Hump Day

There is a television commercial that focuses on a camel wandering around a cubical farm asking the employees what day it is.  It is a Wednesday and the camel enjoys telling everyone it is “Hump Day!” As is the case with many commercials, beyond calling attention to the middle of the week, I’ve no recollection of what is being marketed.

If Wednesday is “Hump Day” what does that say about Thursday? Personally I agree with the Douglas Adams character, Arthur Dent who claimed he “Never got the hang of Thursdays.”

For many years my schedule was centered around the demands of my ministry family. Being married to a minister our week looked a little different than others. Weekly activities started on Tuesday. (Monday’s were our day “off”) Wednesday was Bible Study night or quizzing at church. Friday and Saturday normally meant choir rehearsal, and other preparations for Sunday’s service. And of course Sunday was a full day of activities relating to the church. Thus leaving Thursday as the odd duck day. I rarely lost track of what day of the week it was because of what was happening that day. There was a sense of security in all the busyness.

That is not the case with many individuals who no longer have demands made for their time. It was not uncommon for my late father-in-law to use his phone to determine the day of the week—and no he never owned a Smart Phone or any beyond the rotary dial type. He would call his doctor’s office and ask if he had an appointment that day. After being assured he did not he would casually ask, “Oh, okay so what day is today?”

Never would I have imagined I would find myself in this category a full 30 years earlier than he. Yet, I will often confirm the day of the week by checking my cel phone. The majority of individuals living in my building have no schedule beyond the activities of the apartment building. My lack of busyness is only temporary, as I hope to recover from an injury and move on, not so for many here.

Many sit in the lobby waiting for the mail to arrive. I hear snatches of conversations about the day of the week. It seems Meals on Wheels delivers 3 days a week. The community van arrives once a week to take residence shopping at the local grocery. Once a month there is a potluck luncheon—always the 3^rd Tuesday. Monthly trips to the local Food Pantry sees activity as residence busily swap out the foods they don’t want. Those items no one wants are placed on a table in the lobby and mysteriously disappear. (I suspect they are like the unwanted 5 pound fruit cake that gets passed family to family every Christmas.)

Another resident and I—both new to the building, have tried our hand at the business of busyness. We have introduced a few opportunities to aid in relieving the boredom of everyday existence. Amazingly we have discovered a sense of contentedness among many in being miserable. Rather oxymoronic but very true. At least misery loves company, and for those who rarely receive any it is enough.

The other favorite pastime is gossiping. The folks here have raised it to an art form. My mother reared me by the “Thumper Philosophy” based on the Disney character who said, “If you can’t say something nice…don’t say anything.” I suspect if that were enforced here there are those individuals who would have nothing to say at all. I had to chuckle when one resident in retelling a tale admitted to “already sharing more than she knew!”

Communication is necessary for the human spirit to thrive. Incidentally according to many health agencies Wednesday is the day most common to suicide. Regardless of the day of the week people need people. I challenge you my fellow travelers to make it a practice to go the extra mile and make an effort to communicate with someone new. It may be that extra bit of attention to get past “hump” day for one more week. Live loving the journey.

Travelers Welcome

There are many little towns in Texas that were once bustling communities. The oil boon of years gone by turned these sleepy little towns into thriving communities almost overnight. Their decline when the oil dried up was predictable but longer in coming. Those towns  which had more to offer than oil have managed to stick around.

Living in one of these small towns has been fodder for many of my blogs. As this is my 250^th blog entry I wanted to do something different. I set out to research the history of one of the town’s landmarks, The Traveler’s Hotel. This three-story structure was built to accommodate the growing need for housing during those boon years. Opening during the early 1920’s it boasted a spiral staircase and crystal chandeliers. Those staying in one of its 54 rooms had only to share bathing facilities with one other room! A full service restaurant on the main floor fed many a traveler. Plans had been drawn for additional floors to be added as needed and the foundation reflected those plans. Sadly the future plans for the hotel were cut short when the oil dried up and the nation faced its greatest depression.

Yes, my plan was to write about the building. Somewhere along the way my plans changed—much like the hotel itself. Today, the Housing Authority qualifies those residence, in need, a place to stay in one of its modest 34 apartments. An elevator replaces the once grand staircase and most likely anything else that would have made the hotel memorable has been modified to meet today’s standards.

Amid stories I had read of how the owners fed many in the restaurant who would have gone without during the Depression. How they even supplied rooms to those in need all without charge. As I sat down to write this blog a strange sense of peace prevailed. Being a resident in the structure referred to by most as simply “the hotel” I sense a kinship with others.

Whether I am joining in with conversations in the lobby or sharing a meal during the monthly “pot luck” luncheons, I am made to feel welcome. I’m still learning the names of those who live here. Some have been here for years and others like myself are newbies. We chat as we wait for laundry to be done or for the mail to be delivered. Most, like myself, live alone…save for their many canine companions.

The personality of the hotel is one of caring and compassion for one another. I arrived with nothing more than 2 suitcases of clothing. Today, nearly 3 months later I have all I could need. Looking around my apartment I sense the same spirit that must have been here years ago. The owners changed as did the town around it but the building continues to be an example of what Texas is so good at…fostering independence while sharing hospitality. Yes, we have a rather motley crew of tenants. Some over share while others embellish tales with more than they know. Yes everyone knows when cabbage is on the menu. There are those special few tenants who may need an extra bit of attention—and most of us are glad to give it. The end of the month may come long after funds are depleted so we lend a helping hand or share what we have. When one is gone we grieve for our loss—knowing they are in a better place.

So, with this my 250^th entry I ask my fellow travelers to continue to enjoy the journey wherever life takes you. You may find friends and encouragement in the most unlikely of places. Seek out what is good and don’t dwell on what was. Learn from the PAST, Live for TODAY and HOPE for TOMORROW.

Are You A Package Shaker?

It’s Christmastime, we all look forward to those special days when we give, and receive, gifts from family and friends. There is just something special about receiving the brightly colored packages, tied with ribbons and bows. My brother in law managed to wrap packages almost too pretty to open. When my niece Dani was four her favorite part of Christmas, any gift giving occasion really, was to shake each package and try to guess what each might contain, announcing it before opening it.

Sometimes she was right, but this usually irritated the gift giver who had spent time selecting just the right gift for her. No one ever seriously threatened to take her gift back but secretly some considered it. Unintentionally my niece was putting her loved ones in a bad situation. On one hand they were upset when she had guessed what their gift was. They were robbed of the joy of seeing her face as the wrappings fell away from their gift. I’m sure they were happy to know they had gotten the little girl something she really wanted—but on the other hand it was embarrassing to have the child guess the package contained something that it didn’t—her disappointment well hidden I’m sure.

In our dealings with God we act sometimes like my young niece. We ‘second guess” Him even before we give Him a chance to meet our need. We pray to God for answers but before He can respond we ‘shake out’ the answer we want. Often we place before our Heavenly Father a situation that we already know how we want/think it should be resolved. Praying answers instead of requests—then, because of our expectations, we are disappointed when the answer doesn’t contain our conclusion.

Let God choose the right gift for you—and thank Him for his insight and thoughtfulness. Remembering He has the perfect timetable and conclusion. We need to remember that God’s answers are always the best and that He is the giver of every good and perfect gift—all year, not just at Christmas.

You Can Do It!

The ability of the human spirit to thrive in adversity is truly amazing. Having physical therapy three times a week has been a challenge for me at times. My body rebels at the exercises designed to help repair a damaged knee. In the hour to hour and a half of treatments and strengthen efforts I have had the opportunity to observe others in the wellness center. Most of the other patients are my age or older. One sweet woman slipped on the ice of a few weeks back and her recovery is coming along. A gentleman recovering from a stroke is more easily tired. There is a wiry looking gray haired woman with lots of spirit—she throws all she’s got into every requested movement of her body all with a smile on her face. Then there is a young man learning to adjust to life without a leg.

I first noticed the young man a week or so ago while he was working on the padded therapy table in the center of the room. As I pedaled my way to nowhere I observed his progress—or lack of. The physical therapist was doing his best to assist the young man but his efforts were thwarted at every turn by the patient’s complaint of “I can’t do it.” On subsequent sessions I noticed him walking using a prosthetic leg assisted by 2 therapists and using walking sticks. He would stumble and halt his progress at every other step. His head down he looked defeated.

Today as I observed his attempts maneuvering the parallel bars he again seemed to be ready to give up. Then an amazing thing happened. As the young man started yet again 2 small children came running to his side. This time the therapist enlisted the help of the 2 small daughters. Directing them to stand a distance off, he instructed his patient to look ahead at his little girls and not down at his feet. He walked toward those smiling faces back and forth several times amid cried of, “You can do it Daddy!” Finally, fatigued he sat—sweat may have damped his hair but it couldn’t damped his spirit or the smile covering his face.

There is a quote by Henry Ford that says, “If you think you can do a thing or you think you can’t—you’re right.” Sometimes there is a fine line separating the two. The difference is in what we allow to form our outlook. As I watched the transformation in the efforts made by this young man in the presence of his young daughters, I was touched. Nothing had changed except where he focused his attention. By choosing to look ahead and not down, looking to the smiles of his daughters and not at the missing appendage made all difference.

Leaving the center I noticed the same young man being assisted into a van. Excited chatter was heard deciding who would sit where and eager hands helping Daddy into his seat. Yes, the human spirit is truly amazing. My friends if you find your focus is on what you have lost, left behind or failed to find it will only bring you down. I encourage you to take your focus off what cannot be changed and instead look ahead. Look up and away. Be strong and blessed as you continue on your journey.

How Much Do You Weigh?

Spending the first night in a new place is usually an adjustment for me. Even with all the traveling I do it still takes some adjusting in a new environment. Last night, my first night in a new apartment, was no exception. Compounding the issue of a different bed was the fact that the bed wasn’t level. It slanted at the bottom corner causing me to slide downward all night. Waking tired I had a sense of deja vu.

As a small child I was injured in a car accident. My recovery entailed a lengthy stay at the hospital with my leg suspended in traction. My mother, probably still in a bit of shock at her youngest child being broken, provided an inaccurate weight of her off spring. The error caused—a ”miscalculation of the counterweight” pulling my body to the bottom of the bed and rendering the traction less than beneficial. Of course the medical staff realizing the error were quick to remedy the situation by readjusting the weights.

Are there areas of your journey that have gotten out of balance? Do you find yourself constantly adjusting and readjusting schedules to meet the demands? If you can relate, how are you doing with the counterbalance? Perhaps you—like me have suffered a miscalculation the results of which have left you sliding. Regardless of the intent there are a fixed number of hours in the day and only so much of you to share. Mess up the counterbalance and you find a less than beneficial life—as soul, spirit, mind and body rebel.

We want to do it all—take a calculated risk and hope for the best. Since there is no way to adjust what we have to give, it becomes necessary to make adjustments to the counterweights—something has to go. Fail to make adjustments and the outcome will determine itself. You will find you are letting things slide making your efforts unrewarding and your strength spent.

Are you struggling to pull yourself against the weight? My advice is give it up—your body will give out before you figure it out. Recovery gets harder and harder as frustration robs us of the desire to do anything. As we are about to start a new year, resolve to do more than shed those holiday pounds. Recalculate your counterbalance and travel a happier and healthier path. Enjoy the journey, my friends and Happy New Year.

The Advent Faith—The Coming Promise

Recently while attending Sunday service with a friend, I remarked that it was the first Sunday of Advent. My friend looked at me curiously as she had never heard of celebrating advent. My explanation was far from the scholarly but was enough to encourage my friend to want to know more. In an effort to be better prepared with an answer I stumbled upon a deeper meaning for my own celebration of this blessed season.

Advent means coming as expecting what is to come, to wait—not in an antsy is it time impatient attitude. To wait in anticipation and wonder that God Himself is in control of the universe. In the fullness of time God sent His Son, Jesus came as a babe in a manger.

It is believed the first advent wreath was for the purpose of counting down the days to Christmas. It was a wheel with 24 holes drilled to accommodate 24 small candles. One lit every day in December as it led up to Christmas. The center included 4 larger candles to signify the 4 Sundays. Over the years the Advent Wreath has been reduced to simply the 4 or 5 candles lit the Sundays leading up to Christmas.

Regardless it’s origin the tradition is shared in many faiths as a reason to focus on the celebration of the First Advent as well as anticipation of the Second Advent. Each candle holds a significant focus—and this varies from group to group, starting with HOPE as a purple candle. Subsequent weeks include PEACE, JOY and LOVE in pink candles. A 5^th candle—usually white represents the Christ candle. Many devotionals have been written to assign individuals from the first Christmas with each candle.

I found the focus of Hope, Peace, Joy and Love were strong enough to generate my own responses. This is my second year of single celebration. I must admit to all but avoiding celebrating last year. This year I am using my solitude to attempt to draw closer to the spirit of Christmas as it speaks to me. (My hope, MY joy, MY peace MY love.) Understanding these are my personal goals and not an attempt to diminish God’s plan in anyway. The choices may seem unusual—some have accused me of apostasy. How I choose to anticipate and celebrate–whether ‘out of the box’ or in, is between God and me. If I were to simply celebrate by habit or rote it would not be sincere. MY hope…for the coming year is to be in a relationship with Christ that is genuine. I hope to live a life that reaches out and not hoards blessings. My joy…is to know and experience true living inside that proves I am alive and growing. My peace.. is in knowing my standard is being measured not by the approval of the world or the church but of God and His love for me. My love…perhaps is the hardest of all. It is a work in progress. Learning to love the ‘me’ that God created. That love which overlooks the slurs of those who claim to love me yet want to change me. But the love to look ahead and imagine the deeper love that may be yet on the horizon. So, not a typical Advent writing however this advent season I am reminded that I must wait expecting—anticipation not anxiety, blessed not stressed, looking forward not back and to love living the journey. Join me as we travel together.

Creative Truth Telling

My mother (and many others I am sure,) claimed to have eyes in the back of her head—she always knew what we were up to. When I was very young I recall a friends mother claiming to be clairvoyant. Not in the strange out in left field aspect of knowing everything, just when it came to her children and truth telling. She would approach her daughter and say, “Look me in the eye and tell me what really happened.” (this was usually following a misdeed of sorts) She claimed she could tell if her daughter were telling the truth or fabricating a tale simply by looking into her eyes. Her skills seemed fool proof.

No, mom wasn’t a human lie detector. It was years later I understood how the feat was accomplished. Mom would ask the question and stare into her child’s eyes. If my friend were trying to hide something she would close her eyes tight—so mom had no way to see her eyes. Mom had her answer and knew she wasn’t being honest. If she had nothing to hide she would open them wide. And if there were elements of truth my friend would squirm and squint.

So I ask, do you squint and squirm or have your eyes wide? Personally I don’t believe it is as cut and dried as that sounds. There are elements of communication that take into consideration the spirit of the request. (The wife who after an agonizing week of dieting asks if she looks any thinner…or does this dress make me look fat? The preschooler writing to Santa or simply handing a wilted bouquet to mom asks, Do you love it?) The hard brutal truth—and I know people who adhere to it, would shatter the bubble of hope and serve no purpose.

Creative truth telling. Yes, I think we tell a version of truth that spares feelings. Is this lying? Where does it end? I do my best to live honestly. What you see is pretty much what you get. I am sure there are aspects of who I am that bother some people. As a result I try to be sensitive without being wholly dishonest. My actions could be seen as lies of omission. If my actions or attitudes don’t exactly mesh with your religious philosophies I am not going to change just so you think better of me. Besides my motives are known to God and He is the ultimate judge. It is that fact that gives me a sense of contentment—the peace of God the exceeds all our understanding.