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Showing posts from November, 2011

Thankfulness and Thanksgiving

I think thankfulness is one of those feelings that can be as small and brief as a nano-second and as broad as the universe. But for me, it's some of the following:

I'm thankful that I can hear. Years ago at a conference I heard that the loss of hearing was more devastating than the loss of sight because blindness cut you off from things, but the lack of hearing cuts you off from people. I can't imaging not being able to see and drive around and see the beauty of the world but what a loss it would be to miss out on hearing the first coo and sigh of your new baby, the first mama or dada. And nothing beats the sound of a baby or toddler laughing. You can't help but laugh with them! To hear great music, the sound of water in a brook, the echoes in a canyon. They are amazing! Plus, how tender to hear the words, "I love you," from someone you love, too.

I'm thankful for family. My family is dysfunctional, loud, crazy, disorganized and generally nuts. But they a…

How Do You Know?

One of my favorite songs in the movie "Enchanted" is titled, "How Do You Know?" That title says more than is apparently obvious. How do we know if someone is loving? Compassionate? Caring? Has strong belief systems? Is it by a statement or creed that "I have this or that," or by wht they do? This has historically been a great topic in dividing different religious doctrines. Faith vs. works. However, how do we know someone has faith if they don't act it out--do the works? Anyone can open their mouths and say, "I feel..., I love..., I believe... Does that really mean it is true? What would happen if everyone you care about and states they care for you couldn't speak and never had been able to speak? How would you know that person cares for you? How would you know what they believe in? and so forth?

For example: one of the first examples that my hubby is a caring/compassionate person was very early in our dating stage. I had just completed a pa…

Time in a Bottle

What an interesting title to an old Jim Croce song. But it leads me to think about what it would be like if we could stop time. As I get older and I see time marching across my face (to quote a line from "Steel Magnolias"), I sometimes wish I could stop time. On deeper analysis would I really want that? Would any of us want that?

When we are young, we can't wait to grow up and do "grown up" things like staying up later to watch a movie, driving a car, etc. Then we want to live on our own and not have to go by our parents' rules.

When we have children everything changes; it is a pivot point in life. I can remember thinking at each stage of their development, "Oh, if I could stop time right now. I love how cute they are, or the things they are doing, etc." But time keeps moving like the wind. Before long each kid started school and the letting go really begins and time flies even faster. Again, I found myself saying, "Oh, I want time to stop. I…

Sometimes "things" mean something

No "thing" is as important as a person or a life. I know that in my heart and yet sometimes it is painful when a "thing" is broken or lost.

I have moved and packed our stuff numerous times and am , if I have to say so for myself, a good packer. In all the moves in the last 20 years or so, I have only broken 2 or 3 things. Several years ago it was a teapot from my maternal grandmother. I was sick about it since it was the only thing I had of hers. Many moves I haven't broken anything. I meticulously wrap stuff in lots of paper, bubble wrap, peanuts and any other stuff I can find for cushioning. Each move while I'm unwrapping I breathe a sigh of relief when everything comes out fine.

Last night I was unpacking stuff from our most recent move. In one box every single mug and cup was broken. Most had the handles broken off and others were crushed. In another box several beautiful and delicate pieces of crystal from Don's mother bit the dust. The only ones o…

St. Francis of Assissi had a good idea

St. Francis took a vow of poverty. He owned nothing; even his monk's robe was borrowed. When he moved from place to place, it was pretty easy. Put on your borrowed shoes and robe and go. I definitely think he was brilliant in this idea of not owning anything because he never had to move anything.

With every move I make one thing begins to dominate my thinking and that is to identify how much stuff I have and it's not a pretty picture. I fantasize about giving it all to charity and then move on to my next location. I don't think anyone appreciates how much stuff is accumulated until you have to start packing it up and moving it.

Every time I have moved over the last 20 years, and primarily the last 10 years, I have taken stuff and donated it to charity. Now I'm not talking about a grocery sack of stuff. No, sirree! I'm talking carloads of stuff. Don and I moved to Chadron in November of 2008 and left in June 2010. That's only 20 months and yet we hauled multiple…