A reminder for Friday-I've moved!

OK-just one more reminder that I have moved. Please bookmark me at my new home here, and share in my stories there.
Remember to re-subscribe when you get there as well. Thanks for stopping by!

We've moved!

Hello, dear readers. It was time for a updated look and a fresh perspective!

I have moved to the new home of Too Darn Happy, which you can find here. Please take note of my new location, as I won't be updating here anymore.

When you get there, please bookmark, and re-subscribe either by RSS feed or by email. Thanks so much, and look forward to seeing you soon!

PS-If you have any trouble with the link, I can be found at www.toodarnhappy.com

It's Monday-Aaaaaah! Where's my margin?

Monday morning.

The race is on again for a new week, and you and your mind are running at top speed, full out, and it's not even 9:00am yet.

Hubbie. House. Job. Laundry. Clean clothes. Ironed clothes.  Lunches.

Kids. Backpacks. Missing homework. Missing sports equipment.

Get in the car. Let's GO. We're going to be LATE.

Missing me.

Missing time.

Missing breathing room.

STOP.

Slow down for just a moment and take a deep breath.

Just. Stop. Being the "good mom", the "perfect mom" the "can do it all mom", the "I must or my husband won't be considered for his promotion mom",  or the "I must or my kids will miss out and be left behind/not get into the right college mom".

Whew.

What is the solution?

You need to build margin into your life.

I learned this term recently from Andy Stanley, through his  study "Take it to the limit-How to get the most out of life".

The description of the study notes,

Overloaded? Maxed out? Our culture encourages us to live as if we have no limits. So we fill up our schedules and empty our bank accounts. We do as much as we can, spend as much as we can, and acquire as much as we can - all in an effort to get as much as we can out of life.

Might I say "whew" again!

Having margin means that you walk yourself permanently back from the precipice so that when there are emergencies, you will not be shoved hard and fast over the edge.

So. What does having margin in your life look like, and how do you get there?

Some suggestions to consider:
Get up just five or ten minutes earlier, so there is no mad last minute rush to get out the door.

Do some meal preparation/grocery shopping over the weekend and/or the night before so that lunches and dinners are not held regularly at the exclusive drive-through of Chez McD's.

Teach the kids to prepare their clothes/school needs the night before, allowing for a more relaxed morning. (And moms -yes, your children can and need to be taught how to use a washer and dryer. It is not capital punishment. What is cruel is being almost of legal age, and not recognizing what a washer is, let alone how to use it. See here for a how-to for every age.)

Take the time to do one little something the night before, like fill the car with gas or put your keys with your purse to save time and sanity in the morning.

Put a whiteboard on the fridge with weekly events/times/places you need to be at and things everyone needs to have ready for each day. Make it a habit to check it daily for the next day or two to avoid surprises-"Mom! I told you I needed _____ for the school event. Mom!!-said in a plaintive, wailing, accusing voice.

These are just a few ideas to get you rolling. Take a look at the areas that cause you frustration, and think about how you could change something that would help you avoid or eliminate that item and create some breathing room-margin-in your life.

Remember to point out the benefits to your family, and how the change will bring something better than what you have now.

Be patient. This can take a little time, depending on how each member handles change.

I strongly encourage you to build margin into your life starting today. Won't it be nice to breathe a little easier tomorrow?

Share with us your ideas for creating margin in all areas of your life.

PS-I had to create margin this morning, and had to let go of putting an image with this post. Be dressed for work, eat breakfast and pack lunch, or spend time on an image? Sorry, dear readers. My margin won out. No image today.

Five Minute Friday: Backwards

Thanks for stopping by and joining in the Friday fun!

Gypsy Mama writes: I remember how powerful the written word is. To encourage, to laugh, to cheer, to pray, to listen, and love. Sometimes all it takes is five minutes.
Five minutes to just write, and not worry if it’s just right or not.
Kind of like how friendship should be.
Got five minutes? Here’s a great way to spend them, and here's the rules.

1. Write for 5 minutes flat for pure unedited love of the written word.

2. Link back to her site and invite others to join in.

3. Get a little crazy with encouragement for the five minuter who linked up before you.

So, let's write! Here is my offering today:

Five Minute Friday-Backwards

Self! Self!

My mom tells me that those were words that I used to use when I was a toddler, apparently loudly and often. She would grow frustrated sometimes, not surprisingly, at my insistence on doing everything myself, at the speed and quality of a 3 year old.

I am surprised she and dad never left me behind when they took all seven of us kids shopping.

Wait a minute, there was that time when they inadvertently left without me, they said....

Self! Self!

Why is it I am still crying out those words today as an adult? 

Why am I doing my life backwards, and wondering why plans don't come together the way I want?

Perhaps because when I pray, I talk, and talk, and talk, and ask, but often forget to LISTEN. I know that God is amazing, and if I will just slow down and LISTEN, he will guide me where he wants to take me. He has packed my luggage with incredible gifts, and he wants me to take an amazing journey, but I have to LISTEN to figure out the details.

Perhaps it is time to start moving forwards, in faith, rather than just by myself. After all, as Jeremiah 29:11 states:

For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the LORD, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.  (NIV)

I just have to be patient and put my inner toddler into timeout while I take time to just breathe, let go and listen.

*End Time*

-Editorial Note: The beginning of the post is copied from a word doc that I keep handy. As it is just general background and information on Five Minute Fridays, especially for folks who are landing here for the first time, I don't count it in my five minutes...

If this message really hits you in your heart, I invite you to read these other related posts for inspiration:

Where are you and where are you supposed to be?
Sailing away from the Island of Settle
Where's my ticket, Lord, and whose luggage is this?

Failing, quitting and winning

As moms, we very often work so hard living up to unrealistic images of perfection from society, our families, our mothers and our own personal DNA. We buy into the culture of being a supermom, even if it just about kills us in the process.

There are many diktats you hear every day, but the most powerful ones run ruthlessly through your head and start like this:

I must…
I have to…
I promised…
I can’t just quit…
What would she/he/everyone think…

Can you feel the pressure build? Can you feel the stress taking hold of your body and stretching it until you feel like a rubber band ready to snap?

STOP.

Just. Stop.

When I was pregnant with our first daughter, we had a birthing coach who was very helpful, especially in terms of helping us understand there were certain expectations we needed to meet if we really wanted to be "good parents".

We should have a natural birth, ie, no drugs, no anesthetics.
We should feed our baby naturally, ie, no formula.

It all sounded great to us, after all, we wanted to be the best for our very first child.

Fast forward to the unexpected difficulties I experienced going into labor four weeks early, and to the pain I had not imagined, and the wrapping of my fingers so tightly around the metal bed frame that I was sure I bending it with my bare hands…

I cried uncle.
I quit being a good mom, and begged for drugs.

 Unfortunately, the doctors said I was too far along, and would have to do without the anesthetic. I did, and-whew!-was “saved” from my weakness. I would be able to hold my head high and proud, and say I did it. Yeah.

Fast forward again, to a week later, when we took our precious bundle home from the hospital. Yes, a whole week later. She was tiny and adorable, and had some minor health issues, including some difficulty with feeding.

Once out of the cocoon of the maternity ward, we realized our newborn was still not strong enough to breastfeed, so we created a Plan B. About every three hours a hungry Alexis would awaken. I would feed her the milk I had pumped, rock her, change her and get her back to sleep. Then I would pump for next time.

Whew. System created. Failure averted. Again. I even felt a little more awesome than before. Hoo-ah. Hand me that big glittery “S” so I can sew it on. One handed. ‘Cuz I am a stupendous mom.

As you can imagine, functioning on less than two hours of sleep at a time quickly began to fray my supercape and my patience. I soldiered on, though. What other choice did I have if I wanted to be the good parent?

This went on for maybe a couple of weeks, but only my husband saw the beginning of the cracks in my veneer as my tears started to seep through. I was holding my mask on as tightly as I could, but it wasn’t enough.

Keith’s mom called and invited Alexis and me over for a visit, saying that it would be good for us to get out of the house. We went, and I remember feeling so warmly welcomed as she ushered me into a rocker. She gently questioned how things were going, and before I knew it I dropped all pretense of holding it together, as I sobbed and poured out my story of being such a failure.

A failure because I didn’t want to keep pumping and feeding and not sleeping. A failure because I felt selfish. A failure because I felt I was letting my daughter down. A failure because all the other moms could do it so easily, and maybe I just wasn’t working at it hard enough.

If memory serves, I soon learned that my dear mother in law had switched to formula very early on with each of the children, and as she pointed out, they had all turned out just fine. She encouraged me to do what worked for us and for Alexis, and to ignore what anyone else thought, since they weren’t standing where we were.

That very day, I gave up the breastfeeding.

I. Quit.

Our dear daughter and my husband got their more, sort of normal me back. We all won.

I share this story with you as a reminder that you must do what works for you and your family.

For you. For your family. Not for the Smith’s down the street, or the Adams or the Taylors or anyone else. Sometimes you just have to draw your line in the sand, and refuse to go beyond it.

You just might have to quit to win. It will be ok. You will survive, and your life will be better for it.

Now, take that cape off and put it in the kids toybox where it belongs. You looked kind of silly in it anyway.

Have you quit something that is a bad fit for you and/or your family? Share with us what you did.

Five minute Friday-Every Day...

Today is Five Minute Friday, with a nod to The Gypsy Mama, and here what she has to say today:

That’s what we do around here on Fridays. We eat words. Straight up. Without second guessing, editing, or critisizing them. We simply savor all their deliciousness. For a full five minutes. You should try it. It’s a calorie-rich experience sans calories.

Wanna just write? Without wondering if it’s just right?

Indulge in five rich, delicious minutes of pure writing.
Tell your readers you’re linking up here and invite them to dig in too.
And most importantly, go visit, read, and compliment the five minute chef who served something up right before you.
Easy peasy.

 So let's get to it!

Every Day...
If we are not careful, every day can just blend into another boring, meaningless twenty-four hours, but Friday…

Friday glides up to my morning window like a car hop from the old-fashioned drive-in, full of sunny smiles and holding a menu that offers mouth-watering goodness.

“Hello, ma’am. How would you like your day today?” she asks with a lilting voice. “Would you prefer a mug of sparkling frosty root beer with that soft foam on top that melts in your mouth, or would you prefer a triple scoop mega chocolate ice cream sundae with fudge sauce and whipped cream?”

Oooh. Tough choice.

However, no matter what I order, there are occasions that I don’t receive quite what I requested. Some days, my root beer is more flat than bubbly, and my ice cream tastes more like “too long in the freezer” than supremely decadent chocolate.

And actually, that is ok. It is those times where I am challenged to appreciate my day, when I don’t necessarily get what I asked for, that invite me to look for the blessings in my life.

It reminds me that with a shift in perspective, sometimes accompanied with a grinding of gears, I can see clearly...

That life is good.

Everyday.

Besides, the next time the waitress brings my sweet treat, I will be so very grateful, and savor each and every bit.  Mmmmmm….

A disclaimer: I broke the rules. I took more than 5 minutes. I edited. I ask forgiveness. And for chocolate.

What do I do that shows you I love you?

Have you ever experienced a point in your marriage where you get into an apocalyptic battle a civil discussion with your spouse about how you are being treated like a slave are not feeling appreciated?

How did that work for you? Did you gain insight and perspective, or did one or both of you just ultimately walk away from the conversation with more hurt feelings and without any real resolution?

Some time ago my hubbie and I learned a better way to handle these situations, and it usually results in an amicable and interesting discussion, along with a deeper understanding of ourselves and an improvement in our relationship.

I offer it to you, dear readers, to use as well. It is a very simple question, and it is phrased like this: “What do I do that shows you I love you?”

This can be asked in a quiet moment, prefaced by something like “I’m curious. I’ve been thinking about the things that I do or could do that show you I love you, and I wonder if you could share with me something I do that shows you I love you.

Be prepared, ladies. Ask this question with no preconceptions about how your man will answer. He is probably not going to say that he feels extra, extra special when you nag him endlessly to take out the trash, and he may not answer with the ONE THING that you are sure makes his heart sing. This is NOT your cue to pounce on him like a tiger on wounded prey because he didn’t mention the hours you slave over his lunches/laundry/etc. The whole purpose of this is to get HIS point of view, what it is that really makes him feel respected and loved. (I mention respect, because with men that is usually inextricably tied to how deeply they feel loved. If there is a lack of respect, oftentimes it means they do not feel as important to you or as loved by you.)

He may need some time to think about this, especially if he feels that you really aren’t looking for his answer, if he believes he just needs to figure out the “right” answer. If he has felt ambushed in the past, he will be a very hesitant participant. After all, he has learned there is a very fine line between his beloved being happy as opposed to being a harpy.

Take the opportunity to share with him as well. Let him know something he does that shows you he loves you.  Remember ladies: it is what we pay attention to in our relationships that grows. Focus on the positive aspects of the incredibly special man that your husband is, and you will be delighted by the results.

Help, help! My thoughts are getting away...

My thoughts have gone downriver again, unencumbered by any sort of tether. You see, sometimes when I am just beginning to wake up, and am in that space between deep sleep and full consciousness, my thoughts take shape lazily-as though they are just outside of myself-and form much like an eddy in a stream. I marvel at how brightly they sparkle, as the sun reflects off all the wonderfully and finely crafted points. If I don’t reach out my hand to gently scoop them out of the water right at that moment, they will float gently onward, twirling and swirling away, gradually breaking up into much smaller bits, until finally, that crystallized thought is no more.

*****************

Have you ever experienced that moment of clarity when you suddenly have the answer to a problem you have been seeking or an idea for the best gift, blog post, letter or whatever has been on your mind?

Perhaps your experience is more like the example above, where your thoughts form gently in the morning as you awaken, without the aid of an alarm or a child poking you in your ear and your cheek and your shoulder, whispering loudly, “Mommy! Mommy! Are you awake?”

Wait, just wait, dear readers. I have a message for those of you with youngsters still in the house: I can hear you guffawing in disbelief that you will actually enjoy the experience of an uninterrupted thought one day. Keep the faith. You will.

More likely, when you have your epiphany, you are busy putting away groceries, separating argumentative siblings, or making plans for a “Calgon take me away” tubbie that does not include the children.

There are some simple solutions for you to hold onto those thoughts and ideas that don’t involve the use of lipstick and the forearm of the child standing closest to you.

A low-tech idea is to keep a small notebook and pen handy wherever you are, or keep several, such as one in your purse, in the kitchen, in the bathroom and on your nightstand. These will be a blessing for capturing those stray thoughts that are as important to tame as your morning bed hair. Just make a point of gathering those notes regularly wherever they will be meaningful for you.

Another handy way to gather the ideas is to purchase a small voice recorder, and keep it with you. Just record your thoughts, grocery items, etc, and then later gather them as noted above.

A simple, all-inclusive system is to use your mobile device, such as a smartphone, into which you can download an application for information gathering. Evernote is a slick software that will save notes, images, websites, and will also allow for voice recorded files. It is a very powerful way to save information, and it also allows for easy retrieval via a well-designed search function. Their site is loaded with great tutorials as well as stories from users who explain what they enjoy about Evernote, including how they use it to shop to how it helps them remember where they parked.

Although I am a chronic pen and paper list-maker (notepads in many places), I do use Evernote on my Mac and love how it keeps such a variety of information so incredibly handy. I highly recommend it.

So, there you have it. Different solutions to the age-old problem of “Oh, bother! What was that good idea I just had?”.

Simplify your life by putting one of these ideas into practice today, and enjoy the fruits of more organized living.

Share in the comments what methods or tools you use to keep your thoughts organized and handily available.

Five minute Friday-On forgetting

Every Friday The Gypsy Mama gives a prompt and you are supposed to write about it in 5 minutes.


She says: I remember how powerful the written word is. To encourage, to laugh, to cheer, to pray, to listen, and love. Sometimes all it takes is five minutes. Five minutes to just write, and not worry if it’s just right or not.
Kind of like how friendship should be.
Got five minutes? Join us, and share what you have to say as well, whether in the comments or in your own blog.

Let's begin!

On forgetting...

The month of May has turned into the month of May-be: May-be the rain will stop, May-be we will have a sunny day again, May-be the difficulties and problems in my life will all magically iron themselves out.

Whatever my circumstances, wherever I am, however, I must not forget that I must, as 2 Corinthians 5:7 tells me, to “live by faith, not by sight”.

God has equipped me in wonderful ways for a marvelous purpose in this life, and much like a saw or a chisel, sometimes I need to be sharpened to be at my best. He will never give me more than I can bear and is always there for me.

It is I who sometimes wanders off the path, and wonders why He has forsaken me, or why He is challenging me so.

Then I remember, that I am the one who left, that I am imperfect, and that I am a work in progress, that I am only human, after all, and sometimes that can be both a painful and wonderfully fruitful process.

I just have to remember to keep the faith.

Morning in the Garden

 Just an additional note here: The dark, wet weather of the last couple of weeks has abated for now, so I joyfully took the opportunity to sit on my front steps this morning to pray. I shot the image above of the view from my porch to share with you. I was reminded that without the rain-and the loving, tending hand of my mom-this garden would not be the absolutely gorgeous space that it is.

Did she just say what I think I heard?

There is always a lot of laughter in our house, as everyone shares a delightful, often offbeat, sense of humor.

I can say that I have my own special kind of contribution, although often unintentional, always spontaneous, that my family has nicknamed “Kimisms”.

You see, once in a while my command of the English language becomes, well, less than commanding, and the unusual mix of words and phrases brings on plenty of laughter.

Allow me to share my latest example with you…

My parents, my husband, my older brother and I were enjoying dinner together this past weekend when the conversation turned to the widely publicized dire prediction that the world would end that very evening.

I asked if anyone had seen our niece’s Facebook post in which Chelsea had commented-tongue firmly in cheek-that she and a friend were going to be getting their hibachi fix before the world ended.

Now, that may seem like a simple statement to repeat, but here is where the conversation quickly went south. I couldn’t pull the word “hibachi” out of my mental file drawer. For some reason, the only word that came up was brazier, which is pretty much the same thing as a hibachi.

What I thought I said was that Chelsea was going to be getting out her brazier for a last barbeque. However, that cooking implement is pronounced “brey zher”, with the emphasis on the first syllable. What actually came out of my mouth was that Chelsea was going to be getting out her “bruh zeer” (emphasis on the last syllable) for a final barbeque. Yes, I said that my niece was going to get out a brassiere to cook her last meal.

Well, you can imagine what ensued: looks of puzzlement, corners of mouths trying to stave off the beginnings of giggles, eyes looking to one another to confirm if they had heard what they think they heard, and then the dam broke. Everyone at the table dissolved into side-splitting, tear-inducing laughter they were so greatly amused. I, too, joined in, once they pointed out to me what I had actually said.

You have to admit, the mental image of grilling over a charcoal filled “bruh zeer” is pretty darn funny.

So, dear readers, I invite you to laugh with-and at-me this morning, and remember to take yourselves lightly today.

It's Monday-Woohoo!

Ocean Sunrise © K. Hall

I will shout with joy this morning-Woohoo, it’s Monday!

So many possibilities, a fresh new week in which to discover new strengths, acquire deeper wisdom, accomplish written goals, laugh more often and love more deeply.

That’s what Monday and every other day of the week is for.

Every sunrise is a fresh start, an opportunity to begin again, to right wrongs, ask forgiveness and extend grace with faith, moment by moment, to each person you encounter today, especially yourself.

Remember, it’s not about what gets in your way or who gets in your face or under your skin, it’s about how you choose to respond each time that will bring you to a more joyful, satisfying place, where the sky is bluer, air is clearer, and yes, the ocean is warmer.

Come on in, the water’s fine!

Tell me how you will view your day through a different perspective today.

Who knew...about Dayspring?

Who Knew Wordle © K. Hall

Today I am introducing a new feature that will appear randomly as I discover new and interesting resources, ideas and things that I think may be useful to you, dear readers.

So, welcome to the premier post of "Who knew?"!

Who knew that Hallmark has a Christian division called Dayspring whose mission is to “connect people with the heart of God through messages of hope and encouragement”?

They have lots of beautiful cards and gifts for the loved ones in your lives, or even for yourself. You can shop at their store, not just for the cards, but also for journals, books, art, decor, and graduation and Father's Day gifts, and much, much more, including a sales and clearance area.

Use the link below to click on over, and at least check them out, even if you are not in the market for anything right now. At the very least, take a few moments to send a free e-card-Yes, I said FREE-to someone that needs to hear an encouraging word today.

Who knew? Now you do.

Five minute Friday-When seasons change...

 Every Friday The Gypsy Mama gives a prompt and you are supposed to write about it in 5 minutes.  Only 5 minutes!  Also, no edits!  Just write.  So here goes . . .

When seasons change...

When seasons change, we are given a glorious opportunity to experience something new, to revel in everything that is a part of that new time.

Often, however, we choose to grumble, to be angry, to be hurt that this change has been thrust upon us without our consent.

We turn 30, or 40, or 50, and fret that we no longer have the shape we had when we were younger.

Our faces show lines, and-gasp!-wrinkles, and we are horrified at how we look, and wonder if our husbands will still love us.

Rather than being joyful at the possibilities available to us with each age, we look back with regret at the woman we thought was the best we could be.

Delight in each season, and focus on what is most important.

Enjoy your children while they are young, and embrace their energy and curiosity, even if you are still carrying that extra “baby weight”.

Love your teens, especially if you don’t like them all the time, even if you have dark circles under your eyes from lack of sleep and worry.

Like yourself for who you are, for that wise woman you have become, for all that you have accomplished, for all the challenges you have faced, for all the growing you have done, for the aging that has created the fine vintage that you are.

Disclaimer-I took about 15 minutes to write today. Just was really slow coming to me this morning!

Extending grace

Pussy willow © K. Hall

We are so blessed to have some pretty exciting things going on with our family at this time, and recently I was up way, way past my bedtime chatting with one of my daughters about this happenings. When I finally went to bed, I laid awake, just so supercharged about the positive turns and tremendous possibilities that have presented themselves in all of our lives.

Morning came at its regular time, however, and I found myself facing the day with minimal rest. I realized I had a choice about how to conduct myself, and so when I prayed, I asked to be absolutely overflowing with grace. As I noted in an earlier post, I do this daily, but today it was especially important, as I felt my well of tolerance was as shallow as my sleep had been.

That prayer was answered for me so incredibly abundantly, and grace was extended to me, as it always is, in spite of all of my faults and shortcomings. I sailed through my day, with true joy, effortlessly sharing and extending that grace to everyone who crossed my path.

You see, what I realized is that it is when we are feeling at our lowest and are more inclined to be hurtful in our behavior is the very time that we need to request and extend grace for ourselves and to others.

How will you choose to spend your day today, and where will you share and extend your grace?

Telling Miss Jealousy goodbye

Rainy Day © K. Hall

Jealousy. Such an ugly, unnecessary, counterproductive emotion that pushes us to behave in such foolish and hurtful ways.

I always imagine that She (yes, I see jealousy as a “she”) is standing behind me, poking me in the back, egging me on to do and say stupid things, while whispering in my ear, “Oh, yeah? You going to let her get away with that? She thinks she’s better than you. Look at how she’s turning the bosses head, taking your credit, stealing your friends.” Sometimes, it’s more like kicking me when I’m down, when Jealousy says, “Oh, of course he got the job/has the friends/can accomplish that task in a far better way than you could ever hope for. After all, you are lacking. There is just so much that you don’t have going for you. Let's count all the ways in which you just don't measure up.

Ouch.

Yes, Miss Jealousy is a nasty piece of work indeed, and I have fought against her often, and lost more times than I care to admit, as I allow her to rain all over my parade. Recently, though, I had an insight that has allowed me to not even feel or hear many of her taunts, and I want to share it with you in the hopes that you can benefit as I did.

First, every day I pray, among many other things to be full of grace for myself and others, and I also pray for the words from my tongue to be kind and thoughtful. I highly recommend prayer to everyone, even if and especially if you think God certainly wouldn't listen to little old you.

I have been doing a lot of reading lately-positive, uplifting books-and one of my most recent is Max Lucado's "Cure for the Common Life", in which he talks about living in our sweet spot, living the lives for which God designed us. I wrote a post in response to my reading, entitled, “Where’s my ticket, Lord, and whose luggage is this?”, if you'd like to learn about finding your sweet spot in life.

As I reflected later on this same book, I realized that I believe that we covet what others have or are jealous because we are not seeing the gifts God has given us. Instead, we are paying too much attention to the gifts he gave to others.

It is truly that simple. 

Remember Christmas Day when we were young children, and how much attention we paid to what all our siblings got, and we went into private or public accounting of how much more everybody else got, and how they all got much more of what they wanted? Oh, yeah. those embarrassing memories can provide such great teachable moments for us.

To give you an actual current example, I have to admit that I had always been envious of certain traits that my husband possesses, and thought that if I could be more like him, then I would be....happier, be more productive at work, etc.

After I read Lucado's book, though, it hit me like a freight train. God didn't gift me with those traits because they weren't necessary for what he designed me to do.

He packed my bags. For me.

Just. For. Me.

It took my breath and my jealousy away.

Today, I am just grateful for, not envious of, my dear hubbie’s ability to streamline a process like nobody’s business, and to be incredibly creatively efficient and organized at anything he tackles. His skills complement mine, and are part of what I love about him.

I have not completely shut Miss Jealousy out of my life, and I still have to work at ignoring her any time that I realize I am going green-eyed over something or someone. However, that awareness of my own special gifts, of the skills that I share that I just can't not do, keep me more grounded these days.

Baby steps, baby steps, every day, and I have to remember to extend the same grace and forgiveness to myself that I extend to others.

What have you been jealous of that you can finally let go of today?

Start your Monday with some laughter

I am a huge proponent of joy and laughter, as you might have guessed. I came across this video through my mom (thanks, mom!), and thought my readers would enjoy starting their week and their day with a laugh. After all, who can resist a talking dog?

Just a couple of notes: While this video is family friendly, I cannot vouch for any of the others in the series. Also,  sorry to say that I don't have anything to do with those annoying ads that cover the bottom of the video, and I can't shut them off for you. You can shut them off by clicking on the small "x" in the right hand corner of the ad, though.

Five minute Friday-Deep breath...

Every Friday The Gypsy Mama gives a prompt and you are supposed to write about it in 5 minutes.  Only 5 minutes!  Also, no edits!  Just write.  So here goes . . .


 Deep Breath...

I take a deep breath, knowing I draw in patience at the same time. Patience to deal with the challenges of the day ahead.

Deep breath to be calm in the face of an angry customer.

Deep breath. To remind myself that underneath anger, always underneath anger, is fear.

Deep breath, knowing that if I can gather patience, and find a sense of calm, I can be helpful, and maybe I can help address or assuage the fear.

What are they carrying today, that they bring with themselves to my window?

Shallow quick breaths of grief, of a family member who doesn’t have much longer on this earth?

Shallow quick breaths of worry, of wondering how they will pay their bills?

Breathe deep, jump in to the waters of the day, and spread calm and grace. That is what I strive for every day.

Never alone

Sunlight through clouds © K. Hall

Ever have one of those weeks where everyone and everything seems to be against you, where it feels like all the lights just go out and you are just left to fend for yourself? The refrigerator stops working, your kids are all mad at you-again, and you are sure your friends and co-workers are all conspiring against you?

I was driving to work a while ago in the midst of one of those periods, and the morning was very gray, cold and cloudy. It reminded me of recent days, when my life just hadn’t gone smoothly at all. I was feeling weak, downcast, and dark. And alone.

Since having a very sunny disposition is my normal state, but knowing deep down that I was just indulging in my own private pity party, I quickly added guilt to my growing stack of negativity. After all, what good is a tall tower of pessimism without a generous topping of guilt?

Knowing intellectually that I had lots to feel good about and much more for which to be grateful was all well and fine, but finding my way back there emotionally was another thing entirely.

Because my resources in the car were limited, I reached for the first thing I could lay my hands on: my ipod. I plugged it in to the dash, turned it on, and put it on shuffle mode.

 “Never Alone”, by Barlow Girl, poured out of my speakers, and tears of gratitude slid down my face.

I had let my sour, sullen skyscraper throw a huge shadow over my inner light, and make me believe that I had shut it off. In fact, I realized that the light is not mine to extinguish, as it is the light of God, shining through me, showing the way, providing warmth and grace and forgiveness to me, no matter where I am, no matter if I am behaving well or not, no matter if I feel worthy of His grace.

Are you are feeling alone or thinking that your world has gone dark?

I lovingly invite you to open the door to God’s light within and bask in His love, for you really are never alone, even if you have never known a relationship with Him.

Keep the faith

Keep the faith Wordle © K. Hall

When our children are babies, we are just so excited for that day when they can actually talk. That first spoken word: “mama”, “dada”, or even “no”,  just brings us so much joy!

Fast forward a few short years, and for the first time, we hear our beloved toddler repeat our words. Not necessarily the good ones. We wince, embarrassed for ourselves and our child. Yikes! Who knew they were actually listening?

Fast forward to the teen years, and many of us would prefer often times to have silence as opposed to the sometimes crabby or mumbled language that passes for conversation with our kids.

We wonder if they are paying attention to all the lessons we teach. We wonder if they are watching the respectful manner with which we treat others. We wonder if they are getting the message of anything good at all, and we despair sometimes at feeling successful as parents.

And then, it happens.

It’s sort of like those toddler moments, because they are repeating what they have heard from us, only this time in an absolutely delightful way.

They might comfort a friend using kind words that mimic ours, stand up for themselves using assertive phrases they learned from us, or use empowering language that you had no idea they knew how to use.

For instance, this morning our daughter (who hated school, by the way), was regaling me with a story of a playful conversational exchange she held with a older coworker who is a voracious reader, and her portion went something like this:

I am being enervated by the listlessly loquacious today, and find myself in a perpetual state of ennui.

Who knew she knew such wonderfully descriptive language, and where is my dictionary so I can be sure of what she said?

Keep the faith. I know I keep saying that, and some of you are so deep into the very difficult times that you can’t imagine having a conversation with your teen, let alone an enjoyable chat with them, not at them. They do hear you. They do listen. And watch. And they test, always checking the boundaries. Just continue to be there with them and for them, and your faith and efforts will pay off handsomely.

What language are you choosing to use today?

Five minute Friday-Motherhood should come with...

Every Friday The Gypsy Mama gives a prompt and you are supposed to write about it in 5 minutes.  Only 5 minutes!  Also, no edits!  Just write.  So here goes . . .

Red Phone © psd Paul Downey at Flickr.com

Motherhood should come with...

A bright red phone that is a direct line to whomever you need that will answer the questions for wherever you are in your parenting. Questions like, “How do I diaper my baby?” (Yes, I did ask the nurses that question when it was time to take our first daughter home from the hospital.) and “Where is the user manual?” (The nurses said the babies don’t come with one, much to my dismay.)

A support group that is always there, for the changing face of the struggles you will face as a parent, and the joys you just can’t wait to share.

A journal and a great pen. And a teacher to stand over you to make sure you write in it daily, even just a few sentences, because you will forget all those adorable, cute moments, sayings and conversations. You do know you lose brain cells every time you have a child, right?

A great sense of humor for all those times that in the future will be funny, but right now, well, you just can’t see the humor for all the crayon on the walls.

And last, but certainly not least: Love. Oh, it already does. That is the one accessory that is included. Lots and lots of unconditional, amazing deep, powerful love.

True Colors

Crayons © Gingerme from Flickr.com

 Many times, you will discover nuggets of very interesting truths in everyday conversations, especially with your children if you learn to listen closely.

Our daughter had attended an event for a college classmate recently and got to catch up with friends there. Some of them did not recognize her, as she had matured from the casual, unmotivated, student into a polished, slender, more purposeful young woman.

She called me the following morning, and talked about how much fun it was to share the vision for her new custom dressmaking business with her peers. We talked about how much she had changed in a couple of short years, and I commented that it wasn’t so much a change as it was the process of her growing into her real self, much like a caterpillar morphing into a butterfly. Leslie agreed, and offered her own analogy of a snake shedding its skin. She added that when molting occurs, the colors of the skin transform from dull to rich, because the true colors become brightly visible. I know, it’s a strange analogy, a fashion debutante comparing herself to a snake, but that is a hallmark of her wonderful ability to think outside the box.

I think she was delighted to see these events in her life not so much as a change from “bad” teen/college student to good, but rather a peeling back of the layers to reveal her real self, to see the real treasure within. It was equally gratifying for me to see her recognize that she has always had talents and attributes that hold tremendous promise and possibility, which she did not always see or believe when she was a teen struggling to find herself and her place.

Inevitably, the words “true colors” in our conversation triggered the record player in my head, the needle dropped onto the 1980’s single by Cyndi Lauper, and I started singing along to Leslie:

I’ll see your true colors,
Shining through
I see your true colors
And that’s why I love you,
So don’t be afraid to let them show,
Your true colors,
Your true colors
Are beautiful like a rainbow

It wasn’t sung beautifully, but it was sung with lots and lots of love and shared laughter. This is just one of those moments that make all those difficult years so worthwhile.

Hang on, dear parents, and continue to put one foot in front of the other, and be the parent your kids need you to be as they make their way through the different and sometimes difficult stages of their lives. Listen well to them, as they have much to share.

Remember, too, that we each continue to grow into our true selves, that it is not just the children who are peeling back layers.

Where are you in your metamorphosis, and are your true colors shining brightly today?

How great Thou art

Just a bit of rich, vibrant, satisfying goodness to start your morning.
Let this be your encouragement to let your soul sing to Him today.

Five minute Friday-If I knew I could, I would

Every Friday The Gypsy Mama gives a prompt and you are supposed to write about it in 5 minutes.  Only 5 minutes!  Also, no edits!  Just write.  So here goes . . .

If I knew I could, I would...

I would reach out across the internet and across town, and share what I have learned with women of the world, and would be so excited to learn from them as well.

I would listen with great interest to what they know and where they’ve been, and offer thoughts, information and ideas to get up and out of situations from which they can’t see a way forward, I would connect them with each other so that we could see we have so much in common, and so much to offer one another.

I would send seeds of hope, love and laughter to these women, these wives and moms, and help them find the strengths, talents, and gifts in themselves, their friendships and their marriages. I would help them to see the wonder and joy of finding their faith when they find God.

And I would be so incredibly blessed to be part of this ever-growing, ever-enriching, vibrant group, where we all help each other to grow to be the women we were designed to be.

Dandelion Wish © Lifesupercharger on Flickr.com

On baking bread and God prods

Bread, © looseends at flickr.com

Who among us can resist a warm loaf of homemade bread or a pan of soft rolls, fresh out of the oven?



Very few, I think, and yet how many of us actually bake bread from scratch? 


Not me. Both my mom and my mother-in-law do, though, and they do it beautifully, making it look like the easiest thing in the world.

I got to thinking that the process of baking bread reminds me of how God works in our lives. He has carefully chosen the ingredients, and knows the steps that will turn us into a work of wonder.

Ahh, but here we come, deciding ourselves that we know better how to craft this recipe.

We decide that the water doesn’t have to be at a particular temperature for the yeast, and are perplexed when our bread is flat and heavy.

We work the dough endlessly, assuming that the extra kneading will result in an extra tender crumb, but are surprised when the bread is actually tough.

We decide that letting the bread rise much higher than usual must result in an even better loaf (more equals better, right?), and wonder why the finished product actually decreased in quality.



And then, I imagine as I did previously, that there comes a point when God takes his measure of us, again, and determines that it is time to take that ballooning mountain of pride dough and give it a quick light punch, to take it back down to size.



Ah, yes. It’s another God prod.

The whole situation reminds me of cooking with our girls when they were toddlers. They were so excited to be up on the shelf, cooking with me, that they just wanted to dump whatever they wanted into the mixing bowl and then turn the beaters on high and watch as the batter went flying. Fun stuff, but not very productive if we wanted treats we could actually eat.



So it is with us. Sometimes we get so caught up in being independent, being so sure we know best, that we lose sight of the recipe, of the path we were equipped to take, and are disappointed in the result, but are still brushing off and ignoring those little nudges and sometimes not so gentle jabs.

Have you become over-inflated of late, only to experience a helpful God prod?


Five minute Friday-The hard love

Every Friday The Gypsy Mama gives a prompt and you are supposed to write about it in 5 minutes.  Only 5 minutes!  Also, no edits!  Just write.  So here goes . . .

Start…

Nobody ever told me, wisely, how hard parenting would be. Especially when one of your daughters is so wonderfully different from you.

The difficult toddler years, when I would have to pull her away from the stairs and other dangerous places.

The challenging elementary years, when she would get so angry with me and her dad, that once she stood at the top of the stairs, while we had company, and yelled “Swears! Swears!” with an accompanying hand gesture.

The heartbreaking teen years, when I could hear sobbing from inside her bedroom, and myself stood crying outside her door, not knowing how to help her through the tremendously difficult times of adolescence, not being able to figure out how to get her to open up the door and herself to me, and of her not willing to let go of her steely independence.

Such a hard love.

End…

Arrrrggggghhhhh! I long to be able to write a post that I can leave as is at the five minute mark.

That being said…

My story has an important lesson and a happy ending that I must share, especially for all those moms who are struggling with understanding their daughters.

I was so challenged by our youngest. She was always much more like her dad, and she still does have much more in common character wise with him. He was always more easy going and more of a risk taker than I. Where he saw opportunity for growth, I saw danger. I would be quick to rise to her bait, while he would more often see it for what it was, and either ignore the challenge or call her on it.

Now that Leslie is a young adult (yes, we both survived!) I see our relationship as one that has grown and matured to a wonderful blend of love, laughter and respect. Is it perfect? Of course not. We both still manage to irritate each other, just nowhere near as often as we used to.

We have endured tremendous pressure, and with the benefit of hindsight, I see that we have been sharpened and shined into better individuals. I wouldn’t have it any other way, or have her be anyone else but who she is.

Moms, keep the faith, stay on the path, be the mom, do what is right, not what is easy, convenient or more comfortable, and later you will be able to be the friend, and have a delightful friend in your daughters.

 I beg your indulgence for one additional note:
If you would like a grown up sisterly perspective on a similar topic, Leslie’s sister Alexis recently blogged about their adult relationship here at her site, Alexis Hall Photo.

A conductor, the internet, and a choir-oh my!

I love music.

However, I don’t play any instruments, although I took a spin at the ivories and recorder in third grade (does anybody remember that instrument?), and learned the very basics of guitar from a friend in seventh. I did take voice lessons as a young adult, and enjoyed them immensely, but my voice took a hit (little pun here) when I passed out in a hospital emergency room, and my forehead/eyebrow and my voicebox made hard contact with the edge of a metal table on my way to the floor. No, I was not the patient, at least up until that point.

But I digress.

I stand in awe of music’s ability to speak to us, to touch us in a way that often the written word cannot. The sound of a choir, their notes seamlessly blending as one, lifts us on the waves of their crescendos and gently enfolds us in their pianissimos.

To sing in a choir is a true privilege indeed. To be invited to join a group that is over 2,000 members strong-well, that just defies expression. And then there’s the mechanics: How do you conduct a 2,000 member choir, especially if the invitation is worldwide, and the members are performing from home?

Conductor and composer Eric Whitacre tackled that question.

He started small, and posted the idea of a virtual choir on his blog along with the music and a video of himself conducting “Lux Aurumque”. He invited people to record themselves singing their parts, and then upload their videos to Youtube. He then combined the videos and published the results below.



Following the success of “Lux”, Whitacre put out another invitation, this time to perform his commissioned work “Sleep”. I love the juxtaposition of the humble individual videos-over 2,000-shot at homes around the globe-in 58 countries-where you can see glimpses of personal lives in the background, against the grand landscape of the planets created as part of the final production.

So, what do you get when you combine a conductor, the internet and choirs of one? Oh, my!
 Sweet, sweet harmonic goodness to soothe your spirits. Enjoy!

Losing our way and finding our audience of One

Audience of one © K. Hall

The love of the Lord, my Lord, washes over me as I sit here in the congregation with the light of the early morning softly illuminating the sanctuary while I listen to the worship team practice their songs for the service. I am, in a very small way, their audience of one. And yet, they play as though to a full house, their rhythms, chords and voices rising in lovely harmony, punctuated by the occasional stops to direct, fine tune and to laugh about where they just lost their way.

My dear hubbie and I facilitate Financial Peace University through our church. Our goal is to help others learn that they can manage their money and-yes!-have peace of mind regarding finances in their lives. This time around, the number of new couples in class is very small-just one, in fact. We give these participants the same attention and energy we gave to our larger class. We are leading a fresh audience of one, another couple like us who had lost their way.

Every day, every move we each make is for our own audience of One.

It doesn’t matter how much we’ve messed up or how long we’ve been gone.

It doesn’t matter if we’ve walked with Christ for a very long time or if we’ve just begun to entertain the idea of inviting Him into our lives.

It doesn’t matter if we have reached for Him for the first time, in deep desperation from where we have fallen, from where we have completely lost our way.

He is our audience of One, always there, always ready to listen, patient, forgiving and full of grace for us.

No matter where you are on your walk, whether you are on the path or you’ve lost your way, play your song for Him today, your own audience of One.

Five minute Friday-On distance

Every Friday The Gypsy Mama gives a prompt and you are supposed to write about it in 5 minutes.  Only 5 minutes!  Also, no edits!  Just write.  So here goes . . .


Distance.

It always seemed so far to drive to visit my grandparents, as they lived about two hours north of us.

There was always something else pressing, another to-do on the calendar.

And then, a little over two years ago, just before Christmas, after having to move into a nursing home/rehab center with my grandfather, my grandmother passed away.

The distance is too great now to visit.

She would have been 99 years old today.

I am so very sorry I didn’t take more time to visit. She was so amazingly talented and delightfully interesting: she wrote, she crafted, she painted. As kids, we spent summers in Northern Vermont, taking turns a week at a time, just having a ball being just one or two siblings as opposed to the seven of us at home, being encouraged, treated and loved. So very loved.

I am so grateful for her inheritance of craftiness, of thrift, of sharing, of loving my family, and especially of writing.

I have no doubt that in Heaven she is still so very busy, sharing her talents with others.

Thank you Gram, love you lots, and a very happy birthday that transcends the distance from my heart to yours.

Five minutes are up.
Done.

Grampa and Gram on their 40th anniversary

But wait-I’m not really done. I know I say that to myself every week, and have to resist the mighty temptation to add and edit, but this week there is something different about that statement. I feel absolutely compelled to continue, and now that door has been opened, I humbly request your indulgence for just a few more minutes.

I did write about her here, but in honor of her birthday, I would like to share a little more about who she was and how she lived her life, and how it is all so woven into my mom, me and my two daughters.

Thrift? Gram lived through the Depression and had Scottish blood. Need I say more? I see this trait in all of us, and our youngest has recently delighted and surprised us with her ability to turn an older garment into a fresh work of wonder. Without having ever been taught how to sew. I can hear Gram chuckling over it now.

Faith? I never realized what a true servant of Christ Gram was until I attended her memorial service. She worked at walking the talk, and I just wish she could see how Keith and I are walking that same path, learning about the joy to be found in our faith.

Creativity? My mom inherited Gram's creative gene, even though she pooh-poohs her talents, and she encouraged creative pursuits in all seven of us kids. I often wonder how she kept her sanity through it all. She taught me to sew and to do so much else, for which I am eternally grateful. Thanks, Mom!

Craftiness? Gram could take most anything and make it bloom into something else. Mom once gave her a bolt of bright green wool, and Gram made ornaments (about 100 a year for her annual Christmas Cards) from it for several years in a row, crafting slippers, scarves, mittens, etc as an amusing series. Our oldest daughter took that gift of craftiness and applied it to her wedding bouquet, which she created from felt and Gram’s button collection. (Alexis' amazing pet photography and blog can be seen at her site, Alexis Hall Photo.)

Button monograms and felt flowers © Alexis Hall Photo

 Writing? Gram wrote three family histories, composed sermons when she served as a lay minister for her church, and kept family camp scrapbooks, recording memories going back about 40 years.  I have inherited her gift, and for that I am eternally grateful. After finishing a post this week titled “On being sugared off”,  I emailed the link to my mom. I noted that I thought Gram would have gotten a real charge out of how I compared us to sap of the maple tree and the process of sugaring, since she was an avid fan of real Vermont maple syrup. I said that I could hear Gram laughing over the post, and would exclaim in her inimitable way, “Oh my land!”

My land, indeed. My home, my past, present and future tied so inextricably and woven so tightly to Gram and the amazing lady she was.

Sailing away from the Island of Settle

Sailing away © K. Hall

As captains of our crafts, we have questioned our purpose, and have been curious about our destination. We have wondered-or hoped-that someone or something else was in charge, and that they would provide the direction. All we had to do was sit. And wait.

Ultimately, though, whether or not we were prepared to admit it, we have been at the wheel, and somehow, we ended up on the Island of Settle.

We may have been drifting along, concentrating more on keeping the boat upright than on moving forward, when we scraped against a beach, and decided that it would probably be fine.

We may have been piloting ourselves to the security of a harbor-any harbor-knowing we may not get to live the life of purpose that God intended for us, but at least we would be safe.

We may have spotted a pier, and thrown our rope around a support post, hoping that THIS was the place where we would find that nameless thing for which we had been searching.

The problem as I see it is that too often we are willing to disembark at this little plot of land because it appears easier, more comfortable and convenient than doing the real exploring to discover the true fit for our lives.

When we take this path of least resistance, we can sense that the match isn’t there. Our boat may not fit into the slip. The natives may not appreciate our faith, optimism, and new ideas. The general climate and nourishment may not agree with us.

In spite of those signs, the temptation is to stay. The siren voices seduce us, reminding us that there probably isn’t really anything better out there, and why go to all that trouble and expose ourselves to danger, and that we’ll get used to it, and that hope is overrated, and that we just need to stay put and make the best of it.

Well, I believe it is time for each of us to ignore the lies, provision our boat, throw off the ropes, and navigate back into the open waters with a plan and a prayer, and we will leave the Island of Settle behind, with a fresh breeze at our backs, an attitude of humble expectation, and God leading the way.

On being sugared off

Maple Sugaring Time © deCadmus from Flickr

As we move from mid-March to mid-April here in New Hampshire, the wintry nights are mirrored by warm days, and maple syrup season begins.

I do feel sorry for you if you have never stood in a sugar shack and experienced the heat of the roaring wood stove while being enveloped in the warm steam that carries that trademark sweet maple-y scent.  In the short version of this event, the maple trees are tapped with spigots or tubing, and the sap-which runs only at this time of year-is gathered and poured into a large vat back at the shack. It is carefully tended and stirred over a hot fire until everything that is not syrup is boiled and filtered away.

This process is called sugaring off, and the result is an amazing transformation of something that looks pretty ordinary into sweet, translucent, golden shimmering spoonfuls of lip-smacking goodness.

I think there are times we have a lot in common with the sap. Somehow, as we go through life, who we are sometimes gets watered down, and picks up debris, such as fear, anger, resentment, greed, jealousy, and pride. All of this dilutes and negatively flavors not only our nature but also that of our relationships. There comes a point, I imagine, when God takes his measure of us, and determines that it is our time-again-to be sugared off.

He lights the fire, and we feel the heat.

More often than I would like to admit, I think most of us resent the high temperatures and pain of this process, and desire to just continue floundering along on our own not so merry way. However, despite how we may feel, once we are “done”, well, at least for this time, we realize we are better for it. We are sweeter, and more like the person He designed us to be.

We are well served to welcome our season, whenever and how often it occurs, and open our arms to the delicious results of being sugared off.

How does your garden grow?

Spring daffodil shoots © K. Hall

Have you looked longingly and perhaps with a bit of jealousy at someone else’s garden?

I’m not talking about the green shoots and brown dirt kind here.

 I’m referring to the life they are tending each day for themselves and their families Are you envious of the joy they cultivate at work? Dismissive of the loving relationship they’ve grown with their husband? Rensentful of their ability to shower themselves and others with their kind-hearted laughter?

While you probably do not have the same mix of abilities, skills and strengths of other women, you, too, have within you an incredible abundance, seeds of great and wonderful things.

It’s time to locate that forgotten packet of possibilities, pick it up, blow the dust off and follow the simple instructions on the back.

Prepare your ground with loving hands and an expectant heart.
Refresh the newly prepared beds with heaven’s dew.
Care for the tender shoots, giving them the nourishment they require.
Tend to your garden daily, for without your constant care, the new growth will wither on the vine.

The work can be taxing, and dirty, and every seed will not always bear fruit, but, in time, you will be rewarded with a bountiful harvest.

Share with me what you are doing with the seeds God has given you.

A well worn home

Tool chest coffee table © K. Hall

This morning my dear hubbie made an interesting observation. We had held our annual spring cleanup day at church, where we washed windows, scrubbed surfaces, took care of some maintenance issues, freshened some walls with paint, and did what we could to put the parking lot together after another winter’s worth of plowing. Keith noted how fortunate we are to belong to a church that needs this TLC, as that means the church is being used.

It made me think of all of us moms who worry so about our homes and how they look to our friends and family. Sometimes all we see are the little handprints on the walls, the lumpy cushions on the furniture and the bits of meals left under the table.

What if, instead, we viewed these through a fresh perspective, as I wrote about here, and thought about all of these things as visible signs of love?

Those handprints? They show a toddler learning to stand up and balance themselves.

The worn couch? It shows years of company and family getting together to enjoy some time together.

The crumbs on the floor? They show the family gathering for meals.

Perhaps when we view life through this lens, rather than feeling embarrassed because we aren’t more diligent about keeping our spaces pristine, we will remember what is really important. We can be more forgiving of ourselves and feel the gratitude of belonging to a family who lives and gathers together in joy, laughter and love.

Five minute Friday-If you met me....

The Gypsy Mama and her Five Minute Friday challenge:

Every Friday The Gypsy Mama gives a prompt and you are supposed to write about it in 5 minutes.  Only 5 minutes!  Also, no edits!  Just write.  So here goes . . .

 If you met me....
I’d try to be on my best behavior, to listen well, and to learn all about you, as I know you have amazing stories to tell and words of wisdom to share.

I’d ask for your forgiveness if I talked too much, as sometimes I can be like a burbling brook that jut overflows its banks.

We’d find things in common, I am sure, and if I found that you loved M&M’s as I do, I would offer you some. If I hadn’t already exhausted the bag in my cabinet.

You’d find that I am part of a whole, large, loving, boisterous family, and that without them, I would not be what I am today. You would learn that I am so proud of the 53 (yes-53-not a typo!) of us that comprise both sides of our immediate family, and that I learn so much every day from each and every one of them.

You’d wonder at some of the things I say, as I do tend to mix up words in strange ways.

All that aside, though, I have no doubt that we would share more in common than we might realize, and we would share some laughs, some sorrows and some triumphs. And if at all possible, some yummy chocolate too.

Family portrait: Be yourself...    © K. Hall