Posted in What I'm Learning, Work & Life

Personal Superhero

People who write for a living are superheroes.

I enjoy writing. It is nourishing to me to take the thoughts in my head and turn them into tangible concepts. And I have long had stories floating around in my head that I’d love to get out someday.

I also do want people to read what I write, mainly because I feel that writing is my strongest avenue for drawing people to Truth. I’m not always right and I know I don’t represent Christ with perfection by any stretch of the imagination. But if it is at all possible for me to help others see Him more clearly through the practice of writing, I want to do it!

In our society, though, to truly make an impact as a writer, you have to “sell” yourself. You have to draw attention and make people want to read what you have to write. That’s the part I’m horrible at. I don’t push my writing. I don’t make sure that my content is right there in front of everybody, encouraging them to see and read. I prefer to be behind the scenes in real life, and that’s no different in writing.

So on days like today when the thoughts just aren’t flowing and the writing hits roadblocks, I can’t imagine having to both write and promote myself as a competent writer. It makes me wonder what the point is. Why do I even write, anyway?

I don’t think I’m alone in thoughts like these, and not just about writing, either. I think there’s a lot of stuff we just never do in life because we go down the “why bother?” trail. We hit a bad day and suddenly see all of the things we’re not good at. So, we decide we shouldn’t bother even with the things we are good at (probably because we no longer feel good at them).

Because living life — truly living it — is scary. That’s just the reality.

I don’t like scary. I like safe. I like confident. I like to know that something I start is going to work out from beginning to end. I don’t like to invest in things that may not succeed. (For the record, some days are overwhelming enough that this even involves investing in mundane things like cooking lunch. Yes, I’m weird. Yes, today is one of those days, and it has shown in my utter lack of productivity. I’m not sure how I’m even forming coherent words at all! But I digress.)

Today is one of those no-flow, roadblock kind of days. And I almost just didn’t bother, which is honestly my typical response when I hit days like today. I almost didn’t write. I put it off for a while, filling my time with piddly, unproductive things instead of moving forward well with my day. Which means I not only wasn’t writing, I also wasn’t doing anything else good and productive and useful.

Because that’s easier and safer than diving in and trying to do something that I may not be able to complete. It’s easier than failing. It’s easier to just not do than to question whether or not doing it is worth the effort.

I didn’t punt today, though. I sat down and did. It took me a lot longer than it should have, and I wasted most of my morning in the delay. But I did it. (Oh, and lunch worked itself out, too, but that was because my wonderful hubby jumped in with an awesome suggestion. Thank you, Hubby!)

It makes me feel just a bit like a superhero. Not a superhero who can tackle the battles of the world but one who can persevere over my own struggles. An ordinary but very, very personal superhero.

I have a feeling you have days like this, too. But you’re doing life anyway. You’re pushing forward. You’re tackling the scary. That makes you a superhero, too. One who is victorious over the ordinary that feels so overwhelming.

The results don’t have to be great. Goodness knows this blog post isn’t great. But I’m doing it. And I’m publishing it before I can talk myself out of it. And I’m encouraging you to go ahead and do, too.

Be a superhero for yourself today.

Posted in What I'm Learning

Who Am I?

That is the question, isn’t it?

It’s a question I’ve been asking myself for a little while now. And I’ve been slowly coming to a surprising realization regarding the answer: who I am changes.

I used to think that wasn’t possible. Yes, our stages of life would change, our circumstances would change, and even our interests might change. But the core of who we are has to stay the same, right?

In a way, yes. I’ve been created as a unique individual and there are certain aspects of my being and my personality that will always remain constant. But over the past few years I’ve experienced some confusion as I’ve tried to evaluate what is enjoyable and fun to me. What ideal life would look like for me. What fills and nourishes me. It’s honestly easier to just default back to the things that used to answer those questions and fill in the blanks for those evaluations.

Easier, though, isn’t always right. And those old answers seem a bit off to me these days. I’m not excited about the same things I used to be excited about. I’m not nourished by the same activities or fueled by the same types of situations, events, and circumstances. I don’t even love the same gifts I used to love. Or something as basic as the same foods!

Who I am has changed.

I recently took the time to evaluate my blog and go through and unpublish a lot of posts. Most of them, in fact. Why? Because who I am has changed. I don’t communicate the same way anymore. I don’t hold all of the same thoughts and ideas. So, as I get back to writing and publishing, I want to make sure that what is posted on my blog truly reflects who I am.

I have changed.

But that still leaves me with the question: Who am I now?

I honestly don’t know. And I struggle to have the intuition to dig it out. I’m a practical person who doesn’t work well in the theoretical (that’s one thing that definitely hasn’t changed and never will!). So, it’s much easier to look back and retain who I’ve been than to look forward and figure out who I’m becoming. It’s too abstract. I instead have to go with what I know today.
Today, it’s about writing. I’m a new writer. I know that seems odd since I’ve been blogging for nearly 15 years, so let me explain: I used to write, and I loved it. I wrote about my family’s daily activities on our family blog, highlighting both the fun and the struggles we had as a family. I wrote about things I learned as a mom. Spiritual truths I’d gleaned along the way.

Then I hit a stretch of life where I could no longer be public about lesson and struggles. I won’t go into the details of why, but the reality was that I no longer had that freedom. At first I tried to journal through it all anyway without publishing it on the blogs. But, I found myself undisciplined. The rhythm of blogging ensured that I made writing a part of my daily life. Without the blogging, I found myself lacking the discipline I needed to truly hash through the process of writing.

It was a mistake. I think I knew it at the time, but I just didn’t have the energy to do anything about it. The consequence was that, over time, I lost my own voice. I did a lot of ghost writing, a lot of dispassionate writing about ideas and events that I could easily address. But they were never me.

Now I’m coming back. But “me” is very different now. I can’t just rediscover that old voice. I have to find my new one. For instance, I’m not the work-at-home, homeschooling mom of three children ranging from elementary to early high school. Instead I’m the soon-to-be empty nester who is in between jobs and wondering what’s next.

And that’s not the only thing that has changed. Ministry has changed. Marriage is very different a quarter of a century in than it was 15 years in. My fifth decade of life is different from my fourth. Life is just…different.

So, I’m diving in. I’m figuring out who I am. Not who I will be for the next however many years I have on this earth. But who I am now. This year. In 2024.

And I’m going to record it, because someday I’ll look back at all of those old blog posts that I wrote in my thirties and at the things I’m writing now as I close out my forties. I’ll take note of the journey, and I’ll compare all of that to where I am in that “someday” moment. I’ll see who I was. I’ll acknowledge who I am. And I’ll take an active part in shaping who I will become.
And one day, when I step into eternity, I’ll know fully that the whole purpose was to learn who I am ultimately: a child of God whose whole purpose is to bring glory to Him…with all of who I am.

Posted in What I'm Learning, Work & Life

A New Direction

I have a dream of one day writing fiction. There are stories bopping around in my head, many of them with great and captivating characters. In my reading experience, a great character can make up for a great number of writing flaws, but even the most creative and descriptive authors will fall flat for me if their characters aren’t captivating.

The problem, though, is that I still need a point to my stories. Just developing a character does not drive fiction. A good character is critical, but without a story, there is nothing to carry the character. And, while I have great characters and good story starters in my head, I seem to lack an overarching plot that will engage a reader through to the end.

So, I haven’t bothered to start writing that fiction.

In all honesty, it’s more comfortable in this spot of not writing. But, I also have to admit that two things are highly challenging this position of inactivity. The first one is my children. Often as they discuss the stories they are writing, they make comments like, “Guess what I discovered today? That character is a red-head! So many things about her make more sense now!” Or they’ll talk about something unexpected happening or someone doing something funny. They talk as if they’re reading stories, not writing them. As if they are watching the stories come into being, not creating them.

And my kids aren’t alone in this. I’ve seen similar comments from other authors—published authors—talking about their characters or stories surprising them with unexpected actions or events.

It baffles my mind, and yet I remember reading something about Michelangelo saying that his sculpture work was simply an act of releasing a masterpiece already there in the stone, just waiting to be exposed. It’s not a new concept for artists to feel as if they are revealing rather than creating. And maybe they are. Maybe God Himself has the designs, the stories, the beauty already there, just waiting to be exposed by those with the talent to do so.

Of course, that idea doesn’t help encourage me to write those stories because I fear that I will not have the talent to reveal anything. My husband and children are so much more creative than I am. So, I should leave it to them, right?

Except that I told you there were two challenges. And the second comes from within me.

You see, this post was not the one I originally sat down to write. I had a different thought that I wanted to write out. But, I felt like it needed an introduction. In the process of writing the introduction, a whole new thought filled my mind, and it turned into its own blog post. Then that, in turn, led to this thought. In order to not lose the first two thoughts, I made notes for this one, then went back and worked on the other two. At this point, I don’t even remember what those original two thoughts were or what blog posts they produced, as it’s taken me a while to come back and flesh out this thought (fear, perhaps?). But the point is that the extra ideas didn’t come from just thinking about the original topic. They came from acting on the thought.

I had a thought. I started writing it out. And more thoughts followed, one after another, seeming to come from nowhere.

I’m good at pondering. And pondering is important. It’s where ideas come from, and those ideas spur growth. But, pondering itself doesn’t actually produce growth. Acting on those ponderings is the only thing that will help me grow. Create. Reveal. Action is what really turns a thought into something real. Action is what turns that one thought into another and another until we are not creating, we’re discovering.

My wonderful husband pointed out to me recently that maybe I need to stop learning about writing and just start writing. And he’s right, as usual. The stories, the thoughts, the ideas are all in there somewhere. But they serve no purpose closed up inside my head. Only once I take a step and start writing will they start revealing themselves.

And you know something? Maybe if I think of myself as being God’s tool for revealing beauty rather than responsible for creating it, I just might be capable after all.

Posted in What I'm Learning, Work & Life

Building a Non-Narrative Reading Habit

A year or so ago, a friend of mine asked a question on Facebook about establishing a non-fiction reading habit. As I pondered her question I was, first and foremost, encouraged by her admission. She’s one of those people I rank very high on the “smart preacher’s wife” list—but here she was struggling with non-narrative reading just like I always have! I’d always felt “less-than” on the intelligence scale because of my struggle with non-fiction. It was encouraging to see that even smart people sometimes struggle with non-fiction.

Secondly, her question opened my eyes to the fact that I have actually achieved a long-desired turning point in my own reading habit. I have gone from struggling greatly with non-narrative reading to establishing a needed habit of it to truly enjoying it! For the first time in my life, I look with excitement on my growing list of non-fiction titles instead of feeling overwhelmed. How exactly did I get there?

More Than Fiction vs. Non-Fiction: Starting with My Strengths

Fiction lovers often talk about preferring our novels over our non-fiction. But there are more distinctions than simply fiction and non-fiction. It’s not so much that I prefer fiction. It’s that I prefer story. I love Corrie Ten Boom’s The Hiding Place just as much as From Dust and Ashes by Tricia Goyer, my long-time favorite World War II novel. One is non-fiction, the other fiction created from memories of men who lived it. But both are stories. Narratives that bring history to life.

Recognizing that reality helped me take my preference and pick out non-fiction authors who paint word pictures. Even if they don’t tell stories in purely narrative form the same way The Hiding Place does, they do bring words to life, turning them into images that explode in my visual mind, helping me grasp abstract concepts.

The biggest challenge was that the recommended “greats” of Christian literature don’t always write like that. I had to realize that there was no failure in going with my strengths. I was still challenging myself by breaking out of my fiction restriction and moving to story-telling, non-fiction writers. As long as I was challenging myself, I was not failing, no matter what authors I was “ignoring” at the time.

My goal was to read for a set amount of time each morning, so I chose books that fit well with my morning devotional time. I never dreamed what kind of doors that new habit would open!

Going with a Theme

As I became more comfortable with non-fiction, I began to branch out by choosing books based on current themes rather than writing style. I’d read books by word-picture artists like Mark Buchanan and Ken Shigematsu that greatly challenged my approach (or lack thereof) to rest and Sabbath. So, I began to intermingle other books on the same theme. Although not all of these were by authors who were great at painting word pictures, the familiar themes helped me make connections. I could take the new information and convert it myself into imagery that worked well for my method of learning.

These themes have morphed and adjusted over the years. Sometimes while working through one theme, I “accidentally” pick up on a new one, and that directs me to my next book. Some of those directions have led me to books that are very much outside of my natural inclinations and reading styles. Reading those books, especially when first starting, can be a challenge. But, the more I read, the more I get used to different writing styles and am able to better and more quickly process the information before me.

The growth didn’t stop there. Once I’d firmly established the devotional non-fiction reading habit, I added a second book each morning. This one is not always “spiritual.” Not automatically written by a Christian author. But, it always contains something that will help me become a better…something. Strengthen who I am as a wife, a mom, a writer, a homeschooler, an organizer…you get the idea. But, because I read it at the end of my morning quiet time, I always approach it with the perspective of what I have just finished studying in God’s Word and reading from my spiritually nourishing non-fiction.

Voila! A Habit is Born!

I didn’t intentionally follow these steps. I just wanted to start reading non-fiction. And, honestly, I didn’t really realize what I’d accomplished until I saw that question on Facebook. I stand now in amazement, though, as I realize just how one little action—the decision to read a non-fiction book for five minutes every morning—has helped me grow so greatly.

Small actions can produce powerful habits. What small action can you take today?

Posted in What I'm Learning, Work & Life

Tools to Inspire

Several years ago, I taught myself how to knit. That seems like such a simple statement to encompass the full victory of this process. You see, many, many, many years before, some friends had tried to teach me to knit. They loved knitting and couldn’t imagine not knowing how to do it. I could crochet. Why not knit.

But I couldn’t. Two needles covered in loops that you maneuvered in a variety of ways just did not compute in my mind. So, I’d sit with my single little crochet hook and they would sit with their knitting needles, and we’d have a grand ole time.

It was a failure I never could shake, though, because so many beautiful patterns called for knitting. My favorite patterns, in fact. Oh, the crochet patterns were pretty. Don’t get me wrong. But there was something about the style of knit that I longed to be able to accomplish.

So, finally, as an adult, I decided to give it another try. And somehow, this time, I succeeded. Perhaps it was the teaching method. Perhaps it was that I saw the diagrams in a book instead of simply trying to mimic the style of someone else. Perhaps it was the patience that I’d learned in the two plus decades since my first attempt. Maybe it was simply a true desire. Back then, my friends wanted me to learn. This time, I wanted to learn. Makes a difference!

Whatever the case, I succeeded. I didn’t become phenomenal or grasp intricate patterns quickly. But, I did learn.

I don’t knit constantly, or even daily. It’s an occasional burst here and there, dropped for a time when a project demands more attention than I can give it. When a day comes along that allows me to give the project extra attention, I get it back to a point of being easy enough to pick up for ten minutes here or thirty minutes there. Then I can keep it going during a work meeting (when my involvement is more about listening than actively engaging) or school with the kids (when we are discussing a book together).

By necessity, most of my projects remain simple, although I do enjoy challenging myself with a new stitch here or a new design there. I like to create projects that allow me to merge the simple with the complex, though, so I’m frequently learning new techniques but also have something that’s easy to pick up and do without a whole lot of need to watch a pattern.

Because of this desire to challenge my skills, I have needed certain tools. Various sizes and styles of needles. Place markers and counters. Cable hooks. I keep it all on the inexpensive end because I’m not enough of an enthusiast to spend a lot of money on the hobby. But, even those inexpensive tools give me a chance to experiment and learn.

At one point, I picked up a little plastic case full of knitting tools. I’d chosen this kit because it had several marker options and a couple of counters. But when I opened it, I also saw a wide variety of other tools. Tools I had never seen before. I had no idea what they were called (again, inexpensive set…no labels) or how to find out. As time has passed, I’ve learned about a couple of them, but there are still several that leave me baffled.

But they also inspire me. They make me want to learn more about knitting. Figure out new skills. Try new challenges. Explore new options. Could this be the tool for that fancy stitch? Might that one help me feel a little more coordinated with cable knitting? Or enable a more elaborate cable? The tools motivate my curiosity and nudge my desire to learn. Well, most of the time, at least.
Here’s the deal: sometimes these unknown tools scare me a bit. They remind me of my limitations. They let me know how much I can’t do. And sometimes that is more overwhelming than inspiring.

Do you ever feel that way about your spiritual growth? Do you ever feel like you’re plugging along nicely, only to suddenly get a glimpse of tools, resources, and learning scales that you’ve never even thought of before? Do you ever feel that you will never be able to learn enough? Grow enough? Use resources well enough?

Or are you motivated and inspired to reach for a new goal? Learn a new skill? Climb a higher peak?

I know we will all hit walls that scare us just a bit. We will be overwhelmed by the discovery of just how much we don’t know. But, my prayer for both myself and for you, dear reader, is that those moments aren’t what define us. My prayer is that the more common response of our heart is to be inspired. To be motivated. To desire to learn how to tackle that new skill. To use that new resource. To climb to that next level.

To not be defined by fear, but to be motivated by inspiration.

Image by Tammy McLean from Pixabay
Posted in What I'm Learning, What Works for Me, Wonderments

My Sweet Spot of Bible Exploration

I’ve long struggled with finding the sweet spot of keeping myself immersed in Scripture. On the one hand, a read-through-the-Bible-in-a-year plan has always appealed to me because it enables me to not get bogged down in a narrow-minded focus. On the other hand, those broad plans tend to keep me from being able to really dig in and study on a deep level. So, I have tended to alternate between the two, some years reading through the whole Bible and other years spending extensive time in a single, focused spot.

Really and truly, though, my desire has always been to combine both. Time has just prevented it in the past. So, where does that leave me? There are so many depths to explore in Scripture. So many great books to read to help me along in my spiritual growth. So much journaling to do as I process each thought. How do I make it all fit into my schedule?

It’s Not a Race

The first thing I had to realize is that there’s no real rush. True, I only have so many years left on this earth. But, I will not learn it all in my limited lifespan. I can’t. It’s just not possible. And, once I get to heaven, my eyes will be opened as I see clearly instead of through a glass, darkly.

On the one hand, that could dissuade me from studying at all. Why bother if I’ll know it in eternity? But, if God didn’t want us to start here, He would not have given us His Word. He would not have revealed Himself so amazingly. So, even if it doesn’t all make sense to me, knowing that He wants me to do it is enough – at least for me.

So, if I really do need to study, even if I can never know it all, the other end of the argument states that there is no need to rush. If it takes me a year to process through a study, so be it! Progress is progress.

Broad Doesn’t Have to Be So Broad

The challenge of a one-year, whole-Bible plan is that the daily reading portions are long. It takes an average reader about twenty to thirty minutes of reading a day to get through the Bible in a year. I live in a family of above-average readers; they all read much faster than I do. But, I’m average. So, a through-the-Bible plan leaves little, if any, time for journaling, devotional reading, or closer studying.

This year, our church is working through a reading plan that is more focused, alternating between the Gospels (Monday and Friday) and the Pentateuch (Tues-Thurs). I’ve personally re-established the habit of reading a chapter of Proverbs each day as well. Small bites, but broad reading that allows distinct progress through the Bible this year. At this rate, it might take me closer to three years to process through the whole Bible. But, again, it’s not a race!

A Well-Paced Walk through the Focused

Meanwhile, each week I have two aspects of more focused study. One is my Sunday school lesson. This one is definitely time-based, but I try to spend some focused time – even if it’s only ten minutes a day – truly processing the Sunday school lesson passage. Over the weekends, I spend more time in specific lesson preparation, but I’m processing the passage in some form all week.

I choose a separate study for my own edification. This is important, because studying a passage for teaching requires a different form of focus and study than studying for personal growth. My current personal study is in 1 Peter, utilizing a Bible study and a conversational commentary to aid my slow work through this letter.

I love the combination of the time-sensitive focused study for Sunday school and the open-ended focused study of 1 Peter. (And I love how the Holy Spirit can tie them all together!)

It’s Not an Either/Or

This has really been the biggest discovery for me. I’ve always alternated between the broad and the focused, but it really doesn’t have to be either/or! This year, it’s smaller doses of both, with each taking up a certain percentage of my overall time. It may just be for a season, but I’m really enjoying this season!

Posted in What I'm Learning, Wonderments

Not Ready

Hibbard Academy’s thirteenth year of operation began on Monday, but the teacher was not really ready.

All summer, I’ve fought to find moments here and there to prepare for the new school year. I’ve spent evenings working far later than I should. I’ve squeezed as many Saturday moments as possible. Whenever the work and family schedule allowed, I put in hours during the day. But, I still wasn’t ready. Two days before we started, I realized I was missing the lesson plans for an entire course for my ninth grader. Morning of, I scrambled to find answer keys for the work my son had completed that needed to be graded. I still have a folding table set up beside my desk, full of miscellaneous tasks needing to be finished. I even created a brand new to-do list just so I wouldn’t miss something in the middle of the chicken scratch that remains of my working lists. In the middle of it all, I have this crazy feeling that I’ve missed something huge. Major. Critical.

But we still started. The kids dove in happily, asking me questions as we went along and helping me see what still needed to be added to my list – but never in a demanding or complaining way. They’re old hats at this, and they knew how to dive in to even some of the things that weren’t quite ready for them. They bound some of their own loose worksheet pages, made their own reminder notes, and laughed through the first day.

The things undone are still hanging over my head. They still have to be done so I can clean up the chaos around my desk, walk through the year well, and be ready and able to handle the demands for flexibility that inevitably pop up throughout the year. But, as the first day progressed, I realized that the last push to get the most major things ready was enough. We were able to have a good first day, despite it all.

Sometimes, not ready is okay.

As a planner addict, I’m not really okay with a lack of readiness in most situations. I want to have all of my ducks in a row and all of my plans lined up. It’s not so much that I expect things to go as planned – I’ve learned that they almost never do! But, when I have the plan well laid, I’m more ready and able to make adjustments when the need arises.

That’s not a bad thing. In fact, when things fall apart, it can more frequently be traced to lack of planning than to over-planning. I’ve seen it time and time again. We need to plan. We need to be aware of what’s coming and think through the logistics of what needs to be done. But, sometimes planner people like me take it too far. We plan and plan and plan, aiming for a point of readiness, often missing that the specific target is not very solid. There is always some other way we can plan. Some other avenue we can pursue. Some other contingent we need to create an alternative for. There’s always something.

And in the planning, we neglect to act.

On Monday morning, it was time to act. Although it went against the grain of who I am as a planner, I chose to hold myself to that deadline. And it worked – three days in, the first week of school is going quite well. More remains to be done, but I’ll get it done along the way. For now, though, I feel better for the acting. Yes, sometimes “not ready” really is okay.

Posted in Thoughts from Life, What I'm Learning

Sufficiency and Tightropes

I’m procrastinating today.

We slept in a bit this morning, which has me running a little later on the routine than normal. But, that’s not really what has me moving slowly. In reality, it’s the subconscious knowledge that, if I keep putting off writing, I once again won’t have time to get a blog post written, edited, and published before I absolutely have to get to work in order to get my hours in before church. That subconscious knowledge has actually become my safety net. And I’ve been spending more time in the safety net than on the tightrope where I belong.

You see, I have quiet a few blog posts stored in my files right now. Some are just thoughts tapped out quickly that need to be fleshed out. But others are fully written and just need to be edited. I have good intentions of starting my morning with some editing, photo searching, and publication prep so I can get one of those posts up. But each morning I find a whole list of other things that just have to be done. Then my time is spent, and I have to get to work. So, the posts never go up.

But it’s not really because of a lack of time or because of so many other things that are pressing. It’s really because staying in the safety net is more comfortable. It keeps me from falling. Because I know that I’m not going to stay on that tightrope. I will fall. How much easier to just stay down here where I know I’m going to end up anyway?

I’ve always been like that. I’ve never been a risk-taker or a daredevil. Thrill has never enticed me. In some ways, that’s a good thing. There is a place for people like me, because we like to keep the show running. We like to be in the background providing everything the thrill-seekers and dreamers and brainstormers and visionaries need. We make their ideas happen because we’re good at the practical and the organizational and – to be completely honest – the boring. That’s our place. That’s our strength.

But, too often it’s also our hiding place. And we have a litany of reasons to hide. One of the big ones for me is a feeling of insufficiency.

One of my daughters surprised me one day by verbalizing exactly how I feel so often, especially in the presence of my children. They are so talented. So amazing. They all have such incredible skills. I feel pretty mediocre standing next to them. Yet, one morning my daughter expressed how she felt useless and untalented, especially compared to her siblings. They, in turn, stared at her with mouths gaping and quickly began stating all of the ways she was so awesome and her talents were so amazing and useful, especially compared to how they viewed their own talents and strengths. As I worked to build up and encourage each of them, I also ached because I knew exactly how they all felt.

Insufficient.

They believe about themselves the same things I believe about myself. We may have our skills and talents, but what difference do they actually make in the real world? How can we possibly compare to the extraordinary offerings of so many other people? What impact can we, with our piddly contributions – actually make?

We recognize that we’ll never know if we don’t try, but we’ve also all – yes, even my three precious children at their tender ages – have tried and have fallen off the tightrope. Multiple times. Sometimes because of our own failing and other times because we’ve been shoved. Every time because of some insufficiency.

We long for the tightrope. We even do all of the preparations needed to walk the tightrope. And really, we don’t mind falling in the process of learning to walk the tightrope. But, we know that we won’t always fall on our own. Sometimes we will be knocked down, whether accidentally because of a lapse of attentiveness on someone else’s part or intentionally because of jealousy or rudeness or pride. But, it will happen. And in that fear, we stay in our safety net and wish that we were already experts on the tightrope. Already skilled to the point of being able to better resist the shoves. Unsure that we can handle both the learning and the struggling.

That’s why I’m procrastinating today. That’s why multiple posts remain in my folders, unedited and unpublished. And that’s why I’m forcing myself to publish this post today. Because it’s time to get out of the safety net and get back on the tightrope.

Posted in What I'm Learning, Wonderments

A Little Tea

I’ve never liked tea.

I’m a southern gal who grew up in Jordan. A love for iced tea is assumed in the South – and it’s assumed that your preference is sweet tea, unless you specifically declare otherwise. And Jordan? Well, sweet hot tea is a must. It is served to any and every guest, and refusal is rude. I was fortunate that my siblings loved tea. As the oldest, I was the first to reach the age to be offered tea along with the adults, and the first to come to an age where it was not acceptable to refuse. But my parents allowed me to “share” with my siblings, as long as I sipped politely when our hosts were looking. It’s amazing how small of a sip can be taken – and how hard it can be to stifle a shudder every time the horrid taste hits the tongue. I still shudder at the memory of the taste.

And yet, as I spend a few minutes typing out a few thoughts before heading to bed, here I sit drinking a nice, warm cup of “tea.”

Admittedly, it’s not like any of the tea I grew up sipping with distaste. It doesn’t have any of the “tea” flavor to it. This particular concoction tastes predominantly like spearmint, although there are other herbs blended in with it to create a restful evening concoction. Bottom line? It’s not “real” tea. It’s herbal tea. And there is, I’ve learned, a difference.

I’ve tried a few herbal teas in the past and haven’t enjoyed them. But, a couple of months ago, my friend Hannah encouraged me to try an orange tea that, with a little honey added to it, was incredibly soothing. Then more recently, my friend Becky shared her favorite licorice root tea suggestions for colds and sore throats. In the process of picking up boxes of those two herbal teas, my husband found a sampler box that he thought would be a good idea as well.

I was skeptical, but I thought I’d give them a try. So far, I haven’t found one I dislike. Granted, I’m still getting used to the idea of drinking anything with “tea” in the name, and there are times when it tastes more like flavored hot water than anything else. But, as much as I love my Choffy in the mornings, these mugs of herbal tea really do seem to be hitting the spot better for afternoon and evening beverages.

So, what’s the point of sharing this little tidbit about myself and my drinking preferences?

Well, things change. Even our tastes. But sometimes we get so buried in our habits that we don’t break out enough to discover those changes. I don’t know if I’ll ever grow to like real tea, but I have tried herbal teas in the past and not enjoyed them. That is obviously changing as I try them again.

This isn’t the first thing that has changed about me in recent years. But discovering these changes means I have to be willing to set aside past negatives, past dislikes, and even past failures and try again. (That’s why I occasionally go ahead and take a sip of Doug’s coffee – just in case those tastes have changed! Not so far!)

Once upon a time, I couldn’t get my brain to process learning to knit. No matter what my friends did to try to teach me, I remained baffled. Twenty-five years later, I taught myself successfully.

Guitar has been elusive for me in the past. But, I’m picking it up again – trying to learn – and somehow my fingers are responding better now.

Things that worked for me in the past don’t any more, but other things that didn’t now do. Things I enjoyed once upon a time no longer bring pleasure, but I’m discovering new enjoyments. Things change. But, if I am not willing to continually explore, try, revisit, and learn, I will not discover the changes. I’ll just be stuck. And, oh the delights I’ll miss out on! Like a delightfully relaxing cup of herbal tea.

Do you need to try some tea this week?

Posted in What I'm Learning, Wonderments

Rambling

Recently, I sat down to start writing with what I thought was a clear focus in mind. I wrote quickly and steadily, more quickly than usual, in fact. There was only one problem. Eight hundred and thirty-two words later, I was nowhere near my original thought. I’d somehow progressed through at least three partial trains of thought that somehow, maybe loosely connected. But, the first one didn’t have an ending, the second was simply there, and the third really didn’t have a beginning.

I apparently just needed some rambling time.

Perhaps sometime in the near future I will sit down and split the rambling out into coherent blog posts or articles, fully fleshing out each of the partial thoughts. But in the meantime, the rambling itself introduced a new thought: the fact that we all need to ramble a bit.

Any of us who have had any interaction at all with at least one other human being have heard rambling at some point in our lives. Sometimes rambling pours from someone who simply has the need to talk. If you are or have ever been a young mama, you’ve probably experienced that need! Other times, rambling comes from the need to organize thought, which some people do best through trying to ramble through what they’re thinking.

That is where I was the evening I typed over eight hundred rambling words. I needed to process. I needed to think something out. I needed to retrieve an idea that was floating somewhere in the shadowed corners of my brain but couldn’t quite form itself. So, I had to ramble. I just didn’t recognize the need until later.

Here’s the problem. Rambling is, for the most part, considered to be a negative thing – and that’s not an unfair consideration. In many situations, rambling wastes time and energy. It causes us to miss matters of importance buried in too much nothingness. It exhausts the young mom and misdirects real communication between a married couple. It skirts issues and delays problem-solving. It keeps relationships shallow.

Most of the time.

Except in those times when it serves the opposite purpose. When it becomes useful. But how do we know the difference? How do we make good use of rambling when it’s needed?

I don’t really have a good answer. But I can’t help but wonder if one of the secrets might be intentionality. You see, I rambled that night because I needed to grab hold of a real idea – I just didn’t know how to get to it without expressing a whole slew of other ideas in the process. Sometimes, I need to ramble verbally with someone else, gaining their input as I seek to grab the illusive thought. Other times, writing is better because I can process what I’m trying to say better through the written word than the spoken.

In either situation, though, it needs to be intentional. Not just rambling for the sake of putting words out there, whether written or spoken. But rambling because I know a thought – a good thought – is hidden somewhere in the middle of a jumble of other thoughts, and the only way to free it is to walk through the thoughts. Like untying a knot.

Perhaps you’re like me – a little afraid to just ramble. Afraid you’ll bore someone or sound dumb. Concerned that you’ll never make any sense. I think, though, that sometimes the thoughts, ideas, bits of creativity, or spectacular solutions that we have to share are buried somewhere in the middle of a pile of rambling. And the only way to get to it is to process the randomness that surrounds it.

May we never waste our words, our thoughts, or our relationships on idle words. But, may we also not be afraid to ramble now and then, trusting that those intentional rambles will lead us to something real, meaningful, and even productive.