Phasing Out ...

 

It’s just a phase he’s going through.

Phase it in. Give the public a chance to get used to it.

We are in the final phase of the project.

This is my favorite phase.

 

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My daughters are going through familiar phases in their lives … and asking me for advice. This has caused me to pause as I relive in my mind the situations I have been in. For a few situations, I can give advice that worked for me, but most of the time, looking back, it probably wasn’t the best idea and maybe I shouldn’t use what I did to survive as advice to my daughter. In other situations, I know for a fact what I did was a bad idea and I tell them that. Some advice I could give is literally not possible anymore – very strange, the world we live in now.

And then there are the things they are going through that I have never had to go through, so I pray. And I tell them I am praying. And I’m honest with them and say, “I have no idea what you should do.”

But this is a good thing. A very good thing. Because the next thing I tell them is probably the best advice I could give about anything – Go to God. Read the Bible. Ask for his wisdom. Spend lots of time praying, in fact, be praying all the time, like a constant conversation in your head to God. Then, don’t forget to pause and wait for God to speak. And be patient.

So, as I go through this phase of my life, with adult children dealing with adult situations, I thank God for the things He allowed in my life that threw me into His arms.

“But if any of you lacks wisdom, let him ask of God, who gives to all generously and without reproach, and it will be given to him.” – James 1:5

 

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It’s probably good timing to let you know about my book of devotions and thoughts I wrote after a particularly difficult phase of my life. Amazon will let you read some of it for free, so there’s no risk or hard sell here. I’m a terrible salesperson! LOL

Before Coffee God, by Rachel H T Mendell

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Which Route

 

“What route should be take?” said my husband looking at the new road atlas.

“That’s up to you,” I said. “You’re driving.”

At that moment I realized my husband and I had just played out a scenario enacted by my parents over and over, years ago. Except my mom frequently chose the route. She was navigator in the family.

Several times I tried to be navigator but with seven children to be on-call for, it was more efficient to be the stewardess. Sometimes one of the older children sat in the front passenger seat of the station wagon or nine passenger van or SUV or suburban and acted as navigator. It soon became a teaching tool.

A million miles of trip travel, a thousand destinations, a hundred scary situations … yet we continue to travel, choosing the same route for comfort or choosing a new route for adventure or being given an alternate route because of the Orange Cone Prophesy.

I have gathered stories:

-          The Breakdown in Beloit

-          Stuck in a Dry Wash While Looking for Petroglyphs

-          When the Truck Expired (parts 1,2, and 3)

-          Engine on Fire

-          Waiting It Out Under the Highway 35 Bridge

-          The Ice Road Outside Indianapolis

-          Slippery, Slippery Road

-          So Hot

-          Cramming 10 People in a Nova

-          Dust Storm over Texas

-          Will We Make It

-          High Winds

-          What a Lovely Park

-          The Guy Who Couldn’t Stop Talking

-          Let’s Go Home

-          And many, many more

Stay tuned, I’m sure I’ll remember more … like the one about being stuck behind a herd of sheep …

 

See more at FMF

I'm short

I’m short.

I’m short about five dollars. Can you help me?

I shorted the measurement, now I have to go get another 2x4.

He was three inches short of the long-jump record.

You shorted me on the material. Now I need it cut again.

Life is short.

Pain is shorter.

Short on patience

 Short on time

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I’ve always been short, the shortest one in class, the shortest one on staff, the shortest one on the team, the shortest one in choir. The shortest.

But through the years I’ve made it work. And I have spoken with other short people who have found the same secrets.

Like in basketball. I loved playing basketball in grade school. I was 4’9”, but I was good. I wasn’t ever going to be tall enough for center, but I made a mean guard. And, as you know, guards guard. That’s what they do. They guard the ball, guard the forwards, guard the center … and steal the ball. Because I was short, I played from a different perspective and spotted holes in the defense of the other team. My favorite game memory was when I stole the ball from the opponent’s forward, spun around and made a lay-up that won the game. At that moment, I knew being short could be an advantage.

Recently, I held a job at Hobby Lobby (a store created for tall people). I was short (5’2”), but I’m fairly certain my manager was at least an inch shorter. I marveled at how she managed to stock shelves, move boxes, run the conveyor, unload the trucks, and out-negotiate irritable customers (all who were taller than she). Her shortness was a fine art. She became my hero. If she could do those things, then so could I – given a few more months of practice. And I did. My most pleasant memory was when my coworkers stopped arguing with me when I went up the ladder to grab overstock. They didn’t realize that being short meant a lower center of gravity and I was probably safer up there than they were.

At times, my shortness seemed like a disability. When the neighborhood kids played red-rover or kickball I was last to be chosen. As a choir member I was always placed in the front row. Some rides at Disneyland and local fairs were off-limits to me.

And then there were the jokes …

But looking back, I wouldn’t change a thing. I learned self-reliance, resilience, determination, and how to be a monkey. There’s no school that can teach that, only necessity.

I have lots more short stories, but I’ll save them for the future memoir.

 

Go check out what others wrote about SHORT.