"The Thought for Today"

When right is wrong....and wrong is right--watch what becomes of our world.  Just watch.  Are you watching?

"On Hearing vs. Listening"

hear: v. To perceive sounds through the ear.
listen: v. To pay attention to a sound or speech.

There is hearing. And then there is listening.

Many years ago I was told, “Listening is an art.” Nodding my head in agreement, I smiled, feigning comprehension and understanding. In truth, as a talker, I had no idea what that meant. Since then I have learned not only the importance and value of listening, but how to listen.

Have you ever been in a conversation with someone and realized that what you were saying was of no concern to them? Perhaps you could sense the lack of interest as their eyes wandered. You may have noted their distraction and absence of focus as they waited--or may have even interrupted--to speak of the things that were important to them. They may have heard, but they did not listen. You had the choice to either enter into a verbal competition or turn silent. Then, as the exchange ended, you were left with the real sense that neither you nor what you had to say mattered.

When one is given a voice, one that is listened to, something inexplicably cathartic takes place within that person. This is particularly apparent when one is in a difficult situation or set of circumstances. Objectivity often takes place as personal details emerge; a new perspective may also come into play. Things don't seem as monumental, overwhelming, or consuming. They lose their sting.

 

Given the freedom to express yourself and to be heard is invaluable. Isn’t that what the mental health field with therapists, psychiatrists, and psychologists is all about? 

The art of listening isn't reserved exclusively for friends and family. Opportunities for listening abound and include encounters with all types of people in everyday life--at the grocery store, the gas station, or gym; at work and after work. In my experience these encounters are usually with individuals I don't know and will never see again

 

Very personal things may be shared, one stranger to another. It is important to respect these revelations with confidence, to "lock them up inside," as a friend says. Even though there isn't a personal relationship involved, a baring of the soul deserves respect. The need isn't for an answer or a solution; the need is to be heard and listened to.

How does one become a listener? I feel the basic, first step is that of setting self aside. If my main concern is about me, telling my story, my experiences, my thoughts and ideas, then I will never really listen. It takes a conscious effort at first to push self aside and just listen. Being patient is important as well. If I am rushed and in a hurry, the impatience shouts. The unspoken message I give is, "I don't have time for you."

Most people simply need a sounding board and don’t even realize it. The need to be listened to, regardless of age--from the youngest to the eldest--runs deep within humankind. It is a need for affirmation that "I am of worth. I matter."  

My challenge is this: If you aren't already a listener, try becoming one. Set self aside. I think you’ll be surprised at the effect it has on your own life. It certainly has the potential to make a difference in the lives of others.   

    

      

"It's Been a Good Day"

My eyelids were getting heavy as I sat, knitting in my rocking chair.  Knitting cotton dishcloths is something I’ve begun doing recently.  Instant gratification, they are easily finished in a short period of time, without much thought involved.  My mother taught me to knit as a little girl.  The first projects were cotton dishcloths, so in a sense I've gone back to where I began.

The only sounds were of the dryer and a soft whir of the heat pump, an occasional car driving by outside.  An attempt to call a niece had resulted in a message left on the answering machine so it was just me and the knitting.  Thoughts of my day rambled through my mind with no real connection or order.   

Earlier, coming into the house at the end of a workday, I heard myself say, “It’s been a good day.”  And now, as I knitted and rocked, I considered my day and the events of it. 

My day began by spending time at the piano, preparing for a recital.  I expect to play a composition titled Creation Sings, the work of a family member.  The music fills my being, and I had recorded it on my phone, listening to its beauty throughout the day.

On the way to a work project I had picked up a prescription for a client/friend.  As I stopped it by her home, we chatted and laughed.  She is an older person in years, yet young in spirit.  I like her a lot, and it is always a treat to be around her. 

Often when I make that assessment of a "good day," it pertains to the amount of work I have accomplished.  And on that one level, today was no different.  The home of one of my first clients in the area is being prepared for market.  The yard and garden needs to be made sale-ready, and so a chunk of the day was spent making that happen. Great progress had taken place as bags and bags of weeds and debris were removed, revealing rockwork and hidden flowering plants. 

A young man had been called in to help with the project.  It was hands-and-knees kind of work and conversation came easily.  The subject of God came up early in the day:  "It is my belief....; what do you think?  If I am to understand you....; I disagree with you on that point."   Ideas, thoughts, and beliefs were readily and easily exchanged.  In some areas our points of view are quite dissimilar and yet we shared and laughed, getting to know one another as people.

As we went our separate ways at the end of the workday I thanked him and told him how much I had appreciated our time in the garden.  "It is so nice meeting someone who is opinionated in their beliefs and convictions and yet open to listen," I was told.  "What is the opposite of that?" I asked.  "Obstinate," he said.

The day came to a close with a text from a grandgirl:  "When are you going to be home, Grandma?"  She wanted to talk on the phone, and we did.  Being told you are loved by a grandgirl makes any day a "good day."  Contact with two out-of-state friends and daughters only added to that appraisal. 

My days aren't  filled with extraordinary events.   "Exciting" is not a word one would apply to my life, and at this time of the year the days are usually filled with work and more work.  My life, however, is rich, filled with gifts of music, interactions with family and friends, laughter, and the knowledge that my day is planned and ordered.  This is not the first time I’ve told my Father “It has been a good day,” and I doubt it will be the last.

Life is good.

“This is the day that the Lord hath made; let us rejoice and be glad in it." 

"On Choices"

Time spent in my own garden is rare.  As a self-employed gardener, my clients’ gardens and their needs are always placed before my own.  At this time of the year the to-do list for them is staggering.  I put blinders on my eyes as I pull into my driveway.  It is that bad.    

I’m not sure how it happened that I arrived home at a decent hour today, but I did.  There was still plenty of daylight left and, after feeding myself, I had the energy to head outdoors.

The decision was made to work in the part of my backyard most visible from inside.  The weeds are thick so it was hands-and-knees kind of work, the kind that frees one’s mind for thought.

Recently I read a meme with the quote, “It costs $0.00 to be decent.”  While a true statement, it costs the same amount to be a jerk.  The difference between the two is the result of a choice made.

choice:  an option; a decision; an opportunity to choose or select something  

Choice is a part of everyday living—What am I going to eat; how do I dress; where do I go; what do I do; how do I get there and when?  As you consider it, choice is presented in a non-stop manner in daily life. 

In addition, society has made it a priority to make certain each and every person is satisfied, young and old alike. The list of choices seems endless when purchasing a car, carpeting, furniture, an appliance for the home, planning a vacation.  Mankind's narcissistic appetite for self-satisfaction seems to be driving this state.

There is a prevalent approach in dealing with children, allowing them to choose their food, their clothing, the activities of their lives.  Treating children as people is a positive; however,  I wonder if it doesn't become a bit overwhelming for a kid.  I know it can be for an adult.    

Consider, however, the choices made as to how one lives his/her life, not just the decisions affecting the physical, outer aspect of it.

As I dug through the weeds, I found myself thinking about how we choose the kind of people we want to be throughout our lives, beginning at an early age.  Sometimes they are conscious decisions, other times unconscious.  They often are a result of a personal experience in our lives, a choice made which places us on a path other than the one we had been on.

When I was a young girl, my older brother brought a typewriter into our home to work on a school project.  I vividly remember it sitting on the card table in the middle of the living room with instructions to not touch it.  It was the first time I had seen such a machine at close range, and my curiosity took over.  I couldn’t resist messing with it.  When questioned, I denied my actions.  The lie felt worse than the disobedience, and the seed of truth and honesty was planted within and began to grow.

Children can be cruel, ridiculing and making fun of one another.  For the child on the receiving end of such treatment, a choice is often made—to never treat others in that same manner or to “get ‘em before they get you.”  I know one young woman whose mantra is “Do unto others as you’d have others do unto you,” the result of being treated badly not only by peers but an adult teacher as well.  Besides being the foundation of how she lives her life, it is what she teaches her children as well.  It is a choice she made. 

I choose if I am going to be kind or unkind; forgiving instead of bitter, spiteful, vindictive; loving and compassionate rather than hateful and distant or antagonistic; cooperative and humble instead of proud and boastful; generous rather than selfish and self-serving; decent rather than a jerk.  I could go on and on.  How I live my life, the kind of person I choose to be is in my lap, in my mirror.  That never falls on another person’s doorstep.

Free will and free choice is a provision given to man by his Creator.  Use it carefully and wisely, not only in determining allegiance to Him—or not—but in living life.  Choices matter. 

"If you are not willing to serve Him, then choose today who you will serve.  As for me and my family, we will serve the Eternal."

    

  

"A Thought For The Day"

A news story was released about a company which is forbidding the use of the name Christ or Jesus on their gift cards.  Many of those who are of the Christian faith are in an uproar.  The whole scenario has been rolling around in my mind, and this is where I landed.:

God does not live by the rule or law of man; man does live by the rule and law of God.  

This fact is not contingent upon one's belief or disbelief of it.  As is so commonly expressed, "It is what it is."

He cannot be contained; He cannot be controlled; He cannot be disallowed or eliminated.  No rule or law of man touches Him; nor will it bring about His extinction. 

Is man able to contain the wind, the sea, the shifting of the plates of the earth?  Can man control the weather, the cycle of seasons, the stars and planets in the heavens?  Can he stop the rotation of the earth or the force of gravity?  And that is only creation, not the Creator Himself. 

There is a movement underway, visible in other parts of the world and spilling over to our homeland, to eliminate faith and those of faith.  The response and reaction is often near hysteria and panic, as many try to come up with a solution to counter these atrocities. But I would suggest taking a step back and giving it some thought--This is God who is being taken on.  Who has ever done that and come out the victor?

So let the world create their bans, pass their rules of forbidden words, and make as many laws as possible to eliminate God from existence.  I seriously doubt He feels threatened.  

All He has ever asked is that we stand--just stand.   

For those who would say, "Yes, but for any of this to apply one has to believe there is a God, and I don't," you are placing me in a position where I am forced to say it:  "The fool has said in his heart 'There is no God.'" 

And there you have it--my thought for the day.  Or make that thoughts. 

"On Barry: Dignity and Grace in Hardship"

While mowing yesterday, the wheel fell off my lawnmower, and I found myself heading for the equipment place I frequent. My hope was to have the mower back in working order as quickly as possible in order to keep up with the jungle-like growth habit of lawns so prevalent in early Spring.  I’m on a first-name basis with my equipment people.  You can draw your own conclusions, and they would be accurate.

That is where I met Barry.  And that is where I was given a lesson in dignity and grace in hardship.

dignity:  a quality or state worthy of esteem and respect
grace:  a pleasing or attractive quality

I pulled into the parking lot and went inside with the wheel.  Within minutes I was returning to the truck where the mower was, along with a mechanic and his tools, a replacement wheel in hand. I noticed a van had pulled up alongside.  A gentleman had got out and, using a cane, was heading toward the back to unload a wheeled apparatus with which to navigate.  Each and every step was noticeably arduous and challenging.  The mechanic offered help in retrieving the walker, and it was graciously accepted.

The repair work was quickly completed in the parking lot, an "Urgent Care" visit of sorts and, as I went in to pay, I noted the gentleman had finished his business and was heading toward the door.  People deal with hardship in a variety of ways.  Some wear the mantle of their lot in life with flashing neon lights for all to see, drawing attention and evoking pity and sympathy.  Not so here.  It was evident there was no self-pity, no anger, no bitterness.  He plodded along, carefully calculating each step and the placement of his feet, a smile on his face as he chatted.  He said he was heading to Wal-Mart next.  I found myself admiring his resolve, as I am not a Wal-Mart shopper under the best of circumstances.

There is a fine line in offering help to people, regardless of the situation.  It needs to be real, genuine, honest, and natural rather than condescending and gratuitous.  When I asked if I could open the door for him, he smiled  and thanked me.  It’s a heavy door which needs to be pulled to open, and it seemed an obvious offer.   

As he got to his van and the walker was placed in the back, we exchanged names.  He shared that he had been frequenting this place of business since his son was a young boy and came in to buy parts for his go-cart.  “And he’s 40 years old now.”  I agreed with him--the owners are good people.

Barry—such a gentleman.  I have no idea what he is dealing with, but his attitude and demeanor made an impression on me.  What awaits me in the days to come is an unknown, but I hope I have the same dignity and grace as Barry if I am placed in a difficult set of circumstances.  He certainly presented a worthy example--and I doubt he's even aware.

"On a Movie: The Life and Death of Christ"

Last evening, at the end of an Easter day, I watched a movie on the life and death of Christ.  It was a presentation of historical facts, based on the political and religious climate of the time--no Biblical reference, no sermon or message, no preaching.     

This was not a film I have been able to walk away from.  There is something to be said about the seeing of things and not just the hearing.  It's that "One picture is worth a thousand words" thing. 

There were times I had to pause it--the scenes were intense and emotional.  A great deal of it was observed with hands over eyes, peeking through fingers--that's how I've always viewed difficult movie or television scenes, although as a small child, it was with a blanket over my head, peering through a small hole.  It was a profound, moving experience to be given a small sense of how one man lived His life.

Hoping to snuff out the life of the yet unknown infant Messiah, the horror depicted was stark as King Herod's orders were carried out, and all little boys under the age of 3 were killed. The cries of mourning mothers and fathers affected must have been as a single voice broadcast throughout the land.  This, because Herod was afraid he was going to be replaced by a new king.  He had calculated the time of His birth, coinciding with the visit from the Three Magi, who had seen signs in the sky indicating the Messiah had arrived.  What he didn't realize was the young boy had been moved out of the country to safety and was untouched. 

The childhood upbringing of Christ was very ordinary, growing up in a family with siblings and all the experiences of a boy, son, brother.  The son of a carpenter, He lived His adult life as any other man. 

He was, however, on a path that was not of His choosing, and there was that step into the final phase of His life where He served, ministered, loved, healed, taught.  Crowds followed wherever He went, trying to touch a piece of His clothing, bringing loved ones to be healed or for deliverance from demons, listening as He spoke.

He challenged the religious norm of that time, making enemies in that camp as well and ended up being feared and hated by both the religious and the political for very different yet very real reasons.

And then He died.  He had been delivered to those who feared Him by one of His own, one who had walked with Him and knew Him--for 30 pieces of silver.  The "trial," which came from both the religious and the political at that time, brought with it the sentence of death. Those whom He came to minister to turned on Him; He was mocked and tortured.  He had to have been near death before He was ever crucified.  The portrayal of the sounds and cries of agony as His limbs were nailed to wood was gut-wrenching. 

He was just a man; there was nothing magical about Him.  How could one ordinary person be so extraordinary?  That is the profound simplicity and paradox of the life and death of Christ.  He was never "just" a man, and yet that is what He became--a man, clothed in the fullness of, and every aspect of, humanity.  

In living that life He lived it in relationship with the Father.  In living that life, Christ fulfilled the will of His Father, and in His resurrection, death was defeated.  

He lived and died--so that mankind might have the gift of life as well.