I’m not what people would describe as a “morning person”.  I am embarrassed to admit that in my younger years my mood for an entire day could be determined by how or when I was awakened. I also enjoyed sleeping in until mid morning when my mother wasn’t around to choose otherwise (that’s another whole blog). But, I’ve matured (I think) and have actually grown to love and embrace mornings especially when the sun is shining, filling our bedroom with the light and warmth from its majestic radiance.

I have always enjoyed the beauty of nature whether it was as a child watching ants work to build a home and gather crumbs for their food store or trapping crickets to have a collection of “pets”. I also was an eager assistant for digging up night crawlers with a neighborhood boy named David; his family had a cottage at Houghton Lake and were avid fishermen.

Perhaps my greatest enjoyment is listening to the songbirds that come to visit our pine trees and the many insects that have taken up residency in our shrubs, flower beds, and lawn. I’ve noticed that the birds are most active between 5 and 6 am. The conversations that I’m privy to as I begin to wake are most delightful. I love to imagine what they are talking about as each voice joins with another. Perhaps they are beckoning or announcing the promise of a new day…..a new food source…..or warnings of natural predators…..or are they responding to a Biblical command: “Praise the Lord from the earth, you great sea creatures and all the depths….beasts and all cattle; creeping things and flying fowl. (Psalm 148) I marvel that these small creations of God’s nature are obedient to their purpose.

Earlier this week we enjoyed (and still are) watching various butterflies coming to feast on our butterfly bush. The wonder of their fluttering wings is a sight to behold and even more enjoyable is that we can approach ever so cautiously and these lovelies don’t become afraid and fly off and away to another plant. We have been diligent in placing a hummingbird feeder on the porch but low and behold the annual visitors prefer the nectar provided by a hanging plant in full bloom. Some of these tiny birds have even hovered in front of the window either confused or admiring the reflection, all the while providing us a bit of brief entertainment.

As much as daytime hours provide abundant appreciation of the birds who come to our yard, I think the evening music is by far my favorite of all. Upon the setting of the sun a choir made up of numerous insects comes to life. On Tuesday evening I was entertained by a particular song piece that was an echo….first one group chirped a few lines and the second group answered…with its own melody. This back and forth concert lasted about half an hour. The song changed as the second group quieted and the first group continued with their performance.

When we’ve had a lot of rain which fills the ditch along our road, we get to enjoy the bellows of frogs. It’s been dry lately so I’m hoping for rain–I miss those guys! With the level of noise this section of the nighttime choir makes, it causes me to wonder “just how many frogs does it take to be that loud?”

It strikes me that the music of the nighttime choir helps to lull me into restful sleep and then with the same peaceful feeling be gently awakened by the morning vocalists. The words will forever be a mystery to me and yet a glimpse into understanding them may come from Lamentations 3: 22-23 “Through the Lord’s mercies we are not consumed, because His compassions fail not. They are new every morning; Great is Your faithfulness”. I’m thankful that all of creation responds with heartfelt gratitude for a new day, and their proclamation song fills my heart and my day with a beauty that is consistent and varied–fading from day to evening and evening ushering in a brand new day complete with a revised version of “God’s new mercies….”

A couple of weeks ago I wrote about “My Favorite Things”. This week as I pondered what I would write about a general concept kept crossing my mind. What if I were to compile a list of “things” that I can count on–you know–almost like Murphy’s Law. The concept that no matter how much one prepares for the day, the week, there are monkey wrenches thrown in the plan or in this case–those “things” that always pop up here and there throughout our day because we just know it will happen or needs to be accomplished. In entertaining this concept I’m not dwelling on negative events in any way. In fact, I am thankful that many of the “things” I can count on bring happiness to my life. So, with that established I’d like to give you a list of a few  “things” I can count on and, again, they are in no particular order other than number 1.

1. God’s promises to be made known to me each morning as I read His Word
2. Hot coffee every morning because that’s one of the many things my husband does to show his love for me
3. Sore muscles every Tuesday and Saturday following my strength training session
4. My best friend Luann singing in the morning as she readies her day
5. Morning chat time with my daughter on her way to work
6. Weeds in my flower beds
7. My perennials to come up year after year….producing new offshoots too
8. Mosquitoes buzzing…fireflies in July…..spiders emerging on cool days and ants looking for crumbs
9. Mailbox sunshine from Heather several times each month
10. A Sunday morning hug from Rhonda
11. My wonderful husband getting slightly irritated with other drivers on a long road trip
12. Seeing photos of my friends grandchildren or kids on their Facebook wall
13. A slight tease now and then from Kevin or one of the boys
14. Dirty laundry
15. An unexpected text message from Daniel to brighten my day
16. Inability to resist fresh baked cookies
17. Getting rain on a just-washed car
18. NEVER making the light at our corner
19. Poodle kisses from Jennah and Quinn
20. Feeling melancholy every September as children return to school

Because I am no longer working outside the home right now one would think that I am enjoying tremendous amounts of free time. Quite the contrary, I am finding that my calendar weeks fill quickly with opportunities to be occupied whether it’s for my benefit or for someone else. Fortunately, I have wonderful devices that alert me ahead of time when and where I  am scheduled to be throughout my week. As I move through each day I am often greeted with one or more of “my things I can count on”. I’m thrilled that I have God’s Word and that hot cup of coffee to begin my morning. A morning chat with my daughter is always a delight and if I receive mailbox sunshine when bringing in the afternoon mail my heart is warmed by the words penned with deep love. Daily tasks of preparing meals and washing dishes are intertwined with some time checking Facebook to see what’s going on in the lives of my friends and family; I can spot things that need prayer or even send a quick email to say hello or ask a question.

In an ever-changing world I like stability. I don’t like unexpected turn of events unless it means being able to exchange mundane for having fun! I like safe. If it weren’t for my faith and trust in God I would fear the uncertainties in life that bring fear and worry. I know that each day holds the potential for the “unexpected” and if or when something were to occur I will remain on the path called “Steadfastness”. As I do so, I will continue to take comfort from the “things I can count on” (See No. 1)

Today (Aug. 5) was another “one of those days” that didn’t belong to me or turn out the way I had thought it would be coming off a good weekend of weather and relaxation with friends which also included a quiet afternoon all to myself. As I settled into a cozy Sunday evening enjoying a cool breeze through the open window and a quick browse through my Facebook contacts I found myself in an open chat with a dear friend relaying the details of a medical emergency involving her daughter, who by the way, is the same age as our daughter. Thus, we are kindred spirits–we are mommas who share a deep love for our girls.

I don’t need or want to go into what those medical details are, nonetheless they are serious and with no hesitation my husband and I decided that in the morning (today–Monday) we would make the drive to the University of Michigan Hospital to visit Kelli, her husband, and our good friends and offer our support, encouragement, and above all else–an opportunity to pray with them instead of just FOR them.

Many of you (my dear readers) know that I live in a small rural community. Our tallest building is maybe three floors. And although I grew up in Saginaw our tallest building in the downtown was 12 floors. So, when we made our exit from US 23 to Downtown Ann Arbor, turning in the direction of the hospital complex I was amazed at the number of buildings connected to one another, several of them looming above the others and all bearing their specialties in big bold letters. I’ve been to Ann Arbor for trips to this same complex but each time has revealed a new aspect of the enormity of this particular healthcare system. At the moment that reality hit me,  I found myself catapulted from my small, quiet rural setting to the busy, hectic and complicated lives of individuals and families walking a hard road.

As we made our way through the parking ramp, each floor, each vehicle and their occupants began telling me an imagined story. I started forming questions in my mind such as ‘I wonder what all these people are doing here?” “Are there this many sick people?” “How many people work here?” The answers didn’t come. They couldn’t because I was an outsider, a bystander on the sidelines of each life.  No–instead on occasion I saw a family with a mentally challenged son make their way to the elevator. He was about 16. Was he born this way? Did an accident rob him of previous good health? Further along were several individuals in wheelchairs making their way to the elevators. Cancer? Therapy? Other needs? I began to think about some of our friends over the years who have been to this hospital for care: a kidney transplant from a daddy to his little girl, one of our son’s best friends who was treated in the burn unit, and others (too many) for cancer treatment.

As we walked the hallways of the hospital we also passed numerous personnel. Each one had a determined, purposeful look and gait to their step. I marveled at how young many of them looked. We also saw people who were in waiting areas…..men and women in wheelchairs….patients being walked down the hallway with a loved one all the while connected to an IV…..a mural of moving scenes that continued to draw me into a world full of questions, blankets of fear, and upside down dreams.

We arrived to our destination. Our visit with Kelli and her family was fantastic. We shared tears and we found laughter in the midst of encouragement and the reality of minor obstacles. We witnessed the love and care offered by complete strangers who are slowly becoming Kelli’s world for the next two weeks.

Later in the early afternoon in God’s great scheme of life, our footsteps crossed the path of a good friend from church who was waiting for a brother to arrive in order that they could make what are called “end of life decisions” for their dear father. In just a few days this beloved, aged man will exchange citizenship from  one place to another and we were able to encourage and give hugs before departing from that brief cross in two paths.

Upon our decision to return home, we took our place in the elevator for the very brief descent to the parking garage. In those very short moments we greeted another passenger, a lone female. One question from myself to her revealed her shocking news–a 57 yr. old boyfriend–formally in good health, diagnosed with pnuemonia had taken a turn for the worse and had been declared brain dead. She would be facing “end of life decisions” on Tuesday morning. All we could say was “We are SO sorry….” as the doors of the elevator opened and we parted our ways, another chance meeting of someone walking on a hard, emotional path leading to a final goodbye.

We left Ann Arbor in a fair amount of silence. We moved along with the busy traffic making our way out of the city to the expressway where we joined other cars and trucks of all sizes headed in our direction. I couldn’t help but think  again “what is their story?” as the hospital complex disappeared from our rear view mirror. I felt a twinge of sadness that with such ease I was able to be returning to the comforts of home, unencumbered and quite healthy knowing my biggest decision for the ensuing evening was choosing what to prepare for dinner. A wave of gratitude swept over me and blanketed me with humility and appreciation for living in good circumstances.

I’ve said final goodbyes to both parents and a mother-in-law. Those are bittersweet memories that I cherish, but having spent but a few hours in one our nation’s most prestigious hospitals still reminded me that life is fragile, it is precious and it is temporary. For that reason I am  joyfully embracing the Truth that my residency here on earth is not permanent. I feel myself dancing inside as I  focus and meditate on the promise that in John 15: 18-19 Jesus states that “I don’t belong to the world….” I belong to a great Shepherd Who is with me every step that I take. My prayer is that Mark can hear those Footsteps as he and his brother say goodbye to their dad…that the echo of His Footsteps bring comfort to the woman in the elevator reeling in unbelief and shock…..that the staff at ALL hospitals seek to walk in His Footsteps as they care for every man, woman, and child….and that everyone I meet has a “chance encounter” on a winding path of life’s experiences  with the One True Living God Who IS “our World”.

In my last post to my blog I wrote about some of my favorite things that bring me joy and part of that list would also include what I believe to be important to me especially in this season of life as I approach turning 60 later this year.

Several years ago my husband and I took advantage of attending a financial seminar offered at our church which taught us how to 1) recognize our current financial mess 2) understand that we were not alone in our mess 3) how to take the necessary steps to get out of our mess. While we may not have always followed each step to full ccompletion I am happy to say that we no longer have credit card debt; all that remains is the mortage on our home.  In the time that we took the course we were able to save for college tuition payments, a new roof for the house, airline tickets for a trip to California as well as purchases that previously would have gone on one of our several charge cards

Part of the teaching we sat under caused me to realize what is truly the difference between a ‘necessity’ and a ‘want’. I was forced to come to grips that deep down I have struggled with ‘materialism’ since childhood, a trait that can be nasty if not gotten under control.

It’s taken awhile to get my struggle with materialism to a healthy level but it’s been a journey that I would not have missed. It’s been a path that taught me new attitudes and gaining an excitement pursuing new and different ways to be frugal, repurposing items, ridding my home of clutter, saving for major purchases, buying on sale or used….my list could go on further. Yet, as I ponder even this short description I am reminded of my greatest lesson–what is truly important to me? This is a partial list to answer that question:

 1.  A healthy relationship with God….brought on by spending time reading my Bible

 2. A healthy and thriving marriage….time and effort on my part

 3. Healthy and loving relationships with my two young adult children

 4. A warm, inviting home where my family and friends are welcome

 5. Good healthy for my family and myself

 6. The ability for my arms and legs to move, my hands to work well, eyes to see and ears to hear

 7. Good food in the refrigerator, freezer and pantry. Full cupboards

 8. Running water (hot and cold) Lights, air in the summer and heat in the winter

 9. Wonderful childhood and adult memories created from two loving parents

10. The ability to laugh and cry (sometimes in the same day) and the privilege of being quiet

So, m sense of what’s ‘important’ in life has indeed changed. I will be the first to admit that I  

still struggle at times with a ‘need’ versus a a ‘want’ but as I continue to focus on how temporal my life is this side of Heaven I feel like I’m winning the battle in the war for my priorities, my time, my finances, etc.

One of my favorite Bible verses is  “seek first the Kingdom of God and all else will be added to you”….it’s a principle that I apply every time I drift in to a case of the ‘gimmes’ and a wonderful reminder that I don’t need another ‘thing’ to dust….more clothes to stuff into an already ample wardrobe…..books to collect dust on shelves…..I think you can see my word picture I am painting. 

This past weekend I participated in Lansing’s Color Run event. Even in my admitted shortcomings of preparation for the race, I was ready but not ready if you know what I mean? I did not know what to expect from my own performance. I certainly did not know what to anticipate being among 15,000 runners and walkers which included small children and babies in strollers. When my daughter Sarah and I arrived and made our connection with our team my questions were being rattled off a mile a minute until Sarah intervened for me and quietly said “mom just needs to know the plan”.

I am a person who needs to know ‘the plan’. I don’t like surprises. I don’t enjoy being derailed. I’m most comfortable with an agenda and time frame. So, my poor team members were hit with my questions such as…”will there be water along the route?” “will there be port-a-potties?” “do we have to run the entire race?”……It was so nice that my team members, who by the way were all old enough to be my children, politely tolerated my nervous misgivings and reassured me that I would be fine. With great respect they allowed me to offer an audible prayer for our team before we left the parking lot to find the starting line.

This was my first 5k. I really didn’t know how I would feel. We walked along the short route from our car to the start of the race and I must admit that each step closer to the starting line brought  more realization there was no turning back, no option to back out. As we got closer to the banner over the starting line, the closer the crowd of runners and walkers pressed in on me. I went from a newbie to official runner in a matter of minutes. I loved the energy generated from the crowd and from the young man with the microphone counting down our launch. The music was definitely for a younger crowd yet as I continued to glance around age was not  limiting many of my fellow wave members. 

With the final count to “Go!” we did. For the first time I knew how it felt and what it looked like to not be a lone runner on my country back roads, but suddenly thrust into being a group runner on the beautiful city streets of Downtown Lansing. The sun was the same–hot and bright–but the noises and cheering of the crowds replaced the sounds of cars and trucks rushing past me on my training days. Sarah and I stuck together walking in silence most of the time or giggling together as we made our way under and through the color stations, laughing at the amount of chalk up our noses, in our ears, or decorating our shirts and shoes.

I did not run the entire route and at first that disappointed me. I had really wanted to see if I could run 3 miles. Not being able to do so was a combination of the numerous individuals who chose to walk and spread out across the streets instead of staying to one side which made me lose sight of the running lane. In addition, I didn’t want to lose my team members who also weren’t running the entire route. As we continued to walk and engaged with those around us and arrived at each color station my sense of wanting to run was replaced by sheer enjoyment of doing something totally different for a Saturday morning.

I loved being a part of a zany crowd. I absolutely adored seeing families having a fun time together building relationships, creating memories and promoting good health. I laughed at seeing grown men wearing tu-tus and college age girls sporting colorful socks along with other crazy colorful running attire. I marveled that 15,000 runners and walkers, not counting event volunteers and workers, could enjoy a day where tempers didn’t seem to be flaring and cooperation was the mainstay of the morning. Part of me wanted to join several other young people who took time to purchase an iced coffee at the Bigby coffee shop and rejoin the rest of us making our way along the route.

So, if you were to ask me–was I satisfied with my experience my resounding response would be “YES”. I was able to overcome my nervousness by “not knowing the entire plan”, lay aside my personal expectations and fulfill a small dream–being a part of something bigger than jogging or walking in my own “little world”. I may have lost a little bit of hopeful running but I also gained valuable time with my daughter in the midst of our busy schedules.  I left the 5k gaining a new perspective about my abilities and observing first hand the goodness of people under the guise of coming together for the same purpose–having good, clean fun. Only the ‘clean’ part would be up for debate. None of us left very ‘clean’ but we WERE very ‘colorful’. And I’m pretty sure that many of us, myself included, are asking “When do I sign up for the next Color Run?” And I’m pretty sure ALL of us are still finding residue of color in our noses, ears, and the crevices of our shoes–evidence of a fun run.

Oh my goodness. What was I thinking? That’s the question I kept asking myself during the last leg of my bicycle ride late this morning. Never mind that it’s 85 degrees outside with 65% humidity. So, WHAT was I thinking? I was thinking that this weekend I am committed to a 5k event and that in the last 1 1/2 weeks I have done squat with my intended training regime. Looking back on those 10 days that will be forever lost to me, I can rationalize all I want but one thing remains, the event is coming and prepared or not, I am participating. Thus, I pushed logic to the side, donned my helmet, strapped my water bottle around my waist and off I went headed north on my country road, a gentle breeze guiding me alongside the road.

My goal this hot, sunny morning ride was to cover more than 5 miles in order to surpass my last recorded ride from last month. In order to accomplish this I visually knew how far I’d have to pedal to satisfy my overall workout. The first mile wasn’t too bad. In fact, I felt a bit giddy as I chuckled to myself thinking ‘this isn’t too bad’. Ha! There’s even a verse in the Old Testament that popped into my head to taunt my ego: ….pride goeth before the fall….By the end of the first mile I was fervently looking and anxiously anticipating finding a shade tree so that I could stop and enjoy some cold water from my water bottle. Doing so gave me something new to ponder. What’s worse? Tiring from the heat and thirst or swatting mosquitoes while being bathed in the cool shade of a towering tree? I began to imagine worse scenarios of survival so that I could tolerate and justify my temporary discomfort.

I was able to make it to a new destination before turning back for the journey home. Using the gears on my bike, I made adjustments to help with my return home. Whenever possible I chose to coast and save my energy. As I worked my way along I discovered that our road doesn’t have as many shade trees as I wanted or hoped, yet found while riding in a stretch of road where the trees on both sides form a canopy was pure heaven to a warm and thirsty soul. The benefits of the shade and smoother gravel surface allowed me to regain some energy and feel more optimistic about making it home.

During one of my water breaks I let my mind wander imagining if I just plain gave up the effort to complete my ride. I allowed myself to ask ‘who would I call to come get me?’ Logic told me it’d have to be someone with a truck or large car to carry my bike. I admit that for a moment (or two) I was entertaining defeat. I even wondered if I’d be better off walking home and guide the bike next to me. I thought about friends who have biked across our state and endured worse conditions and fatigue compared to this short route.

Thankfully, I chose (during my last rest stop) to put mind over matter and push through my thoughts of discouragement, the muscle burn from pedaling a few inclines, and the sun beating down on my face. I began to ‘coach’ myself. With each turn of the bike’s pedals I exhorted myself with “you can do this”, “you’re almost home”, “just a short way to go”. Climbing the last slight incline in the road was almost more than I could take as the speed of my bike slowed to a crawl, but I was determined. For a fleeting moment I remembered and laughed to myself about the time in 8th grade when I gave an oral report having never finished the book and making up the end as I spoke. Unfortunately, my teacher saw through my deceit and laziness and told me to ‘go home, finish the book, and you can give your report tomorrow’. I didn’t want my bike ride to finish this way, being lazy or giving up because the task was more difficult than I originally imagined as I tied my shoe laces in preparation for a morning of exercise.

My self-coaching worked. I inched back home on my beloved road. I coaxed myself along reminding my tired, hot body that today’s effort was not a race, but an exercise of endurance and perseverance. I visualized myself finishing the route, collapsing on the couch as the comfort of our air conditioned home washed over my sweaty arms and legs. 

My heart rate is back to normal. I’ve enjoyed a healthy lunch and the hour of discomfort from a hot, humid bike ride is behind me as I continue to wind through the day. Feelings of defeat have been replaced with a sense of accomplishment sprinkled with a new layer of wisdom–give serious consideration to using the earlier, cooler hours of the morning to pursue my goals. Would doing so matter?  Sensibility tells me as such–at least I could entertain the possibility of  not having to ask myself the haunting question–“What was I thinking!?”

A quick glance at the calendar reveals that this is the week we Americans celebrate Independence Day causing us to hopefully pause and remember those who fought long ago in the battles of war to gain freedom as a nation from the bonds of Great Britain. One of the resources I checked stated that representatives from the 13 colonies then fighting in the revolutionary struggle weighed a resolution that would declare independence. On July 2, 1776 the Continental Congress voted in favor of independence and two days later its delegates adopted the Declaration of Independence, a historic document drafted by Thomas Jefferson. The “rest of the story” is typical festivities ranging from fireworks, parades and concerts to more casual gatherings with family and friends. Having said this one would think that I’m “up” on my American history. And while that would be a wonderful compliment to hear, truth is I had to do a web search to make certain I didn’t misrepresent anything about this beloved American holiday. And, furthermore, I have to wonder….is July 4th and all the blood, sweat, and tears leading up to that historic moment in time captured in the hearts and minds of an average adult, teen or child? I believe I’m pretty safe to say the answer would be a resounding “no” and admit I can count myself in that group as well, although I like to think I do, for the most part, greatly respect and exhibit an inward gratitude for those sacrifices of so long ago.

Defining “Freedom” is one of those undertakings that could fill pages with thoughts and opinions. It’s a word that is used very frequently in the midst of tragedy or triumph whether an event has taken place within a people group or the life of an individual. Ask a World War II veteran his or her definition of freedom and then  compare the answer to that of a young person who is becoming part of a generation where the memories of fought wars is but reading material in World History or American History textbooks. I’m not sure that many of us would agree on a unified definition of freedom, however, I hope that we could all agree that with freedom comes a price, a price tag bearing blood, sweat, injury, and death–the ultimate sacrifice.

I’ve been blessed to soon be celebrating another milestone birthday. I am amazed at the changes that I have seen take place in our great nation from the time I graduated high school, joined the work force, married and had children, and now enjoying more time in my home again. With my current age, comes the reality that I have had the pleasure of participating in many 4th of July celebrations to celebrate our “freedom” but for me there is a greater freedom that I possess, a state of mind of heart that also came at a great price. A kind of freedom that also benefits “all” who acknowledge the sacrificial power behind the gift–freedom in Christ as described in Galations 5:1. Once I surrendered my life to Christ my yoke of slavery to sin was broken, freedom was granted and a life of abandonment was launched! Wearing a new garment of righteousness through Christ doesn’t mean I am perfect or won’t continue to stumble. What it means is that I am no longer weighed down by past burdens. Furthermore, I now have a license to “be who I am in Christ” while recognizing my license doesn’t include making wrong choices on purpose or in other words–making a mockery of the Cross of Calvary.

I fear there is so much more I could say about freedom as it pertains to our brave men and women who have fought in wars or in my attempt to describe the pain and anguish of one man’s death on a bloody cross 2,000 years ago. This latter death was not that of a mere man, but the Son of God, who came in the flesh in order that His physical death would purchase back  the fallen nature of man. This purchase is described as a gift of eternal life–Freedom!–from the bonds of slavery to sin and the darkness of life apart from God.

Unfortunately, both discussions of freedom–whether it relates to America or the subject of Christ’s sacrifice for mankind–cause disagreements or make some individuals downright uncomfortable or hostile, all of which cause me to grieve. When we miss the truth of our nation’s rich history complete with imperfect leaders or the depth of love by a Heavenly God Who gave His Only Son as atonement for our lives, I have to wonder where we are failing as citizens who make up families to embrace the richness of both “freedom” worlds. Parades will take place across America this Thursday. Firework displays will fill the darkened skies. Countless hamburgers and hot dogs will be enjoyed from a backyard BBQ or a sidewalk vendor. Flags will be waived in the air and the word “freedom” will pour from the lips of many celebrants throughout the day. In all of that I hope that the majesty behind that precious word is revealed to more and more of us. 

2,000 years ago a parade of sorts took place. This parade was different. This parade featured one person–a man riding a donkey. There were no flags being waived. Instead, he was heralded with palm branches. No fireworks were displayed. Rather, shouts of praise filled the air in anticipation of change. Within a few hours change did come and a once triumphant sounding crowd turned angry and vicious….. and ushered in “freedom”….through the death and resurrection of Christ “Who always leads us in victory”…..and thus birthed salvation.

As you celebrate this 4th of July I pray you, like me, will pause and dig a bit deeper into our American history. And when Sunday rolls around why not consider investigating the spiritual side of “freedom”. The price has been paid for both observances–all that’s needed is a willing heart to accept the gift both have to offer. When you discover and experience true “freedom” do something crazy. Waive a flag or shout a praise offering to the One Who is the source of both  “freedom” worlds.

Being flexible hasn’t always been one of my strengths. In all honesty, I can be rather rigid at times. I’m not referring to physical ability; it has more to do with my mindset. Once I get an idea or a plan in my mind, I stick to it and don’t like the ‘apple cart’ being upset which lends to being a control freak (as some people call it) or stubborn (a nicer term?) However one defines this particular personality trait is a choice of his or her own. I think stubborn sounds nicer than control freak. Even nicer though, is being called flexible so that’s an attribute I’m striving for as I mature with grace and wisdom as my teachers.

Tuesday is my appointed day of the week to write and I can see already that I have not guarded my intentions with fully loaded determination. Yesterday was Tuesday, today is Wednesday and here I am writing my weekly blog, yet when I look back on yesterday the activities that wove their way into my day were not time robbing nor mundane. I had an appointment with my eye physician because he is being thorough in the care of my vision. I spent a couple of hours serving as a volunteer in my church office followed by an appointment with my chiropractor who is giving me great relief with two discs in my spine that aren’t behaving as they should. But, my nicest and most delightful interruption to my Tuesday schedule was receiving a call from my son asking if I’d like to go with him to his sister’s place of employment (AT&T Wireless) to replace his broken phone. Those kind of questions from a child are music to this momma’s ears. Would I? Would I? You bet I would and I did. I even drove in order to save him gas and in turn put fuel in mine for a scheduled trip of our own this week….wow…there’s that frugal thing again….creeping right into my rearranged day.

So, my Tuesday was rearranged. My blog did not get written but the part of my heart that hides treasures created from things my kids do or say, received a deposit–a deposit that filled my memories tank. There were significant things my son said during our several hours together that made me laugh, smile inside with great pride and hope, and gave me a glimpse into his world of maturing and making decisions and furthermore demonstrate the values and integrity of the man he is becoming. I got to witness (again) how he interacts with people with great confidence and ease and use his own unique expression of gratitude towards his sister by declaring “you’re a great human being”…..

Yes, I’m learning to be more flexible because I am learning the value behind receiving unexpected deposits into my tank of memories. That ‘tank’ is what motivates me and keeps me emotionally charged. It’s from that ‘place’ that I draw from to exhibit hope and peace on days that seem chaotic and spinning out of control. It’s also a spiritual tool for me to have but a brief glimpse into the heart of Mary where the Word tells me (us) that she carried numerous treasures in her heart regarding her Son…too many to record for us to read. Could it be they were meant just for her as a mom? I like to think so. I can relate because some of yesterday with Dan is only for me and my heart.

Flexibility = 1, Control = 0. I win.

It has been just over a month since I left my last job of 10 years and while it was labeled a “retirement” I’m not convinced in my own mind that’s the box I would check on a form asking my employment status. Because I’m not officially what we refer to as “retirement age” it’s the best term to describe me when talking to others about what “I do”. So, exactly, “what do I do”?

Right now what I do is see what each day holds for me and borrowing from a very close friend of mine I have adopted forming my daily agenda on the concept “of being in charge of my own choices”. To make the decision process more complete, I have added in taking into consideration the weather for the day and what tasks might need to be accomplished in order to keep my household running smoothly i.e. is a good day to hang laundry on the line so that we have clean clothes for the week or are the weather conditions speaking to me to enjoy a walk or bike ride on the “off” days when I’m not reporting to my personal trainer.  I like to read and have found that I can enjoy a good book whether it’s on the deck in the sun or curled  up on the love seat while a good rain gives everything outside a good drink from nature’s pitcher.

Today has already proven to be a mixture of enjoyable activities for me and is the kind of day that gives me great satisfaction. I found myself rising earlier than usual (thank you to the crows in our yard), poured a cup of freshly brewed coffee, got my iPad and settled onto the couch to browse my various apps, eventually open the Bible application and feed from my daily devotional. Getting energized physically, spiritually and emotionally are off to a good start and by 8 am  I am out the door for a 37 minute walk (according to my IPhone app) and marvel at the beauty of a June morning that is adorned with the lush green of lawns, the splashes of color from our neighbors’ flower beds, and the cool breeze floating on the air as I make my way along the roadside back home to get cleaned up to join the “outside world”…that is…being around people.

On this particular morning I had the privilege of working in our church’s office as a volunteer for several hours, a new role that I have enjoyed since leaving my job. I’m enjoying learning new program applications that the church uses to track, publish, and serve the needs of our families and community. It’s a warm feeling to be part of a “team” again, a small group of individuals with a greater purpose in mind compared to  that of a secular employment position.

When finished at the church I kept an appointment with my chiropractor and upon being done there made my way to Wal Mart to fill a need to buy “just a few more flowers” for the front yard (thanks to a friend who posted photos on her Facebook wall and got me inspired—again!). Got those in pots and hanging from their poles and it was back outside on the deck for a half hour of sunshine and reading my current book. Yet, calling my name during the approach to mid time afternoon was the commitment to “blog” (so here I am) followed by some much needed bookkeeping which will soon lead into preparation for supper which, this week, are all quick and small, because this Vacation Bible School  at our church and both of us are volunteers.

One of my favorite Biblical concepts comes from Proverbs 16:9: “The mind of man plans his way, but the Lord directs his steps. ” (NASB) I believe this verse. I believe that a day  begun and established by the Lord is a day full of experiences, activities, and opportunities not only for my enjoyment and satisfaction, but for His purpose and accomplishments  that further make any and all given days productive.

So, while I “think” that I am in “charge of my own choices” I have to chuckle because deep down I realize that the “things” I choose to do come from necessity, a servant’s heart, or an obedient spirit. In reality all are good. All are beneficial. All contribute to an “end-of-the-day” ability to lay my head on my pillow and anticipate being re-energized in order to greet a brand new day and say with hopeful anticipation “good morning Lord! Where are we going today?”…grab a cup of coffee, snatch up my iPad and reading glasses…and check the calendar, and kind of “do it all over again”…..whatever “It” happens to be for Wednesday, Thursday, Friday…..you get the picture!