Tonight I left a comment on a fb post by a friend. Her son didn’t make the basketball team and he is devastated. I wrote something along the lines of, in addition to knowing that God has more for him and not being able to see the long game from here, that I prayed they would soon see (as we did this year) that sometimes God blesses us by taking things away.
I’m not so good at deciding on “no”. I’m not good at quitting things or refusing things or saying no thank you to things. Ironically, I’m also not good at losing. I’m not good at not making things or not getting what I want. In high school, I never ran for SGA because I was afraid I wouldn’t get it. If I ever had a doubt about making something, I just didn’t try for it.
Last spring, I applied for a teacher grant to take a trip to Europe with a Holocaust curriculum organization. This is going to sound super arrogant, and I’m aware of that, but here’s the truth: I KNEW when I applied that I would get it. In fact, I said these exact words to Kraig, “I need us to both be in agreement before I apply, because there is no doubt I’ll get it.” And it’s not even terribly arrogant (though it sounds it), it’s just logic. I have been teaching about the Holocaust for 19 years, I have been a Teacher Fellow with the TN Holocaust Commission for 15 of those, I teach a course for which I wrote the curriculum, I have won awards in the field, and I use this curriculum regularly. It’s a no-brainer. I just needed to make sure that I was okay with it because it would mean getting back home from Cambodia on a Monday and leaving for Europe less than a week later, then missing the first half of in-service week and returning to school literally the day after I got back. I can be a machine when I need to, and I was desperate to do this trip, so I knew I could make it.
We would be notified in April as to whether or not we got it, so imagine my shock to receive an email from the organization in March while on Spring Break. My first thought when I saw it in my email was that it was a quick and easy decision so they sent them out early. And I was ready! I had priced airfare and asked permission to miss the days of in-service.
Except that it wasn’t an acceptance email. It was a rejection email. I actually read it three times, I was so sure that I had misunderstood. I was breathless. How in the world??? How had I not gotten it??? Well, the email stated that they had such a response that they did the first two cuts by eliminating anyone who had already been to Yad Vashem or Auschwitz. With that, I was out of the running.
I don’t think they have ever used that criteria before, and nothing in the paperwork made mention of it mattering how widely you had traveled before. First time for everything, I guess!
What I realized in July of this year, upon my return to the US from Cambodia and at the beginning of some weird foot swelling thing that started the end of July (while I would have been in Europe, walking nonstop), is that I couldn’t have done it. I never would have been able to pull off getting home from one trip across the world and then left immediately for another across the pond, then gotten back and started school with students. It would have set a tone of complete exhaustion and challenge on a year that would bring more than its fair share of both.
I didn’t know any of that. I don’t say “no”. I don’t try for things that aren’t for sure. But He knew all of it and He blessed me by taking away the opportunity. It was the same thing He did for Emma this year in regard to volleyball. He knew how much of her joy was lost to that white ball and the image it gave her of herself. He knew how frustrating and difficult so many parts of being on that team were for all of us, things I didn’t even realize until it was over. It didn’t feel like a blessing at the time, but it was. Some days since, it hasn’t felt like a blessing, like the game I forced myself to go to this year to support my students and the loss of being part of it was almost too much to bear... like the day they left for state and we cheered them on in the hallways and I unexpectedly started to cry because I was always certain that would be us one day, that volleyball would always be part of our life. I missed some of the girls. I missed some of the parents. I missed the thought of a senior night, of putting a picture of Emma at her first volleyball camp as a tiny girl next to her senior photo. I just missed it. I call volleyball the sport that broke my heart, and I wasn’t even the player. But the truth is, volleyball MAY HAVE broken my heart, but we are so much better off without it. Its absence is a blessing.
He does give and take away, and often He takes what He does because we aren’t smart enough to know to say “no” to it. It’s just the blessing of addition through subtraction.
Just Look...
Thursday, November 7, 2019
Wednesday, November 6, 2019
Rest and Death
One day in the fall, one of my kids asked me, "Why do the trees die?"
Without really thinking, I responded with, "They aren’t dead, they just shed their leaves. If they were dead, they wouldn’t bloom again in the spring."
As the trees are turning right now, and leaves are starting to fall (hello to my two LEAST favorite seasons of the year, fall and winter), I've been thinking about death and rest and bloom.
Seasons are... weird. And also refreshing (except when the season leaving is glorious like summer and the one coming is sad and dark and cold and empty like fall/winter, haha!). It's strange that the scenery around us can go from blazing full of gorgeous color to spindly skeletal tree limbs. And sometimes only a day separates the beauty from the void.
Often, we mistake rest for death.
Often, rest is required for bloom.
I think that in a society that celebrates being busy, on the move, getting stuff done, seizing the day, and on and on, we think that taking time for rest and restoration is something to be ashamed of. We see a pause as a stop, a rest as certain death.
Not only does rest not mean death, NOT stopping to rest can absolutely lead to death. The entire premise of crop rotation is based on giving the land room and space and time to rest and recover. Without it, the bloom would never come.
There is a Jon Acuff poem (weird, I know, as we don't think of him as a poet) that I LOVE:
"Give the grave only bones." Wow. And the entire premise of this poem is that we must live as if we are people on mission, using our gifts and talents for the Lord and others. I think that is ABSOLUTELY true.
I have learned, through some weird health situations, that my body requires rest and if I don't offer it willingly, it will take it forcefully. Since 2016, I have been doing a better job of listening to the rhythms in my body and taking time to slow down, get plenty of sleep, drink water, and even specifically schedule time alone for myself to recharge emotionally.
However, as I try to follow these patterns that I know are right for me, I am constantly fighting the part of me that keeps screaming, "You are losing the ground you gained! Your business just started getting a lot of interaction on social media and now you're letting it go dry again! You just got into the flow of writing and now you have nothing you want to say anymore! You just got the house organized and straight and now you're letting it slip into messiness again! Keep going, doing, being! GIVE THE GRAVE ONLY BONES!"
Contrary to what that voice inside my head is screeching, I also think that poem and statement can be read as a caution against dying with dreams and potential unrealized, with regrets. And many times, what is needed to realize our dreams and our potential is a season of rest, or at least moments and rhythms of rest along the way.
I'm trying to learn the simple lesson of science that the trees teach us every single year... resting isn't death, it's necessary for new life.
Often, we mistake rest for death.
Often, rest is required for bloom.
I think that in a society that celebrates being busy, on the move, getting stuff done, seizing the day, and on and on, we think that taking time for rest and restoration is something to be ashamed of. We see a pause as a stop, a rest as certain death.
Not only does rest not mean death, NOT stopping to rest can absolutely lead to death. The entire premise of crop rotation is based on giving the land room and space and time to rest and recover. Without it, the bloom would never come.
There is a Jon Acuff poem (weird, I know, as we don't think of him as a poet) that I LOVE:
If at the end of my life, the only thing I’ve accomplished is a comfortable life, my days have been wasted.
If at the end of my life, the only thing I’ve fought for is my own name, my days have been wasted.
If at the end of my life, the only thing I’ve stood for is my own reputation, my days have been wasted.
If at the end of my life, the only thing I’ve traded are works for rewards, my days have been wasted.
May we not go to the grave quietly.
May we not make refuse of the gifts we’ve been given.
Arrive empty to the grave, having given all you were given, stewarded all you were tasked with.
Give the grave only bones.
"Give the grave only bones." Wow. And the entire premise of this poem is that we must live as if we are people on mission, using our gifts and talents for the Lord and others. I think that is ABSOLUTELY true.
I have learned, through some weird health situations, that my body requires rest and if I don't offer it willingly, it will take it forcefully. Since 2016, I have been doing a better job of listening to the rhythms in my body and taking time to slow down, get plenty of sleep, drink water, and even specifically schedule time alone for myself to recharge emotionally.
However, as I try to follow these patterns that I know are right for me, I am constantly fighting the part of me that keeps screaming, "You are losing the ground you gained! Your business just started getting a lot of interaction on social media and now you're letting it go dry again! You just got into the flow of writing and now you have nothing you want to say anymore! You just got the house organized and straight and now you're letting it slip into messiness again! Keep going, doing, being! GIVE THE GRAVE ONLY BONES!"
Contrary to what that voice inside my head is screeching, I also think that poem and statement can be read as a caution against dying with dreams and potential unrealized, with regrets. And many times, what is needed to realize our dreams and our potential is a season of rest, or at least moments and rhythms of rest along the way.
I'm trying to learn the simple lesson of science that the trees teach us every single year... resting isn't death, it's necessary for new life.
Tuesday, November 5, 2019
Wisdom and Strength
I love to hear my kids pray. As much as I wish I could say we are super spiritual and that we pray together every morning, or that I can hear them praying aloud from their bedrooms, that would simply not be the truth. However, I do get to hear one of them pray aloud each week in our family devotional and meeting. It’s the highlight of my week, especially with a few of them, the ones who tend to guard their thoughts and feelings a little more closely than the ones who share every thought that crosses their minds (KELSEY). When they pray, I get a glimpse into their heart and their relationship with God and often really profound things are said in this conversation with their Father.
He longs for us to run this race of life with wisdom, the wisdom found in Him and through His Word and relationship. He longs to grant us the strength to do more than just survive, but to LIVE with joy and contentment and as a beacon of His light to those around us. So today, let that be the whisper of your heart to your Father: “Give us the wisdom to run a good race and the strength to finish. And while you’re at it, strengthen my hands.”
Back in the fall, Roman was leading us in prayer and one of the requests on the list were the cross country meets for four of five sons and daughters. I will never forget what he said….
He prayed, “Lord, give us wisdom to run a good race and the strength to finish.”
Admittedly, I am not a runner. If I were praying about a cross country meet, my prayer would just go, “Please let me survive to the finish line and not be too embarrassed.” As I thought about his prayer, I thought about the difference in a runner and a …. let’s just be gentle and call me a “non-runner”.
Until I parented runners, I didn’t realize that wisdom went into running. I just assumed you run as hard and as fast as you can until you can’t anymore. I didn’t know about pacing and about reading your competition and about training and about the mental game of running. It takes wisdom to run a good race.
How often are we living our lives in a “just let me survive to the finish line and not be too embarrassed” sort of way? How many Sunday nights do I look at the week ahead and think, “I just need to survive these next three days and it will ease up”? How many mornings do I wake and mentally calculate the number of hours till I can get back in bed? How many days do I just get through, waiting for a weekend? How many obligations and events do I “just survive and hope to not be too embarrassed”? Is that living? Or is that just surviving?
The wisdom in running our race can be found in His Word and in time spent with Him. What sets us apart from the world, the world that is just surviving, if that’s all we are doing too? I’m afraid that too often, we lose sight of the fact that we are to run our race with wisdom. We are called to spend time listening to the message He has for us, to apply it to our lives, and to live our days with purpose and intention, with wisdom and integrity.
I don’t know if Roman was thinking about the connection between running with wisdom and finishing with strength, but they are closely linked. The strength to finish comes from the wisdom with which he runs. If he runs wisely, pacing himself and keeping his mental game in check, the strength for the finish will be there. But if he pushes himself harder than his capacity and lets his competitors get in his head, the finish will be a gasping disappointment.
Nehemiah is one of my favorite books of the Bible. I don’t know what the draw is that my heart feels to that book, but I have loved it since my rediscovery of it as an adult. It’s one that I like to go back to and read every few months. This last time, back in December, the words of Nehemiah 6:9 jumped off the page at me: “For they wanted to frighten us, thinking, ‘Their hands will drop from the work, and it will not be done.’ But now, O God, strengthen my hands.”
What a SIMPLE prayer… Strengthen my hands. Nehemiah was building a wall while fielding threats and rumors and dissension in his ranks. My kids were running 3.1 miles while fighting their bodies and their minds and the terrain and their opponents. You and I, we might be battling anxiety or bad news or family dynamics or difficult people bent on making our lives challenging or maybe just the day to day mundane tasks at home and at work that never seem to end. But no matter which camp we find ourselves, a simple prayer for strength will spur us on.
Monday, November 4, 2019
Child B
“There he stood, already beyond my reach, my father, the center of my life, just labeled JEW. A shrill whistle blew through the peaceful afternoon. Like a puppet a conductor lifted a little red flag. Chug-chug-chug –puffs of smoke rose. The train began to creep away. Papa’s eyes were fixed upon us. He did not move. He did not wave. He did not call farewell. Unseen hands were moving him farther and farther away from us. We watched until the train was out of sight. I never saw my father again.” ― All But My Life: A MemoirTomorrow, my Holocaust Lit class will discuss what is probably my very favorite Holocaust memoir. Gerda Klein's word-poetry as she shares her story of survival is absolutely something that lodges in your spirit.
This particular quote is one that I always take with me from the text. I can hardly read it aloud to my class without tearing up. It's not even the final goodbye in this moment that gets to me, it's the very first line.
"There he stood, already beyond my reach, my father, the center of my life, just labeled JEW."
That line echoes with the many layers and worlds that each of us have and inhabit. When I read that line, I think of my own dad. I think of his raucous laughter, his generous spirit, the joy he takes in hearing funny stories and pranking people. I think of the pride in his eyes when he looks at his kids and grandkids, the way he loves my mom (and harassing her), and the profound faith in the Lord that he has walked out throughout his entire life. I think of his gentle touch with his animals, of his adventurous spirit, and of his loyalty to his loved ones. While my dad could be called "Christian," "electrician", "cowboy", "family man", or "friend", he is so much more than any of those titles. When I look at my dad, I see the young, strong man who used to slalom ski while holding me in his arms. I see the man in his 30's who climbed powerpoles in storms. I see the middle-aged man who buried his parents. I see the aging man who keeps sick grandkids and drives people around when they need it. I see my past, my present, and I see my future in him.
And yet these Nazis, they saw only one facet of the lives of their victims. And that one facet, while something to be celebrated, they viewed as something worthy of death. Gerda's father, who held as many memories and personality traits and talents and weaknesses and laughter and interests and hobbies and goals and ambitions as my own, was seen only as the one word that condemned him to death.
Yesterday was Roman's birthday. I was searching through old photos to share some of him and I came across a photo that I actually never did see at the time, but that was sent to me later. It was the photo of him from what is called the Special Home Finding List, a list of children who are available for adoption in the Philippines who are "difficult to place", children who have physical or mental challenges, who are older, or who are part of a sibling group. Roman, as a part of a sibling group of three and a teen, fit into this category. This list is similar to the Heart Galleries of foster children that many states have and lists that other countries produce. In Roman's photo, he is labeled "Child B". The accompanying written description is about Francisco, Roman, and Angela (which I won't share).
When I look at that picture, I can't help but chuckle at the pen he has tucked in his shirt and the fact that I can guarantee you that what is cropped out is a shirt tail that is either already untucked or was as soon as the photo was taken. He always, ALWAYS has a pen because he is ALWAYS fiddling and doodling. He is never still and neither is his mind. I think of all the people who looked at this list, at my Roman, and just saw Child B. And quite honestly, I think how grateful I am that he didn't become the son of some other people who saw this list, that God knew that he was for us and we were for him.
After having all of those thoughts yesterday morning, we had a church service with special music by Voices of Lee. One of the lines from a song, "Ever Be", jumped out at me: "You Father the orphan
Your kindness makes us whole." Roman isn't "Child B" to the world anymore because he is now (again) a chosen, treasured son. But he was NEVER "Child B" to God. The moment his parents perished in that storm, he was legally an orphan, but he was never left Fatherless. God picked him up in His arms, all three of them, and named them... "Loved"... "Protected"... "Cherished". And that is who they are today, valued as such by the Lord and by us, their family.
The world will attempt to devalue those in it. It will attempt to strip identities, to slap a label and consequences that come with that label on everyone in its path. It's up to us, all at different times, to refuse to allow the labeling of "Other", "JEW", "Less Than", "Illegal", the R-word I can't even say, racist terms, "Addict", "Monster", the children abandoned and abused and rejected by their families. Every person we know is a person of layers, a person who inhabits many worlds and who carries all of time inside him or her. It's up to us to just LOOK.
Sunday, November 3, 2019
Dream Progress
Since I have committed to writing in November, I decided to take some time today to reread some of my previous posts. I happened upon this one (Doing a Little Dreamin') from September, 2013, and what a shot in the arm it was for me! In that post, I listed ten dreams I had for my future. Of those ten dreams, five of them have already been fulfilled, and most of those five in a more dramatic and intense fashion than I would have even hoped. I really needed a reminder that, even when it feels like I'm treading water (or worse, moving BACKWARDS), I'm not. Things are happening. Dreams are being fulfilled. And if I spend too much time looking at what I have not done, I miss the things I have.
This is another really great argument for the benefit of journaling and writing. I wouldn't have remember what I was hoping for in September of 2013 if I had not taken the time to list it. Below is my list of dreams from that post and what the status of those dreams stands at today...
Original List:
I would love to, probably after retirement, work with a non-profit (or even START a non-profit). Absolutely still a dream of mine, and probably one I desire even more strongly in 2019 than I did in 2013.
Just one time, I would like to work with refugees in an active area... like today along the Syrian border. Again, still a dream and one I desire even more. In fact, I made the statement the other day that I would really like to travel to Syria and some people overheard me and laughed, saying, "That's not really a statement you hear people make." However, I would love to see this dream fulfilled.
I want to do something amazing with my camera. I want that one picture that tells a story that matters to the world. Preferably of a child or an event of historic or societal significance. Yep, still have a dream of photojournalism. Still feel haunted by the one picture I did not take, but that lives in my mind, a photo that honestly could have possible been that one that told a story that mattered to the world. Until that day, though, I'll just use my camera to document the lives of those I love more than anything.
I would like to work in some aspect with people working against crimes against humanity. Still a dream, but maybe one that has changed a little bit. I have developed a strong interest in the fight against human trafficking, the injustices of our criminal justice system, in prison ministry, and in drug/alcohol recovery. One of these areas might be the ones that this dream evolves into.
✅I hope that at some point soon, I will get to teach with someone who was my student. In my department. Thank you, Kaitlyn Poulakis, for making this dream a reality!
✅I want to visit many, many, many more countries. Have added several more countries to my list since this post and will be adding even more this summer! Dream in progress!
✅I'd like to travel the entire US. Have seen much more of the US, have a plan to see more soon, and am always moving toward checking off the full 50!
✅I want the four of us to go on a family mission trip. Preferably many of them. Have taken Emma to Cambodia, Kelsey to Cambodia, then traveled there this summer with 6 of our 7!
✅This one is not a secret to anyone who knows me, but it's not something I talk about too much because I keep it very close to my heart. I hope and pray that one day the calling I feel that God placed on my life when I was just a very young child will come to fruition and we will adopt a child. 2 years and 11 months after typing this list, we saw a video of our kids for the first time. Except not ONE child, but THREE. And not CHILDREN, but TEENS. Look at God!
I desperately want to write a book. A real one. With a real publisher and real buyers. :) This is the one I hold dear right now. I pray that one day, I'll revisit this very list and put a checkmark beside this point.
I think it's important sometimes to just sit down and think about your dreams. Some of these are relatively simple and I know I can accomplish them. Others are far more complex and I have no idea if they will come to be. Still others involve other people and dynamics and depend on the support of many more beyond myself. No matter how they play out, they occupy places in my heart right now. And there they will continue to grow.
I would love to, probably after retirement, work with a non-profit (or even START a non-profit). Absolutely still a dream of mine, and probably one I desire even more strongly in 2019 than I did in 2013.
Just one time, I would like to work with refugees in an active area... like today along the Syrian border. Again, still a dream and one I desire even more. In fact, I made the statement the other day that I would really like to travel to Syria and some people overheard me and laughed, saying, "That's not really a statement you hear people make." However, I would love to see this dream fulfilled.
I want to do something amazing with my camera. I want that one picture that tells a story that matters to the world. Preferably of a child or an event of historic or societal significance. Yep, still have a dream of photojournalism. Still feel haunted by the one picture I did not take, but that lives in my mind, a photo that honestly could have possible been that one that told a story that mattered to the world. Until that day, though, I'll just use my camera to document the lives of those I love more than anything.
I would like to work in some aspect with people working against crimes against humanity. Still a dream, but maybe one that has changed a little bit. I have developed a strong interest in the fight against human trafficking, the injustices of our criminal justice system, in prison ministry, and in drug/alcohol recovery. One of these areas might be the ones that this dream evolves into.
✅I hope that at some point soon, I will get to teach with someone who was my student. In my department. Thank you, Kaitlyn Poulakis, for making this dream a reality!
✅I want to visit many, many, many more countries. Have added several more countries to my list since this post and will be adding even more this summer! Dream in progress!
✅I'd like to travel the entire US. Have seen much more of the US, have a plan to see more soon, and am always moving toward checking off the full 50!
✅I want the four of us to go on a family mission trip. Preferably many of them. Have taken Emma to Cambodia, Kelsey to Cambodia, then traveled there this summer with 6 of our 7!
✅This one is not a secret to anyone who knows me, but it's not something I talk about too much because I keep it very close to my heart. I hope and pray that one day the calling I feel that God placed on my life when I was just a very young child will come to fruition and we will adopt a child. 2 years and 11 months after typing this list, we saw a video of our kids for the first time. Except not ONE child, but THREE. And not CHILDREN, but TEENS. Look at God!
I desperately want to write a book. A real one. With a real publisher and real buyers. :) This is the one I hold dear right now. I pray that one day, I'll revisit this very list and put a checkmark beside this point.
I think it's important sometimes to just sit down and think about your dreams. Some of these are relatively simple and I know I can accomplish them. Others are far more complex and I have no idea if they will come to be. Still others involve other people and dynamics and depend on the support of many more beyond myself. No matter how they play out, they occupy places in my heart right now. And there they will continue to grow.
Saturday, November 2, 2019
The Head Turn
By the real time, I missed writing on November 2; luckily, however, it's the night we set our clocks back and so I have 42 more minutes! ;)
I write about running an excessive amount, especially for someone who never has and never will do it. What can I say? There are so many life parallels to running.
My high schoolers ran their last race of the season two weeks ago. It was regionals, and it was a pretty huge race.
I was standing at the finish of the boys race, waiting on my guy to come across, when I looked up and saw a real race to the line heading toward me. I LOVE those exciting finishes when two or more runners just race it out to the last possible second, even when they are racing for like 54th and 55th place.
Anyway, there were three boys headed toward me with the one in the middle just a stride out ahead of the other two. As they drew closer, the one in the middle and the one on the right left the fellow on the left. Now we were down to two, and these two were POUNDING it out toward the finish.
I was probably ten or twelve paces ahead of the line and, just as they got almost even with me, the leader glanced to his right. He didn't see his competitor because he was at least a stride or two ahead of him still, but he no doubt sensed him there, because he then turned his head completely to the right to see where his opponent was.
Want to guess what happened next? Yep, just about 6 paces before the finish line, the other kid pulled up and passed the leader, maintaining his lead to finish the race ahead of the kid who was running out front of that pack of three when I first noticed them.
The time the original leader lost in that head turn completely negated the effort he had put in to stay ahead the entire race to the line. It was over for him the moment he turned his head to assess his position on those running with him.
How often is that us in the race of this life? How much time and effort and energy do I lose, just throw away, because I'm too busy comparing where I am to those around me instead of just running my race? I can answer that... way too much.
It's hard to stay focused on our own races (and our own walks) when we are distracted by everyone around us who seems to be gaining on us or who has long since passed us. I spend a lot of my time feeling like I'm behind where I should be, like I'm getting lapped by those who are accomplishing all the things I thought I would have by now. And in looking around me, I'm using valuable time and energy and resources that could instead be spent on pushing myself along.
My race is not dependent on theirs. My position doesn't have anything to do with theirs. My pace is my own, and I'm striving to be the best ME I can be, not the best I can be when compared to everyone else. May I, and may YOU, always remember that the head turn is where we lose the race.
I write about running an excessive amount, especially for someone who never has and never will do it. What can I say? There are so many life parallels to running.
My high schoolers ran their last race of the season two weeks ago. It was regionals, and it was a pretty huge race.
I was standing at the finish of the boys race, waiting on my guy to come across, when I looked up and saw a real race to the line heading toward me. I LOVE those exciting finishes when two or more runners just race it out to the last possible second, even when they are racing for like 54th and 55th place.
Anyway, there were three boys headed toward me with the one in the middle just a stride out ahead of the other two. As they drew closer, the one in the middle and the one on the right left the fellow on the left. Now we were down to two, and these two were POUNDING it out toward the finish.
I was probably ten or twelve paces ahead of the line and, just as they got almost even with me, the leader glanced to his right. He didn't see his competitor because he was at least a stride or two ahead of him still, but he no doubt sensed him there, because he then turned his head completely to the right to see where his opponent was.
Want to guess what happened next? Yep, just about 6 paces before the finish line, the other kid pulled up and passed the leader, maintaining his lead to finish the race ahead of the kid who was running out front of that pack of three when I first noticed them.
The time the original leader lost in that head turn completely negated the effort he had put in to stay ahead the entire race to the line. It was over for him the moment he turned his head to assess his position on those running with him.
How often is that us in the race of this life? How much time and effort and energy do I lose, just throw away, because I'm too busy comparing where I am to those around me instead of just running my race? I can answer that... way too much.
It's hard to stay focused on our own races (and our own walks) when we are distracted by everyone around us who seems to be gaining on us or who has long since passed us. I spend a lot of my time feeling like I'm behind where I should be, like I'm getting lapped by those who are accomplishing all the things I thought I would have by now. And in looking around me, I'm using valuable time and energy and resources that could instead be spent on pushing myself along.
My race is not dependent on theirs. My position doesn't have anything to do with theirs. My pace is my own, and I'm striving to be the best ME I can be, not the best I can be when compared to everyone else. May I, and may YOU, always remember that the head turn is where we lose the race.
Friday, November 1, 2019
Visual Proof of Life
I have two minutes left before the commitment I made to myself for November dies on the very first day of November. And that happening would completely sum up my 2019. But doggone, I'm not giving up on the first day of November. I may lose momentum on the third day or get weary on the fifth or quit on the eighth, but I'm pressing forward on this first day.
See, 2019 was supposed to be my year of writing. Not only have I not written with any sort of commitment level, but other than instagram captions and facebook posts, I haven't written AT ALL. I haven't been able to make myself. There are several (actually more than several) other areas of similar failures in this calendar year, but this blog isn't about those.
This blog is about the time I made myself do it. The time I pushed myself even when I didn't want to and literally had nothing to say. Because part of my promise to myself in November is that writing isn't all inspired. Sometimes it's just the self-discipline of it that matters, not the words you say. So today, for this first day, I'm just showing up. Nothing pretty, nothing inspirational, nothing vulnerable, nothing but some words on a post. Just visual proof of life... just a beginning. And today, that's what matters to me.
See, 2019 was supposed to be my year of writing. Not only have I not written with any sort of commitment level, but other than instagram captions and facebook posts, I haven't written AT ALL. I haven't been able to make myself. There are several (actually more than several) other areas of similar failures in this calendar year, but this blog isn't about those.
This blog is about the time I made myself do it. The time I pushed myself even when I didn't want to and literally had nothing to say. Because part of my promise to myself in November is that writing isn't all inspired. Sometimes it's just the self-discipline of it that matters, not the words you say. So today, for this first day, I'm just showing up. Nothing pretty, nothing inspirational, nothing vulnerable, nothing but some words on a post. Just visual proof of life... just a beginning. And today, that's what matters to me.
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