10 seconds

In less than 10 seconds…

You can destroy a child’s self-esteem with a look or comment.

You can ruin someone’s day by ignoring them.

You can ruin your own day by walking past happiness and choosing to wallow in self pity.

OR in less than 10 seconds…

You can pause and pick up something someone dropped and hand it to them with a smile.

You can put a hand on the shoulder of one who is suffering, and say “hang in there.”

You can look in the mirror and say, “not perfect…but not bad.”

You can stop to say something nice to someone at work.

You can accept your coffee or burger or salad from a server and say a sincere thank you.

You can pause at a light turning green to allow someone to finish crossing.

You can stop and tell someone they are loved.

You can mutter a quick prayer to get you through a situation or thank God for something not being worse.

You can start your day with “God…this one’s for you” and take it from there.

In less than 10 seconds you can do terrible or wonderful things.

What are you doing with your next 10 seconds?

Look UP!!!

Remember in school when the teacher would ask a question and look around for somebody willing to answer?
We would all drop our eyes, suddenly paging through a text, writing notes or looking for something...anything, as long as we didn't make eye contact with the teacher.
So I wonder why we bow our heads in prayer. I understand respect and awe, but sometimes we are praying for something where we are asking God to send help.
We shouldn't be dropping our eyes for this, hoping He looks past us. We should focus on the cross, or look up, challenging ourselves to make eye contact and let God know He can call on us.
Maybe He won't, but I want Him to know that I am not afraid. That I trust Him. He will choose the right person for the job.
Maybe not me. But I remain ready for the time it is.

I cry

I cry.

I cry when I am sad. When my world is filled with unfinished friendships; when I am forced to acknowledge premature departures; when all my energy is spent watching suffering and helplessness; when I have to face my weakness and inadequacies, closed doors and deflating situations, I cry. I don’t like to cry.

I cry when I am angry. When the space around me is filled with betrayal and belittling; when my area is full of sniping and arguing; when I am in a corner and not allowed to get out of it because my captor is stronger or louder or meaner; when there is so much negative emotion and no outlet for it, I cry. I don’t like to cry.

I cry when I am happy. When my life is filled with sunshine, love and warm feelings; when I see great kindness for myself or others; when I can’t express my total joy and must do something to avoid bursting at the seams; when my surroundings are pleasing, my situation undeniably positive and my wholeness a blessing to others and myself as well, I cry. I love to cry!

The Centipede

Many years ago, I was home alone and went into my basement to do a silly chore. On my return to the stairs, I saw a centipede. It sat there – hovering on the wall over the 4^th step…waiting. Anyone who knows centipedes, knows they are predators. They lay in wait and will ATTACK once you pass.

I was trapped.

I went through my basement looking for something to defend myself from that multi-legged creature. All I could find was a jar of Spray Shellac that I had been using to seal a plaster statue.
I approached the steps, one hand firmly on the spray nozzle, hoping the horrible thing had left the step and burrowed into a location I could not see.

He was still there. I sprang into action, focusing the sticky spray on the monster and pushing the spray button down in one fell swoop. He took off! He got to the spot where the wall met the step, then turned to race across the stair plank. I was relentless, holding the button, spraying as hard as I could. And he moved slower, and s l o w e r, and finally so s  l  o  w  that I could hold the can over him and cover him with the sticky, fast drying, shellac.

There he was – attached to my step in a clear, crystal casing. I was saved.

But now what? I looked in the basement for inspiration and found a piece of wood, approximately 3x6 inches and 1 inch thick. I placed the wood on the shining shell of shellac and went upstairs, hopping over the step where the wood covered, varnished centipede was entombed.

When my family returned from wherever they were that day, I was calmly sitting in the family room, watching tv… “oh honey? I killed a centipede while you were gone. See that wood on the step? Could you clean it up, please?”

They thought I had crushed it under the wood. What?! Do people really do that?

Better question: Do they not know me at all?   That would have been so ordinary.
And yes, they did clean it up.

Until next time, centipede community...until next time.
 

God is only a prayer away... I DISAGREE!

God is only a prayer away.

I read those words on a sign in front of a church… and I disagree.

God is not “only” a prayer away. He is much closer than that.

He is there when you blink away tears and in a welcoming smile.
He is in the first cry of a newborn and the last drawn breath of a loved one.
He is in the sun that suddenly bursts into your room to waken you, and the soft breeze you hear as you drift to sleep.
He is in the softly falling snow that melts on your tongue and the driving rain that makes you watch in awe.
He is in your confidence when you go forth to do something new and in your fear as you look for a way to make it through the routine.  
He is in the joy of good health and the sorrow of illness.
He is in each sigh of satisfaction, each snort of disgust… each nod in agreement or headshake of contradiction.
He is in our days afternoons and evenings – He is in our months, years and lifetimes.

God is not a prayer away – we just use prayer as a means of communication. He is with us in everything, through everything and because of everything.
There is no place, time or situation where God is not there.

God may be only a prayer away from our point of view. He is much closer from His.

What is your catchphrase?

Ever play the fortune cookie game? You read your fortune and add the words “…in bed” after it.

So “you will be successful in business” becomes “you will be successful in business in bed.”

Today is your lucky day…in bed.  Funny right?

I started thinking that maybe I need a catch phrase to get through my normal life.  So I have come up with something that will be as natural as the fortune cookie game.  Here goes…

My husband is sick… but I am blessed.

The bills are piling up… but I am blessed.

My friends were mean to me… but I am blessed.

I can’t bear the pain… but I am blessed.

I am so tired… but I am blessed.

I am lonely… but I am blessed.

There isn’t enough time… but I am blessed.

My job is just too much… but I am blessed.

There are a million complaints, concerns and thoughts… but I am blessed should be the last thing I remember when I think of them.

The more I think it, the more I believe it. The more I believe it, the lighter my burden. The lighter my burden, the more strength I have to remember… I am blessed.

done with prayer?

I used to marvel at how old people could go to church for hours and hours and just sit and pray.

I was young. I didn’t need to spend my waking hours in prayer. That was for before going to bed or eating meals Maybe praying was for a few minutes after rising. I would pray during a church service or when a big exam was looming, but other than that, prayer wasn’t really all that important.

Then I became old and I figured it out. Old people don’t just pray, they talk to God. And yes, there is a definite difference.

I found out that talking to God means you can tell Him all your old stories, and even though He not only heard them before, He was also present when they happened. But He never says, “you told Me that yesterday” or a sarcastic, “I know…” Old people tell God their stories and He smiles and cries and listens to them again and again, without a disparaging word.

When you talk to God about something that is bothering you, He doesn’t shame you or act dismissive. He knows that you may just need to talk it through without judgement or condemnation. You talk…He listens in silence. You can move forward because in God’s silence, you found your solution.

When you talk to God about something that happened that day, He never criticizes what you did. If you had a great meal at lunch, God doesn’t ask how much sodium was in it or how many carbs. He just enjoys listening to you tell Him how great it was. If you saw something interesting, He doesn’t say “yeah, I’ve seen that before” (which you know He has), He listens from your point of view and sees it again with you.

When you talk to God about things you wish you could do, He doesn’t tell you that you will break a hip, or remind you that you are no longer young. He tells you that He will be with you at any age; no matter what happens. And He is.

When you tell God your dreams, He doesn’t laugh at you or tell you that your day is past for dreaming.  In fact, He reminds you that Zacchaeus, a despicable tax collector, climbed a tree as an adult just to see Jesus. God didn’t throw Zacchaeus aside for his age or employment, but rewarded him for dreaming BIG and acting on it. God knew that Moses, even when elderly, still marched before his people and led them… held his arms up while Israel battled, and when he became weak his friends held them up for him. God didn’t laugh at Moses for his weakness, but loved him for his faith in his dream of freedom and peace for his people.

Yes, I am one of the old ones and I get it now.

I have decided to not be discouraged by the response and judgements of others. I will save my best conversations for God. He sees me as a child with untapped resources and the ability to move forward with Him. I will give Him my thoughts and ideas and trivial bits of news, and He will give me His undivided attention, unconditional love and unending time and patience.

No more prayer for me… I need to start talking!