I carry lists in my head.
For quite a while they have been lists focused on really important stuff. What's God speaking into my heart? What does my family need? I carried what my staff needed, what my volunteers needed. I even carried thoughts on what could benefit my community. And of course ideas on world peace.
You know the big stuff.
It was a lot to carry around in my head. Even more for the weight it placed on my heart.
But I find myself with a bit of time to de-clutter. To unload. To lean on rather than necessarily be leaned upon. It's a bit disconcerting but not really in a bad way.
Wading through the quagmire, I find time to be quiet. To listen. To notice who sticks and who doesn't. To contemplate trust and confidence and truth.
And I find myself on the path to start different lists. Rows and lines of what God is whispering. What would comfort my family? Where do I perform at my highest potential? Who would I like to be around in work and leisure? How can I be as cool as one of my local heroes?
I know I have been given a gift - maybe in the form of a challenge - but a gift non-the-less. I noticed. No additional two by fours needed.
Oh and just for the record...world peace is still on the list.
Tuesday, January 31, 2012
Friday, January 27, 2012
True That
Truisms of the moment...
1. Stick to truth even when it's not always pretty, perfect and can easily be skewed.
2. Glance back fondly and then quickly re-focus forward.
3. Don't stop forgiving yourself and others and offer grace even when not reciprocated.
4. You can't change made-up minds in the moment... and there likely will come a time when you don't really mind that you can't.
5. Absolutely play favorites with those who love excellence and embrace positive change... and encourage as many as you can to join the favorites team.
6. Hindsight and side-line-sights often offer distinctly different views in the moment. Real life doesn't come with a challenge call and a rewind button to see the play in motion. So take the perspective, learn from it and keep playing. (my husband would appreciate that sports analogy)
7. It's nice to have folks who absolutely know your character (flaws and all) and still take the option to like you! It just might surprise you who falls into that bucket when push comes to shove.
8. Early embracing of the idea of change doesn't mean everyone will have the strength to push through the work required to actually get there. Change is messy.
9. Lean into people who pray with and for you.
10. Never. Ever. Stop learning.
1. Stick to truth even when it's not always pretty, perfect and can easily be skewed.
2. Glance back fondly and then quickly re-focus forward.
3. Don't stop forgiving yourself and others and offer grace even when not reciprocated.
4. You can't change made-up minds in the moment... and there likely will come a time when you don't really mind that you can't.
5. Absolutely play favorites with those who love excellence and embrace positive change... and encourage as many as you can to join the favorites team.
6. Hindsight and side-line-sights often offer distinctly different views in the moment. Real life doesn't come with a challenge call and a rewind button to see the play in motion. So take the perspective, learn from it and keep playing. (my husband would appreciate that sports analogy)
7. It's nice to have folks who absolutely know your character (flaws and all) and still take the option to like you! It just might surprise you who falls into that bucket when push comes to shove.
8. Early embracing of the idea of change doesn't mean everyone will have the strength to push through the work required to actually get there. Change is messy.
9. Lean into people who pray with and for you.
10. Never. Ever. Stop learning.
Thursday, January 26, 2012
Remind Me Who I Am
I have become friends lately with the unexpected and uncontrollable. Not good friends mind you, but friends. We've walked hand and hand. I've been tugged along. And today I was plain drug behind a moving proverbial truck - dusty, soiled, raw.
Jason Gray has an amazing song that speaks to my heart today and the path I and my new pals self-doubt and sorrow share. Here are a couple of the verses...
"When I lose my way and I forget my name,remind me who I am.
In the mirror all I see is who I don't wanna be; remind me who I am.
In the loneliest places,when I can't remember what grace is.
Tell me once again who I am to you. Who I am to you. Tell me must I forget who I am to you. That I belong to you. To you.
When my heart is like a stone, and I'm running far from home, remind me who I am.
When I can't receive your love, afraid I'll never be enough, remind me who I am.
If I'm your beloved,can you help me believe it..."
LOVE THAT SONG.
Holding on with all my might. Today I am earning the blog title of "recalibrated by grace, living in gratitude."
So glad my awesome God knows I am on this path and has a plan for me to prosper and not to fail.
Jason Gray has an amazing song that speaks to my heart today and the path I and my new pals self-doubt and sorrow share. Here are a couple of the verses...
"When I lose my way and I forget my name,remind me who I am.
In the mirror all I see is who I don't wanna be; remind me who I am.
In the loneliest places,when I can't remember what grace is.
Tell me once again who I am to you. Who I am to you. Tell me must I forget who I am to you. That I belong to you. To you.
When my heart is like a stone, and I'm running far from home, remind me who I am.
When I can't receive your love, afraid I'll never be enough, remind me who I am.
If I'm your beloved,can you help me believe it..."
LOVE THAT SONG.
Holding on with all my might. Today I am earning the blog title of "recalibrated by grace, living in gratitude."
So glad my awesome God knows I am on this path and has a plan for me to prosper and not to fail.
Wednesday, January 11, 2012
One Breath. One Step.
Running along the barren corn and bean fields this morning, I had to keep psyching myself up. Feeling overwhelmed, tired... out into the cold air to shake it off.
Peace did not come easily.
I wrestled with my thoughts and memories. Tangled in realities and dreams as if they were in step with me under the gray skies.
One breath. One step. It became my mantra.
Clear my head only to find floods of thoughts seeping back in.
One breath. A flash of sitting with my dad as he took his last exhale. The moment sealed forever in the recesses of my mind. Not one single regret or fear of words unspoken.
One step. Remembering my other dad driving me away from a bad relationship, telling me time heals. Wisdom earned. Lesson lost and relearned with equal patience.
One breath. Late night calls of loss that knock the initial breath away. A brother. A grandfather. Others who came and went but left a mark.
One step. Generational shuffling. Who's watching out for whom? Those cared for become the caretakers.
One breath. One step. A thousand images hitting the pavement. Laughter and tears intertwined. No order.
They land in tempo. Spent.
Peace did not come easily.
I wrestled with my thoughts and memories. Tangled in realities and dreams as if they were in step with me under the gray skies.
One breath. One step. It became my mantra.
Clear my head only to find floods of thoughts seeping back in.
One breath. A flash of sitting with my dad as he took his last exhale. The moment sealed forever in the recesses of my mind. Not one single regret or fear of words unspoken.
One step. Remembering my other dad driving me away from a bad relationship, telling me time heals. Wisdom earned. Lesson lost and relearned with equal patience.
One breath. Late night calls of loss that knock the initial breath away. A brother. A grandfather. Others who came and went but left a mark.
One step. Generational shuffling. Who's watching out for whom? Those cared for become the caretakers.
One breath. One step. A thousand images hitting the pavement. Laughter and tears intertwined. No order.
They land in tempo. Spent.
Thursday, January 5, 2012
Second Thoughts
One of the things I am contemplating this winter and trying to pay more attention to is my second thoughts. Not in the regrets kind of way, but rather in the noticed it... will I act on it kind of way.
It has surfaced in small ways. I noticed the can or paper in the parking lot. Do I stop and pick it up kind of moment. I am in a hurry. Do I still take the stairs opportunities? Do I walk down the hall or send the speedy email? Do I write my notes of praise each day...even when I am running late?
Lots of little moments. Lots of tiny opportunities to act on my second thoughts to do the right thing.
Tonight I nearly ran over a big opportunity. Literally.
After I had already gotten comfy for the night, I realized the dogs were out of food. Sure, they could go one night… but I had a second thought on it.
Out I went to get dog food.
Second thoughts are not always convenient.
When I was driving out of the lot, a man was right on the edge of the curb.
Whoa.
I noticed his eyes first. Tired? Sad? I decided they looked weary.
Then I noticed the sign. “Homeless. Looking for work to buy a tent, food and something warm.”
First thought, “I don’t carry or give cash on the street. After all, I don’t know how it will be used.” Score one for my inner cynic.
He gave a bit of a wave, and I drove on.
About a block a way, I heard the second thought. The thought that made me drive ½ a mile, go to a gas station, grab a few dollars and drive back. Yes, that’s right my second thought was explicit. You noticed. Do not overlook it. Go back.
"He will answer them, 'I'm telling the solemn truth: Whenever you failed to do one of these things to someone who was being overlooked or ignored, that was me - you failed to do it to me.'” (Matthew 25:45, The Message)
When I spoke to the man, he was much younger than I originally noticed. He was shivering. His teeth chattered as I greeted him and shared my small offering. He spoke a brief thank you and God bless. His eyes lifted ever so slightly.
How will he use the cash? A tent, warmer clothes, food? Alcohol, cigarettes, drugs? I have no idea. But I decided I’d error on the side of not ignoring.
I have so many opportunities to notice and act.
I am choosing not ignore my second thoughts.
It has surfaced in small ways. I noticed the can or paper in the parking lot. Do I stop and pick it up kind of moment. I am in a hurry. Do I still take the stairs opportunities? Do I walk down the hall or send the speedy email? Do I write my notes of praise each day...even when I am running late?
Lots of little moments. Lots of tiny opportunities to act on my second thoughts to do the right thing.
Tonight I nearly ran over a big opportunity. Literally.
After I had already gotten comfy for the night, I realized the dogs were out of food. Sure, they could go one night… but I had a second thought on it.
Out I went to get dog food.
Second thoughts are not always convenient.
When I was driving out of the lot, a man was right on the edge of the curb.
Whoa.
I noticed his eyes first. Tired? Sad? I decided they looked weary.
Then I noticed the sign. “Homeless. Looking for work to buy a tent, food and something warm.”
First thought, “I don’t carry or give cash on the street. After all, I don’t know how it will be used.” Score one for my inner cynic.
He gave a bit of a wave, and I drove on.
About a block a way, I heard the second thought. The thought that made me drive ½ a mile, go to a gas station, grab a few dollars and drive back. Yes, that’s right my second thought was explicit. You noticed. Do not overlook it. Go back.
"He will answer them, 'I'm telling the solemn truth: Whenever you failed to do one of these things to someone who was being overlooked or ignored, that was me - you failed to do it to me.'” (Matthew 25:45, The Message)
When I spoke to the man, he was much younger than I originally noticed. He was shivering. His teeth chattered as I greeted him and shared my small offering. He spoke a brief thank you and God bless. His eyes lifted ever so slightly.
How will he use the cash? A tent, warmer clothes, food? Alcohol, cigarettes, drugs? I have no idea. But I decided I’d error on the side of not ignoring.
I have so many opportunities to notice and act.
I am choosing not ignore my second thoughts.
Sunday, January 1, 2012
Enough Already
When coming back from church this morning I saw a house with all sorts of Christmas items in the yard. There for the world to see was an exorbitamce of holiday cheer gone amuck...Snowman blow up, Santa and his sleigh, Snoopy holiday scene, candy canes, angels, lit-gift boxes, lights everywhere and, of course, baby Jesus in the manger.
Perhaps you know the kind of place I am talking about.
I am sure it brought them joy, but it got me thinking.
As I was paused contemplating the explosion of merriment, I had to wonder what in my life is over the top, excessive, outrageous? What hodge-podge of a mess do I have hanging out - perhaps as glaringly obvious to others as that wacky house, maybe more hidden to everyone but my spirit.
Is it stuff? Perhaps drama? Excessive emotion? Over-the-top frustration? Unwarranted fear? Is it trying to please others? How about judgment? Just what?
I spent the better part of the day then pondering, "When is enough, enough already?"
And on this 1st day of a new year, I decided to keep asking myself that question thoughout the year until I peel away the profusion that pulls me down.
I already feel lighter.
Perhaps you know the kind of place I am talking about.
I am sure it brought them joy, but it got me thinking.
As I was paused contemplating the explosion of merriment, I had to wonder what in my life is over the top, excessive, outrageous? What hodge-podge of a mess do I have hanging out - perhaps as glaringly obvious to others as that wacky house, maybe more hidden to everyone but my spirit.
Is it stuff? Perhaps drama? Excessive emotion? Over-the-top frustration? Unwarranted fear? Is it trying to please others? How about judgment? Just what?
I spent the better part of the day then pondering, "When is enough, enough already?"
And on this 1st day of a new year, I decided to keep asking myself that question thoughout the year until I peel away the profusion that pulls me down.
I already feel lighter.
Monday, July 18, 2011
Father's Eyes
Today would have been my father’s 80’s birthday.
I miss him. A lot.
He was a negotiator for Boilermakers. He was a company man. He often had to stand up for what was right when a whole lot of folks were not too pleased with a message he was delivering. Over his life’s work, he was highly respected and indeed loved by his peers – on both sides of the negotiating table.
He was a man who showed up. He cared for his neighbors. He had a work ethic that was inspirational. He failed frequently and apologized quickly. He laughed in abundance. He loved generously and unconditionally.
He had dementia in his final years, and his memory of me was stuck at about my age of 5. There are some advantages to that, but that is another story.
And yes, I was and still am a daddy’s girl.
I’ve thought about him a lot lately especially as I lead my Y team. I think about his passion, his vision, his impatience at times for folks to trust the bigger picture and live out the plan. I think about his desire to care for people.
So today seemed like a good Monday to send a Monday Musing and also post it to my blog in honor of all those things.
My Y team and I have come quite a ways since we started all this work together. We speak new languages of Activate and Gulick. We ask questions, pull data. We add to work loads, ask folks to step away from old habits or work patterns to embrace new ways. We have leaders from the middle. We seek excellence, even when it is outside our comfort zones. We demand a balance of work product and authentic relationship building. We add to the mix deeper community outreach and impact. We build our internal capacity and watch the payoffs rise. Things change so that other things can come together for the times we are in.
The pace seems to speed up. It has.
I notice all the impact they make happen. I see them showing up. I see them negotiating the changes – sometimes with ease and joy, sometimes with stutters and challenge. I see them working together – sometimes in laughter, sometimes with disagreement. Know that it’s all good.
Finally, there’s a song by Amy Grant about “My Father’s Eyes.” She is speaking of our heavenly Father’s eyes, of course… eyes that see the good in things, a source of help, compassion for others. My dad had those eyes. I hope to as well.
I miss him. A lot.
He was a negotiator for Boilermakers. He was a company man. He often had to stand up for what was right when a whole lot of folks were not too pleased with a message he was delivering. Over his life’s work, he was highly respected and indeed loved by his peers – on both sides of the negotiating table.
He was a man who showed up. He cared for his neighbors. He had a work ethic that was inspirational. He failed frequently and apologized quickly. He laughed in abundance. He loved generously and unconditionally.
He had dementia in his final years, and his memory of me was stuck at about my age of 5. There are some advantages to that, but that is another story.
And yes, I was and still am a daddy’s girl.
I’ve thought about him a lot lately especially as I lead my Y team. I think about his passion, his vision, his impatience at times for folks to trust the bigger picture and live out the plan. I think about his desire to care for people.
So today seemed like a good Monday to send a Monday Musing and also post it to my blog in honor of all those things.
My Y team and I have come quite a ways since we started all this work together. We speak new languages of Activate and Gulick. We ask questions, pull data. We add to work loads, ask folks to step away from old habits or work patterns to embrace new ways. We have leaders from the middle. We seek excellence, even when it is outside our comfort zones. We demand a balance of work product and authentic relationship building. We add to the mix deeper community outreach and impact. We build our internal capacity and watch the payoffs rise. Things change so that other things can come together for the times we are in.
The pace seems to speed up. It has.
I notice all the impact they make happen. I see them showing up. I see them negotiating the changes – sometimes with ease and joy, sometimes with stutters and challenge. I see them working together – sometimes in laughter, sometimes with disagreement. Know that it’s all good.
Finally, there’s a song by Amy Grant about “My Father’s Eyes.” She is speaking of our heavenly Father’s eyes, of course… eyes that see the good in things, a source of help, compassion for others. My dad had those eyes. I hope to as well.
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