The sacrament of kindness

I wish I knew how to mark up a computer screen...you know, underline things and make side bar notations on articles I read online so I can find the important stuff later? Like I do in books...

I got up early this morning...way earlier than makes me happy. But there comes a time when all the tossing and turning and flipping and flopping like a beached fish only means you need to surrender...drag yourself out of the comfy coziness...and get the coffee brewing.

Because I'm in a semi-conscious state until coffee hits my nervous system, odd things tend to roll around in my brain...things I've had on my mind...things I didn't know I have on my mind.

Such as the word sanguine. It was the first word to push itself into my consciousness this morning. I slowly recalled that it was a word I had used yesterday in a message with my daughter-in-love. We were attempting to encourage one another which is usually hilarious as we are so similar in personality and temperament that it's like the blind leading the blind! But it's fun...and we usually triumph...and if nothing else, I love listening to her!

Anyway, sanguine. I mentioned that we were both of the sanguine (rhymes with penguin) type and that should explain why we are the way we are. But after I said that I thought, 'Gee, I really should look that word up, because just having a word pop into your head does not mean you know it'. So I Googled it, and as they say I was ROFL...hysterically. Us extroverted? Optimistic? If we were, I'm sure we wouldn't be having a conversation on encouragement! And that thought percolated in my head overnight, until it rudely woke me up in the wee hours of this morning.

So with nothing else to do at 5 am, I decided I needed a perusal of The Four Personality Types to set myself straight. Now this is probably where I am going to lose some of you, but hang in there...I promise I'll not go astray or heretical here!

Let me copy a few main points from the article I started with to show you where I'm going with this...

The Four Temperaments personality system attempts to describe a person's overall attitude towards problems, other people, and life in general in a very broad way.

There are four temperaments, which are combined into twelve pairs called 'blends'. Each person has one of these blends that fits how they are most of the time; it is constant throughout life, not a shifting mood. Temperaments don't change according to circumstances; rather, they determine how we react to situations.

The temperaments are a way of classifying peoples' emotional attitudes, the foundations of their personality. They apply in a very broad strokes way - that is, they are vague rather than specific and detailed - and make no attempt to identify every detail of a person's personality.

Temperaments are not passing moods, or phases in our attitudes. They are the foundation of our emotional natures, which stay constant throughout life (barring perhaps severe brain injury), from birth until death, even though every other aspect of our personality may change.

Our views, our beliefs, our tastes, our confidence levels... All these things DO change while staying bound to a fundamental temperament. The temperament affects how these things change.

Got it? I'll put the link at the bottom of the blog if you want to go deeper...or need things clarified. But for now, this should suffice.

Let me start off by saying that for all my life I've had this crazy image of what I should be...what I should do...how I should act. They say that how you are as a child is a precursor to what you will be like as an adult...and by golly, they were right!

When your heart rips open and love pours out

Didn't I just say that blogs always come on days when I have a dozen other things lined up to do? Well, maybe it's a test to see if I'll be obedient to the Spirit or the flesh. That lends a slight spiritual emphasis to the tension, doesn't it?

Today I want to talk about Buddy...the little gray, some-kind-of-mix-of-mutt dog we took in over 10 years ago. He was found wandering in a town many miles from here and first adopted by a man Ted was working for. Unfortunately this match did not work out, so guess who brought the dog home? Let it be written and known that it was not me this time! For once I was in favor of passing him on...we had just returned from Mexico and I was burned out and felt I did not need one more thing to take care of.

But no matter how hard we tried, Buddy just wasn't meant to be anywhere but here. He joined our pack as the littlest, and maybe the not-so-brightest member. He never bonded with our other two dogs who had such a close relationship that when one of them died, the other mourned. Buddy hated walks with a passion, which is one of my criteria for a good match of any dog for us. He had no special attachment or interest in any of us. The only thing he really loved was food...any time of the day or night, Buddy was ready to eat. Well, now that I think of it, maybe he was a good match for us!

Anyway, Buddy wanted us and that was that. He made it known from the beginning that he would do things his way. For that reason, we had no high expectations for Buddy, and he liked it like that...a life of sleeping, eating, doing his duty, and an occasional turn about the yard made Buddy a happy and contented pup.

But time changes all things...

When you haven't loved well and you know it

They say honesty, openness, and transparency make for a good blog post. We shall see.

This is one of those written-from-the-heart-I'm-not-sure-what-people-will-think-but-I'm-going-to-risk-it-anyway blogs.

The humbling kind.

The kind that I will still include in my grandchildren's book someday, thankful that they can learn from my mistakes...probably glad that I will be gone by the time they read it. Grandchildren do seem to idolize their grandparents, don't they?

So, I've cancelled all my activities for the day. I've told my husband not to come home for lunch. I've nixed attending tonight's Bible study. All I want to do is cry. And think. And repent.

There are days you can run from what God is saying, and there are days you need to turn around and embrace it. This feels like one of those Jonah Days...when God allows you to slam into a wall and you realize that you have been running in the wrong direction...moving under your own power and understanding...

But now it's time to stop. Turn around. And repent.

The beauty of an ordinary life

Winter has a way of slowing me down. I'm not into winter sports...or any sports for that matter! Well, except hiking and walking if those are sports, but probably not as usually a sport involves competition...with someone else. It's just me and my camera and my binoculars competing with myself to see how far I can venture on my rambles and explorations. And that's the way I like it.

This slowing down during Winter is something I have learned to embrace. Our winters are milder in North Carolina than the ones of my childhood in the Northeast.  I have learned to bear with our four short months of gray and clouds and cold. As they say, "If you can't beat it, join it."  My gardens and all around me are at rest...any outside work has to wait until Spring whispers her invitation for the world to awaken.

Being forced to be inside has its benefits...one being more time to read my stash of books and work on photography and blogging and other interests that bring me joy.  And I love sitting in the warmth of my home watching the variety of birds that flock in to our feeders for the daily smorgasbord I offer them. They are so much easier to spot without those pesky leaves on the trees!

Right now I'm working through the book, Magical Journey...An Apprenticeship in Contentment by Katrina Kenison. Most of the book has been underlined, which means it will take its place on a specific area of my bookshelf reserved for books that speak to me. Or, as I like to think, I could have written!

They are the handful of books that come to mind when someone I know is going through something I've already walked through...the books I want to buy them so they too can be blessed and encouraged by the truth within. True book lovers will understand this compulsion!

Today Katrina talked about the beauty of an ordinary life. Doesn't that sound lovely? After all, that's what most of us have...ordinary lives. And the idea that they can be beautiful...well, it just sounds so hopeful!

I don't know about you, but I have never desired to be famous. Well, maybe in my teens for some reason but I was delusional then. The idea of people watching me and following me and being in my face sounds nightmarish to me. I am an introvert who can be an extrovert for short sprints of time, but in the end am happiest when I can return, with a deep sigh of relief, to a hidden life. Please know that I'm not against people being famous...as long as it's them and not me!

So, the beauty of an ordinary life...what does it look like?

Bluebirds and sinners and grace, oh my!

I know years go by fast for two reasons. First, it's always Thursday night and time to put out the garbage. And secondly, The-Great-Bluebird-House-Clean-out-Time is upon us...again.

The garbage thing is no big deal...it's Ted's job to drag the loaded can up the gravel driveway to the roadside. If he ever dies I will just leave it there.

But the birdhouse clean-out...that's a 2 person job...one to do the work, and one to write down the pertinent data. That be me.

Now, if you don't have 33 Bluebird houses to clean out you may struggle with understanding the breadth of this task. It started innocently enough with a few houses. And then the babies from those houses needed houses of their own. And every year this issue has grown exponentially until now it is akin to a nightmare. For us, not them.

So this weekend, if it doesn't rain, we'll drag out the ladders and heavy gloves, the screwdrivers and scraping tools, the drill and extra plastic entryway covers, and load them all into the car along with my trusty book and pen, and set out to see what the past year has wrought.

Don't get me wrong...I love Bluebirds and I love helping them. Not too long ago they were struggling to survive development and loss of habitat. Now the Nuthatches are feeling the same pain. Don't tell my husband, but this year I have plans to put up a few more Nuthatch dwellings just to lend a hand. I ask you...can I do any less?

Last week I was out birding with friends, and we were talking about I can't remember what and I shared how the Flying Squirrels have taken over some of the houses, and one of the women said, "Oh, how cool! I've always wanted to see them!" And I said, "Well, then feel free to come along because we've given up three of the houses to them and I'm sure they're there."

And I'm sure they are there. It's another case of "Aw, they're so cute (when they're not jumping out and flying in your face as you open the birdhouse door)...and look at their little tiny babies...even they need homes so let's leave them alone." Guess who said that? Hint...it  wasn't Ted.

And that's what's got me thinking this morning...how things get into our lives that may seem good, but they aren't helping matters any.

The gift of not knowing

There are mornings when I wonder what I'm doing...when I've just spent hours working on a blog and I walk away and come back to reread it and all I see is blah-blah-blah.

And painfully I realize I should have pressed the delete button hours ago.

Who was that person that took over my body and brought such rambling and non-sensibleness into being? Surely not moi?

I should know by now that when it feels like the words are stuck...when it's an effort to birth a thought...that maybe the baby's not ready to be born yet.

Seriously, I need to print this out and tape it to my computer: Unless the Lord builds the house...or the blog...they labor in vain to build it. Amen?

Yeah. So. Let's try again. Let's start at the very beginning as the song says...

On January first to be exact.

Merry Christmas? It's just not working.

This won't be a long blog. You're busy. I'm busy. The world is crazy busy, especially this time of year. And I need to get out and ring a bell.

In order for you to understand where I am going with this Merry Christmas? It's just not  working blog thing, you need to know that this year I answered a cry from the Salvation Army for more bell-ringers. I had been asking God to show me where I could serve...I tend to get paralyzed like a deer in the headlights at all the  opportunities to minister out there and I need Him to make is so clear that I couldn't miss it. And He willingly obliged. A call went out. I heard it. And now I ring. Simple!

One thing about the Salvation Army is that it gets the job done, providing shelter, food, clothing, whatever is necessary, freely, to those in need with little going into corporate pockets. I like that. I can stand in temperatures so cold that my mouth stops working and the bell tumbles from frozen fingers for a cause like that!

But yesterday I was struggling. I don't know how other people do the bell ringing.  I've heard that some bell-ringers sing and dance and do all sorts of talented things to draw people in. But me of little talent, I just sit there and smile and wish everyone that comes in front of me a Merry Christmas!

And this is where the trouble started.

After about three days and hundreds of Merry Christmas! wishes, I began to struggle. At first I thought it was the cold, making my words slur together, But then my greeting began to sound shallow. Wrong. Out of place.

First there was the man who stopped, looked me straight in the eyes, and said, Happy Hanukah! I blinked and then replied the same to him.

Next came the sad-eyed woman that sidled up to me and stood there. She needed to tell me that her mother had died this year and the Merry just wasn't there anymore. Oh my dear, I know your pain!

And the multitude of others who had stories to tell of loss and sickness and a year that was anything but Merry. And after each story my heart grew heavier.

Between visitors I found myself singing the song, I Heard the Bells on Christmas Day...repeating over and over the one verse, "There is no peace on earth, I said."

Hour after hour a parade of broken humanity walked past me. My heart cry became, "Lord, how do I bring hope into these people's lives?"  A Merry Christmas! wish is not working.

And that question has been hanging on to my heart throughout the night. And this morning it's still there.

Options have presented themselves like tidy schoolchildren for inspection...

Peace! No, they'll think I'm from the 60's and some may give me the peace sign back, and then what will I do?

The peace of the Lord be always with you! Which says more but has too many words to say over and over again to all those people. They'll think I'm drunk as my speech begins to tangle after the first hour.

Happy Holidays! Oh my, no. That's got all the makings of our secular culture.

Good Morning! Good Afternoon! Good Evening! Ugh. It not only sounds like The Truman Show, but I'm back to the same problem...Merry/Good...not going to work.

What I wish I could do is stop. And listen. And take time to meet each person where they are at...where their pain is making havoc of their lives...where their fears and questions hang them.

At times I have wanted to fold up my bucket stand and walk away. How's that for true confessions?

But I can't.

I love that so many give money, freely, to a worthy cause. And that's really why I'm there. It's the greeting that I'm struggling with.

So, this is what I've decided...

Today, I will give the gift of Presence...right there in front of that food store, next to the Sun City retirement community.

By His grace I will greet each person with a smile and a God bless you!  because only God knows where each of those precious souls are in their earthly wandering and where they need a blessing. I sure don't.

You see, they know it's Christmas. I know it's Christmas. You couldn't miss it in our culture.

But what they may not know is the reason we celebrate Christmas...that it's not about gifts and parties and busyness. If that is the only star to follow, we will end up hopeless and exhausted and broke.

Instead, Christmas is a gift of relationship...from a God who cares so passionately for us that He left the glory of Heaven to come to earth as a vulnerable infant...Who, living a sinless life, was the only worthy sacrifice for our sins...ultimately dying on the cross for our salvation. This is the message we all need to hear...over and  over and over again...not only at Christmas, but every day of every year.

The true meaning of Christmas is that God loves us so much He provided a way for us to be with Him forever...Christ Jesus, Emmanuel, God With Us.

And now, because of this Gift, we have hope every day, no matter what life throws at us.

And that is what I pray my smile and greeting will tell them.

So, on that note I leave you...it's time to get ready to ring. Thanks for listening.

And in expectation of ringing today, I say with a full heart, God Bless You!

May the joy and hope that Christ brings be yours in abundance during this season of celebration and throughout the New Year!