Family Reunions

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My cousin posted a picture on Instagram that got me thinking. It was a picture taken of the extended family gathered together, all smiles and laughter.

It made me think back to all those family reunions we used to have back in the day. I so enjoyed seeing those people, many of whom I only saw that one day a year.

Looking back, I have one regret. Why didn’t I get to know these people better when I had the chance? Why did I wait until it was too late?

I think everyone who has ever lost a close loved one will feel like they took their loved one for granted to some degree, that they left words unspoken or good deeds undone.

I look at this picture and I see a lot of people who aren’t around anymore. So many that I miss. If I only had some kind of time machine to go back, even if It were only like watching an old home movie. That would be enough.

You think you will have enough time with those you love. You won’t. You think that if they live a good long life, their passing won’t hurt as much. It will.

All you have is the time you’re given. All you have is today, as the old Robert Earl Keen song goes. Every moment you spend with a loved one now is one less regret you’ll have tomorrow.

Don’t think that I have only sad memories. The majority of the feelings that come from this picture are happy ones. Good ones. I feel like I grew up in a family with a long legacy of love, laughter, honor, and faith. I was (and still am) very blessed.

Life Lessons from a Chick Flick

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I should probably go ahead and hand in my man card. Or just burn it. I saw a movie that would definitely rate as a chick flick. And I sorta liked it.

Ok, it was formulaic and a lot of the conflict felt forced and unnatural, but I still couldn’t help liking it in all its glorious corniness.

The two main characters got so caught up in the wedding hype that they almost lost a friendship over it. Oops. Spoiler alert there.

In my opinion, a lot of girls and guys get so caught up in the perfect proposal and the perfect wedding that they forget to plan for a great marriage.

Don’t get me wrong. Weddings can be a true testimonial to the power and beauty of Christ’s love for Hie church. But I also think a more powerful testimony is the witness of a good marriage where the husband loves his wife the way Christ loves His own bride, the Church.

In all honesty, the wedding day is not about the bride. Not ultimately. It’s not about the mother of the bride. It’s about Jesus.

Also, you know you’re finally growing up when you can see your friends finding their own happiness in relationships and instead of envy and bitterness and cynicism, you find joy are able to wish them the best with the utmost sincerity in your heart.

What I’m learning is that if you’re not complete and whole in who you are as a single individual, marriage won’t fix that. If you’re not comfortable in your own skin and if you don’t know who you are in Christ, a marriage partner won’t fix that. You have to love you. You have to truly accept the love God has for you before you can give it to someone else.

By the way, the movie in question was Bride Wars. Not Oscar material by any means, but a pleasant enough diversion for an evening.

4 Years Later

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5 days ago, I received a notification from the PTB at Facebook (PTB= Powers That Be) of my 4th anniversary of blogging through this very lovely and wonderful blogsite (shameless plug).

It’s been four years. And I still don’t like the term “blog.” It sounds too much like “blah.” But as there’s not a better word for what I and millions of others write every day, it’ll have to do.

I’ve written 1,466 of these blogs since that fateful day in July 2010. Actually, counting this one, it’s 1,467. For some reason that I still have yet to determine, the good people at WordPress felt led to notify me when I reached that all-important plateau of 1,337 blogs. That felt extremely weird and random.

I feel like this is a way for me to share me to the world– my story, my passions, my likes, my history, and my day-to-day. I hope that someone out there reads what I write and says, “You know what I’m feeling and what I’m going through. Because of you, I’m not giving up.”

As an interesting addendum, I figure that if I average 300 words per blog, then I’ve written approximately 440,100 words. My goal is 1 million words. And maybe to make $1 per word. That’d be nice.

Right now, I’m reminded of an episode of Friends where Phoebe says something like, “If you want to be on my email list, you’re gonna have to donate money so I can buy a computer.” I don’t know what made me think of that or what it has to do with anything. It just came to mind.

So here’s to another 4 years. At least. Here’s to the discoveries and experiences and dreams that are yet to come. Here’s to finding joy and hope and love and light in the unlikeliest and most unexpected of places. I hope you stick with me, because it’s been a fun ride so far and I am still so very grateful to all those who take the time to read these things. Even you, Mom.

Something Worthwhile I Found on Pinterest

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As you may have heard, I am an avid fan of Pinterest. For the most part, I pin random, weird, and funny stuff. Rarely do I pin anything useful or DIY. Mostly, I pin small furry animals doing or saying humorous things.

But today I found this.  It was too good not to share.

I only need to add one thing: remember that God thinks you’re extraordinary. Jesus thinks you’re to die for..

Autumn in July? Yes, Please

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I forgot my lunch today. I walked right out the front door and the word “lunch” never even crossed my mind. That happens when you’re in full-on Walking Dead mode, pre-coffee.

I ended up walking across the street to the hospital cafeteria. Don’t worry. They have a grill which actually has decent food. I myself had a turkey burger, being ever the culinarily adventurous type. And yes, it was slap yo momma good.

I love fall. I especially love these sneak previews in the month that’s notorious for making me sweat like a pig that’s about to become bacon. July and I normally don’t get along very well. The same goes for August.

But today was a pleasant surprise. I like to think of it as a bit of weather serendipity. When you’re eyes are opened by grace, you’re able to see these things as small blessings, gifts from God.

Kairos was spectacular as always. The question of the night was this: why do you believe in Jesus? Is it for a comfy life? Or for good luck a la Genie in a bottle? Is it for a free ticket to heaven and a get out of hell card?

While each of these have varying degrees of merit, none of them alone are enough to compel anyone to want to follow this Jesus for a lifetime. Or for them to follow after your lead.

The best reason to follow Jesus? Because He’s worth it. Because He’s more than just a good man or a good teacher or a good example. He’s God in human skin, or as tonight’s speaker put it, God in a bod.

I ended up at Chick-fil-A, enjoying the night air and my own thoughts. And a grilled chicken sandwich, too. It was as close to perfection as this side of heaven allows.

Waiting

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I learned another valuable lesson about waiting and patience. I was supposed to meet a friend at the Radnor Lake State Park parking lot. The only thing was that the lot was full and there was quite a line of cars waiting to get in.

I was very tempted to turn around and head home. Surely, I’d be sitting in my car in that line for a long, long, long, long, long . . . well, you get the idea . . . a long time. It didn’t seem worth it to me.

Some did turn around and leave. But something in me told me to wait and to have patience. Surely enough, I saw people walking towards their cars and leaving and slowly but surely, that line of cars got smaller and smaller. Finally, I was able to find a spot.

I wonder how many people give up on their goals and dreams when they are on the cusp of seeing them realized. We are such an impatient society. We’ve forgotten that just about anything worthwhile takes time and effort, trial and error, and patience.

I’m so glad that God’s patience with me isn’t like me patience with Him or with myself. His patience toward me is infinite. He sees a future for me that I can’t see, a glorious end just on the other side of those seemingly insurmountable obstacles.

Mr. Churchill was right. Don’t give up. Don’t evah, evah give up (I even typed it with a British accent). It will be way more than worth it.

PS It was worth it. Under the trees with a cool breeze blowing, it almost felt like fall. My friend and I saw two deer, some sort of exotic bird (I think it was a heron), a squirrel, and a very sleepy raccoon taking a nap up in a tree. I have evidence.

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More Good News

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“Here is the message we heard from him and pass on to you: that God is light, and in him there is no darkness at all. If we claim to be sharing in his life while we walk in the dark, our words and our lives are a lie; but if we walk in the light as he himself is in the light, then we share a common life, and we are being cleansed from every sin by the blood of Jesus his son.

If we claim to be sinless, we are self-deceived and strangers to the truth. If we confess our sins, he is just, and may be trusted to forgive our sins and cleanse us from every kind of wrong; but if we say we have committed no sin, we make him out to be a liar, and then his word has no place in us” (1 John 1:5-10).

That was the text of the sermon from The Church at Avenue South.

The good news I’m referring to is this: it’s not about what I’ve done or said that will get me forgiven. It is all about what Jesus has already done. It’s about me clinging to that finished work and trusting in Jesus.

Sure, I have good days where I feel like I have my stuff together. Then there are days when I can barely tie my shoelaces successfully. There are moments when I wonder if the pills are really working because I feel so far from normal. Like all of us do from time to time.

On the good days and on the bad days, my forgiveness and my hope come from Jesus. Never from me or my talents or my mad skills or my ingenuity.

The old hymn says it best. My hope IS built on nothing less than Jesus’ blood and righteousness. Not on any self-made systems of support, which always come crashing down sooner or later.

Only in Jesus. To me, that is news that never gets old and never stops being good news.

Notes on a Muggy Night

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I made my weekly pilgrimage to Franklin. It just so happened that this weekend is a bluegrass festival, Bluegrass Along the Harpeth. They had a section of Main Street blocked off and there were LOTS of people milling about. And it was hot.

Well, no. It wasn’t so much hot as it was muggy. Which is worse. I confess that I sweat. A lot. And I was positively dripping after two hours of being outside.

I personally would much rather be too cold than too hot. For one, you can always add clothes or go inside to warm up. You can’t really do too much of you’re too hot except go inside. Or go naked. And generally that’s frowned upon.

I had a thought. Sometimes, you have to let the past go and not worry about the future. Sometimes, you just have to be in the moment. You have to enjoy where you are and not miss the moment worrying about tomorrow or the next day.

Jim Elliott once said, Wherever you are, be all there. Live to the hilt every moment you believe to be in the will of God. Or something like that.

That’s what I tried to do tonight. I think I succeeded. Even if I did sweat quite a bit.

Films About Ghosts

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“If dreams are like movies then memories are films about ghosts” (Counting Crows)

My dad went to Memphis to finalize the contract on my grandmother’s old  house. She’s been gone for 8 years and hadn’t lived in that house for a very long while, but still it made me a little sad.

I have so many happy memories wrapped up in that place. Just going up that steep driveway can make me feel like I’m 10 years old again going to eat Sunday dinner.  I can picture uncles and cousins who have since passed. I can smell the rolls fresh out of the oven and the roast beef that was always my favorite part of the meal.

I remember walking through all those room once and thinking how small they seemed without the furniture. Or maybe it was the voices of the people that once filled these rooms, their laughter and tears, that made the rooms bigger. Then again, I was smaller, so everything seemed bigger than it really was.

In my opinion. If any place should be haunted, it’s this house. Not with malevolent spirits but with kind souls. My memories of this place are tied up with so many who are now departed that when I walk in these rooms, I almost feel their essence still lingering.

Maybe the people who are buying the house can start their own new memories. Maybe they too can one day look back on this old house with fond remembrances over family get-togethers and meals shared.

I’m thankful for my memories. I’m thankful for family who, while not perfect, loved each other. And me. I’m even thankful for those little gumball things that fell out of that tree in the front yard. I’ve gone blank on what they’re called, but I spent hours kicking those things like footballs over the fence.

I remember we used to all get in the station wagon and drive over there Christmas mornings after I opened all my presents from Santa. I also remember that was where I got my less than thrilling gifts like socks and underwear.

There are still pictures, old and faded, to remind me of these good times. Not all the memories are happy. Some are sad. But each one led me to where I am now and I see how God was working in each one, so I can give thanks, if not FOR all of them, most definitely IN all of them.

 

 

 

 

Still Yet Another Good Reminder

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“Sorrow cannot steal our faith or even cause it to be lost; betrayal and loss steal our faith only when we refuse to remember, tell our stories, listen even as we tell them, and explore the meaning that God has woven into every one. If we want to grow in faith we must be open to listening to our own stories, perhaps familiar or forgotten, where we have not mined the rich deposit of God’s presence. With better eyes and ears we will sense how God has worked to redeem even our most tragic experiences” (Dan Allender, The Healing Path).

I don’t know why I gravitated to this quote. I’m not dealing with any kind of loss or grief or even sadness, yet these words spoke deeply to me.

Maybe because I realize lately how fragile life is and how easily those we love can slip away from us, how quickly those little babies grow up and leave home, how fleeting are the days.

The most tragic remembrance in the end will be how we took so many people for granted and left words of love and gratitude unspoken. In the end we will not treasure our trophies or promotions or rewards, but the relationships that made us come alive and be better people.

So all that from a quote I stole from someone on Facebook.