Life Lessons After the Wedding

Don’t you love weddings?  Today’s nuptial event united two dear friends who have found love and each other in the “September” of their lives  The celebration was a beautiful expression of some of the greatest of life’s treasures–family, friends, music, and love–especially God’s love.

Post-wedding, when pondering life’s good things was the mode, I opened my inbox to discover the following from my friend Marcia, who keeps me uplifted and challenged with her regular inspirational emails.  The secret of the original writer’s longevity can surely be found in what she has written.

I should read this list at least once a week!  (So should you!)

Question of the Day, after you read the list:  What’s your favorite of Regina’s life lessons?  How does it speak to you this very day, in this very circumstance, in this very season of your wonderful life?

(Written by Regina Brett, 90 years old, of the Plain Dealer, Cleveland, Ohio)

To celebrate growing older, I once wrote the 45 lessons life taught me. It is the most-requested column I’ve ever written..

My personal odometer rolled over to 90 in August, so here is the column once more:

1. Life isn’t fair, but it’s still good.

2. When in doubt, just take the next small step.

3. Life is too short to waste time hating anyone.

4. Your job won’t take care of you when you are sick. Your friends and parents will. Stay in touch

5. Pay off your credit cards every month.

6. You don’t have to win every argument.  Agree to disagree.

7. Cry with someone. It’s more healing than crying alone.

8. It’s OK to get angry with God. He can take it.

9. Save for retirement starting with your first paycheck.

10. When it comes to chocolate, resistance is futile.

11. Make peace with your past so it won’t screw up the present.

12. It’s OK to let your children see you cry.

13. Don’t compare your life to others. You have no idea what their journey is all about.

14. If a relationship has to be a secret, you shouldn’t be in it.

15. Everything can change in the blink of an eye. But don’t worry; God never blinks.

16. Take a deep breath. It calms the mind.

17. Get rid of anything that isn’t useful, beautiful or joyful.

18. Whatever doesn’t kill you really does make you stronger.

19. It’s never too late to have a happy childhood. But the second one is up to you and no one else.

20. When it comes to going after what you love in life, don’t take no for an answer.

21. Burn the candles, use the nice sheets, wear the fancy lingerie. Don’t save it for a special occasion. Today is special.

22. Over prepare, then go with the flow.

23. Be eccentric now. Don’t wait for old age to wear purple.

24. The most important sex organ is the brain.

25. No one is in charge of your happiness but you.

26. Frame every so-called disaster with these words ‘In five years, will this matter?’

27. Always choose life.

28. Forgive everyone everything.

29. What other people think of you is none of your business.

30. Time heals almost everything. Give time time.

31. However good or bad a situation is, it will change.

32. Don’t take yourself so seriously. No one else does.

33. Believe in miracles.

34. God loves you because of who God is, not because of anything you did or didn’t do.

35. Don’t audit life. Show up and make the most of it now.

36. Growing old beats the alternative — dying young.

37. Your children get only one childhood.

38. All that truly matters in the end is that you loved.

39. Get outside every day. Miracles are waiting everywhere.

40. If we all threw our problems in a pile and saw everyone else’s,we’d grab ours back.

41. Envy is a waste of time. You already have all you need.

42. The best is yet to come.

43. No matter how you feel, get up, dress up and show up..

44. Yield.

45. Life isn’t tied with a bow, but it’s still a gift.

Where Everybody Knows Your Name

Zach had to work till closing time tonight at Chick-fil-A.  On the way to pick him up, I passed three bars–”taverns”, if you will.  All of the parking lots were full.  It was a little before 10:30PM on a Friday night.

On Fridays during the 5PM hour, “Pat’s Pub” is the feature on local talk radio.  Complete with the sound effect of callers’ favorite libations being poured, people gather over the airwaves to talk over their views on the news.  It’s a congenial hour of radio broadcasting.

I’ve been Facebook messaging back and forth the past couple of days with a friend who also is an adjunct faculty member at the community college where we’ll both find ourselves in the classroom in a couple of weeks.  She commented that she thinks one of the reasons she likes working there so much is because of the large number of employees who share a common set of faith beliefs.

The intersection of all of these snippets from the day in just the past few hours set me to thinking–to the tune of the theme song from the TV show “Cheers”.  (I may have seen part of one episode of that program sometime while channel surfing, but other than that, the only thing I know about it is the iconic nature of the thing and some of the words of the theme, which is played every week in conjunction with the  aforementioned “Pat’s Pub” radio segment.)

That idea of being glad you came because it’s “where everybody knows your name” is powerful.

There is something magnetic about a place where you feel known–and cared about.  What makes for a better time than being with people who know you and still love you–or, at the very least, will listen to you and interface with your life?  What makes for a more stressful time than being in a room full of strangers or, worse in my opinion, in a room full of people you know but with whom you feel you have nothing in common?  (That, in my lexicon, defines “loneliness”.)

The bar is full tonight.  There is never dead air space during “Pat’s Pub”.  It’s a plus in the workplace to know that you are among faith friends.

Day after tomorrow is Sunday.  My church will probably have at least one visitor.  So will yours, since it’s vacation season and people come to visit as well as go away to visit.  Will those people feel that , when the last “Amen”  of the morning is said, they’ve been to a place where they were known, where somebody understands life, where somebody thinks their particular life is significant enough to try to understand…in the larger, figurative sense of things, will they be glad they came to a place where everybody–especially God–knows their name?  I can be part of that for someone, if I’m paying attention–so can you.

…Dare ya.

Tingling in the Green Zone

It’s happening again.  I recognize that old, familiar rush.  It’s what happens when I’m where I’m supposed to be doing what I’m supposed to be doing.

I’ve got a new job.  I’ll be teaching two courses (three classes) of reading strategies at the local community college.  These classes are designed to review read-to-learn skills and help beginning college students get up to speed for dealing with college-level reading materials.

I’m excited.  In addition to just plain old loving to be in the classroom, I’m especially excited at the encouragement potential in teaching these particular courses.  Some students will be eager for the opportunity afforded by these classes.  Some students will be put out that they are required to take them, placed by virtue of their skills assessment test scores.  I want to affirm the former, and nurture and persuade the latter.

I love it when I say “yes” to something that is a good fit.  Don’t you just know it in your bones when that happens?  That’s why there are tasks that seem heavy and cumbersome to some people, while the same duties are a breeze and a delight for others.  People who analyze these things call the latter “working in your green zone”.  The former is functioning in one’s red zone.  It’s there that we are drained and depleted over the long haul.  We can get tired in our green zones, too, but it’s what some people call a “good tired”.  My friend Nancy, for example, is working on a big project this week for the children’s choirs for which she works–but, she’s the woman for the task, so her exhaustion at the end of the week, when it’s all over, will be because she’s poured herself out right where she’s meant to be.  On the other hand, we probably all know people who have faithfully functioned for years in tasks or jobs that weren’t really a good fit (yellow zone–they could do it, but….–or maybe even in their red zones) .  When their “tour of duty” finally ended, they could walk away without ever looking back and, if you saw them a month removed from their service, you’d remark at how refreshed and rested they were looking.

It’s always a good idea to take the occasional look at the “zones” in which we’re functioning.  Of all that I’m involved in, what energizes me?  (green) What am I doing that I can do in an okay manner, but it leaves me stressed and overeager for it to be done? (yellow)  In what realms of life am I daily dreading the tasks and finding myself drained and depleted regularly in the doing? (red)  The start of a new school year is a good time for some of us to evaluate.  Could it be time for a drop or an add to your course of life?

Marginalizing

I threw that word out at a meeting I attended this evening.  Its use was rooted in my at-the-moment frustration about something of significance that seemed to be getting shoved to an edge.  (As it turned out, a wiser head than mine offered a creative suggestion that will likely result in restoring the thing to a significant place while effectively addressing the need that triggered the problem to begin with.)

As I think about marginilization, I wonder:  When God looks at my life, what things that He deems significant–for my good, for His glory–have I pushed out to the edge of my daily living?  Which of these would be on His list for me and would cause Him frustration (or, at least, grief)?

• Time spent in His Word
• Time spent in prayer
• Focus on and concern for the needs of others
• A worshipful heart
• Good stewardship of all His blessings, including health and finances

I fear they’ve all made the list at one time or another–maybe they aren’t all there now, but all have been so somewhere along the line.

Jesus, be the Center. Everything else will radiate in its right place from that, and nothing will be shoved to the edge.

Consider What You’ve Seen

Asaph was struggling–or at least he was remembering a time he had been.  People don’t say things like, “…I was in distress,” or “… my soul refused to be comforted,” or “I was too troubled to speak” (things would have to be really, really horrible for me to get to that last one!) unless they’re having a tough time of it.  It had gotten to the point where he was beginning to have doubts about the big things:  “Has God’s unfailing love vanished forever?…Has His promise failed for all time?  Has God forgotten to be merciful?”

As all of this tumbled out of his heart to his mind and to his mouth, Asaph had an “Aha!” moment.  Bubbling up through all that rot was something on which he could get a grip and to which he could cling:  “the years of the right hand of the Most High.”  Figuratively, the right hand was the place from where good came.  It was a place of favor.  Asaph, in a flash of recall, didn’t lock on a single event, but instead flipped through the rolodex of time.  He began to “remember the deeds of the LORD… [His] miracles of long ago.”

Maybe he remembered the giant building project that God had set for a certain Noah and his sons–a boat bigger than anyone had ever seen or heard of, to save from a degree of destructiveness no one could fathom, brought about by the agency of an amount of water that was unthinkable.  God preserved that one little family and a boatful of animal pairs for the continuation of humanity and of His creation.   Maybe Asaph thought about the time, just as his forefather Abraham had been about to slit the throat of his son Isaac because God had told him to offer the boy as a sacrifice and it was Abraham’s habit to do what God said, that a loud bleat of a ram caught in a thicket nearby had been God’s way of being a Rescuer in a different way, providing a sacrifice that wasn’t a dearly loved son, just at the time when Abraham needed Him to come through, but not a moment sooner.

There had been miracles, too.  Water that did funny things like turn from bitter to sweet when a stick was thrown into it, or that came out of a rock when a man named Moses struck it, or, for goodness sake! that blew up into giant walls on both sides of a dry path made right through the middle of a sea!  Donkeys that talked, days made longer by the sun standing still, and a young boy given strength to kill a lion and a bear and, finally, a giant, with the unsophisticated weaponry that was a simple sling and a few rocks.

By the time Asaph has mentally visited a few of these “memorials” from his nation’s past or maybe some from a nearer, more personal time in his own or his immediate family’s life, his heart is singing a different tune:  “What God is so great as our God?…With your mighty arm You redeemed your people.”  He’s really on a roll now, enumerating nature’s response to this Almighty One: writhing, convulsing waters; resounding thunder; flashing lightning; quaking earth.  He recognizes the Unseenness of the One whose power can’t help but be seen if we are looking:  “Your path led through the sea, your way through the mighty waters, though your footprints were not seen.”

For all that, the personal touch of this mighty God in whom Asaph’s confidence has been restored by considering what he’s seen is not lost on him:  “You led your people like a flock by the hand of Moses and Aaron.”  In that simple declaration, God’s tender shepherd qualities and the fact that He often works His wonders and His will through human agency are acknowledged.

*********

These are the things that I pondered as I reflected on Psalm 77 this morning.  It made me think again of a song lyric that comes to my mind often–”We’ll praise Him for all that is past and trust Him for all that is to come.”  In those moments when life’s low times would grab at my feet and threaten to keep me under till I’m overwhelmed and drowning because of the weightiness of living in this place that sometimes lacks light and harmony and beauty, I must do what Asaph did.  I must consider what I’ve seen.  When I do, the low times let go and I rise to the surface to breathe in the beautiy of life in the sun, with a buoyancy that will let me get to a place of looking up, of rescue, of going on with hope and assurance.

Somewhere Else: An Announcement

I decided to start a new blog.  Why not?

Actually, why?

Maybe this is segmenting my life too much, but here’s the explanation:  My original xanga blog, “Ma’s Musings”, has ended up being my “for fun” place, for the most part.  (I started that blog when my email username was “mavan”, for Michael and Amy VanHuisen.  I don’t really think of myself as “Ma”, nor do any of my children call me that–and they’d better not start!–but it seemed good at the time.  Not so fond of it now, but…)  This blog, “Through Changing Eyes”, is where I think out loud about things that are a little more weighty.  Those are both generalities, though, because if you read in either place, you’ll be able to identify some crossover.

However, I’ve deliberately tried to not bring too much political or in-the-news discussion to this site, even though I’m very interested in those things.  I’ve wanted the blog you are reading to be a place of encouragement and day-brightening, and sometimes those other topics are somewhat lacking in that regard.

Thus, the new blog.  “What’s Out There?” is where I’ve decided I’ll talk about things political and in-the-news from time to time.  I hope you will read and comment, and maybe we can get some productive conversations going…or at least spur one another to think and act in a way that reflects good stewardship of our freedoms as citizens of this country.

Links to each blog are at the right in my blogroll.

Because I Can

On the computer desk beside me is a “souvenir” Zach brought home from South Carolina.  It is a plastic bag/sleeve (reminds me of what you get in the help-yourself-floral departments at the grocery) printed with the words “For Your Convenience–Wet Umbrella Bag”.  I think he got it at a Wal-Mart.

Now, that store wouldn’t have to do that–provide something for you to put your dripping wet umbrella in.  You could just drip all over their floor or all over the contents of your shopping cart.  But they provide the bag anyway–because they can.

Thinking about that simple gesture made me think about things I might do, not because anyone is making me or even asking me to, but just because I can:

• Polish Michael’s shoes
• Offer a morning of babysitting to my daughter on one of her days off, so she can have some free time at home
• Make one of my guys’ favorite dinners
• Finish the shower curtain valance that will complete the bathroom re-decorate project begun last January
• Take some cookies or something else to my new neighbors
• Take some cookies or something else to my old neighbors
• Send a note in my teenager’s suitcase next time he’s gone for a few days
• Call my mom and dad instead of writing a letter
• Write a note of thanks to someone in my church who faithfully appears in the same place doing the same job every week
• Give a little bit bigger than normal tip next time I’m out to eat
• Leave the quarter in the shopping cart at Aldi so the next person won’t have to spend theirs
• Put the extra loose shopping cart into the cart corral at the store, even if I’m not the one who brought it out to the parking lot

My day is always brightened by the person who does the undemanded-but-much-appreciated thing just because he or she can:  the check-out lady who double bags my heavy juice bottles; the hostess who sets an extra pretty table; my husband who folds the basket of clothes that I’ve set on the bed to get to later; my son who takes his backpack up to his room on his first trip up there after getting home, instead of waiting for me to ask him to move it; a saint who listens to Jesus and sends an encouraging card at just the right time; the friend who pays for my lunch when I was perfectly okay with going Dutch; my mother-in-law, now deceased, who used to occasionally slip an extra $10 or $20 in her weekly letter–”have a treat on us”, she’d say; the college student who more than once said, “Merry Christmas!  This evening of babysitting is on me” as we were pulling out the cash to pay her; the dad of a friend who. hardly knowing my daughter, contributed generously to her missions trip a few years back; the stranger in the check-out line who says, “You go first–you only have a couple of things” when I would otherwise have had to stand behind and wait while she checked out a whole cart full of groceries.

What will I do tomorrow for someone else, just to make their day brighter or their life a little easier, not because they expect it, but because I can?  What will you do?

Tender Mercies

A friend smiles…
And you know life won’t always feel as sad as this moment does.

Ancient Words are called to your attention…
And you know God was thinking of you at that moment in which they were breathed.

You pull into your driveway…
And know that close call a few blocks from home could just as well have ended otherwise.

The cutting words are on the tip of your tongue…
you are forced to swallow them when the hiccups take over.

You’ve labored for hours on that email that will really tell her off this time…
You hit delete when you fall asleep at the keyboard.

You waited to nag your teenager…
And he figured it out himself.

You pour out all the junk and the hurt and your pain and the tapes that play lies in your brain…
a friend hears your heart.

A longing goes unfulfilled until it has faded to a nearly imperceptible shadow…
And you are surprised by joy. (Thank you, C.S. Lewis.)

I Choose Colors…or Not

“If you had to choose between colors and diameters, which would you choose?”  My friend Jon posed this question in response to my last post, written with the purpose of soliciting some ideas and thoughts to stir the brain a bit.

Jon’s question–definitely apples and oranges…at first blush.

“Of course, I’d choose colors,” was my first thought.  Exotic, stimulating, relaxing, expressive, beautifying, clarifying–colors can be all these. I’ve mentioned here before that a trip to the fabric store or the paint chip rack leaves me nearly giddy from the delight of all those colors.  Peacocks and rainbows have the same impact.   I don’t think of boundaries when I think of color.  I think of expanse.

Diameters on the other hand–who chooses diameters, Jon?  Who thinks about diameters, Jon?  Ah…but then I think about my friend Jon.

Sometimes his ideas are just a little bit random and off the wall.  (He won’t mind me saying that; I think he will agree.)  Sometimes they start there, but a second look, a second think, takes you farther.  (He will nod his head, I think.)

So–I have a second think about diameters.

What is the nature of a diameter?  It connects two points on a circle–the two points that are directly opposite each other on that circle.  I like circles–the family circle, circles of friends.  Social networking is kind of about diameters–lots of criss-crossing diameters connecting various points on the same circle…or on circles which intersect, as in a Venn diagram.

Hmmm…I’m beginning to think I might choose diameters…sometimes.  Truth be told, I think life would be lacking without both.

(And, Jon, here’s one for you:  If you had to choose between Venn diagrams and thumb tacks, which would choose?)

Brain Stir

If you check in here very often, you know I haven’t been posting very regularly. You also know that we’re in the job-hunt mode in our family. I think that has diverted some of my creative and observational juices to a different kind of focus.

So…stir my brain.

If YOUR creative juices are flowing or your synapses are firing overtime and you need to do a little offload, feel free to leave a question, topic, or starter sentence. It just might be the jump start that helps my brain take off down the road to another post. Thanks!