Category Archives: Uncategorized

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Excited?

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A few weeks ago while rehearsing as part of the praise team at my church, I surveyed the other members and realized I could be the mother of EVERY person on stage. We were singing “young” music and to say that I felt really old and out of place in that moment is an understatement. No one made me feel that way. This was just me. As much as I love music and I love singing, I’m beginning to question my proper place in the music of my church. Actually, I’m questioning my place in a lot of areas.

When I was younger, the fall signaled a fresh and exciting new start. I looked forward to the first day of school with new experiences and new things to learn. As long as my kids were in school, I had the same excitement. I miss that excitement. I miss being excited. About anything.

I’ve had the chance to listen and read about opportunities that friends have and will undertake. Honestly, I envy the direction they have right now. I envy the excitement they feel. I long to be excited about what I’m doing at church or at work or anywhere. I guess I’m having a mid-life crisis of sorts.

I realize that not everything that is important is exciting. And, I can’t base my life on the excitement level. A lot of what is necessary can be humdrum and monotonous and still fulfilling. But, I don’t want to get stuck in the “I’ve always done it” loop either. So, the new school year is my signal to take a step back and review my commitments. This is the time I need to question where my time and efforts should be directed.

What needs to change?
Where does God want me serve?
Do I need to step back from some areas?

I’m waiting for even the tiniest bit of anticipation or excitement about serving to return.

Restore to me the joy of your salvation, and make me willing to obey you. (Psalms 51:12 NLT)

Unknown's avatar

My Daddy

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My dad was my biggest fan. He encouraged me even when he didn’t like my choices. Deciding to move 400 miles away to go to college was not what he wanted, but he still encouraged me. Moving to Houston after my graduation from college was not part of his plan, but he was always proud of who I had become. He eventually learned to appreciate Terry even though it meant I was tied to the Houston area a little tighter.

I was the first child. And I spent lots of time with my daddy. He took me to the farm. I got to ride on the lift at the gas station while they changed his pickup oil. He taught me to drive so i could help move farm equipment. He got me my first chihuahua puppy, my first Siamese cat and my first Pekingese puppy. He bought a Chevy Vega Wagon and drove it for a year before I got my license because that was the car I wanted. I learned that he traded cars faster when he was irritated when we traded that Vega for a Mercury Capri. He painted my first trombone case purple.

I got my techie gadget desire from Daddy. He loved CB & Ham radios. I’ve been to many a Hamfest in my life and met many people as a result. We had commercial radios when we started driving. And woe be the child that did not answer our radio when called!!

I was sure my daddy could do anything. He built cradles, carved bowls, loaded ammo, worked on cars among other things. He almost ruined me for other men. He didn’t remember birthdays, but he knew he had one child during harvest, one around Christmas time & one during wheat sowing season.

Today is Daddy’s birthday. The first one without him. I miss him.

Happy Birthday, Daddy!

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Shattered, Broken & Damaged

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Shattered. Broken. Damaged. All descriptors I have used to describe my life at various times. I’ve been shattered. It’s hard to explain being shattered to someone who has never been there.

One afternoon on the way home from work, I was following a truck that was loaded with Large sheets of glass. The driver hit a bump and one of the sheets bounced out of the truck and hit the pavement in front of me. It shattered instantly and my car and several around me were showered in a rainbow of colors as the shards of glass bounced off of the pavement and back over us. There was no lasting damage to any of the vehicles, but that pane of glass was destroyed. That’s how I felt. Totally destroyed and torn apart. I couldn’t begin to pick up the pieces. The world continued to spin and the people around me kept living their lives. My life lay in sharp, sparkly pieces all around me. I was almost afraid to touch any of those pieces, fearing the cutting pain that comes from brushing against the sharp edges that were so newly exposed.

I knew I had to pick up the pieces around me. There was much pain and many tears as the sharp edges stabbed and cut while trying to reconstruct my life. As time passed, I learned how to carefully pick up the pieces so the pain was not too severe. Scars were forming that offered a tougher exterior that was harder to tear apart and the sharp edges were dulling with time and wear. I assembled a large collection of broken pieces. I stored them away in pretty containers that hid the ugly edges from view. The fragments caught the light and sometimes sparkled and danced for those that cared to look. And in the dark of night, I would often get those pieces out, survey the damage and try once again to fit them together. Trying to match those sharp edges together to form something that was part memory and part dream. Something that didn’t hurt when I touched it.

Over months and years, I suppose, many pieces have been reassembled. There are pieces that still don’t fit. And, there are gaps where some pieces are missing. There are lots of cracks and it’s not always pretty to observe. I still spend time in the darkness trying to figure out where the next piece belongs. You can see the original form is still there. It’s just not quite right.

There are days, when the light shines just right, that all the cracks and gaps emit a beautiful rainbow of color. I’m still broken, but there is beauty to be seen if only for a moment. Its worth the wait for a glimpse of what used to be.

Unknown's avatar

A Good Name

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When Zachary was wresting as a heavy-weight his junior year in high school, he absolutely HATED getting the silver medal. Taking 2nd place in a tournament was just not good enough. So, he would go over the moves that cost him the match (his own and his opponents) and strive improve at the next tournament. One of the interesting things about watching the guys at wrestling tournaments was the camaraderie. You might spend 6 minutes throwing each other all over the mat, but when the match was over, you shook hands and were (in most cases) friendly competitors. I would watch the 215 & 285 wrestlers sit around the gym and discuss opponents and their moves and giving out tips. The wrestlers that excelled were the ones that gave as many pointers as they took. They were all working to make each other better wrestlers. It made the sport more fun. By the time Zac had reached his Senior Year run for state, taking the silver wasn’t too bad. He wanted the gold, but being top two was an accomplishment. He had done the best that he could and he could be proud of what he did and proud of his fellow competitors on the podium. Nothing shows immaturity more than the athlete that throws his medal to the floor rather than accept something other than the gold.

I’m always amazed that so many adults have not learned to take pride in their own accomplishments. Too many “professional” people are intent upon tearing apart others in order to prove their own worth & importance. If we spent as much time taking care of our own business as we spend pointing out or fabricating the faults in others, how much better would our world be? What happened to doing the best job that I can and being proud of it? If I land two new accounts at work, do I really need to bad mouth the person that landed three? Does that make me look better? If I made a decision that is not going to be popular with my staff, does lying about why that decision was made make me a better supervisor? What happened to honesty is the best policy? Who will EVER trust me? Who will I ever be able to trust?

The last few months have reminded me just how blessed I truly am. I was raised in a home where my accomplishments were recognized. I knew that whatever I did, I would get support from my parents & extended family. I never felt the need to “out-do” anyone else. Whether I was 1st chair or 9th or didn’t even make the region band, my parents were proud that I tried and did my best. Disappointments were there, but they were never viewed as failures. And that was true for all three of us. Our greatest fans were our own parents. None of us ever had to sneak around to see someone because he/she was the “wrong color”. Even when I wanted to date someone who was really too old for me, my parents said “no”, but never ‘forbid’ our friendship. Even when the hair-length became an issue at school, my parents stood up for what they believed. They may not have been on the same side of the issue as others in our community, but it wasn’t a death-blow to relationships with most. The only ones that carried a grudge about that issue were those with poor self images that craved total control and viewed anything other than total submission as anarchy.

Similarly, I was blessed with a wonderful husband. He never treated me as inferior because I was a woman. He didn’t have a need to control my every movement or thought. He was never threatened by the men that I worked with in the Oil Patch. I never had to worry about him cheating on our marriage vows. His word was his bond: we were married ‘til death do we part. There were times that things were rough, but leaving was not an option that either of us considered. Our marriage was a partnership based on love and respect. If there were two sides to any issue, we would be on opposing sides. It happened every time and that was okay. Having different views didn’t mean we couldn’t be respectful toward each other and work to a mutual conclusion. It was not a reason to step outside of our marriage and run the other into the ground.

Thru my years as a professional in the Oil Patch, I’ve seen lots of different behaviors. There are those that are said to be “legends in their own mind”. They only pay heed to their own thoughts and ideas, because anything less is failure. I understand how truly blessed I have been to work with true mentors throughout my career. These people took the time to develop me as a professional. They listened when I didn’t agree, valued my opinions & did not assume I was questioning their authority when I did have a different approach or idea. We worked together to form successful teams, recognizing that all the parts make a much better whole. They didn’t need to stand on the “bloodied bodies” they left behind. The best managers/mentors understand that when you move out of your own very small circle of influence, that pile of bodies will collapse and is an indication of the true character that is at work. All credibility is lost when it is based on untruths & dishonest motives.

I have spent 30+ years in the Oil Patch and I have benefited from following the example of integrity set before me by my parents & my mentors. I try to give more than is required of my job. I do my best to make my supervisor & co-workers look good. And, I have been consistently ranked at the top of my classification thru the years as a result. In 2000, I chose to try the stay-at-home mom route. I was actively recruited by supervisors/co-workers to return to my former company the following year. In 2009, the recruiting calls started again and they were from those Oil Patch guys I had supported & worked with thru the years. My reputation as a hard-working & honest team player had followed me. As a result, I changed companies in early 2010. In 2013, when drilling in the Gulf was no longer an option for my company, I was again recruited & didn’t miss a days work. Often times, I lose sight of how important networking with a strong reputation can be. A good reputation is worth everything. Jobs are won and lost everyday based on character assessments. Anyone can be taught to do a job. Not everyone can be taught integrity.

So, what is your reputation worth? If you were a fly on the wall and could hear others talk about you, would you be pleased? Do you find it necessary to slander and/or misrepresent others in order to be “the boss”? Do you need to rant and rave in front of others to feel important? Are you afraid of hearing negative feedback? Can you look EVERYONE you meet in the eye? Are you big enough to let the truth speak for itself?

Proverbs 22:1 A good name is to be chosen rather than great riches, and favor is better than silver or gold.

Unknown's avatar

The Chihuahua

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I have 2 small dogs. Maynard, the chihuahua is 12 & PUP (pee-you-pee) the Pekingese, is 13. Every time I sit down Maynard appears in my lap. I know he loves me and wants to be near me. He growls if I pick him up or touch him with both hands. He gets really angry if I touch him when he’s asleep. But, let something scare him and he will beg to be carried. I am allowed to scratch his head for a few minutes each morning and evening until he starts to growl. At those times he will look at me and whine until I pet him. But it never lasts long. PUP, on the other hand, would be perfectly content to be petted and scratched 24 hours a day. Some mornings, I wake up to PUP standing on my chest with her nose almost touching mine, waiting for my eyes to open. As soon as she’s sees an eyelid move, she starts nuzzling for attention. She walks in front of me looking back to be sure I’m still coming with her. She’s barks, and whines and stomps her feet to get my attention.

I wonder how often I have been a “Maynard” in my relationship with God. How many times have I asked for guidance and blessings only to growl when I become frightened or out of control? Why can’t I Look forward to every moment with God, revel in the guidance and attention?

Unknown's avatar

Story

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Featured Five Minute Friday:
Here’s the deal. Five Minute Friday. You go find the little prompt at the wonderful Lisa-Jo’s blog, set the time and write for five minutes, and then just stop. Where you are, no edits, just publish raw words.

1. Write for 5 minutes flat – no editing, no over thinking, no backtracking.
2. Link back here and invite others to join in.
3. And then absolutely, no ifs, ands or buts about it, you need to visit the person who linked up before you & encourage them in their comments. Seriously. That is, like, the rule. And the fun. And the heart of this community..

OK, are you ready? Please give us your best five minutes on the word:::

Story
GO

When I was in college, I worked in an Abstract office. This was in the days before photo-coping was accepted, so I spent my days typing from the county records. I typed copies of deeds, leases, wills, adoptions, anything that was filed in the county records that affected the title of a piece of land. The lady I worked for had started working in the county records office as a teen and eventually became a partner in the Abstract company. She was in her 70’s when I knew her. I loved to work on old abstracts and hear her stories about the people involved. If the wills and records were interesting on their own, she made them more so. She truly knew the history of the area.

Many times, I wonder if my story is of any interest to anyone. Will anyone care about my story in the days to come? What impact have I had on others that would make my story important? Will I be a footnote in the history of someone’s life or just a joke? I want my story to be told. So, I am resolved to make my life the best story that it can be.

Unknown's avatar

Silence

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Silence, the white space of daily lives. White space is important in art. It’s vital for the written word. Without white-space, words run together. Paintings lose focus. Music becomes noise. Photographs are not as sharp. We all need white-space. Silence. We long for it. We dread it.

Silence can mean peace and solitude. A time to reflect and re-energize. It’s in the comfort of silence that we find acceptance. Giving our permission to be exposed in that white space as the silent moments tick by. In a conversation, silence can be unnerving. The need to fill every moment with words seems to overwhelm. And yet, it’s often the silence that brings clarity. A time to think and consider.

Silence can be isolating, lonely, even feel hopeless. Words are weapons that we throw around with abandon. Silence is often the conscious decision to withhold any contact, positive or negative, from an intended victim. Withholding compliments, endearments, encouragement, instruction, concerns, questions and even correction can often cause as much injury as careless words. “Sticks and stones may break my bones, but words will never hurt me!” A common chant during childhood, one soon realizes that the “sticks and stones” are preferred to the less visible daggers being hurled. Words are invisible and we may never completely recover from an attack. Unfortunately, it’s the refusal to say ANYTHING that many times leaves the deepest scars.

Words are key bringing joy as well as inflicting pain. Too often, we only hear the negative things in life. When positive, uplifting talk is a normal part of your life, you can begin to take it for granted. But, let it disappear, for a moment, a day or forever, and you realize how much those words were needed to survive. You begin to suffocate under the everyday occurrences of life without the encouragement of positive words. And in those moments, filling the white-space is vital. Self-talk takes over every thought and even negative comments are sought. Anything to get rid of the silence that is so consuming. We no longer find comfort in the silence.

So, how do we make silence our ally? How do we harness the moments and embrace them? How do we live within the white spaces?

While we have no control over the words others give to us, we do control the words we give out. Make a conscious effort to be aware of your words as they are bandied about. Cushion the very silence others may fear with kind words. When difficult conversations are necessary, use gentle words to discuss problems. Don’t fall into the trap of using silence to hide issues or exact punishment. Help to blur the sharp edges of the white space. Build boundaries with your times of silence, not barriers. Enhance the relationships around you with thoughtful silences that promote confidence and security. Whenever the opportunity arises to share a loving word, to pay a compliment or to silently smile, TAKE IT!

With some effort, one will begin to recognize that silence is golden. Not as in a gilded cage that entraps, but as a precious commodity to be treasured.

Gentle words are a tree of life; a deceitful tongue crushes the spirit. Proverbs 15:4 NLT

Unknown's avatar

In Between

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Featured Five Minute Friday:
Here’s the deal. Five Minute Friday. You go find the little prompt at the wonderful Lisa-Jo’s blog, set the time and write for five minutes, and then just stop. Where you are, no edits, just publish raw words.

1. Write for 5 minutes flat – no editing, no over thinking, no backtracking.
2. Link back here and invite others to join in.
3. And then absolutely, no ifs, ands or buts about it, you need to visit the person who linked up before you & encourage them in their comments. Seriously. That is, like, the rule. And the fun. And the heart of this community..

OK, are you ready? Please give us your best five minutes on the word:::

In Between

GO

Most of my life I’ve been a mom. I was either “mothering” friends and classmates, or later in life my own kids. By the end of 2013, both kids will be on their own. I’m at that strange place of still being a “mom” but needing to stand back and not “mother” so much.

So the question arises, Now What? Where do I go from here? For the first time in almost 25 years, I will have no one that directly depends upon me. I can make choices. I am free. And it scares me a bit not to be anchored. Vaguely reminiscent of that time between high school and college or college and my first job, I’m caught in between holding on to the familiar and excitement for the future. What’s out there in the world for a middle-aged widow lady? Am I a butterfly ready to fly from the cocoon? Will my fear of flying cripple me? I’m looking to what God has to show me for my future. It could be that I’m right where I need to be. And, that would be fine. Or, there could be a great adventure in my future. That would be exciting.

Maybe, there’s a bit of both!! Here we go!

Unknown's avatar

Happiness: A right or a privilege

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Recently, at a high school graduation ceremony, the principal listed several things that have affected the graduates of 2013. These graduates have never known life without a cellphone or MP3 player. They’ve watched technology take off and offer “new & improved” things with increased regularity. Social media are the norm for this graduating class: Facebook, Twitter, Snapchat, Instagram. They’ve had pictures and videos posted on a routine basis for most of their lives. DVRs, Netflix, Hulu & Amazon Prime have made on-demand television and movie watching an expectation. You no longer have to wait for the summer reruns to know what happened.

We have developed a fast-moving, impatient life style. Remember Hallmark’s slogan “When you care enough to send the very best”? Today, with the instant social media, Facebook “helps you connect and share with the people in your life.” We used to get the Yellow Pages and “let your fingers to the walking”. Now, Verizon trumpets “Can you hear me now?” Timex told us “it takes and licking and keeps on ticking.” Nike says “Just do it!” In our fast food society, we are unwilling to wait for anything. In our rush to make everything better, and faster, and quicker. we have robbed our children of the gift of savoring the moment.

We push our kids to grow up quickly. Little girls are dressed like grown-ups with make-up and high-heels. We start asking about boyfriends before they can read. Little boys are “coached” early to excel in sports. Our children are exposed to open sexuality in the media, in entertainment and too often in our homes. We no longer protect their innocence, but encourage adult behaviors way before the emotional base is ready to handle it. We are more concerned with being friends with our children than we are in parenting them.

We teach our kids with our own actions that happiness is the most important thing in life. We show them that happiness means a big house, a fancy car, and lots of money. Happiness is something pursued with a passion. People become disposable in the quest for happiness. The momentary pleasures and excitements that were at one time considered the little extras of a respectable, hard-working man or woman’s commitments, have now become the focus of everyday life. Why waste time on commitments and promises? Just go directly to the fun! I deserve to be happy. And, when happiness becomes elusive in one place, we just move on to another.

Don’t misunderstand me. I’m all for being happy. It’s my preferred emotion. But, it is just that: an emotion. I do not want to be controlled by my emotions. And I do not believe happiness should come at the expense of those around me or even of my own conscience.

I look around at the world that I am leaving to my kids and my grand kids and sigh. My generation has done so much damage with the lackadaisical attitudes we have taught this generation. Adulthood brings with it responsibilities and privileges. unfortunately, my generation has taught that the privileges are actually rights. And these rights often are demanded at the expense of the responsibilities.

More is not necessarily better. Fast doesn’t always mean quality. Easy doesn’t build strength or character. Stop running after temporary happiness and instead make some serious, life-long investments of time and patience.

Unknown's avatar

Rhythm

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Featured Five Minute Friday:
Here’s the deal. Five Minute Friday. You go find the little prompt at the wonderful Lisa-Jo’s blog, set the time and write for five minutes, and then just stop. Where you are, no edits, just publish raw words.

1. Write for 5 minutes flat – no editing, no over thinking, no backtracking.
2. Link back here and invite others to join in.
3. And then absolutely, no ifs, ands or buts about it, you need to visit the person who linked up before you & encourage them in their comments. Seriously. That is, like, the rule. And the fun. And the heart of this community..

OK, are you ready? Please give us your best five minutes on the word:::

Rhythm…

GO

We talk of the rhythm of life. The easy movement among and between friends and family. Easy conversations and interactions, normal stuff makes up the rhythm of our lives. But, what happens when the rhythm is upset, when an extra beat is added or removed. What then? There are times when it’s just a small blip, much like 2/4 measure stuck into a 4/4 piece in music. You just make a short adjustment and then you go back to the way it was. But, then there are those times in music where you switch completely from 4/4 to 3/4. It’s not easy. It takes work to change the downbeat, to change the rhythm until it feels normal again.

That’s much the way life is. There are days of feeling so normal and then the blips come along. And sometimes there are more than blips, and we have to adjust to a new normal. A new rhythm of life. Not always easy and very awkward at first. But, eventually, it feels okay. Maybe even right. The rhythm of life.