The "To Be" List

I am a list maker.  I make intricate "To Do" lists and, I must say, I'm pretty good at it.  I begin in the morning with a blank sheet of notebook paper and then I write down the things I would like to get accomplished in the next 12 hours.

Once I have a list, I review the items and number them in order of importance.  I even plan out the route I will take while completing my errands according to the location of the stores featured on my list, while burning the least amount of petroleum.

I take great pleasure in marking off a completed task.  Sometimes, when I'm feeling theatrical, I will drive through the bank, stop by the post office, and run into the grocery store, before stopping to cross all three of those items off the list.....with much pomp and circumstance.

 But yesterday I thought about creating a different kind of list.  I thought about sending my "To Do" list on sabbatical and replacing it with a "To Be" list.

Today, what do I need "To Be"?  Over the next 12 hours, how do I need to be behaving or how do I need to be treating others?

I can formulate a page-long list in my head even as I sit here typing:  I need to be forgiving, I need to be patient, I need to be kind...

Then I can number those in order of what I need to work on the most according to what I might be struggling with on that particular day.  I can even "plan out the route" for accomplishing tasks on the "To Be" list.  In order "to be forgiving" maybe I need to call an old friend, "to be patient" I should re-read the story of Hannah in the Bible, and "to be kind" I could mail a letter of encouragement to someone in need.

That's when I find that something amazing happens!  My "To Be" list becomes a "To Do" list with a much higher calling.

Because "To Do" lists and I go back a long time, I know I can't let them go completely, but maybe looking at them with a "To Be" attitude will allow for the organizing of my earthly tasks as well as the nurturing of my eternal soul.

"Thanks"...for the opportunity to be...."giving"

The view from my kitchen window this morning is lovely.  The sun floating in the clear sky, like a celestial crystal ball, foretells a beautiful Spring-like Thanksgiving Day.  In a few hours, we will be meeting up with 21 other tribe members and celebrating the holiday with a turkey dinner of colossal proportions.  We'll make our traditional Thanksgiving craft (this year it's an Indian headband, complete with the creation of unique Indian names for everyone in the family) and spend a good part of the day outside riding Uncle J's four wheeler, playing games, and shooting guns.

It's a "full" day in more ways than one:  full of food, full of laughter, full of fun, full of pictures; and it's spent with those who I consider to be my greatest blessings on this earth.

But let me take you back a couple of days and share with you an "A-Ha!" moment I had with my Kate.  The scene is set at Kroger, just after exiting the check out line, and standing in front of a paper angel Christmas tree.  Kate and I stopped to browse through the various Sharpie-scribed hopes of strangers and soon realized that the hopes on this particular tree were tantamount.

The inscribed abdominal wishes on these angels were not for bikes, or dolls, or Wii games, but rather $25.00 gift certificates for groceries.  I explained to Kate that the angels on the tree each represented a family in need, families who may not have enough money to buy a Thanksgiving dinner....and the cherubs were knocking elbows.  The tree was literally crowded with them. 

As we carried our bags to the car, filled with cans of pumpkin, pecans, fruit, peppermint mocha creamer and other preparatory items for today's meal, on the heels of the angel tree address, I was overwhelmed with an awareness of fortune.  In my mind I saw the checklist for Thanksgiving dinner, the itinerary for Black Friday shopping, the bonus room full of Christmas decorations ready to bask in their seasonal limelight....and could just imagine the Kroger angels sadly shaking their heads at my misguided focus. 

For me, it was a holiday reset.  It is my responsibility to "do good unto others" and to give according to how richly I have been blessed.  It is also my responsibility to instill in my children a sense of compassion for others and teach them to care for those who are less fortunate.  So today, on Thanksgiving, while keeping in mind family, friends, good health, and material blessings, I will also give thanks for opportunities to be giving.  The good that I pass on to others has a direct connect with the amount of good God has placed in my life....and my cup overflows.

"Every man shall give as he is able, according to the blessing of the Lord your God which He has given you."  (Deuteronomy 16:17)

"Upon this moment in time...."

In the High School girls' class on Sunday mornings we have started a study that I've entitled, "Happily Eternally After".  It's the story of a super-powered warrior princess, who happens to be me....and you....(if you're a girl)....and every other Christian woman in the world.  She's beautiful, she's kind, she's smart, and at the end of the story (SPOILER ALERT).....she wins!  (Of course, along the way she finds a handsome prince who sweeps her off her feet and they fall madly in love.....because this is a high school girls' class after all!)

A few weeks ago, after introducing our study, I gave the girls a piece of paper and had them write down their ideal life story.  I asked them, "If you could choose today how your story will be written, what would it say?  Where would you be in five years and what would you be doing?  What about fifteen years?  Thirty years?"

Then we kicked off our first chapter in the study, "Upon this moment in time..."  We talked about "moments" and how they relate to the life stories the girls wrote the previous week.  We discussed how single moments can either substantiate our stories or alter them.  Decisions you make, sometimes in the briefest of moments, can help you continue down the path in your "ideal story" or they can send you in another direction entirely.  Another direction is not always a bad thing (although it certainly can be)....as long as your story leads you to the same "happily eternally after" ending.

So I've been thinking a lot about "moments" over the past week.  I've thought about all of the choices those precious teenagers are making at this time in their lives.  I've thought about my three children and how, when I pray with them at night, I always ask for God to help them make good choices.  I've thought about my own life and how the choices I make not only affect me but also my family, my friends, and my co-workers.  Decision-making moments should not be taken lightly.

I've also thought about my life story:  I've flipped through the chapters that have already been written, I've looked at the plot lines that were red marked and revised, I've laughed and cried at some of my best and worst decision making moments, and now I'm wondering what will happen next.  I have my "ideal story" in mind and it definitely ends with "happily eternally after", but the pages are mine to write.

As we encounter moments that can change our stories it is important to consider them with the understanding that our manuscripts can be published at any given moment and once they are published, the ending cannot be changed.  Be sure that your "moments" support a story line that leads you to heaven!

M indful
O f
M y
E ternity
N ot
T emporary
S atisfaction

Praying For Mom Today

Today my mom is having total knee replacement surgery.  I made it up to the hospital with a laptop, books, flowers, and ready to sit and talk to her for hours before her procedure.  When I reached the floor where mom is staying I stopped by the nurses' station to make sure I had the right room number.  As it turned out, they had just taken my mom downstairs and she wouldn't be back to her room until after the surgery!  I was so upset that I had missed her and I asked if there was any way I could just quickly hug her neck down in the holding area.  The very kind Unit Secretary made a few phone calls and worked it out that I could visit with mom for a few minutes.

Like walking through scattered army men on the floor of my son's room, I visually discounted the IV equipment on her bed, effortlessly stepping around the needles, tourniquet, tubing, and alcohol swabs.  I, personally, have a disturbing fondness for successfully achieving venous access for patient's in the hospital.  Nothing bothered me about blue sugical gown and hat she was wearing; over the years I've seen countless patients and physicians donning the same.  What did strike me about my mother was that she was smiling:  A big beautiful smile.  And when she saw me she said, "There's my baby girl!  Isn't she obnoxiously skinny?"  (Note:  I am not obnoxiously skinny, but Mom always knows what to say to make someone walk a little taller).

I got my hug in.  I told her that I love her.  I asked my mom what she needed.

"Just a prayer", she said.

Not magazines, not lip balm, not pain medication, not a spotless house post discharge.

Just a prayer.

I am grateful to my mom for always teaching me what is most important.  "The effectual fervent prayer of a righteous man availeth much".  (James 5:16)

I want to be just like her.

A Race to Walk, A Race to Run

This past weekend I traveled to Wright-Patterson Air Force Base in Dayton, Ohio to participate in the Air Force Half Marathon with my Dad (a retired Brigadier General), my two sisters, and a close family friend.  We have deemed this trek to Wright-Patt an "annual family tradition", complete with matching T-shirts to wear on race day and 1732 digitally perserved moments of gut busting hilarity by the end of the weekend. 

When it comes to a half-marathon, we join the ranks of the "walkers".  We keep a steady heel-toe pace for the duration of the course and are quite content being left in the dust of the pacers and qualifiers.  Now, I am all about training and conditioning for a run, and even have a hankering for the competition from time to time, but when I'm with my family at one of these events, we pound the pavement for a different purpose.  To us, the half-marathon journey is about the fellowship, about the laughter, about the bonding.  It's 13.1 miles of precious memory making.

It's different, though, when it comes to the race we run as Christians.  Paul admonished the church in Corinth that in regard to this race, they should be "in it to win it" (I Corinthians 9:24) and the writer of Hebrews tells us that we should "run with endurance the race that is before us, fixing our eyes on Jesus" (Hebrews 12:1-2).  The Christian race requires discipline and training.  In this race, the purpose IS to win the prize, which is only reserved for those faithful runners whose hearts are focused on staying the course.  

Life's course is not an easy one.  Orange cones don't align the way making it obvious the direction you should go, rather you determine the course through careful Bible study and constant prayer.  Sometimes the road is rough, sometimes you feel like dropping out of the race, sometimes the prize at the end seems unobtainable:  those are the times when it really helps to be surrounded by family and friends who share a common goal.  I've learned from these half-marathons that sometimes you can face difficulties on your own, but sometimes you cannot.

One year, my Dad, my sisters, and I found ourselves walking the Country Music Half Marathon and noticed an older gentleman ahead.  His gray tipped "high and tight" and his T-shirt sporting the letters USMC, gave him away as being retired military.  He shuffled along, sweat dripping off his face, eyes locked on the pavement ahead, when all of a sudden something in his path caused him to trip.  He fell, full impact, to the ground.  My Dad rushed over to offer help, but the man stopped him abruptly with an upheld palm, and with all confidence stated, "I got this".  He stood up, blood coming from scratches on his head, arms, and legs and restarted his shuffle to the finish line.  Dad turned to me and my sisters and said, "Now that is one tough fella!"  Sometimes, in life, when you fall along the course you can honestly say, "I got this" and you just get up and keep going.

On the other hand, sometimes you need the help of others in order to stay on track.  There is nothing more motivating at a marathon than to witness blind runners participating in the event.  At times, these individuals will run in the center of a protective circle of friends who will guide them around obstacles and keep them within bounds.  Other times, they run with a partner and the two will be connected by a rope, or a bar, or will even hold opposite ends of a towel in order to share vision on the course and safely reach the finish line.  Occasionally, from behind you'll hear the shout, "Blind runner, coming through!" and immediately the crowd will heed the voice of the caller and clear a passage for the team who represents such a spirit of unity, strength, and endurance.

So, there it is.  Life is a race that we run to win and we don't quit!  Challenges arise, like potholes or cracks in the blacktop and whether we stagger alone with road rash or reach out to fellow runners when we lose sight of the path, we keep on keeping on!  The true joy will be crossing the finish line where the prize awaits!  Then we will be able to say, like Paul in II Timothy 4:7-8, "I have fought the good fight, I have finished the course, I have kept the faith; in the future there is laid up for me the crown of righteousness, which the Lord, the righteous Judge, will award to me on that day; and not only to me, but also to all who have loved His appearing".

Car Camping Ninjas

My life before Sam did not involve camping.  It involved a great deal of traveling, loads of family time, an omnipresent poodle, and plenty of outdoor activities....but my family never slept in tents....or any other portable habitat.....unless you count sleeping in the car a form of urban camping....and if that counts, then my sisters and I are true camping connoisseurs. 

The Air Force took our family all over this wonderful country and we spent many hours of the day, and night, on the road.  In fact, if you blindfolded me and sat me in the back seat of an 80s model Audi, Volvo, or Honda, I could identify the car in which I am sitting based on leg room, degree of angle required to achieve a comfortable "window lean", and volume setting necessary on the radio in order to hear the music in the back but to still be considered tolerable by the front seated parental units. 

In the world of car camping, my sisters and I are ninjas.  We can eat an entire meal on the tops of our knees without the loss of a single fry.  We can mentally convert mileage to actual drive time in seconds with an accuracy rate of 99.9%.  We can outfit ourselves in the perfect travel gear that will allow for even body temperature regulation and pedal comfort taking into account outside climate along with maternal vehicular thermastat control.  We can sleep for hours in a 2 x 2 space and know exactly how to cradle a pillow in the strap of a seatbelt to prevent nuchal rigidity and optimize spinal alignment.  And don't even think about challenging us to a game of "I'm Thinking of an Animal".....we WILL take you down.

Some of my favorite childhood memories were made while driving between the West Coast and the East Coast.  I'm sure it was hard for Mom and Dad, but that's not what I remember at all.  I remember singing along to Dad's Selected Favorites (a collection of music ranging from The Beatles, to Don Williams, to African music, to the best of Broadway, and more); I remember bidding farewell to one state as we crossed the border and greeted a new one ("Goodbye, Mississippi....Hello, Alabama"...and it never got old!); I remember Mad Libs, playing M.A.S.H., Stuckey's ice-cream, asking for the key to the outdoor gas station bathroom, walking "Cacti" (said poodle) at truck stops, and laughing, laughing, and more laughing!

Since marrying Sam and being introduced to the world of outdoor camping, I have found the need to develop a new set of skills, and BOY has it been an adventure!  I'm definitely a ninja-in-training when it comes to this kind of camping.....just wait till you hear some of these stories....

"We do not remember days...we remember moments"

The Faithful Climber

My kids are pretty fearless.  They like fast amusement park rides, jellyfish stings don't keep them out of the ocean, and there is no trace of acrophobia in their little bodies.  They eat sushi.

Last year, at ages 9 and 7, Evie and Kate rappelled down Copperhead Cliff at Fall Creek Falls State Park.  Our family had been indoor rock-climbing before, but that was their first "real life" experience.  They loved it!  In fact, as Kate was rappelling to the bottom of the cliff you could hear her yelling, "Weeeeeeeee" everytime she pushed herself away from the rocks.

We went rock-climbing again this past weekend and this time Briggs made his first ascent.  He did fantastic!

While my kids were climbing up and rappelling down the rock walls I found myself closely watching their belayers.  The job of the belayer is to pull the slack through a belay device as the climber goes up the wall, "catch" the climber if they fall, and control the descent of the climber back to the ground.  As the belayer, the safety of the climber is in your hands!  As the climber, you have to have complete faith in the ability of your belayer.

Faith.  I like it defined this way:  "having a confident belief and a confident hope, which motivate you to take action".  As Christians, our belief is in God our Father; our hope is for eternal life with Him in Heaven.  That belief and that hope, together, incite our obedience to His Will, which is revealed to us in the Bible.

I read an article once about a missionary named John Paton who translated the Bible for islanders of the South Sea in the latter part of the 19th century.  He had not been able to find a word in their vocabulary for the concept of believing, trusting, or having faith.  One day, while he was in his hut translating, a native came running in and sat down in a chair, utterly exhausted.  He said to Paton, "It is so good to rest my whole weight in this chair".  And there it was....John Paton had his word for faith:  "resting your whole weight on God".  I like this definition too.

I think of Evie, Kate, and Briggs literally "resting their whole weight" on me or Sam as we belayed for them while they climbed to the top of the rock walls.  This is a wonderful lesson for the Christian!  Is there anything more assuring than knowing that as we face challenges daily, as we struggle to meet our goals, as we climb and fall over obstacles in our lives; we can rest our whole weight on God, knowing that He is holding our rope, and He will keep us safe.

Today's the day

It's here.  The day I have anticipated and talked about for some time now.  The "once the kids are all in school" day.

I find my "To-Do List" is quite long on this most historic of days.  It's no wonder!  This list that has been accumulating over 10 years and it covers a myriad of topics... 

"My house is an absolute mess....but "once the kids are all in school", I'll have so much more time to clean."

"I wish I could find more time to write, and "once the kids are all in school" that's what I plan on doing all day long."

"I really need to exercise, and "once the kids are all in school", I'm going to be a running machine!"

It's a day that has been my fall back, my safety net, my recovery attempt, if you will, after making  statements that substantiated my less than perfect self.

So, now it's here.

It's 12:52.

I've started one load of laundry.

And I miss my kids.

"Caution! Wet Floor!

For parents, there is never a dull moment!  Daily life is a maze with the unexpected looming around every corner!  There is no telling what the next 24 hours will bring.....or even what a quick trip into another room of the house will bring.  It's always an adventure.

Yesterday, Sam walked into the Living Room and found the kids making an 80's exercise video.  Complete with lace gloves and valley girl cues ("Like, now, totally do some knee bends!"). 

Case in point.

What I like about unexpected parenting moments is that they usually disguise a greater application.  If you look deeper, you might not just see the event taking place in front of you (Sweatin' to the Eighties) but an important life lesson for both you and your children (Team Work!).

Recently, Kate did something that really made us laugh but it also gave me something to think about.  She could be heard rattling around in the kitchen.  After a few minutes had passed, she called out, "HOW DO YOU SPELL THE WORD 'CAUTION'?"  Sam spelled it out for her and nothing else was said.

Later, when Sam walked into the kitchen, he found a spill on the floor and next to the spill was this sign:

Instead of cleaning up the spill, she found a piece of paper and made this "warning sign"!  In the time it took for her to create this sign, she could have cleaned up the spill and been well on her way to other things.  Sam and I got so tickled by her means of "fixing" the problem.....it was certainly creative and had "Kate" written all over it!

That night, I thought about the sign (which has now found itself among our collection of paper keepsakes) and it reminded me of how Christians often treat sin in their lives.  We seem pretty good at acknowledging our mistakes or our shortcomings; we may even call attention to them around others, but when it comes to "cleaning up the spill", we sometimes don't make the effort.  We leave signs next to our behaviors that say "Caution!  Sin!", but then we leave the mess there, getting stickier and stickier, putting us (and others in our lives) at risk for slipping.

When we have a "sin spill", we can purify our lives again through repentance and prayer.  We can't just be sorry about our sin, we have to commit to making a complete change in our behavior, which may require getting rid of negative influences that can lead us to sin.  Then we can protect ourselves from future "spills" by waxing our hearts with Bible words, because knowing what God wants you to do makes the clean-up somewhat easier.  As Christians, we never stop "spilling" but we CAN learn to become really great custodians!

A backyard prayer for "Lola"

Some of my favorite moments with my children are the ones I have spent with them in prayer:  whether it's sitting down at the table before we eat, snuggled under the covers at bedtime, driving along the road in our car, or any one of a million random moments when the words of a 30-something year old mother just aren't enough. 

We had one of those moments on Sunday when our dog, Black Pearl, caught a rabbit in the backyard.  Although it escaped, my three animal-loving children were distraught over it's future.  My feeble words did little to comfort as I tried to suggest that the rabbit was probably back home being cared for by its rabbit family.  "But Lola was just a baby, Mom, how do you know she's going to be okay?"  (Somewhere in there, the rabbit found a name, taking this event to a whole new level of injustice)

Over the years I've learned that when I find myself struggling for words, the best thing to do is stop talking and let God take over.  I suggested to the kids that we pray for "Lola".  So there we were, in the yard, in a circle, heads bowed, asking for God to help a rabbit...and best of all, for Evie, Kate, and Briggs, this seemed like the most perfectly natural thing in the world to do (that should tell you something about how many times I find that my words are not enough).

I want my children to know that God wants to be a part of their everyday lives.  He wants to hear their voices and listen to their concerns, their fears, their joys: no matter how small they may seem.  What a gift we give our children when we help them discover the peace that comes through prayer and what a gift we give ourselves when we give attention to our children's heart felt conversations with God.  I never leave prayer time with my kids without my heart feeling encouraged and my faith being strengthened.

"Be anxious for nothing, but in everything by prayer and supplication let your requests be made known to God; and the peace of God which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and minds through Jesus Christ."  Philippians 4:6-7

There was no flash of light from heaven and the rabbit didn't suddenly dart across the yard in a miraculous display of restored health, but my kids (and I) were comforted after simply talking to God about what happened.  We don't know the fate of "Lola" but we did remind ourselves that God our Father is in control and that when He is involved, ultimately, (in the words of the Shunammite woman, 2 Kings 4:8-37)..."it will be well".

"Let's go offense, let's go" (clap, clap)

Watching your children grow is thrilling, sobering, rewarding, and heartbreaking all at the same.  As they begin to make their own decisions and form their own opinions, evolving into mini-versions of the "grown-ups" they will one day be, I find myself struggling with very different emotions.  Most of the time, I feel happy:  happy that they have chosen to share, happy that they were nice to the friendless child at school, happy that they ate their broccoli, happiest of all that my oldest made the decision to be baptized into Christ a few months ago.  Sadness is certainly the underdog.  If I could make a sweeping generalization, I would say that the sad times are most often characterized by what seems to be a methodical chipping away at their innocence.

The world bombards us with images of abuse, hatred, and evil.  I find myself having to field questions from my children that I don't want to answer:  "Why can't we talk to strangers?", "What does the devil look like?", and most recently, "Why would that man shoot all of those people?".  Looking into the eyes of my children as I feebly try to explain the concept of "sin", I can't help but imagine the devil getting a kick out of the whole exchange.  Quite honestly, he's really getting on my nerves.  The sadness is starting to melt away and what's left is a seething anger....not with my children, but rather with the evil forces that are incessantly striving to win them over.  This mom is not going to let that happen, or at least I'm ready to put up an ugly fight.

As Christians, we know I Peter 3:15, maybe not by memory but certainly by concept:  "But in your hearts honor Christ the Lord as holy, always being prepared to make a defense to anyone who asks you for a reason for the hope that is in you; yet do it with gentleness and respect."  Simply stated, always be ready to defend your faith.  This verse is served up quite often when we talk about our responsibility as Christians in the world, and rightfully so! 

I wonder if we could start adding a whopping spoonful of Jude 3, on the side?  Jude writes, "Beloved, although I was very eager to write to you about our common salvation, I found it necessary to write appealing to you to contend for the faith that was once for all delivered to the saints."  Here, Jude isn't calling on his readers to "defend" the faith....he is calling on them to "contend" for it!  Consider this definition of the word "contend":  to engage in a competion or campaign in order to win or achieve something.  Yes, we need to stand ready to defend our faith, but we also need to be actively competing for it!  We need to put some offensive strategy into this battle we're fighting against the devil. 

I'm determined to put a little Captain America into my battle plan!  He uses his shield to protect him from his enemies but he also handles it like a weapon and can take down the bad guys before they have a chance to attack.  We have a shield too.....a shield of faith (Ephesians 6:16), and I challenge us, as Christians, to use our shield in this battle of "good vs. evil", no holds barred.  Let's not be defenders only....let's be initiators, challengers, warriors for the cause of Christ!

(Thank you, Mom, for inspiring this post.....I'm so blessed to have a mother who is a both a defender and a contender!!  Love you!)   

A new direction

I love to write.  A little over a year ago I was given my first freelance writing assignment.  It marked the beginning of a journey for me and it's been a real eye-opener!  I fell in love with saying the words, "I'm a writer".  When asked what I do for a living, it felt good to say, "I'm a stay at home mom, a part time nurse...and a writer".  So much mystery and intrigue wrapped up in those three words...and a writer.

What I found, is that it's really hard.  I'm talking, "blurry eyes staring at the computer-headache from mental word searching-2:00 in the morning blank screen-nobody is ever going to like what I write"-kind of hard.  There have been countless, "Why am I doing this?" moments.  Then, there will come that one comment.  That reader's response to something I wrote that will fan the journalistic flame, if you will, and I find myself back at the computer typing:  "The baby bat screamed out in fright, 'turn on the dark I'm afraid of the light'.", over and over until the juices start flowing again.  (Thank you, reader and thank you, Shel Silverstein).

So, I've made some major changes on my blog.  What began as "Faithful Chandeliers" has evolved into "Flock of Boyds".  I hit a wall and the only way I can get myself moving again, is to turn around and go a different direction.  I love the thoughts and ideas behind "Faithful Chandeliers", but it comes down to this...I'm not writing!  I like to write about life: my kids, my husband, my faith, my job, or random moments that may have taught me something.  That's how I plan to use "Flock of Boyds".  It's a place for me to write about anything, no theme required!

If you were following "Faithful Chandeliers", I'd love for you to go with me down this road!  I hope you'll find something inspiring here too.  Thanks for reading!