Father's Day

This year, Father's Day falls on the 19th of June. The 20th will be the 3 year anniversary of my Dad's passing. I miss him so. I know that we often magnify people in death, beyond what they really were in life, but, in my Dad's case, it just isn't true. He was some kinda wonderful. I'm thankful that I told him so regularly, when he was alive.

When he was alive, I spoke to him nearly every morning. As I drove to work, I'd dial him up and talk to him, about various things. When I made a sale, he was the first person I'd want to call, because I knew he genuinely shared my joy. He loved to hear stories about my work. Somedays we talked tomatoes- how many we'd each picked the night before, how big and how beautiful and tasty they were. He taught me how to grow tomatoes, you see. He was the master. Sometimes we'd talk about what was on his agenda for the day, or how I was doing at work. Other times he'd tell me how far he'd ridden on his stationary bike that morning. Before his ankles went bad, he used to take morning walks in his neighborhood and he'd tell me how that went.

He touched people wherever he went. Earlier this month, I received a letter in the mail from Angela. She was his waitress at the Early Bird Cafe, where he often went for breakfast. Three years later, out of the blue, she sends me a letter, telling me how blessed she was to have known him and how thankful she was that she did. Who does that? Someone who knew greatness, that's who.

He was a hard worker all of my life. He worked multiple jobs, seven days a week for most of my life. He never complained about not having a day off. Really. I cannot ever remember him complaining. He was up at the crack of dawn and didn't get home until long after dark. But, he did not complain. His first job was helping his dad in the corn fields of Iowa, picking corn and throwing it in a horse drawn wagon.

He had a variety of jobs throughout his life. He worked on the railroad as a brakeman. He collected scrap iron for pay, worked in a lumber mill, as a school janitor, owned his own janitorial service, drove a trash truck and ultimately became the head of maintenance for the Redondo Beach City School District before his retirement.

He was a happy man-a man content with his lot in life, with the blessings he'd been given. He was generous, sometimes to a fault. With his time, his money and his help. He was a helping hand to more people than I can count. Probably to far more than I even know. He was gentle and kind, and long suffering. He didn't expect much from people. He just cared for them and gave himself to them. He was, as a friend would say, "a soft place to land". He was the one who baked a pie for a neighbor, or fried and delivered chicken for his friend who had Alzheimer's and lived in an assisted living community where the food wasn't so good.

He was soft hearted. He loved babies. Loved his kids. Loved my mom. He could easily be brought to tears by simple kindness. The last time he visited my home, he walked into my kitchen, and upon seeing the new room we had built, his eyes filled with tears and his chin wobbled. I'll never forget that. I knew why. He was overwhelmed with pride and happiness for us. That's how he was-always wanting the best for us, and willing to sacrifice to help us get it.

When he was in the hospital, he knew what was coming. He talked to me about cleaning out his shed, and taking care of my mom and even about me getting a new car. He always thought I needed a new car, because I drive my cars for a decade or more, generally. He offered to help. I assured him my car was good and that there's was already money budgeted for a new one before long. It was important for him to know we'd all be taken care of. After he was gone, the shed got emptied. We bought a new car. And-as promised, I'm doing my best to take care of my mom, too. It was the last promise I made to him and I intend to keep it.

For more than half a century, I was blessed with a wonderful dad. I don't wallow in sadness because he is gone. I revel in my "good luck" to have had him for so long. I am grateful for the foundation he provided, the kindness he modeled, the work ethic he instilled and the tenacity he gave to every effort. He molded me. He blessed me. He loved me. Far more than I deserved. I am grateful. But-I still miss him--everyday.

Knowing You'll Be There - Gaither Vocal Band

Walking through the valley of the shadow of death...

Loss. Sorrow. Grief. In the last week or so, there have been numerous implosions of sadness around me. A high school friend sat at the bedside of her dying daughter who was buried today. A long time friend said goodbye to her father for the last time. Another friend, in Oregon, received a call this week notifying him that his mother had suddenly passed following a hip fracture. At this moment, my oldest and dearest friend's father lies in a hospital in Ohio, demanding to go home. When he does, hospice workers will accompany him in order to provide comfort measures for however much time he has left. I have two dear friends awaiting test results, knowing well the results could bring their worst fears or their greatest hopes. Another friend suffers a different kind of loss. The failure of hope, because someone she loves has disappointed her, again. Sadness comes in all shapes and sizes. One size does not fit all.

We cling so tightly to this life. Most likely when mine comes to an end, I too, will struggle to hold on in order to stay just a little bit longer. We have lives we love, people we don't want to leave behind. I am no exception, but, I do believe, in my heart of hearts, that when I have crossed over to my heavenly home, all the concerns that made me want to stay--the unfinished business, the hopes not yet realized, the goals not achieved, they will all pale in comparison to what I will know there as I sit at the feet of Jesus. We who walk this earth hold so tightly to dreams we want to see fulfilled. A child grown into a man. An education completed. A baby born. A wedding ceremony performed. A family at peace. These are the dreams we live for. They are worthy pursuits and when realized may bring unspeakable happiness. But they are imperfect dreams, and we who travel this planet, cannot conceive of dreams more precious, dreams more exquisite; dreams of heaven, perfect dreams realized.

When my own father was dying in a hospital, I, long before my siblings and my mother were able to acknowledge it, knew that the end was most assuredly near. I knew too much. It's not that sorrow didn't apply to me. It surely rocked my heart to the core. But, I didn't ask why. I know that the same God who gives, takes away. I know that there's never a good or right time. I acknowledge that it's easier to let go when a life has been long and well lived and more difficult when it's early- in what we see as an unfinished life. Still. I cling to the belief that life here is not life in it's entirety. There is more. I believe that as surely as I believe the sun will rise and fall everyday. I honestly don't believe anyone who has prepared for eternity by accepting Jesus' gift of salvation, has ever arrived in heaven and wanted to come back to this life. Heaven is richer, more beautiful and more joyous than our finite minds can grasp. One does not move from the ghetto to the palace and then ask to return the utter poverty they were rescued from.

The greatest sadness for me is not the loss of one's presence here on earth. That, because, I believe there is a life beyond. The greater sorrow is if that one has not prepared for the life beyond earth's borders. One's eternal destiny is the most important goal of all and one that requires our attention now, while we still have time to determine where we will spend it. A life lived only for pleasure and temporal things is a life ignorant of true meaning, a life cut short too soon, whether 16 or 96 years long. To share that truth with those who don't know, is a sacred and critical responsibility. The gift of God is eternal life, available to all who will believe. As one who has gratefully received that gift, I am responsible to share it with others as the Lord provides opportunity.

If you, dear reader, long to know what it is that gives me this hope--the hope that takes away death's sting, I long to share it with you. I cannot tell you you will not face sorrow. I cannot promise that. I still cry bitter tears. I still have a dread of life without those I love most. I still pray for healing and reconciliation and the end of pain. But, in the end, I know. I know that one day, on the other side, the pain will end, the tears will be wiped away and death will be no more. Because Jesus said so. And I believe it.

I do love this life I've been given. I truly do. I am blessed beyond anything I ever imagined. But, when my time comes, don't grieve for me. Don't call me back. I'll wait for you. Be there.

Gratitude: What's all the fuss about?

Decades ago, under the teaching of my Pastor, Zac, I was fortunate to learn the incalculable importance of having an attitude of gratitude. Since that time, it has become a core value in my life and in my daily walk through this world.

Clothed with a sense of gratitude, versus a sense of entitlement, I have come to recognize that without the foundation of thankfulness, I am doomed to the "then I'll be happy" syndrome... when I am out of school, when I can get back to school; when I am healthy, when I have more money, when I am through this trying situation, when I am married or when I am out of this marriage; when I get a new job or when I can stop working; when I have a child or when my children are grown; when I have a better place to live, when I have that new car, or position, or notoriety. You get the picture.

I sincerely believe, that until you grasp what it is to be thankful, you will most likely not experience what it is to be happy. Author, Speaker and Radio Host Dennis Prager first made me consider this in his book, "Happiness is a Serious Problem". His premise is that happy people make a better world and that gratitude is foundational to happiness. I concur. But, I think that gratitude is the more serious problem, not happiness. Grateful people are inherently happy people- pure and simple. If you aren't happy, you most likely don't recognize how much you have to be grateful for. There. I've said it. Sorry if you are offended, but, I stand firm in my conviction. If you don't believe me, ask Corrie Ten Boom or Joni Eareckson Tada or Viktor Frankl , all well known individuals who have suffered more than most of us will ever be called to. Ask my friend Tran, whose son was killed while stopping at the side of the road to help a stranded motorist or, Christianne who will likely spend the remaineder of this life in a wheelchair. Consider my cousins, Dona and Gene, who lost both their mom and their brother in tragic circumstances. Then, there's Cheryl, who lives with pain everyday of her life and my friend Pat, whose sweet Dad suffers from Alzheimer's Disease. Let's not even think of overlooking the the legions of people who have been deeply wounded by either family or friends they believed would never fail them.

Each of these I've mentioned are examples of the joy that comes from acknowledging a God who loves them and believing that He is in control...a God who gave all so that our failures could be forgiven. A God who promises "a future and a hope" (Jeremiah 29:11). That same God who urges us to "enter into His gates with Thanksgiving" and, in all things to "give thanks". These folks are real people who, in the midst of their suffering, choose to live their lives with an attitude of gratitude.

We are all wounded soldiers, aren't we? Some in our bodies, some in our spirits, but, we've all suffered pain and sorrow. Many of us have fallen short of what we hoped to become. All of us have known the disappointments of life. Some of us live with physical pain, others with emotional scars.

Too many of us believe that if the stars would just get aligned correctly, we would be better off. We would bask in the warmth of true contentment. Further, we're pretty sure that, we are just a slight shift in the universe away from being happy. The truth is that if we could truly grasp the wonderful truth that there is a God in Heaven, Who, by the way, really does have it all under control, we could then surrender our frustration, our anger, our disappointment and our fears. We would acknowledge that while we cannot see the future, He can. We could then focus on the good, in this moment. We could rest in the arms of a God we know has promised to work it all for our good. (Romans 8:28) Truth is, happiness is impossible without gratitude. From gratitude springs the ability to recognize that there is much to appreciate in the here and now.

May I challenge you, dear readers, to take on a practice I undertook may years ago?

It's so simple. You can do it. Begin and end each day with an attitude of gratitude.

That's it. Simple, right? There are many ways to make it happen.

For me, it means writing down and/or speaking to God the many things I am thankful for, in that moment, for that day. It may take some practice, but, I promise, it is a learned skill that get's easier with repetition. Yesterday, as I was anxiously anticipating oral surgery, I paused to thank God. Yes, I really did. I thanked him for the ability to have the surgery done, for a good periodontist to do the procedure, for his kind staff to set me at ease, for the funds to pay for the procedure and finally, for the many dear ones who had encouraged and prayed for me. As I gave thanks to the God who provided it all, I was filled peace and calm as I headed off to my appointment.

Gratitude. It's what's for breakfast...and lunch... and dinner. Then, you'll be happy!

Taking a Breath

See these two? My husband Mike and my daughter Amanda. Two of the most well organized, well ordered human beings on the planet. They thrive on order and I live in a constant state of chaos. How did we all end up together? I assume that God put them with me to keep me from spiraling out of control. What was in it from them? The strengthening of their patience muscles?

I have been working hard. Probably a little too hard. I am weary. When you're driving home and it's still daylight, and you walk through your back door before 6pm and your thought is, "This is how normal people live," it might be a sign that something's out of whack. Ya think???

I don't know when this affliction hit me. I worked for nearly 17 years in the same company and pretty much the entire time I was able to live like the normals. I maintained some semblance of order in my home. I worked Monday through Friday, pretty much 9 to 5 and only worked extra hours on rare occasions. There were the occasional projects, the infrequent business travel and the moments with impending deadlines. But, they were the exception. Now they are the rule. Why? And why, pray tell, do I create messes, literal messes, everywhere I go?

My husband playfully accuses me of "forgetting" to come home from work. I have never actively sought promotions...I've never been a "climber". I've never been obsessed with being "the" best, but, with being my best. Still, I've too often allowed myself to be talked into taking on more responsibility than I say I want. In doing so, I don't have time for the things in my life that I say are most important. What is that?

I often quote the old adage, "a good man knows his limitations," as my reason for not wanting to move higher up the ladder in my profession. I know what I'm good at and I know my failings. But, for the good of the teams I've been associated with, I've agreed, more than once, to take on responsibilities that have driven me to my knees. Is that the point? I don't know. I just know I'm tired and that I want to balance this teeter-totter out.

I have long struggled with balance. I work so long and so hard that I am too tired to go to the gym, or leave too late to get to a class. I end up eating on the run more often than not and then, eating what is expedient vs what is healthy and might take some preparation. I am looking at my dresser right now and it is covered with paperwork needing to be filed, magazines and books waiting to be read and bills waiting to be paid. There are clothes waiting to be hung up, shoes on the floor and a pile of laundry waiting to be taken downstairs to be washed. A state of disarray. It's a wonder Mike doesn't completely lose his mind. UGH.

I wrestle with order and balance and consistency and it's getting on my last nerve. Why is it that I cannot leave work on time? Why is it that some people create order and others create chaos? Don't get me wrong, I am able to get things done. Lots of them. I love my work. I love my family. I have a happy home. I am active in my church and I have more friends than I deserve or have time to keep up with. But, it is all in the context of my always fighting the chaos and longing for the order that others seem to come by so effortlessly. Is this the "Tyranny of the Urgent" lived out?... A life where all the urgent things get done and as a result, many of the truly important ones do not? Am I so wrapped up in the pressing issues of the day that I am missing what has lasting value?

As I've been focusing on spending money more wisely the last few months, I've flexed the muscles of self-discipline and have grown in the area of self-control as it pertains to spending. At my small group last week, someone noted that when we grow in self-control in one area, it generally will spill over into others as well. I can only hope. Sometimes I fear I am genetically wired to be a mess. My mother has many of the same struggles and has never been able to gain control over them. It makes me want to set a match to the stuff and start fresh!

Making the problem more obvious, my coworker never leaves at the end of the day without her desk being completely clear. Mine looks like a cyclone came through. At home, my husband is a creature of habit and never leaves anything out of place. My daughter and one of my sisters are both so organized that I've suggested they become professional organizers. I'm not sure how I missed that boat, and I really want to be on it.

Perhaps as I've chosen to be mindful about my spending, and accountable to my readers, I can obtain a greater measure of control in this this area, too. I've read all the books, all the hot tips. And like diets, they all work, when you work them. It's that consistency thing where I lose it. Maybe you've got some wisdom to share. . Maybe you can share ways you've fought these same demons and overcome. I am teetering on the edge of despair and could use some hope. Do you have some to share?

Shall We Pray?

The last couple of weeks we have been bombarded by images almost too awful for our little minds to comprehend. Earthquakes in Christchurch, New Zealand and now the devastation of an even larger one in Japan. In a time where every moment in every corner of the world can be instantly and forever captured by a phone or a camera and shared with the world in seconds via the Internet, little is left to our imaginations.

Who can ever forget the footage in Japan-the quake and tsunami that followed? The river of water racing across dry land, covering towns and fields and communities, taking with it untold lives, cars, buildings and homes. Entire homes! Last I heard, there were four complete trains missing, swept away into what? It's the Wizard of Oz on crack. There will be no Oz and there will be no going back to Kansas by the click of ruby slippers. Hundreds are missing and the count is rising every hour. Our hearts are heavy with each new piece of information we take in, each new photograph or video brings further sorrow.

Meanwhile, we sit in our comfortable homes and carry on with our lives. Soccer games, shopping, going out to lunch. A trip to the gym, reading mail. What are we to do? What should we do? What would God have us to do? Maybe we need to stop and ask. And then, we actually need to do something. Too often we stop short of the action that is so needed and which is the very act of obedience that He is forever calling us to.

Some can give. To the Salvation Army, or the Red Cross or World Vision or other reputable organizations on the ground already who will put your donations to good use. I was able to go online and make a donation in less than 90 seconds without ever having to leave my home. I just felt compelled to do something and that was the start. Each of us can pray. Wherever we are, whatever our lot, we can pray, today, for the people whose lives have literally been swept away in a few minutes of absolute terror. We so often overlook this most valuable act which costs us nothing but a moment of time. We throw our hands up, frustrated at our helplessness, overlooking the most valuable offering of all, prayer, for those in need. It is the most precious support we can give.

In the days ahead, the images appear with less frequency and the news will spend less time on the events we are now seeing every time the TV is turned on. The news cycle will go on to something more current and more titillating. For now, use the images for good. Each time you see one, make it your aim to take that moment to pray for the people who so need us to lift them up to the Father. Good can only come from this horrible catastrophe if we as a people will rise up and cry out to the God who can do what we are unable to. Our resources are too limited and the distance too great, but we serve a God who is able to do far more than we can even imagine. When we pray. So, I challenge you to pray. Pray for:

~Revival for the hearts and souls of the people of Japan. That they would know the peace that comes from knowing the Saviour, even in the midst of devastation.

~The physical needs for food, water and shelter.

~An astounding outpouring of generosity from those of us who can afford to give, that we would be compelled to give above and beyond what we think we can.

~The reunion of families torn apart

~That our hearts and minds would not forget, that our prayers would not be just today when the images are freshly imprinted on our minds, but, in the weeks and months ahead.

~For the workers there who will serve those whose lives have been shaken to their cores. Give them strength and faith and the resources they need to help those in need.

~For opportunities to share the Gospel with others here, who are scared by these horrific events and shaken to their cores.

We are told in Hebrews 4:16 to "...come boldly before the throne of grace, that we may obtain mercy and find grace to help in time of need." Let this be our mission. To ask, and then to act. Hearts and minds and lives depend on it. Please join me in this mission, here, wherever you are. I'd be grateful if you would. More importantly, God will be honored and He will act. Be a part of something world changing. This moment.

The Know Spend Zone

Yes, it has been over a month since I posted last. I temporarily took on some additional responsibilities at work which have left me with virtually zero free time in the last 5 weeks. The good news on that front is that as of Monday, reinforcements are on the way and no one is more grateful than I.

Working extra hours has certainly helped in my quest to spend less, spend what I do with full awareness and give more more willingly. It's like a God given restraint. When you don't have time to take a lunch, you certainly aren't going to spend money on it. When you leave work long after the sun has set and when the stores are nearing closing time, the danger of spending at all is lessened. When you arrive home to a stack of mail you are too bleary eyed to spend much time on, it's a lot easier to toss the catalogues from favorite retailers without so much as a glance.

All that to say, I am still on my quest to spend less and be more aware when I do part with my money. Thanks to the aforementioned circumstances, it's actually been something of a breeze lately. But, to quote an old platitude, "God isn't finished with me yet." Just when you think you're handling something pretty well, you get taken to the next level and things start heating up again. Hence, the great, green wallet scenario unfolds.

A week ago last Friday we went to church. I opened my purse and removed my wallet to take out a check for the offering. I re zipped my purse and then I placed my wallet on top of it. I had a momentary thought that I should put it back inside immediately but, quashed the idea and there it stayed. An hour or so later, services ended and we got up to go home. I grabbed my purse and we were off. If wasn't until much later that night I realized my wallet never made it home.

I mused to Mike the next morning, that if you're going to lose a wallet, a church is the best possible place to do so. This despite my knowing that a stranger to our congregation entered our building a few months ago, ripped an offering box off the wall and made off with it's contents lickety split. I was still pretty confident it would show up. I called my friend, the always helpful Nancy, who intervened and was able to reach one of the stewards at our church building. I drove there and was met by Roy, a steward who is also deaf. The sad expression on his face and his shaking head made it very clear that the wallet was gone.

My beautiful, soft, classic emerald green wallet, gleefully found on a sale table at Nordstrom many months ago, was gone forever. That along with sixty dollars in cash, ATM cards, credit cards, my driver's license, a thirteen dollar Ralph's voucher and two full Pinkberry punch cards. All MIA. Ugh.

Do you find it as interesting as I do how God makes sure we hear what He has to tell us? I begin a new year quest to spend less, give more and be a better steward of what God has given me. Next, I'm preparing to lead a small group of young women in a study on money. Then, my wallet disappears. As Alannis Morrisette said, "Isn't it Ironic?". Yes it is. But, more to the point, what I refer to as a divine co-inky-dink.

As I've prepared for our small group study, I've been reminded that money is not the root of all evil, as the scripture is often misquoted. 1 Timothy 6:10 actually says, "..the love of money is a root of all kinds of evil..." The truth is, my attitude about my money is more important than how little or how much I have. Larry Burkett, in his workbook, "How to Manage Your Money" suggests we USE things, LOVE people and SERVE God. I hate to admit it, but, sometimes I get that a little confused. Too often, I love and serve things that were meant to be used. Sometimes I use people when I should be loving and serving them. You get the picture.

Losing a wallet is really no big deal. Even a pretty green one I really liked. It's an inconvenience but it's not the end of the world. No tears were shed, except for the sad individual who is so miserable that they'd go to such lengths for a relatively small amount of money. What a sorrowful thought that is. But, I'm thinking it's just as sad if I'm working too much and hence not having the time and energy to serve God by loving people. If I work to provide things I can use to serve and love, I'm on the right track, but, it's a tricky road.

I'm still learning, still stretching and still trying to spend less, give more, and spend with KNOWLEDGE-fully cognizant of how I'm using my resources, and, to what end.
I haven't had a mani-pedi in nearly three months. I'm using generic products more often and have discovered some of them are more than adequate at lesser prices. I actually bought Folger's coffee last week instead of my usual Starbucks brand. (I know-I'm a bit spoiled) I'm not saying that all of these changes will stick for life, but, I am in a constant state of recognition that I should really know exactly how I'm spending the money I give so much time and effort to earn.

There's the challenge. The KNOW spend zone. Get in it.