encouragement

A Long Way From Home – Day 2: Come Away

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After I woke this morning at seven-something to the rattling of a door handle and the insistent knocking by my toddler daughter, I felt this almost immediate compulsion to get up, get dressed, and go for a walk. It was like a record on repeat in my head: Get up, get dressed, go for a walk. I tried to reason it away. My devotional/Bible Study was waiting for me on the bedside table; I couldn’t go for a walk when I needed to spend time with God before the madness of the day began. (Yes, even my vacations have mad days, especially when I come back to visit my family.) And then I remembered my prayer from last night. I had specifically asked God to draw me away this week, to draw me away for moments with Him.

And it pinged in my heart that He was answering.

Come away.

So I got dressed, pulled on my sneakers, left my phone on the bed, told my parents and Bizzy I was going for a walk, and set off down the drive, out the gate, and down the road.

This is a road that I walked or rode every day for thirteen years of my life. The street my parents live on, that I lived on, has gotten very crowded. Houses now press close together on what used to be overgrown lots of land and a large playing field. The open space that I used to feel in my world has contracted, become constricted. Though maybe that’s just because I have grown? My feet were a little unsteady on the uneven ground of the roadside (there are no sidewalks around here) but it still felt familiar and I found my sea legs soon enough. I reminded myself of memories as I walked.

A cousin lived there.

Another cousin lives that way.

A friend lived there for a while.

The school is that way.

I passed the spot where I would get mobbed by nesting nightingales in the spring, even though the tree that was there is long gone now.

I walked myself out of my neighborhood and down the road, busy with cars and school buses headed to and fro, to the beach where the boats launch. I walked right up to the water, standing on the rocky shore to feel its cool morning air and hear its lap against the rocks, the dock, and the boat launch. I haven’t been that close to the ocean in at least two years. Eventually, I walked back up and sat on the wall the separated the boat launch from the sand and tidal pools. The bright-green mid-shallows and dark-blue deeps where the sandbar drops off just beyond were full of boats making ready to leave, a huge difference from my childhood and teenage years. Back then, this part of the beach was usually quiet, the water empty of anything but the occasional small fishing boat and sea-bathers. There was one boat at the dock taking on passengers for a morning snorkel tour. Scuba boats were loading on their air tanks. Street vendors were setting up their tents and wares in the parking lot for the day’s work, talking back and forth as they did. A man selling conch shells on the corner was cutting open water-full green coconuts, his machete beating out a steady rhythm until the tough nut’s top gave way.

Perhaps you think I have some grand spiritual revelation that I am working up to here, having been called away by God and all, but I don’t. All I have to show for my time there is an exercised body and slightly easier breathing. I just sat there, taking everything in, remembering what this corner of the world and what used to be my life is like. The morning was cool, the sun bright but not hot, and the breeze off the water was comforting. What I got out of this was a bit of calm, a bit of time to myself, some soft silent words exchanged with God, and the gentle reminder of peace in nature.  Perhaps what God was calling me away to this morning was rest. Rest that I and my empty cup and dwindling spoon drawer have so desperately needed recently. Rest and refreshment and refilling and revitalizing.

Perhaps what God was calling me away to this morning was rest. Rest that I and my empty cup and dwindling spoon drawer have so desperately needed recently. Rest and refreshment and refilling, even if just bit by bit.

Keep calling me away, God. I’m listening.

(Art) Today’s Heart-Speaker: Lisa Congdon

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A few days ago, I was gifted with a beautiful book by a dear friend: Whatever You Are, Be a Good One: 100 Inspirational Quotations, hand-lettered by Lisa Congdon. This book is simply gorgeous and full of so much wisdom and encouragement and spiritual beauty. I have taken to flipping through it daily since I received it, looking for something that might be that day’s heart-speaker and lay itself alongside the rest of the good that I have been gifted with. This, the second quote in the book, is one of today’s heart speakers:

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Sometimes, all I am called to do is to be still and love. Especially when my happy is bumped, my attitude is in funk, or my uglies want to come out, those are the most important times for me to be still, to be thankful, and to love. Who knows what miracles God will work in my heart when I do this? I could be kinder. I could be gentler. I could be more joyful. I could be better. Better than my bad attitude, better than my uglies. Better at loving.

Be still and know. Be still and be thankful. Be still and love.

For the Love of Sweet (Baked) Community

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At any point in time, there is usually one television show that I will go to for my background noise. Whether I am writing, working, cleaning, or just needing to relax, it’s a show that can just be a calming white noise in the back of my conscious attention. Currently, that show is the series of “The Great British Baking Show (Bake Off)” that is hosted by Netflix, which I think is series 5 or sommat (yeah, my partial Britishness is showing through). I LOVE this show! I kid you not, I have watched this one season of the show at least ten times through. I watched it when it aired on PBS originally and was delighted when it showed up on Netflix. It has become the one show that I will happily and consistently watch at any point in time. And I’ll probably make you watch it, too.

This past Christmas, I gave the American version of the show, “The Great Holiday Baking Show”, a fair shake but didn’t enjoy it nearly as much. Not by a long shot. Now, I could mark that to the fact that…well…British accents (English, Scottish, Welsh, Irish) just make anything better. But that would be a purely superficial reason. No. The reason that I love TGBBS is, I have discovered, because of the community and the way it is portrayed and shown. These people aren’t just contestants; these people are one big family, even though their number gets smaller week by week. They are fun, they are delightful, they are funny, they are supportive, encouraging, and helpful towards each other. They meet their challenges head-on and with high hopes (if there is groaning, grimacing, or grumbling, it is forgivingly on the cutting room floor), even if they have never heard of a princesstorte in their life (“Never seen it, never eaten it”) or if, at the end of an episode, they vow that they “will never wrap another pear in pastry again”. No matter what, they support each other. Each person who wins Star Baker is met with resounding applause and “well done’s”; those who have had a rough day are given support by their teammates (yeah, they call themselves a team, not competitors); and those who go home are met with hugs, “we’ll miss you’s”, compliments of their skill, and assurances that they will continue to make absolutely splendid creations in their future. Seventeen-year-old Martha, the youngest ever contestant on the show as of that particular season, was assured by Sue Perkins, upon her leaving the show, “you will rule the world, my darling”. And what seventeen-year-old doesn’t need to hear such confident encouragement and faith in them? And then, at the finale episode, everyone came back to cheer on the finalists and celebrate their success with them.

I love this! This…THIS is my heart for community! My heart for people, the vision of community that I am trying to foster and build in my life. A community of people–real, living, trying-their-best, imperfect people: family, friends, fellow hobbyists, peers. I want a world where we each do our best with the gifts that we have been given, where we encourage, cheer on, and clap for others even when they do better than we do, where we help each other through our stressful, difficult moments with no thought to ulterior motive, listen and/or offer comfort in mournful moments, and rejoice riotously with each other in our successes (and, yes, believe me, you will have them).

As Jen Hatmaker might say: for the love of sweet (baked) community, this is what I want! This is what life and love and relationship are about for me.

Some Truth for a Tuesday

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A friend sent me this last night and it absolutely hit the necessary heart-spot. And so I am setting it here for you today. You are allowed to change, to grow, to be who you are becoming. You are all kinds of wonderful and I am glad that you are here.

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An Invitation

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My Dear Readers and Friends,

Today, as Christmas Eve dawns and grows, if you are finding yourself overwhelmed (or underwhelmed) by all that needs to be done/accomplished/achieved/experienced in this holiday season, I have a personal invitation for you.

Stop. Right here. Right now. Take a deep, full breath, and type “Me” in the comments. 

Here’s why: I would be more than happy to share a pick-me-up, word of encouragement, give you a virtual hug, a prayer, or just let you know: “Me, too”. I will not promise that it will fix everything but that is not my goal. My goal is simple: for you to know that you are not alone, my friend. Never alone.

Love and lots of hugs,

Mel

NaBloPoMo Day 11: Solid Words to Live By

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As I have gone through life, I have found that there are several quotes and axioms and Scriptures that have resurfaced or repeated time and time again, often extremely pertinent, relevant, and poignant to just what I was experiencing at the time. Several of these have come to form cornerstones for me and the way I live my life. What I will include here are four of those soul foundations.

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Thoughts of a Sunday: Social Spoons & Gut Feelings

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Introverts-treasure-the-closeI am weird about being around people. I often have little issue with chatting with folks online but being in public with people can be hit or miss at times. I admit that there are days that I cannot handle it. There are days that I have ducked out to the bathroom during greeting time at church (like today) because I simply didn’t have the social spoons to deal with shaking hands/interacting with everyone. There are times that I have been absolutely elated at the cancelling of plans, others when I have been devastated and never admitted it. There are times that my spoons have been so few that I have closed my laptop, put my phone in another room, or screened my calls/message alerts just to avoid having to talk to anyone of an evening.

I love people. Really, I do. But, sometimes, I just cannot handle them. Sometimes I can handle them in small doses.  Sometimes I want to get lost in a crowd that I don’t know and be alone in public. And sometimes I just have to force myself to be around large groups, e.g. when teaching, and fake it until I make it. The last leaves me absolutely exhausted and I spend at least a night recharging. That can either be with alone time or by socializing with a handful of people whom I actually, deeply like and enjoy being around.

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Have you ever had a gut feeling for someone? Someone specific? That feeling deep in your core that told you to text, call, write, or instant message them and just…say something nice? Not platitudes but something genuinely, honestly nice? I have and I do, often. And I don’t always understand it.

Sometimes it comes in the morning, sometimes it’s the last thing at night. I might have seen the person just yesterday, or it might have been weeks or even months since I’ve seen or spoken to them. And, yet, there they are: sitting on my heart with a big blinking arrow pointing at them.

I don’t always understand it, but I do it anyway. I’m not saying that this makes me a great person but it is the way I determined to live my life a long time ago. I will always do my best to give those God-gut feelings and heart nudges credit and respect and follow them, whether or not I understand it, get it, or even want to. I never know what might happen or what good might be done to that person because I heeded that gut feeling.

An Attack-Hug, Disney Style!

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I can definitely say that Disney (or at least its extensions) have helped to better a week that started out rather with difficulty.  The greatness started when I decided that I needed to email someone and thank them. Namely, Mr. James Monroe Iglehart, the portrayer of the beloved Genie in Disney’s “Aladdin” on Broadway:

Dear James,

I am sitting in my kitchen, listening to my “Aladdin” channel on Pandora and what should come on but the “Genie Medley”? I cannot explain to you the happiness that you bring to my heart. Your effervescent joy in what you do, the energy and life and pure magic that you bring with your love for theatre and especially all things Disney. I have been a Disney baby from the beginning. “Winnie the Pooh in the Hundred Acre Wood” and “Mousercize” in the mornings before school, “Chip and Dale: Rescue Rangers” and “Duck Tales” after I came home. The first film I even remember going to at the cinema as a child is “The Little Mermaid”. Disney is in my blood and to hear and see (on Youtube) the magic that you and the cast bring to “Aladdin” (my husband’s favorite Disney film, by the by) makes me indescribably happy and I dearly hope that I will get to see the show live before it closes (hopefully) long from now. I want to thank you. Thank you for the smiles, the beauty, the jubilant triumph that have me cheering and applauding in my car after the finale of “Aladdin”. Thank you for the hours lost in the music and the joy of singing for and dancing with my toddler daughter. Thank you for all that you have done to make a beautiful tradition in our family fresh and alive and new and so absolutely joy-fillled. Thank you! It seems such a small thing to say but I absolutely mean. Cross my heart and double pinkie-swear. Thank you!

Indeed, I felt much better for the writing of it and pouring all that feeling out. I continued on with life, not really expecting to hear anything in return, what with the popularity of the show and all. But then I got a great surprise in my Inbox! Mr. Iglehart wrote back, and, for a moment, I turned into a sixteen-year-old groupie, bouncing and squealing. Finally, I settled myself down enough to sit and actually read his note, which was really sweet. We shared memories of favorite cartoons and “first” Disney movies and it was really nice. It absolutely made my day and a trip to NYC to see “Aladdin” is definitely pushing ahead in the choices for our tenth anniversary trip.

Then, yesterday, after picking up my mother for her visit, we went to the mall and met up with a friend of mine and her gorgeous infant son (who always gives me the greatest smiles). We went to the Disney Store and, together, my friend and I sang freely along with “For the First Time in Forever” and I felt that joy born of all the precious Disney memories bubbling up again. No one told me to be quiet and I truly didn’t care if I got weird looks or not. In fact, one of the associates working there came and sang along with us for a moment as she made her rounds in the store. My daughter got to run around one of my favorite stores and found herself some plushies of beloved “Doc McStuffins” characters. All in all, it was an absolutely fabulous time.

Thank you, Disney and all of your “family” members, for being such a blessed and happy part of my life. Thank you for the magic of memories and I cannot wait to continue sharing them with my husband and my daughter as she grows.

James Monroe Iglehart as the Genie in "Aladdin" on Broadway.

James Monroe Iglehart as the Genie in “Aladdin” on Broadway.

Giving of Your Grace

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Everyone has a grace. Everyone has a talent, a means of making an impact. Everyone is blessed with a grace.

I sat for almost a full minute, looking at my hand as it land upon the clean lined pages of my notebook, grasping a pen. I sort of marveled at the sight. here is my grace, my talent. I have a few, yes, but this is what I have considered and cultivated specifically as a talent: my writing. (I really should have someone sketch my hand holding a pen someday.)

Everyone has a grace. A grace that allows us to fill a specific place in our community of life. Whether that grace is teaching, cooking, speaking the truth, listening, organizing, or driving others around, it is something that helps others, something that someone may need. You don’t know who or where or when but your grace is important. It is needed; it is vital. Some may not see your grace, or they may not understand it even if they do see it, but that will only affect your grace if you allow it to, if you let it. I’m not saying that it will be easy all the time, that it won’t be frustrating or saddening. But it will only stifle your grace if you allow it to stifle your heart.

Grace is not only a fluidity of motion, it is not only composure and aplomb under pressure. Grace is the giving of love and kindness and honesty and help to others no matter how they may react, how they may treat you or others.  Grace is how you react and respond to others, not how they react or respond to you. I’m not writing this to preach at anyone. It’s on my mind and spilling out my fingers. Writing is my grace. I am endeavoring to write honestly and lovingly and, moreover, boldly about my life. Not everyone will agree or be happy with what I write but, at the same time, I may be fortunate enough to encourage someone else or give their soul some refreshing. I don’t flatter myself in that I might change lives, but I hope that I can be at least the smallest bit of help to someone somewhere.

Your grace can be the simplest of things, such as offering an upset friend a hot beverage to calm them. It may not mean much to you, but it could just mean everything to them. Your grace is important to life; it is vital.