I Need My Gratitude Filter Back in Place

I am feeling sorry for myself today. Getting through the holidays with a broken elbow was not easy, but I did manage. My kids pitched in more than usual, and it all worked out. But now, Christmas is over and I can’t get the decorations put away.  My blind husband wants to help, but he just makes more things for me to clean up. People did offer to help me when I really didn’t need the help while my kids were here.  What I would like is someone else to fix and clean up dinner. I would like someone else to clean the house.

I have lost my gratitude filter and I really need to find it again.

Usually I am so grateful for all that I have. Usually, I find the good in even the darkest of days. I don’t know why I am so grumpy and displeased with everything around me.  I need a do-over for this day.

There is a beautiful sunset in view out my dining room window. It is rather spectacular. I am blessed that I can see it. I can describe it to my blind husband, but I could never really do it justice.  I am grateful that I can see. My house is warm and cozy. We have a refrigerator full of holiday leftovers.

I am blessed, and I will find my gratitude filter once again.

Wise Words While Waiting in the ER

Today while waiting in the ER for the paperwork to come through for my x-rays, I was chatting with a grandparent of a former student at my school where I was a principal. He told me that I was way too young to be retired. I told him that I did retire a bit early because I was out of integrity with what I know to be right in meeting the needs of our youngest children in school. I shared about taking away play time and expecting all five year olds to be fluent readers when the eye muscles do not fully develop, especially in boys, until age eight. Yet we tell the parents of these still developing five year olds that something is “wrong” with their child. 

He asked who was making us do the things I thought were not right. When I shared that the legislators who base their thinking on their own gifted children’s performance were the ones making the decisions, he said, “Gifted? You mean wealthy, right?”  While these two words are not supposed to be synonymous, somehow, they really kind of are when it comes to school success.

Then, he said that I should use my retirement and my expertise to change things. I told him my staff had encouraged me to go to Columbus and be a voice. He asked me what was stopping me.  I really didn’t have an answer.

I will be taking to heart this wise gentleman’s words. 

How Long Does The Lesson Really Need To Be?

As I ponder the forced stillness, relatively speaking, due to a broken elbow, I am sad about not being able to do my favorite two things – play my guitar in our Praise Team at church and swim laps. I don’t find out until tomorrow how long I have to give up these most important activities in my life.  Part of me doesn’t even want to hear the verdict.

I made it through Christmas and even held my baby granddaughter some, although she is at the very wiggly stage now and it was not an easy thing to do one-armed.

I can’t put away my Christmas decorations.

I can’t scrub pots and pans.

I can’t take off my bra by myself.

But those things don’t bother me nearly as much as my swimming and guitar playing.

I am guessing there is supposed to be a lesson here. I don’t have a clue yet what that is.  I figure that tomorrow’s news from the specialist will be in direct proportion to how much time it will take my thick brain to get it.

For a smart girl, I just can’t reckon with how slowly I learn life’s most important lessons. I usually am a quick-study, but sometimes I think I make this harder than it needs to be.  Praying for open ears to hear what I need, and may the lesson-learning time be short!

A One-Armed Christmas Eve

While delivering my homemade plate of cookies to a neighbor, I tripped over a rock at the edge of their sidewalk and broke my elbow.  There really isn't a good time for this to happen to anybody, but a few days before Christmas was certainly not in the plans!


Now today is Christmas Eve.

As I sit here thinking of all I want to get accomplished today and how I can do none of it on my own with only one arm, I am repeatedly reminded that these "things" I want done really have nothing to do with why this day is my favorite day of the year. Yes, I want my family traditions to take place today, but if they don't happen just like I want them to, I cannot forget the joy this day brings to the world. The day when all Christians remember, if only briefly whose they are, a powerful, yet peaceful presence surrounds us. Even before I became a Christian, I was aware of something different on Christmas Eve, and I wanted to know that peace for myself. It was this evidence of the peace of Christ that led me on my life's journey, and I am ever grateful. The special things I like to do really have nothing to do with what is really important.

I am forced to reckon with this, and it really is okay.

Enough Adulting for the Day

Some friends are posting pictures on Facebook of a beautiful beach vacation.  While I am shoveling the snow from my driveway, they are bathing suit-clad, with drink in hand; on pristine white sands with azure, calm waters in the background. I am trying to be happy for them in their leisure time. Instead, I am fighting the green-eyed monster of jealousy.

I have worked hard all of my life. I have spent countless hours trying to make a living by helping others to make a better life for themselves, yet somehow, the bank account never seems full enough to plan for a vacation. I haven’t really had a vacation for several years. I would like to be on a beach too. The ocean is my favorite place to be and it has been too long since I have been able to enjoy my time there.

To make matters worse, I know that my friends have had tough economic times too. They have made it through them and now are enjoying the fruits of their labor. They deserve to do just that.  But don’t I too?

It is hard to rejoice for others when they get what is out of reach for ourselves. I know that I need to look to God for my rest, and not a beachfront hotel room. But sometimes it would just be nice to be the one with the beautiful photos on Facebook.

I guess I need to start a vacation savings account. Then, even when the bills are screaming for more than I have to accommodate, I will have another pot to pull from. 

That is enough adulting for today.

Hallmark Movie Sad

Just wiping the tears after watching another Hallmark Christmas movie. It makes me wonder why these movies all make me cry. I am aware of so many blessings in my life, and yet, when I watch these movies, there is an empty, lonely part of me that is longing for something just out of reach. I am not quite sure, however, exactly what that is all about.

I have a beautiful home, three beautiful children who are happy in their grown-up lives. I have two amazing granddaughters and a husband who dearly loves me. I have a fulfilling life and so much to be grateful for. What could I possibly be longing for?

There is a part of me that feels alone.

My children live in other places, and I don’t get to spend much time with them.  I hardly get to watch my grandbabies grow, only getting a day here or there about once a month or less.

My husband is blind and cannot help with anything around the house. As a matter of fact, I have extra things to do to clean up after him since he cannot see the everyday messes.

Our finances are tight and we haven’t had a vacation in years with none on the horizon.

I guess these realities are weighing more heavily on my heart than I care to admit.

I want a Hallmark movie life. Yet, I have been given more than that. I have been given a calling and a purpose that is beyond my imaginations.  Then why do I feel sad?

I guess it is just Hallmark movie sad. It isn’t really sad. When I put my thoughts and focus on the living Christ in me, I am immediately restored to wholeness once more.

Perhaps it is a good thing that I don’t imbibe in these back-to-back movies too often. I sure don’t want to forget Whose I am. Not ever!

Learning to Live Loved

Last night I was able to participate in a conference call to learn to tap into the powerful energy of love. As I continue to ponder the powerful presence of that loving community from last night’s call, I am wondering how much more healing of old wounds still needs to take place.

Growing up in a home with only conditional love, and where I could never seem to meet those conditions, I have spent many decades undoing the hurt and pain. I really think I am close to being fully healed, but there is a tiny part that pops up now and then still screaming quite loudly that I am unworthy to be loved.

I am so looking forward to embracing this community of love and truly and FINALLY learn to receive without parameters. Just trying to picture what it might be like to actually live loved every moment of ever day.  Makes me smile just thinking about it!

Two Things

Two out of the ordinary things happened yesterday. One was an amazing, exciting blessing. The other was a very hard pill to swallow. While reveling in the amazing, wonderful thing, it was easy to not think about the other. Yet, all night long, my unresolved emotions around the other kept waking me up, reminding me of my imperfections and my less-thans.

This morning, I resolved to not allow the difficult thing to overshadow the blessings of the joyous. It is hard, but I have come to realize that as I put my focus on Papa, it becomes much easier.

The biggest effort for me is to allow the joy even though there is this huge hurdle that I still will need to navigate.

It made me ponder my reactions when these two things happened so close together. I received both pieces of news literally in minutes of one another. Yet, for the first time in my life, I did not jump on the emotional roller-coaster. I feel like I have finally matured a bit in this arena, and that is a very good thing.

Two huge things with two opposite effects. Yet, here I stand—whole and centered in the love of the Father. And I am at peace.

His Presence Is With Me

Today I spent some time in my previous work place. It looks the same, but it definitely does not feel the same. As one enters the door, the tension is very evident. There seems to be so many unsaid things pressing on the hearts of those still there. I saw those who remember what it used to be like when the place was welcoming and brimming with love, and they were sad in their current state.

When I worked there, I prayed many, many times over that building and its people. I made it my goal to create a warm and friendly atmosphere. I continually sent the message that this was a place where people cared about one another. Now that I am gone, I am left wondering why that all left with me?

I don’t think I have a magic touch. I know I am not all that skilled or gifted, but what I brought to my work was the presence of the Lord.

It is a dreary, miserable place when the Lord is mostly absent. 

I am sad for those still there. Their hearts are longing for what used to be, and I am so sorry that it left with me. I didn’t expect that to happen. I thought things would carry on without me. They didn’t.

I wish I had words of hope for those still there. I don’t. Some have left. Some are planning to leave. Some feel stuck. Yet the reality is that it isn’t about one leader. It’s about a decision to welcome all that is good and to reject and reframe the negativity.

I know they have that ability, but unless one recognizes where the real power lies, they become like a leaf—dried, brown, and blown about in the cold, dreary winds of winter.

I will pray for their spring of new life. I will pray for the goodness of the Lord to return to them. I will pray for hearts of sweetness once again. Where the presence of the Lord is, there is a peace that is beyond our comprehension.

I will also rejoice in knowing that when I am present, so is He.

Unforgiving Dog

I am rather new to doggie-hood.  I never really had a dog growing up, and it wasn’t until my son got out on his own and found Boone—the best dog in the entire world—that I started to understand the amazing joy that dogs can bring.  Boone is so smart and was so much fun in his younger years.

My daughter and her husband got a dog that was very different. Tonks is a much more high maintenance doggie, but very loving nonetheless. I don’t really like taking her for walks because she has her own opinion about which way we should go, but for the most part she and I get along quite well, and she is so amazing with my young granddaughters.

My husband and I have only been married a year. He had his dog, Sable, for over twenty years, and I was getting very used to her doggie-ways as well. Jon is visually impaired, and he moved to Ohio to be closer to me. As Jon’s vision began getting worse, I had to start doing most of the extra things for Sable such as baths and eardrops. I found her to be very stoic when I had to perform these tasks. She would just look sad, and stand very still until we would finish. When the job was done, she would prance and leap again, being the happy dog I knew her to be.

Now we have a service dog in the house. His name is Grizzly, and while he is mostly loving, I am finding that it is very hard for him to forgive me when it comes to the ear drops.  Even when I show him open hands and offer a treat, he will glare at me, grab the treat and not let me love on him at all.  This will go on for many hours after the ear drops, and sometimes even days. I am not used to an unforgiving doggie.

As I began pondering Grizzly’s unforgiving attitude, it seemed quite interesting to me how different these dogs in my life have been. I have always been quick to forgive others, and so it has been rather heartbreaking to have Grizzly turn on me so quickly. Just when I think we have built some trust again, his left ear gets inflamed and I have to start the ear wash again.  It makes me wonder how we teach forgiveness. I really don’t know how to do that.  I was born with a personality that wants to make things better around me. Forgiveness is such an important aspect in that process.

Grizzly will run from me most of the day today, expecting the worst from me (those awful drops in the ear!). I just want to love on him and let him know that I am trying to help him stop scratching. He doesn’t understand that I am helping him.

I wonder how many of us have lived in a state of unforgiveness when we really didn’t understand all of the circumstances? I wonder how many lost moments of fellowship have happened because of wrong expectations?

I am learning about unforgiveness from our doggie, but I want to know how to turn it around. 

I sure am open to suggestions!

We Have What We Asked For

Today, I was pondering the mess our country is in, and I was reminded of how we got ourselves into this place to begin with.  In the eighth chapter of I Samuel, the people demanded that Samuel, the Lord’s prophet, find a king to rule over them.  He was getting up in years and they wanted to be like the other nations around them. They wanted a person to lead them (vs. 4) and to fight their battles (vs. 20).

Samuel was disturbed by this and asked the Lord what to do.  God told him to tell the people what would happen if they appointed a King.  Samuel told the people exactly what God said. They king would:

a.     Take the young men to create a military (vs. 11)

b.     Decide which jobs those young men could have (vs. 12)

c.      Use the young men to make weapons of war (vs. 12)

d.     Make their daughters to have to work outside their home as beauticians, waitresses and cooks (vs. 13)

e.     Take the best of their crops (vs. 14)

f.      Take a tenth of their grain and wine as a tax to support his staff (vs. 15)

g.     Take the best of their animals and servants for his own use (vs. 16)

h.     Put a tax on their flocks, making them no better than his slaves (vs. 17)

He also said that the people would not like these things and would complain about them, but to not expect God to answer (vs. 18).

Samuel tried one last time to dissuade them, and once more asked the Lord what to do.  His answer?  “Listen to them and give them a King.” (vs. 22).  He told Samuel that he should listen to the people because they were not rejecting the prophet, but God Himself as their King. (vs. 7).

I guess we have now what we asked for.

Sitting in the Hallway

Today I am feeling a bit down and discouraged. I still do not understand the plans that God has been preparing for me. I still do not really know what to expect, and I have been trying to not have expectations at all.  That is not an easy thing to do.

I have been a planner all of my life. I have made my way in the world by organizing my thoughts and then implementing my decisions. It has worked pretty well for me, although most of my endeavors did not turn out they way I had imagined.

It’s all good, though.  The first thing I do—before the decision is even started—I  pray. I ask God to lead me and to open the doors that need to be opened and shut the doors that should be shut. I guess I might have done a better job of asking which doors  I should even acknowledge, and then maybe I wouldn’t have had so many hallway experiences.

So, I here I sit in the hallway once again. Doors are shut all around me, and I am waiting. I am waiting for the right door to open so that I can once again partner with Papa—the thing I want most in life!

It is hard to not let the blues set in. It is hard to not think about the over-stretched bank account and the opportunities that still are out of reach for me to change that. It is hard to stay focused on trusting Him, when things are so silent.

Here I sit in the quiet, left to my own thoughts. Sometimes that is not a good thing—especially when the old tapes start playing again: you are unworthy; you are too much and not enough; no one cares about you… blah…. Blah….blah.

I will remember who I am, and the purpose that I have been created to fulfill, but that means sitting in the hallway, waiting once again.

I will  remember that being a part of Papa’s great adventures is well worth wait!

Spirit of Jonah

What do you do when God calls you to something so big and amazingly huge? It makes me feel even smaller and less equipped. Today, I am wrestling with those feelings of unworthiness and wondering why He would choose little ole’ me for such an enormous and important task. 

I keep coming back to Jonah. God asked Jonah to go to the great city of Ninevah. The inhabitants of Ninevah were continually committing evil acts, and Jonah wanted God to destroy the city. He was angry that God would even consider giving them an opportunity to repent.  So instead of going where he was told to go, he went in the opposite direction. 

Of course we know the story – the ship he was on almost became lost in a horrible storm until the crew threw Jonah overboard. Then God made a giant fish to swallow up Jonah and for three days in the belly of the fish, Jonah was able to repent of his disobedience. I suppose spending 72 hours in a giant fish’s gullet would cause anyone to repent, but the task was not in Jonah’s heart.  When he was spit out onto land again, he did what he was told, but he was not happy about it.

Then to make matters even harder for him, as soon as Jonah said what God told him to, all of the people of Ninevah repented. Talk about ticked!  Jonah wanted God to destroy these evil people, and here God was giving them another chance.  Jonah was one unhappy camper. God tried to teach him with the gourd vine about his place in God’s plans. I imagine Jonah still didn’t really like the outcome.

Okay, so what caused the people of Ninevah to repent?  Certainly not because Jonah had a heart of love and compassion to help them see the goodness of God. It had to be the Spirit of the Lord that took the veil from their eyes.

I am praying for that same spirit—the spirit that was upon Jonah—to go before me.  Unlike Jonah, I do have compassion for the people I am called to wake up. I care about them, and I want only good for them. But it will take an anointing from God to open eyes and help hearts heal--really seeing what He wants them to see.

It is not about me. It never has been. I hope whoever is reading this will stand with me in this giant task ahead. May the spirit that was upon Jonah spread over the people I am sent to and may eyes be opened to truth as we work together to heal our land.

Expert

Expert. Maybe it is the word itself that makes me want to hide in a cave somewhere. Being considered an expert in helping victims find their voice is like telling someone you are an expert at parenting. Every parent knows quite well the agony of the many failures we have all experienced when dealing with children. Thankfully, our kids usually accept the misfires and will eventually focus on the big picture.  That only happens, however, when we have successfully sent the message that we love them, even amidst the times it might not have appeared that way.  

Shifting an entire culture from one where bullying and unkind words are acceptable to one of kindness and compassion is a rather tall order.

I’m no expert. I have some ideas. I have some strategies. I have some experience, and I definitely have passion. Does that make me an expert?  According to the dictionary, I guess it does¹, but somehow, I have coupled the term “expert” with that of success. When the culture actually changes because of my expertise, then yes, the term expert is fitting. But what if the change is slow in coming? Am I still an expert? What if the change never happens? Do I lose my title?

I think I would rather be known as someone who cares and wants to make a difference. Expert or not, I want to be the change.  The thing is, I know that I can’t do this alone. The word expert seems to imply that one person can solve the concern, and that just is not the truth. It takes as all, and we all need to learn skills and find our passion to make this shift. I know I cannot do it by myself, so please don’t call me an expert.  Call me someone who wants all of you to come alongside and get busy finding our voice to change our world.

¹having or showing special skill or knowledge because of what you have been taught or what you have experienced. 

"Expert." Merriam-Webster.com. Accessed November 5, 2016. http://www.merriam-webster.com/dictionary/expert.

Letter to the Editor

I submitted this to our local paper, but they would not print it because WHIO is I guess not considered newsworthy:

Dear Editor,

I have read through the comments of many responding to the video from WHIO Channel 7 News that was posted on Facebook regarding  bullying that took place, resulting in a tragic death by suicide of a young girl.  Many of those commenting seem to truly believe that the school district turned a blind eye when they were made aware and did not appropriately handle the bullying situations.

I do not have any first-hand information about the district’s dealings nor the victim or the victim’s family, however, I do know we have a multiple systems failure that will not be resolved until we as a community stop pointing fingers and stop placing blame on everyone else.  We all are to blame and we need to stop expecting the schools to fix all the ills of society. We all must start figuring out ways to shift our culture.

Emile Durkheim was known as the father of sociology and his stance more than a century ago was to reject the notion that education had the ability to transform culture and resolve all that ails society. Instead, Durkheim surmised that education “can be reformed only if society itself is reformed.” His stance was that education “is only the image and reflection of society. It imitates and reproduces the latter…it does not create it” (Durkheim, 1897/1951: 372-373).

Jamie Vollmer (2010), in his book, “Schools Cannot Do It Alone,” cites a long history of blame placed on the schools for not doing their job.  His list goes back to 1879 (pp 92-94). This is not new. But lets play this out.

Say the school was aware that bullying had taken place. Consequences were administered which would most likely result in suspension for up to ten days for the first offense, and possibly an expulsion should things escalate and not improve.  What is the outcome?  Did the bully’s heart change because of a suspension or even an expulsion?  My guess is that most bullies who are suspended for their behaviors feel more affirmation than remorse. I am not saying that school consequences are not necessary.  They send a message to others that these behaviors are not tolerated.  However, it does not typically end the behavior of the bully.

We have a heart problem, not a school problem.  Where were the supports for this precious young lady who, while spared from cancer, did not know she had value and purpose?  Whose job is it to create systems to build a culture of caring and compassion?  Whose job is it create a climate of kindness where mean and hateful behaviors are never tolerated?

I say the blame is with us all.  Who will go with me to make a change?

Linda S. Locke, PhD

(937) 536-5811

www.amazon.com/author/lockel

www.lindaslockephd.com

www.facebook.com/LindaSLockePhD

Durkheim, E. (1897/1951). Suicide, A study in sociology. New York: Free Press.

Vollmer, J. (2010). Schools cannot do it alone: Building public support for America’s

public schools. Fairfield, IA: Enlightenment Press.

Synchronicity Part Two

Synchronicity.   I like the sound of this word.  I really, however, didn’t understand it until recently. I might have thought things happened coincidentally and I might have marveled at how splendidly things fell into place from time to time. When I became a believer, I did give credit to God for orchestrating good things to happen at just the right time, but I never really thought about how His desire to see each of us live out our purpose requires a compilation of moments that have been specially designed to open new avenues that are beyond our wildest imaginations. Who but God could arrange a chance meeting with an acquaintance that would cause a stranger to connect and open new pathways? Who but God could ensure that one is placed in just the right place at just the right time for this connection? Who but God equips us with just the right words spoken in just the right way that stirs the hearts of others to join the path?  Synchronistic moments are astonishing each and every time we are aware of them, and yet there is nothing we really do on our own to make them happen. They are a reminder that this life is bigger than we are, and as we decide to partner with what Papa is doing, they become more vivid and real to us. I want to see synchronicity more and more because it is through these moments that I am reminded how little ole’ me is part of something huge and important and certainly outside of self. We are all created to want to be part of an adventure. Hop on the synchronicity bus with me – it will knock your socks off!

Backwards All Along

I Corinthians 2:9 says:  

“However, as it is written:

‘What no eye has seen, what no ear has heard, and what no human mind has conceived’--the things God has prepared for those who love him.

Today, this verse struck a different chord with me.  (I just love how scripture does that!). All of my thoughts and plans that I try to make fall so short of the mark.  I’ve been making the plans, and then I've asked God to walk with me in them.  Yet in this verse, we are told that we can’t even conceive of the things that God has prepared for us already.  How then, can I even make plans when I haven’t seen it or heard it or can even imagine it yet?  So, today, I finally understand—God has the plans already prepared for me—plans that haven’t even occurred to me yet. I just need to ask what He has in store so that I might walk with Him in it. I’ve had it backwards all along!

A Dry Spell

A dry spell. There are days that I feel so connected and “in the Spirit,” that I can’t imagine anything getting in my way of living out my purpose. Then there are days, like today, when I keep forgetting my purpose and whose I am. As soon as my thoughts return to Papa, I am immediately convicted and connected. But then a conversation here, an email there, and once again, I am just like the natural soul—in the world and not aligned with Kingdom work.

I could berate and admonish myself, and yet, somehow I don’t see that as necessary. When I ponder how I would ever discipline myself to stay abiding in the vine, I realize that it is really okay to just be human. I truly believe that if Papa needs me to be about His business, He will stir in me longings and a desire to partner with Him that are so vibrant and real that I could not ignore it. But when things are quiet, sometimes I just forget.

I feel sort of like the Hebrews in Exodus. They watched the Red Sea part so that their entire caravan crossed on dry land and then watched the waters close in on the Egyptian army. They watched their daily bread fall from the sky for forty years, and yet they forgot. They forgot that God was there to meet their every need. They forgot their promise to worship no other gods, and instead created a golden calf. They forgot that Moses was a strong leader and longed for a return to the bondage of slavery rather than waiting patiently for him to come back from the mountaintop. I guess I am in good company in my forgetfulness, but I still wish that I didn’t.

Psalm 78: 6-8 says:

so the next generation would know them,
    even the children yet to be born,
    and they in turn would tell their children.
⁷ Then they would put their trust in God
    and would not forget his deeds
    but would keep his commands.
⁸ They would not be like their ancestors—
    a stubborn and rebellious generation,
whose hearts were not loyal to God,
    whose spirits were not faithful to him.

Thank you Lord for helping me remember who I am.

Angry Motorcycle Guy

So today as I was leaving an appointment, I made a left turn onto a rather busy street. I saw a motorcycle coming from my right, but he was far enough away that I could easily make my turn in front of him. That is if he had been going only slightly above the speed limit rather than over 20mph faster. When I completed my turn, he purposely sped up to make a point. I was saying out loud, “You are going too fast!”  This guy decided to make it an issue, so he pulled in the lane beside me and was yelling at me. I said again, “You are going too fast,” but he continued to yell.  I started praying for him and quit making eye contact.  He then pulled behind me.  I decided to turn left to go through a drive-thru at a smoothie place, and he again pulled up beside me, all the while screaming, “Why did you try to run me off the road?” He kept yelling this, so I called into the order speaker that a guy was out here yelling at me, and I guess we need a police officer. When he heard that, he sped off, still yelling. 

The adrenalin was certainly flowing freely, but I was caught wondering two things. First, why was this guy so angry? I really did have assured clear distance until he sped up, and even then, it wasn’t even close until he made it that way.  But then he changed the truth into a lie, claiming I actually wanted to hurt him by “running him off the road.” I know this guy is going to go to his grave believing I tried to run him off the road (hopefully he doesn’t go too soon, but with this kind of driving behavior, it would not be surprising).

I am sad for this young man. So much emotion. So much self-induced drama. And for what purpose? Surely there have to be bigger eggs to fry than trying to create a scene with an ole’ retired lady.  I will continue to pray for him, and all of the other drivers that happen to get in his way.

Synchronicity At Its Finest

         Today as I left for my early morning walk, my husband was awake. As he is a night owl, this was quite unusual, so I asked if everything was okay. It wasn’t. He didn’t feel well.  I left anyway for my walk, and was listening to a meditation on my iTunes about being love and living as love.  Near the end of my walk, about two blocks from home, my meditation was interrupted by his ringtone. He had gotten sick.  Jon is blind and he also has a bad hip, so it is hard for him to get down to floor level. He was calling to let me know he had made a bit of a mess.  Trying to remember all that I had just heard on my meditation mp3, I took a few deep breaths, but I wasn’t really prepared for the actual “bit of a mess.”  One entire hour later after much labor-intensive vomit chunk removal, I was amazed at the different thoughts that flew through my head.  What I wanted to do was cry, but there wasn’t anyone else that could do this nasty job. I was thinking that they say “for better or worse” but did they really mean this? Then it dawned on me. It is easy to talk about love. It is easy to throw the word around in some gushy, touchy-feely, good vibe kind of way, but real love?  Real, honest-to-goodness love is cleaning up a grown man’s puke all over the walls and sides of the toilet. Real love means down on your knees pulling up air vents to spray the disinfectant into every nook and cranny. Real love means getting the big chunks off of his clothes before doing the load of rugs and other assorted items that got in the way.

            Now that he is resting with his glass of 7-up beside him and bucket nearby, I am musing at the irony of my iTunes shuffle to choose the very items on my playlist that I needed to hear today more than any other day. I’m guessing it wasn’t a coincidence, but rather an episode of synchronicity that only God can so impeccably orchestrate.