55 Things I Know at 55

For her 35th birthday, my niece shared a list of 35 things she knows. I thought it was a great idea, so I made a list of 55 things I know, or think I know, for my 55th birthday. They say that with age comes wisdom. With age comes time to learn the wisdom of others and to learn from your own mistakes.

1. Nothing beats determination. Try, try again. Never give up.
2. Humility is not thinking less of yourself, it's thinking of yourself less. - C.S. Lewis
3. One of the worst things you can do to yourself is compare yourself to someone else.
4. Forgiveness frees the forgiver. Hanging onto a grudge is like letting someone live rent free in your head.
5. I got a couple dents in my fender, got a couple rips in my jeans. Try to fit the pieces together but perfection is my enemy. And on my own I'm so clumsy but on Your shoulders I can see I'm free to be me and You're free to be You. - Francesca Battistelli
6. If it sounds too good to be true, it probably is.
7. When people show you who they are, believe them the first time. - Maya Angelou.
8. I am a work in progress. God is not done with me yet!
9. There is something magical about mornings. Nature awakens. It's a fresh start. It's not so "peopley" outside.
10. We all make mistakes. If you get a second chance, make the most of it.
11. If you live without something you really enjoy long enough (e.g. ice cream), you won't even miss it.
12. I don't have all the answers. I don't have to have all the answers. I can be content with not knowing the unknowable.
13. I don't have to prove that I am right. When I know that I'm right, it is enough.
14. It is a waste of time and energy to argue with a person who thinks they know everything.
15. I don't need physical pampering (manicures, facials, massages and the like). But I gotta have coffee.
16. I know what the Lord requires of me: to act justly, to love mercy and to walk humbly before him.
17. Protect your skin and eyes: slip, slop, slap and wrap. Clothes, sunscreen, hat and sunglasses.
18. Only floss the teeth you want to keep.
19. Blessed are those who do not fear solitude, who are not afraid of their own company, who are not always desperately looking for something to do, something to amuse themselves with, something to judge. If you are never alone, you cannot know yourself. - Paulo Coelho
20. The diversity of species that inhabit the Earth is astounding. Take the time to learn about just a few of them.
21. I have never regretted being kind or patient.
22. No one likes to be micromanaged. If you don't trust people to do a job, do it yourself.
23. The more that you read, the more things you will know. The more that you learn, the more places you’ll go. —Dr. Seuss
24. People were not meant to be couch potatoes. 
25. I am not athletic but I figured out how good it feels to push myself physically, to prove my endurance. Endorphins!
26. Some of the most useful inventions were created by mistake.
27. A smile costs nothing and makes a world of difference. We shall never know all the good that a simple smile can do. - Mother Teresa. A smile is a curve that sets everything straight. - Phyllis Diller
28. It is our responsibility as human beings to take care of the earth and the creatures that inhabit it.
29. When I make a mistake in Microsoft Excel, I can click the "undo" icon and reverse my last action. Real life is not like that. You can't unbreak a promise or take back careless words.
30. Children are a blessing but you don't have to have them to be happy. A good marriage is a blessing but you don't have to be married to be happy. Live your life.
31. Our culture idealizes extroversion but extroversion is not better than introversion. Both types have strengths and weaknesses.
32. Don't dwell on your mistakes. Learn from them and move on.
33. The other lane almost always appears to be moving faster. Most of the time, it is not.
34. Power corrupts and absolute power corrupts absolutely.
35. I learn more from failure than from success. Perhaps because failure is humbling.
36. When I enrolled in college, I thought about becoming a psychologist because I love learning about the human mind but I didn't want to have to talk to people. I thought about becoming a journalist because I love to write but I didn't want to have to talk to people. Thank goodness I have many interests because I found a livelihood that was right for me.
37. Sometimes you have to get out of your comfort zone - like talking to people.
38. We should listen to hear and not to respond (I took this one from my niece's list). Hold back on giving unsolicited advice or telling your own story.
39. Don't automatically assume that other people share your values.
40. You don't have to put two spaces at the end of a sentence as I was taught.  Old habits die hard.
41. Singing is a powerful memory technique. Every time I climb over rocks on a hike, a commercial from my childhood pops into my head. Fat kids, skinny kids, kids who climb on rocks. Every time.
42. True beauty comes from within: a gentle and quiet spirit.
43. Empathy is seeing with the eyes of another, listening with the ears of another, and feeling with the heart of another.
44. Confession is good for the soul.
45. Sometimes your only available transportation is a leap of faith.
46. Google and other search engines taught me that my thoughts are not unique. 
47. If you experience cognitive dissonance, it may be time to change your beliefs.
48. No matter how old you are, you still feel like the same young person inside. 
49. Change is inevitable. Growth is optional. - John C. Maxwell
50. Reading "A Purpose Driven Life" did not show me my purpose. I found my reason for being in five words of Jesus: ‘Love your neighbor as yourself.’
51. When you believe in your values and yourself, you don't have to worry about what other people think. Even insults lose their power to sting.
52. The ability to say no to yourself in the face of temptation is a super power.
53. The best bucket list I have ever seen is a short and simple one: 1. Move to the beach, 2. Have no regrets.
54. I know my Redeemer lives. Let all creation testify, let this life within me cry, I know my Redeemer lives! Because he lives, I can face tomorrow. - Nicole Mullen.
55. Not one day is promised, not one day. Don't take your loved ones for granted.

And here's another one to grow on - life is a journey not a competition!

Dear Younger Me

A couple of months ago, my childhood pen pal found me on Facebook. We got together for lunch to catch up on forty years of life. Lori gave me letters that I had written to her from 1974-1976 when we would have been in the sixth through eighth grades. You wouldn't know it from my letters, but those were tumultuous times. 

Coincidentally, my sixth grade teacher wrote me a message on Facebook saying I should share a blog post I wrote about the sixth grade to show kids that time has a way of taking care of things. The world is much different than it was when I was a kid, but kids still face many of the same challenges. Sometimes I hear adults say that they would like to be a kid again. I wouldn't want to relive my childhood unless I could do it armed with the life experience I have now. What would the adult me tell the child me if she could?

Dear Younger Me:

I usually start out my letters with "I am fine. How are you?" I won't ask how you are because I already know. I'm writing to let you know that although you have a bumpy road ahead of you, you will come out of it pretty much unscathed. Someday you'll even be able to look back on these years without a feeling of angst.

If you feel like you don't fit in right now, you are not alone. Shy people like you aren't popular. You aren't cool. You won't be a star athlete; you won't even have the opportunity to try out for the team. That's okay. It is not unusual to feel like a misfit in school - look at all the movies that have been written about this! Yet kids who feel like misfits still grow up to be amazing, successful, functional adults.

Speaking of fitting in, I have to warn you that people are determined to force square pegs to fit in round holes even though there are slots that fit square pegs perfectly. People will try to change you into something that you are not. They already tell you to speak up, to be more social. It's not working, is it? They have been calling you bashful and shy since you were knee-high to a grasshopper. The labels tell you that you are different; that you are not what you're supposed to be. All it does is make you feel like there is something wrong with you. There isn't.

Someday, you will find your tribe. You'll discover that there are millions of people like you. Introverts are awesome! You'll find a job that makes the most of your strengths. But in the meantime, you'll have to put up with the pressure to conform to the "extrovert ideal." You'll have to participate in activities that were designed for extroverts - things that fill you with dread and anxiety. It won't be easy but you have to get out of your comfort zone once in a while. Facing your fears will make you even stronger!

I know that you are embarrassed and ashamed of being poor. Things are also a bit crazy at home. Take a walk in someone else's shoes. You're not the only one from a "broken" home. Unless you see the bruises, you don't know what another child is going through. Count your blessings. 

You already know that you shouldn't judge a book by its cover. But you have let a few snobby people convince you that your worth is determined by social status - how much money your parents have, the clothes you wear. They are wrong! (I'm going to let you in on a secret: you'll be able to afford nice things when you grow up but you won't even want them.)

The hardships you face today will teach you an invaluable lesson. Your worth is defined by the content of your character. Period. So be honest. Be reliable. Always do your best. Go the extra mile. Treat other people the way you want to be treated. You will regret a lot of things in your life, but you will never regret being kind.

There's one more thing I want to bring up before I close. Your mom. Over the next few years, she's going to frustrate the heck out of you. You won't understand her choices. You'll spend years trying to understand why she does the things she does. You don't realize how young she is and how much weight she has on her shoulders. The only thing you need to know is this: she loves you and she's doing the best she can. Give her a big hug for me, okay?

Your friend always,

Cathy

P.S. U-R 2-Nice 2-B 4-gotten

My sixth grade teacher is right. Time changes things. Forty-three years ago, I would not have shared what I write with strangers. In one of my letters, I wrote about something upsetting that happened in Reading class. My teacher asked me for all of the stories I had written. She had a committee of my peers read them to select one to put in the newspaper. I was mad because I didn't want my stories to be published! I was very self-conscious and hated being the center of attention.

Time certainly changed my perspective on the struggles of my childhood. They say that adversity builds character. Perseverance. Determination. Empathy. If I could go back and relive my childhood, would I be willing to trade some measure of adversity for some measure of character building? No, I wouldn't. Painful memories fade. The lessons you learn in a "hard knock life" last forever.

Getting Into My Zone

All I wanted for Christmas was a Myzone heart rate monitor. I already had two Polar heart rate monitors with dead batteries and a Suunto HR monitor that still works. I don't use the Suunto HR monitor anymore but I wear the watch that came with it everyday. This monitor is different. What I like about it is that when I work out with it at my athletic club, the results of my efforts appear on a TV screen. A tile displays my heart rate, the percentage of my maximum heart rate and the meps (Myzone energy points) I've earned.

I usually resist the urge to get the latest fitness gadgets. I was very tempted by Fitbits at one time but I never bought one because there were too many kinds to choose from. 

But now I need motivation to work out harder. Since I started working out in the morning a year or so ago, I've neglected the cardiovascular part of my workout. When I drag myself to the gym 10-15 minutes later than I intend to, I don't have time to do 30 minutes of cardio. I spent several weeks doing rehab exercises for the back of my knee and that also cut into my cardio workouts. So even though I exercise at least five times a week, I've gained several pounds.

How does having this fitness gadget motivate me? The process of measuring effort motivates me to push myself harder. Myzone shows how hard you are working with five color-coded heart rate zones. The lowest level, grey, is 50-60% of your maximum heart rate. The highest level, red, is 90-100% of your maximum heart rate. 

I have always found that the maximum heart rate calculation is too low for me. Maximum heart rate is usually calculated as 220 minus your age. Myzone uses the formula (206.3 minus .711 times your age) which is a few beats higher. At my age, the maximum heart rate is 168 per the formula.

The first time I used the monitor, it said I was in the red zone (90% of the maximum) when my heart rate hit 150. But I don't feel like I am working hard at 150. I am not gasping for breath. I asked Renee, a trainer, about this and she said that Myzone would recalibrate itself. I can already see that happening. After using the monitor a few times, I didn't reach 90% until my heart rate was 154 or 155. Now Myzone shows a maximum heart rate for me of 173.

Myzone initially showed my resting heart rate as 75, typical for a person my age. After I used it a few days, it adjusted my RHR to 65. Renee said that I should put the fitness belt on while I am still in bed to measure my resting heart rate more accurately. I measured my resting rate this morning at 51. I thought it would be between 55 and 60.

My goal is to burn 500 calories each time I go to the gym, unless it is a rest day. I can reach my goal by running a 5k or by exercising about 40 minutes on other machines.

1/31 Update:

I've been using the My Zone heart rate monitor for just over a month now. A couple of weeks ago, I did a fitness test on a treadmill.

Free to be real

A few months ago, after my brother-in-law Greg passed away, I played dress-up with his granddaughter, Macy. My sister Amy took a picture of us. I thought about sharing the photo on social media at the time because it captured a fun moment but I didn't because I don't like the way I look. When I jut out my chin, an unconscious gesture, I accentuate the strong jaws I inherited from my paternal grandfather. Today, I'm willing to share the goofy photo because life is teaching me that I'd rather be flawed and real than perfect and fake - both inside and out.

I have always been reserved, holding back from expressing myself freely. It's a protective instinct. I have to really, really trust that I am safe with people to let my hair down. Although I am more comfortable expressing myself by writing, I still censor myself too much. I filter out what I don't want other people to see, holding back what I really think. I control what I say or do, especially to avoid criticism. When I censor myself, I conform to the expectations of others instead of sharing my unique perspective. Sometimes I keep my thoughts to myself because what I have to say might offend or turn off one friend or another. Not appropriate for atheists. Not appropriate for Evangelicals. Too boring. Too weird. Too much navel-gazing.

Censoring myself to avoid disappointing or offending or boring others is not extending the same grace to myself that I would to someone else. I don't expect or want other people to be a cookie-cutter version of me so why should I try to be like anyone else? Self-censorship isn't being real and authentic. By editing out parts of me, I present an incomplete image, just as in keeping an unflattering photo to myself, I hid my playful side. 

I will never be perfect and that's okay

Like everyone else, I have a public personality or persona. My persona is the social facade that reflects the role I play in life. It is the image people expect me to uphold, the image I present to meet the demands of my environment or the situation I am in. My persona is the way I want other people to see me. 

The persona is a mask disguising the real self. It often represents an idealized image or role. Some of us have a professional buttoned-down persona, others want to be seen as the life of the party, others maintain a facade of toughness, and still others resist being typecast. Your reputation is based on the impression people have of you, so in that sense, image is everything.

When the persona is false, based on pretending to be something you're not, image is nothing. Pretending to know everything when no one does. Pretending to have a perfect life when no one does. Basing your image on things that are superficial - like money or the way you look. That kind of image is meaningless. We may fool a few people with a false persona but perceptive people see through the act whether we want them to or not. 

Spiritually speaking, people who put a lot of effort into protecting and maintaining a chosen persona have a lot more inner work to do to face the truth about themselves. In Falling Upward, Richard Rohr wrote that you should be really careful about any idealized role or image because they are hard to live up to and can trap you in a "lifelong delusion."

I have to admit that I do have an idealized image. She is a Nice Person, a Good Person, like my grandma. I want to be seen as kind, gentle, and considerate - the kind of person who doesn't step on toes or make anyone feel bad. I want the world to see me as someone who is never angry and never says anything bad about anyone else. The real me falls far short of my ideal.

I've always been turned off by people who are pretentious, fake, phony, or hypocritical. I'd rather be around people who admit that they don't have all the answers, that they don't do everything right, that they don't always look good. I'd rather be that kind of person myself.

I have learned that my idealized self is not worth protecting because 1) it isn't achievable and 2) although I will never be perfectly good, God loves me anyway. Francesca Battistelli's song, Free to Be Me, sums it up well:

When I was just a girl I thought I had it figured out. My life would turn out right, and I'd make it here somehow. But things don't always come that easy and sometime I would doubt.

'Cause I got a couple dents in my fender. Got a couple rips in my jeans. Try to fit the pieces together but perfection is my enemy. On my own I'm so clumsy but on Your shoulders I can see, I'm free to be me.

I have nothing to prove. I'm free to be the real me. 

If trees had necks

Three years ago, I wrote that I was Determined to Age Gracefully. Now I'm rethinking my choice of the word  "gracefully" because for some reason it makes me think of Grace Kelly, the actress who had flawless skin and an elegant neck. That mental image doesn't quite match the face and neck I see in the mirror. Then again, she was only in her twenties.

Speaking of necks, I finally read Nora Ephron's essay I Feel Bad About My Neck. I feel bad about my neck too! I wish I had appreciated its firmness when I was young!

For years, I have been very good about putting daily moisturizer with UV protection and nightly rejuvenating cream on my face. I forgot about my neck. But just as Nora said, you can put makeup on your face and concealer under your eyes but "short of surgery, there's not a damn thing you can do about a neck. The neck is a dead giveaway. Our faces are lies and our necks are the truth. You have to cut open a redwood tree to see how old it is, but you wouldn't have to if it had a neck." Truth.

As I age blithely (imagining Blythe Danner), I can't escape the honesty of my neck. I have experienced the shock of seeing its reflection in the side view mirror when I ride in the passenger seat. Again, from Nora: "if you want to get really, really depressed about your neck," look in the rearview mirror.  

Nora had a couple of suggestions for coping with a neck that is loose, crepey, saggy, flabby or all of the above. One, avoid looking in the mirror if at all possible or you may find yourself shrieking, Eek! I have a wattle! If you must pass a mirror, avert your eyes or squint so that if anything bad looks back at you, your eyes are already half closed. While on vacation a few months ago, we went to a restaurant and sat opposite a mirrored display case. Watching the old lady across from me nearly ruined my appetite. I should have squinted.

Two, practice "compensatory dressing" even if it means you have to eliminate 90% of the clothes you might otherwise buy because the neckline isn't flattering. Think turtlenecks and scarves and chokers, which perhaps could be called wattle wear. Sadly, I only have one turtleneck and am not a fan of scarves. What'll I wear now?

As I age rosily (imagining Rose of the Golden Girls), I'll try to remember to moisturize my wattle as I squint at the old lady in the mirror.

Not So Random After All

A couple of weeks ago, I challenged myself to write every day. I thought I would see what it feels like to just write whatever random thoughts are in my head each day. The truth is whatever thoughts are in my head on any given day aren't really random. My thoughts are influenced by what I read in the news (and whether I care about it or not), by the time of year (holidays, deadlines), and by my own personality and interests.

If I really wanted to write about something random, I'd write about a topic someone else chose for me. I remember doing writing exercises like that in school. WordPress has a one-word prompt for blogging ideas (recent examples: percussive, underdog, gremlins, mercy). That's random.

If I chose a random word and wrote about it without any preparation, I wouldn't do it very well unless the word evoked thoughts of something I really care about. For example, I have no idea what to do with the word percussive but I would have a field day with underdog and mercy. I just don't express myself well extemporaneously. It's the way my introverted mind is wired. My random thoughts take a long ride through the Broca's area and the right fronto-insular and the left hippocampus. It's nice to know they're going somewhere and not just bouncing around aimlessly.

Word: brain. I'm fascinated with the human brain. Whether introvert or extrovert, I don't think the mind's wiring is random.

Last weekend, my husband took me to the public library. I always go to the one closest to our home. It's small but I always manage to find something to read. Kent wanted me to see how much better the more distant library is (3.5 miles from home versus 1.8). It was nice! Since we were there, I checked out a couple of books.

One of the books I chose is Before You Know It, by John Bargh, PhD, about the unconscious mind and the reasons we do what we do. In a chapter on gut instincts or intuition, Bargh wrote about research on whether unconscious decisions were as good or better than decisions we make consciously. He said that conscious thoughts are better if there are rules to follow, such as when you are making a financial decision based on a budget. 

Unconscious decision-making is better when there are many complex factors to consider. Bargh explains that our conscious working memory is limited and can't focus on more than a few things comfortably. 

Studies have shown that the best decisions are made with a combination of conscious and unconscious thought processes. If you first consciously think about a problem and then put your unconscious mind to work, the outcome is better. The trick is, you have to distract your conscious mind by thinking about something else entirely. Your unconscious mind remains active and helps solve the problem.

This makes me think of the "tip of my tongue" experience, when I'm trying to remember the name of a person or movie and I think it might begin with a certain letter but I just can't remember it no matter how hard I try. I've learned to just say, never mind, it will come to me when I'm not trying. I know my unconscious mind has the answer.

Writing works the same way for me. If I think of a topic with my conscious mind and then go on to do something else entirely, my unconscious mind kicks it around for awhile. I pull up long-term memories and make personal, emotional connections. My frontal lobes get into gear and plan how to organize and make sense of my thoughts.

Knowing that my thought processes aren't as quick or spontaneous as I would like them to be doesn't mean that I shouldn't challenge my brain to work differently. One of these days, I'll give the truly random one-word thought prompt a shot. 

Gremlins were lemons.

The Memory Holder

Today we put up our artificial Christmas tree, a new one. It feels like we just did this, I said. Every year I say this because every year flies by so quickly. Maybe we should just leave it up year round, he said. But the Christmas tree wouldn't be nearly as special if I see it all the time. I would also miss the annual ritual of decorating it.

So I went down to the basement to get the box that holds most of my ornaments. First I hung several glass ornaments in my favorite color, red. Then I got out the partitioned box that holds almost all of the special ornaments I've collected over the years and carefully selected a spot for all of my favorites.

Santas and angels and snowmen. 

Chipmunks and mice and deer.

Snowflakes and sleds and polar bears.

There's the knitted mini Christmas stocking that my Grandma C. made and a knitted cap from someone I can't recall. There's the felt mouse that hangs with a candy cane.

Many of my treasures were given to Kent or me or us by people we worked with who are no longer in our lives. In some cases, I couldn't even tell you who because I wasn't smart enough to write it down. But I know the gold deer came from Alan's wife. And the delicate glass shell was from Mr. Hamilton's partner Lisa.

There's the set of blue snowflakes made out of beads and the white tree and cross, also made of beads. There's the giant feather covered ball that looks like it would be quite cat enticing so I put it out of reach of inquiring paws. 

There are two sets of glass Hallmark ornaments from 1985-1987, the years that Kent and I worked together for Kennedy and Coe in Salina. Also from the Salina years, two Garfield the cat ornaments. From my job at FPPA, I have a collection of wood ornaments, each one a gift from Hancock Timber. I see them and remember our trip to Richmond, VA and our stay at the historic Jefferson Hotel. 

When I get out the angel and the violin, I think of a graceful redhead named Amy who went to Jazzercise classes with me years ago. My pink Precious Moments ornament - the only pink ornament I've ever had - was a gift from another Jazzercise friend, Janeen.

Memories. Even the box that I carefully pack my ornaments in evokes memories. The box originally held Libbey juice glasses - a wedding gift from my college friend Cherri.

My tree brightens up a corner of the family room for a month every year. But it holds precious memories, precious moments in time.

A Glorious Purging

Yesterday, a friend said that people should stop confessing the sins of others. I thought it was kind of clever and while I agree that we should all focus most of our attention on our own sins, there are times when the misconduct of others should be called out and publicly condemned. Collectively, we have a responsibility to protect the vulnerable and the powerless. Culturally, we have a responsibility to demand moral behavior and to elect people of good character.

We're seeing an example of the value of public confessing play out in the news today. It isn't pretty. It isn't pleasant to hear. Some say that we are witnessing a cultural shift and I hope it is true. As a fifty-four year old woman, I say, it's about time.

Every day, another woman comes forward to confess, it happened to me too, and she publicly identifies the man who did it. Since the beginning of time, sexual assault, unwanted advances, and other forms of sexual misconduct have been swept under the rug. Boys will be boys. It's just locker room talk. She asked for it. Powerful men get their attorneys to pay off their accusers and no one knows. Their status and reputation remain intact. A judge slaps a young rapist on the wrist because he doesn't want to ruin his life; never mind the fact that he ruined hers. 

I think of this particular confessing of the sins of others as a glorious purging. The public purging is necessary to rid our culture of deeply ingrained behaviors and attitudes that denigrate and harm women. Purging is the airing of dirty laundry. It's  messy and nasty. It's embarrassing and potentially costly for the accused. And while it might seem better, at least for the accused, to not name names, putting a face to the story humanizes it. By listening to personal stories, we give a measure of dignity to the victims.

All women are empowered when a few women have the courage to come forward - that's the glorious part. Instead of being the usual he said/she said, it's he said/she said to the 14th power. Collectively women are saying, we have had enough. We deserve to be treated with dignity and respect. That's glorious.

Thankful for Clarity

By Jean-François Millet - The Yorck Project: 10.000 Meisterwerke der Malerei. 

Earlier this month, I looked back on the night a year ago when it became clear that an unfit, immoral man was about to become president of the United States. I grieved for my country then and I continue to do so today. My feelings about him have not changed. The office did not make him grow up. He is still a narcissist. He is still ignorant and uninformed. He is still the antithesis of Jesus Christ. But despite the darkness that pours out of him, I find reasons to be grateful and to have hope.

I am grateful for the much maligned press because it exposes the president for who he is. I wish that shows like CNN had not given air time to dishonest mouthpieces like Kellyanne Conway who claim that lies are "alternative facts." But I gained respect for the Washington Post and the New York Times and other news organizations that continue to shine a light on the truth whether the president likes it or not. I have been inspired by Dan Rather's wisdom on News and Guts. No matter how bad things get, he has hope for our country.

I am grateful for voices of resistance. It was very powerful to take part in the Women's March and in a few others that followed it. This is what democracy looks like! As a follower of Jesus, I am grateful for the religious resisters who have the courage to say that many Evangelicals are hypocrites, modern day Pharisees all too willing to trade the teachings of Jesus for political power.

I am grateful that there is much more clarity now about where people stand and what they stand for. I used to assume that people shared my values because we grew up together or attended the same church. Those days are gone. Now, I see that many people, even Christians, only care about people who are like them. They live in fear of cultural changes and resent anyone who threatens the status quo or their economic security.

I am grateful that my faith has held firm. Jesus is the same yesterday and today and forever. I am convinced that Jesus is able to guard that which I have entrusted to him. I believe that when the time comes, he will separate the chaff from the wheat with his winnowing fork. He will clean up the threshing area, gathering the wheat into his barn but burning the chaff with never-ending fire.

I want to be unplugged and free

I don't want it to be the first thing I reach for each day.

I don't want to check it, even when it doesn't make a sound.

I don't want to walk around with my eyes glued to its screen.

I don't want it to bombard me with ads for things I don't need to buy.

I don't want to ignore people because it has sucked me in.

I don't want to depend on it for entertainment.

I don't want to live in fear of missing out.

I don't want to waste so much time with it.

I don't want to always be reachable on it.

I don't want to always be plugged into it.

I want to give people my undivided attention.

I want to really see my surroundings.

I want to notice little things that others don't see.

I want to make eye contact.

I want to smile and say hello to a stranger.

I want to lose myself in a story.

I want to enjoy quiet and solitude.

I want to use my imagination.

I want to express myself creatively.

I want to move.

I want to explore.

I want to unplug.

I want to just be.

A Special Place in Hell

When news of Charles Manson's death came out, I read comments on social media rejoicing that he is now in hell. It made me think about how much we count on God's judgment, especially when human justice is so inadequate, as it was for Manson. This got me to thinking about how little I know about hell. 

Jesus had more to say about hell than anyone else in the Bible. He described it as a dark, fiery place where there will be weeping and gnashing of teeth. In the parable of the rich man and Lazarus, he taught that there is a chasm between heaven and hell that no one can cross. 

I have always thought about hell as a place of endless suffering and separation from God. And just as I imagined that the righteous immediately go to heaven when they die, I imagined that the wicked immediately go to hell.

But according to What is hell like? on BibleInfo.com, the fires of hell have not started burning yet. The wicked will be reserved for judgment day - the day of doom. The fires of hell will not burn forever but will burn out. The article poses an interesting question:

Have you considered the following? If people were tormented forever in hell how could all things be made new? Additionally, how could all tears be wiped away if you were saved and happily living in an earth recreated, but could still see loved ones burning in hell for eternity? Eternal life for you in heaven would be eternal torment as you continually saw those you loved in unending agony. 

I don't like to imagine anyone burning in hell for eternity, not even the really evil, like Manson or Hitler. God is far more merciful and compassionate than I am. But I would like to think that God would fit the punishment to the crime. Would it be fair for Manson to meet exactly the same fate as someone who is guilty of lying or stealing?

I'm reading a book that mentioned Inferno, the first part of Dante's poem Divine Comedy, which I have never read. Dante imagined nine concentric circles of hell, increasing in degrees of wickedness from the outside to the inside. The circles represent different sins - lust, greed, wrath, etc. The devil is in the very center, condemned for the sin of treachery against God.

I would like think that there is a special place in hell for people who commit the most heinous crimes. But even if there isn't, I trust God's judgment. I know He hates evil. And I feel better knowing that the world now has one less psychopath.

Acting Like an Armadillo

Nine days ago, I started blogging everyday because I wanted to practice writing more freely and spontaneously. At the same time, I also challenged myself to share my posts on my personal Facebook page because I hold myself back from sharing with people I know. I want to get out of my comfort zone. I managed to share 6 out of 8 posts, which was pretty good for me. But I have to admit that it took a lot of mental/emotional energy and now I'd like to curl up into a ball and protect my sensitive side.

I received positive encouragement for sharing my posts but I'm not accustomed to much attention so it feels uncomfortable. I felt misunderstood by one extrovert and ignored by some of the people I care about most. I was also dealing with my usual self-doubting internal dialog - wondering whether people think I'm boring, self-centered, weird or whatever. Processing all of these emotions was exhausting.

I remember reading once that introverts withdraw even more when stressed. I know that is true for me. In Why Do Sensitive Introverts Withdraw, Brenda Knowles expresses my emotional patterns so well.

Sensitive introverts need safe spaces in order to engage. The less safe and more vulnerable an introvert feels, the less they tend to share. We need to feel especially secure and confident before revealing our personal thoughts. Critical and judgmental people will push us further into ourselves.

Even if I'm not facing critical or judgmental people, if someone misinterprets my point, it discourages me from wanting to say anything at all. 

I am trying to be authentic which means not constantly censoring myself. I don't want to fear being exposed for who I really am. Who I am is good enough. But at least for today or however long it takes to restore my inner calm, I'm an armadillo.

Extraordinary Gratitude

One of my favorite holidays is almost here, the annual day of thankfulness and excessive eating. So far this year I haven't read the usual 30 days of thankfulness posts. Although I have never participated in the 30 days of gratitude challenge myself, I am grateful for public displays of thankfulness, even the obligatory one I participated in yesterday.

Last night, at my church's small contemplative service, my pastor passed the mike around so everyone could say what they are thankful for. I listened to the usual responses - pregnancies, grandchildren, marriage, family, jobs. While I waited for the mike to get to me, I worried about what I was going to say. Grace? Family? My marriage? The good job I was blessed with after taking a leap of faith and quitting the one I hated? I dread public speaking so I just wanted to get it over with. When my moment came, my answer was no more deep and reflective than anyone else's. Family, marriage, job.

A couple of people said they are thankful for a Christian spouse, Christian kids, the Christian spouses of Christian kids. That's all good and nice if you live a life insulated from people who aren't like you. But I don't. And I thought to myself, I am thankful even if my husband is not a Christian. The One who created my inmost being and knit me together in my mother's womb knew the choices I would make.

Of all the expressions of gratitude, I thought one  was extraordinary. On the other side of the aisle, the mike was passed from one family member to another. The boy of the family said that after reading a book about coins and money, he is grateful for our monetary system! His answer appealed to me because there are so many things in life we old folks take for granted. The young and curious see the world with fresh eyes.

This morning as I drank my coffee, I read Garrison Keillor's post, A Trip to New York. I appreciate his quirky sense of humor. I appreciate the perspective of an old grump who can still say "It's good to be old. Every day is an adventure." After misplacing his driver's license and having his I-phone die on him, he wrote, "my phone is a God-given miracle. With this and my driver's license, I can go anywhere." The old remember what things used to be like. Every day truly is an adventure.

With the wisdom of the young and old in mind, I pause at the beginning of this week of thanks to express my gratitude for the ordinary and extraordinary things in my life.

1. Convenience foods - like my morning OJ and banana
2. Microsoft Excel. I couldn't work without it.
3. Office supplies - Post It notes, Sharpies, dry erase markers.
4. The body's ability to heal and protect itself
5. Pain that fades so quickly I can't even remember where I got that bruise.
6. Books
7. The public libraries that lend out those books. For free.
8. Netflix
9. Crossword puzzles to expand my vocabulary and keep my mind sharp
10. Sweet and salty granola bars and other delightful flavor combinations
11. Good bosses
12. Blue jeans
13. Technical tees for my sweaty workouts
14. Reusable grocery bags
15. Printed and digital newspapers
16. Raindrops on roses and whiskers on kittens
17. Memories of loved ones I have lost
18. Comfortable shoes, especially sneakers
19. Baby belly laughs and Macey's giggles
20. Electricity
21. Prayer
22. Lightening, thunder and rainbows
23. The First Amendment
24. Second chances
25. Ibuprofen
26. Personalities
27. Music - rock and roll, classical, the blues, gospel and soul
28. Oceans and beaches
29. Diversity
30. Givers, servers, volunteers

My list could go on an on.

I am grateful even if. Even if things don't always go right. Even if I don't have a perfect life. Even if my prayers aren't always answered the way I hoped. Even if I have fears about the future.

Even if. Life is good.

Miles apart but close in heart

I moved to Colorado almost thirty years ago. I drive to Kansas once or twice a year to see my family. I drove out for all the high school graduations of my many nieces and nephews. I have also made the trip for college graduations and weddings. Even though I chose to move away, I hate missing out on family gatherings.

My sisters and a few of my nieces are getting together at my sister Cindy's house this weekend and I won't be there. (My Alabama sister won't be there either.) I know they're going to have a lot of fun and some great conversations and I'm going to miss it. I want to be there. But I am going out of town in a couple of weeks for a conference. Plus my husband didn't seem to want me to go this time. (He usually enjoys having a couple of days to himself.) It's such a long trip, I decided to wait until I have time for a longer visit.

My mother also moved away from her family, even farther than my 550 miles. It must have been hard for her to live away from family for 48 years. She didn't get to visit as often as I do. It's much harder and more expensive to travel with kids so we visited grandma and grandpa and the aunts and uncles every few years or so.

I don't remember her exact words, but I remember my grandma sharing her wish that her grand kids could somehow be magically transported to Indiana from Kansas. If only we could have used Facetime in those days.

My brother Gerry lives in Bali Indonesia and his daughters live in San Diego. We don't get to see the girls or him often enough. My niece Ashley also lives in California and frequently posts pictures of her family. Even though her trips don't often coincide with mine, I'm glad to see that she often travels home to see family.

Distance is just a test to see how far love can travel. It travels from Colorado to California and to Kansas and to Pennsylvania and to Indiana and to Bali and wherever my family is. Side by side or miles apart, family is always close to my heart.

IT Ain't Helping

My office does not have IT personnel onsite. Instead, we have an IT "Help Desk" which seems to be nothing more than an email box monitored (or not) by a guy in Atlanta named Juan. When I started working here, my coworkers gave me the names of a couple of reliable support guys who work with Juan. Since then, one of them left the company. Juan hired a replacement after a couple of months.

At my last company, IT support was so frustrating and useless, we called it the helpless desk. I'm not sure what to call this help desk but It Ain't Helping. Last month, I needed help with installing a new application. No response. I followed up and Juan said, I'll work on it shortly. Then nothing. So I called the new guy and he got on it right away.

A couple of weeks ago, I sent an email about an issue with my laptop. I will be taking it on a trip in a couple of weeks. I can't power it up with the battery and my control panel said that no battery was detected. Before contacting the help desk, I tried removing the battery and putting it back in but that didn't help. There was no response to my email. I gave it more than a week, then sent another request. This time I copied the new guy.

Juan responded. After asking for my laptop model, Juan said: Go to your IT room and look for another laptop like yours. Remove the battery and put a note on your old battery that says "do not use."

Our "IT room" is a storage closet with a few old laptops that aren't like mine and few spare monitors. Interestingly enough, one of the laptops was already missing its battery. So I emailed Juan to tell him there were no laptops like mine.

In the meantime, while I waited for Juan to respond, I googled to find out how much replacement batteries cost. Then I checked to see if there were any articles about Dell laptops and the "no battery is detected" message. Sure enough, this is a common issue and I easily found a fix online.

Completely power down the laptop and remove the cord from the computer. Power on the computer without the battery. Once the computer is fully booted, completely power it back down and remove the cord again. Slide the laptop battery back into place, plug in the power adapter and re-boot the computer.

I am the Self-Help Desk. My laptop detects that it has a battery but it does not charge when the adapter is plugged in.

Juan emailed to say he is sending me a replacement. He gave me the shipping tracking number. It was addressed to the California office.

I'm not in California!

Unintentionally Offending

Some people offend people on purpose. I am guilty of offending people completely by accident. I am also guilty of taking offense when none was intended.

Yesterday a couple of things happened that make me think about how easy it is to offend people unintentionally. One, I wrote a blog post saying that every year I celebrate being married longer than my divorced parents. When my marriage surpassed the length of my parents' marriage, it proved to me that my marriage wasn't doomed to fail just because I was a child of divorce. A couple of friends said that they are divorced and do not feel like failures. I didn't intend to suggest that people who divorce are failures. But because I want to have a strong marriage, it was very important to me to not repeat the mistakes my parents made.

Our life experiences color our perspectives so much that we don't always get where someone else is coming from. We don't always stop to consider the impact of our words. You can drive yourself crazy trying to please everyone. I censor myself so much already that if I worried even more about saying the wrong thing, I would never say anything at all. So I have to take the chance that I won't get it completely right.

It is easy to make blanket judgments about people when you don't know what they have been through.

A few days ago, I chatted with a woman from church who is going through a long, painful divorce. When she first told me about it a year ago, she explained that her husband is an attorney and he litigates everything. He questioned every single decision she made. Life with him was a daily battle over insignificant things. It was emotionally exhausting. When their kids were grown, she decided it wasn't worth it to stay in an unhappy marriage. And now, even though the divorce is dragging on, she feels like a huge weight has been lifted off her shoulders. She is much stronger and has a much better outlook on life. I get this. If I were in her shoes, I would do the same thing.

Yesterday I read a friend's social media post asking that people stop complaining about pregnancy symptoms because it is insensitive to people who would give anything to be in their shoes. By the time I read the post, the woman who complained about being pregnant deleted her comments. I don't know anything about her so I can't judge her intentions. But I get the pain of insensitive comments and I know what is like to be attacked when you meant no harm.

But in reading the comments, I was reminded of Mother's Day and how a day of joy and celebration for most people is a day of sorrow and mourning for others - those who have lost a child or a parent or who struggle with infertility. I get it.

Not everything is black and white. Not everything is either all good or all bad. And even bad things are redeemable. Mistakes and failures are learning opportunities. One person's joy is another person's sorrow.