Present

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Present

Be present

For a long time I couldn’t figure out what being present in the moment was. Then I read a few detailed descriptions of what it was like to be present, and I realized I had been present for most of my life.

Yes, I think about the future. Yes, I play out scenarios in my head to get myself ready for the thing I dread, the thing I fear, the thing I want to have more control over. Yes, I dream about what could be from time to time.

Yes, I wonder if I could have said that thing a little differently. Yes, I wish I could change what happened in the past by being more prepared or by taking my time. Yes, I regret from time to time.

But most days I’m living right now, typing this tiny essay, thinking about being in the moment, feeling my fingertips on the keys and enjoying the sound of the quiet clicking, the bang, bang, bang of backspacing, the quiet pausing as I listen to the birds singing, identifying them … helmet sparrow … tufted titmouse … cardinal … bombastic blue jay … and the one I’ve been trying to capture on bird.net because I hear it but I don’t see it and I haven’t heard it before.

Thinking …

A writer is being present most of the time, but it’s complicated because it involves listening, jotting, doodling, creating scenarios and copying them down, listening to characters get away from them, copying down snippets of conversations for later, listening to restroom gossip from behind the stall door, wondering if that certain phrase once published will ruffle feathers and cause parents to stop talking to them.

All this while being present.

It’s a great present to be present.

 

_RHTM_

Sunshine

 

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Sunshine

I lived in sunshine.

The sun beating down on my head,

Burning out all my infirmities,

Heating up my immune system,

Teaching me to drink water,

Loving me with an intense embrace

We were advised to stay out of the sun from 10 am until 2 pm

But few of us did

And many of us couldn’t

There were jobs and walking in the park and strolling to the store and pool parties and zoo visits and hiking the rocks and watering the plants and hanging the laundry

And living

The sunshine served as an intensifier for aromas and beauty when the rare rain fell as exploding color and deep rich mustiness filled the day of moisture

The sunshine taught me to pace myself

To be tough

To be resilient

To be prepared

To endure

But not all sunshine is created equal

 

 

_RHTM_

Right

 

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Right

You know, you’re right. I should have done it your way. What was I thinking?

We’re both right. Can’t we agree to disagree?

There is no right or wrong.

I got the right answer!

Yay! I’m right!

Turn right at the next light.

Please, let me be right this time …

I have a right to vote, to work, to buy, to sell, to own, to speak, to live

_RHTM_

Guess

_RHTM_

 

Guess

I guess

Guess how many

Guess what it is

Guess my age

Guess what I’m holding behind my back

Guess what’s going to happen next

I guess I’ll just wait and see

I guess it’s all for the best

If I guess, I might get it right

This is just a guess, but …

Guess what I’m doing

 

What should I do now?

 

I guess I’ll just sit down and write …

 

_RHTM_

Respite

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The Respite is powerful.

A respite from work, vacation, Sunday drive, comfortable chair in the house or in the yard.

A respite from the world via novel, walk, movie, bird watching, or dark closet.

At work a respite in the break room with an energy bar can bring a little life back into the legs.

At home a respite with coffee and snack can renew energy to tackle that huge project.

The more Powerful Respite is God. He creates a space for me every day, at my desk, at my chair, out by my oak tree, in my truck, in the park, in the garden. A place where I can be alone with Jesus, read His Word, listen to His Voice, and be renewed.

“And do not be conformed to this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind, so that you may prove what the will of God is, that which is good and acceptable and perfect.” – Romans 12:2 NASB1995

_RHTM_

find more posts to read at FMF

Before

 

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Before

Before there was you, there was me

Before there was Internet, there were libraries, telephone calls, letters, and conversations

Before there were cell phones, there was waiting and calling and waiting and going next door or driving to their house

Before there were children, there were parents

Before the house was the small house and before the small house was the apartment

Before the office was the closet, before the closet was the desk by the window

Before the washer and dryer was the tub

Before showers was the tub and the barrel out back

Before church buildings were homes

Before cars were horses, before horses were legs

Before God …

There was nothing before God

 

_RHTM_

Go

 

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Go

Don’t go

Stay

Go away

Leave

Get out, fear

Go away, anxiety

Hit the road, worry

Pride, git!

None of those things work for me. They never have. Why are you guys still around?

Go

Don’t go, perseverance

Stay, compassion

Don’t leave, love, creativity, openness

Sit, resilience

I need you guys

_RHTM_

Time

 

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Time

I think we as humans are mistaken about time. I think time is in God’s hands. He can take it away. He can give us more. He can slow time or speed it up.

I think “using our time wisely” becomes an excuse for rushing through, competing with others, ignoring important things, pushing people away, becoming lost in a world of robotic success.

We are given time to live, but we don’t know how much we have, so we frantically use it to do what we think is important, or what we are told to do, or what society has influenced us to do.

By trying to control our time we fear it (time is running out) instead of appreciating it. By trying to use our time wisely we judge others by how they use theirs (well, that was a waste of time). By keeping track of time we exhaust ourselves and become drama queens of excellence (look at all the things I got done today).

God teaching us to number our days is not a divine permission to rush, make endless lists and schedules, create tension. The only way we can number our days is by God teaching us, by waking in the morning and asking God what is important to Him, by pausing to thank Him for each minute.

God, I give my time to You. Show me what I should to do in this minute. In Jesus Name (The Man who took His time).

 

_RHTM_

Walk

 

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Walk

Walk this way

Walk in the light

Walking every day

Speed walking

Walking slowly

Walking the straight and narrow

Walking in love

Walking along my journey

Walking in the dark

Walking along a highway with a flashlight

Walking around my house and noting what needs to be done

Walking around my property and noting what needs to be done

Walking up the stairs

Walking in circles

Walking in a fog

Walk the walk, talk the talk

Walking in unity

Walking with pain

Walking step by step

Walking, not competing

Taking baby steps

Just keep walking

 

_RTHM_

Begin

 

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Begin

The other day I had coffee with a friend. We talked about goals, books, writers, workouts, and coffee. We’ve known each other for a while so there’s lots to talk about, but we have both silently agreed that some of our shared history doesn’t make for good conversation. You know, the kind where the more you talk about things that happened, the more you feel bad, sick, angry, neck and shoulders tensing, mood taking a jump off the Cliff of Hopelessness.

Two weeks ago I began my life again (you could call it a reset if you like). A recent book motivated me to restart my workouts, restructure my days, and reinvent my goals (vision, dreams, wishes).

I was stuck and I was trying to go back to old methods to get where I wanted to be. Old work out videos were either too hard, too boring, or too annoying. Old methods weren’t working.

But this book gave me encouragement and motivation.

Start small.

Baby steps.

Do what you can.

I won’t bore you with my routine, or with my successes or failures, because it doesn’t matter anymore. What matters is beginning.

And each day I get a new day to begin.

God gives me a day.

I talk to Him and write my list.

Then I do it.

And doing it involves saying to myself I really need to do the thing (because I will feel better, because I promised that person I would, because God told me to) that makes me feel better even if I have that two-year-old inside me stomping her feet and saying, “No!”

Doing it means pushing myself a little, but being kind to myself when I don’t do as much as yesterday.

Doing it means I have created a vision – doing this thing every day and believing I will get better, just a little at a time. I felt better after three days, so I keep going because I want to keep feeling better (physically, mentally).

Thank You, God, for my friend that knows that talking about the past can be unhealthy for me and talking about books and new workouts and goals and You is the best motivation.

And so, I begin.

_RHTM_

Space

 

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Space

I need space for my big mistakes.

I’ve got lots of space, I just need to use it better.

This house is a great big craft room.

You’re spreading again (“spreading” means you are sitting in one place and your stuff is sitting in another place and you need to decide which place you want to be because you can’t have both).

Space is not the final frontier. Heaven is.

I like the variety of a small space and a large space, many spaces, some messy, some neat, some dirty, some clean, some cramped, some expansive. It keeps my brain happy.

I don’t have space for everything because I have too much stuff.

There’s enough space for everyone everywhere. There will never be too many people. If you feel cramped, go to Idaho.

My space. Your space. Our space.

Spoil

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Spoil

Don’t let it spoil

You’ll spoil her

Get rid of the food in the back frig, it’s spoiling

Well, he’s spoiled for choice

Oh, now, you spoiled it

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Life spoils.

God does not.

I make things that go bad, or fall apart, or rust, or break, or become forgotten, end up unloved, trashed.

God created the world without any spoilage. Everything worked as it should, perfectly living, breathing, eating, moving, being upheld by the Perfect Creator.

We messed it up. God redeemed it.

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Thank You, Father, for this world, for my life, for the things that make me happy, the things that challenge me, the things that grow my faith. Help me care for everyone and everything You have given me. I look forward to the perfect world You have promised to those who love You. Even so, Jesus, come quickly!

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“… and into an inheritance that can never perish, spoil, or fade. This inheritance is kept in heaven for you,” – 1 Peter 1:4

More at FMF ...

Funnels

I use a funnel for lots of things. I find them useful. I have a small salt shaker with large holes that I keep filled with Kosher salt. To fill it I need a funnel.

I can tomatoes, tomato juice, and applesauce. To pour the sauce into the jar for canning I need a funnel. If I don’t use a funnel I make a mess, which I have to wipe up, clean the outside and top of the canning jar so the seal is successful. They make special funnels for wide mouth jars and small mouth jars.

I’ve bought lots of funnels. I have a cheap dollar store set that works well for liquid, but not for herbs. I buy large containers of spices and funnel the spices into small spice jars and use them a little at a time, keeping the mother container in a cool dark place. Those white funnels clogged quickly with basil and oregano, so I resorted to creating my own funnel using a piece of printer paper. It worked okay, but I made a mess.

Another mess.

Recently, happily, I bought some funnels from Pampered Chef that are perfect for funneling spices. Yes, the happiness is real.

But I’m not a spice. I’m not applesauce.

Recently I took a class on web building which included newsletters, creating free content, and attracting Your Audience. Included in the teaching was the process of making a funnel.

I was excited to invent my newsletter and my free content (which I already had). I wasn’t too keen on attracting people, but I was learning so, you know, when you sign up to learn something you have to trust the process.

As I was sharing this information with a friend at church she said, with frustration and candor, “I hate funnels.” The sharpness of her words caught me off guard. She said she had bought too many products she never used because of the free things she went after while going inside the funnel. “I avoid all funnels,” she said.

I wanted to defend myself but was hit with the fact that I was looking at my new knowledge from the cook’s point of view, not the applesauce. I didn’t have a response except that I hadn’t created a funnel yet, because it cost money. Money I didn’t have.

Later I mused about water swirling down the funnel into my water bottle, maybe not wanting to go into the water bottle, but being helpless to stop. I imagined myself applesauce clinging to the side of the funnel and a big spatula pushing me in.

And then being stuck in the jar for all eternity.

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I have gone down way too many funnels in my life to feel good about creating one.

No funnels for me, thanks. I’m driving.

Since that time I have taken down my website, which was lovely and fun to play with, but much too expensive. I have stopped sending a newsletter and told the monkey I didn’t need him anymore. I don’t have enough to say.

And I sure don’t want to create funnels that trick people into buying something they really don’t want, but bought it because my words were encouraging, or empowering, or funny, or maybe … lies (even though we are taught to use words like “might” or “maybe” or “it’s possible” to alleviate any guilt on our part).

I don’t really have a platform. I’m just me. You don’t need to buy me. If you can find me (I’ve been practicing invisibility since my reporter days) I’ll gladly give you my time for free. Maybe even my book if I know it might help you.

I apologize to my friends who were kind enough to buy into “me” only to find I’m free.

I’m free. No funnels.

But I do love a good funnel cake!

Friend

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Friend

Sometimes I wish I had one of those movie best friends. You know. The one that I would talk to every day and share my deepest hurts and feelings and dreams and yearnings. The one that would drop everything and come to my house/apartment and listen intently while sipping wine and eating take-out. The one that finishes my sentences and confides secrets and always always always takes my side in every conflict.

But I know that I can be pretty intense as friends go. I talk so long, I manipulate the conversation, I try to make sure I get all my thoughts in, that sometimes those friends don’t talk to me for weeks, months, years … ever again.

So, when my brain gets on that train, I stop myself, and ask God what needs to happen.

And He reminds me that Jesus is my Friend. I can tell Him anything and no one will ever know. He keeps all my secrets. He listens, knowing I love the person I’m complaining about, I just don’t know how to be a friend to them.

There are lots of people I can call ‘friend.’ Some of them might not even know that I call them friend, but I do because I believe I can trust them with a small sharing, with a prayer request, with a tiny secret.

Now, when I say secret, I mean something I believe that might offend someone else, some opinion that others might not agree with, some goal that others don’t understand. The big secrets – the personal ones I don’t want anyone to know, the bad things my friends may have done, the tiny fact that might bring down someone’s life – those secrets I tell no one. I learned my lesson long ago. The explosion was so large it took a year to just recuperate from the blast. I’m still recuperating from that fallout.

I think a best friend is very rare. I used to think a person would know when they found their best friend, but I’m not sure it happens all that fast. There are people I’ve known from grade school and high school that still communicate with me. This is huge. All the bad stuff I’ve done and all the issues I’ve had and all the disappearing I’ve done, and they still talk to me?

That’s a friend.

I married my best friend, one who got me through bad times, embarrassing times. He knows everything, or just about everything about me, and yet he still stays with me. He has hurt me deeply, but I have learned to forgive him. I have hurt him deeply as well, and I trust that he has forgiven me. It’s a lot of heart work. I’m not good at heart work. I don’t enjoy doing heart work. But God helps me.

 In the end, my Very Best Friend is Jesus. I can tell Him anything and He doesn’t share that information with anyone, unless it will work out for my good. He tells me the truth about myself, but in a way that is gentle, slow, asking me to take baby steps. He knows what I can handle and doesn’t ask too much of me. And He always listens.

Thank You, Jesus, for being my Friend and setting the very best example of what a Friend should be.

_ RHTM _

Consume

We are what we consume. 

It starts by watching one show on HULU and then the next one, until I’m officially binging, and my afternoon is gone. 

It was only one day I slept in because I had a bad night, a storm, an accident, a family emergency, and now I find myself sleeping in every day and feeling like nothing is getting accomplished. 

It starts small, just a few chips, just something to tide me over until my lunch is finished cooking, and there goes half the bag. 

And then there’s the busy day that pushes out my regular Bible study. After a week I find it is really hard to get back to my morning meeting with Jesus. 

It begins with a celebration, or baking a gift for someone, or thanking a friend for a present of goodies, and now I’m off track with my diet and I’m sluggish, slow, and brain fuzzed. 

It starts with giving myself permission to take the day off from exercising because I feel poorly, or I’m sore from the day before, or I have a big list of errands I want to get through. That day turns into the next and the next and now I want to get back on schedule, but it feels like I’m starting over again. 

It’s hard to stay on course for me and not get disheartened and bored. I know I feel better if I stick to consuming the things that keep me healthy, mind, soul, body. 

It seems I am learning the lesson over and over that we are what we consume.

Thank you FMF for the opportunity to share my thoughts!

Waste

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Waste of time

Wasting paper

What a waste

Don’t waste your talent

Is there such a thing as waste?

But so much was wasted

 

With God, nothing is wasted. He uses everything to work His will. When we throw something away, an item, a project, an encounter, a relationship, an experience, a skill, an opportunity, God uses that to grow us, to teach us, to recycle us, to hone us into the image of Jesus.

Thank you, God, for showing me what I wasted and how You used it, if that is Your will.

 

Thank you, Jesus, for waking me up to the possibilities. You are the Great Recycler!

 

 

Thank you to the FiveMinuteFriday community! You keep me writing!

Blessings on your day <<<o>>>