Changed By Change

So here's the thing...

Change happens.

I tell you what, I'm always shocked when I walk past a mirror and see my image. I think, "Who is that and what happened to HER?"
Oh.
Then I stop and look closer and recognize some of the original parts are still somewhat recognizable:
The brilliantly white teeth,
The sparkling eyes
The crazed expression on my face.

The changes are just as obvious, especially the 'platinum highlights' I've embraced these last few years.
My taste has changed as I experiment with this 'old is the new black' lifestyle. I take risks (like leggings-they are easy to wear if you don't mind feeling like you forgot to put your skirt on before leaving the house). I have also gotten a real kick out of watching the reactions of my friends and family when they see what I'm up to next.

Wait, I've ALWAYS gotten that reaction....

Change means we move toward positive stuff  like fun, personal interests, exploring new places and things.

Change also means we move away from downers like stagnation, boredom, routine, stale mindsets, and lack of imagination.

 I think it's okay to reinvent yourself occasionally. What's the worst that can happen?

You can always go back home and get your skirt.

Pinterest Postings Tell All

I love Pinterest.

It's like shopping without the clutter.

You don't have to dust it, move it, pull pages out of it.

There's no need to purchase different colored folders to keep the articles for 'someday.'

Heck, they do it for you.

I've spent hours and hours daydreaming, snickering, pinning and emailing different pins.

Instead of 'honey do' lists, hubbys now dread hearing, "Dear, wait till you see what I found on Pinterest."

They cringe, I tell you.  More eye rolling husbands exist today due to Pinterest.

I learned something else interesting about Pinterest: What you or your friends are interested in is posted there in plain sight for anyone who wants to get acquainted.  Or stalk.

Talking to a friend the other day, she shared that she had very few pins on her health board, but over 100 pins on her recipe  board.  Mine is glutted with cute pets  and rude sayings.  Very few (if any) recipes.

So I came up with a great way we can interact with other pinners like my friend.  She is more than welcome to try her recipes on me.

I, in the meantime, will play with and pet any available cute animal while making rude comments.

More Mis-Adventures

I promise you the stories I share with you are real.

When I describe clumsy, distracted, unbelievable situations that happen to me I ain't lying.

So here's a new one for you:

This past week I really tried to buckle down and get some paperwork done.  Yes, I procrastinate, mostly because I forget what I'm supposed to do until it's almost too late to do it.

Not THIS time- I promised myself.

So I settled down at my desk, got my files ready, charged up my cell phone and began returning phone calls to insurance companies I was supposed to contact weeks earler.

I certainly didn't think I'd misdialed: I mean, they give you many many (many many) numbers from which to choose.  Certainly ONE of those numbers would start me in the right direction.

I should have known something was wrong when the voice that answered the phone was one of a young lady who just sounded too happy.  No insurance company really has employees that sound that chipper, do they?

I became suspicious when this young lady asked me if I like to have fun.

Have fun?  I'm calling an insurance company.  They don't really care if I have fun.  They want my provider number and any other number I can come up with.  They mean business.

Ooooohhhhhh....I listened further.  This young lady was suggesting I didn't need to be lonely tonight.

I hung up.  And started laughing.

OF COURSE I dialed a 'dating service' number instead of an insurance company!

No lie.

Sisterhood of the Silver Foxes

I have a new club to which I am a proud member.  Forget hair club for men.
What I have is a sisterhood of gray haired ladies.

It seems like since I've embraced my white hair (dear hubby calls it 'platinum'.  I think I'll keep him) I've had many random conversations with other white-haired gals I don't know. I've met 'sisters' in public restrooms and checkout lines. I even had a woman stop me outside a fancy mall during my LA visit.  And we all act as if we've known each other for years.

The opening conversation is always something about whether the color is natural.  Then how long we've worn it this way.

Then it gets down to what products we use. "Do you use the purple stuff?"

We look at each other knowingly and then walk on, knowing we aren't alone in this brave quest of letting the world see us as we really are.

That's scary.  It's been interesting and challenging to let go of the past (hair color) and embrace the future (me as I really am).  My whole attitude about myself and where I fit in has changed.

I kind of like it.

My point is that when we recognize something with whom we identify, it's okay to cut through the clutter of small talk and get to the important things (apparently there's a hair product for my crowning glory that will make it look EVEN BETTER at the beauty supply store).

You may be the founding member of your sisterhood.  Whatever it is, believe me, you aren't alone.  Think of all of the future sisters just waiting to find someone just like you.

California Dreaming

Hi Everyone!
I just got back from a week in California where the average temperature was 75-80 degrees.

Jealous?

Wow, I thought St. Louis drivers had a death wish.  Drivers in LA must do the 'bumper car' method of navigation: just keep going until you 'bump' into something.

Of course, that something could be a trash can, pedestrian, or another car.  It's all the same to them.

Fearless, that's what they are.  Or clueless.  Or just so self-absorbed and distracted they don't even know that their lives just passed before their eyes.

But I knew! It was amazing how many drivers tried to get into the same small place on the freeway.  Then I discovered that my braking foot was less cramped when I spent the ride either looking at the houses built high up or by staring at my knees.I cleaned my purse several times, too.  And checked my cell phone.

Don and I went to CA to visit dear daughter Kari and her hubby Gareth.  Plus our two grand-kitties.  We drove around locally in Sherman Oaks and went to the Santa Monica Pier.  There Kari and I watched both Don and Gareth take surfing lessons.  Poor Don was the oldest student on the beach and he worked so hard to keep up with everyone (personally, I thought he did great; I don't think I'd have even survived donning the wet suit...).

Of note was all the quality time I spent with my baby girl.  We shopped ourselves to death and I even tried on jeans (now THAT'S love!).  We talked and talked and caught up on life.  I bet we shopped everyday for at least 3 hours, more on other days.  Normally I would start whining about 2 hours into a shopping trip but this time I had the stamina of 10 men (or a mom with a preschooler).

It got me to thinking about situations we get ourselves into and how difficult the journey can be.  We feel isolated, exhausted and hopeless crawling through the challenges.  Sometimes even having 'encouragers' along doesn't help much, especially those who spout platitudes about how we need to trust and pray more.

But put us with someone who is meaningful in our lives, someone who knows us and is willing to travel with us and we can find that extra ounce of strength and courage to keep going. Those friends/relatives are few and far between but well worth hanging on to.  I hope you have such a person in your life.

Even to trying on jeans.

Indelible Words

Let's talk about tattoos.

In the 'olden days' only circus performers and military personnel got tattoos.

Now, it's rare that anyone over 18 is tattoo-free.  I find myself 'reading' people all the time; I figure if they went through all that discomfort to get the artwork done it's up to me to admire it.

But I can't imagine ever being committed enough to a design to have it permanently etched on my skin.  If I can't decide what earrings to wear with an outfit, I'm certainly not ready to pick out a tattoo.

However, many folks are more than eager to pick out something meaningful to carry with them the rest of their lives.  That's cool for them; I, on the other hand, am thankful I never got a picture of Donny Osmond inked onto my torso.

My computer recently displayed a photo that I can't get out of my mind.

The photo simply depicted a graceful woman's arm and hand, fingers apart. On the arm and hand was what looked like delicate lines of writing of some type.  The caption, paraphrased, said,
"Imagine if every word you spoke was tattooed on your skin."

It struck me that I was guilty of having a bad tattoo.  The words I speak at times are frivolous and meaningless, intended merely to take up space in a conversation.

Other times my words can be sarcastic or biting.  I would hate to have those words permanently displayed for the world to see.

But I also thought of the words I DIDN'T say- those words of comfort or encouragement.  The times I should have spoken about the Cross but I didn't.  I imagined blank patches of flesh unmarked by any words at all.

So my personal challenge is this:  I must be aware of my words, whether I say so many foolish things that the tattoo would have to be compressed and squished together so that they all fit in the area.

But I must also be mindful that not enough of the right kind of words can be a sterile slate.

Think about these things.

At the end of the day, do you want your indelible words to be beautiful or an embarrassment?

Ode to a Sister-in-Law

Ode to a Sister-in-Law

Oh, masterful sister-in-law!

Gracious hostess, provider of playing cards

And massive slabs of barbecued meat.

How can I describe your many talents oh

Thou rememberer of all things directional?

Thou fair includer of friends olde and newe

For playing games and telling stories, embarrassing

And non.

Sharer of refrigerator, camper, and picnic table.

How does one describe thy virtues, thou

Leader of overboard outhousing?

Thou guider of husband, however futile.

Thou listener of father-in-law, however eternal.

Thou director of sisters-in-law whose only desire is

To lighten your load and receive your praise?

We bless you and praise your name to the heights

As an anchor in the householde of Sir Ronald.

Let me ring out the words of our hearts.

You done good.

Is It Just Me?

Am I the only person who negotiates with Spider Solitaire?

I strut up to the computer keyboard with great confidence, arrogance really.

"(Wo)man over machine," I tell myself. This is kid's stuff.  I will blast that game- after I toy with it a little bit.

I start with Level 2.  No Level 1 since it's too simple for me.  

I click on the deck of cards displayed on the lower right side of the screen.  Not much comes up to work with but I still have plenty of turns left. I am still confident.

I click again.  I can make several moves and my over-inflated ego expands even more.

"Oh, yeah.  Watch out, here I come!"

I click again.  Several more moves but no king through aces of the same color go over to my side.

"Hmmmmm.  Okay.  I have two more moves. I can still win if I can make a suit on this next turn."

Nothing.  Well, yes, I can move the cards around a little but no matches.

Here's where the negotiation begins:

"All right.  I can still win if I'm very careful."

Click.  I'm stumped.  Again.

"I would be happy if I can make ONE suit.  Just one.  I won't be fussy."

Click.  I lose.

"Maybe I'll do better on the NEXT game."

So much for negotiation.  


p.s.  One night I played so badly and for so long that I actually looked around ON THE FLOOR to see if I'd dropped any cards!

Vacation Excitement

Nothing is more eagerly anticipated than a vacation.

It stirs up thoughts of freedom and rest.  Or of  fun and excitement.

Some folks I know think waay ahead and shop for a new wardrobe.  They begin packing early.

Then there's me.

I kinda sorta know what I think I maybe will need.  Then I make lists that I promptly lose.

I know where I'm going most of the time but the other details remain fuzzy.

To me, if too much is planned it can't be much of a vacation.

Which always leads me to the mecca of all vacation spots:

Wal-Mart.

For some reason, Wal-Mart looms large in terms of vacation planning.  Although I can go to my local store 24/7 any day any time of the year it seems to hold more promise when vacation comes around.

I look around with the expectation that whatever is around the next aisle is the ONE THING I need to make this trip perfect.  New flerp flerps?  Of course! Little canvas bags and sun umbrellas and weird plastic plates and cups?  How could I have ever lived without them before this?

The place even smells exciting.  Now that one I can't explain.

Buying the disposable paper plates and wet wipes, the sunblock, floppy hat and magazine (that I'll save for the trip, of course) makes me unreasonably happy.

Perhaps it's simply the idea of fun and relaxation on a long awaited journey that makes Wal-Mart such an oasis. Even stepping into an out-of-town Wal-Mart implies that something cool is just around the corner.

Of course, when vacation is over for another year, Wal-Mart turns back into a pumpkin.  The lipgloss is just gooey stuff and beach towels are just towels.

But for that brief moment in time it signifies escape and freedom and fun.

And they even greet you at the door.

Celebration of Life...And Death

The month of May has been challenging to say the least.
(And the 'least' I say the better, right?)

Early in May my family had the privilege of hosting/attending the 90th birthday of my Dad.  It was fun to do, especially since my sister-in-law Sally did most of the work while the rest of us did whatever she wanted us to do.

For once.

Anyway, that gathering was a great blessing to me, as it brought many friends, family, and associates together to honor my Dad and let him know how he had influenced them over the years.

It was a blessing too because I was able to work alongside my siblings in a way we rarely-if ever-get to do.
I was able to witness what other families see as commonplace- everyone working together for a common goal.

I knew my Dad had gained many friends over the years.  But to hear them share their pleasure at being included in this celebration really showed me that I'm in a pretty cool family. It was a joyful experience.

The following week I was notified of the death of a dear church lady.  This widow lady was someone I would call a 'delightful disaster.'  Ruth was the smartest, sweetest, most clueless person I ever met.  Everyone who knew her would just smile, shake their heads and say, "Bless her heart."

My most memorable experience with Ruth was the time she asked me to go with her to her late husband's graveside.  Once we got there she pulled her ukelele out of it's battered case, sat down on the grave and began playing and singing, 'Won't You Come Home Bill Bailey?"  It felt weird; but not much really felt weird around Ruth.

Ruth never met an animal she didn't love; she had nicknames and endearments for everyone's pets and remembered their names.  Interestingly, one of her requests for those attending her viewing or funeral was to bring their pet.  As I stood beside her casket I thought it was somehow fitting that my dog Teddy was there too.

As I left the funeral home that evening, I was struck by how similar yet different these two life events were.

One, my Dad's birthday, was celebrating his long life and the gathering of dear friends.

The other, Ruth's funeral, was also a celebration. I couldn't help but celebrate that Ruth was finally reunited with her husband Don and her son Joe there in Heaven.  I thought about how we had honored someone's life so far and celebrated where someone else's life is headed.

I'm so happy for my Dad.  I hope he understands how much he is loved (and sometimes simply tolerated!) by his friends, family, and golfing buddies.  Not many folks get the chance to experience so many healthy years with such good people.

But I'm especially happy for Ruth.  We had our differences to be sure.  But I can just picture her in Heaven, sitting at Jesus' feet, greeting (by name) every dog-cat-parakeet-bunny-guinea pig that she had ever loved while on earth. I wouldn't be surprised if God put her in charge of the Celestial Zoo and Kennel.

Now THAT would be heaven for her.

Rubbing It In

I am not a gracious winner.

Since grade school I, like most of you, was taught to be a gracious loser.  As if we needed training to handle something rare.

We're supposed to shake our opponent's hand and say such lame things as
"Good game"
"Nice job"
"Great catch"

when we REALLY mean

"You jerk"
"You cheated"
"I was better than you."

The winner then is expected to humbly bow their head, scuff up the dirt with their dusty tennis shoe and mumble

"Aw shucks, it ain't nuthin.'"

Well, let me tell you what I do:

I rub it in.

When I win I celebrate my victory like it was Wimbleton.  The World Series. The Oscars.

I gloat, I poke, I do my dance of joy.

When it's in a conversation against someone and my side wins I insist the loser repeat "You were right"
until I'm satisfied. Sometimes it takes all day...

I stop at having them put it on Facebook but I'm seriously thinking about it.

So what if I'm not gracious?

It ain't nuthin.'

Understanding the Grief of Others

We really can't understand what we haven't experienced.

Or, more honestly, we'd like to understand it WITHOUT having experienced it.

I'd love to nod and give perfect wisdom to dear friends who experience pain and grief.

And it's so easy to give advice to someone who is indescribably burdened.  We quote verses and tell them to trust God.  We say 'This too shall pass."  And we go home.

Admittedly, it's very difficult for me to walk alongside someone who needs me in a crisis. Sometimes I want to cut and run.

I grieve as I watch friends and other loved ones suffer.  I want to get into the mix and fix it.

I want to hire a ninja.

But since I can't, all I can do is BE with the sufferer.  Not to say things or to heal anyone.  Just to be a calm/protecting presence in the crisis.

Only then can we begin to understand the grief of others.

You Have GOT To Be Kidding!

My sense of humor is often twisted.

Now quit rolling your eyes they might stick that way.

I think it's funny to be slightly inappropriate when it's least expected.  I have too many examples to name (perhaps those of you who know me would like to share...).

But even I have my limits.

Okay, admittedly I have very few limits but this is one of them.

White Castle scented candles.

Yes.

The bane of women and teenage-girls-on-dates everywhere White Castle.

Of course, I don't know if it's pre-eaten White Castle or post-eaten White Castle; either one strikes fear into my heart.

I have a 'no White Castles in my office' rule at work.  Seriously.  That room is just too small.

I have actually watched couples FIGHT over whether hubby should stop there on the way home. Or if he already had.

Anyway, I see(smell?) trouble looming.   I wonder if this is the beginning of the end for mankind. Instead of mace or pepper spray in our desk drawers or purses we have to carry portable febreeze.

Or we could propose a ban on matches.  After all, White Castle scented candles don't kill people- but lighting them might.

checking In

Hey Folks.

Just checking in to check to see if you've been checking up on me.

Check?

Check.

It's been a busy year so far although I can't tell you what has kept me so busy.  From talking to other people I don't seem to be the only person to experience this.

I've even taken to writing down in my day planner what I actually did that day.

 Apparently I'm a pretty busy gal.

This is when I'm supposed to talk to you about mindfulness; that being the habit of noticing and making sure you experience every moment of your life, making sure you appreciate and savor it all.

I realized not too long ago that most of us focus more on what's NEXT rather than what's NOW.  What we have to DO rather than what we're DOING.

It's time to stop and smell the roses, I think.  What good is life when it becomes a check list rather than an experience?

So I'm checking out right now to check in with my dear hubby and check out in front of the tv.

Check?

Check.

Be Careful What You Wish For

When the new year began I decided I was tired of the 'somedays' of my life.

SOMEDAY I'm going to keep all my lunch meeting promises with friends.

SOMEDAY I'm going to take my dog for more walks.

SOMEDAY I'll take MYSELF for more walks!

SOMEDAY I'll start planning to accomplish a few things on my bucket list.


So in my fervor to accomplish something I asked hubby Don to go away for a weekend so I can finally concentrate on writing my new book.  He was willing and I felt satisfied.

His weekend visit is now a weeklong trip to Florida to visit his family (I'm glad cuz his family is important).

But now I'm faced with the reality of doing what I set out to do- write my new book.

The 'what if's' that strike us all is in my face with a vengeance.

WHAT IF I can't express what I want to say?

WHAT IF I have writer's block?

WHAT IF I sound like every other Christian writer out there?

WHAT IF it is too long or too short when I'm done?

WHAT IF I have a stroke of genius and I get accused of plagiarism?

At any rate, I can rest in the fact that I'm not expected to produce a masterpiece with my first draft.

That's a comfort.

It's just that this next work is way deeper than my first one, "Lord, Shut Me Up!"  I'm already opening up some of my own pain and hurts from my past.  That's risky. Plus, um, it hurts.

So as I pray and write and pray some more, I have to admit that risk is risky and sometimes we have to be careful what we wish for.

We just might get it.

Wanderings and Ponderings

I've always known I don't think like other folks.  And other folks who think wonder what I'm thinking.

So here's what I think I've been thinking lately.

I've been visiting Pinterest quite a bit.  I love that it's like shopping without dragging a bored husband along.  It's like collecting magazine articles and photos without scissors (and I'm dangerous with scissors).

Such a variety of ideas and interests!  My collection of pins seems to be comprised mostly of rude comments and cute animals.

Culling through the assortment of available pins I often wonder how that photo was taken.  Where were they, how did they do it?  Some of my questions include the phrase, "Why bother?"  Oh, and/or "Who cares?" Let's not forget the classic "What IS it?"

But what has caught my attention lately are the cutesy pictures of the awwwwdorable baby photos.  Now I like baby pictures as much as anyone- not really- I only think MY babies were adorable.  All the others are simply tolerable.

So what I'm wondering lately is who ever thought to stuff sleeping babies in flowerpots and mailboxes?  What creative genius thought putting naked sleeping babies on flower petals was a good idea?  Is that legal?

And where did they find the babies?  Did they send out a request to talent agencies looking for naked sleeping newborns?  Cute naked sleeping newborns.  Cute naked sleeping newborns who could look even cuter wearing little angel wings and bumblebee costumes.

Or did the photographers sneak into hospital nurseries in the middle of the night, pick out the adorable one with the little headband on who just happened to be sleeping resting his/her little head in his/her cute little hand?

I worry about things like this!

In 20 years or so I can just picture a new client sitting in my office with this issue:

"It all began when I was a newborn..."

Adapting to Change

Helloooo all you frazzled hoomans!

When I was younger ( like in the days when Christmas tress were silver tinsel, rotated, and had a color wheel illuminating the tree in multi-colored splendor), Christmas was a fun time we could hardly wait to experience.  The decorations would majically appear when we came home from school.  The wish lists were sent to Santa but curiously never needed a stamp.  My Mom would stock up on pickles, black olives, and pickled herring (don't judge me).

But as I grew older I realized that all this magic was really loads of pre-planning and WORK. Having secret meetings with dear hubby while pretending nothing was going on during the day. Having one of us divert the kids while the other one tried to sneak packages into the house and hide them.

Like most families, we had traditions and procedures that veered little each year: Hubby reading Luke 2 while dear son squirmed with impatience to get to the presents.  Someone wearing the Santa hat and giving out the gifts.

When the kids were younger our Advent calendar was a 'must.'  We finally decided that they'd outgrown it when dear daughter graduated high school and went off to college.  Son just didn't think it was fun to count down the days till Christmas when it cut into his shaving time.

Now that my kids are grown, married, and living their own lives, Christmas has gotten more complicated.

Most of you in our situation experience the same thing:

What to do when the OTHER side of the family has plans.  Traditions and procedures.

Lots of families institute a kind of lottery- THEY get them this year but WE get them next year (never mind what the kids want).  Or YOU got them for Thanksgiving so WE get them for Christmas.

I've also noticed families who get mad/insulted when they have to adapt to the kids' choice to actually stay at home and develop their own holiday traditions.  Or they get irritated when the other side WINS when "they- don't-even-care-about-Christmas-like-we-do-so-why-are-they-being-so-spiteful-they-always-act-like-this-what-did-we -do-to-them-they-are-just-jealous."

So a rift develops between families because someone can't or won't adapt to change.  I'm often amused how we invest in family so they can live happy and healthy lives and then get offended when they attempt to do so.

I also have found it interesting how we gorge ourselves with cookies and treats and special foods when we have the recipes and could make them any time the rest of the year but I digress.

As challenging and scary as it is to adapt to change I think we need to do so.  Change can often be a transition toward something that is really beneficial to everyone.  As we adapt to change we can delegate some responsibilities to others, relax, and begin to enjoy the holidays like we used to. 

Hey!  Who baked the cookies using my recipe?  The decorations have majically been put up!  Where did those gifts under the tree come from?

Perhaps adapting to change is God's way of giving us back the child-like joy we once felt at Christmas.  Change might allow others to bless us by taking over the responsibilities we grew to find tedious.

Who know?  Maybe I'll have dear children climb up into the attic and look for that old Advent calendar.  I think it's MY turn to count down the days before Christmas.

Absence of Pressure

When I"m counseling clients I find I"m often counseling myself; many of the issues being discussed are either things I've also experienced or are thinking about myself.

Lately I've been spending precious brain cells thinking about 'absence of pressure'.  How someone (meaning me) reacts when there's an absence of pressure in their life.

We have all longed for peace and quiet while in the midst of great stress; how we'll just take a nap or a vacation or a Xanax...

But what do we do when the pressure/stress/crisis is over?  After the nap, etc. etc.

Do we move forward in our lives, stretching ourselves and investing in positive activities, relationships and experiences?

Or do we...do nothing. 

I've begun to accept that I tend to be a do-nothing-er.  I have good intentions (during the pressure).  Once this is over I'm going to:

Visit the sick and elderly
Invite all my neighbors to church
Write the soldiers serving overseas
Volunteer
Increase my client load by marketing more effectively
Write another book
More public speaking (Toastmaster's?)
Invest more in my siblings, siblings-in-law, their spouses and children
Spend more quality time with my parents

But ashamedly, I admit there's little pressure and I've done none of the things listed above.

As I continue to pray and determine which comes first (the CHICKEN!) let me challenge you to do the same. 

I'm not referring to New Years' resolutions or personal goals here.  I'm talking about how to move forward in life with a useful attitude. Fully engaged.  Pushing yourself to talk to those you love on the phone.  Write an email. Get out of your zombie zone and live.

Gotta go now.  My brain cells are warming up and are bugging me to be taken out for a spin.

Thanksgiving is Relative

Hey Gang!

Is it November already?  I've heard that life is like a roll of toilet paper- the closer you get to the end of the roll the faster it goes. That's certainly true with me lately.  I just got my holiday stuff from last year put away.

I think it's important to acknowledge Thanksgiving and take a moment to appreciate what God has done for us.  According to my clients, it can also be a time of stress stress stress as relatives, far and near, get together to enjoy the holiday.

'Enjoy' is relative, since what one person likes, another person can find totally cringe worthy(like cranberries).  At any rate, having a house full of humanity for any amount of time can be a nerve twister. 

My suggestion may be to stuff them full of turkey (or tofurkey for the health conscious) and let them sleep it off in front of the tv. Watching football, or golf.  Or the first showing of 'It's a Wonderful Life.'

I'm reminded of relative interactions in the past.  The time my turkey wasn't done until about 3 hours AFTER we'd already waited an extra hour to eat.  Believe you me, people get remarkably testy when they're hungry.  Our solution was to eat the side and the pie and have turkey for dessert.  It worked and digested the same.

And made us nap longer.

I also remember why we no longer allow dear daughter Kari to pray for our meals.  Ever.  She takes total control of the limelight, thinking it's funny to hold us captive with her tedious and meandering prayer.

"Lord, I'd like to thank you for...
This house, the universe, the oxygen, for technology, for my pink slippers, the missionaries, my brother Ryan, this food (especially the corn), my friends, our dog, electricity..."

When we'd interrupt her to say "Amen" she'd put on this wounded face and scold us:

"Mom, I can't believe you'd tell to stop praying." And she'd continue.

After this occuring several times I could sense the turkey, mashed potatoes, and yams were getting cold.  A few more prayers and I could envision the jello melting and the green bean casserole coagulating.  I desperately considered furtively loading everyone's place while she continued in prayer. 

Seriously, I think the girl took 10+ minutes to pray.

I hope the Lord wasn't insulted by my impatience.  I like to think even HE was wishing she'd end it.

So when I say Thanksgiving is relative, I am referring to the behaviors that become irritating (except with MY family...)when many diverse personalities are gathered together to have a great time and celebrate blessings. 

I think we need to focus more on WHY we are gathering in the first place and give thanks for that.

And for the comfort that, for the most part, relatives will eventually go home.

Reasons and Excuses

I've been noticing lately how easily we fall into a category and use it for an excuse.

For instance, I looked up many of the labels I've been guilty of giving myself. I'm a:

Leo
Sanguine
Otter
Golden Retriever
Left-Handed
Extravert
Intuitive/Feeler
Shepherd/Encourager
Last Born but only child
German/Swedish
Born Again believer

Wow.  I just read over the list and I should be very impressed with myself!

However, many of these descriptors can be used as a shield when we feel threatened to change.

"I act this way because I'm an otter."  "I can't be quiet because I'm an extravert."  "I'm a clown because I'm last born but treat me respectfully because I'm an intuitive/feeler."  "I'm goofy because I'm left-handed."
"I'm bossy because I'm a Leo."

This seems to be our reason (read-excuse) to blame others for not getting along with us!
No acceptance of our own attitudes or vanities or pride. 

Haven't you done this?  I know I have. 

I can't tell you the relief I have felt when some label excused my poor behavior.  It isn't me being a jerk;
it's my temperment, horoscope, birth order, Myers-Briggs results, spiritual gift, nationality.

BUT...

Using those labels to rationalize why we do what we do says we are helpless.  Victims to our circumstances.
Is that how we are to live?

I'd like to suggest we all ignore those labels.  Instead, let's dig our heels in when tempted to explain away why we are being pig-headed or fearful or controlling.  Let's turn our backs on accepting those excuses from our friends and family members too.

I'd like to think that God works in our lives and hearts IN SPITE OF those labels that have hindered us for so long.  He wants us to cast off the 'old man' and allow Him to give us a new life.

I love that part but it assumes we take responsibility for our reasons and excuses.

Here are some labels I'd love to embrace instead:

Loved,
Protected
Shielded
Empowered through His grace
Healed
Rescued
Lifted up

and best of all,

FORGIVEN