A Change of Heart

     " I am never coming here again," I informed my husband.  We were visiting relatives for the holidays.  I overheard some angry, alcohol infused comments about our visit.  In that moment, I was full of anger for myself and hurt for my husband.  Righteous anger becomes almost delicious; you are hurt and you feed your anger to keep it alive.  Unfortunately, I am an expert on delicious anger.  I managed to maintain my no visit policy for 5 years.  Then something changed my heart:  My love for my son.

My son makes me want to be a better person

    My attachment to anger kept my son from his extended family.   Proverbs 10:12 states, "Hatred stirs up dissension, but love covers over all wrongs."  There are no Biblical pronouncements that encourage nurturing your anger or holding grudges.  On the contrary, Christ himself spoke at length on the topic of loving your enemies.  A recent reading of Luke  6:32 addressed me directly:  "If you love those who love you, what credit is that to you? Even 'sinners' love those who love them."  Ouch!  Following Jesus is much easier to chat about and write about than to carry out.  I agreed to a visit but with some parameters for success.

     First, our visit would be a short 4 days.  When we left,  folks would still be glad we came. Next, we would stay with different family this time.  We would be close enough to visit folks, but we could take a break if needed.  Finally, we drove our own car so we would not impose on anyone and could depart when we liked.  With theses parameters in place, we were set for a successful visit and that is exactly what happened.

     When we arrived, family ran to greet us.   They were so happy to see us.  I felt some ice slip off my heart.  My son had long conversations with his grandfather.  He played games with his favorite cousin.  His grandma cooked for him; he ate like a king.  His uncle told him police stories.  I read my book and  made polite conversation.  I learned that anger, even justified anger, can be selfish.  I want my son to make family connections.  I want him to know that none of us is perfect, but that we can love perfectly. 

     Following God's will is uncomfortable.  It brings me face to face with parts of myself that I would rather hide.  The success of this visit had nothing to do with my strength and everything to do with my weakness.  If His power is made perfect in my weakness, then my weakness is a welcome  gift.  I prayed for grace before and during our trip.  My prayers were answered ten times over.  As I listened to my mother-in-law talk about reconciliation with her long estranged sister, my heart completely softened.  I was truly glad for them. 

     When the New Testament talks of treasure, it specifically addresses money and worldly goods.  Treasure is also the riches of your heart.  I wanted to nourish my hurt, harden my heart and not participate in any type of healing.  God had other plans.   When we were leaving, my mother-in-law said, " Thank you for coming back."  Those words were a balm to my soul.  I am grateful that my love for my son pulled me out of myself and into a new space.  Now,  I could  receive her words and open my heart.

     

Even Hummingbirds Meditate

     Hummingbirds have very high metabolisms and are incredible flyers.  To stoke their super metabolisms, they eat often.  Their diet consists of  insects and nectar.  These behaviors are easily seen by the casual observer, but the hummingbirds ability to slow its metabolism at rest, torpor, is their best kept secret.
     According to World of Hummingbirds.com,http://www.worldofhummingbirds.com/sleep.php, the hummingbird finds a comfortable roost and commences a type of hibernation.  The bird can lower its metabolism to 1/15 of normal.  An active hummingbird's heart can beat as much as 1200 times per minute.  By contrast, in torpor the little bird lowers its heart rate to around 50 beats per minute.   Breathing slows dramatically as well.  In this way, hummingbirds are able to achieve the deep restoration that they need for survival.  Hummingbirds enter torpor because of their survival instinct,  but humans can choose to enter a meditative state at any time.
      The benefits of  a regular meditation practice are cumulative, but meditation can also be used as an on the spot tool.  This morning I had routine outpatient surgery; I used 20 minutes of meditation to still my mind and calm my pulse rate. It works.
     The web site, I Need Motivation, lists 100 physiological and psychological benefits of meditation.  Some physiological benefits include:  1) lower oxygen consumption 2) decreased respiratory rate 3) increased blood flow and slowed heart rate 4) reduction in anxiety due to lower levels of blood lactate and 5) improved immunity.  If you would like a more formal, informative article on various methods of meditation and how to begin, check this Mayo clinic link: http://www.mayoclinic.com/health/meditation/HQ01070/NSECTIONGROUP=2  Finally, The American Mind and Body Institute in Boston has done scholarly and trailblazing research into meditation for 40 years.  Recent work has used the MRI to view the physiological changes that occur during meditation.  You can review a plethora of information at http://www.massgeneral.org/search.aspx?q=mri+meditation&st=0&x=24&y=16.
    Meditation has psychological, physiological and even spiritual benefits.  An unknown author once said,  "Prayer is talking to God, while meditation is listening."   Everyone can benefit from a little more listening.  Be blessed.
   
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God Spoke To Me In Walmart

Faith the size of one mustard seed is enough

     I am worried about money.  I try not to think about it, but when I do, well, I can become quite distraught.  Today I went to Walmart in this anxious frame of mind.
     I got a few things.  Yogurt, fruit and the like. Oh and a few birthday cards.  It's close to payday and I just wanted to use the cash I had in my purse.  The cashier rang up my items.  The total? $66.59.  I looked in my purse and counted out my bills and change.  I had $66.59 exactly.  That's when I  "heard" a message just for me:   My worry is not productive.  "Who of you by worrying can add a single hour to his life?" (Matthew 6:27)  Over the last year, I have tried tell God how my life should be and what I need.  Here's a shocker:  He already knows.
      What does God need from me?  God needs me to be a good steward of the talent and treasure he has given me.  He would like to see me walk on faith.  It does not even have to be a steady or lovely walk.  When it comes to faith walking,  I am hoping there are merit points for starting at all.  God knows that I have gotten off the path, sat down on the path, asked for a new path and had unsightly fits on the path.  Yet, if what we read about the Almighty is true, "He is faithful and just and will forgive us our sins...." (1 John:9)
       So I am counting on Psalm 40:  "I waited patiently for the Lord; he turned to me and heard my cry.  He lifted me out of the slimy pit, out of the mud and mire; he set my feet on a rock and gave me a firm place to stand."  So I am going to stand on the rock and clutch my mustard seed of faith.  I believe that's just enough.  Join me?

Father's Day: What the Heart Can Carry

    It was an unusually cool summer morning in Georgia. The air was not humid and there was even a breeze.  I going to travel from Columbus to Atlanta to spend the weekend with my family, but the phone rang and my world changed.  My Dad had a massive heart attack while playing tennis.  His friends tried to revive him, but he was already gone.  Nine years have passed, but when I think of that morning, I still cry.  Arguments may be temporary, but death is permanent and unyielding.  Whatever your relationship is at the moment of death, that's how it stays.  There is no chance to be compassionate, no chance to be the bigger person and no chance to say, "I love you."   When I reflect on Father's Day, I see three different stages in my relationship to my Dad:  idealistic, critical and compassionate.
     The idealistic phase is probably my favorite.  In the photo below, I am in the beginning of this phase.  My Dad was bigger and stronger than me.  He was funny and made me laugh a lot.  This perception lasted well into grade school.

My hair still looks like this in the morning.

      As I got older, I saw my Dad's flaws.  He drank too much.  He could be selfish and lazy.  As I approached middle school and high school, I lost sight of his  kindness and humor.  I focused only on his inadequacies.  This stage lasted well into adulthood.  I was disappointed.  He was not the father I wanted him to be. 
     In my early forties, I got a tip from one of my sisters.  She said that praying for Dad helped her.  I felt the rightness of this in my heart.  I began praying for him and actively being patient.  Guess what?  These simple steps made a difference. I began to see him with more compassion and less judgement.   The very week before he died, my son and I went out to dinner with Dad.  We had a lovely time and I remember seeing Dad as vulnerable person needing love rather than a disappointing Dad.
    People are imperfect, but their love for us is often perfect and pure.  Our loved ones may not express their love in ways that make sense to us.  They love us as they are.  God loves us even though He knows all about us.  We can at least try to love others despite our own imperfections, and theirs.  It was a long road from idealism to compassion, but the journey was so worthy.  When I was little, my Dad held me safe against his heart.  Today, I carry his goodness and humor in MY heart. 
          

Just Like a Geranium

    It's spring in the mountains of Utah.  Yesterday I spent the afternoon planting flowers.  It was 79 F,  sunny,  and heavenly.   Spring and summer are God's gifts for weathering the winter months.   No more shoveling, no more scraping and no more warming up the car.  It was time for a change and I am grateful.
     I have some window boxes along the side of the house.  I decided to fill them with geraniums.  Geraniums are fairly hardy and can weather the cool evenings.  I chose white, coral and light pink.  Before I transferred the flowers, I pulled the dead blooms and leaves off.  When you pull the dead bits off, the water and nutrition is channeled to the core of the plant; the plant is healthier and more vibrant.  I planted them and gave them some transplant food.  It was peaceful sitting in the grass working with the flowers.  When the trees rustled in the breeze, it reminded me of the talking trees in C.S. Lewis' Narnia.  I always feel closer to God when I'm outside in nature.  I began thinking about the ways He has trimmed my dead leaves and helped me grow this year.

I am no different than my geraniums

Freshly trimmed and planted geraniums

     In John 15, Jesus says, "I am the true vine and my Father is the Gardener.  He cuts off every branch in me that bears no fruit, while every branch that does bear fruit he prunes so that it will be even more fruitful."  This year has been one of  rigorous pruning.  Instead of having extra, we have learned to cut back and live on my husband's pension.  Though difficult to admit, I was in serious need of a pruning in the area of material goods and money.  Many things I thought I "needed" were merely things I wanted.
      The Lord meets us where we are.  He gives us the right challenges at the perfect time.  In areas where I was already strong, I became even more so.  I seemed to have more patience for my teenager than I ever thought possible.  The "fruit" I bore in this area increased tenfold in my son's growing independence and kindness.  My heart overflows with gratitude for God's grace.   Psalms 119: 105 reminds me " Your word is a lamp to my feet and a light for my path."  I am pruned and back on my path.   Be blessed.  

Love Thy Neighbor or At Least Wave

     Apparently I have offended the neighbors.  They tell my husband that they wave at me all the time and that I never wave back.  Yikes!  I have never seen them wave.  I in no way meant any disrespect or rudeness.  This last year has found me consumed by a personal vortex of unemployment, seasonal employment and teenage angst.  I have used every ounce of strength and creativity that God gave me to remain operational.  Honestly, there have been days where I looked down and was surprised that I had clothes on; I simply didn't remember that part of the day.
     While it pains me to realize that people feel snubbed, I do not feel compelled to explain myself or my circumstances.  In today's world of reality television, people are voyeurs of others' pain, heartache and troubles.  Nonsense.  I'll use tissues for my issues and keep my life private, thank you.  Happily, there's a lesson in this little drama.

Don't be like me.  Stop and smell the flowers, and pay attention to your surroundings.

     Henceforth, when a friend doesn't return my call immediately or respond in a way that I deem appropriate, I will step back and say, " Hmm. Maybe they have stuff going on or are distracted."  I will be more mindful that everything is not about me.  It's a beautiful day in the neighborhood and I do love my neighbors, but for pity's sake, I'm just human.  Please cut me some slack.

Spring is lovely in Silver Creek

A Hat, A Purse and An Attitude

    My sister sent me this photo.  From the left, it's my cousin Regina, yours truly and my Aunt Adria.  It's the mid 1960s and we are going to church.  There was a time when every proper woman, no matter how small, wore a hat to church.  My Mom wore a gorgeous lace mantilla to Mass.  I had a lace tortilla thing that I wore when I was school aged.  Though the fashion is captivating, it's my attitude in the photo that caught my eye.
     Regina is rubbing her shoe on the sidewalk, doing what she pleases.  Adria is posed perfectly and looks great.   Me?  I am fulfilling the requirement, but openly hostile.  I am not smiling. My gaze is out of the photo, not trained on the photographer.  My facial expression makes me laugh more than the little purse.  ( What does a  three year old carry in her purse anyway?)  My expression says "I am barely tolerating this nonsense and pretty soon somebody is gonna get their butt kicked."  I am no different today, except that I have learned to hide my distaste under a veneer of civility.  It doesn't mean I have become more patient.  It doesn't mean I have become more kind.  It simply means that I've learned to get along in society.  But there's a bigger revelation:  God has known me all along.
      He knows where I started.  He knows my attitude.  Heck, he even knew there was nothing in that little pocketbook!   He also knew there was some goodness in my heart.  He took my weaknesses and  molded them into strengths for the good of others and myself.  He took that sassy attitude and poured it into advocacy for mental health.  His grace channeled my selfishness away from my own desires to the greater good of a constantly moving military family.  To this day, my absolute stubbornness (along with a generous serving of grace) sustains  me through illness and uncertainty.  This is no small feat.
     Isaiah 64:8  reads "We are the clay, you are the potter; we are all the work of your hand."  Upon reflection, I see that God uses our very weakness to make something beautiful.  As the Lord said to Paul  "My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness."   For my part, sometimes I feel that the Lord has a wealth of material in me.  Maybe that's not as damning as it sounds. It means he can use my weakness for His greater purpose.   We are all works in progress.  An imperfection in the glaze doesn't make us useless.  It makes us wonderfully human.  Be you and be grateful.