Mistakes and Clowns

Do you ever let a mistake weigh you down? Do you allow it to discourage you so much that you don't move forward?

Even if your mistake feels like its larger than life to you, it probably didn't take place in front of millions of people with no way to correct it at the moment.   

 

Look at the mistake - figure out what went wrong and why. Ask others for help, if needed.

Create a way to turn the mistake into a fun memory - maybe even find a clown to help you.

                           Photo from NBC.com

Congratulations Canada! 

Great job on the opening moments of the  
Olympic Closing Ceremony! 

There was a technical malfunction with one of the four legs of the torch during the opening ceremony 16 days ago - so they created a fun way to address it the closing ceremony. As the announcer poked fun at the issue, a clown came out, dramatically plugged the leg in and it rose perfectly. The crowd cheered, loving it.

What mistake can you overcome with a little creativity? Are you able to laugh at yourself and move on? 

Waiting ...

Waiting is hard! 

And we need to wait in many areas of our lives. 

“Between the wish and the thing life lies waiting.”

- Author Unknown

Some of the normal, mundane waits involve traffic lights, check-out lines and doctor's offices. These we do often, the waits are relatively short - so they don't usually cause great anxiety or stress. We expect these waits and handle them with patience. (and if you don't - you need to work on that, because you will have to contend with them for the rest of your life)

Some waits are just plain annoying - like the waiting that has to happen when trying to loss weight. Lack of waiting ability is what screws up most diets. Losing weight is a major waiting event! When you decide you want to get to a healthy weight - you monitor what you eat and you exercise. You do this for a few days and you feel so good/holy/successful about yourself - but then you're sick of it! All 10/20/50 pounds should be gone by now - gosh darn it! You are tried of waiting for this new eating plan to do its thing. The reality is - it will cause you to loss weight, if you can wait patiently, while sticking to the plan!

Other waits are scary - unlike weight loss, you aren't sure what the outcome will be at the end of the waiting time. This would include waiting on applications or test results - could be educational, employment or medical. This type of waiting sends you on a roller coaster. You want the waiting to be over. No, you don't want the waiting to be over - because living in the land of uncertainty might be better than the yes, no or maybe answer will be.

The waiting I'm in right now is somewhat in its own category. I'm waiting on a body to heal. I know bodies heal. I've seen and lived it for myself. But this time its not my own body I'm waiting on. It's my child's body that needs to heal. His trauma, injury, surgeries are in the past - now we wait. 

At nineteen, waiting on your body to heal is hard. At forty-four, seeing him have to wait is hard! He has a full life to live and right now it's reduced to eating, sleeping and resting. 

I know healing is affected by what we do - rest, medicines, exercise and food. It all plays a part - for better or for worse. When it's my own body healing, I can feel where that line is. When it's someone else, I can't. I can watch, monitor and assume, but ultimately I don't know exactly how he's feeling. So the poor guy is constantly having to answer my "how are you feeling" questions. I try to walk the line of caring mother, but not smother. I encourage him that healing will happen, he will not feel like this forever and things will get better.

As I hear what I'm saying to him, I'm reminded how interwoven waiting well and having the correct perspective is - in any kind of waiting. 

The mundane waits - the light will change, you will get to part with your money and the doctor will see you - why cause damage to yourself by stressing?

When losing weight - keeping the vision of a healthy body in mind makes the waiting easier. Knowing someday you can have a piece of chocolate again gives you strength to wait until that day and not blow your plan today. 

During the uncertain waits - correct perspective is critical. Being realistic about the fact that you could enjoy major bliss or suffer major disappointment is wise, but understanding that God will help you whatever the result helps make the waiting tolerable.

And when waiting for a body to heal - whether its your own or someone else, the correct perspective can help you have peace as you wait. Healing will happen and things will get better or as my mother often said, "This too shall pass." 
  

"When we have done our best, we should wait the result in peace." - Sir John Lubbock   

What type of waiting is hardest for you? What have you learned about waiting well? Would love to hear some tips!

Christmas Day is Over - How are You?

How are you ... now that Christmas day is over? 

Was it what you thought it would be? Better? Worse?

If it was worse and/or life isn't what you thought it would be - don't give up. 

Never give up!  

For the majority of the world, the season of Jesus' birth 2,000+ years ago was just another series of days. There was nothing special about it.

It was probably the same old, same old for most. 

They had no idea anything different happened. No idea about the hope that was born.  

 

If today is not good - if its the same old, same old dirt and you are sooo sick of it. Hang on - you don't know when or where hope will be born. 

If the people 2,000+ years ago paid attention - they eventually heard about the hope that was born. 

Hope is available for you also. 

Be aware - look - seek - knock - ask!

Look beyond the dirt ... and the familiar ... and the usual. Be prepared to be surprised. 

I took this picture in Austin, TX (Dec '08) at an event with about a hundred people. I watched for a time and no one else noticed this daisy right beside the pathway. Seeing it was one of my highlights of the day and I continue to experience hope from the memory of it. 

Be Aware!

You don't know when or where or how hope will come.

What unlikely spot have you find hope?

Hope raises its voice ...

Hope. Hope?

My hope is in the creator - the creator of the world and of you and me. There’s many mysteries I don’t have answers to (and to my surprise the list of mysteries and questions is increasing instead of decreasing) but I still have hope.
Without hope, it's impossible to keep going on this roller-coaster of life. Many days, I’ve lived on the thought that, "Tomorrow will be better than today" - that's hope. Hope in something I don't see, but I believe in.

                                                             The Hope of a New Day - Janet '09

I recently read these descriptions about hope. I love them and want to share them because I've had a health concern recently and cancer was on my mind, plus October is a month that most of us think about cancer more, since it’s National Breast Cancer Awareness Month.

In Erma Bombeck's book called “I Want to Grow Hair, I Want to Grow Up, I Want to Go to Boise - Children Surviving Cancer” - a group of kids who had cancer were asked to describe "hope" as if it were an animal. Here are a few of the responses: 

• Hope is about two and and half feet tall.
• He is covered with fur and it's fluffy.
• Hope giggles.
• When it talks, you're the only one who can hear it.
• Hope raises its voice sometimes ... to talk louder than fear.
• Occasionally, Hope is shy and likes to hide.
• If you don't take good care of it - it can die.
• It will come to you only when you need it.
• Hope has offsprings like any other animal. They're called 'Hopelets.' You don't keep them. You share them with other people who need one.

Kids can be profound. I found something in each of them that made me say, “Yes, that’s right!” I think my favorite is about Hope raising its voice to be louder than fear. After reading those kid’s descriptions, I wrote my own. My descriptions for hope are -

• Hope is as comfortable as a soft, fluffy blanket.
• Hope helps you breathe.
• Hope can be knowledge - such as: knowing broken bones heal.
• Hope is priceless.

Do you have hope? What does hope feel like to you? 
How would you describe hope?

(Edited and reposted)

Hope is ...

Without hope, it's almost impossible to keep going on this roller-coaster of life. Many days, I’ve lived on the thought that, "Tomorrow will be better than today" - that's hope. Hope in something I don't see, but I believe in.
I recently read these thoughts about hope. In Erma Bombeck's book called "I Want to Grow Hair, I Want to Grow Up, I Want to Go to Boise - Children Surviving Cancer," a group of kids who had cancer were asked to describe 'hope' as if it were an animal. Here are a few of the responses:

• "Hope is about two and an half feet tall."
• "He is covered with fur and it's fluffy."
• "Hope giggles."
• "When it talks, you're the only one who can hear it."
• "Hope raises its voice sometimes. It has to talk louder than fear."
• "Occasionally, Hope is shy and likes to hide."
• "If you don't take good care of it - it can die."
• "It will come to you only when you need it."
• "Hope has offsprings like any other animal. They're called 'Hopelets.' You don't keep them. You share them with other people who need one."

Kids can be profound. I found something in each of them that made me say, “Yes, that’s right!” I think my favorite is “Hope giggles.”
After reading those kid’s descriptions, I wrote my own. My descriptions for hope are -

• Hope is as comfortable as a soft, fluffy blanket.
• Hope helps you breathe.
• Hope can be knowledge - such as: knowing that broken bones heal.
• Hope is priceless.

How would you describe hope?

A Morning Like This ...

A morning like this has the potential to cure many ills, especially of the mind and spirit. Hopewell Lake is in French Creek State Park - this morning I watched the sun come up here. (a privilege owed to taking a son to work nearby at 5:30AM)

Walking at the lake’s edge, I discover I’m not the only early riser. There’s a unique joy in being there with others as the world wakes up. As the mist covering the lake evaporates, I watch three men set up cameras on tripods to try to capture this divinely created morning with man-made gadgets. As expensive as their equipment looks and as experienced as they seem (I overhear conversations about settings/numbers/exposure) I know their pictures won't be able to fully capture this morning at this place.

At the boat dock, a woman unloads her small fishing boat efficiently. After parking her truck and trailer, she gathers her supplies - fishing line, bait and cup of coffee. The surface of the water breaks only briefly as her electric motor pushes her quietly across the water.

“The best sunrise I’ve ever seen,” one of the photographers declares loudly, as if anyone there might be missing it. “I’ve set my camera to - blah, blah, blah.” Camera speak is a foreign language to me, but I’m sure the setting is the one he thinks will allow him to share the beauty of this sunrise with others not privileged to be there.

After staring in awe at the big orange ball climbing into the sky, I unload my bike, ready to involve my physical body in the morning. I planned to bike the local roads, but find myself not wanting to leave the lake and the park. I opt for a trail that allows glimpses of the water and circles around the lake to Hopewell Furnace - a nearby historical site. The roots and rocks of a few sections of the trail are more suited for hiking then biking, but with some pushes and lifts, I get my bike to the top. Biking through this restored "iron plantation" is worth the work.

The mist from the heavy dew lifting over the multiple layers of tree tops is peace - pure absolute peace. I hold my breath at the sight of three deer under apple trees in a stream of sunlight. I brake to get my phone to snap a picture, but they hear me and react. My chests hurts with beauty watching them run and leap away. The whites of their tails, their slender legs, the trees, the grass and the easy, effortless way they move - it’s beauty in motion.

After the ride - as the sun climbs into the clear sky, a shaded picnic table gives me a spot to write this. I watch a content kayaker fishing near the lake’s edge about thirty feet from me. His cigar smoke circles over his head and his relaxed manner shows he doesn’t have a care in the world at the moment. He watches with a smile as five geese come in for a landing nearby. They have perfect formation until a few feet from the water, then formation breaks as each lands at a different time or place.

It is a perfect morning - the birds are chirping, a slight breeze is stirring and the fragrance of nearby flowers drifts my way. (cliche intended) But real life intervenes and I almost jump at the sound of a weed-eater behind me. My perfect moment is the beginning of another workday for a park ranger and he has jobs to complete.

I prepare to return home, grateful for a morning like this - to help put the rest of life into proper perspective. The issues that seemed so big and overwhelming are reduced to a more manageable size. Life’s problems don’t disappear, but the intensity of them shrinks and I have hope again. Hope - not in me, not in mother earth, not in a person - but hope in the knowledge/feeling that it will be okay. I don’t know what okay means, but I know I like this feeling and I rest in the comfort that this feeling comes from the creator of all this beauty.

Finding Hope

I walk slowly along the edge of the Chesapeake Bay when the tide and my energy level are at their lowest. The desire to spend a day seeking God led to the decision to fast lunch and spend a few hours in quiet reflection. Now at three in the afternoon, I'm tired, hungry and want a nap. My spirit wants to connect with my creator in some meaningful way, but I have trouble convincing the rest of myself to cooperate.

At high tide, you can't walk along this particular area of the bay, but now at low tide there are a few feet of waterlogged sand exposed. Starting with the first step, my sneakers sink too low in the spongy sand. The air has the unpleasant scent of a swamp - the decay of plants, insects and fish, along with pockets of stale water here and there. The gnats are being their normal annoying selves and as they flit from plant to plant, they continuously bump into me.

My walk is slow and careful, as I step over all the creepy, crawly insects on the ground. I pause a second after stepping over a dead praying mantis. I realize that though I had seen many praying mantises over the years, I have never seen a dead one. Guess they have to die also, I reason to myself.

The ugly, straggly branches of a greedy plant force me to walk out nearer to the water's edge as it inconsiderately covers my path in its reach for the water. As I do this, I step over a small puddle of water that apparently missed the receding flow of the tide. More loss, this time a crab lays there dead. My mind sluggishly talks to God about this, why is there so much loss and sadness? It is so hard to have these obstacles, I tell him. Why do I have to keep walking over and around them? This kind of feels like my life recently, sadness due to loss and conditions that hound me every step of the way. With a muddled mind and hot, humid air surrounding me, I am ready to end this depressing walk.

But - a stubborn speck of resolve pushes me on. I want to get through this - ‘this’ being both this walk and the unwanted circumstances in my life. So half-heartedly, I continue while brushing tears from my eyes and watching more dirty sand collect on my previously white sneakers.

I round a slight bend and abruptly stop in both my physical and mental walk. There is a burst of beauty and color. Wild plants ramble through each other in a beautiful unkempt way - bulrushes, iris, hibiscus and trumpet vine. Butterflies gracefully hurry here and there, looking for the sweetest nectar. A dragonfly from an attractive family line pauses briefly on a leaf directly in front of me. The stark colors of his delicate wings shimmer in the afternoon sunlight that reflects off the still waters of the bay.

A spot of dry sand nearby allows me to sit down and soak in the beauty of it. This beauty and creativity feeds the sad places in me and fills me with hope. Seeing this vibrant, beautiful life, I recognize the truth that even when walking on difficult paths, there is beauty somewhere. These specks of clarity bring about a calm, peaceful state of mind. I find comfort and strength and know that by seeking the one who made it all, I will come to places where I find beauty and hope.

iHope

iHope is …
one woman telling her story
in a setting of creative beauty
with ongoing connections with other
women that are walking on a similar path.

“Guide me in your truth and teach me, God … my hope is in you all day long.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Tuesday, October 23rd at 7pm

The Gathering Place at Hopewell in Elverson, PA

Patti Kallal will be sharing …
“Finding God as my Father”
Hear Patti's story about growing up in a ‘fatherless’ home
and her journey to knowing and loving God as her father.

Music - Refreshments - Art

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This is an event happening at my church, that I'm involved with. Hope is essential to continue moving forward in life. I believe beauty, whether in the form of art, music or words can give hope to most anyone. Plus, our stories have so much to teach us ... both for the person sharing and the audience. Our goal is give hope by giving women an opportunity to share their story in a setting of beauty.