the surgery that may have saved our life. A scar reminds us of pain.

But a scar, like the one on my ring finger, can also remind us of the hope of a new life with someone, of dreams fulfilled, and ones yet to happen. It can remind us of overcoming pain, of beating struggles, of memories made, and secrets shared and children shared, and a sense of oneness with another that can only be shared by two who bear the same scars.

One of these days I will pull that gold band back out (or maybe hubby will) and place it back on my finger. Until then, there is a permanent scar, an indelible impression that reminds me every day of the past, and the present, and the future to come.

“Children show scars like medals.

Lovers use them as secrets to reveal.

A scar is what happens when the word is made flesh.”

Leonard Cohen

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A new year is a new beginning. It is a fresh, clean canvas. It is unmarred by blemishes or errors. It is empty.

Really, this blank slate of a new year is void of one of the most valuable parts of life … memories.

If today, January fifth two thousand and twelve, I were to say, “what is your favorite memory of 2012?” you might say something about a New Years kiss (unless, that is, you fell asleep before the clock struck twelve), or a fantastic New Years day football game outcome (but you probably would NOT be too excited about the outcome of the World Junior Hockey Championship, if you are from North America).

Memories are the icing on the cake of life. It is our memories that help define our past, and help to focus where we wish our future to go. It is our negative memories that become our nightmares, and our positive memories that become our daydreams. Our memories keep places, experiences and people of the past alive.

It is in the next fifty-one weeks that we will live and make memories. Memories for ourselves, and memories for those we love and memories for those whose lives intersect our own. We will make good memories and bad, happy and sad, joyous and regrettable. Some will be spontaneous, and others will be intentionally planned.

This year is still fresh, still unwritten, still void of memories. Lets commit this year to being intentional about making memories that are good, for yourself and for others.

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A new year is like a new love relationship …

When a relationship is fresh and new there is so much excitement, so much possibility.

But, a new love relationship cannot be fully enjoyed if we continually look back to life before this love entered our life. If someone in a new relationship continually reminisces about previous love interests, the future does not look so attractive.

Similarly, a new year is fresh and there is great excitement and possibility. It is a clean slate, on which you can write your hopes, dreams and intentions (and resolutions).

But, as this new year gets going it will be tempting to talk about the events of the past. The amazing Valentine’s truffles that you enjoyed last year, or the tiptop physique you had a few years back (like a decade or two ago), or the year you read through the entire Bible (which, coincidentally, coincided with the college course you were taking on ‘reading the Bible in a year’), or how well behaved your children were when they were little (you cannot remember where you left your wallet this morning and you expect me to believe that you can remember how well behaved your children were forty years ago?).

So, lets focus on where we are going, and on what is ahead. It means we need to embrace the reality of life today, and this year, not living in the past.

Looking back happens, but to move forward we need to be facing forward, not glancing back!

“One thing I do:

Forgetting what is behind and straining toward what is ahead,

I press on toward the goal

to win the prize for which God has called me heavenward in Christ Jesus.”

Philippians 3:13-14

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The WordPress.com stats helper monkeys prepared a 2011 annual report for this blog.

I received this on New Years Day, and was awed.

I was awed that, since March, when I started posting, there have been over 16,000 views!

I was awed that my posts have been read all over the world!

I was awed that so many people who I know (and many who I do not) have read my words.

As you may already know, I am a nominee for the blogger with the worst grammar ever (and for Queen of the run on sentence). But it was a dream of mine to ‘get published’ and this has been my venue to accomplish that dream. To think that people have actually ready what I wrote is icing on the cake (I was convinced it would only my mother who would read my words … and she is a regular viewer … thanks mom).

It has been wonderful for me to have something that is mine (narcissism creeping out of my pores). This is something I do for myself (and hubby is thrilled that I have chosen writing and not shopping … much better on the finances 😉 ), and I feel that by doing it, I can do all the other things in my life better (I would equate it to the airline instruction to “put your own oxygen mask on before helping others with theirs”).

As I have sat at my computer each day writing away, I have felt as though I was having a therapy session. I have dealt with frustrations and shared my heart in a way that could not have been done better with a counselor, bar tender or hairdresser (sadly though I do not have great hair to show for it).

I just wanted to take the time, right now, to say thanks for visiting my blog. Make sure you click on the “complete report” if you would like to see who you have been reading with.

Blessings,

Carole

Here’s an excerpt:

The concert hall at the Syndey Opera House holds 2,700 people. This blog was viewed about 16,000 times in 2011. If it were a concert at Sydney Opera House, it would take about 6 sold-out performances for that many people to see it.

Click here to see the complete report.

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Since it is still the first week of January, I figure it is not too late to talk New Years resolutions.

To be honest I am not a big resolutions maker, but I felt motivated yesterday to make a couple. So, one resolution turned into another and so on (and so on, and so on … remember those VO5 shampoo commercials of the 80’s?), and now I have a list:

iResolve …

-to not use my phone while driving (don’t you get all pious on me … you know you do it too. Your phone rings and you put it on speaker, or you hear that delightful sound of a text coming in, and you pick it up … just ‘in case’ it’s important …). Lets face it, it is dangerous, and stupid! No call or text or Twitter update is that important (how much do you want to bet this will be the ONE post my kids actually read? And they badger me to keep it! That could be a good thing).

-to not turn my phone on (except at lunch break) at work (not that I have ever used it at work … now I’ll have my co-workers badgering me to keep this one … and that could be a good thing too).

-to use myfitnesspal app … every day (sigh, the end to this merry season of gluttony).

-to not look at my weathernetwork app for the sole purpose of ‘guessing’ when there might be the right conditions for a ‘storm day’ at school (no, Mom, I will never grow up).

-to not try to convince my daughters that the P.D. app is fun (the horror on their innocent faces when I tell them that I find my period diary fun must come to an end).

-to finish programing my Find iPhone app on my phone … I downloaded the app over a year ago, and I still could not utilize it’s benefits if I were to misplace my phone (and by now you know just how vital it is to me).

-to stop using my iPhone apps while watching a movie with my kids or hubby … I sense withdrawal symptoms.

-to more frequently (like twice instead of once a year) load my iPhone photos to my computer, and off of my phone (I fear a cataclysmic event happening and losing a year of memories … this must end).

Well that is enough for one year! I am feeling a little drained, so I think I will go to my phone and pre-order my favorite beverage on my Starbucks app, so that it will be waiting for me when I get there.

Cheers!

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