Tag: faith

A Little While

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“…What is your life? You are a mist that appears for a little while and then vanishes.” James 4:14

How do I balance living in the moment with wisely planning for the future? If thinking only of today, will the future take care of itself? My heart says, “I know I’m not guaranteed another day.” My actions do not always match.

This is my tenth year as a public-school teacher. I’ve been in my current building for nine years, my longest stint in any job. Equal to the number of years I was a stay-at-home-mom. Cue feelings of restlessness.

Next week is spring break, followed by the final nine weeks. A flurried push to end the year strong is filled with activities. The toughest part of the year.

I am tired. Thoughts of, “How many more years can I do this?” begin to play over and over in my head. A desire for change creeps in, negatively affecting my mood. This describes my mindset for the past couple of weeks.

Suddenly, in the middle of the tiredness, a fleeting thought. Quickly dismissed. Did not write it down, afraid to say it out loud. But this thought would not leave me alone.

What if I continued teaching for ten more years?

I could look back and say, “Wow! I taught elementary school for twenty years!” An accomplishment I would be proud of. Imagine how many students would cross my path. But it sounds like such a long time…

Trust me, these ideas reflect the complete opposite of my recent list of wants:

  • Spend more time playing the piano
  • Search out new accompanying opportunities
  • Teach piano lessons again

At least, I think those are the things I want to do. Truthfully, at this moment I don’t know what I want to do. And that is ok. Maybe “not knowing” is a safe place to remain for now.

Whether I teach one more year or ten, I must give it my best. Allow some new life to be breathed into my teaching. Somehow James 4:14, “…a mist that appears for a little while and then vanishes,” makes that feel possible. It may not be logical, but such is faith.

Feels like I have walked in one big circle. Now back at the beginning, I need to listen, reflect, and rest. And trust that is enough.

“Come now, you who say, ‘Today or tomorrow we will go into such and such a town and spend a year there and trade and make a profit’-yet you do not know what tomorrow will bring. What is your life? For you are a mist that appears for a little time and then vanishes. Instead, you ought to say, ‘If the Lord wills, we will live and do this or that.” James 4:13-15

Waiting Rooms

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Waiting rooms are interesting places. I’ve visited several different ones over the past few days. Some appointments for myself, others for family members. Each waiting room full of people, all there for different reasons…yet all waiting. Waiting for answers, for relief, for some news.

Certain waiting rooms bring a flood of memories. Such was my experience this morning. Some of the memories were sad, but the sadness mingled with sweet faces and comforting voices. As I thought about past events, encouragement from others is what I remembered most clearly.

Other circumstances came to mind throughout the day. A room full of family and friends during my mom’s mastectomy. A dear pastor friend visiting when my father-n-law had surgery for prostate cancer. A phone call during an emergency room visit…the same emergency room I waited in today.

Today’s visit for my sweet mother-n-law was not life-threatening, but the many text messages from friends eased the waiting. Waiting is never easy, but I’m beginning to understand that it does have purpose. Waiting forces us to slow down. Forces us to place our focus on someone else. Reminds us that we are not alone.

Precious reminders come with each visit, phone call, text message, prayer.

Or in a quiet whisper…

“…Do not be afraid; do not be discouraged, for the Lord your God will be with you wherever you go.” Joshua 1:9

…even when you’re just waiting.

Lessons From the Birds

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“I know every bird in the mountains…” Psalm 50:11

On a recent road trip, I noticed a bird hanging in mid-air. Located just above the trees, its wings fluctuated rapidly up and down, side to side. This feathered friend appeared to be in an unstable situation, possibly caught in a wind current.

As I watched the bird, assuming it was struggling to find balance, I thought of a tightrope walker. I could just imagine an invisible string pulled tight underneath, its tiny claws grasping to hold on, fighting for control.

How often might I be described in this manner? “Have you noticed Kelley lately? There’s so much happening, she appears to be holding on for dear life. She seems a little scattered and frantic. I hope she’s ok.” Probably more times than I’d care to admit. 😉

Our drive continued, the bird no longer in view, yet I thought of it once again. Was it possible the bird wasn’t struggling after all? Perhaps it was simply resting in the current for a moment, allowing the wind to move its wings as it wished. This thought provided a different perspective. One which brought thoughts of security and rest.

Maybe there’s a simple lesson to be learned from these contrasting views. What if I apply both perspectives to my own life? When the strong winds come, and they will come, I will have two choices.

One-I can fight against them, grasping for control, trying to find balance on my own tightrope.
Two-I can relinquish control, allowing the winds to move me where they may, trusting that God will be there with me when I land.

Viewing my own life in this manner might also influence the way I see others. Perhaps making me less likely to analyze and more likely to offer help.

“Look at the birds of the air; they do not sow or reap or store away in barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not much more valuable than they? Can anyone of you by worrying add a single hour to your life?” Matthew 6:26-27

I wish I’d been able to watch that bird awhile longer. What happened next? How long did it remain in that current? Did it eventually soar off to new heights? I guess I’ll never know.

Lifting My Head

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“But You, O Lord, are a shield for me, my glory, and the lifter of my head.” Psalm 3:3

I have not considered this verse in a long time. Reading it in the past always reminded me of the song, “Thou, Oh Lord,” by Lisa Ireland. I’m not sure when I first heard or sang this song, but the beautiful overlapping melodic lines and powerful words are easy to recall. I can hear them in my head right now…

Take a listen. https://youtu.be/_aYRfUmGpmo

When this verse popped up on my phone today, I thought of the song for a moment, but then my thinking took a different direction. Three clear ideas came to mind-birth, sickness, and death. These notions shifted my focus to the last phrase “lifter of my head.” It’s an unusual phrase, certainly not one you hear every day.

The first thing that came to mind was a newborn baby. I pictured new parents, cradling the head of their precious little one. The baby does not yet have the strength to hold its head up. The mom and dad are the shields, protecting until the child grows stronger. I’ve experienced this feeling of responsibility with my own children as I held their tiny heads in my hands, keeping them safe.

The sweet image of newness was quickly followed by the idea of frailty and illness. Many of us have taken care of someone who is sick. Too weak to even lift their head, needing assistance to take a sip of water. If you have had the opportunity to help in this situation, you know it’s not easy. Here I’m reminded of my mom’s battle with breast cancer, and the assistance she required following surgery.

Finally, I pictured the end of life, the process of dying. A time when we are once again reminded of our weakness and frailty. If ever we need someone to lift our head, this is the time. What a comforting gesture, providing a shield against our fears. This one is the most difficult, one our family faced together as my father-n-law bravely battled cancer to the very end.

“The lifter of my head.”

In each scenario-birth, illness, death-this sweet phrase brings much comfort. Such reassurance in knowing there are people in our lives who love and support us during critical times. Even more so the knowledge there is a God who is concerned with each of these moments. And that He places people in our path to demonstrate this love.

While at my weakest, I do not have to be afraid. When I am unable to lift my head, help will come.

St. Henry’s Christmas Bazaar

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I’ve been attending the annual St. Henry’s Christmas Bazaar for almost twenty-five years now. The first one I remember took place a few weeks after our car accident and before the birth of our first son., Robert. That was a special one. We were greeted with smiles and tears. So many expressions of thankfulness that we were ok.  

This event takes place at St. Henry’s Catholic Church in Owasso, OK—the home church of my in-laws and the church where my husband grew up. We have many happy family memories associated with the Christmas bazaar, especially our kids with their Grandma and Papa.

If you arrived early enough there were homemade cinnamon rolls for breakfast. But if you missed those, no worries. Frito chili pie and tamales were on the lunch menu, as was pie. Any kind of pie you could want! It doesn’t stop there, oh no. We also had to visit the bake sale section before heading home.

The kids could expect to be spoiled by their Papa at the bazaar. He always bought too many desserts. Plus, there were toys, books, and Christmas ornaments. I still have a pair of green earrings he helped Robert sneak around and buy for me one year ago.  The kids also witnessed Grandma making crafts or baking items for the event in the weeks prior, and we always enjoyed looking for her items on display.

Probably the only thing Papa bought more of than desserts were the raffle tickets! Sometimes the kids would get to help draw names out of the wire basket and call out the next winner. Such anticipation and excitement followed by a celebration for the lucky name called.

Looking back on the happy memories associated with our family through this church, it’s funny how nervous I was about meeting my sweet in-laws for the first time. My husband was raised Catholic and I was raised Baptist. Seemed like a big difference at the time. Not only that, I had been married and divorced, which would affect my membership in their church.

I was not excited about Gart sharing this information with his parents when we were dating. How would they respond? Would they understand? Of course, my worries were for nothing. They loved me like a daughter from the very beginning.  And we’ve had many occasions over the years to attend services at both Catholic and Baptist churches altogether as a family.

Today I think about the special place in my heart for St. Henry’s Catholic Church and its annual Christmas bazaar. Tomorrow I will go once again, look at the crafts, possibly buy a Christmas gift, eat lunch with my mother-in-law, and of course, eat pie! My father-in-law, my kids’ Papa, will be missed as we reminisce over times past. But we will continue to make new memories and form new relationships.  

Who would have thought so much joy could be found in a simple Christmas bazaar?

I hope I can get there in time for cinnamon rolls this year…

Stuck in the Mud

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Have you ever felt stuck?  You take a step, suddenly realizing it was the wrong step to take. I remember having that literal experience once as a kid. My cousins and I were playing kickball, a common activity when we were together. Someone kicked the ball into a ditch, and I went to get it. The minute my foot sank into the mud, I knew I was stuck.

For a brief moment, I felt a sense of panic. It seems a bit ridiculous looking back now. What could possibly have happened? Maybe I’d seen too many television portrayals of people sinking into quicksand. You know the ones. A bystander yelling at the would-be victim to be calm and still, yet panic sets in and they proceed to sink until their hand finally disappears.

All I needed to do was stand still and call for help. And of course, help came. With a group of cousins around, I certainly was not alone. One of them assisted with pulling my foot out of the mud. The only casualty that day was my tennis shoe.

Many steps taken in this life are much less literal, yet come with much more significant consequences. So what happens when a step is misguided or poorly chosen? Certain decisions in my teen and young adult years left  me feeling trapped, afraid my life was messed up permanently.  Regret and guilt crept in, causing me to feel like I was sinking further down in the mud.

Thankfully I eventually discovered ways to counter those fears. Simply choosing to be still, although difficult, was a start. If I could just wait instead of panic, maybe another bad decision would be avoided. Next, it was time to call for help. That help came in different forms. A prayer, a simple phone call to a friend or family member-often both.

“Casting the whole of your care (all your anxieties, all your worries, all your concerns, once and for all) on Him, for He cares for you affectionately and cares about you watchfully.” I Peter 5:7

“…but there is a friend who sticks closer than a brother.” Proverbs 18:24

A friendly listening ear often guided me toward a fresh perspective. There was not always an easy or instant answer, and that was sometimes hard to accept. Yet in spite of unavoidable consequences, with some guidance and faith, I was able to take a step in a new direction, no longer feeling stuck in the mud.

Turbulence

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During my young adult years, the thought of flying brought an almost paralyzing fear.  In my head I knew it was not logical.  After all, people flew all over the world every day.  Yet there it stood like a brick wall, ready to block my path to future travels and adventures.

The one thing I truly hated about flying-turbulence.  Even when the pilot would say, “Excuse me folks, please keep your seatbelts fastened, we are expecting some turbulence up ahead,” it still felt unexpected to me when it happened.  This sudden occurrence would bring anxious thoughts and a nervous knot in the pit of my stomach.

Deep inside I knew the positives of flying far outweighed this one negative.  Reaching a faraway destination quickly, viewing the clouds from above, seeing the sunrise as you’re landing-amazing perspectives almost impossible to experience except when flying.

As I’ve gotten older and flown more often, my fears have begun to fade.  Oh, I still get that knot in the pit of my stomach when those unstable winds hit, but it passes much more quickly these days.  I’m also glad to say I am now able to survive take-off and landing without tightly closing my eyes and taking a multitude of deep breaths…progress, right?

Flying out of Tulsa this morning I once again experienced this unsettling phenomenon. I began to think about how it compares to life.  As each of us travels our own path, we will without a doubt encounter turbulent times-those events which shake us, challenge us, frighten us, and cause us grief.  A move, job change, loss of a family member or friend.  The list goes on and on…and it is unavoidable.

Those thoughts left me with questions. How do I respond during those stormy times?  Do I become paralyzed with fear?  Have my responses changed with experience and maturity?  As to the last question-maybe-I hope so.  But truthfully, the answer to all those questions depends on the severity of the storm.

As I continue on my journey with hope for reaching my destination, I must learn to live with both the turbulent as well as the smooth parts of the flight.  Yes, oftentimes the journey will be difficult, but it will also be beautiful.  Either way, I must keep flying and believe that it will all be worth it in the end.

 

“Casting the whole of your cares (all your anxieties, all your worries, all your concerns, once and for all) on Him, for He cares for you affectionately and cares about you watchfully.”   I Peter 5:7

“For this God is our God for ever and ever;  he will be our guide even to the end.”     Psalm 48:14

As We Go

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This past Friday was a rainy, inside recess kind of day.  My last class of the day is 2nd grade.  So I made a last minute change of plans and decided to teach them a game, Instrument Bingo.  Fairly certain they would at least be familiar with the concept of Bingo, I began to explain this particular version.

Bingo cards are made up of musical instrument pictures, each one also identified by written names.  Many types of instruments, representing all parts of the world, are shown on the cards.  Students listen to recordings of the instruments being played and a voice also tells them the name.  It’s a win, win kinda game.

I wanted this to be a fun learning activity-reminding them I did not expect them to already know all these instruments, and we would be learning them as we played the game. One sweet girl raised her hand, “You mean, we will all learn together as we go.”  Yes!  That is exactly what we will be doing!

That one statement from an innocent 2nd grader holds much wisdom.  As I wrote it down on my “positives” list, I began to think about all the ways it applies to life. Being a spouse, parent, and teacher are perfect examples.  Often our focus is on the big event-a wedding, birth of a baby, college graduation, our first teaching job-culminating in our suddenly taking on those identities.

Yes, those events are important and grant us that particular role or position in name, but time and experience are required for actual transformation.  And that’s what true learning is-transformation.  I need to remember this when feeling frustrated or disappointed with myself concerning my life responsibilities.

My goal should be learning from my own mistakes as well as from others who have more experience.  Followed by a willingness to share what I learn with those who may have just begun their journey down a similar path.  Always making sure to remember-we are all just learning together as we go.

 

As I Go

I am not the same wife I was

On my wedding day

I am not the same mom I was

On my first child’s birth day

So many people, places, events

Influenced who I am today

So many words, prayers, tears

Helped to light my way

 

As I continue walking along

This path we know as life

Will my desires be persistent

To become a better mom and wife

Should I choose to recognize

I am not alone in my strife

Transformation through lessons learned

Will prove worthy of sacrifice

When My Opinion Doesn’t Matter

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Music has the ability to both unify and separate.  Think about it-how many times has one single song been used to represent and bring unity to a social movement?  “We Shall Overcome” & “We are the World” immediately come to mind. The opposite is also true.  History tells us of music such as Stravinsky’s “Rite of Spring” causing rioting in the streets of Paris during its debut.

What causes these polar opposite occurrences? Opinions!  We all have plenty of those.  What we like and don’t like.  What we think sounds good or sounds bad.  Oh, how we love to share, myself included. The problems occur when respect is absent from the sharing of said opinions.

At the beginning of the school year, I have discussions with my students concerning music and respect.  After listing many different styles of music, students have the opportunity to share their favorite.  I remind them that we always show respect for our friends opinions. We also talk about how boring it would be to hear the same music all the time, and the importance of giving something new a chance.

As I considered this respectful sharing of opinions, my thoughts moved from the classroom to the church.  There is definitely a wide variety of styles and opinions concerning music in this realm. Having played piano in church since I was a little girl, I have experienced these styles and opinions on many occasions.

Hymns such as “Amazing Grace” and “What a Friend We have in Jesus” immediately take me back to my childhood.  They provided a strong foundation for expressing my faith.  As a teen I remember playing and singing the chorus “Pass it On” and listening to Keith Green’s “Songs for the Shepherd.” There was truth and power in this new style of song.  Although different from the hymns, their meanings were the same.  As an adult, songs such as “I Can Only Imagine” by Mercy Me and “Praise You in this Storm” by Casting Crowns provided comfort and reassurance during difficult times of grief when I questioned my faith.

Sadly, I have also witnessed the polarizing effect music can have in the church.  As some choose to dig their heels in for tradition, unwilling to consider anything new, the result is often a weakened message.  On the opposite side, others become so engulfed with constantly seeking something new, the message doesn’t have time to sink in or provide the intended encouragement.

So what’s my conclusion?  Personally, I find security and strength in the old, while experiencing comfort and renewed energy in the new.  I believe there’s room for both.  But those are my opinions.  If I lose focus, forgetting the reason for the music, then my opinions really don’t matter.  Truthfully, in this situation I’m not sure they really matter anyway.

“Sing to the Lord a new song; sing to the Lord, all the earth.”  Psalm 96:1

“…speak to one another with psalms, hymns, and songs from the Spirit.  Sing and make music from your heart to the Lord, always giving thanks to God…”  Ephesians 5:19-20

 

The Simple Things

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This morning I was running late for church.  Normally I arrive at least ten minutes early so I can double-check my piano music-make sure all the corners are turned up, everything is in the correct order-then I have a minute to breathe.  Well, today that routine was completely thrown off.

As I quickly walked in, I knew I had to skip my music checking system and rush upstairs to the choir room for warm-up.  Of course, they had already started so I sleeked in and quietly sat down at the piano.  While playing their vocal exercises, I found myself taking deep breaths, trying to calm the anxiousness that came from being completely out of balance.

As we headed downstairs to rehearse with the orchestra, the director spoke with kindness, expressing that she also was having a rough morning.  Knowing someone else was willing to admit that they felt off-their-game helped my tension begin to fade.  I felt a little better.

Walking toward the piano to prepare for the service, I noticed a note card sitting where my music would go.  Hmm… What is that?  Is it meant for me?  Who placed it there? Questions which remain unanswered.  Yet it was exactly what I needed at that very moment.  A simple note of encouragement-Joshua 1:9 and “Do good.”  I smiled and felt confident in the task ahead.

Reflecting over these seemingly simple acts-kind words from someone who acknowledged my stress and a sweet note from a stranger-I began to think about how many times I miss the chance to do the same for someone else.  It really doesn’t take much to brighten someone’s day. But it does require me to look past myself and pay more attention to those who cross my path.

Easier said than done I know-but a goal for the coming week.

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