Come Down From the Ledge

I hope you are nothing like me.  I hope that right now as you are reading this - you are comfortably relaxed enjoying a schedule that is manageable and realistic. 
But most likely you are not.  Most likely you are just like me, climbing up a proverbial skyscraper bombarded by chants to scale the tall cement wall while not sure exactly what is even at the top.  What if it is just a ledge?
What if after all that climb, all those skinned knees, and bloody fingers...all you get is just a ledge for which the expectation is just to jump?  What if that is how the world works?  What if you are part of a grand scheme to wear out human beings and get them to a place that they believe they can conquer the largest feats alone?  What if those chants are driven by pride?  What if?  Who will call you down from the ledge?  Will you just jump and be satisfied with a brand name that people will remember?  Or will you beg for someone to call you down?
I am a wuss.  I want a tender, poetic voice to call me down from the ledge and invite me to relax with a cup of coffee and a gluten free treat of sorts.  I also want as I am sitting in the presence of this gentle giant that has pulled me off the ledge to feel this sense of value as if the climbing was not in vain, but truly planned with some purpose much bigger and greater than me.
I believe I am being summoned off the ledge right now.  Asked to grab the neck of a Savior who knows exactly why I climbed so fervently in the first place.  I am saved.  Saved from myself and saved from the world's expectation of me.
My coffee this morning was delicious and the view from the grass is much more precious to me than the view from the ledge.  Next time I will just use the elevator.
"For this God is our God for ever and ever; he will be our guide even to the end." Psalms 48:14 

Peace - Under the Sun

This world is tough.  I don't know about you, but it seems that every time I cross off enough to-do's that I can finally breathe there comes a flood of new ones.  Some days I just want to say, "no thank you" to dealing the difficulties of the land of the living.
But sometimes, just sometimes we find ourselves surprised by a serious guffaw that just negates all of the chaos and brings back a sense of peace.  I am assuming this is the kind of peace Solomon spoke of when he talked about our greatest moments on earth not reflecting our pocketbook or our accomplishments, but instead reflecting our satisfaction with living.
I have found that most of those moments take place with children.  They speak about the elephant in the room, actually point fingers at it and laugh.  They cry when they get hurt - refreshing.  They give out random hugs for no reason.  And most importantly, they don't take themselves seriously, they just enjoy being.

Children are not new "under the sun" and their attributes have most likely been around since the beginning of human conception, so let's all roll up our sleeves and jump in the sandbox and praise God for little reminders of the peace that can be found on earth.
 

Empty Eyes

We throw around the word "hope" all the time, but have you personally ever seen someone who has lost it? Sure you have - you've seen homeless people on corners, or maybe a prostitute trying to make a dollar.  You know it, how?  You can see they've lost it by looking into their eyes - the eyes tell the story. 
A car filled with five of us drove over six hundred miles in a day to get to my little girl's Teepa in Nashville last Friday.  Everyone in that car was convinced that we might find a man struggling to stay alive after a bone marrow transplant early this month - his name is Tom Hudson.  It took less than five minutes and one look into his war torn face to realize that the drive was worth it.  His eyes were deep and dark and can only be described as "empty."  As he squeezed my hand I found myself staring into his eyes overcome with such a sense of loss, a tear streamed down the right side of his cheek.  Unknowingly, I found myself so empathetic that my heart began to ache and my anxiousness from the night before returned.  The experience broke my heart.
How does a vibrant man full of life and a golf game most men envy turn into a man with empty eyes unable to eat?   He lost hope.  The eyes told the story.  Not the hope of Jesus and a resurrection, but the hope of living.  The hope of right now.  The hope that says, "today is gonna be a good day."
His days had not been good.  His days had been filled with hospital trips and tons of medication.  His days involved no activity, no stimulating conversations, just making it.  His days had been filled with the key theme being "survival."  Waves of displeasure - nausea, chills, anxiety - episodes to grit your teeth through to survive.
Most of our time in Nashville he remained this way, surviving.  But the night before we left Eden pulled out the Wii and brought back a sense of his past normal, playing games with his grand-daughter.  With each game, he became more involved.  I watched as the dark, empty eyes regained their vision of living.  He laughed. 

It was obvious that he remembered all the late nights playing Wii with us and wanted to return to that life of enjoyment.  His hope was returning, yes, food was to follow.
As hard as it was to pull away on Monday to make the trip home, the reality that we brought the antidote for empty eyes - visions of time with your grand-daughter - comforted all of us. With hope I am convinced we will have Wii nights once again with Teepa right here at home!

Believe

When our life becomes winding roads of adventures with no real common theme it is easy for us to lose heart or get lost in the activity.  But don't forget - there is always a stream in all of us that runs deep at our core.  A steady constant that keeps us afloat.  It is that we believe.
Remind yourself today of all of those beliefs that keep you running your race or gathering your berries.  You have them, they have created who you are and what you are doing with your life.  Remember them today and act on them tomorrow.
I believe love is the central force that holds us all together.
I believe that I am loved and able to love others with all of my mended heart.
If you are reading this, most likely, I dearly love you.

Believe... 

This Little Light of Mine

The day had been crazy.  Sasha, Blended Love's Executive Director, and I had been whisked abruptly into Fox 25's interview studio for our 8:20 a.m. interview around 8:17 a.m. or so.  Being out-of-towners to the area we had to rely solely on a GPS that spoke French.  As he demanded who knows what the arrows were hard to figure out and that resulted in a lot of unnecessary turns on the Oklahoma City expressways.  Exiting on Scott Street became a crowd favorite!
After the interview we had an appointment with Bethel Foundation in Oklahoma City.  Sasha had set up the meeting because she has been involved with some of their fundraisers and believed that I would enjoy learning more about their mission of providing opportunities and tangibles to single mothers.  In theory, great idea - but what I didn't expect....
I walked into this darling house with a gorgeous sign alerting moms that this could be their haven.  The beautiful scriptures that were so gracefully drawn on the wall were arrows to the heart of a path that leads to peace, a common emotion we all want, a common denominator to all who enter.  That peace was magnified as I turned to meet, Lynda, the humble servant who answered God's request to help His children - single moms.  Her inspirational, blue eyes echoed the same peace felt all over this home, except in her eyes this feeling was strongly coupled with determination.
As she spoke of her journey, my empathetic heart began to go down her road of suffering and understanding and yet all overshadowed by HOPE.  This hope has been the ingredient to all their programs.  The hope is as tangible as the "birthday room," a room designed for moms to come in and pick out toys for their children on their birthday and wrap them and leave with a birthday cake.  Hope...providing moms with the ability to make their child's birthday special.  Hope that these same children who receive birthday wishes will in return have a better life for their own children, a life where they can provide these special birthday moments.  Hope also in understanding that moms need hope not only for their children, but for themselves.
Bethel provides scholarships to driven moms looking for careers that require a degree.  Lynda quickly lights up as she speaks about their poster mom who has worked tirelessly to obtain her Masters degree.
Touring this incredible facility that even housed a free store to moms who have need of food, clothing, toys, diapers, etc. strengthened my core belief that we all have a light to shine and some have figured out the One who lights the flame and are allowing their light to shine so brightly that not even the jaded world of experience can blow it out.
Lynda, may your light shine so brightly no one can deny the illuminating beauty! Bethel Foundation

Sisters

The thunder is crashing and I am in a full sprint to my sister's room.  Not because she is the oldest, she is actually seven years younger, no I am in a panic that only the stubborn, strong sister of mine can cure.  As I slide under the covers I can feel her smooth legs up against mine and her arm come sliding over my back with a small tap.  She never really fully woke up on these nights, but her sleepy, apathetic presence reminded me that it was just thunder, not the end of the world.
I would like to say this illustration was a one time event in my childhood, but it wasn't.  Growing up in Oklahoma thunderstorms could be our state song.
As I hear the thunder now I am reminded of how grateful I am for those moments.  Moments of security.  Being a child of so many divorces, security has always been sacred.  Having a sister provided a lot of stability.
She was there.  Bad hair, awful outfits, tearful temper tantrums, you name it she saw it firsthand and loved me through it anyway.

Thank you, little sister.  You may be hours away today, but you are always in my heart and in my prayers.
 

Little Patriots

Patriot: (n.) A person who vigorously supports his country and its way of life

Last night, as the fireworks went off overhead, I realized that I am a grateful patriot living in a land of immense opportunity.  With each loud boom, I thought of the parents, probably my age, making the decision to give their children a better life...our life.  They were so brave.
Regardless of how you feel about the President or the government, you must stop and evaluate the whole of America.  No, we are not a perfect nation, but our imperfections are our choice.
Those who went before us gave us that choice.  Thank them, teach your children about them.
Let's stop preaching to our children all the errors of those who lead this great nation and instead teach them of "the way of life" we've been given.
Patriots can only be bred by patriotic parents and do we really want unpatriotic children growing up and leading this country?

God Bless our Little Patriots!