Birds and life

I am here, at the beach. At my favorite beach, Vero Beach in Florida. It is unbelievable the changes that have been wrought here by the tropical storm that hit here over the summer. At first I was not happy, but then I had to step back and look at the power and magnificence that caused such change and I could not stay unhappy. I was too busy being impressed and awestruck.

This morning I went walking on the beach. It is a stormy day so I was getting soaked, but I could not stop. I just love it so much. I do not even know how to begin to describe the emotions that the pounding waves evoke in me. As I was walking, I came upon a flock of snipes, doing their silly little dance in the waves as they search for food. I love watching them. So I paused in my walk just to observe for a time. I noticed that there was one bird that was not quite in sync with the others in the flock. He was not moving as quickly and was therefore hitting the wave wake much earlier than the others and not moving as far down that wake. Then I noticed that he was missing a foot on one of his legs. He had only a stump. But he was finding a way and looked as healthy as the others, with that one exception. I was fascinated and so I sat down in the sand and watched more intensely. I was struck by the focus of my little friend. The other birds were goofing around and playing and occasionally eating in the midst of their play, but not Sir Stumpy. He was totally zoned in on finding his food and watching and gauging the waves. I sat there thinking that I need to be a great deal more like Sir Stumpy. I have a number of handicaps. I need to see past them and stay focussed and do what needs to be done. I need to make my focus NOT be the handicaps, but all the ways I can overcome and work around the handicaps.

As I was pondering all of this, the most beautiful thing happened. Something spooked the flock and they took off. And...lo and behold...Sir Stumpy could FLY! Oh baby, could he fly!! He was, by far the strongest flyer of the flock. And I watched as they flew and landed a couple of times and it was obvious that Sir Stumpy was the leader of this flock. He was calling the shots and making the decisions for this group. Whoa. Not only can I do better at not focusing on my handicaps, I can even lead. I can lead, perhaps not in spite of my handicaps, but because of them. And furthermore, there are balances for my flaws. Just as Sir Stumpy can FLY even though walking is an issue for him, there are talents that God has given me that allow me to FLY, that offset the handicaps and allow me to soar, every so often so that I am better able to handle the flaws that sometimes seem so glaring.

As the flock wheeled off, out of my vision, I found myself tearing up and waving a thank you farewell to Sir Stumpy and his family. I am very grateful for a rainy walk on the beach and a small bird who was open to teaching me a lesson.

Now...enough words...I am headed back out into the waves!

Sports

So...any of you who know me, know that I am a sports nut. Truly, a fanatic. So, when Karl got the anniversary issue of the Sporting News recently with all of its fun facts and figures and list after list of superlatives, we had a blast at our house with Karl quizzing me and the kids watching and contributing where they could on all that trivia. I held my own! My brain is chock full of useless stuff.

But one of my kids asked me a question. He asked what was the greatest sports moment that I had ever witnessed. WHOA! That is a tough question. I told him that I would have to get back to him on that. I have been pondering it ever since. Earlier this week, at one of Kodren's basketball games, I realized the answer to that question. I had to leave the gym, it hit me hard, but I now know the greatest moment in sports that I have ever witnessed.

It did not happen in Coors Field or in an Olympic hockey rink or even on the Cleveland Browns football field (yes, I am speaking of The Drive). This moment occured at a church, half court gym, pick up basketball game after Boy Scouts one night. I was watching the older boys, who were done with their activity, play ball. There was one young man there that I really enjoyed watching (think a young Steve Nash). And he was really in rare form that night. However...he was about the teach me what it is really all about. After a time, the younger scouts began to trickle in and asked to join the game. One of these younger scouts was a brother to this kid that I loved to watch. That is when I saw the greatest moment in sports that I will ever experience. I watched this very talented young man totally step back and work that game to make his younger brother shine. It was stunning. The younger brother was good in his own right, by his big brother's own admission, the younger brother had better pure basketball instincts than his older sibling. But that big brother WORKED that game to make his little brother look like the star player on that court. I cannot even begin to describe the magic it held for me. It changed my life and the ensuing conversation that I had with the mother of those two young men changed the way I parent my own two boys.

Both of these boys and their mother are gone now. It has been nearly six years now and yet I ache for them every day. And every day, they affect decisions that I make, all because of a pick up basketball game...well...not just because of that...they were a large part of my life than that moment. But that moment truly did shift my paradigm and make me a better person and isn't that what sports should do, in their purest form.

Thanks for listening!

Trials

I have been thinking long and hard about trials and God's hand in them, of late. I have mentioned the fright that my friend, Andy, gave us all recently. But this illness has awakened an Andy that I have been praying to see. And he readily admits that the changes that he has been forced to face have been a blessing in his life. Now, I am not saying, IN ANY WAY, that I would have wished what happened to Andy to have happened. Quite the opposite is true. But the fruits that this trial is bringing to life are truly a blessing. In fact, I find myself tearing up as I write this, because I am so grateful. First, for his health and second for his more tender heart.

Now, another family that I love is facing a similar challenge. Some poor choices led a young man into a terrible car accident. I believe that, in the end, he will be healed. But I wonder if this consequence of his choices will lead this precious man to step back and realize that his choices led to this and that he needs to re-evaluate and make new choices from this day forward. This realization, along with many fervent pleas for his recovery, are now a large part of my prayers.

Some of you know that I am not a stranger to tragedy. I have lost some people that I love to some ridiculous situations. Some through their choices, or the poor choices of others, some through just the consequences of human existence. But each time these kind of things occur, I hear so many people say so many different things. I hear, "God sent a wake up call" or "God loves this person so much that He will do whatever it takes to save him" or "I am glad that God is in control of all of this". And I get confused. How much is God's hand in these things? I would seriously love to hear people's thoughts on this. I have mentioned this kind of thing before, but I am still seeking answers. And you all know how I feel about free will and how free will is God's greatest gift to us. So...where does free will end and God's control begin? I am very aware that God is there and that He is aware of me, but I think He is often very hands off, at least from my perspective.

Your thoughts...

It is in my genes...

Yesterday I did get my Christmas early. It is a new weapon. We went into the new Big R store in Conifer for the grand opening and I finally found the handgun that I really can get excited about, after years of pondering and looking. And I did punish the boys with it in our target practice. But that is not what this blog post is about, not really.

I mentioned the background check on my FB wall and got an interesting thread that included me and my cousin, Jennie, discussing our handgun choices and her husband's recommendations (he is in law enforcement). This led to the following post, from another cousin, David Price..."The conversation between Jennie and Cynthia reminds me of the advice given by Great Grandma Estella Harmon to her oldest son Jack when he left home to work on a ranch in Cokeville. "Watch out for those wild Cokeville girls". That blood runs true..."

David said the very thing that would mean most to me in the world. Nothing could be more wonderful to me than to be one of "those wild Cokeville girls". I would love to think that I could emulate my grandma, Lydia, who saved all of the other women at the hunting camp one year by disposing of a pesky porcupine! These are the stories I grew up with. These are the great women who raised me. A bunch of wild Cokeville girls. (And of course, the refined Afton gentlewoman who offered that warning, my Great Grandma Mary Estella Brown Harmon, my hero.) I want to be like these women, the women who carved out a life in what was essentially wilderness. I want to be able to take care of those around me with such fortitude and reflex as the women from whom I am descended. They seldom had the luxury of pondering and weighing and journaling a decision, they just had to act and they very rarely gave their choices a second thought. I need better reflexes.

However, I have pondered and studied this for many years. I have come to believe that these "reflexes" are in me. They are somewhat atrophied and rusty from lack of use. But I truly do think that we carry some or even much inherited memory that allows us to build and grow on previous generations. Yes, as my friend Helen and I frequently discuss, along with those positives, come the carried forward negatives as well and it is up to us to be a cleansing generation, as much as we are able, for the negatives. But we, or at least I, need to really consider the inherited memories or reflexes that are mine and utilize them more fully. In fact, I have even come to believe that as we work to eliminate the negatives from the past generations and utilize the positives that carry forth in each of us, that those who have passed on are engaged in the fight with us and will be there to carry us and help us along.

May we all strive to utilize fully all that we have been offered from those who went before is my prayer right now. Thanks for listening!

Signed, A Wild Cokeville Gal.

Fear

I cannot seem to get away from fear right now. All that I am doing seems to be fear motivated. And fear is not a motivator for long term change. But the world is such a scary place. My friend, Andy's far too close a brush with death, the revelations that continue to pour out from Penn State, the concern I have had about taking my kids downtown, something we used to like to do before Civic Center Park was "occupied", the aging I feel in my body, the many people around me who need me and who I cannot be there for, not as well as I should, the fact that there is NOBODY running for president that I care to vote for, in any party, the constant reality hanging over me that I am not all that I profess or hope to be. So many things in all of our lives that just seem so overwhelming. Now...the real problem...I know exactly what I would say to someone else who said the things that I just said and I do NOT want to hear them. I do NOT believe them right now. God is just a concept and the Word is just that, words on a page. This, of course, adds to the fear. I realize that I will cycle out of this and will soon be working from anger and then from other emotions and then from testimony and I will be okay again, but for now fear is ruling my life.

In an effort to move past the fear, I have joined that program that Reesha has been touting for some time now, myfitnesspal.com. (Such a gift that something this great is free.) It is offering me some control in some part of my life and that is helping. It is true that there is less fear when one has knowledge and is making choices based on real knowledge. One step at a time. Hopefully, taking this step will bring me out of fear in other areas as well...

Wounds and scars

"Never be ashamed of the scars that life has left you with. A scar means the hurt is over, the wound is closed, you endured the pain and God has healed you." (I cannot find an author for this quote.) A friend and I have been in a dialogue about this quote. At first, we both appreciated the quote and then we both began to doubt whether there are truly scars left behind if God is the healer. Now, however, I am back to believing that scars are necessary. I am all about mentoring and mentoring is all about receiving guidance from one who has already walked the path that you are walking. So...perhaps those scars that we carry are a way for others to recognize that we have walked a certain path or have defeated a certain foe or battled a certain battle. Then they can be drawn to us or vice versa when we need to be a mentor or to find a mentor. Perhaps our scars are necessary to make us better instruments in God's hands.

I am seeing a couple of people I love very much dealing with old wounds right now. And I am being reminded that so often, we can do all the right things, but the choices of others or physical/chemical issues or the simple workings of life mean that we cannot totally close some wounds. We cannot control others or vicissitudes of life or sometimes even the physical/chemical imbalances. So, if we cannot control these things, what do we do to heal? How do we repent if another's bitterness means that we are not allowed to be free of past mistakes? Many who may read this would answer with the word "God" and I cannot argue with that, but I want more than just that one word. I realize that I am tired and I am stubborn and ornery and I am near to allowing my own bitterness at the pain I see in those I love overwhelm me. But I am still open to answers and to dialogue and to trying to find some peace. Any thoughts out there...

Again...the power of words.

What do we do when those people, whose opinion means so much to us, use the things that we share with them or the things that are most dear to our hearts against us? And why do those who should most look out for our interests and cherish our hearts often choose to see only our weaknesses and never our strengths? AND WHY DO I SO OFTEN DO THESE EXACT SAME THINGS TO THOSE THAT I SHOULD BE CHERISHING? Okay, I do not use others words against them very often. Words are too precious to me. But I do, too often, choose to see the weaknesses of others instead of focusing on their strengths. I believe that this is a huge part of charity. And I want to not only be a loving person but I want to move that love to the point of charity. Karl and I have a theory on the "charity reflex" that we would like to develop. This is the ability to be in tune enough to know when we need to help others, especially to be aware enough to know when we are in a time and place to use our talents and abilities to do work that is our particular mission here on earth. Some of the best moments of my life are when I have made a connection with a friend, old or new, and learned that I was an instrument of the higher powers and I really and truly brought them just what they needed at that time in their life. Wouldn't it be grand if we could feel that, even a little bit, every day of our lives? I have done so many things to hurt the ones I love the most and I cannot change this but I can work to have fervent charity. After all, Peter promises us in 1 Peter 4:8 "And above all else have fervent charity among yourselves: for charity shall cover the multitude of sins." Heaven knows that I have a multitude of sins to cover, so I had better get off of here and get to work.

My Identity

I cannot sleep. Yeah, I know, big surprise. But as I lay here, reviewing the day, and pondering all of the hats that I wear, I am trying to decide just what I am. I was up at 4:45 getting things and kids ready for the day and preparing to drive Malachi to seminary, I am an alarm clock and a taxi service. I spent the day pondering on the life and loss of dear friends. I am one who grieves. I prepared paperwork at the warehouse and met with the accountant. I am a business owner and bookkeeper. I taught/mentored young people today. I am a teacher and a mentor. I met an intriguing young man today at lunch and had a tremendous discussion on literature, music, and world views. I am a scholar. I received a fabulous, first of its kind piece of jewelry and got even more excited about upcoming events and opportunities for my friend Andy. I like to think I am a friend and, hopefully, a promoter. I had a number of Facebook, text, phone, and email exchanges, some serious, some silly, with people I love, even people who are as dear to me as family, who understand what I grieve and struggle with and vice versa. I am a confidante, no I am a giver and a taker, that is a better phrase. I received a request from another speech coach for a drama interp piece. I am a coach. (And, by the way, if any of you from Strasburg are reading this, I do have the piece and will get it to Ginia.) I returned to the warehouse, where I helped with computer stuff and aided Karl with some customer inquiries and phone calls. I am a wife. I am an IT guy. I checked out for a half hour on the couch in the back room to get ahead of a whopper of a headache. I am, occasionally, a migraine sufferer. I grumped about all that I had to do with anyone who would listen. I am a whiner. I can count, without much effort, 8 times today that I was asked about books or a piece of literature. I am a reader, nay, a book addict. I gave a lot of great advice and used a lot of good words today that I do not live by myself. I am a liar, a cheat, and a fraud. I made the decision to stay down at the warehouse with Malachi and Seviah tonight and so we giggled over food at Noodles and Company and then Red Boxed "Thor" (which I loved, even if I struggled to stay awake and alert). I am a mom. I am a movie freak. And now, I sit at the computer, desperate for the sleep that is eluding me. I am an insomniac. I have no good remedy for the insomnia, so I am going to wrap this up and try prayer. I am a daughter of God.

So...this is not all...but it is a good sampling. And how do I feel about all of these labels? Which one(s)come nearest to being my true identifier(s). If I had to prioritize these labels, how would that look? Which labels do I need to tweak? Which ones do I need to adjust? Which ones do I need to lose? This I do not know for sure but I needed to get this down on paper in order to clarify my mind enough to face these questions.

Now I gotta fix it...

So, I have been doing a lot of thinking lately. And I am beginning to realize some things. I hate realizing things, this always leads to responsibility. Death, the character in so many of the DiscWorld books by Terry Pratchett has a lot of great quotes in those books. But one that has struck me of late goes as follows, "Humans need fantasy to be human, to be the place where the falling angel meets the rising ape." This is struck me so deeply because I am beginning to see that I have been a fraud, living a fantasy, in many ways. And I need to move away from this and be totally real. But in stripping down from the fantasy, I am coming to see that I must make huge amends to so many people for not being all that I wanted or claimed to be. I have defrauded so many, where do I start? In Corinthians, Paul said, "But I keep under my body and bring it into subjection: lest that by any means, when I have preached to others, I myself should be a castaway." I have preached to others, but I have not lived what I have preached. So I am now needing to be, at least for a time, a castaway. I need to pull back and inward, I need to be real and I need to be what I really am, but I am afraid, for what I really am is deeply lacking. So...I would love some thoughts from others. What comes first, the apologies for not being what one claimed to be or the attempt to try and step back to the real self and start over and be real? I find myself in a conundrum...

Rambling observations from my weekend.

This past Saturday, two young couples that I adore were sealed in marriage. I dearly wished that I could have been in two places at once so that I could have been witness to both of these ceremonies, but that was not possible. But as I sat in the sealing room, sending my love to Daniel and Samantha as I observed the sealing of Loni and Malcolm, I was filled with gratitude for the privilege if having people like Loni and Daniel and now Malcolm and Samantha in my life. And their families, how I love their families. Both of these young people went through struggles to get to that altar on Saturday. Some of these struggles were theirs alone and some of these struggles involved other members of their family. But not once in ANY of those struggles was there a moment when someone wasn't praying for those individuals and those families. A lot of somebodies, as a matter of fact. As I considered this, I was, not so gently, reminded that this is the case for me as well. I am in the midst of some struggles. But I truly do get stronger every day and I still find that I learn something new every day. As this reminder was handed to me a previous temple experience washed over me and I knew, I just knew, as I have known before, but seem to need constant reminding, that I am not alone. In that moment a haiku popped into my head (yes, the one I posted last night) and I was also reminded that I have talents and abilities that also ensure that I am not alone, that none of us are alone if we use those talents to benefit others and remind them that they are not alone and that they are loved. If we do this, we will be guaranteed to feel less alone. And I can even use my talents for myself to help me remember what is real.

I saw examples of this in abundance this past weekend. A whole lotta people sharing talents to make others feel important and cherished. When the three Boyd boys (shut up, they will always be boys) sang together the perfect lyrics that Brian wrote for Loni, there was a true sense of love and comradery that just flooded the room. I think that what I felt in that room at that moment is what the eternity that we all want will feel like. Rooms filled with people who are loving and laughing and joined through common bonds of experience and struggle and prayer and weeping and sacrifice and pain even anguish, but in the end, having pushed through, then there will be just peace and joy. Perhaps that is what someone who has been sent to help me at this time in my life meant when he told me to just be Cynthia and just be out there and be honest and real and allow others to share both my laughter and my pain. Perhaps this was due to the need for common bonds that will join me to others who will pray for me and mine and who do indeed understand and who will one day share laughter and joy with me in peace. I hope so because I am taking his advice.

I think that this will be random....

First of all, I am thinking about the power of words. Recently I sent a message to a very small and select group of people on Facebook. I got a reply from one of these folks. The answer was this "thank you!" No need to explain why, but this response brought on tears, the good kind. It struck me as I pondered on this, just how many time just two or three words have changed my life. "I love you", "I do", "They are gone", "It was Emily", "I'm back", "I'm leaving"...I could go on all day, we all have these moments in our lives when we will never be the same, all because of a small utterance. I love words and I love the power that they have in my life. I love being transformed by them. I love language and I am grateful that I have been allowed to make words and language so much of my life's work. It will now be my continued prayer that I will be able to use words to bring on feelings of empowerment and joy to others.

Speaking of words, Pastor Mona's prayer that was posted on Facebook this morning had a line in it that brought me to my knees, literally. "I don't need to try and control what You can perfect." WHOA!! That is all that I have been trying to do of late, it seems. Trying to control things, especially people, that only God can change or perfect. This was a beautiful reminder that I need to step back and see everything and everyone the way that God sees them. And I need to remember who I want to ask to be in control. For I know that He will only control what I ask of him...but I must ask. Think I better go and have a discussion about that with Him right now before my day goes much further. Thanks Mona for giving me perspective with wonderful words to start my day.

Now...let's all go forward and use our words carefully and wisely today and thus empower ourselves and others!

It is that time of year again

From August 25th through the month of September, is time of reflection and real struggle for me. I have talked here before about dates and anniversaries of events and remembering birthdays of those who have died. I know that many of you feel strongly that this is not healthy, but I need to remember these dates. And I get up in the wee hours of the morning to learn that I have been invited to have the items I want from my friend Anna's sewing room as her family prepares to tackle that project, one that I know is daunting for them. So, I sit here in the wee hours reflecting and weeping, just a wee bit. But I do need this. I NEED to remember. I need to remember both the lives of these people I no longer get to have in my life and I need to remember the things I learned, and continue to learn, through their deaths. I am grateful for the continued opportunity to heal and hopefully grow. So...those of you who must deal with me in person, I am sorry. It is that time of year again and I need it.

Covenants and Evil

Betcha do not expect to see those two words together, but those are the words that just keep cropping up in my life and so I decided to sit down today and study these words together. Weird, I know...but I am not feeling well and I have never been exactly normal. And it turned out to be pretty interesting.

I am having to acknowledge, in a very real way, that there is evil in the world. And I am furthermore having to acknowledge that this evil can lurk in absolutely anyplace and I need to protect those I love at all times. This is an overwhelming feeling. As I am all about mentoring and I look to God as the perfect parent mentor, I thought about how He must feel as he tries to love and care for all of His children, even the ones who inflict pain and evil on others of His children. That is an overwhelming thought as well. But He does it, and He does it perfectly. And He so often makes me feel protected, despite the evil around me...

Then it struck me, COVENANTS. I feel most safe when I am living up to the covenants that I have made with my Father. Most of you know that I am all about free will and so I have not entered into the covenants with my God lightly. But when I chose to live up to the covenants that I have made, there is a larger sense of safety than when I am "kicking against the pricks". Just as when my own children are more safe when they are willing to bend their will to what I ask of them, when I am humble and choose to open my heart to what He would have me do, there is a corresponding safety that is mine. And as you study the covenant peoples in scripture, that is very evident. In fact, most of you who may read this probably already know this, but I tend to come to a lot of things the long way around.

Because of the fact that this is a mortal existence and the fact that there is free will available to all of God's children, I cannot demand the safety that I would love to have for me and my family and my other loved ones. But I can go a long way to affording all of those I love some protection if I just humble myself enough to ask and to live up to the gifts and promises that have been offered to me. I am so far from doing this well, but I should not allow this to overwhelm me, I do need to figure out what small step I can take first to bring myself more in line with His will and vision.

I finally found it!!

Most of this post is going to be somebody else's words. An ongoing exchange on one of my previous blog posts put my brain onto a poem that I read and loved a few years back. So...I have spent most of the night going through my books, trying to find the dumb thing. (That is okay Tony, Melinda and Andy, I was up anyway and this gave me something to do!) I finally located it (and purged some books, which should make Karl a bit pleased). So...here is a poem on friendship that says so very well exactly how I feel, at this point in my life...

Will you be my friend?

Who am I? I am not sure.
Once I was a rabbit's grave and a basketball hoop on
the garage, a cucumber patch, lilac trees and peonies crawling
with ants. I was stepping stones and a mysterious cistern,
grass fires, water fights and a ping pong in the basement.
I was a picket fence, a bed and a maple chest of drawers
I shared with brothers, a dog named Sandy who danced.
Friends were easy to find. We climbed trees, built grass huts,
chased snakes - and we dreamed a lot.
WILL YOU BE MY FRIEND? Beyond childhood.

Who am I? I am not sure.
Once I was predictable. I was educated, trained, loved - not
as I was, but as I seemed to be. My role was my safe
way of hiding. There was no reason to change. Now I am less
sure, more myself. My role has almost disappeared.
My roots are not in my church, my job, my city;
even my world. They are in me. Friends are not so easy to find -
and I dream a lot.
WILL YOU BE MY FRIEND? Beyond roles.

Who am I? I am not sure.
I am more alone than before. Part animal, but not protected
by his instincts or restricted by his vision. I am
part spirit as well, yet scarcely free, limited by taste and
touch and time - yearning for all of life. There is no security.
Security is sameness and fear, the postponing of life. Security
is expectations and commitments and premature death. I live
with uncertainty. There are mountains yet to climb, clouds
to ride, stars to explore, and friends to find. I am all alone.
There is only me - and I dream a lot.
WILL YOU BE MY FRIEND? Beyond security.

Who am I? I am not sure.
I do not search in emptiness and need, but in increasing
fullness and desire. Emptiness seeks any voice to fill a void,
any face to dispel darkness. Emptiness brings crowds and shadows
easy to replace. Fullness brings a friend, unique, irreplaceable.
I am not as empty as I was. There are the wind and the
ocean, books and music, strength and joys within, and the
night. Friendship is less a request than a celebration, less
a ritual than a reality, less a need than a want.
Friendship is you and me - and I dream a lot.
WILL YOU BE MY FRIEND? Beyond need.

Who am I? I am not sure.
Who are you? I want to know.
We didn't sell Kool-aid together or hitchhike to school. We're
not from the same town, the same God, hardly the same
world. There is no role to play, no security to provide, no
commitment to make. I expect no answer save your presence,
your eyes, your self. Friendship is freedom, is flowing, is
rare. It does not need stimulation, it stimulates itself. It trusts,
understands, grows, explores, it smiles and weeps. It does not
exhaust of cling, expect or demand. It is - and that is enough -
and it dreams a lot.
WILL YOU BE MY FRIEND?

(James Kavanaugh
Leucadia, California 1971)

The prayer I will now offer...

...it has been a crazy past few days. I have found myself in literally dozens of religious discussions. Some in person, some on the Internet, some on the phone, but there have been a large number of them, and some of them have almost moved towards heated. And tonight I have seen folks I love get testy with each other. So many people just work to be right, especially in area of religion. These conversations are not a surprise, when I began a certain journey five years ago, I asked for this very thing. And it has been a blessing. Over the past five years, I have learned so much and had so many wonderful people come into my life. I have met new friends, discovered amazing works of art and reconnected with old friends that I wish I had never lost. God has been good to me. But tonight, as I was studying, something struck me. I have read so many things, studied so many books of religious dogma and doctrine, of all faiths. I have fallen in love with Sufi poets, found new heroes and begged for the Holy Spirit to guide me to the next step in my studies, and have had that begging prayer answered. I have laughed and wept and felt as though I could fly and then felt as though I was beneath the dust of the earth. And I am grateful for each and every one of these emotions.

When I began this journey, I thought I knew a lot. I saw myself as well read and educated. I thought that I could make well informed judgements and decisions, especially about things spiritual. I felt that I could debate with anyone over scripture and come out ahead. But tonight I realized that I can no longer do this and I do not want to. It suddenly me hit me. I really do love each and every person who has offered me insights and new understanding. From Brad showing me the Sufi poets to Suman teaching me about the Hindu beliefs to Ellis bringing me powerful tenets in the Four Agreements of his Toltec faith to Andy reminding me of the spiritual warfare around us...so many people have changed my life. And tonight, I realized that I no longer need to be right, I do not need to prove anything. I do not quite know how to explain this feeling, and I am doing a terrible job, but I really just need to be able to love, to really try and see others as God sees them.

As all of these feelings coursed through me tonight, I realized that I have come to a place of naivete. I no longer feel educated or well read or learned. I just feel a tremendous need to embrace so many people, people I know and some I am just meeting and some that I do not even know yet. In our family, we say, in jest, all the time "Can't we all just hug each other and have a moment" (from Surf Ninjas, one of the best grade B movies ever made). We say it in jest, but this is exactly how I feel. Goofy, huh?

So...I am doing a terrible job of trying to explain this...but back to the title of this post. I am grateful for what I am feeling tonight and so I will now offer, in my personal prayers, a thank you to my Father for this naivete and I will also beg for it not to go away, and to even increase.

And yes, to whoever happens to read this...I LOVE YOU!

A bit more on Lewis' thoughts...

For those who have not read my past two blog posts, I am taking apart some correspondence between C.S. Lewis and Sheldon Vanauken. Sheldon is exploring the idea that Christianity may be what he needs to embrace and he is asking questions of Mr. Lewis. One of the things that Sheldon expresses to Mr. Lewis is that he does not know if he wishes to learn that Christianity is his new truth or whether he hopes to find that Christianity and its ideas mean nothing. I adore Mr. Lewis' response...

"But what does the existence of the wish suggest? At one time I was much impressed by Arnold's line 'Nor does the being hungry prove that we have bread.' But surely, though it doesn't prove that one particular man will get food, it does prove that there is such a thing as food! i.e. if we were a species that didn't normally eat, weren't designed to eat, would we feel hungry? You say the materialist universe is 'ugly'. I wonder how you discovered that! If you are really a product of a materialistic universe, how is it you don't feel at home there? Do fish complain of the see for being wet? Or if they did, would that fact itself not strongly suggest that they had not always been, or would not always be, purely aquatic creatures? Notice how we are perpetually surprised at Time. ('How time flies! Fancy John being grown-up and married! I can hardly believe it!) In heaven's name, why? Unless indeed, there is something in us which is not temporal."

INDEED!! We are not wholly temporal creatures. What a beautiful thought, this idea that we have an inherent sense of the eternal and we therefore do indeed bristle against time as being a restraint that is not natural for us. I love this idea of seeing very graphically that I am made of eternal stuff.

C.S. Lewis had an unbelievable way of seeing truth and presenting it in such a way that it makes so much sense to me. I am so grateful for his bold and open choice to write his thoughts down. And he paid such a price for being bold in his views. In fact, Mr. Vanauken relates that he once found himself walking behind two Oxford dons as they discussed that day's vote to make C.S. Lewis the head of poetry. These two men were not going to miss the vote, not because they felt strongly about a man who is a great candidate, they felt strongly that the absurd Christian, Lewis, should not be given such an important post. But Mr. Lewis did not allow this to drive him from writing what he felt God wanted him to write.

Thank you Mr. Lewis. You have saved me so many times because you chose to follow the Holy Spirit. I owe you.

Lewis thoughts...part deux

I was not going to write tonight, I did so many things wrong today that I thought I should just crawl into bed and end the day. So...I tried...but to no avail. Thus I found myself back in my books and back to this goofy letter by C.S. Lewis that will not leave me alone. So...here I sit...writing the next installment.

One of the queries that Sheldon made of Mr. Lewis was in regards to life after death. In response to this Mr. Lewis wrote.

"Note that life after death, which still seems to you the essential thing, was itself a late revelation. God trained the Hebrews for centuries to believe in Him without promising them an after-life, and, blessings on Him, he trained me in the same way for about a year. It is like the disguised prince in the fairy tale who wins the heroine's love before she knows he is anything more than a woodcutter. What would be a bribe if it came first had better come last."

This really hit me, hard. As I lay on my bed for an hour or so, just chewing on this paragraph and then hit the scriptures, I was stunned. I was raised to see beyond this life. I have been living my life for what comes after this life, and I see many Christians and Muslims that I love doing exactly the same thing. I need to stop living for what comes next. I need to live for now. I think that I can be a much better Christian and a better person and a better Cynthia if I stop trying to see eternity and start living for this moment. After all, eternity does not look so hot to me right now, but perhaps I can make the next few moments of my life and the lives of those around me look brighter.

Now...understand...all of this came to me in that moment of study. But I fear that I quickly lost my grip and perspective again and I did not live today for the moment and with the idea of brightening those around me. In fact, I lived the opposite of this and I fear that I hurt a number of folks. So...can I live in the moment and try to be better for others and repent at the same time for the past? This will take some additional pondering, I think...

It is kinda like an enema....

...okay...that title has very little to do with what I am about to write, but I could not resist using it. You see, I had a day with a very dear friend this week. A friend with whom a day is a magical thing because of where we both are in our lives. At the end of the day, we clung to each other and expressed how grateful we are for these snippets of time together and how we each feel strengthened and renewed by the other one and why in the world does the universe never allow us to be together. I kissed her cheek and expressed my thanks to her for her cleansing presence. Her final thought to me, "Yep, I am kinda like an enema". And she is! Heeheehee!!

But let me get to the reason that I sat down at this computer tonight. I have spent the past couple of days stuck on a letter. This is a letter written by C.S. Lewis to an acquaintance. And I mean barely an acquaintance, at the time the letter was written. But these two men shared a number of common friends and the man had written to Mr. Lewis because he was trying to come to an understanding of Christianity and what it all meant. I think that I would have dearly loved C.S. Lewis. From his first reply to this relatively unknown soul, Mr. Lewis wrote with intimacy and love. I am wont to frighten people with my jumps to intimacy in conversation, and I could learn a great deal how to handle this better from Mr. Lewis. I am going to have to study his correspondence further.

Anyway, back to this letter. I am referring to the second letter that Mr. Lewis wrote in this exchange. In this letter he speaks in such a brilliant way about Christianity and the Savior and our relationship with the Savior and with our Father's plan for us. It is truly a marvel, each of his words. I just had to share a few of them that really struck me and perhaps changed my life.

"I do not think that there is a demonstrative proof (like Euclid) of Christianity, nor of the existence of matter, nor of the good will and honesty of my best and oldest friends. I do think that all three are (except perhaps the second) far more probable than the alternative. As to why God doesn't make it demonstratively clear: are we sure that He is even interested in the kind of Theism which could be a compelled logical assent to a conclusive argument? Are we interested in it in personal matters? I demand from my friend a trust in my good faith which is certain without demonstrative proof. It wouldn't be confidence at all if he waited for rigorous proof. Hang it all, the very fairy-tales embody the truth. Othello believed in Desdemona's innocence when it was proved: but that was too late. Lear believed in Cordelia's love when it was proved: but that was too late.

Whoa! I find myself asking for proof, all the time any more and that is not what I should be asking. I need to be giving Him the same kind of confidence that I demand from my friends and from Him towards me. God likely is not interested in giving the conclusive argument. He just wants me to stop arguing and place my confidence in Him. Not after the fact, not after proof, but He wants from me the same kind of trust in my good faith that I ask of my close friends towards myself. This hit me hard.

He goes on to say...

"The magnanimity, the generosity which will trust on a reasonable probability, is required of us. But supposing one believed and was wrong after all? Why, then you would have paid the universe a compliment it doesn't deserve. Your error would even so be more interesting and important than the reality. And yet how could that be? How could an idiotic universe have produced creatures whose mere dreams are so much stronger, better, subtler than itself?"

Indeed, I do know that I am not the stuff of an idiotic universe! And I desperately need to stop thinking that I, and my opinion, and my ideas about the course of my life, are better than that which God has planned.

You know, I have two more, even more powerful insights that I need to record and possibly get feedback. But I think that putting all three of these "ah-hahs" in a single blog post would be crippling to both myself and anyone who happens to read this blog.

So...I am going to close this post and each of the subsequent Lewis posts with the exact words that he used to close this letter that has struck me so powerfully.

"The Holy Spirit is after you. I doubt if you'll get away!"

Nicknames

I got a letter this week, from my Grandma Lloyd. It was great, even had some photos in it. My grandma is a pretty zany soul. When we were little, she had a nickname for each and every one of my cousins. But never for me and my siblings. It used to break my heart. I pretty much figured it was due to the fact that she did not care for us as much as the other grandkids. It also made me mad, because I was the oldest grandkid after all, so not only should I have a nickname, but I should have the BEST nickname. Turns out, I did! I was never comfortable asking my grandma about why my siblings and I had no nicknames. Part of being zany, meant that she could also be kinda frightening. But Karl did not understand this and right after we got married, he asked her why I had no nickname like all of my cousins. She told him that she had given me one, but my mom did not care for the whole nickname thing and asked grandma not to use them for her kids, but to please use the names we were given. Really?! My silly mother. Grandma then went on to explain that my nickname was "Gladiola" or "Glad" for short. She chose this name because Dr. Schoper, who delivered me, always won first prize at the county fair for his gladiolas. And she said that I was as pretty as a flower. Isn't that a great story!! I asked her to please start using this name for me. She then went on to give Karl a name (Spike...when he had hair...it was very problematic...) And she has used these names for Karl and I ever since and has subsequently named all of our children. I love this.

I have had a number of other nicknames throughout my life. And most of them were even positive. Interestinly enough, I have had a flower theme carry into other names. I had former boyfriends who called me "Sunflower" and "Forsythia" and even "Honeysuckle". I have also been known as Blossom and Rose by good friends. I think this is delightful.

But right now, aside from "Glad", I no longer really have any nicknames. All of the kids in my family and Karl do, in fact, they have a few, but I don't really have one. There is a reason for this, but I will not get into this here. And as my grandma is in her late 80's, I fear that "Glad" will not last long. This makes me sad. I think that nicknames are so important and are such a terrific way to make one feel loved. I love watching my kids faces when I use one of my pet names for them. Using those names just tell them that they are loved. Just like when I open up a letter from my grandma and read "Dear Glad". Nicknames are true terms of endearment. In fact, I even think that this is one of the reasons that Isaiah uses so many names for his Savior, he is trying to express his love.

So tonight, as I sit here with my letter from my Grandma, I am grateful for the nicknames that have been mine in my past and I pray that there will one day be terms of endearment ahead for me.

How about you? What names have made you feel loved, throughout your life?

Friendship Scripture Challenge

Well, I have been given a totally awesome opportunity over the course of this summer. I was asked to work as an accountability mentor to a super impressive young woman and I have enjoyed it immensely. I gave her a challenge a couple of days ago, to try and find at least ten scriptures related to God's feelings on what it means to be a good friend and/or the importance of friendships. Now, I was thinking about this yesterday as I was journaling and I realized that I really do not want to be or have friends that rely on me right now. I am really in "one of those" moods at this point in my life. So...I got a strong impression that I had better do this assignment myself. So I went on a scripture search. It was an interesting ride. I began with the greatest friendship, perhaps in history, with David and Jonathon. It was "friendship at first sight" and they truly loved each other. Their "souls were knit together" and they made a covenant of friendship between each other that is absolutely beautiful. They were completely engaged in making certain that their friend was given his heart's desire. And it was a true covenant, they invoked the name of the Lord in their promise to each other (...the Lord be between thee and me for ever. 1 Samuel 20:23.) As I was reading about this, a couple of things crossed my mind. First, I wondered if Jonathon had lived if David would have made the same mistakes that he made in his later life. I know that I am making stupid choices right now just because of the loss of close friends. I do think that losing part of his soul, as David did, was a strong enough loss that it could have led to some loss of common sense. The other question that crossed my mind was whether or not such friendships are possible today. I do not know that such a friendship is any longer a possibility. I do not know if you could find two people who would be that selfless and humble and connected with God. And a friendship such as this requires stillness and quiet, something that we have very little of in today's world.

I found a number of very beautiful scriptures relating to friends and friendship. Beginning in Job, where in the closing words of this story, we are reminded that "The Lord turned the captivity of Job, when he prayed for his friends...Job 42:10). Whoa, that gives a lot of power to friendship. And yes, there have been a number of times when I have been led out of captivity by a friend. In Proverbs we are told that a friend "loveth at all times" (17:17) and can "sticketh closer than a brother" (18:24) and that a friend "sharpeneth our countenance" (27:17). Again, I see power in friendship.

In looking at Christ's own words, I found it interesting that in Matthew 20:13 he refers to a murmurer as a friend and as the soldiers are taking Christ away, after the kiss of Judas, Jesus calls Judas, Friend. Given the power that is inherent, throughout the scriptures, in this word, that is pretty amazing. I loved reading in Luke 11, the verses that lead up to the "Ask, and it shall be given you; seek, and ye shall find; knock, and it shall be opened up to you." In the verses (5-8) that lead up to this promise, Christ refers to the relationship of a good friend. I was especially touched by this passage because in another, recent, blog post, the idea of a "2 AM friend" was introduced by a comment from Brian and I received a number of sweet messages from good people telling me that they would indeed be a 2 AM friend, should I ever need one. And in these scriptures in Luke, this is what the Savior is talking about, about the importance of having a friend who will give you bread when you beg at midnight. And then He goes on to offer to be just that kind of friend. I am grateful to have some people in my life who have offered to be that kind of friend, and I am especially grateful to have Him as a friend to me. I hope that someday I have the desire to be that kind of friend again. In John 3:29, He invites us to be His friend and to therefore know joy and rejoicing. And of course, there is that beautiful verse, John 15:13, "Greater love hath no man than this, that a man lay down his life for his friends."

Hmmmm...I would so like to be called, as Abraham was "the Friend of God" (James 2:23). But I think in order to be called that, one must be a friend to those that God puts in our path. And right now, I am not in a place to be that kind of person. I am not willing, right now, to open myself up to trusting in this kind of fashion. But I did learn how to be a friend, from this scripture journey. So, if the day comes when I find the faith and strength to lose my pride, I will have a better idea of what I need to do.

Relationships, Recess and Righting

This past week has truly been something so far beyond what I can even express. And yet, whether I can express it or not, I find the need to write. In the book that I am currently enjoying the main character says, "This is where I think the writing started. The 'righting,' if you will. The righting of circumstances, the shaping of the world the way it should have been..." What a beautiful description of why I write and journal and why I push journaling so hard with those I teach and those I love. When I "write," I can so often finally see what is "right".

In a training that I attended over the past three days, I presented a mini lecture on Community Stewardship. Because of circumstances, I had very little prep time so I turned to my old familiar standbys, the scriptures, life and a few tried and true philosophers. In that lecture I used the following quote by Ralph Waldo Emerson, "Trust thyself: every heart vibrates to that iron string. Accept the place the divine providence has found for you, the society of your contemporaries, the connection of events. Great men have always done so, and confided themselves childlike to the genius of their age, betraying their perception that the absolutely trustworthy was seated at their heart, working through their hands, predominating in all their being. And we are now men, and must accept in the highest mind the same transcendent destiny; and not minors and invalids in a protected corner, not cowards fleeing before a revolution, but guides, redeemers and benefactors, obeying the Almighty effort and advancing on Chaos and the Dark." Now I have known and used this quote for years. But this time, it hit me like a ton of bricks. I have been doing all of this grouching about free will and the importance of that in my life and the conflict that I have been feeling because I want my free will, but I also want to know that God is there and that He is in control and that He is aware of me. Well...Mr. Emerson explains to me exactly what I need to do and be in this quote. The spirit let me know, in no uncertain terms, that this was the answer I was seeking. It is time for me to be childlike in my submission to God, which does not mean weakness, but means real strength that will allow me to indeed be a guide and a redeemer and a benefactor. First for myself and then my family and then others, as God sees fit to send them to me.

There was a process this week that brought me to the place where I am tonight (well, this morning). I wish that I had written Saturday night, because Sunday's circumstances today have eroded some of the power that I felt last night, but perhaps I need to write now, in order to make "right" the entire picture, even the negatives of today. Anyway, I had the opporunity for a huge variety of adventures over the course of this week. I lost my boys for a week to scout camp. I lost my girl for a indeterminate amount of time to Florida. I got to attend a large family dinner. I got to see Casey, a cousin, who is just one of the neatest young people I know and I got to talk too much (something that I just seem to do with him...but nobody else of course) and I got to have fun engaging in a fun cause with him and his employer and I even got to introduce him to some of my friends and students. Way cool! I got to spend Friday evening with my angel sister, Darleen. We got to eat terrific Vietnamese food and then walk around Evergreen, the town and the lake, on a gorgeous summer evening. Yes, this was a huge refill of my batteries.

At the end of this week, I had the opportunity to attend a training that would give me a foundation for moving into using math and science more openly and comfortably in my teaching opportunities. Some of you know that math scares me so I was already a bit apprehensive about this training. Then some dark forces went to work and I really had to battle to get my sorry, lazy butt to the training. I had alerted a few folks that I was giving serious consideration to not attending and they went to work on my and I dragged myself to the training. I am embarrassed to admit that I was not an ideal student for this dear woman who came to teach me. I was distracted and distracting often silly and uncooperative. On the final day of the seminar, the dark forces that I felt I was fighting were especially intense and the effort I had to put forth in that battle resulted in a really nasty migraine. But I went down the hill any way. I continued to be ornery and less than helpful in the class and I even took a number of the attendees and ditched out for part of the day to go and see Casey again. But the dear mentor who was teaching just kept working and doing her best (and her best is really something). The seminar ended and I was reminded that I had agreed to spend the evening going to dinner with Misty, our trainer and a few of the attendees. I was pretty certain, by this time, that the last person that Misty wanted around was me and I was still suffering mightily with the headache and I came to the decision to bag out of the evening's activities and head up the mountain. I went into the bathroom for one last time and I got a text alert concerning a comment to a status of mine on Facebook, from a beautiful woman that I once had the opportunity to teach about something that I offered to her in a dream that she had experienced the night before. This was a very old alert, I do not know why it did not come through when she first wrote the comment...or perhaps, I know exactly why it came through when it did. But those words from Kelli softened my heart, very quickly and with that softening, there was an immediate flooding of spirit letting me know that I needed to go with the group out to dinner. So...I argued...for a few minutes...and then I went.

Now dear Misty had every right to not like me and to avoid me and to write me off. She did not. She sat down by me and she engaged in a light and fun conversation that moved in a stunningly quick fashion to a conversation of depth. In the course of this conversation, she came to convey to me that she is another one of my long lost sisters. She understands, truly understands, many of my dilemmas and frustrations and insecurities. And she offered materials and support to bring me comfort and strength and aid. And she offered me something that nobody else has offered me, she offered me time. She gave me permission to take the time that I need to heal and to grow in power and in strength and confidence so that I can truly reach the point where I can be bold and make real change. She let me know that she understands that I am not yet ready to do all of the things that I know I need to do. BUT!!! She affirmed to me that I will be able to do the things that need doing.

Her words, her touch, her looking me in the eye and testifying. Well...it was stunning. I am still trying to process it all. Writing this helped in righting this all in my head. Now, I should sleep and continue to work this all out. I am sure that will likely hear from me again soon. I am finding more and more each day that I must, indeed, write to see right.

A different kind of grief

I have known a lot of loss and have grieved a number of times in my life when those I care for have passed away. Now I am experiencing a different kind of grieving and I am finding this very painful and difficult. In the past little bit of time, I have seen the loss of a couple of very close friendships that I thought would be mine forever. And it is killing me. When one is grieving a death, you are not alone and you lean on people and cling to one another. But when a friendship leaves your life, you must stand back and watch as everyone else continues their relationships with the one that you have lost and so you are truly alone, nobody to lean on. I am also coming to realize that these friendships probably meant more to me than the other party and that makes one feel silly and needy and rather pathetic.

Interestingly enough, another close friend predicted these losses, so one would think that I would be prepared. However, I really did not believe that such losses would truly occur. I pooh-poohed the idea that friends that I cared for, to this degree, could easily walk away. Silly me! It is only the past 5 years of my life, because of tragedy and loss, that I have opened myself up to close friendships outside of my family. It has been a liberating and exciting journey, creating these friendships. But now I am also seeing the pain side of this equation, and I do not like it.

I am sure that I will learn things from all of this, I always do learn. But for now, I am being grumpy because I am hurting.

Humility is pride in God.

The quotation that comprises the title of this post comes from the Irish statesman, Austin O'Malley. It hit me with great force today, as I came across it in my studies. I think he may have hit the nail on the head, but I am still pondering.

I am thinking, a great deal right now, about humility. We have all heard the joke that once you are aware of your humility, it is gone and this is so true. I am trying to figure out just how we gauge this quality. In a dialogue with a friend on this subject, he sent the following definition. "A quality by which a person considering his own defects has a humble opinion of himself and willingly submits himself to God and to others for God's sake." Whoa! Those of you who know me and my philosophy, especially concerning education, will see the mentoring aspect in this offering. And we know that Christ is the perfect mentor and also the perfect example of humility. But I was really struck by the latter part of that definition, "and willingly submits himself to God and to others for God's sake". There is a sense of charity in this statement. I have spent years teaching young people the mantra, "I am nothing, except through God and through Him, I am everything." But tonight I am thinking that this is mantra misses something. This is still about ME and not others. I have so many things that I have found in my studies of this today, but two things really distilled for me, because this entire line of study comes as a result of feeling the need for humility in order to engage best in the spiritual gifts that we have been given. Which means humility in order to serve.

The first of these two things is the scripture 1 Peter 5:5,"...Yea, all of you be subject one to another, and be clothed with humility: for God resisteth the proud, and giveth grace to the humble." (I also considered the NIV translation of this verse, but I chose to use the KJV because I prefer the word "resisteth" the proud, rather than "opposes" the proud.) Peter continues on about humility in the verses that follow, but this one really struck me. Our humility is real when we are so clothed in it that we use our gifts and talents reflexively for others. The most powerful ah-hah for me in realizing this was that charity is truly unique to each of us. Charity is the pure love of Christ and in our limited capacities here on earth, we can only offer the pure love of Christ through our own unique talents, gifts and missions.

The second thing that was profound for me today is along these same lines. It is a quote by William Temple, the Anglican bishop/scholar. He stated, "Humility does not mean thinking less of yourself than of other people, nor does it mean having a low opinion of your own gifts. It means freedom from thinking about yourself at all." Double WHOA! Humility is reflexive. I have preached to those I mentor (most especially myself) for years about gaining a "charity reflex". An ability to react to the needs of those around us nearly immediately through the spirit of God and what He would have us do. Today, I came to see that this reflex is not available to those who are being prideful. AND HUMILITY IS LIBERATING!! "It means the freedom from thinking about yourself at all"!!! I have a lot of pondering, praying and considering to do about this yet, but this feels very right to me. It is not destructive or demeaning, true humility, it is empowering and strengthening. And it is, indeed, different for each of us, as we strive to discover the gifts that He has given us and magnify those gifts, as we are commanded by "being subject one to another".

Thoughts....???

MIA

Yes Mandy, tonight I am in a foul mood as well. So...this will be reflected here. I am grumpy because I am missing people tonight. I am missing people who have passed on. I miss my grandma and my great grandma. I wish that I could talk to them again, because they would let me complain about the knuckleheads in the family. But...they had power, especially Great Grandma and she would then knuckle down on the knuckleheads.

I miss some people who I have not actually met. I miss Socrates. I would love to sit down with that little man and have him tell me to snap out of it and get out of the cave and go learn something and "stop trying to be a politician and please everyone, eventually they will kill you for it."

I miss people who are still around but because of circumstances or distance or something someone said or just plain busyness, I can no longer have them in my life. I miss my Russian literature buddy. I also miss the one who ran off into the sunset with my Russian literature buddy. (Those of you who know the story, I am sorry, but I do miss them.) I miss my sister whose life is so crazy (as is mine) that we just never seem to be able to be together. I miss those who have moved away physically and those who have forced to move away figuratively because I am a dork and I do or say the wrong thing, in the wrong way.

God is making it increasingly clear that the things that I need to face over the next period of time in my life need to be faced alone and that there will be more folks that will come up missing for me. I do not understand. While I am definately one who needs her solitude to stay sane, I so do not want to be alone. I suppose that the answer may be that He is inviting me to turn more fully to Him, and I am trying. But sometimes, I get grumpy and I get tired and I feel like I do my best to help a number of people and then I have a Ray Kinsella moment and I say, "What's in it for me?" In other words, this entire blog post is just one big pity party after a rough day filled with me learning just what a dork I can be! Guess I better go and find something POSITIVE to self medicate with (I said positive, Andy!) before I really dig myself into a state... Sheesh...

Whew! Trying to keep up with a fast moving train of thought...

So, I cannot sleep. This means that I want to either eat (there is a canister of vinegar Pringles calling my name), watch a movie, read, or play on the computer. I chose to start by getting on the computer. This led to a series of thoughts that I am still trying to process, so I am going to write them down. Feel free to try and follow along, but my advice is to RUN LIKE THE WIND!!

Okay, so I get on the computer and I check the blogs that I follow and I see that my friend Terry has posted something new. I check it out. Terry makes me feel so inadequate, she is funny and FILLED with moxie and she is so REAL. She just returned from Nicaragua, where she used her skills as a nurse to bring comfort, medical attention and aid to those in need. And in her day to day life, she is an in home care nurse who deals regularly with the terminally ill. She and I only see each other during baseball season, but I am better for having known her and I love that I recently found her blog.

So, I am sitting here reading her blog and feeling like a lowlife for not charging forward and changing the world like Terry does. Then, I see that I have messages on Facebook and email and so I turn over to them. These messages are from young people whose lives I have been lucky enough to be a part of, for a short time. They are messages of thanks and humor and they make me smile and then tear up. I am so not worthy of these thanks. I am, in so many ways, a fraud and a hypocrite. This line of thinking makes me frustrated and agitated so I walked away from the computer, said a prayer, an admittedly angry prayer, and headed to my bookshelves. I pulled down the book that I am reading right now, for the third time, Brooding by Andy Williamson (great book, I recommend it VERY highly). I start reading where I left off, reluctantly, because I am a place in the story when something hard to take is about to happen and I know it is coming. But then I read the following line, "Tyler also knew - despite his own anger and bitterness at the Lord - that he had just been used by Him to help this lost girl find her way. This fact greatly humbled Tyler and shook him to the center of his being." Oh...yeah...

As I sat there considering this sentence, I was suddenly reminded of something that ugly little dude that so often pops into my head said, yep, Socrates. I pull down Plato off the shelf and start searching for what is niggling at the back of my mind and I finally locate it in "Apology". The quote is as follows, "The greatest way to live with honor in this world is to be what we pretend to be."

Oh, okay...I get it, God. I need to find the humility to realize that as broken and twisted and screwed up as I often am, I can still be an instrument for You. I can find honor in being what I pretend to be and what I want to be, even if I am not perfect at it. And in so doing, I can do some good and I can be an instrument.

I offered words, along the lines of that previous paragraph in a much less angry prayer and felt that familiar tug of the spirit to return to the book I was reading. I started flipping through the pages and came across a passage that I had marked that lit up like a neon sign. These are the words that God offers to the heart of one of the characters in the book. "Do not confuse your perception of yourself with how I perceive you. Don't confuse my love for you with your fickle love for Me. I love you as you are - not as you should be. Accept the fact that you are accepted. You are my beloved child. I delight in you. Trust me."

Whoa...now there are real tears, the good kind...I love these kinds of processes where I can see connections and move from anger and agitation to feeling loved and of worth. Of late, feeling that kind of worth has been difficult for me and so I appreciate, with all of my heart, the peace that is mine, at this moment. Now...I think I can sleep...

The hills are alive with the sound of...mantras...

Every day I try to get out of bed and face the hill shown in my photo. It looks so tame in this shot, I am kinda embarrassed, but it is a tough haul for me in the morning (there is a bend, it is twice as long as I can show in this photo). Most days it takes all three of my inspirational women, Boudica, Sarah Connor and Trinity and all of their combined muscle and a lot of swearing to get me out of bed, but I try. And I am always rewarded. See the gorgeous shot of the clouds enveloping Mt. Rosalie that I get to see on my way back each day, as the sun is rising.

I have a number of very steep and rocky "hills" that I am facing in my personal life. I cannot talk about openly these on my blog but they are always with me, especially on my still, morning walks. Today as I walked I contemplated the fact that Kate keeps bugging me to come up with a mantra. Yesterday, after reading my blog post about my exercise inspirations, I got a message from a friend, telling me that he also thought I needed a mantra and he had a suggestion for me. "DON'T TAKE ANY SHIT FROM ANYBODY". Hmmmm...been chewing on that ever since. And I like it! It works for me because "anybody" can mean myself and right on down the line to everyone else in my life. And it is short and to. the. point! (Side note: I was raised with ranchers and drillers, my language can be colorful. But as my friend Curtis' grandfather used to posit, 'God does not count it as swearing when there are cattle or machines involved.' Well, I am certainly a cow, so I am thinking that this exempts me from being held accountable for this...)

So...now I have a mantra as I face the hills in my life. I am going to try it out today. I believe that I do need that default in my brain to keep myself from being overwhelmed and to shock me into keeping my head clear and to plan and face whatever it is that God is going to ask me to face.

Motivation

I am working so hard right now to try and get myself in shape and get a handle on the weight monster. I Have made some progress this week and I am pleased with the progress. I was thinking about the three photos that I have posted for myself as inspiration as I work towards being healthy. They are a photo of a painting of Boudica and one of Linda Hamilton as Sarah Connor in Terminator and one of Carrie-Anne Moss as Trinity in Matrix. As I was contemplating these tonight as I was on the eliptical, something struck me. Yes, I posted these photos because of the physique of these women, but I realized tonight that there is a great deal more to these choices for me. I want to be like these women (characters). I want the strength that they exhibit. There is Boudica, queen of the Iceni, revenging the rape of her daughters and fighting the Roman invasion and coming much closer to this goal than anyone ever would have believed. Then there is Sarah Connor protecting her son and the entire human race. Same thing with Trinity, with the added spiritual element and belief in prophesy and mission that she offers. As I work to improve myself, I want to do so for health, but more than that, I want to do this for empowerment and strength of purpose.

I have to say how much I appreciate great characters. In books, in movies, and in some television programs, I have found inspiration and drive. This week I have been introduced to some very real characters, in a great novel and I am so grateful tonight for the motivation that I am finding there as well. Now...enough rambling...back to work!

(See Roxanne, this post does lend itself more towards the sill side of things...)

I love monsters

I have been ruminating on this post for awhile. I was sitting here reading and I just read the following statement in the book Brooding by Andy Williamson. "Living in his grandmother's house, Tyler knew about fear. But his mom had also explained to him the difference between real fears and pretend fears. She never read him any of the spooky books she bought, but there were enough frightening moments in the classic lit that she did read him for him to discern the difference." (By the way, I will be reviewing this book in the near future, but I do have to say that I am really enjoying it.) Reading this paragraph brought this theme to mind and since I am not sleeping, I will get these thoughts down.

I love monsters. I realized this when a friend asked me why I loved Dr. Who so much. I told her that Dr. Who makes me think and I love monsters and Dr. Who has great monsters. Then I started to consider why I love monsters and I realized something. I can watch a movie or a program with monsters and there is no fear, well not any real fear. I can get all charged up as the storyline unfolds and the hero/heroine has to battle the monster and then they usually win and all is well. Then I walk away and that is that. But if I watch a movie or a program that has a villain that is a person, it is not that simple. After a program like that, even if good triumphed, it does not stay behind me. I find that I may have nightmares or an inability to stop thinking about that story and I find it much more difficult to walk away. A monster is not something that I am ever going to face, but a person who chooses to prey on others is something that I have faced and may face again and that is too real a fear for me. Coming to understand this also helped me to explain why I hate so many movies that others love and think that I should appreciate as well. If I am going to be frightened, in my entertainment, I choose to be frightened by pretend fears, as Mr. Williamson indentifies them. I tried to explain this to my husband the other day and he thinks that I am pretty ridiculous, and others probably feel much the same, but it works for me.

My new journal

Karena is in Europe. This means that I can say whatever I want about her right now and she cannot do anything about it. I do not like Karena at this moment. I love her, she is my sister in so many ways, but I do not care for her presently. As our school year came to a close, Karena did something for me that nobody has ever done before. I am the queen of journals. I am all the time giving journals to people and nagging them to record their adventures, whatever adventure may look like for them. Anyone who knows me, knows that I am the journal freak (and pest). But nobody has ever given me a journal before. Karena did and it is so beautiful. It is definately a journal that I would pick for myself, so it is obvious that she knows me. It is green (the only color of any real standing), it is an Irish journal (which is as close as you can get to a Scotland journal and still be green), it has thick, beautiful, cream colored pages and every other page or so has a beautiful quote or Irish blessing written in the corner. However there is a BIG BUT attached to this jounal. I cannot write just whatever I want. Karena gave it to me and told me that she is fed up with me not seeing my worth. She told me that all of these people around me see what I am, but I do not. So...this is a "greatness journal", and I am to use this journal for the express purpose of recording things that I see in myself that are great. What a load of hooey. So here I sit. I cannot sleep. And this journal is taunting me as it has been for days. Now understand, I truly am a journal freak. The idea of all of those empty pages makes me crazy and I have opened this one dozens of times already, dying to fill a page. But then I hear Karena's voice and I cannot think of a thing to write down. Tonight I decided that I could get around Karena's stipulation by writing a dedication at the beginning of the journal to the woman who had presented it to me. So I got it out and opened to the first page and I froze. Karena may be all the way over in Europe, but she will not always be, she is coming home in a couple of weeks. And she will demand an answer and I am scared of her. So...sigh...the journal is still not broken in and continues to taunt me. I finally turned to one of the pages where the following blessing is written, "Count your blessings in stead of your crosses; count your gains instead of your losses." I really like this blessing. So, I drew a very pathetic attempt at the "like" thumbs up hand that you can click on Facebook. Now, perhaps the journal will stop sitting there smirking at me and I can get some sleep.

I love Mondays!

I do love Mondays. In our faith, we have a lot of young people out serving missions. Monday is what they term their "preparation day". It is a day for them to take care of things like laundry and such. It is also the day that they write to their families and friends. I get about a dozen emails on Mondays, forwarded from parents, from an incredible group of young people that I love and admire. So, I really, really look forward to Monday.

One email that I received yesterday really struck me. It spoke of an address, given to the missionaries by their mission president, where he discussed the concept that
"casualness will lead to casualty". WHOA!! As soon as I finished this letter, I began to play with this concept and pulled a few things off of the shelf and began to study. I pulled out works by those who are not casual or indifferent is another word I would use for casual. One of my heroes, Elie Wiesel stated the following, "Our obligation is to give meaning to life and in doing so to overcome the passive, indifferent life." We live in a time where the passive, indifferent (casual) life is a real danger. After reading Mr. Wiesel's passage, I turned to my two first resources, scripture and Webster's 1828 dictionary. I was blown away by what I found under the definition of casual, in Mr. Webster's dictionary. In today's world, the word casual has come to mean lighthearted or fun or pleasurable. In fact, in the latest Oxford dictionary, here on my desk it defines casual as "relaxed and unconcerned". But I prefer Mr. Webster's definition, after what I have pondered today. "1. Falling; happening or coming to pass, without design in the person or persons affected, and without being forseen, or expected; accidental; fortuitous; coming by chance. Taking place, or beginning to exist without an efficient intelligent cause, and without design."

I see so many that I love who are falling, who are working without design and therefore are finding themselves in casualty because of this casualness. We cannot be casual any longer. We must use our intelligence and design our futures. As Mr. Wiesel says, we have an obligation to give meaning to life. In the scriptures, in this morning's study, I love Paul's words in 1 Corinthians 14:8, "For if the trumpet give an uncertain sound, who shall prepare himself to the battle?" We cannot be laid back or casual about our words or our lives or our plans. We must trumpet loudly so that those around us both hear and understand the challenge and the plan. And then we must act, with surety and power to enact the plans that we have created. This does not mean that we will not have failures or struggles, but we can avoid casualty, most of the time, at least casualty that was our doing. This is the lesson that I needed to learn today. And it is a lesson that I will pass on to whoever will listen because as Paul further reminds us in 1 Corinthians 14:10 "There are, it may be, so many kinds of voices in the world, and none of them is without signification." NONE OF THEM! Every voice is important, whether one chooses to use that voice for good or evil, it must be heard and not simply allowed to drift away in casual indifference, for that is the greatest tragedy.

My 100+ most influential books.

Okay, here it is. I posted this on Facebook, but some of you are not there (Tam...) and I mean for this to be a discussion and so I would love to hear feedback from anyone. Argue with me, tell me which ones you have read that have also been influential to you, agree with me (but I prefer argument!), whatever, but let me know your thoughts. I should clarify that this was not easy and I never could narrow it down to just 100 and I had to stick in a number of series and "complete" works to make it something that I could be comfortable with.Also, I could not even begin to put it in order of importance, well I could begin, but I could not end, so it is presented in alphabetical order. Those of you who know me, know full well which ones are at the top...maybe... But it was a fun exercise!

5000 Year Leap, The by W. Cleon Skousen

84 Charing Cross Road by Helene Hanff

Adam Bede by George Eliot

Agony and the Ecstasy by Irving Stone

Ah Wilderness by Eugene O'Neill

All Creatures Great and Smal by James Herriot

All My Sons by Arthur Miller

Amelia Peabody Mysteries by Elizabeth Peters

An American Childhood by Annie Dillard

Anti-Federalist Papers by Various

Apocrypha

Approaching Zion by Hugh Nibley

Art of War by Sun Tzu

At the Back of the North Wind byGeorge MacDonald

Atlas Shrugged byAyn Rand

Autobiography of Benjamin Franklin by Benjamin Franklin

Bhagavad-Gita

Book of Mormon

Brief History of Everything, A by Ken Wilber

Building a Character by Constantin Stanislavski

Centennial by James Michener

Charlotte's Web by E.B. White

Cheaper By the Dozen by Gilbreth/Carey

Christmas Carol, A by Charles Dickens

Chronicles of Narnia by C.S. Lewis

Color Code, The by Taylor Hartman

Color Me Beautiful by Carole Jackson

Common Sense by Thomas Payne

Complete Fairy Tales and Stories by Hans Christian Andersen

Complete Grimm's Fairy Tales by Brothers Grimm

Complete Poems of Hafiz by Hafiz/Daniel Ladinsky

Complete Poems of Robert Frost by Robert Frost

Complete Stories of Anton Chekhov by Anton Chekhov

Complete Works of E.A. Poe by Edgar Allen Poe

Complete Works of Ralph Waldo Emerson by Ralph Waldo Emerson

Confronting the Myth of Self Esteem by Ester Rasband

Constitution of the United States of America

Count of Monte Cristo, The by Alexandre Dumas

Cross Creek by Marjorie Kinnan Rawlings

Cultural Literacy by E.D. Hirsch

Dark is Rising series by Susan Cooper

Dear and Glorious Physician by Taylor Caldwell

Declaration of Independence by Thomas Jefferson

Diary of Samuel Pepys by Samuel Pepys

Discworld Series by Terry Pratchett

Duncton Wood by William Horwood

Fairy Books series by Andrew Lang et al

Federalist Papers

Feynman's Rainbow by Leonard Mlodinow

Great Brain series by John D. Fitzgerald

Great Divorce, The by C.S. Lewis

Great Expectations by Charles Dickens

Gulliver's Travels by Jonathon Swift

Harry Potter Series by J.K. Rowling

Heart of Darkness by Joseph Conrad

Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy by Douglas Adams

Holy Bible

How to Win Friends and Influence People by Dale Carnegie

Illusions: The Adventures of a Reluctant Messiah by Richard Bach

Island of the Blue Dolphins by Scott O'Dell

Josephus by Josephus

Joy of Cooking, The by Various

Les Miserables by Victor Hugo

Lessons From Great Lives by Sterling W. Sill

Little House on the Prairie by Laura Ingalls Wilder

Little Women by Louisa May Alcott

Lord of the Rings series by J.R.R.R. Tolkien

Magna Carta

Magnificent Obsession by Lloyd Cassel Douglas

Major Works of John Donne by John Donne

Man Who Mistook His Wife For a Hat, The by Oliver Sacks

Mastering the Art of French Cooking by Julia Child

Of Mice and Men by John Steinbeck

Once and Future King, The by T.H. White

Papa Married a Mormon by John D. Fitzgerald

Persian Poets by Peter Washington

Personal Recollections of Joan of Arc: The Complete Version by Mark Twain

Peter Pan by James Barrie

Pilgrim at Tinker Creek by Annie Dillard

Pippi Longstocking by Astrid Lindgren

QED: The Strange Theory of Light and Matter by Richard Feynman

Qur'an

Ramona the Pest by Beverly Cleary

Republic by Plato

Respect for Acting by Uta Hagen

Rip Van Winkle by Washington Irving

Screwtape Letters, The by C.S. Lewis

Secret Life of Plants by Tompkins/Bird

Series of Unfortunate Events by Lemony Snicket

Shakespeare, Complete Works by William Shakespeare

Shambhala: The Sacred Path of the Warrior by Chogyam Trungpa

Silas Marner by George Eliot

Spoon River Anthology by Edgar Lee Masters

Stories of Ray Bradbury by Ray Bradbury

Story of Civilization Series by Durrant, Will and Ariel

Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde, The by Robert Louis Stevenson

Surely You're Joking Mr. Feynman! by Richard Feynman

The Sojourner by Marjorie Kinnan Rawlings

Thomas Jefferson Education, A by Oliver van DeMille

Thurber Carnival by James Thurber

Tipping Point, The by Malcolm Gladwell

To Kill A Mockingbird by Lee Harper

Torah

Where the Red Fern Grows by Wilson Rawls

Wonder Book, The by Nathaniel Hawthorne



.

Mommy problems

For those of you who did not see my status post on Sunday on Facebook, it reads, "I understand. We all have mommy problems." (Overheard from one of Seviah's buddies when she told him she couldn't do what he asked because her mom said no. Totally cracked me up.)

Yep, funny stuff. Even after Kurt Dorkoven (yes, I went there) made a smarmy comment about how his therapist tells him that he has mommy issues and that it is always the mommy's fault.

But...my mind has been chewing on this and has been getting frustrated. So often, what Kurt said is correct, it is always the mommy's fault. Why is this? I have been seeing evidences of this all over the place. In one of my own situations today, I saw it strongly. Karl and I went to a follow up visit with a specialist who had done some testing on one of our children. Because last week was my big push week with tech week on the play and the performances, Karl had to take our son to this testing. Yes, Karl called me about a million times to get our boy's entire medical/developmental history, but he is a good, hands on dad and did a nice job getting our son through the testing. But today, as we sat in our follow up visit, the specialist sat there looking only at me. Hardly ever at Karl, even though he had a million questions. It was very clear that she felt that onus of causing improvement in our son was on me and some of the things that he lacks are my issue as well. I came home frustrated and decided I better make this a matter of prayer and study. So I prepared my study materials and said a prayer (admittedly a relatively whiny prayer), but before I even got up off my knees, the following thought struck me, hard. "Welcome to my world, I get blamed for so much and so often do not get credit for the good in the world." Oh boy, humble pie, a big slice of it. Then I opened the scriptures and got some more of the same. One of the first scriptures that popped into my head was one that came to mean so very much to me all of those years ago when, after repeated miscarriages, I feared that I would never be a mom. Psalms 113:9 was such a comfort and promise for me. "He maketh the barren woman to keep house, and to be a joyful mother of children. Praise the Lord." With this reminder, I was struck with the memory of the ache I once felt to be a mother and how grateful I was to finally have my children. Then it got interesting. As I looked at more and more scriptures I came to see that God puts a great deal of trust and stewardship in a mother. In Leviticus, he repeatedly invokes fear of mothers and fathers to get his message across, usually listing the mother first. And this continues in Deuteronomy and then in the Psalms and the Proverbs there is repeated reference to the fact that those who are foolish are the ones who ignore their mothers. And then the kicker, for me at least. Proverbs 29:15, "The rod and reproof give wisdom: but a child left to himself bringeth his mother to shame." Oh! I see. I need to be a mother. I need to be right there with my children. I must not leave them to themselves. I have been offered the beautiful mission and opportunity to truly be God's hands on earth and if I use discipline and strength of conviction, my children may have "mommy problems" but I will welcome that and even embrace it. And one day, when my kids are talking about me and their frustrations and even damage they feel that I did, I will know that I tried and though their accusations may sting, I will know that I am in good company, and that God knows this same sting and will not leave me along. And now, I can sleep and drift off pondering, with joy and excitment, the way that I can tackle motherhood on the morrow!

Spring Cleaning

I have felt the need to clean, deeply, in many areas of my life of late. This week that manifested itself in a purge of my closet. I took everything out of that closet and laid it out in the living room where I could see it. I like clothes, it was a huge and daunting mess. Nobody could move in our living area and I had so many things to do that I was not getting this big task done in a timely manner. Enter Kate. I love Kate. Kate is my angel. Kate saved me. She rode in, on her white horse (in the form of a powder blue minivan) and hugged me and kissed my cheek and then scolded me and we went to work. We sorted and filled trash bags for charity and we talked and we hummed and we sang and we giggled and we had long stretches of companionable silence as we folded and I was not alone. And we made of my closet a masterpiece. But Kate was not done. Kate stayed with me and brought order to a number of dark corners in my home. I sit here tonight in a home that is not perfect, but it is better and I feel Kate here and I am not alone. I sit here, in this peace and study the scriptures and was drawn to the word "clean". I quickly found something intriguing. We are instructed to make ourselves clean, as clean as we are able, but it will not be enough. In order to truly be clean, we must be cleansed. We cannot cleanse ourselves. We cannot do it alone. Only God can cleanse. So, we start the cleaning projects and often get into a huge mess, one that we want to finish, but it is just too daunting. And then, when we are ready to just walk away or accept having to live with the clutter, disorder or even filth, we so often find that we are not alone. He who can cleanse, in whatever form He takes for you, is suddenly there and He is sorting and talking and scolding and carrying and moving with us in companionable silence and before we know it, the pain is past and we see order and peace. Thank you Kate for being an instrument and an angel and for allowing me the peace that I needed to study and find that I will never be alone and that all of the cleanliness that I desire is available to me if I will but begin the cleaning process.

Mother's Day 2011 - Warning, this is a downer.

For years, I have struggled with those women why so vehemently hate Mother's Day. I have never understood this attitude. I love Mother's Day...or I did...Today I think I might get it, just a wee bit. It hardly felt right to celebrate being a mother today. I was too tired to drag myself out of bed this morning to attend church and I had a terrible time getting the kids up when I did finally arise and then we had some issues at our home because of irresponsibility on the part of my children. My husband is not here and that did not help. (Although he did write a small poem for me...can you imagine? KARL WROTE A POEM!! He hasn't done that since the day he asked me to marry him.) I have tried to take on a couple of large projects to surprise Karl with while he is away and I fear that they are just going to prove too much and he is going to return to a bigger mess. And there are a ton of people who need things from me and I do not know how to meet all that lies before me. Sigh. I should go to work on those projects now or study something to bring me out of this shlumpy place, but I think that I will just crawl down the hall to bed and put this day behind me.

Anniversaries

Today was a semi tough day. May 2nd always will be to some degree. I do realize that these anniversaries are silly to some folks, especially a number of men in my life, but I find that I need to observe them. Because of who I am, I will never totally stop grieving those that are lost to us for a time. And there is a part of me that embraces these emotions. They are so real and cause me such focus and stillness, that I appreciate these anniversaries for the introspection that they offer. They cause me to not only remember great women like Kelsey and Kjersti, but also help me take stock to be a better woman myself. Days like this remind me that I do not know how long my mission will last and I must make the most of each day. There are those of you that I love that get uptight with the remembrance of these anniversaries, and I am very comfortable with your need to just grieve when you will. I ask the same for me, I need these days, they keep me both grounded and fed.

The American Pastime

I saw, in action today, what makes baseball and America great, at least for me. It is a game for all. Even I have played softball, catching with my worn out knees and loving every minute of it. But today I saw such beauty in the game and what it offers. I was attending a doubleheader for my son Malachi's team and then music started playing and people began cheering on an adjacent field. I walked over. There were a large group of people dancing and clapping and there were these children. Some of the most beautiful spirits you could ever hope to meet. And they were in uniform and they were so excited. You see, it was opening day for The Challengers, the handicapped league, formed a few years back by some great folks at Northern Lights. I watched for awhile and took a bunch of photos, three of which I posted here. Then I sought out a leader, because I wanted to know more. I learned that they began this league with 16 youth and now have 69 participants on 5 teams. I watched this man's face as he talked about this program and what it has meant for his child and for others and I saw mission. I love seeing mission. I got his information. Karl and my boys will be volunteering for this group, there is much need. My favorite photo above is the one with the young, able bodied boy, pitching to one of the young ladies on the league. The participants were enjoying themselves but the able bodied volunteers were lit up. It was glorious. My favorite moment of the day? A young man who was wheelchair bound got a hit and began making his slow way around the bases. An impaired young man got up behind, a large youth, and he connected and had a beautiful hit. He started around the bases and very quickly passed the wheelchair bound teammate. He got to third, realized what he had done and made a large circle to return to the teammate, asked permission, and pushed him so that they crossed home plate together. Yes, for those who know and tease me so often, I was crying. Best day of baseball I have experienced in years.