Don't You Just Love Index Cards?

I have a wild affinity for simple index cards. While the rest of the world is now organizing their life on electronic gadgets and cyberspace calendars, I continue to put everything I can think of on plain index cards. No, I don't calendar my day, week or life on them, but most of the events that eventually end up on my calendar do begin on index cards - more on that later.

I've learned that index cards have been around for over 100 years and the theories behind them even longer than that. Indexing began with the monks of medieval times when they attempted to organize the subject matter in books by using some sort of symbol that pointed to a subject reference on a page and then later "indexing" that material in the back of the book in what we now know as the Index. But the reason it is called an index is because the symbol used to "point out" the subject reference on a page was named for the finger you usually use to point out things - the index finger. We, of course, use sticky notes for this same sort of purpose and, instead of calling them index notes, we call them sticky notes because they are sticky! But I digress...

Later in the 1870s when Melvil Dewey attempted to index not just the subject matters in a book but the books in a library, he invented a card catalog system that used 3x5 cards for the same purpose the monks had used their index markers. Thus these 3x5 cards used to index information became what we call index cards. Aren't you so glad you now know this important information? I am because I love index cards!

What do I do with index cards, you ask? Here are a few of my favorite uses for the 3x5 or 4x6 varieties:

1. Of course I use them for recipes. Who doesn't just love a good recipe on an index card? And it doesn't have to be one of the cute ones made just for that domestic purpose. Any old index card will do for me. I don't keep my recipe cards in a cute little recipe holder any more. I'm not that organized. I keep a notebook of recipes I use most often, so if I write a recipe on an index card it just gets shoved into the handy side pockets of that notebook. Still, I love a recipe written on an index card because it is not so big that it takes up too much room on your kitchen counter and it's a good size to share with a fellow cook.

2. As I mentioned before, many of my to-do dates show up first on an index card. I keep a stack of them in the top left drawer of my office desk and when I learn of appointments or lunch dates via e-mail or a telephone call I record them on a card. Then, later when I am through with my work for the day, I take the card to the kitchen where I keep my calendar and transfer the information. Otherwise I would be hopping up and down from my desk all day to write in lunch dates, gynecologist appointments, dentist appointments, praise team rehearsals, etc. on my calendar, giving me just one more reason to avoid my work. I do not need another reason to avoid my work. I already have a very handy 232 of them. And why do I not keep my calendar in the office by my phone and computer? Because I just don't; that's why!

3. When I teach women's Bible studies I always begin the session by asking the women to fill out an index card for me with all their vital information: name, address, phone, e-mail, birthday, shoe size (not really!) etc. I do this on a 4x6 variety because women have lots of information. I also ask if they mind praying in public, if they have children in the nursery, and what other Bible studies they've taken recently. I put these all important cards in a 4x6 photo album for each class and, voila, I have a class roll with everything I need! I take these albums and make e-mail mailing lists from them and sell them for big bucks - again, not really! I do make e-mail mailing lists for myself and use them to contact my ladies whenever I need to. Handy dandy!

4. But my most favorite use for index cards is much more important to me and the very reason that I love them so. I love to write Bible verses on index cards. This year I have compiled a set of 14 scripture passages on index cards that I have put to memory! Beth Moore has sponsored a scripture memory challenge on her LPM Blog where we select a scripture of our own choice to memorize on the 1st and 15th of every month. I learned from her years ago the effectiveness of writing your memory verse on an index card, putting it in a small photo album and rehearsing your set of verses every day, meditating on them and memorizing them as you go. So I am pleased to say that I have kept up with the LPM challenge and I have stored all these scriptures in my heart where they are already doing me some mighty good!

5. Along those same lines, I gather scriptures for the Bible studies I write and the messages I speak and put those on index cards as well. Each Bible study or message gets its own photo album and I wear that thing out as I work on building the message or writing the study. I don't just do this so I have the scriptures handy. I do it so I can learn from the scriptures as I go over them and meditate on them. I want God to teach me and change me so I can write and teach from what He's first done in my own life. And for that reason perhaps more than any other, I love my index cards. For you see they have become somewhat of an agent of change and growth in my life. They represent the work that God is most currently doing in my heart, my attitudes, and my behavior. They are personal between me and the Almighty God of the universe. They are "our thing."

Abby Had Good Day Number 2

It just thrills this mom's soul when her daughter comes home from the largest high school in the world and tells her she had a great day! For the second day in a row Abby did just that.

Abby walks in my office door beaming her infectious smile and says, "Another wonderful day!" and my hearts melts.

"What's so wonderful about it?" asks her oh-so-mature and not-so-emotive brother.

"Nothing bad happened!" chirps Abigail.

Daniel seems less than impressed and continues doing whatever it is he does on the computer (None of us know because he flips from one screen to another too fast for us to tell if he's trading commodities or sending encoded messages to a spy group or just reading political comics. Don't worry, I know he's not doing anything too wrong because my desk is right behind his chair and I can see every screen. I just can't read that fast!).

But back to my happy daughter... isn't it grand that she was so thrilled with her day just because nothing bad happened? I don't know if that means that usually terrible things happen at that huge city they call a school, or if she's just extremely content. At any rate, I'm happy because she's happy. You see whoever made the wise-crack that "Ain't nobody happy if momma ain't happy" didn't really know a mom's heart. The truth is momma ain't happy if her chillun's ain't happy. That's just the honest-to-God truth of the matter.

Today, I'm happy!

Not Without Notice Today

Do you ever have days when you feel like you must honestly be invisible? Like no one seems to even see you walk into a room? Or cars pull out in front of you in traffic as though your car were some kind of stealth car or something? Have you ever stood in a circle of friends and felt like the conversation was going on all around you and no one could even hear you when you tried to put in your two cents? Well today was not one of those days for me. In fact I was a little too noticed for my own comfort.

I had gone to Walgreens, because I don't live in a perfect world, to get a large envelop to mail one more book proposal to an agent. I was standing in a line with probably 5 or 6 other people just looking around, minding my own business but kind of minding everyone else's too, when a woman walked in the door and began to walk our way. I kind of caught her eye as she came in the door, but then, out of stranger etiquette, diverted my gaze elsewhere. But as she came closer and began to walk right by me I was surprised to again notice her staring straight at me. As she approached she said, "Hello! How are you doing?" Now I can't possibly convey to you on this blog the inflection in her voice. She spoke not as though she were simply being polite to a stranger, but as though she knew me oh so well. I was quite surprised, but, being raised a friendly Southerner, I smiled back and said, "Hi! I'm fine and you?" to which she replied that she was good too. Then she walked on by. I was a little taken aback by this interchange, but just figured I had encountered an extremely friendly person. Still, that didn't explain why she had been so friendly to me and not the other 5 people in line. Oh well.

Ten minutes later I enter the post office to mail the aforementioned book proposal. Usually our post office is extremely busy, but today I wasn't in line more than a couple of minutes before I heard "Next" from one of the postmen at the desk. I went to his window, handed him my package and said hello. I told him I needed to mail this package and watched as he punched in zip codes, etc. But I also noticed, through my periphery vision, that the customer at the next window was staring at me. She was just turned toward me and looking straight at me. Now I had already noticed this woman as I stood in line and knew that I didn't know her, but now she wouldn't quit staring at me. So I turned toward her to see if indeed she was looking at me or perhaps she had some kind of fixation with the wall just beyond me. Sure enough she was looking at me and as I turned toward her she said, you guessed it, "Hello! How are you doing?" Notice once again the emphasis on you - as though she knows me well and has missed seeing me for some time now. Again I replied with a friendly smile, "I'm great thank you," and then turned back to look after my business, a little more baffled than before. Who are these people? Do I have some kind of dementia problem and not recognize people I'm supposed to know? Why does everyone seem so glad to see me today?

I left the post office and headed straight to my car, flipped down the visor mirror and checked my face to see if I had colored paint on me or something. Nope. I found no reason for everyone to be so friendly and familiar with me. Strange.

Well that's my story. I tell you this mainly because it was freaky and because much more often I feel invisible more than highly noticeable. But today I was certainly noticed and I have no idea why. Maybe these women go to my church and they recognized me but I didn't know them. That happens sometimes, but not usually twice within 10 minutes. Whether they really knew me or not, they were surely friendly. Can't fault anyone for that. Maybe I need to freak a few people out myself tomorrow with extreme friendliness. I think I'll do that. Join me?

Hello Facebook! Here I am!

Well I've taken the plunge and joined at least half of the adult population, or at least half of my acquaintances, on the world-wide message board of Facebook. This may be a big mistake; I'm not sure. I'm trying to get serious here, looking up scriptures and writing my devotionals, but I keep getting little notes in the lower right hand side of my screen that seemingly yell out at me, "Kay, come out and play!" Just what I need!

I look at the little note and notice the name of a friend from high school that I haven't seen in ages. Ah, how nice it would be to go out and play with a high school chum. Then there's the name of one of my cute little MOPS friends and a few tempting words like, "I have new pictures to look at..." I love to look at pictures.... And next I see my own kith and kin's names popping up and I feel obligated to at least make sure there's not some family emergency I should know about. Oh brother, this is going to be a real test of my self-control, which I've already decided I have very little of.

If you're one of my facebook friends, don't take this blog as a rejection or a warning. Let's face it! I don't have to depend on you to waste my time; I'm already doing quite well with that on my own - thus this blog! I'm supposed to be sending out query letters about my new book for pete's sake!

Moving On from the Election

I'll just admit right here in the blogger world that my candidate for president did not win. While I often speak of politics in code so as not to offend anyone, I don't mind saying with pride and conviction that I voted for John McCain. I vote pretty much always based on one criteria: character. And it is always my preference that godliness tops the list of the character traits I'm looking for, but I don't always find that. To me, John McCain has proven himself to have a strong character based on a devotion to God, family and country. He has proven himself a servant to his country and I felt most comfortable voting for him to serve as my president. I didn't agree with him on every issue, but I felt I could trust him to make wise and responsible decisions. But alas, he didn't win.

I do not believe Obama is terribly lacking in character; I am only most concerned about the personal associations he has made over the years. I am a firm believer that you can tell a person's character by the company he keeps. The fact that Obama has aligned himself with people such as Ayers and Reverend Wright causes me to wonder about his judgment and motives. Will he continue to align himself with people of questionable character during his presidential term? I hope not.

That said, I am determined to move on from this election with hope and respect for the man who will be our next president. I feel strongly led of the Lord to pray for Mr. Obama, his family, and his administration. I also feel convicted to guard my tongue and, more importantly, my attitude. I am writing of these convictions publicly so that you can hold me accountable to them. Specifically, I am going to do my best to speak respectfully and honorably of our president. I may disagree with his decisions and policies, but I will not speak negatively of his character, his attempt to lead, his personality, or his leadership choices. He has won this election fairly and obviously God has allowed him to step to the forefront at such a time as this for a reason. In fact, perhaps there are some very good things that will come of his presidency. At any rate, I will put my trust in our good and sovereign God and give my respect to the next President of our United States.

Telephonaphobia

Today I've had to make lots of phone calls. Guess what? I can't stand making phone calls! Really. I have this thing about making phone calls.

It's not that I don't like talking to people. I love talking to people. But I much prefer talking with people face to face. In fact, if you want to get right down to it, I especially like talking face to faces. In other words, I like talking to large groups of people even more than I like talking to one or two people. I guess, in my thinking, there's safety in numbers. Often, when I'm talking to just one or two people, I stammer and stumble over my words. But when I'm talking to a group of people, I feel relaxed and happy. No better way to say it - relaxed and happy!

But back to the phone thing. Some people, like my parents and husband and kids, would probably have a hard time believing that I don't really like talking on the phone. According to them I am on the phone all the time. But that's because it is true that I do enjoy talking on the phone to a few people that I feel very comfortable with, like a few girl friends and family members. But other than that, talking on the phone makes me very nervous. I'm always afraid that the person on the other end of the line is smirking at me, rolling their eyes, yawning, or putting me on the speaker phone while they clean out their purse. When I dial the number and listen to the other person's phone ring, I'm imagining them looking at their caller id and thinking, "Oh it's Kay. What does she want?" (By this point you're probably thinking I've got major self-esteem issues! But hang with me!) The whole time I'm hoping they won't answer and I can just leave a message. I do about as well with message machines as I do with large groups of people, so I guess face to faces works for me and voice to machine works pretty well for me too.

I've had this phone phobia most of my life. Once again, as my parents remember how much I dominated the phone as a teenager they're probably laughing out loud, but if they'll think a little harder they'll remember how hard it has always been for me to call and ask a simple question to a completely non-threatening person. I don't like to call and make my six month appointments for the dentist, my yearly check up with the doctor, or even a hair appointment with my very friendly hairdresser. I don't like to call the women on my Women's Ministry Team to schedule a meeting or my child's school to report an absence. I don't like to call to RSVP for a party, to make reservations for dinner, to buy an airline ticket, to get directions to a friend's house, or to find out what time a movie starts. I am especially thrilled when I make such a call and I get a machine or an automated service instead. I know. I'm a freak.

For those of you out there who consider yourselves my friends and family (I hope I still have a few left at this point!), please don't be offended and don't stop calling me! I actually love for people to call me! I just don't like doing the dialing myself. And don't stop answering when you see my number on your caller id. Instead, please consider how hard it was for me to dial that number to begin with and answer quickly! Seriously, this is a phobia that I acknowledge, but I try not to let it rule my life. I still make phone calls every day and every time I survive. Because of course if people are rolling their eyes at me, yawning or even cleaning out their purses while I talk with them, at least I never know it. In fact, I find most of my telephone calls go just fine. And so I try to remember that each time I have to pick up the phone and make an appointment or cancel an appointment or place an order or ask a question. Still, when I get off the phone I feel a major sense of accomplishment. Phone calls are big deals on my to-do list, you see. They get like double credit. Writing magazine queries, buying groceries, doing my income taxes - those are small potatoes. But calling the vet to schedule shots for my dog - that's a major accomplishment and I check that baby off my list and treat myself to a Diet Coke!

Ok. I've confessed my quirky eccentricity. I bet you have a few too. Fortunately, mine isn't debilitating or harmful to others and hopefully yours aren't either. If you have a chance, tell me about yours in a comment. It'd make me feel so much better. Meanwhile, I've got to find my to-do list so I can check off those phone calls I made today. They were doozies and I deserve a nap now!

They're Just Shoes - Aren't They?

Big boo boo! I cleaned my son's Converse All Star high tops this morning! Now I didn't put them in the washer or anything. We learned that lesson the hard way about a year ago. The pair we ran through the washer and dryer never were the same again. So I wouldn't repeat that mistake again to save my life. But I just cleaned the shoes up a little. It occurred to me that if that little Mr. Clean bar that we use on our walls get scuff marks off walls so well, it would certainly remove the same scuff marks from the toes of his sneakers and the white trim around the edges of the shoes. I didn't touch the black high top canvas fabric. And guess what? That little magic square does a pretty good job of removing the black marks from the rubber parts of the shoe. By the time I had finished with them, those shoes looked mighty fine.

But I found out I'd made a huge mistake when I told my son, nonchalantly, that I had cleaned up his shoes for him. (He was having some portraits made in which his shoes just might show, so I had tidied them up for him.) Suddenly he turned into the Incredible Hulk. His eyes grew large and intense, the muscles all over his body tensed up and doubled in size and I think he even turned a little green. Now this Incredible Hulk didn't throw anything or lunge at me, fortunately, but he did growl! To skip over the dramatics that I experienced for the next 30 minutes and get straight to the point, suffice it to say that Daniel was greatly disappointed in me for cleaning his shoes.

Turns out, Daniel likes for his shoes to be dirty, scuffed up. And somehow those scuff marks, according to Daniel, are directly linked to his persona, his identity, his history, and, in short, his essence. Go figure. I had no idea. Just so you can better understand how traumatic an event this was for Daniel, let me give you a play by play of a snippet of the conversation.

Daniel: It'll take weeks to get those scuff marks back! I can't believe they're gone. I hiked mountains, worked at Target, and walked the halls of Buena to get those marks. They're a part of me!

Kay: Daniel, I'm sure you'll have them scuffed up again in a couple of days. Just take the shoes and wipe the bottom of one across the toes of the other!

Daniel: I can't believe you'd even say that! You're trivializing those marks!

Kay: I just thought you'd want them cleaned up for the pictures...so you'll look nice.

Daniel: That's it! You don't want a picture of the real me; you want one of me with shoes that aren't even mine! You don't even like me.

Kay: (pause to figure out how we got here...) Daniel, I love you and thought I was doing you a favor. I just wanted you to be wearing clean shoes, so I thought that rather than make you wear some other shoes, I'd clean up your favorites so you could wear them. I promise you my intentions were good.

Well, I won't give you all the details of this crazy conversation. But you can surely see that we were talking from two completely different perspectives. I thought I had done a good deed and Daniel thought I was assaulted his essence!

Here's the thing I learned. By the way, my son probably doesn't think I learned anything from this. To hear him talk, I'm just the mean mama who looks for ways to ruin his day. But honestly, oh well, you've heard my side already...

Here's the thing I learned. (I'll try not to get sidetracked this time!) It's amazing the things we tie our identity to. For my son, his shoes speak volumes about him. He wears Converse high tops because he likes the old-fashioned style of them. But he also wants them to look lived in. That's important to him. For me, my jewelry is something that I think kind of identifies me. I want only silver and I like it to be kind of big and chunky. My silver charm bracelet is like the story of my life in miniatures. If someone were to try to "help me out" by turning all of my silver jewelry into more costly gold, I'd freak out too. I know gold is more valuable, but I don't want gold. I want silver. It's who I am.

Turns out, for most of us I think, the little things in our lives say a lot about us, or so we'd like to think they do. We like certain colors, textures, logos, and styles and we choose to wear, drive, carry, and live in them because we want the world at large to know who we are. We feel that in some small way even the perfume we put on or the color of our nails reveals something about the person within. And maybe it does.

At any rate, whether you can identify with this theory or not, I know my son can. And right now that is all that matters. I'm proud of who my son is - bright, witty, caring, godly, and full of unbridled potential. His Converse All Stars may not say all that, but I know that's who he is. While I'm still his mama and will continue to insist on cleanliness, order, and good manners, if he wants to keep his sneakers scuffed up, so be it. After all, they're just shoes. Right?

Daniel and his beloved Converse All Stars gathering scuff marks on the trail.

Faking It

Do you ever have to do anything that you feel like you're just "faking your way through?" I spent the better part of my day filling out spreadsheets on Excel for my Women's Ministry budget and calendaring process. Believe me, I had no idea what I was doing! But in the end, I do believe I produced a product that made me look quite proficient at Excel. Of course, those who peruse my forms will never know about all the times I just had to quit the form I was working on, scratch everything I'd done up to that point and start all over again simply because I didn't know how to just back up one step. No, I had to start over! But they'll never know...
Come to think of it, I fake my way through a lot of things in life. Sometimes I still feel like a little girl who's just pretending to be an adult. For instance, I'm not sure I load my dishwasher correctly. Is there a right way to load your dishwasher? If there is I never learned it and I'm just faking my way through the whole dishwasher thing every day. I'm not sure I make the bed the right way, I doubt I bathe my dogs correctly, and I have no idea if I'm using the right cleaners and polishes and soaps on all my furniture, appliances, windows, and fixtures. Worst of all, every time I go to the store to buy simple things like hairspray or shampoo or mascara I have to read all the labels and try to figure out what in the world it is I need from these beauty products. Other women seem to just know these things, but maybe they're just faking it too.
I remember Tom Hanks (or was it Meg Ryan) saying on You've Got Mail that Starbucks simply presents those who can't make a simple decision in any other area with the opportunity to make one very clear and concise decision each morning so that they'll feel like they know what they're doing rest of the day (or something like that). I find that amazingly true. I take great satisfaction in ordering my "grande, decaf, iced, caramel machiatto with fat free milk." But the best part of all is when they call your order back to you after they've finished making it and you walk up to the counter to get it, feeling like everyone around you must be so impressed that you managed to order such a specific beverage! And yet, you know you're just faking it. You only managed to order such a sophisticated drink because it's the same one you always order and if you had to order something else you'd be up a creek!
The good news is, I don't have to fake it with my God. He knows me too well and when I stupidly try to fake it with Him, I can almost see Him shaking His head and chuckling at me. He doesn't condemn me for it, He just gets tickled at my silliness. So I don't try to fake it with Him very much. And what a relief that is. I can sputter and second guess and shrug my shoulders in confusion over and over and He loves me just the same. He knows what He's doing, so I don't have to. But I don't have to fake it either. What a blessing!

Stages of Development

Yesterday in my MOPS group (for which I am a been-there-done-that Mentor Mom) my friend Elaine shared with the moms about the stages of development their young children will go through, how to gage their child's progress and what to do when they hit a bump in the road. I wish I had received such wise advice as Elaine gave when I was raising my preschoolers. She reminded moms that they are their child's number one teacher and advocate - they know their children better than anyone else. She also reminded them of the power of a mom. "Let your face light up each time your child walks in the room," she said. "Your children notice this and it boosts them tremendously. Children, even adult children, crave their mother's approval."

As I listened to Elaine's presentation and later took part in a small discussion group on the same topic, I kept silent for the most part. When the moms talked about their favorite stage of development and their least favorite stage, I held my tongue. Those days seem like so long ago; I didn't really have the right to put in my two cents. I remember when my children were that young feeling like they would be young forever. I couldn't see past diapers, nursing, tiny tennis shows, sippy cups, and plump little cheeks. I watched anxiously for my children to roll over, crawl, cruise around the furniture and then walk. I listened for first words, sentences, original thoughts, and questions. I watched their feet grow longer and their hair grow coarser. I heard their voices change and measured their weight gains. But that was the limit of my knowledge of developmental stages. Sure, I knew in the back of my mind that they would grow into school aged children, teenagers and eventually adults. But those stages scared me, so I gave them little thought.

But as I sat among these young moms yesterday, I held a precious secret close to my heart, careful not to share it at the inappropriate time. They were relishing the sweet innocence and even the seemingly huge struggles of raising babies and preschoolers. I wasn't about to burst their pastel colored bubbles. Still, I smiled because I know the hurdles and the tremendous victories that lie ahead of these moms, even though they've probably given them little thought...and they don't need to yet.

My children are tall. They are both as tall or taller than me. They wear big clothes that cause me to have to wash many loads of laundry each week. At times they smell really strange (both the clothes and my children!). Their toys are no longer strewn over the family room floor, but they litter my office and the kitchen counter - things like Ipods, multiple purses, tennis rackets, cell phones, CDs, novels, and car keys. Little shoes no longer hide in hard to find places. Instead I trip over their big shoes and wish they were tucked away out of sight. While my children seemingly need me less, their presence in our home has not diminished, but grown.

My kids continue to grow through stages of development and these stages cause me just as much worry and stress as potty training and introducing new foods. (In fact, we're still introducing new foods!) We've been through the "she's not my friend anymore" stage and the "well, of course we're still friends" stage. We've shaved for the first time, talked about "becoming a woman", become a woman, talked about why we don't use words that "everybody else" uses, learned to select clothes that are "appropriate" in the junior department (Lord, help!), and learned to write thank you notes. My kids are in stages right now - some that I hope stick and others that I pray every night will be gone by the next morning. I would never tell those Mothers of Preschoolers about the angry stage, the "I don't like you" stage, the "come home and go in your room and close the door" stage, the dirty clothes all over the floor stage, the clean clothes all over the floor stage, the "I'll get a haircut next week" stage, the learning to drive stage, the "You don't understand me" stage, the "Could you just give me the money you'd spend on me and let me stay home from the family vacation?" stage or the stage where they can't seem to wake up to an alarm clock to save their life! But fortunately these difficult stages are off set and put into glorious perspective with some wonderful stages: the stage where the 17-year-old boy still wants to hold your hand while you walk along, the stage where the 14-year-old girl spontaneously tells you she loves you and when you ask what she did wrong (because she must have done something wrong!) she looks at you blankly and sincerely says "nothing." You get to look forward to the day the older brother tells the younger sister, who is about to enter high school, that she needs to be her own person and not follow the crowd. And you get to anticipate the day your teenage daughter actually agrees with your selection of an appropriate and lovely Easter dress.

Right now I ache for my children to get through some stages successfully. I want my daughter to realize that it's ok to wear the same dress to church twice in the span of one month. I want my son to not be offended by questions. I want my children to realize money doesn't grow on trees and it's not going to grow at all if you keep spending it so quickly. I'm trying to teach them to be more respectful, more appreciative, more loving, and more concerned about others. They're getting there...slowly.

Indeed, stages don't end when your child enters kindergarten. The hurdles just get bigger, harder, more challenging, and sometimes more glorious. But I see no need to share this somewhat daunting information with mothers of preschoolers. They'll find out soon enough. Meanwhile, I count my blessings every time I see my children pass another milestone. They're growing up...still.

It's a Dog's Life!

We watched one of my very favorite old movies last night. I had found it accidentally at Hastings the other night and was beside myself with joy! I have not seen this movie since before Daniel was born (over 17 years ago) and had decided I must have dreamed it up because I never saw anything about it again and no one seemed to have heard of it either. The name of the movie is "If a Man Answers" and it stars Sandra Dee and Bobby Darin. While many would consider it quite old fashioned and maybe even chauvinistic, I think it's charming!

The movie tells the story of Chantal (Sandra Dee) and her quest to be a good wife to Mr. Wright (Bobby Darin). Her mother, a lovely French woman, gives her wise, but hilarious advice. Included in this advice is her tip to treat her husband like a dog. She even gives her a well-worn book about training man's best friend. At first Chantal is repulsed by the idea of training her husband as she would a dog, but her savvy mother convinces her that many people actually treat their pets better than a husband. I think she's got something there! Chantal proceeds to teach her "pet" to come on command, do as he is told, and follow her "on a leash" by employing a few dog training techniques. She rewards her husband profusely, speaks firmly but gently to him, and makes obedience worth his while!

Now, lest you think I believe men are nothing but dogs, think again. Chantal treats her husband extremely well. In fact, Chantal's mother has told her on her wedding day, "Do not go into love demanding that it not disappoint you. Do not disappoint love." (Of course she says it with a smooth French accent!) She's telling Chantal, you see, to be a giver and not a taker in her marriage. And if you consider the advice carefully you will see that indeed the pet owner who wants an obedient, controlled, and affectionate dog is one who gives love and attention to his pet, provides all of his basic needs, and is consistent and trustworthy. Isn't that what is needed in a good marriage as well?

Marriage is a blessing, but it can be a bit testy too. It requires selflessness, being aware of the other person's needs, being consistent, and giving lots of love and attention, even when you don't feel like it. Like Chantal in "If a Man Answers," I've found that the happiness I get in my marriage is more directly correlated to how I treat my husband than to how he treats me. If I'm constantly holding out my empty cup and expecting him to fill it, I'm going to be disappointed. But if I get my cup filled from the One who always has living water to spare (John 4:13-14) and then I generously give from the overflow to my husband, we're both satisfied and no one is pouting over unmet, unrealistic expectations. This is a lesson I have learned, but, I must admit, I do not always practice it!

Now my little movie won't fix major marriage problems, but if you're just struggling with a little resentment, weariness, or boredom in your marriage, consider hunting down "If a Man Answers." I found it at Hastings. Pop the video in, pop some popcorn, and plop down on the sofa with your honey. I think you'll find it charming and fun. The women's clothes are fun too! Let me know what you think of the movie!

I'm Starving!

Just thought everyone should know that I am starving! Like most Americans in the month of February, I am trying to lose a few pounds before spring. I've actually never tried quite as hard as I am right now. Usually I just pump up my exercise efforts a little bit, but continue to eat whatever I darn please. Not this time. This time I've really cut back on eating. I'm watching my fat and calorie intake and increasing my fiber, protein, and calcium intakes. Meanwhile, I am walking really fast most every day I possibly can. I'm starving! Did I tell you that already? (No, I'm not literally starving and you don't need to worry that I'm not eating enough. That has never been a problem with me. I'm eating every calorie I'm allowed, believe me!)

So today the greatest blessings to me seem to be things like mealtime, legal snacks, bedtime, and slightly looser waistbands. I'm thrilled with things like tomato soup, crystal light, double fiber bread, coffee with fat-free creamer, and fruit. I'm starving!

Funny thing is that I haven't really craved the foods that I can't have - chocolate, cake, cookies, cheese, etc. (Have you noticed that you can't eat anything that starts with a C when dieting? - Cake, Cookies, Cheese, Creamed Potatoes, Canelloni, Custard!) Sure I'd love to have some of those. But what I crave is simply more of what I can have - more skim milk, more salad, more fiber rich bagels, more yogurt, etc. Interesting. That makes me think of another possibility. Could it be that if we put ourselves on a steady and healthy diet of God's Word, prayer, meditation, worship, and ministry, that we would also crave more of those wonderful things, instead of craving the unhealthy things of this world - TV shows, silly novels, clothes, beauty products, etc.? I have a feeling a steady diet of godliness breeds a greater desire for godliness. Why don't we all give it a try and see what happens. Our waist bands may not shrink any, but I bet we'll all be able to say with a holy shout, "I'm starving!" and God will smile, nod His head and say, "Now that's My kind of diet!" And then He'll gladly give us our daily bread. Fortunately we can have all of that kind of bread we want and never gain a pound. What a blessing!

Hey, I'm starving!

No Plain Jane

Tonight Abby and I watched a wonderful Jane Austen movie on Masterpiece Theater. The movie was based on Austen's Persuasion, a powerful story of the battle between love and external influences. I found it hard to believe the producers could do justice to one of Austen's novels in just 1 1/2 hours when it took a whole series some years ago to tell the story of Pride and Prejudice. However, I was quite pleased with the results. The movie was beautiful and stuck close to the author's intent.

The amazing thing is that Austen, a woman who never married, lived a rather sheltered life, and died in her early 40s could have written with such keen perception and an unparalleled grasp of human nature. While her books often depict characters who are shallow and petty, Austen herself must have been extremely thoughtful, imaginative, and deep. Reading her books or watching the movies based on them gives you the opportunity to do far more than see how people lived in the late 1700s to early 1800s. It gives you a glimpse into their minds, some provocatively deep and others pitifully vain and empty. How did she do that?

Amazingly Jane Austen never enjoyed her own success. Unless she has a window from heaven, she has no idea of her fame. Her books continue to be read with fervor and appreciation hundreds of years after she has passed on from a seemingly insignificant life. That makes me wonder about the impact we are making on this earth now. Could it be that some of us are accomplishing far more than we could know at this point? Could it be that we are raising children who will be leaders, inventors, teachers, preachers, or scientists of unique stature? Or perhaps we are writing words that will one day touch a heart and the next touch a nation. Maybe we are building buildings, chartering organizations, or educating students that will continue to make a great mark on the future. Who knows?

This one thing I do know: we leave a print behind. Whether that print be small and almost unnoticeable, huge and hard-to-miss, or somewhat ordinary but unique all the same, we leave our mark on this world. Some of us leave more positive marks behind while others leave scars. A few of us set out to make a specific mark, but most of us just leave prints behind somewhat accidentally, like the fingerprints on my sliding glass door. Still they are marks.

Considering that you have no way of knowing what lasting impact you may be making on this world today, I encourage you to at least leave a holy mark - a mark of godliness in an ungodly world. May you and I determine to leave no marks behind that will cause pain or embarrassment, but only marks of love, kindness, grace, hope, and truth. And then, like Jane Austen, we may have the opportunity to inspire the generations to come with the simple things we did to the glory of God.

P.S. check out the rest of the Masterpiece Theater productions of the Jane Austen works at http://www.pbs.org/wgbh/masterpiece/
They run through April 6th and are well worth watching.

Loose Ends

Do you ever feel like you just have "stuff" hanging out there, ever which way? Unfinished business that just hangs on you like a skirt that's losing it's hem? It seems to me that about five or six times each year I find myself with loose ends all around. I wake up thinking of all the little things I've got to do that day, but I know even then that many of them will remain undone when I go to bed that night. The reason these ends remain loose is because of circumstances. You know how it goes. To check one thing off your list you have to call so-and-so to ask a few questions and then you have to go get a certain form, complete it and mail it off. But you can't get so-and-so to return your call. You're ready to complete the form, you have a stamp on the envelop already and you have the time to rush it to the post office, but so-and-so won't give you the time of day. You're stuck. Loose end number one remains.

To check off another item on your to-do list, you must gather a bunch of things up, load them in the car and haul them to their destination. But you can't find one of the things you need to load up. After combing over your entire house, you find the item in some strange place where someone in your family, whom we would never name on a blog site, has put it. You add the one last item to your pile in the car, trek across town to your destination, and, lo and behold, the place is closed. It's not supposed to be closed. It just is. So you head back home with your load and plan to try again next week when the sign says they'll reopen, but of course you won't. By then you've moved on to other things and that load will stay in your car until you open the trunk to put the next load in there for the next deposit. Then you'll realize you've had a loose end you weren't even aware of for three weeks. Mercy!

I have a tendency, in fact, to ride around with things in the back of my car for a good long while before I get them to where they belong. I just claim that I'm letting them marinate! I've carried baby gifts in the back of my van until the intended recipient was in kindergarten. I've toted dishes I needed to return to benevolent friends until they moved away. So I just add the dish to my cupboards instead. I've hauled pool noodles, beach towels and sunscreen around through the winter months. My children don't help the cause. We carried my daughter's backpack from school around in our van all the way through Christmas vacation. Every time she got out of the van she said she would get it out and take it into the house. She never did. So a few days before she was to return to school, I finally stopped asking. Oh well, like mother, like daughter. (However, I must add, for the sake of my mother who reads this blog, that my mom did not raise me that way. This flaw is purely my own and I place no blame on her!)

Another contributor to loose ends is piles. Do you have piles? I don't necessarily have huge piles, mind you. I guess I really just have stacks. (My mom does have stacks, by the way.) My son has piles. Here in my office, which I share with him and my daughter, he has piles of notebooks, books, papers, cds, and other strange stuff. I make him work through the piles occasionally, but he insists he needs all that stuff and the best place for it is right there. I'd clean out the piles myself, but that can be dangerous. My friend Kim recently cleaned out her teenage son's piles and accidentally threw away an important project for school. She spent the better part of one evening going through a yucky garbage pail to no avail. I'd rather live with the piles for a few more years.

But I digress. My loose ends are not the result of my son's piles. They are caused by my stacks. Just last week I found a bill that was a few days late in one of my stacks. At other times I have found money, birthday cards I thought I'd already mailed, invitations to events past and missed, and a variety of things I blamed my husband for losing. Loose ends, all stacked up neatly, but loose just the same.

Here's another reason I sometimes have loose ends. Interruptions. I get started writing an important e-mail to an editor and the dogs start barking. The UPS man has delivered a package. Well you can't just set an unopened package on the counter and continue writing your e-mail. I have to open the package. I find that it is a sweet gift from a sweet friend. I must call the sweet friend and thank her. She tells me about a new recipe she tried out on her family last night. I must write the recipe down. Come to think of it, let's have this new tasty dish tonight. I must go to the grocery store and buy the ingredients. I come home and prepare the dish. Life happens and now I must clean the kitchen, find my son a red shirt, take the dogs out, and take my daughter to play rehearsal. What e-mail? Just another loose end.

Now, sticking with the theme of this blog, I've got to find a blessing in this mess. It may be a stretch, but here goes. I'm glad to say that though I sometimes have loose ends all over the place, God has left no unfinished business when it comes to me. He promised a Messiah and He sent Him. Jesus lived a wondrously sinless life, taught me how to live, died on the cross for me and rose again. He finished the job. Because He left no loose ends I have assurance and hope. I can go to sleep at night a little frustrated that I didn't complete everything on my list, but I can rest because I know He did. He will never fail me or forsake me. He is not dependent on any other thing or person. His work in my life doesn't depend on someone returning His call. He doesn't allow stuff to accumulate either like I do in my van. He has dealt with my sins once and for all. And His Word says that what He has begun in me, He will see to completion (Philippians 1:6) He has paid the debt and He has sealed me with the Holy Spirit. Though He continues to work on me, He considers me a done deal, paid in full. Glory! Aren't you glad I'm not running things and He is? Just one more reason to be glad that He is God and I'm not. He's the Alpha, but He's also the Omega!

New Things

Well it's a new year! I realize I'm a little late for wishing you a happy new year, though we certainly are still just at the very beginning of 2009. But I thought I'd take a few moments to reflect on some of the things that are new for me this year. I'm not necessarily making new year's resolutions. Those scare me. But I am doing some things differently this year, and it's always a good idea to seek a little accountability on such commitments by sharing them with others. So here goes...

For the past two years I have read the Bible through from beginning to end. That's one of those new year's resolutions that I made a number of times in years past but never succeeded in following through. But two years ago I just made the commitment and did it. I can't quite explain what a huge impact that journey through the Bible made on me. I've read it through twice now and am so grateful I did. I think I'll take another day to just blog about that sometime soon, so stay tuned! At any rate, this year I want to keep my diet of God's Word at an equitable level, but I want to do something different too. So I am trying a different reading plan, one my husband James tells me is espoused by John McArthur. I will be reading one book of the New Testament every day for a month. This January, for instance, I am reading through the entire book of Galatians every day. So far I have kept this commitment, so I have read Galatians 7 times already this year! The point of this reading plan is to slow down and allow God to really teach me something from a section of the Bible. I already grasp Galatians so much better than ever before. I think this is really going to work for me. You might consider doing the same.

For the past 5 or 6 years I have used a Mary Engelbreit calendar for my personal daily calendar. I love those calendars. But this year my friend Kim bought me a bright red calendar from Target that is much more professional and streamlined. I just wanted a change. Today I began filling in my calendar with that eager anticipation that hits me every year as I plan out the months to come. I'm excited about mapping out 2009 in a new format. Sometimes we just need a new map!

My children are getting older and parenting is changing for me. I wish I could say it is easier. It is not. My children do not make it harder. They are both delightful. But the tasks of mothering them have changed dramatically over the years and I am finding my latest responsibilities to be rather daunting at times - sending my son off to his part time job many afternoons, deciding if the play my daughter wants to perform in is suitable for her age, helping my son find scholarship opportunities, taking him to college visitation days, picking out fashionable yet modest clothes with my daughter... They may sound like simple enough tasks, but when you realize you have such a limited amount of time to get some things right before they head out on their own, it is nerve shattering! So this year, while parenting has not gotten easier in essence, I am going to try to take it a little easier. I'm going to spend more time praying for my teens and less time fretting over them. I'm giving them more responsibility (they're going to start doing their own laundry!) and expecting more from them. I'm keeping my words to a minimum, but packing them full of punch. And I'm going to enjoy my kids. They are, after all, quite enjoyable!

I have set one goal for 2008 that has to do with my character. I may set others, but so far this is the only one that is ringing solid for me. I want to be a generous person in 2008. Now I don't have a lot of money, but what I do have I certainly want to share generously. But more specifically I just want to be generous by nature. I want to slow down and spend time with people and on people. I want to give my time to others instead of just using it on myself or spending as I wish. I want to serve generously and with a smile. I want to give of myself - my heart and soul. I intend to start each day by giving myself to the Lord and opening my hands to Him in an act of submission. I want to be used by Him as He sees fit instead of mapping out my own agenda. I want to open up my home to people, share my food, and give my love. I just happen to think God really loves generosity. So I want to be a generous person.

I'm sure 2008 holds many changes and developments for me that will only be realized as I journey through it. But some changes I can determine from the get-go. I choose not to change too much. Life is pretty good already. But there is always room for growth and renewal. I hope you'll join me in making 2008 a year of counting our blessings, thanking God for His goodness, and anticipating His best!

Energy

Today I woke up to my alarm clock at 6:30. I bounded out of bed, scurried to awaken my teenage son who can't seem to wake up to his own alarm clock, and rushed to the shower. I had stuff to do!

Most days I do not, I admit, wake up with such vigor. Often I lie in bed for several minutes before slowly shifting my body to a somewhat standing position. I then lumber to the bathroom, look in the mirror and groan, and head off to the kitchen for a cup of coffee. While I actually consider myself a morning person, I still have a hard time jump starting my engine most days. Not so today.

Not only did I get an early and energetic start this morning, I've bound through the rest of my day on high octane as well. I spoke at a MOPS meeting this morning, straightened my house and did some dishes, did some research on line for upcoming articles and prepared for a mentoring session this afternoon, all with energy to spare. And as I type this blog entry now, I can barely keep from jumping from my chair and scurrying off to another chore. Man! I've got energy today!

Don't worry. I'm not on drugs and, while I have had several cups of coffee this morning (that's what we do at MOPS meetings, don't you know!) I don't even think it's the caffeine that's keeping me super charged. I just have energy. Maybe it can be attributed to the fact that I slept until 12:00 noon Saturday - something I haven't done since I was a teenager. You see, we had a terrible wind storm all night Friday and I could not sleep. The winds were raging at more than 50 miles per hour and things were flying! So I finally went to sleep about 6:00 am. Consequently I slept in until 12:00. What a luxury. I knew I had really slept in late when I finally got up and found my 17-year-old son was already out of bed. Oh my!

But that was days ago. No, I don't think my energy today is attributed to sleeping until noon on Saturday. Too much has gone on since then. Here's what I think. I think I have simply been blessed with a clear since of purpose and drive today. So many times I let distractions, emergencies, and "little things" cause me to lose focus. Losing focus causes me to bog down on the insignificant and trivial. Bogging down causes me to get sluggish and lazy. What a mess. But today, I have managed, by the grace of God and a good and blessed quiet time with the same, to stay focused. Thus, I have energy to do just what He has called me to do.

Energy. What a blessing! Especially the older I get!

The Voice in My Ear

Last night my church choir finished cutting our second Christmas CD. Until last year I had never been a part of any kind of audio recording session. It is a fascinating and invigorating process. It is also rather tedious, but the results are awesome.

When we record the music, we use a process the sound engineer called "punching in." That means that what you hear when you listen to the CD is actually the choir's gazillion different attempts to sing the song, all edited and spliced and mashed together! Here's how it works:

Everyone in the choir has their own transistor radios tuned to a specific FM frequency. We're all positioned in the choir loft in the sanctuary and the engineer is in the choir room behind us with all of this fancy smancy equipment. He has positioned a few high powered microphones and a video recorder in front of us so he can capture our sound and see what we're up to. When it's time to sing, the music comes to us via our transistor radios. For optimal listening and blending, we have one ear phone on and one off. The music comes only through our headphones; the sanctuary is completely quiet, other than our voices. We sing along with the music until he stops us, tells us what all we need to do differently (better cut-offs, better attacks, better pronunciation, etc.), and tells us where we'll start again. He also tells us where we'll "punch in." That's the point in the music from which he is actually trying to record a good take. He's giving us all these directions through our radios. We don't actually see him. We just hear him through one headphone speaker. The result is that he sounds like he is in your head. So the conversation in your head may go something like this:

Music: la, la, la, dee dah!
Choir: La, la, la, dee, dah!

Suddenly the music stops.

Male voice in my head: Choir, we're going to stop right there for now. You are doing a great job! That's some good singing. From those two pages, we're going to keep measures 72 and 73 (For those of you who are not musicians, 2 measures is not much - usually a couple of words!). Men I need you to smile more at measure 71 (that's musician speak for 'you're going flat there'). Everyone watch your cut offs at measures 68, 70, and 74. There's also a soprano who sounds angry on the crescendo in measure 70. And we have a tenor with a hang over in measure 74. We're going to start again at measure 58 and we're going to punch in at 62.

Music: la, la, la, dee, dah!

Male voice in my head: Choir, sing along!

Choir: la, la, dee, la, dee, dah!

Music stops.

Male voice in my head: Choir that was great! You did measures 68-71 great that time and since you just repeat that at measure 73-76 we're just going to cut and paste 68-71 on top of 73-76! Give me just a minute to edit that in! (This is where the engineer does his magic and earns his big bucks!) Okay! Let's do all that over again; we still need to get the cut offs on 78 and 80!

And so the process goes. Let me just tell you, if you haven't already figured this out, this whole process does some strange things to your head. Hearing a male voice in my female head telling me what I've done well, what I need to do better, and what I'm going to do next is a little unnerving! It's as though he has crawled in my head, plopped down in the commander's chair and taken over. I want to please this voice and heed it's directions. It has unusual power over me.

Can you imagine what it would be like if all of life were somewhat like this? What if we could hear the Holy Spirit as clearly as I can hear Mark (that's our sound engineer's name) in my left ear? What if I were to hear Him say something like this:

Holy Spirit: Kay, that was great the way you offered to fix your husband a sandwich and bring him a bottled water. You were really kind when you told him what a good job he's doing in the yard. But right after that you complained about how long this yard work is taking. You sounded a little harsh. You need to work on your "cut offs." Why don't you go back outside and try that whole scene again. This time a little softer too. We'll "punch in" right after you offer the sandwich and give the compliment.

Of course, to me, the greatest benefit would come if the Holy Spirit could also do a little cutting and pasting so I could get a little more mileage out of the few things I do well! It'd be nice if he would say something like:

Holy Spirit: Kay, it's time to fix dinner for you family. Now yesterday you did such a good job of preparing a tasty and nutritious meal. And you seemed to really care about making the meal time special for your kids and husband. But today I see you pulling out the wieners and buns. Tell you what, you work on your attitude and I'll just cut and paste yesterday's meal into today. While we're at it, I'll also cut and paste all the laundry you did yesterday too. Now give me just a minute to edit all this in.

Kay: Thanks Holy Spirit! I feel my attitude improving already!

Unfortunately it doesn't work that way! But here's one thing I think we all might be missing out on that does indeed happen. God does speak to us. He speaks to us loud and clear quite often. He speaks to us through His Word. He speaks to us through nature. He speaks to us through other people. And, yes, I believe He even occasionally speaks to us through a still, small voice that is almost audible.

Perhaps the problem is not that He doesn't speak to us; the problem is we're not listening. I imagine if I walked through a day or two with Mark's voice in my left ear, I would soon learn to "tune him out." Mark is extremely pleasant and very good at sandwiching every bit of constructive criticism between a couple of compliments or encouraging words, but still... Who wants to let someone else call the shots for very long? Our two recording sessions were four hours each and at the end of those sessions I was tired of listening to Mark! In fact, it was tempting at times just to turn off my radio so I wouldn't even have to hear him. Could it be that we sometimes, maybe even often, do that with the Holy Spirit? He speaks to our hearts, but we've tuned Him out or even turned Him off?

I think the remedy to this problem is to realize what a precious gift the Holy Spirit is. Only occasionally did the Holy Spirit take up residence in the lives of Old Testament believers. Most of our OT heroes had to walk by faith without the assistance of the ever-present Holy Spirit. Wow! But we have been given the very Spirit of God to teach us, pray for us, speak to us, lead and guide us, comfort us, and convict us. What a treasure!

Today I'm thanking God for sending His Spirit to fill and lead me. I'm thanking Him for the work He does in my life even when it must be like pulling teeth at times. I'm thanking Him for speaking to me and I'm promising to tune in and listen better.

One more thing. Mark, our sound engineer, didn't waste any time speaking just to be heard. He was trying to help us produce a quality music CD that we can be happy with. He didn't sing a note himself, but he was guiding, instructing, and encouraging us so that we would sing our very best. When we would obey his directions, he could take the sounds we produced and put them together to make a masterpiece that we could not have made on our own. But when we clung to old patterns, didn't heed his instructions, and got sloppy, we gave him nothing to work with. If we had done that enough, I imagine even good-natured Mark would have just given in and let us produce a less-than-acceptable CD. That would have been a shame.

When God speaks to us, he doesn't just speak to be heard either. He speaks to be obeyed. He knows what He is doing and we can trust His expertise. So let's not just listen to hear His voice; let's listen to obey His commands. Imagine the quality product He can produce. After all, He is truly the Master Engineer.

Looking for Bluebirds

When I was a child I loved to look for red birds. They were always easy to spot and seemed to be most everywhere. While the red feathers are dazzling, the spotting of red birds became fairly commonplace after awhile. At one time my mother even told me I could make a wish each time I saw a red bird. Then one day I realized I was making wishes left and right - red birds were too abundant to be rare.
I didn't really even know blue birds existed until I was an adult. Sure, there are songs about bluebirds, but I thought they were mythical creatures like unicorns. Then one day I saw my first bluebird. It was so tiny, so fast and evasive. I tried to point it out to my children, but they couldn't seem to land their eyes on it. In fact, I remember now that my mother was spotting bluebirds before I was able to. Perhaps it takes adult eyes to see bluebirds. Mmmm.
I began to see a bluebird or two when I would play golf at the country club we belonged to and also when I would occasionally walk at the city park. Once again they were hard to spot. And just when one would come into focus, it would quickly fly on. They certainly didn't make themselves readily available for casual observers. Only those truly looking for them would spot these flashes of glorious blue.
And bluebirds are truly beautiful. The ones I spotted in Texas were delicately small and very bright blue. Somehow, just seeing one would magically lift my spirits. Indeed, I couldn't have been more enchanted had I seen that mythical unicorn!
Well, by now you know that I am no birdwatcher. I love to go hiking and I do notice many birds on my adventures, but I don't know a blackbird from a crow. (Or are they the same thing?) I just happen to love sighting bluebirds. And here's why.
Somewhere along the way, it began to feel that sighting a bluebird was a sort of reminder of God's wonderful blessings. Each time I would see one of these tiny blue creatures flying by I would be struck with awe by such a small, but significantly beautiful, creation of God. It would make me plum happy! I think sometimes, actually pretty often, God just wants to do something special for each of us. I believe He delights in delighting us! And I began to feel like every time I saw a tiny bluebird God was saying to my heart, "Look, Kay! Look at this beautiful little blessing I've sent your way today! What do you think?" And I began to tell God, each time he blessed me with a bluebird sighting, "You are something else! You are good!"
And so, I am calling my blog "Bluebird Sightings." Not because I will talk about bluebirds often or because I hope to attract other lovers of bluebirds to this blog. That really is totally insignificant to me. I've given my blog this apt title because I want to write about the little blessings God sends my way on ordinary days. While I may not write an entry every day, I'm sure there are blessings I could report each day. But, like sighting bluebirds, I must sometimes be very diligent to see them.
So won't you join me in looking for bluebirds? No, not the bright blue flashes in the sky, but the supernatural hand of God in your common life. Let's make it a point to look for these little miracles, these gentle blessings, these tender mercies each day. And let's point them out for others to see. Maybe if we point them out often enough, they will develop sharp enough eyes to see them for themselves.