Category: Life

Maybe that sounds silly, but I'm guessing we all do it.

How often do we fall into bed exhausted, wondering where the day went? It's as if we went through the past 24 hours on autopilot. We flip over a new calendar page and try to remember what we did during the thirty days now past.

Someone said it well, "Life is not a dress rehearsal."

Each of us gets only one take on today.

Even though we're breathing in and out, we can be oblivious, completely wrapped up in our thoughts, tied up on the computer or watching television.

I plead guilty. How about you?

Or we tune out the people in our lives. Parents scold teenagers because they can be in the same room but text each other rather than talking. Grownups do the same thing, but we don't use a keyboard. We simply switch off our minds and look past each other.

Even in marriage we can run on parallel tracks, each of us concentrating on what interests us, blind to each other's concerns. That can feel achingly lonely, as if we simply wave at each other as we pass in the hall.

Then there's multitasking. Busy people assume we can multitask and get more done. Researchers tell us that because we're not focused we accomplish less. Our brains bop back and forth between tasks, never giving full attention to either one. That leads to mindless errors for, but . . . let's not talk about that.

So what's the answer?

For me, once again I'm reminding myself that this day is the one I'm living

To be precise, I only live this one minute, then the next. Apparently, I like the way Psalm 90:12 reads in the New Living Translation:

Teach us to make the most of our time, so that we may grow in wisdom.

Life is too precious to miss! So once again I recommit to paying attention and making the most of my time.

Maybe this time I won't forget.

Here's to being present while we're present,

Lenore

Question for you: Do you struggle with this? Or have you overcome it? Then tell us how! Just click on the word, "Comments," at the end and follow directions.

Let’s not go A.W.O.L. from our lives

August 14, 2010
Sorry I've been so stingy with posts lately, but we've been moving.

Well, not really. It's just our stuff that's been moving.

It started (as it often does) with me, thinking we needed to paint our great room and kitchen. Let's say this has, a-hem, been mentioned before.

This time my husband surprised me and said, "Well, call someone and get an estimate."

Yeah!

This would be a first, since sanity dictated we needed to let a pro paint our high ceilings. So I made one phone call to a painter we knew and set off a whirlwind. By the time he arrived next morning to give us an estimate, we had decided to paint all our interior walls but the laundry room and my office. After all, in our home you can stand in the hall and see into all the other rooms.

(By now I'm off-the-charts delighted and ready to nominate my spouse for Husband of the Year.)

When would said painter have an opening? Well, he said, "I have several exterior jobs scheduled, but they predict rain all next week. This is Saturday. Any chance you could be ready by, say, Monday?"

We looked at each other and said, of course we could, since they would move all the furniture out to our garage. "All" we had to do between then and Monday was to take down the pictures, clear off the bookshelves and all other surfaces, strip down the place to furniture only…. Everything ended up in the laundry room, the garage, our not-to-be painted closet and yes, my office–the only safe places in the house.

Monday morning they showed up promptly at 8 a.m. For the next three days we wandered around, going home only to sleep and glad they used low-odor paint. (Since they did one area at a time we would always have a bed to sleep in.) Yes, we could have left town, but we both wanted to be available and to be able to see the progress.

They finished up Wednesday evening, earlier than expected. The painters had set the furniture back in place and cleaned up after themselves neatly, but we when we looked around, we groaned. All that stuff we yanked off the shelves over the weekend had to go back, piece by piece. Worse yet, although we had been told there would be "dust" from spraying the ceilings, we hadn't realized how, despite their masking off surfaces, this film would cling to every inch of every surface and not wipe off. That meant anything not freshly painted would need to be cleaned and polished…first.

Years ago I swore off spring housecleaning, but that's what it feels like. The good news is that we suddenly have clean windows and polished cabinets and furniture. I've worked my way through most of the piles, bought a new shower curtain, etc. After all, while we're at it, maybe this thing would look better over there, which means that place needs something, so maybe if I move this and then take that over there….

You get the picture. Please be kind and don't even mention the mountain of laundry that nags at me.

So it's been fun, but also exhausting. The beige-y color is great and everything looks fresh and clean. Still, it's a new color scheme, don'tcha know? So some things don't work as well with this. (It's kind of nice to have an excuse to replace a few things.)

By now I want it to be o-v-e-r. I love our new digs, but I want to settle in and get on with life.

You might say we had all the "fun" of moving, with the added bonus of already knowing our great community. Both my husband and I agree that we probably needed to be pushed out of our, shall we say, ruts–and that's a good thing.

Question for you: What's your story about moving, or about being nudged out of your comfort zone?

Blessings,

Lenore

How to move without leaving home

April 22, 2010
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March 22, 2010
It's time to put up those new calendars. If you're like me, you're thinking about the year ahead and asking yourself some questions.

How will I fill my time? What will I read? What will I look at?
Who will I hang around with?

That matters. I can't recall who said this, but it's good.

The person you will be five years from now will be determined by the books you read, the television you watch and the people you spend your time with.

A friend loved to remind anyone within hearing, "You gotta put the good stuff in if you want to get the good stuff out."

He thought that saying applied to all of life…and he was right.

You probably know this well-loved summary of how you and I can "put the good stuff in."

Finally, brothers, (and sisters,) whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable–if anything is excellent or praiseworthy–think about such things. –Philippians 4:8

Lots of people make jokes about New Year's resolutions, because we usually fall short. It helps to remind ourselves that the only person who never fails is the one who never tries.

So I resolve to reread Phil. 4:8 frequently and: Think it. Speak it. Live it.

I hesitate to write down my other resolution. You see, I've been working on a book for moms for a very long time. For no good reason, I have delayed sending off queries. This year I will not rest until I find an editor or agent who believes in this book as much as I do and wants to publish it.

What's your resolution? Why not share it, so we can encourage each other? Just keep scrolling to the "Post a Comment" box below and follow directions.)

Friends, I wish you blessings and great JOY in every day of the year ahead!

Lenore

What kind of “stuff” do you plan to put into your days?

December 31, 2009
What makes some people maintain that spunk and feisty spirit into old age? Is it a temperament they're born with or do they choose it?

I've wondered about that for years,. The other day I got an e-mail from a relative with a photo of my aunt, who lives in Minnesota. Aunt Elsie is my father's baby sister and the only one of those five siblings still living on earth.

At age 101, she maintains the spirit and humor I always loved as a child. Now she lives in an assisted-living residence and walks with a walker. When someone commented she gets around very well, she said yes, she does. Then she smiled her old smile and said, "And I would dance, too, if I had a partner!"

That doesn't surprise me one bit. I haven't seen Aunt Elsie for years, but I always delighted in how she seemed to have fun wherever she was. I remember so well her laugh and her sparkling eyes.

Yet that didn't flow out of getting all the breaks in life. She and her husband worked hard running their own business. Childless for many years, they adopted a daughter and shortly thereafter had three kids of their own. At age four their oldest boy received a brain injury as the result of another driver hitting him while he crossed the street. He came out of the coma, but never was the same, never able to keep up with his siblings.

But life went on and so did Aunt Elsie and Uncle Earl and the rest of the family. That catastrophe took awhile for all of them to take in and get used to. Mostly they coped. They never doubted that God let their son live for a reason and they wouldn't look back. They suffered through all the usual emotions and grief, but they survived…and kept on believing, kept on loving.

These two lived through the usual ups and downs of rearing children to adulthood–and much more, besides. Aunt Elsie dealt with illnesses and the death of two husbands. But she never gave up. She lives on and laughs and jokes.

All along the way, she had choices to make. Would she become a harpy? A bitter woman, angry at God, perpetually expecting disaster? And who would have blamed her if she had.

But she didn't. She chose to go on believing that God loves her and her family, and watches over all of them. I'm betting she has read Psalm 139 over and over, sometimes looking for answers to her whys and sometimes soaking up reassurance.

Since my mom died before she reached age 55, I look at older women for role models of how to do it. I look at Aunt Elsie and all the others who choose to go on living with gusto and faith every day of their lives.

To me they're shining examples of the truth of Psalm 92:12, 14-15:

The righteous will flourish like a palm tree…They will still bear fruit in old age, they will stay fresh and green, proclaiming, "The LORD is upright' he is my Rock, and there is no wickedness in him."

Let's choose to be ageless…fresh and green every day of our lives!

Here's wishing you JOY in your journey through life,

Lenore

Your comments welcomed!

The secret of youth–and it doesn’t come in a jar

October 21, 2009
It was written long ago, but it still speaks to me. It reminds me other folks in other times have felt that way, too–and later on have seen what was hidden earlier.

I can't know what you're dealing with right now, but somehow it seems a good time to share it with you. Even if you've read it before, hope you find it worth another reading.

I asked God for strength, that I might achieve–

I was made weak, that I might learn humbly to obey.

I asked for help, that I might do greater things–

I was given infirmity, that I might do better things.

I asked for riches, that I might be happy–

I was given poverty, that I might be wise.

I asked for all things, that I might enjoy life–

I was given life, that I might enjoy all things.

I got nothing that I asked for, but everything I had hoped for.

Despite myself, my prayers were answered.

I am, among all men, most richly blessed.

(–Attributed to an anonymous soldier of the Confederacy)

Hope this wisdom blesses your heart as much as it does mine.

Blessings,

Lenore

Your comments welcomed!

When nothing makes sense, think on this…

September 29, 2009
Schools around here are back in session–or soon will be. Kids of all ages, along with adults of all ages, are trekking back, or maybe for the first time.

Education is a wonderful thing. We say that all the time, don't we? And it's true.

Still, it takes courage to take that first step, whether you're a first-grader or an adult first-timer who's been away from school for a long time. There's a saying that goes something like this, "The journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step.

Beginnings are like that. The "first step" is the hardest. Each one that follows feels easier.

That truth applies, even when we're beginning a new way of doing things in our personal lives. What we know always feels more comfortable and safe than stepping off into the unknown.

Every one of us has "been there, done that" at least a couple of times. We all know that sinking feeling, that self-doubt that we can handle what's ahead. What to do?

One simple tactic is to change the way we think and hang a new label on what we're feeling. Instead of "fear" and "discomfort," we can call it "excitement." After all, can't you remember times when you felt excited and you had those same butterflies? Me, too.

So if you're stepping off into the unknown–or your children are–here's a benediction on your week and for this new undertaking. We sang it at church today. First our pastor sang it to us, all of us standing. Then each side turned to face the other and we sang it together, each side to the other side. How lovely to sing these words to the smiling folks facing us!

So I "sing" it to you, with all my best wishes.

As you go on your way may Christ go with you,

May He go before you to show you the way,

May He go behind you to encourage you,

Beside you to befriend you,

Above you to watch over,

Within you to give you peace.

God bless you, whoever you are–and thanks for taking time to read this blog now and then,

Lenore

Question for you: What new activities are you–or a family member–undertaking?

A benediction for your week–and your life

August 23, 2009
Do you ever find yourself going through life in neutral? I plead guilty. I got a lesson in joy the other morning and my smile lasted all day. Nothing out-of-the-ordinary, just one of those everyday blessings easy to miss.

Let me set the scene. The landscape we look at every day is fairly common for this part of California. Common-use open space runs behind our house. A walking trail runs though this unmowed area and it's dotted with several huge, gnarly oak trees. I've always loved the way they grow, even when I only saw them in movies.

Many species of birds call those ancient trees home. One or the other is always singing or chattering. My personal favorite is the mockingbird, which can go on for hours. (Some people find that annoying, I know.) These birds like high places. Frequently one hunkers down on the roof next door and serenades us.

I looked out the other morning, enjoying another serenade, thankful once again that mockingbird is "ours" and chose to perch on the tip of the topmost branch. Suddenly that plain gray bird jumped straight up in the air, landed in the same place and never stopped singing. The bird kept repeating that performance over and over. I watched for several minutes what looked very much like leaping for joy.

Not long after I heard an unfamiliar noise out back, a kind of chattering. Fifteen or so California quail had dropped in for a quick visit and were lined up along the top railing of our fence. We had spotted some a few times while walking the trail, but had never seen them up close. This covey clearly had a leader and seemed sociable, nodding their heads at each other, clucking and muttering in quail talk. They sounded so much like a group of women that I had to laugh.

Then I noticed that just behind that tree a young mule deer was grazing. It soon ambled its way off down the hill. Somehow, it seemed the finishing touch. (This was not the first time we've seen deer. Every now and then they come right up to that our back fence and nibble through the bars.)

Now the point to all this nature talk. First, I've been known to grumble (surprise!) Yet even when it seems the city crowds in, God provides reminders of his creation. How many other little blessings do I miss every day?

Second, I always get to choose how I look at life. Mockingbirds can be viewed as pests…or as wonderful songbirds. Deer pay no attention to regular height fences, they devour rose gardens and just about any bloom that's not purple, except for daffodils. Yet did you ever see a more graceful animal?

For right now, I want to keep before me the image of that mockingbird jumping straight up. It looked like sheer exuberance that had to be expressed. I'd like some of that quality for myself. How about you?

Here's to greeting our days with joy!

Love and blessings,

Lenore

Looking more closely may lead to jumping for joy

August 3, 2009
"We had such a wonderful life," the weeping husband told the counselor. "A good marriage, beautiful children, and we did everything right. At least, we thought we did. But now, now…What am I supposed to do now?"

The counselor, known by all to be warm and caring, listened awhile. His response sounds shocking at first. "What I hear you saying is that someone ruined your Camelot."

Remember Camelot? Flowers always bloomed and the sun always shone. Brave knights rescued every maiden in distress. Ladies in lovely gowns sipped tea and cakes, yet never had to boil or bake. Who wouldn't want to live in such a magical, mystical, mythical place?

Except we don't. We live in the real world, with real people.

More times than I want to admit, I forget that and set myself up for disappointment. Then like that weeping father, I grieve the loss of my dream and my self-image as much as anything.

Then what do we do? We love the sinner(s), as the counselor advised that dad to do, as God loves us. We take our pain to God, until finally we can leave it there.

Camelot would be a lovely place to visit, I suppose. But I wouldn't trade the joys and challenges of relating to real people.

How about you?

Blessings,

Lenore

Agree or disagree? Your comments welcomed! (Just click on the word, "Comments" in the small print at the end, then follow directions.)

Who ruined your Camelot?

April 3, 2009
                    It’s the buzz across the nation. Octuplets!

In case you’re fuzzy on the details, here are the facts. The single mother gave birth to eight babies and has six children at home, ages two to seven. Although she has an ex-husband, he did not father any of her fourteen children. All fourteen arrived courtesy of fertility drugs and in-vitro fertilization, using the the same, undisclosed sperm donor.

Nadya Suleman, age thirty-three, lives in Los Angeles with her parents and her children. A year or so ago her parents took out bankruptcy to the tune of one-million dollars. Since then the nine of them have lived in a 1,550 square foot house. (I can hear you groaning. Are you identifying with the mother or the grandparents?)

Suleman has hired a public relations firm, but not to worry. Her spokeswoman says she is “the most sought-after mom in the world right now.”

Hundreds of morning shows, television talk shows, magazines, tabloids and the like clamor for interviews. Some (I am shocked!) involve offers to pay. No decisions have been made, says her spokeswoman, Joanne Killen, who noted the obvious: raising eight babies will be expensive … plus six more.

But not to worry. According to her spokeswoman, Nadya Suleman plans to carefully review her “financial opportunities.” Killen pooh-poohed reports that this new mother already had decided to host a television show on parenting. (It should be noted her family talks of her lifelong desire to have children, and she majored in child development.) She adds that Suleman does eventually want to tell her story to the world. That’s why the new mother (again) hired their firm, says Joann Killen, to manage all those opportunities.

Years ago learned scholars, doctors and theologians began arguing the ethics of the inevitable fallout to come once fertility drugs and in-vitro fertilization became common. By this point countless couples have followed this route and delight in the results.

The tale of Nadya Suleman and her children seems to me a prime example of misuse. Think of the other issues. Maybe you’ve read articles about women who gave birth through the use of donated sperm and now are tracking down their own child’s “siblings,” through the Internet. They’re getting together for “family reunions.”

            You’ve watched television shows about couples who meet and fall in love, then find out they’re related, because the two mothers were inseminated by the same sperm donor. You’ve read the stories of surrogate mothers who changed their minds because they had bonded with the child growing within them, leaving the would-be parents sad and devastated.

            Perhaps saddest of all are the countless children all over this nation waiting to be adopted … and growing up still waiting. Meanwhile couples long to be parents and will spend years—and endless thousands of dollars, not to mention the indignity and discomfort of taking fertility drugs—hoping to end up with a child that shares their DNA.

            Last night on one of our local television newscasts, the anchor did their weekly feature introducing one or more children who ache to be part of a family. They always touch my heart, but especially last night. A handsome fifteen-year-old talked about his hope that someone would want him. The newscaster asked, “Do you ever get too old to hope?”

            The young man said something like, “Not me. Maybe I’ll go on hoping all my life, wishing I belonged to somebody. When I hear other kids complaining about their parents, I just say, ‘Cut it out! You don’t know how lucky you are to have somebody in your life who cares about you!’ So I guess I’ll go on hoping … “ And then he looked away from the camera.

            So here’s my question for you: When—not if—Nadya Suleman turns up as the featured guest on Oprah’s show, will you watch? When the sperm donor decides to tell his story (and you know he will) will you listen? Would you watch a television show on parenting with Nadya Suleman as host?

What do you think about this “brave new world” of science? And what is "mother love," anyway?

Sorry, I guess that’s more than one question, so you get to pick. Please do!

Lenore

Your comments truly are welcomed!



What’s your take on the mother with eight babies?

February 3, 2009