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.

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.

Coming Up For Air

It has been a looonng last few months. I haven't had time to do laundry (see prior blog) much less write on this blog.

It amazes me how time can fly when you're not thinking much or doing much.
I've been known to doodle away a week or so just getting lost in a book or shopping. I've become a fervent 'lady who lunches.'

But these last few weeks have dragged by. I've been dreading the passage of each day and here's why:

Change.

In January I was told that I needed to relocate my counseling office due to a change in ministry focus at Harvester Christian Church. They'd graciously extended scheduling and support since I'd become acquainted with them 9 years ago.

The process of striking out on my own and the details that are necessary really freaked me out.

I remember hearing this little inner voice (?) say, "I'm not old enough to do this."
Of course, I gave myself whiplash as I realized that I certainly AM old enough!
So that thought had to be surrendered.

Then dear daughter Kari told me she'd purchased her plane ticket to move to LA. I'd known for over a year that she and her husband Gareth had planned to make that move; that's why they were forcing themselves to live in our basement while working fiendishly to save up money to move.

It came to me that this was a big deal. That my family might never be the same as it was. That our future interactions would take work and planning.

My two weaknesses.

Along with that dear daughter was cast in a local production of Steel Magnolias.
Have you ever seen Steel Magnolias?

It's rough, I'll tell you. There was not a dry eye in the audience and I sobbed like a kid who dropped her ice cream cone on the ground.

I experienced grief and loss as I watched that play. It was a real tearjerker. And Kari played the Julia Roberts character who doesn't make it to the last scene.

I barely made it through that one.

So now she's moved forward in her life and Gareth will be joining her in a few weeks. I love her so much and will miss them both terribly. Everyone is telling me to Skype but I'm still trying to figure out how to email so it may take a while.

So now my office is moved, the pressure is off, and now it's time to come up for air. I feel like I've been in labor for three months.

I think I'll be okay. I'm blessed with helpful and irritating friends who love me too much to let me hide. They stayed away when I needed time to process stuff and kicked my rear end when I was overdoing it.
Believe me, when it's time to repay the favor I'll be there with great zeal...

I'm excited for the future, for the opportunities that might come my way.

But if you see me in the next few weeks, please ignore the twitch in my right eye and left shoulder. I've heard they will lessen over time.

Being Truthful

You know how I determine if I'm supposed to tell someone something that might offend them or hurt their feelings?

I don't want to do it.

I hem and haw and delay. I tell God that I'm just being patient and that maybe I misunderstood what I saw and/or heard. I mean, if I'm wrong it will create unnecessary pain in that relationship and who needs that?

But I've learned over time that my hesitation is a signal to me. It means my attitude and heart is right before God; when I do share my concerns with someone it's not because I can but because I have to.

When I was a much younger Christian, I thought it was my (gleeful) duty to point out the flaws of others.

Not necessarily to the offender, but to anyone within listening distance. I mean, I don't want a confrontation, right?

I realized later (having also been the recipient of that behavior and being really injured) that what I was doing was not helping the person. Rather, it was gossip.

So now I find it better to ask myself, "If I were in this situation, would I want to know?" If the answer is 'yes' I force myself to discuss it with the person. If the answer is "No, it wouldn't change anything or help" I keep it to myself.

I am not the Holy Spirit. I don't want to wave my righteous finger in front of anyone.

But if it were me and I knew the person talking to me did it for the right reason I'd be able to listen.

And hopefully change.

Puppy Love

I would have written sooner, really. My brain is filled with lots of stuff (or is it stuffing?) I want to share with you.

But I have been detained.
Derailed.
Hindered.
Sideswiped.
Kidnapped.
Dognapped.

Actually, of all the descriptive words mentioned above, the last one is the most accurate. I have been captured by the attentions of a dog.

A puppy.

This weird little black ball of fur- daughter Kari calls it a 'Lint Trap'- came into our lives two weeks ago.

And I haven't slept through the night since.

You'd think I had a newborn around here, what with the demands this little mutt has made on my oh-so-cushy life.

I call it a mutt because we're not really sure what he is. If we took a poll (and gambled with real money) the odds are that he's a labrador/chow mix and I'd be rich.

A Chowbrador or a Labchow.

At any rate, a dear(?) friend of mine rescued this stray puppy and brought him to me.

I resisted but was overtaken by the irresistible aroma of puppy breath. Baking chocolate chip cookies and fresh mountain air can't compete with the smell of puppy breath. Wars could be averted if, instead of cyanide gas, armies sprayed puppy breath.

I wasn't quite ready for a dog since the loss of Barney, my 17 year old beagle mix in June. But my friend (??) decided we were this little canine's only hope.

Don and I hemmed and hawed and reasoned and debated until finally...

Well, his name is Teddy.

I'll tell you more about this little guy but I might have to wait until he's past his teething phase.

He's clamped onto my pantleg and I'm having trouble getting to the computer.

Internal Battles

No, I'm not talking about what happens when you eat cranberries and then have a gulp of milk (I did that...once).

I'm talking about the old habitual self-talk that whispers into your brain and makes you think it's the truth.

The self-talk that reminds you of all your old mistakes and embarrassments; the fear that what you thought happened may not have gone that way at all.

When those thoughts/fears arise, what do you do?

I used to think that any second thoughts or negative feelings were an expression of being realistic:

Maybe I missed some social cues at the time and beating myself up was a way of taking responsibility and reminding myself that I shouldn't get too cocky.

I've learned over time that those thoughts and feelings are very inaccurate. When I work so hard at making something 'not about me' I'm ironically MAKING it 'about me!'

It takes surrender and the willingness to accept what trusted others say about you until you've learned how to see it for yourself. I'm often surprised when my trusted others are more impressed with me than I am with myself.

But I believe God puts people into our lives to provide us a forum for feedback and encouragement. Sometimes there are several people and often it's just one individual who we can bounce ideas off of and know we can get a realistic opinion.

I know I'm not alone in these internal battles; almost all of us question our choices and interpretation of events. That's why I'm so determined to be one of the trusted ones in people's lives.

So as I go about my day, I will mentally wrap all my self criticisms up and stuff them way back in my pantry (I never go there anyway). I will take a deep breath, brush my hair out of my eyes, relax my shoulders, and move ahead knowing that this whole life thing isn't all about me anyway.

Countdown Has Begun

So here's the challenging part of being challenged:

It's one thing to hatch a plan, have a great idea.

It's another thing to share your ideas and get feedback for them.

It's a whole different matter to work the details out so it goes off without a hitch.

Cuz there are hitches built into everything we try to accomplish; if it were easy we'd have done it a long time ago.

When I think of trying to do things all by myself in my own strength I get tired.
I can't think of every possible factor to host a successful event. And by the time I did take care of details I'd be so 'over it' I wouldn't care anymore.

But I have friends who know a lot about a lot of things. I'm relying on them to step in and use their talents in allowing me to concentrate on the show I'm planning to host tomorrow night.

This ought to be fun. And weird. And different. And memorable.

I just sat at McDonald's for 4 hours while I wrote my comments on 3x5 cards. It took 44 cards and I had to stop cuz I ran out of ink.

So I'm all set (unless I drop the cards during the event).

Or I get writer's cramp.

See you tomorrow!

Event Update

New news for you:

In an effort to keep costs down and ease some planning pressure, I've decided to host my "Evening with Karen Wasoba" at my office conference area.

Official address is 4025 N. St. Peters Parkway, St. Charles, MO 63304

It's a smallish room but we're a creative bunch; the closeness will add ambiance...

So I've become aware of an undercurrent of excitement on the part of my friends and family. Many helpers have stepped forward and comments have been positive.

It's actually kind of weird to be preparing for this. Usually my speaking topics are very deep, serious, and spiritual.

Not this time!!

Let's hope you have as much fun listening as I'm sure I'll have sharing.

See you soon.

Courage to Change

Have you noticed how easy it is to encourage someone else to do something challenging, yet when you're the one being pushed to change it's an entirely different story?

I find myself constantly weighing and measuring what I say vs. what I do. I can acknowledge that it's one thing to urge a friend to try new things; it's easy to observe the outcome and, honestly, doesn't involve any personal risk.

But MAN, I seem to be reading from a different instruction manual when it's all up to me. Suddenly I can rattle off every excuse known to man why it's not going to work in my case. Any joy or excitement (or knowing God is blessing me) dissipates when I'm the 'chosen one.'

I remember when I was still in college- my best friend, Terrie, and I were very competitive about speech class. We were always somehow trying to get the best grades. In doing so, I think we motivated each other to a level of success I know I wouldn't have worked for alone.

Here's why:

Terrie loved speech, public speaking, and all things drama related. I, on the other hand, had stage fright and feared blanking out in front of my peers. The night before many speech days I'd pray for death, the Rapture, some freak accident. I'd beg the Lord to give the speech teacher amnesia. That there'd be a hurricane or tsunami that would somehow delay my turn in front of the class(without losing points, of course).

So, up comes a speech competition open to all students, but the speech students are required to enter. The best 10 speeches then got to speak in front of the entire student body (maybe 1,000 students) at chapel. Terrie was geared up for it, looked forward to it, and spent lots of time diligently preparing to move forward in the competition.

I, on the other hand, just focused on not forgetting my lines. That's all.

So the magical day arrives when they announce the 10 students' names; those chosen ones who will gleefully show their stuff in chapel on that special day.

I'm totally pumped- for Terrie. I'm all into encouraging her to accept she was going to be named and that she'd enjoy it. I strutted around acknowledging that I had a talented friend. I made a big big deal over pointing to her with a knowing look when the contestants names were being called.

And I was right! Terrie was named and I was so happy for her! She really deserved it.
But then... my name was called next.

So here's the point.

I totally wilted. I felt like the judge had just sentenced me to life in prison. I began crying in fear of having to move out of my comfort zone by speaking in chapel.

It was awful. My memories of those days and weeks in preparation are dim as I reacted in fear and looked at the challenge as a death sentence.

Back to now:

I'm being challenged right now to step out of my comfort zone. I'm excited and terrified. I can think of all the reasons why this step won't succeed. Depending on my attitude, I will either be a shining success or a dismal failure.

It's funny, really, how inconsistent we are. I have to be honest with myself to admit that the same rules of encouragement I apply to others must also apply to me. Stepping out in faith means believing God will sort it all out. My job is just to do the stepping.

I've got some stuff swirling around that I'm working on. Some new ideas and some risks I'm hoping to take. I'll try to keep you guys in the know about them.

By the way, I did fine in the competition. I prepared, walked forward when they called my name to speak, did what I could, and sat back down. I didn't win, but I lived to talk about it.

Some 35 years later.

More Painful Philosophy

Hey Everyone!

I've been slacking a bit on blogging, haven't I?

My reasons (excuses) are extensive and varied but it all comes down to this:

I've been trying to hibernate.

I don't know about you, but I consider myself a pretty strong and resilient person.

At least that's what I tell myself.

I can handle crisis and conflict, financial and even physical downturns.
I understand trials and realize they're (hopefully) temporary.

But once the real pain-physical, emotional or spiritual-hits I tend to take a tumble.
So here's where I expound eloquently about my concept of pain and the fact that I know God is still in control of my life:

It. Stinks.

Pain, that is.

But here's the thing:

I don't have to like it. I think anyone who isn't honest about their feelings about painful experiences is disrespecting the experience.

Lately several folks who hold a special place in my heart have been going through some terrible times.

Not unfortunate times or difficult times, but really gut-wrenching-I-may-not-live-through-this-or-even-want-to times.

And despite the fact I'm not personally experiencing this horror, in a big way I am.
And it hurts even second-hand.

So here's where my truthiness comes in:

It's awful and I'm hurting and I'm irritated and exhausted.

But all is not lost.

My reaction to pain is real but so is my response to the experience.
If I'm to learn something from it PLEASE let me learn it well.
Don't allow me to recoil from relationships lest I risk my own injury as I help others deal with theirs.
As a believer in Christ, it's phony to act all put-together when inside I'm falling apart.
So pain is real. My dear ones' experiences are real.

But God is Real-er.

Funny Thing About Getting Old

I've made some interesting observations about what it's like to get old(er).

It ain't all that bad, really.

Who would have ever imagined living to be eligible for senior citizen discounts without showing your ID? I'm at the age where the only time I get carded is when some muscle-bound security guy at a music venue wants to make me feel good about myself; either that or he doesn't want me to feel left out being the only person there NOT being carded!

At any rate, getting on in years isn't as negative as one might think. I don't rush out to buy the newest fashion trends since odds are I already have something like it in my closet from decades ago. Admittedly, shopping isn't as fun as it once was because I often feel like I've seen all this stuff before (when I could fit into it). Daughter Kari once asked me why I didn't keep some of the clothes I wore in the '70's. I told her, "Honey, it was ugly then and it's ugly NOW."

Even my career as a counselor benefits because with age comes wisdom. Since I'm over 40 (just barely), married and have adult children I'm seen as more credible. Maybe I should build a cabin on a mountaintop for people to seek me for all my sage advice (I'd better practice sitting cross-legged).

What makes growing older the most fun is this:

My friends are growing old along with me.

We can laugh together and understand what we're talking about. We can hassle the cute waiters at restaurants without fear of seeming creepy. We can make numerous trips to the bathroom and no one bats an eye.

Yes, aging has its downside but we won't worry about that today. When the gloomies get us we know we can blame it on hormones and hot flashes. We can call a do-over when we've said or done the wrong thing.

So getting older isn't all that bad. It's made me appreciate my parents and those in my life who've been here before. What they've said and done makes a bit more sense now.

I'm going to sign off now. I'm heading to the mall to snag some senior citizen discounts. I hear they've got a great deal going on support hose and Depends.

Texting is Trouble

A texting glitch nearly cost me a good friendship today.

For a long time I've ranted about the aggravations technology brings to our lives. I've referred to my experiences in a previous blog. I've spoken of it humorously but it really isn't funny.

Many relational arguments are created by websites, chat rooms, Facebook, instant messages and texts. Anger/hurt due to misunderstandings often create rifts between people that can be nearly impossible to close. We assume the wrong was intentional and don't ask for clarification.

We've been taught to believe technology over the word of a human being. Protestations of innocence are drowned out by irrefutable(?) facts; if there's a difference of opinion then there must be deliberate deception.

I want to suggest that technology isn't always foolproof; my experience today convinced me.

I had made plans with my friend earlier in the week and we needed to firm up our plans for today. So I texted her around 6:00 p.m. last night. I was slightly surprised as the evening went on that I hadn't heard from her.

Still hearing nothing, I went to bed around 11 p.m., assured we'd make plans in the morning.

My cellphone burped and chirped @ about 1:15 a.m. relating a message that scolded me for not contacting her and that she was going to bed. I got another text this morning telling me she was letting me off easy because I'd upset her (and woke her up) by texting her at 1:30 a.m.

Only... I was asleep at 1:30 and had sent that message at 6p.m. and she was just now getting it.

So here she was, upset and unable to get back to sleep due to a delayed message. I'm sure she was imagining all sorts of evil against me (at 1:30 in the morning who wouldn't?) because I was so thoughtless.

When we did meet this morning we both held up our cellphones and looked at each other's times and messages to confirm what had happened.

It turns out that we had BOTH messaged each other at about the same time and neither one of us got our texts in a timely manner. Forcing ourselves to discuss it helped us both to be able to confirm what really happened.

We got to talking about how many relationships are damaged because of a delay in transmissions, each person feeling hurt and disrespected. It convinces me that we must fight to maintain control over technology and that we need to be willing to listen to conflicting stories.

So here's the thing. How many times have we assumed that machines can't lie? That someone is trying to fool or cheat us? That we are being made a fool of?

How many times have we been told otherwise and we've refused to believe it?

Take my suggestion: Double check what you see vs. what you are told. Talk it over and respect your relationships by listening and being willing to accept inconsistencies. Be willing to consider that technology may be wrong.

After all, didn't man create the machines?

New Years Resolution Part One

When you get to be my age (black and white tv,3 channels) there are more examples of resolutions that didn't get very far.

There were the well-meaning promises to be nice, to be helpful to my mother, and to keep my room clean that didn't make it past the first week or so.

Then came the vows to do better in school, to be popular, to perfect a hobby, and to quit being sassy. Again, those vows went kaput.

I moved on to more meaningful, deeply spiritual promises. I would read the Bible faithfully, I would become a prayer warrior, I would evangelize the world. That one died when I lost my Bible and finally found it three months later under a cushion in our living room.

Next came the self-improvement resolutions: no candy, no soda, no junk food, more good food, more exercise, more make-up, more beauty regimens. This one probably took up more of my mental energy as I always renewed my promises but always failed to meet my own standards.

For many years thereafter I gave up resolutions. I self-righteously believed that if I was supposed to be doing something good I shouldn't have to have a special Day to begin doing it.

What a cop out.

So here's what I've been thinking lately: I'm really good at knowing what I'm supposed to do but not doing it. It'sbeen an excuse for me to do nothing; I mean, where do you begin with a list that long?
I'm convinced that most of us are aware of what we SHOULDN'T do in our lives. We know we shouldn't stick our tongues out at people, shouldn't skip in line, shouldn't interrupt. Self-control seems to be the best method for personal growth.

So here goes:

I resolve that I will not shirk my responsibilities.

By that I mean when I become aware of a task that needs to be done I will not pretend I don't see it. There is the obvious meaning of chores and laundry and picking up stuff.

But there's also the habit I have of overlooking my value as a child of God. Of not stepping up and accepting my responsibility of being loved.
So many times I find myself avoiding a blessing because I'm convinced it was meant for someone else. I joke my way out of it or use diversion instead of basking in it.

There are requirements involved with this resolution. The main one is to receive and enjoy that love. Another one is to not freak out when faced with such an honor. Don't downplay it.
It is what it is.

I also resolve to not avoid my relationships with other people for fear they aren't being equally blessed.
I need to remind myself that relationships are a great way to learn about ourselves, good or bad. Do I refresh my friends? Do they refresh me? Am I able to tell them the truth and can I hear it from them?
The same goes with family members. We will not always get along. But when I shirk my responsibilities I am making a statement with my behavior that they will never change. I categorize them and take away our future together.

Enough said. I have more resolutions to share with you in future blogs. But I want to challenge you to think about your own 'non-resolutions' this year.

What won't YOU do?


(Don't forget to pass this blog along to your friends and family. Who knows what might be the right word at the right time?)