Wednesday, January 22, 2020
Friday, June 7, 2019
Thursday, May 11, 2017
Confessions of a 5th Grade Storyteller
I finally lost my stage fright after a near-death experience.
For two weeks in December, exactly as long as my holiday break, I fought a nasty version of pneumonia that caused fluid to build up in my chest wall. I have three, 1-inch scars along the left side of my rib cage to prove it, and it still hurts to breathe sometimes.
After enduring some of the worst physical pain of my life, so many things don't matter to me anymore. Like having to be the smartest person in the room, and wearing makeup. meh.
In the last four months or so, I have spoken in public to small and large crowds at least six times. The butterflies and shaking and sweating that have always joined me on stage have vanished (except for the occasional hot flash that is usually related to too much caffeine or sugar).
Also, my storytelling gene has finally kicked in. I am officially the older, wiser woman in the room with interesting stories to share. Also, I am officially a grumpy mom according to my teen daughter's friends. Yay!
It seemed like just yesterday that it was 1980 and I was running around the neighborhood barefoot and pretending to be a Bugaloo and getting my friends to act out the story in my head. I was the cute girl with wings, of course. And I needed rescuing.
The storytelling — and the need for rescuing — continued for many years until one day I grew actual wings.
Now I am a fully realized storyteller. No excuses. I tell stories to help people connect, celebrate and inform. I help people who are not storytellers share their stories. And I share stories with my kids to help them sprout wings sooner.
Maybe it wasn't just the pneumonia that cleaned up my lungs and reconnected my heart to who I really am, but it was perfect timing for the next stage of life.
Here is a great article I found through the creative site 99U that offers tips on storytelling. Enjoy!
Sunday, November 20, 2016
The Beggar in Nice Clothing
While visiting a childhood friend a few weekends ago, I had a very confronting experience with street beggars. Now normally I'm pretty open to giving cash or food if I happen to have it. This time, however, I was out of my element...in New York.
I was trying to look at directions on my phone, which is a clear signal for "tourist." A woman approached me. I can only tell you she was a woman because her voice sounded female. But I can't tell you what she looked like. In fact, I never looked at her. I continued to search on my phone as though she didn't exist. My girlfriend told the woman, "sorry," to explain that we couldn't help. I continued to stare intently at my phone, mostly embarrassed.
Being in a different city, I could probably justify my lack of assistance, right? I could tell you that I didn't understand the rules of how to handle panhandlers. That's how I could justify walking by that same woman AGAIN, hearing her voice call to me and again not look in her direction, pretend she didn't exist...pretend that I didn't hear her.
That episode stuck in my mind as I enjoyed time with my friend. She and I have been friends since middle school. She is the kind of open, intelligent and curious friend that you want in your life forever. But I'm not really sure how we became friends. I always felt a little undeserving since I lived on the south side of our small Minnesota town, a neighborhood known as Shantytown, and she lived in a nicer neighborhood in a custom-built home. I was Catholic. She was Lutheran. She ate stuff like "baba ghanoush" and knew how to pronounce it.
As she and I strolled through The Met and looked at amazing art and artifacts, I listened to her comment about various artists like my own personal tour guide. She has lived in New York for at least 15 years. She has traveled extensively. When we see each other, which is maybe once a year, we can pick up right where we left off. Our shared childhood history and similar interests and even some personality traits make it easy to be around her.
At least, I thought I was comfortable.
Later that weekend, walking toward the subway, I heard another beggar cry out from his spot on a stair landing. This was the third time a human being called out to me. Before I could respond, my friend's husband walked right up to him and said, "How are you doing?" before handing him some cash. The man said, "God bless you."
"He's such a softy," my friend said of her husband in a voice full of affection.
In that moment, I realized my error.
Yes, I was in a different city, but I was mostly worried about myself. I was nervous about "blending in." I was nervous about what my friend would think if I started mingling with beggars on the street. I was nervous about wearing the right clothes and saying the right things and making sure I was good enough to be loved. All of that mental noise made me too busy to notice what I was really supposed to do...to love.
A beggar called out to me three times. I turned away because I was afraid to see my own poverty in her eyes. She deserved more than ignorance. She was my teacher. I was the beggar in nice clothing.
For all the education and culture and nice clothing we may use to hide, God finds our nature and shows it to us in quiet teaching. When He calls us, will we hear or pretend not to?
I was trying to look at directions on my phone, which is a clear signal for "tourist." A woman approached me. I can only tell you she was a woman because her voice sounded female. But I can't tell you what she looked like. In fact, I never looked at her. I continued to search on my phone as though she didn't exist. My girlfriend told the woman, "sorry," to explain that we couldn't help. I continued to stare intently at my phone, mostly embarrassed.
Being in a different city, I could probably justify my lack of assistance, right? I could tell you that I didn't understand the rules of how to handle panhandlers. That's how I could justify walking by that same woman AGAIN, hearing her voice call to me and again not look in her direction, pretend she didn't exist...pretend that I didn't hear her.
That episode stuck in my mind as I enjoyed time with my friend. She and I have been friends since middle school. She is the kind of open, intelligent and curious friend that you want in your life forever. But I'm not really sure how we became friends. I always felt a little undeserving since I lived on the south side of our small Minnesota town, a neighborhood known as Shantytown, and she lived in a nicer neighborhood in a custom-built home. I was Catholic. She was Lutheran. She ate stuff like "baba ghanoush" and knew how to pronounce it.
As she and I strolled through The Met and looked at amazing art and artifacts, I listened to her comment about various artists like my own personal tour guide. She has lived in New York for at least 15 years. She has traveled extensively. When we see each other, which is maybe once a year, we can pick up right where we left off. Our shared childhood history and similar interests and even some personality traits make it easy to be around her.
At least, I thought I was comfortable.
Later that weekend, walking toward the subway, I heard another beggar cry out from his spot on a stair landing. This was the third time a human being called out to me. Before I could respond, my friend's husband walked right up to him and said, "How are you doing?" before handing him some cash. The man said, "God bless you."
"He's such a softy," my friend said of her husband in a voice full of affection.
In that moment, I realized my error.
Yes, I was in a different city, but I was mostly worried about myself. I was nervous about "blending in." I was nervous about what my friend would think if I started mingling with beggars on the street. I was nervous about wearing the right clothes and saying the right things and making sure I was good enough to be loved. All of that mental noise made me too busy to notice what I was really supposed to do...to love.
A beggar called out to me three times. I turned away because I was afraid to see my own poverty in her eyes. She deserved more than ignorance. She was my teacher. I was the beggar in nice clothing.
For all the education and culture and nice clothing we may use to hide, God finds our nature and shows it to us in quiet teaching. When He calls us, will we hear or pretend not to?
Sunday, June 12, 2016
Birthday Contemplations
In less than 36 hours, my husband will be born. He came into the world on June 14, 1970, about 2 a.m., the last of four children for Donna Ruth Fredrickson Nelson. About 36 hours prior to that, in the same hospital in Litchfield, Minnesota, a girl baby was born — the first of four children. That was me.
Andrew Eric Nelson and Christine Marie Hierlmaier crossed paths in a hospital nursery, in kindergarten, in a middle school choir room, in track and in marching band before they ever considered each other beyond classmates. There was no love at first sight. There was mainly the chaos of two very determined, stubborn and emotionally challenged teens trying to balance identity with someone else’s existence.
After several stops and starts along the way, these kids decided that a life together was better than one lived apart. They simply had no idea what they were in for or what they might put each other through over the next 22 years. Many situations, attitudes and choices threatened to separate them. Just the challenges of child-rearing, moving and money were formidable threats. Each of us wanted our way. Each of us brought baggage from our childhoods. Each of us was trying to do the best we knew how.
And when we finally began to see each other as not perfect for each other, not perfect really for anyone, that’s when it clicked. That is when the turning away began turning toward. That is when pride and shame and greed and ego transformed to something softer inside. That softer something left me today with only a big blue sky and a pathway where up ahead my family rode together.
I don’t know how many more birthdays I will get to enjoy. But I do know that today was worth all the chaos. Today my soul reached back to 2 a.m. on June 14, 1970, and said, “Thank you for this gift.”
Wednesday, April 13, 2016
Year of the Fire Monkey
The Chinese calendar dubs 2016 the year of the fire monkey. If that means that life has been full of opportunity and non-stop action, then it doesn't disappoint.
At the same time, I've noticed a lot of destructive energy in the last few months. Deaths, illnesses and close calls have everybody a bit unnerved about the future.
The news is full of tenuous civil, economic and political events. We can listen to the radio and wonder if the end really is near.
So what if it is? Life is about what each of us makes of every moment. I'm not being trite. Even if we sit around complaining, blaming and worrying, time will move forward regardless.
On my long commute to work the other day, I decided to turn off the radio and contemplate my blessings, review my faults, and ask God to be with my loved ones and anyone else I knew who needed a boost. It's interesting when we surrender the worry and focus on what's good right now, that we are stronger to handle what's next.
At the same time, I've noticed a lot of destructive energy in the last few months. Deaths, illnesses and close calls have everybody a bit unnerved about the future.
The news is full of tenuous civil, economic and political events. We can listen to the radio and wonder if the end really is near.
So what if it is? Life is about what each of us makes of every moment. I'm not being trite. Even if we sit around complaining, blaming and worrying, time will move forward regardless.
On my long commute to work the other day, I decided to turn off the radio and contemplate my blessings, review my faults, and ask God to be with my loved ones and anyone else I knew who needed a boost. It's interesting when we surrender the worry and focus on what's good right now, that we are stronger to handle what's next.
Sunday, February 8, 2015
Letting Go is Bigger Than Farts
You've probably heard the joke that the song, "Let it Go" in the crazy-popular movie, Frozen, is secretly about farts. My kids are just old enough to enjoy that movie and also see the humor in its popularity. That's the fun part about them getting older.
The not-so-fun part: I find it more difficult to know when to take control of a situation and when to provide guidance.
When they were little, I had to do everything to keep them alive. I bathed and dressed them, fed them, took them to the doctor, tucked them in and read to them. Gradually, I had to let them fend for themselves.
Now they're learning to do laundry, make a meal for the family, clean bathrooms, care for pets and manage money. They are balancing those responsibilities with being students and figuring out what they believe is good for them and what isn't.
Of course, their parents' beliefs will rub off on them. How we speak about other people, how we handle frustration, how we manage money and whether or not we practice religion and politics all have their impact. "Do what I say and not what I do." That's absurd.
I've become the guide and the model, and it's painful. One night, my daughter said she didn't need me to tuck her in anymore. A few weeks later, she said I was too critical. Sometimes I swear and throw tantrums and gossip and complain. I do things I have to apologize for later, and that, too, is being a guide.
But when my kids succeed, I hope they'll be excited to tell me about it. If and when they fall down, I hope they'll call me for help. That's the big thing about letting go. You do everything you possibly can to prepare them, but kids eventually have to take control. You're left behind to watch...and pray.
Parenting is forever, but it's different at each stage. We fuss and worry and teach and discipline, hoping all the while we're doing the right things to send another human being into the world who won't mess it up too much — someone who ultimately makes it better.
I'm not ready to let go completely. In parenting years, it's a narrow window between teaching them to walk and teaching them to drive. (Don't let me think about my children driving yet. I'll keep both hands on that wheel for now, thanks.)
Control and letting go, letting go and control. It's a good thing I have a sense of humor.
The not-so-fun part: I find it more difficult to know when to take control of a situation and when to provide guidance.
When they were little, I had to do everything to keep them alive. I bathed and dressed them, fed them, took them to the doctor, tucked them in and read to them. Gradually, I had to let them fend for themselves.
Now they're learning to do laundry, make a meal for the family, clean bathrooms, care for pets and manage money. They are balancing those responsibilities with being students and figuring out what they believe is good for them and what isn't.
Of course, their parents' beliefs will rub off on them. How we speak about other people, how we handle frustration, how we manage money and whether or not we practice religion and politics all have their impact. "Do what I say and not what I do." That's absurd.
I've become the guide and the model, and it's painful. One night, my daughter said she didn't need me to tuck her in anymore. A few weeks later, she said I was too critical. Sometimes I swear and throw tantrums and gossip and complain. I do things I have to apologize for later, and that, too, is being a guide.
But when my kids succeed, I hope they'll be excited to tell me about it. If and when they fall down, I hope they'll call me for help. That's the big thing about letting go. You do everything you possibly can to prepare them, but kids eventually have to take control. You're left behind to watch...and pray.
Parenting is forever, but it's different at each stage. We fuss and worry and teach and discipline, hoping all the while we're doing the right things to send another human being into the world who won't mess it up too much — someone who ultimately makes it better.
I'm not ready to let go completely. In parenting years, it's a narrow window between teaching them to walk and teaching them to drive. (Don't let me think about my children driving yet. I'll keep both hands on that wheel for now, thanks.)
Control and letting go, letting go and control. It's a good thing I have a sense of humor.
Wednesday, August 27, 2014
Teachable Moments
When things go wrong in your life, do you try to hide them, brave them on your own, or make excuses for them? OR, do you see them as one more piece of your human journey that can be used to learn, gain support and to teach your children?
Whether it's an incident of teen drinking, a car crash on the news, or a challenging situation at work, I like to take a few moments to discuss it with my kids. I tell them the story, explain what I think about it, and then give them some ideas about proper responses to those situations.
I know they will still make mistakes, but I hope that some of the things I say will stick with them when they are faced with a choice. I'm grateful that we have choices in this country, but sometimes it makes parenting very challenging!! Every chance I get, I hope to provide some context and wisdom, from how to wash a load of clothes to how to handle sexual advances.
As children get older, we can't protect them from every heartbreak or wrong turn. But at least by talking regularly, we leave our door open to offer help when they ask. Boy oh boy, I hope they ask!!
By the way, if you want several ideas to a dilemma you are facing, I recommend a new book hot off the press. I was one of 35 contributors, and I must say it's a handy go-to resource when you're challenged with young children. Check it out! And blessings on your family!
Whether it's an incident of teen drinking, a car crash on the news, or a challenging situation at work, I like to take a few moments to discuss it with my kids. I tell them the story, explain what I think about it, and then give them some ideas about proper responses to those situations.
I know they will still make mistakes, but I hope that some of the things I say will stick with them when they are faced with a choice. I'm grateful that we have choices in this country, but sometimes it makes parenting very challenging!! Every chance I get, I hope to provide some context and wisdom, from how to wash a load of clothes to how to handle sexual advances.
As children get older, we can't protect them from every heartbreak or wrong turn. But at least by talking regularly, we leave our door open to offer help when they ask. Boy oh boy, I hope they ask!!
By the way, if you want several ideas to a dilemma you are facing, I recommend a new book hot off the press. I was one of 35 contributors, and I must say it's a handy go-to resource when you're challenged with young children. Check it out! And blessings on your family!
Wednesday, June 4, 2014
Love at First Sight
I hear these words from my daughter and my heart stops for a beat. Something stirs from years ago when she was placed in my arms and I felt that same love at first sight.
She is only 10. Her first love is a kitten. She is already acting like a joyful new mom.
The instinct to love and protect is awesome. I feel it so intensely for my children that when they get the slightest hurt my whole body surges with electricity ready to fight off the danger for them. I know that if anyone or anything approached my daughters as a threat, I would take them down with super strength, my teeth clenched and fire in my brain. It’s just instinct.
Other relationships have been harder.
Even with my mother, the earliest intimate relationship of my life, there was a time when talking to her and seeing her was more stressful than joyful. She was my world for so many years. I sought her approval, her attention, her time. But in order to figure out who I was, we had to go our separate ways for a while. It took time to build an adult relationship, yet still appreciate the motherly nurturing of years past.
Then there is my father. Artistic. Quiet. Helpful in the way dads are with cars or moving to a new apartment. We picked our way through the messyness of adulthood back to each other. Our common ground is work, his grandchildren, travel and gardening. He buys a certain flowering plant every year in memory of his own mother. She died too soon and we both adored her, another thing in common.
I’ve had to learn over the years how to be a better daughter, sister, wife and friend. Mothering has come the easiest, maybe because the girls are literally part of me. I still struggle with the other relationships, sometimes opening my mouth like eldest kids often do — when no one asked my opinion. I get insecure, impatient, impractical, impossible. Like below-zero temps in February, I’m sometimes downright awful. Full of darkness.
Former parish minister and author Barbara Brown Taylor says, “I need darkness as much as I need light. I have learned things in the dark that I could never have learned in the light, things that have saved my life over and over again.”
I’m not sure I can embrace the darkness as just another part of me yet. I’ll have to read more of her book. Good mothers and wives and sisters and friends don’t act like jerks. They don’t act selfish and fatigued and triggered. They are supposed to be patient and focused on the comfort of others. They are supposed to wake up grateful for another chance to serve under God’s bright blue sky.
Then again, is that what I should demand of my daughters? That they’ll never fail? They will. Their lives will be messy. They will suffer for love. Animals and people will leave them one way or another. They will have to find their way back from the abyss, from whatever the world dishes out.
Darkness. Light. Pain. Love. Seeing my daughter with the little gray bundle she calls Toby, I ache from that smile on her face. It is love at first sight. Her love. Her life.
I only hope that when the darkness comes, she’ll know that her parents and sister and friends will help her figure it out…creating a new, stronger relationship from the hardships. Maybe that’s the true test of love, what we do after first sight.
Friday, February 7, 2014
The Flu Shot and Other Truths I Hate to Admit
I have been sick for a month. And I'm sick of it.
A cold turned into the flu turned into a sinus infection that makes my teeth hurt.
This is what I get for believing the flu shot is a government conspiracy to collect copious amounts of human data.
The problem is, I rarely get sick, and this illness snobbery has made me feel quite superior...until now.
Can you imagine if I got more than the flu? I am already shuffling around in my slippers, exhaling in loud sighs, insisting on naps and absolute quiet, leaving dirty dishes in the sink and watching too much reality television on Bravo (what's up with that Millionaire Matchmaker anyway?). I am grouchier than a traffic cop in February...or any Minnesotan right now.
I feel like the ladies in the Prego commercials who realize they've been buying the wrong pasta sauce all along. ("If I can get sick for a month, what other questionable choices have I made?")
Ooh, my husband is going to love this...
Just off the top of my head:
I was wrong about pelicans in Minnesota. They do exist!
I was wrong to love Robert Downey Jr. (Narcissist...although great actor...ok I love him again.)
I did not believe that a season of marching band would kick my butt (consider it kicked).
I was wrong to buy Cheese Nips. They are NOT the same as Cheez-Its.
I was wrong to think that aging is graceful. I can't find my waist because my boobs are hiding it now.
This is a pretty short list. I guess it's because I'm right most of the time.
Well, the real truth is I can't write about everything I am wrong about in such a public forum. We'll leave that stuff for my tell-all memoir when everyone I care about is dead...if the flu (or the government conspiracies) don't kill me first.
Heavy...loud...sigh. I need a nap.
Matthew 6:34 "So do not worry about tomorrow; for tomorrow will care for itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own."
A cold turned into the flu turned into a sinus infection that makes my teeth hurt.
This is what I get for believing the flu shot is a government conspiracy to collect copious amounts of human data.
The problem is, I rarely get sick, and this illness snobbery has made me feel quite superior...until now.
Can you imagine if I got more than the flu? I am already shuffling around in my slippers, exhaling in loud sighs, insisting on naps and absolute quiet, leaving dirty dishes in the sink and watching too much reality television on Bravo (what's up with that Millionaire Matchmaker anyway?). I am grouchier than a traffic cop in February...or any Minnesotan right now.
I feel like the ladies in the Prego commercials who realize they've been buying the wrong pasta sauce all along. ("If I can get sick for a month, what other questionable choices have I made?")
Ooh, my husband is going to love this...
Just off the top of my head:
I was wrong about pelicans in Minnesota. They do exist!
I was wrong to love Robert Downey Jr. (Narcissist...although great actor...ok I love him again.)
I did not believe that a season of marching band would kick my butt (consider it kicked).
I was wrong to buy Cheese Nips. They are NOT the same as Cheez-Its.
I was wrong to think that aging is graceful. I can't find my waist because my boobs are hiding it now.
This is a pretty short list. I guess it's because I'm right most of the time.
Well, the real truth is I can't write about everything I am wrong about in such a public forum. We'll leave that stuff for my tell-all memoir when everyone I care about is dead...if the flu (or the government conspiracies) don't kill me first.
Heavy...loud...sigh. I need a nap.
Matthew 6:34 "So do not worry about tomorrow; for tomorrow will care for itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own."
Monday, January 13, 2014
A New Serenity
In our home, we eat a lot of meals at the breakfast bar because it’s easy to serve up the plates and get to it. The kids sit on stools on one side and I’ll stand in the kitchen, ready to grab salt and pepper or fill their water glasses. But one recent Sunday night I performed this ritual like always and something strange happened. My daughter picked up her plate and started leaving the kitchen.
“Oh!” I said. “Do you want to sit at the table tonight?”
She smiled and nodded.
We all sat at the kitchen table together and it reminded me of my theme for 2014: A New Serenity.
Here are a few examples of what “a new serenity” means to me. I hope it can help you dream up reasons for keeping calm and carrying on this year.
A New Serenity means:
• I can walk a few paces around my breakfast bar to the table, sit on my rear and let my growing children teach me something new, like making eye contact.
• On Friday afternoons, I can clock out of work and acknowledge all I accomplished since Monday. Dang, I’m good!
• Singing and playing an instrument, or public speaking, is fun instead of scary. Otherwise, why am I doing this???
• Sleep is an important to-do item that I like to accomplish every day.
• Laughing, especially at myself, reduces the seven visible signs of aging.
• Big, messy dogs make excellent exercise partners.
• I trust that the world can spin uncontrollably without me.
A new serenity doesn’t come from a bestselling book, a kale diet or shoes (and I like shoes). It comes from mind and heart in harmony with ordinary time. Not perfect. Not splashy. Just exciting the atoms in my monkey brain. But I have to recognize the beauty like a hummingbird…dipping into flowers one minute, zipping over my roof the next.
My point is, don’t miss it when it’s smacking your face. Smile and keep it in that mind pocket reserved for your best-ever kiss and the carnival pony ride when you were 4.
I’m not dumb. A new serenity doesn’t mean I’ll never experience pain. In fact, it’s the knowledge of that pain – past, present and what’s to come – that makes serenity so powerful. If I never get this zen moment again, why spend it worrying that I left the stove on?
Maybe all this talk of serenity is just a carbohydrate hangover. Then again, it’s the knowledge that even as I spent quiet time with family and friends during Christmas, there were others not so fortunate who were restless, angry, lonely or in grief. I’ve been there too, and moving through those painful times gives me a huge appreciation for what I’ve lost, let go and gained.
We can’t keep serenity like our favorite shoes. That’s why it’s so important. It's like no matter how much we’ve messed up, beat up, misstepped, mistaken and misbehaved, we are dearly loved to our split ends and unpolished toes. With nothing to lose and nothing to gain, life is a series of whispers to be you in every time.
Sit. Eat. Bliss.
To your serenity this year, friends.
Romans 12
“Oh!” I said. “Do you want to sit at the table tonight?”
She smiled and nodded.
We all sat at the kitchen table together and it reminded me of my theme for 2014: A New Serenity.
Here are a few examples of what “a new serenity” means to me. I hope it can help you dream up reasons for keeping calm and carrying on this year.
A New Serenity means:
• I can walk a few paces around my breakfast bar to the table, sit on my rear and let my growing children teach me something new, like making eye contact.
• On Friday afternoons, I can clock out of work and acknowledge all I accomplished since Monday. Dang, I’m good!
• Singing and playing an instrument, or public speaking, is fun instead of scary. Otherwise, why am I doing this???
• Sleep is an important to-do item that I like to accomplish every day.
• Laughing, especially at myself, reduces the seven visible signs of aging.
• Big, messy dogs make excellent exercise partners.
• I trust that the world can spin uncontrollably without me.
A new serenity doesn’t come from a bestselling book, a kale diet or shoes (and I like shoes). It comes from mind and heart in harmony with ordinary time. Not perfect. Not splashy. Just exciting the atoms in my monkey brain. But I have to recognize the beauty like a hummingbird…dipping into flowers one minute, zipping over my roof the next.
My point is, don’t miss it when it’s smacking your face. Smile and keep it in that mind pocket reserved for your best-ever kiss and the carnival pony ride when you were 4.
I’m not dumb. A new serenity doesn’t mean I’ll never experience pain. In fact, it’s the knowledge of that pain – past, present and what’s to come – that makes serenity so powerful. If I never get this zen moment again, why spend it worrying that I left the stove on?
Maybe all this talk of serenity is just a carbohydrate hangover. Then again, it’s the knowledge that even as I spent quiet time with family and friends during Christmas, there were others not so fortunate who were restless, angry, lonely or in grief. I’ve been there too, and moving through those painful times gives me a huge appreciation for what I’ve lost, let go and gained.
We can’t keep serenity like our favorite shoes. That’s why it’s so important. It's like no matter how much we’ve messed up, beat up, misstepped, mistaken and misbehaved, we are dearly loved to our split ends and unpolished toes. With nothing to lose and nothing to gain, life is a series of whispers to be you in every time.
Sit. Eat. Bliss.
To your serenity this year, friends.
Romans 12
Thursday, November 7, 2013
I Want To See How This Show Ends!
When he was a kid, my husband used to pretend he was in a television show. He narrated everything he did like he was “filmed before a live studio audience.”
He doesn’t play that game anymore, but it made me think about life in a smaller community and how it can sometimes feel like being on stage. I had that feeling recently when entering the high school gym for conferences. The gym was lined with teachers at tables and parents and kids walking around. In fact, it resembled one of my common nightmares of being in a crowd and feeling overwhelmed.
Quickly though, I noticed several friendly faces and started to chat with people. My daughter held our place in line when I got sidetracked in conversation, signaling me to talk to more of her teachers. Before I knew it we’d been there for almost two hours!
Later, a familiar sense of blessing filled me to live in a community where my kids have extra moms and dads looking out for them, where giving is just something you do and where the value of everyone knowing your business means that you get extra prayers and help when it counts.
I recently read a great book called “Wisdom Distilled From the Daily,” by Joan Chittister, a Benedictine nun who provides a translation for living the Rule of St. Benedict outside the walls of a monastery. Chittister explains that personal and spiritual growth never happen in isolation. They develop and expand through the relationships, tensions and challenges of living in community. As we live with others who are different and similar to us, we see ourselves in new ways — sometimes wonderful and sometimes disturbing ways. But this awareness only happens if we are brave enough to persist in a community and gain wisdom from our experiences. People who move from place to place every few years never gain the richness of what Chittister calls “stability.”
I moved to Milaca in 2003, making this my family’s 10th year of living in community. As an adult, I’ve never lived somewhere long enough to experience roots curling into well-trod soil or clouds changing outfits across seasons. Here my children have grown from babies to adolescents. My garden has grown from four raised beds to ten. My pet count has grown from one to four. My marriage has grown from independence to teamwork. My spirit has grown in this soil and under these clouds.
Here is the best part about community. We get the privilege of experiencing relationships in which life isn’t always peaceful or friendly or joyful, but they move us to reach beyond our comfort zones, to listen and confess, to give of ourselves and hope in the best for everyone. Community is the sum of all its parts, not just the ones we like or prefer. If we’re growing with open hearts and minds, we will experience joy and sorrow, blessing and disappointment, hope and doubt. This is the common humanity of parenting, marriage, grandparenting, friendship, work, worship, volunteering and anything worth a broken heart. If our hearts break sometimes, it’s only because we care. The show goes on.
In community we have the space — the grace — to fail and heal. But we have to stand still long enough — sometimes years — to see things come full circle. Mobility, instant gratification and self may be natural desires, but community occurs through hand-knit sweaters and book reports, a plowed and seeded field, a bandshell restoration, building an entire house or making a five-course meal. We sweat and doubt and see progress slowly, but the result is beautiful.
If we can teach our kids anything about living in community, we should teach them to slow down, work with their hands in soil and paint, be gentle to friends and family when they fall, and wake up early to watch the earth reflected in new light. It’s not instant gratification and rarely fame before a live studio audience, but it’s worth tuning in.
Phil 4:8-9 "Finally, brothers, whatever is true, whatever is honorable, whatever is just, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is commendable, if there is any excellence, if there is anything worthy of praise, think about these things...practice these things, and the God of peace will be with you."
Friday, September 13, 2013
Create Good From Bad
I always thought I was an optimist, a glass-half-full kind of gal. I was Tigger, never Eeyore. I was Belle, never the Beast.
It turns out that my optimism was partly a learned behavior since adolescence to handle depression. Instead of responding to bad things in healthy ways, I would pretend they were better than they were…or pretend they didn’t exist at all. I would look for ways to fix things, smooth the rough road, build a bridge. The very idea that I couldn’t make things better all by myself just wasn’t acceptable.
I could outrun, outwork or outsmart anyone, including myself.
I mean really, who wants to accept a depressed personality? It’s not fun. It’s not popular. It’s not a banner to wave at a parade and say, “Hey, look! I can’t handle life!”
In fact, I was still posing as an optimist until last Christmas when my depression got bad enough that I thought, “No, you really can’t handle life and it’s not fun.”
By finally accepting my depression, I’ve moved into a healthier space of treatment with bright light therapy, exercise, good food and relaxation. In the process, I’ve learned that looking for the good in bad can be used in healthy ways even as I acknowledge the bad.
Bonus: It’s also a great teaching tool for kids.
Bad things happen, either through our own choices or through circumstances. When bad things happen through circumstance, we can look for opportunities to be supportive and helpful. We can join others to make improvements. We can express gratitude for the good things. In just the last few months, bad circumstances have resulted in good leadership opportunities for kids I coach as well as the opportunity to introduce myself to neighbors I didn’t know before.
When bad things happen through our choices, owning up to them is the first step to creating good from bad. We learn to change our behaviors, work on better coping tools, improve our relationships and increase our compassion.
Kids will experience and make mistakes. We need to help them either make good or do good after the bad.
It’s not easy, which is why kids need guidance. We’re often taught to hide flaws and deny or soften wrongdoing in the interests of keeping up appearances and avoiding pain. We also sometimes yell at the messenger who points out the bad. If instead we can acknowledge the bad and teach kids how to learn and lead through it, they’ll have more strength to deal with bad things than if we just punish them, tell them it’s not so bad or sweep their mistakes under the rug.
There is an ironic strength that comes from admitting wrongs and flaws and even from experiencing humiliation and shame from our mistakes. After days, months or years of loss and learning and recovering, the honest life is sweeter than denial. It’s sweeter than pretend optimism. It’s real.
In that space and freedom, we can tell kids they will survive their mistakes and the bad in the world. They can find ways to make good and do good. We can show them how to do it…because we do it.
"At present you may be temporarily harassed by all kinds of trials. This is no accident. It happens to prove your faith which is infinitely more valuable than gold." 1 Peter 1:6-7
“For his anger lasts only a moment, but his favor lasts a lifetime; weeping may stay for the night, but rejoicing comes in the morning.” Psalm 30:5
“Do you not know that in a race all the runners run, but only one receives the prize? So run that you may obtain it. Every athlete exercises self-control in all things. They do it to receive a perishable wreath, but we an imperishable. So I do not run aimlessly; I do not box as one beating the air. But I discipline my body and keep it under control, lest after preaching to others I myself should be disqualified.”
1 Corinthians 9:24-27
It turns out that my optimism was partly a learned behavior since adolescence to handle depression. Instead of responding to bad things in healthy ways, I would pretend they were better than they were…or pretend they didn’t exist at all. I would look for ways to fix things, smooth the rough road, build a bridge. The very idea that I couldn’t make things better all by myself just wasn’t acceptable.
I could outrun, outwork or outsmart anyone, including myself.
I mean really, who wants to accept a depressed personality? It’s not fun. It’s not popular. It’s not a banner to wave at a parade and say, “Hey, look! I can’t handle life!”
In fact, I was still posing as an optimist until last Christmas when my depression got bad enough that I thought, “No, you really can’t handle life and it’s not fun.”
By finally accepting my depression, I’ve moved into a healthier space of treatment with bright light therapy, exercise, good food and relaxation. In the process, I’ve learned that looking for the good in bad can be used in healthy ways even as I acknowledge the bad.
Bonus: It’s also a great teaching tool for kids.
Bad things happen, either through our own choices or through circumstances. When bad things happen through circumstance, we can look for opportunities to be supportive and helpful. We can join others to make improvements. We can express gratitude for the good things. In just the last few months, bad circumstances have resulted in good leadership opportunities for kids I coach as well as the opportunity to introduce myself to neighbors I didn’t know before.
When bad things happen through our choices, owning up to them is the first step to creating good from bad. We learn to change our behaviors, work on better coping tools, improve our relationships and increase our compassion.
Kids will experience and make mistakes. We need to help them either make good or do good after the bad.
It’s not easy, which is why kids need guidance. We’re often taught to hide flaws and deny or soften wrongdoing in the interests of keeping up appearances and avoiding pain. We also sometimes yell at the messenger who points out the bad. If instead we can acknowledge the bad and teach kids how to learn and lead through it, they’ll have more strength to deal with bad things than if we just punish them, tell them it’s not so bad or sweep their mistakes under the rug.
There is an ironic strength that comes from admitting wrongs and flaws and even from experiencing humiliation and shame from our mistakes. After days, months or years of loss and learning and recovering, the honest life is sweeter than denial. It’s sweeter than pretend optimism. It’s real.
In that space and freedom, we can tell kids they will survive their mistakes and the bad in the world. They can find ways to make good and do good. We can show them how to do it…because we do it.
"At present you may be temporarily harassed by all kinds of trials. This is no accident. It happens to prove your faith which is infinitely more valuable than gold." 1 Peter 1:6-7
“For his anger lasts only a moment, but his favor lasts a lifetime; weeping may stay for the night, but rejoicing comes in the morning.” Psalm 30:5
“Do you not know that in a race all the runners run, but only one receives the prize? So run that you may obtain it. Every athlete exercises self-control in all things. They do it to receive a perishable wreath, but we an imperishable. So I do not run aimlessly; I do not box as one beating the air. But I discipline my body and keep it under control, lest after preaching to others I myself should be disqualified.”
1 Corinthians 9:24-27
Friday, June 14, 2013
My Yoke is Easy.
In the rush of finishing another school year, coaching, working full-time and raising two kids, I would describe the last few months as brutal. Anyone from Minnesota also knows that we had one of the longest winters on record with not one, but two snowstorms in May.
It was enough to drive a person a little crazy, a lot depressed and mega-anxious.
I wanted to complain, I really did. Why should one person have to pack so much into one day and call it a life? It seemed inhumane and ridiculous. I thought about what I could possibly downsize, give up, delay or delegate...and the results weren't enough to bring any sense of relief.
As I sat at my computer to seek sympathy on Facebook (yep) a voice in my head suddenly spoke up.
"Oh, you got it so tough."
Actually, the voice belonged to my father-in-law. It was something he told my husband one early morning decades ago during his summer job in bridge construction. My husband, then in his early 20s, had complained about being tired. "Oh, you got it so tough," said Doug, a chain-smoking, hard-driving bridge superintendent who traveled thousands of miles before the crack of dawn to wherever the jobs took him. See, Doug knew that Andy was on his way to better things, but if he didn't understand his blessings then, he wouldn't later when life was different.
To this day, Andy and I still recite that phrase, "Oh, you got it so tough," when either of us starts to complain. Doug passed away almost a year ago, but this simple phrase keeps his spirit present as we walk through the middle of our lives.
After hearing Doug's words in my head yet one more time, I erased what I'd typed online before posting. Instead, I thought about all the ways I was blessed and supported. First of all, a toughened marriage brings multiple blessings. Where I fall down, Andy picks up the pieces and runs ahead. Then I catch up and lighten his burdens. As we work together, we learn to appreciate the other's strengths and allow a little more pride, a little more pain, to slip away...inviting the other person closer.
As we work together, our kids learn how to deal with stress, time management and relationships. They do better in school, they make friends, they get involved in activities that build their toughness for life without us some day.
When our family and home are healthy and managed, then we find that we have the patience, time and energy to devote not only to better performance at work, but also to friends and our community. We are present, engaged, and even enjoying the extra hours and commitment.
Suddenly, the burden isn't a burden at all. It's a delight to be needed. It's an honor to contribute. It's a joy to HAVE this life with all its surprises, struggles and triumphs. Whether it's in our homes or in various teams working toward a common goal, we ARE together.
And together, it's really not so tough.
Matthew 11:28-30
"Come to me, all you that labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest. 29Take my yoke on you, and learn of me; for I am meek and lowly in heart: and you shall find rest to your souls. 30For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light."
It was enough to drive a person a little crazy, a lot depressed and mega-anxious.
I wanted to complain, I really did. Why should one person have to pack so much into one day and call it a life? It seemed inhumane and ridiculous. I thought about what I could possibly downsize, give up, delay or delegate...and the results weren't enough to bring any sense of relief.
As I sat at my computer to seek sympathy on Facebook (yep) a voice in my head suddenly spoke up.
"Oh, you got it so tough."
Actually, the voice belonged to my father-in-law. It was something he told my husband one early morning decades ago during his summer job in bridge construction. My husband, then in his early 20s, had complained about being tired. "Oh, you got it so tough," said Doug, a chain-smoking, hard-driving bridge superintendent who traveled thousands of miles before the crack of dawn to wherever the jobs took him. See, Doug knew that Andy was on his way to better things, but if he didn't understand his blessings then, he wouldn't later when life was different.
To this day, Andy and I still recite that phrase, "Oh, you got it so tough," when either of us starts to complain. Doug passed away almost a year ago, but this simple phrase keeps his spirit present as we walk through the middle of our lives.
After hearing Doug's words in my head yet one more time, I erased what I'd typed online before posting. Instead, I thought about all the ways I was blessed and supported. First of all, a toughened marriage brings multiple blessings. Where I fall down, Andy picks up the pieces and runs ahead. Then I catch up and lighten his burdens. As we work together, we learn to appreciate the other's strengths and allow a little more pride, a little more pain, to slip away...inviting the other person closer.
As we work together, our kids learn how to deal with stress, time management and relationships. They do better in school, they make friends, they get involved in activities that build their toughness for life without us some day.
When our family and home are healthy and managed, then we find that we have the patience, time and energy to devote not only to better performance at work, but also to friends and our community. We are present, engaged, and even enjoying the extra hours and commitment.
Suddenly, the burden isn't a burden at all. It's a delight to be needed. It's an honor to contribute. It's a joy to HAVE this life with all its surprises, struggles and triumphs. Whether it's in our homes or in various teams working toward a common goal, we ARE together.
And together, it's really not so tough.
Matthew 11:28-30
"Come to me, all you that labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest. 29Take my yoke on you, and learn of me; for I am meek and lowly in heart: and you shall find rest to your souls. 30For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light."
Monday, April 22, 2013
Not Sure What to Do? Ask a Child!
I've been getting smarter about asking for guidance instead of worrying. I've done this through prayer, but more importantly I've started asking my children for ideas. They are old enough now to share their perspective on simple conflicts and worries...and I am amazed at their insight.
We usually think that our job as parents is to guide children toward good decision making and to help them avoid trouble. But communication is a two-way street. Children feel good about sharing advice and ideas that help their family live better. It's a team effort.
Here are a few examples of how to ask your children for advice or ideas to create better relationships.
A few months ago, I had a conflict with a friend and wasn't sure what to do. I felt hurt by circumstances and was disappointed in her lack of communication. One night, I told my daughter about the basics of the situation and asked what she thought I should do. Her answer: "Well, maybe if you talk to her about how you feel, you can work it out."
I knew in my heart that she was right, but my pride had stopped me from reaching out in a meaningful way. Soon after, I communicated with my friend. We have found a way to mend fences and feel like friends again.
This past weekend, I was feeling rather low due to the weather and tragedies in the news. I shared a bit of this with my older daughter and asked her what I should do. Her succinct answer: "You need to play more."
I realized that the long hours at my job, housework and responsibilities to others had left little time for play. So on Sunday I took out my paints and a blank canvas and played for a couple hours. My daughter was spot on. Creating a piece of art with no censorship and for no purpose really lifted my mood.
What I love about asking children for ideas is that their minds and worlds aren't cluttered with assumptions or past experiences that prevent them from brainstorming openly and honestly. They see through our excuses and fake wisdom to a clear and present truth: treat others kindly and be gentle with yourself.
We'd like to think that life isn't that simple, but these past sickening months of political wrangling around nuclear arms, guns, mental health, who should get married, and environmental extremes makes me wonder if it isn't just that simple. If we are healthy and if we value other people, how can we go wrong? Keep choices simple in your own life to endure the complexity of the rest of the world.
I don't recommend asking your children about every issue in your life. That's not their job, but including them in simple discussions about right and wrong choices can support open communication. After all, if you respect them enough to take their advice, they just might trust and respect you enough to get help with their problems later on.
One more idea: On a Sunday afternoon, my family sat down at the table to discuss our values. We came up with six values based on ideas from everyone. I was inspired by my children's ideas about what we value as a family. Our list of values — posted on the refrigerator — has helped us improve our behavior and communication.
Happy Earth Day. Life is good.
Matthew 18:3
Wednesday, September 26, 2012
Can you be angry and still show love?
Monday, June 11, 2012
carpe diem
Life arrived today.
I walked out to my garden to see the growth and to check on three killdeer eggs nestled near the beans. I was surprised to see one speckled egg heaving from the chick now partially visible inside it. A second egg had a tiny hole pecked through it and the chick inside that one moved the egg with its machine-gun breathing. The third egg still looked like a speckled rock, still and silent.
I sat quietly watching the eggs in the early light. I wondered if all three would survive the weather, predators, hunger and thirst. But my day was beginning too so I couldn't sit long to see how it would all play out.
By late morning all three chicks had hatched and nestled close to each other, their already formed gray feathers covering their bodies. The parents squawked and faked injuries nearby to distract any predators from getting closer.
By late afternoon, one chick remained in the circle of pebbles that made up the shallow nest. I wondered what became of the other two, worried about the pending storm on the horizon and felt the wind grow colder.
As the lightning and thunder joined heavy rains in early evening, the fate of the chicks was in the balance. Would they drown? Would they get lost in the dark?
I peered out my kitchen window the next day, preparing to make blueberry pancakes and ticking off the items on my to-do list. I had already walked to the garden and didn't find a single chick...only the two killdeer parents wandering around aimlessly. Perhaps that is how life works, I thought. One minute you're here and living and breathing and the next you disappear. What is the point of life, then, if it's so brief and without purpose? Maybe it's because my birthday is this week, but everything felt a bit futile.
King Solomon said that all is vanity. He was the wisest human leader in the Bible, but at the end of his life he only found futility in his riches and power. He encouraged people to eat, drink and be merry with family and friends, to guard their hearts against sin, to work hard and stay focused. Because in the end the works of this world are worthless except the development of our character and wisdom. All earthly things come to rust and ruin...including us.
While the fools of the Bible focused only on pleasure and achievement, Solomon advised us to serve others to the best of our ability, enjoy the simple things and honor one another with our lives...however brief. We see examples of infants who inspire great works by their families even though their lives lasted minutes or hours. We also see examples of elderly teachers who continue to learn, grow and serve to the end. A speaker at a women's luncheon recently related the story of her dying mother who wrote cards of faithful encouragement to two people who needed a good word; these people received the cards the day of her mother's funeral.
Still gazing out my window, I saw something fascinating in my neighbor's yard. Three little specks darted back and forth in the grass. The killdeer parents flew around wildly, chasing off any curious wildlife. The chicks survived. And with God's grace we like them will rise to the opportunity of wild and precious life every moment we have to live it.
May God bless you and remind you of today's simple gifts.
I walked out to my garden to see the growth and to check on three killdeer eggs nestled near the beans. I was surprised to see one speckled egg heaving from the chick now partially visible inside it. A second egg had a tiny hole pecked through it and the chick inside that one moved the egg with its machine-gun breathing. The third egg still looked like a speckled rock, still and silent.
I sat quietly watching the eggs in the early light. I wondered if all three would survive the weather, predators, hunger and thirst. But my day was beginning too so I couldn't sit long to see how it would all play out.
By late morning all three chicks had hatched and nestled close to each other, their already formed gray feathers covering their bodies. The parents squawked and faked injuries nearby to distract any predators from getting closer.
By late afternoon, one chick remained in the circle of pebbles that made up the shallow nest. I wondered what became of the other two, worried about the pending storm on the horizon and felt the wind grow colder.
As the lightning and thunder joined heavy rains in early evening, the fate of the chicks was in the balance. Would they drown? Would they get lost in the dark?
I peered out my kitchen window the next day, preparing to make blueberry pancakes and ticking off the items on my to-do list. I had already walked to the garden and didn't find a single chick...only the two killdeer parents wandering around aimlessly. Perhaps that is how life works, I thought. One minute you're here and living and breathing and the next you disappear. What is the point of life, then, if it's so brief and without purpose? Maybe it's because my birthday is this week, but everything felt a bit futile.
King Solomon said that all is vanity. He was the wisest human leader in the Bible, but at the end of his life he only found futility in his riches and power. He encouraged people to eat, drink and be merry with family and friends, to guard their hearts against sin, to work hard and stay focused. Because in the end the works of this world are worthless except the development of our character and wisdom. All earthly things come to rust and ruin...including us.
While the fools of the Bible focused only on pleasure and achievement, Solomon advised us to serve others to the best of our ability, enjoy the simple things and honor one another with our lives...however brief. We see examples of infants who inspire great works by their families even though their lives lasted minutes or hours. We also see examples of elderly teachers who continue to learn, grow and serve to the end. A speaker at a women's luncheon recently related the story of her dying mother who wrote cards of faithful encouragement to two people who needed a good word; these people received the cards the day of her mother's funeral.
Still gazing out my window, I saw something fascinating in my neighbor's yard. Three little specks darted back and forth in the grass. The killdeer parents flew around wildly, chasing off any curious wildlife. The chicks survived. And with God's grace we like them will rise to the opportunity of wild and precious life every moment we have to live it.
Friday, April 13, 2012
Give Away What You Want the Most
What do you want the most in life? Is it love? Is it respect? Is it peace? Is it encouragement?
Give it to others. You will be amazed at how it all comes back to you.
Sit down sometime this weekend and jot down three to five things that you most want. In the next week, make it a practice to give those things to someone else...without expectation of return.
The return may not come to you in the same day or even the same month, but watch for it. It will come back to you.
Matthew 10:8 says "Freely you have received, freely give."
For example, if I value encouragement, then I could write a note to someone who I appreciate.
If I value forgiveness, then I could be understanding if someone is having a bad day and not on the best behavior.
If I value respect, then I could show tolerance for someone else's opinion.
And if I value love, then I could use every opportunity to display it for others, regardless of their response.
This giving could also be material. If I value a warm coat, I could provide one to someone in need. If I value a delicious meal, I could cook for someone (or buy someone dinner!).
Be creative. Write down the things you value and proceed to give them away. I'd love to hear what happens for you next!
Col 3:23
Friday, March 23, 2012
Hunger Games...really?
So I have read about the latest teen movie craze known as the Hunger Games, and I have to wonder...why?
Well, actually I don't wonder why. Our society is exposing children to violence at far younger ages than we witnessed in the most recent two generations.
In my day, we had Pac Man. Today, we have Call of Duty and Twisted Metal. In my day, we had "Who Shot J.R?" on Dallas, and I don't believe there was any blood shown. These days, we have scary alien monsters who bite a chunk out of a human being and the blood sprays all over — on prime time television.
Really?
Call me old fashioned, but there are few TV shows or movies that I'm interested in watching anymore, let alone those that claim to be PG-13 material. Haven't we seen enough real bloodshed in New York, Iraq, Afghanistan, Uganda, Syria, Libya, Egypt and on our own neighborhood streets to be sick of it? Literally. Sick of it. Are our senses so deadened that when we witness a child die, even "for pretend," it's no big deal?
If there is some poignant message in this movie about how it's the government's fault that people are shooting each other and fighting for resources, I don't get it. It seems to me that individuals are practicing enough selfishness and greed all by themselves without the government's help or hindrance.
So no, I'm not entertained by children trying to kill each other. And I vote no on exposing my children to it. They'll have enough real world troubles to deal with, and I don't want them desensitized to the tragedies and needs of others. Any kind of violence, real or imaginary, isn't OK.
John 13:35
Saturday, January 28, 2012
Teach Them to Pray
I saw this wonderful post on a friend's Facebook page this week, and want to pass on the steps for talking to kids about unanswered prayers.
God hears our prayers and answers them, but according to his will, not ours. This author at Christian Mom Thoughts explains it so much better.
And then there's this verse, if you doubt God's love or concern for us.
Luke 11:1-13
It doesn't always seem like God is listening, but this could also be said for any busy parent. We love our children and want to give them the best of everything, but not everything is in their best interests. When it seems like we're being unfair or inattentive, it's really because we have wisdom to see the future consequences of choices for our children. They want an answer right away, but we might need time to give the right answer.
And sometimes we also let them make decisions on their own — and we allow them to face the consequences.
It is a tender balance of holding tight and letting go in any relationship. But if our holding tight or letting go is done in love for the wellbeing of the other person, we can trust that God will use all for good.
I hope this post finds you in good health and practicing patient parenting, answering your children's requests with love and thoughtful consideration. They might not always like you, but that promise was never in the parent job description anyway.
If I missed that memo, please let me know!
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