Learning Along The Way

30 Days of Giving #19: Normal

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Gloucester Cathedral doorNow there’s a word: Normal.

Normal is a good word for body temperatures. Normal is a good word for weather patterns.

Normal is not a good word for people. Especially not a good word for children.

We might think we want normal but what that really means is:

look like everybody else. (don’t wear those colors or patterns together)

behave. (when you feel silly and want to laugh)

be quiet (when you want to sing).

hurry up (when you want to go slow and look at the flowers)

Because why? (so you don’t embarrass your parents and make them look bad)

Hmmm

Normal isn’t really all it’s cracked up to be just so you know.  Take it on good authority here.

Let your children pick their clothes.  Let yourself wear something different than usual (another boring word for normal)

You were not created to be like everybody else.  You are unique.  You are intended to live the life you’re given by offering the uniqueness that is you to the world. The world who needs people like you to live out of the culturally imposed box or the family imposed box or the school district imposed box or the church imposed box…

Lisa's CollageAnd that beautiful soul of yours may need some freedom to express the image of its Creator. His image in you that He has made to share with the world so that He can be seen. In you. Through you.

You might just discover a little of who you really are if you step out of the box of normal.

Normal is just a setting on the washing machine.

I wish that was an original line but it’s actually a lyric from one of my all time favorite songs. “To All Purple Tree Trunks” by Jack Pearson.  Jack is a self-proclaimed “weirdo” who lives his art by writing and making music for children (and their “normal” parents). Don’t let the word “weirdo” bother you…it’s the favorite word thrown from in the box people to those of us living out of the box of expectations.

Please go listen.  Then come back and tell me your thoughts.

30 Days of Giving #18: Write

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Gloucester Cathedral doorThe new and old are coming together in me.  It’s not been easy letting go…

I ran the risk of losing something that held value. Like forgetting the person who gave me what I’ve held since childhood; a trinket that has no value other than the memory.

Leaving a place that is full of the memories of life; roads driven, paths walked, beaches strolled.

Tank Farm Road July

 

Islay Park Bridge

 

Avila inletLeaving is hard.  It’s important to acknowledge the pain of loss, the difficulty of change.

But don’t stop there. That’s called being stuck.  Or if knowing change is hard keeps us from making changes, that is fear.  Fear of the unknown can keep us from growing.  From fully living the one life we’ve been given.

In facing the hard and chipping away at it a little at a time the process of change can be manageable.  Loss is still painful.  Change is still hard but little by little, bite-size even, changes can be handled.

In the big move there were 1000 decisions at least.  I didn’t count them but I know there were hundreds for sure!  What to keep. What to give. What to sell. What to donate. What to store.

Books were hardest for me.  Some valuable for their age and condition. Some valuable for the laughter they brought. Some valuable for the markings made in the reading.  We have 6 boxes of books left.  I have unpacked one.  My journals.

My life on paper from the ripe old age of 13 to present day.  I don’t read through them on a regular basis. I don’t need to. I know what season of life each journal cover holds close.  I glance at the cover and remember. Ah yes. High School.  Another? Early motherhood.  Yet another?  A book of deep grief.

Collections of quotes, song lyrics, poems read and copied, poems written by hand and heart. Prayers cried through. Praise recorded. Deep wounds brought to Light for healing.

The old and new coming together in me.

I write.  The following is from a class I am taking currently:

I write because I have this sense of responsibility. 

I write because I was given stories by elders who are now gone; there are those behind me who see faces in scrapbooks but those lives are meaningless without the stories.

I write because I was given the oral traditions of our family and must pass them on to the next generations whether they stop to read them or not

I write because I hold my hand back into the past to hold its hand while reaching forward into the future to grasp its hand; as if I am the connecting conduit from past to future.

I write because I have a burning passion to allow the telling of the dark parts their freedom from hiding that they can be revealed and healed in the Light

I write because there is a holy nudge gently prodding the stories, the words, the phrases out of my head through my heart

I write because I need to

I write because it helps me to think aloud onto paper

I write to process

I write to be free

I write to record my personal Old Testament; to record the faithfulness of God at work in my life and my family’s lives.

my current journalMy current journal’s cover. It will remind me of this year of The Big Move. No one may ever care to read what’s held close by this cover but I must write.

I’m a writer. It’s how I process life and am able to offer myself to others.

What are your thoughts about writing?

 

 

 

30 Days of Giving #10: Reflect

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Happy Day! Today is a day when people who claim the name of Christ as theirs gather together all over the world to corporately worship God.

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“Happy are the people who know the joyful shout; Yahweh, they walk in the light of Your presence. They rejoice in your name all day long, and they are exalted by Your righteousness.”

I heard a teacher once say we are to be the reflection of Christ to the world. Much like the still water reflects the image of the hills behind it in the morning light.
Sounds lovely. Looks lovely. That works when you are completely still.
But what happens when you move? when the storms of life come? The reflection is blurred.
If we are only to reflect God to the world then we either have to sit still on the sidelines of life or we run the risk of a blurred reflection of God.
Which of course is what we do as we live our lives.

Emily Freeman has written a great book, A Million Little Ways, that brings out a different image of how we reflect God to the world. It’s actually not reflecting at all.
God’s life in us comes out of us as we are fully who and how we are intended by our Creator to be. It is the art of our life that most accurately shows God’s image to the world. in A Million Little Ways.
This book is a transforming book. A must read. I am thrilled by the freedom Emily’s words bring to my heart. Her reflection on God’s Word shows me how I can be free to move through the world being me; not stifled by trying to be a carbon copy of the most upright person I know or by thinking I am to stoically sit and reflect the image of God to the world.
Read Emily’s book.

30 Days of Giving #8: Laugh

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Gloucester Cathedral doorThe year I turned 50 was not a year full of reasons to laugh.  My life sounded a bit like a country song: my mom died, my dog died, my dad died. And my only brother and I stopped speaking. Blegh. Tim McGraw? Brad Paisley?

But someone understood exactly what I needed to do.  She not only brought a casserole, she gave me a reminder that I could look at daily.

laughMy dear friend Sue gave me the wood cut out for Christmas that year. She is one person who knows how to do that well.

Sue consistently points out both the light-hearted things in life and asks me to think about what God has to say on the subject.

Today Sue and her siblings and as much of the Moore family who could travel, gathered to honor the life of wife, mom, and grandma, the woman who never knew a stranger. Sue’s mom passed away in her sleep two weeks shy of her 95th birthday.  Now that’s a long life.  Betty Moore was generous, hospitable and loved to laugh.  All traits she passed down to her 5 children.

What a gift to give to the next generation: laughter.

Don’t take yourself too seriously.  Take time to laugh everyday.  Even better laugh at yourself.  If your anything like me there are humorous moments in everyday.

I’m sure there was laughter today hearing stories of family escapades. Remember the time…?

SueIf you haven’t already been reading Sue’s blog, you can find her encouraging and laughing at welcomeheart.  A shared recipe, a story well told and laughter.  Now that’s a good friend.

 

30 Days of Giving #7: Read

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Gloucester Cathedral doorIt is so appropriate that on the 7th post in this 30 Days of Giving that Read is today’s gift.

I used to read to hide; now I read to be found.

Reading books has been a part of my life since I was 3.  According to my Mom’s stories, her first born prodigy was reading Mother Goose alone out loud at the age of 3.  I received a lot of encouragement to read.

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And reading is what I turned to when life got chaotic.

Around the age of 10 my mother went back to school at night to get a Master’s degree that would garner a higher salary as a teacher. My brother was 6 and his special needs were revealing themselves at school: attention deficit and some processing disorders. A true spectrum child.  In those days there wasn’t the level of knowledge or support either for home or school; emotional outbursts and disruptive behavior were seen as bad behavior not as a cry for help by a child trapped in a body that wouldn’t or couldn’t do what was asked.

My Dad was working 6 days a week at a job that wasn’t his passion; he was a man meant to work with his hands creating things. But there is no money in that. So between work that was passionless, a son that was out of control, a wife that was gone all day and late into the night, losing oneself in TV and beer was the best course.

All of this was too much for me, so I would get lost in books.

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Upstairs in my room with the door open to keep an ear attuned to when someone was heading up the stairs, I would go away to Prince Edward Island. Anne Shirley became my expression of freedom and precocious behavior that I wasn’t allowed. I read every single Lucy Maud Montgomery book in succession. I had the entire original edition series in hardback thanks to my great-aunt Mildred who worked in a children’s bookstore in Wichita Falls, Texas.

Anne with an E. That’s me. Lisa Anne.  My mother was Betty Anne.  She refused to be called Betty. Her grandmother was Anne Elizabeth.  Lots of Anne with an E in our family.  I didn’t get to pass that along to either of my sons; somehow it just didn’t fit…

Reading allowed me a place of escape, a place of refuge, a place of enjoyment.  Of course I didn’t realize all this at that time. Coming back from the imaginary lives of these well written characters to the reality of the chaotic life I which I was a real life character was jarring sometimes.  Visions of cherry trees in blossom being called the Great White Way; Anne and Diana playing together were helpful internal escapes when the yelling and crying started.

The yelling and crying continued for the next 7 years and I suspect it continued after I graduated and moved away to college. I turned down UCLA because we lived too close for me to be in the dorms and I just couldn’t continue to live at home. The chaos was excruciating.

But the shelter of books changed in college. There was no time for pleasure reading to hide from the hurts of my childhood. So I chose to numb out in other ways while books became tools for grades and accomplishment instead.

As a teacher and later as a parent I reconnected with the joy of story as I shared my early-  love of reading with children. Oh how I love to watch the faces of children as they listen to a good story unfold!  Reading aloud to my students and my sons, helping children see with the eyes of imagination was my favorite part of working with children.

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Reconnecting with stories and seeing with redeemed eyes has been the deepest pleasure; imagined story that connects with the One True Story giving way to seeing how our stories connect with His story…so good! Great literature does that well.

Books remain my best source of growth, imagination and relaxation.  Reading is something I make time for daily even if it’s only ten minutes here or there; reading is still a passion even without external chaos.

Do you read? Is it a place of refuge? What do you like to read?

30 Days of Giving

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Gloucester Cathedral doorI have been blessed – and challenged – by many bloggers’ 31 Days of … posts through October.  They were wonderful. Beautiful. Graceful. Fun.

I have also been reading and participating in two online communities focusing on two different books.  One is A Confident Heart by Renee Swope.  The study is being led by Melissa Taylor and the Proverbs 31 OBS team.  It’s a good and hard book- focusing on my developing a confident heart trusting God’s promises.

The other book is titled A Million Little Ways by Emily Freeman. The book group is through the in Courage book club, Bloom. Emily’s book is also good and hard as she gracefully shows me the now and not yet of living this life as the poeima of God (read the book! It’s so worth it!)

In holding out what I am learning from each book I recognize that I am a giver.  Part of how God shows Himself to the world through me is through encouragement offered to others.  In a.million.little.ways.  It may be greeting the clerk by name at the store when I check out(they wear name tags for a reason). It may be an email, or text, or tweet, or blog post. It may be a handwritten note sent through the mail. Lots of ways to give encouragement.

So I am going to challenge myself to give to others through encouragement for the next 30 days.

You can receive the daily encouragements in your inbox if you sign up on the right and subscribe to my blog.

Will you open the door and come along with me?

Perfect Love: Exceeding, Abundant, Beyond

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The most difficult thing I’ve had to do in the past 6 years happened this summer. We moved after 15 years. Not just once but 8 times since June. But the moving wasn’t the hardest part.
The hardest part was not being able to move our pets with us, who are both 10 & 11 years old. This became evident as my husband kept hunting for work out of our area and even across the country.

20131017-133024.jpg Miss Arwen was kindly cared for during our first move by our wonderful across the street neighbors. They had cared for her on many occasions over the years and they already had a cat who Arwen knew and was comfortable with. They were happy to help us keep her stable while we were still looking for our landing pad.
The thing I kept saying over and over throughout this crazy time was “There are no unknowns to God.” This truth of God’s omniscience helped me stay ‘somewhat’ sane.
Finding a temporary home for our dog Tux was a different story. Our new tenants allowed him to stay in the backyard of our former home while we were in flux; I came every morning to feed and walk him. His favorite walk was at the beach.

20131017-134329.jpg Tux loves to run and play with other dogs. I thought putting an ad on Craigslist and posting of his availability on Facebook would make it easy to find someone wanting a playmate. Not so.
Week after week went by. A sweet older couple wanted to give him a try. We arranged a weekend stay. He was too energetic for their 3 cats, so Tux came back to our old backyard and back to the morning walks.
More time passed; my husband had accepted a job out of the area and we would be moving into another temporary place where we knew no pets were allowed. Our kitty was welcomed into our neighbors’ family, so we knew she would be fine.
The ad on Craigslist for our dog finally had a response! A woman on a ranch with two dogs was looking for a playmate for the younger of her two. The timing was perfect! It must be the Lord answering my prayers! We took Tux up to her ranch and the dogs all got along right away. She was a sweet woman with plenty of fenced space. This looked like a great home for him.
The goodbye was tearful for me but we also knew it was only for two weeks; I would be able to see him again when I came back to the area to meet the movers for our final move.
Everything seemed to be going fine for Tux; she texted a picture of him cooling down in the water trough one hot August afternoon. He was doing well, or so we thought.
One Tuesday evening she texted that she couldn’t keep Tux any longer. No explanation. We had a text conversation about the fact that we were four hours away and that I would be back in town on Saturday. I went into a panic! What were we going to do? We had no options! I cried. We prayed for wisdom and for a miracle placement.
When I returned to our area that weekend I contacted our local shelter to see about surrendering him. I was told there was a 4 week waiting list for an appointment to interview us and to meet and evaluate our dog. They began to tell me how I could try to “re-home” him myself, but I tearfully explained the 10 week process we had already been through and that this was my only option. She said she was sorry but there was nothing she could do. I would have to take him elsewhere. I was alone with this dilemma; my husband and sons were all in different cities and states. I sat in the truck and just sobbed. I did not want to take him to Animal Services. He was 10. I was sure he would be euthanized.
This was too much! I was angry about my husband’s job. I was broken over having to leave our home, our friends, and our church community. I had “held it together” through all these crazy moves during the summer while he hunted for new work. But this news was the straw that broke the camel’s back. I fell apart, alone in our son’s truck, crying over our dog and everything else all wrapped into one.
Ever so tenderly, wonderful words of love came into my mind: “You’re not alone in this. I will never leave you or forsake you.” “You can do this, in My strength”.
I met the woman and Tux early the next morning, pre-dawn on her way to work. I spent the last day with him walking him at the beach with a dear friend. I took him to a nearby backyard to borrow water and bath him before I drove him out to give him up. The people who received Tux were very compassionate and encouraging. They told me to check on the web in a couple of days and I could follow his adoption process. I tried not to cry but I failed miserably.
I drove away that day, leaving our family dog and leaving the community I loved all at once. Oh so hard.
From our temporary housing in our hew town, I checked their website the next day and his name and age was already up! Three days later I checked on their website to see if his photo and info had been posted. His name was gone! I called to see if he had been adopted. The gal said “noooo just a minute”. I got a sick feeling as she put me on hold. When she came back on she had a different tone altogether. Very cheerfully she said “Someone from Woods came over and selected him to move over to their shelter adoption program on a trial basis. If he passes their evaluation he will stay there until he’s adopted.” This was amazing, miraculous news! This was the place that had told me there was a wait list to even interview! Who could have arranged these details? Who!?
Only One that I know. The One Who loves with a perfect love. The One Who knows my heart and my broken places and cares for me just as I am.
I don’t deserve this kind of love. He knows that. This exceeding abundant beyond love is what grace is really all about. Perfect Love.

20131017-144247.jpg This is Tux posing for his adoption portrait. He’s available in case you’re interested. God knows. God sees. God cares. God loves with Perfect Love!

Embracing Change

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I love the saying “Both-And, Not, Either-Or”. It really captures how I look at life. Especially now in the middle of some of the biggest changes in my recorded history.

SO it makes perfect sense that I am reading two books and joining the online community to process what I’m reading. I love to think about and then discuss good books. Anyone?

This week I started an online book study with Proverbs 31. It’s the second time I have done a study with them. I highly recommend how they provide options for interacting. Here’s the cover:

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You can find them here

I will also be participating in a book group for this brand new book by the lovely Emily P Freeman.

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I am half way through this book already. It is compelling. It speaks to my soul. It is life changing.
Those are some strong statements. I mean them to be. I think everyone should read this book. I can’t wait to participate in the book group with these women

I am embracing change by the both-and approach: I am both grieving the loss of place and stepping forward to make new connections.

How do you approach change? Do you like it? Avoid it at all cost? Look at it sideways from afar?
I’d LOVE to HEAR from you with your answer to any one of these questions!

Real Faith is Vulnerable

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If you’ve dropped by before, you know that my family has been in transition mode for quite awhile: 113 days our belongings have been in storage; but who’s counting? We house sat, we were nomadic, we rented a cottage for two months. We are in finally in our garden condo now. We don’t have internet yet so I am sitting at a local coffee shop using their free internet to write this post.

My husband and I began praying about the next step for our lives way back in April. Throughout this six month upheaval I have heard two statements again and again; whether it’s someone I know well or someone I’ve just met.
“I could NEVER do that!” “I don’t know HOW you are doing this!”

These statements are common because they reflect all of our hearts. Change is hard. Change is scary. Change takes a.lot.of.work.
You see, I could never do this either. Leaving our home of 15 years. Selling or giving away most of our furniture and other possessions. Donating dishes, clothes, decorator items that I really enjoyed. Lots and lots of change. When I have tried to live through these circumstances in my own strength I have either fallen apart under the stress of the change or melted into a puddle of tears. Only those two choices. Really.
So the response to those two statements is the same: ” I can’t do this either. It’s Jesus in me is doing this move thing. Not me.”
I am tired.
I cry. A. Lot.
I miss my home, my kids, my friends, my church community and our pets.
And then I am reminded of why we made this big move. This guy has been the servant leader of our family and it was time for him to fly.

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I unpack a box, look inside and can see where this statue used to sit on top of our piano. (Which was invited to stay in our former home, now a rental.) Seeing this gift from a dear friend just undid me.

But then…a beautiful, still, small voice reminds me of why the gift was given. And in that same box is a book written by another friend. Another offering of love meant to encourage growth and change.
So I put them together and took this picture.

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I am challenged to trust again. Trusting God with this new place. With this new season. With my friends far away. With friends I haven’t yet met. With my husband’s new job. and health. and my fears begin to fade…in the Light of His Word
“Behold, I will do something new. Now it will spring forth; will you not be aware of it? I will even make a roadway in the wilderness, rivers in the desert.”

Lessons Learned

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I am really enjoying reading other writers’ work.  Blogs, books, ebooks, even tweets! I have had a steady diet of dead people’s writing for many years and they continue to influence my thoughts but lately I am really energized by current work.

For example, Jeff Goins.  I first learned of Jeff’s work through Michael Hyatt (another writer I am influenced by).  I read a couple of Jeff’s posts and subscribed to his blog via email.  That’s a great way to stay connected with writers you enjoy (you can subscribe to my blog that way too! hint, hint)

Since I just wrote about Journeys, I was excited to read Jeff’s email; he posted about journeys that day as well.  And I wasn’t disappointed!

He does this so well I want you to benefit from his work.  The following is excerpted from Jeff Goins’ email to his subscribers on Monday, Sept.30

10 lessons we learn from journeys

Journeys are important — both physical ones as well as figurative ones. They help remind us that we are not done yet, that life itself is a trip that we can make the most of or completely miss the point.

So here are 10 brief lessons I learned from my trip. Maybe they’ll help you on whatever journey you’re taking:

  1. No journey is perfect. Take one, anyway. You will grow regardless.
  2. The destination is never quite what we expect. But without one, we wander aimlessly. So having a final arrival point is important if for no other reason than it gets you started.
  3. Only when we let go of what we think we deserve can we really enjoy what we have.
  4. Inspiration is everywhere. You just need eyes to see it. Yes, even in cornfields.
  5. The hard part isn’t getting from point A to B. It’s paying attention to what’s around you before you miss it.
  6. A journey is less meaningful when traveled alone. We need community to make the most of all experiences, even if that means finding it along the way.
  7. Art helps us process. A good book or great record not only helps pass the time; it gives language to an experience you might otherwise not be able to describe.
  8. Gratitude makes any experience better. It’s easy to want to be home or some place else but we have no control over that. Turns out all we can control is our attitude. So why not be thankful?
  9. The best journeys have a purpose. But expect to be surprised and even see that purpose change.
  10. If you accomplish nothing, see nothing, even feel nothing, take heart. Whether you realize it or not, you’ve changed. And this is reason enough to continue traveling.  Also you can click over to his site and subscribe to his blog.

I am doing my own reflecting on our journeys of this summer and fall (as the season has now changed).

What about you?  How are Jeff’s lessons similar to your experiences?  How are they different?

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