Awareness in Pink

October is Breast Cancer Awareness Month -and awareness is indeed the operative word. Many of us can say that this disease has touched our lives, or those very close to us.
In fact, one in eight women today hear from a doctor that they will be fighting this awful disease, and these are words that no woman (or man) should ever have to hear.
Ladies, we truly do need to be AWARE.
Because of successful campaigning, many of us can recite two oft-repeated preventions:
* Monthly self-screenings (being aware of what's not normal for you)
* Yearly routine mammograms after age 40 (though due to high radiation levels, some now advise only diagnostic mammograms until age 50)
But there is much more that can be done BEFORE a tumor could ever be detected by these screenings. That is, PREVENTION! -A strategy far less promoted, and far MORE important.
If you really care about this, there is good information out there that your doctor may not be telling you. Take control of this situation and control of your OWN HEALTH.
We've been given hearts and minds to learn and create a better life for ourselves. Please become AWARE and may God bless you with health and life as you do!

Livin' GOOD!

8-6-09

This week of rest has been unlike any other week in our 29 years. Ron says he feels almost like he’s in a hospital, under doctor’s orders. It’s so difficult to suppress the natural desire to work, and at various times, we each believe we must be making a mistake. But then, we realize that we can always do those things we feel driven to do on any weekend, but the chance for this much un-interrupted rest doesn’t come often, so we press on. And the benefits are already coming clear. We’re healing (inside and out), becoming closer than ever, and best of all, seeing truths appear, and come more into focus. Here are more insights that, this week, have been taking better hold on our lives:

God’s life: is it in being good or living good?

Doing good: keeping ritual, giving what is asked, meeting expectations of others, having a desire to do what is right.

Living good (living well): returning to innocence, trust, and optimism that resembles that of children (theirs being the Kingdom, remember?) Savoring every bite, every kiss, every smile that becomes yours, with gratitude and celebration. Living in the moment, letting a benevolent, loving authority in your life handle the questions you cannot answer, and carry the burdens you will never be able to carry alone.

We watched a popular dog trainer the other night on tv. His most challenging pupil: a Chihuahua named “El Diablo,” and aptly so. This poor creature was a rescue off the streets; a vicious, desperately frightened spirit with obviously very little peace in his life. He’d been the victim of someone’s constant bullying, and eventually was so ruined emotionally he’d been abandoned. In his new home, he dominated all (human, canine, or otherwise) who entered his space with intimidation tactics, and would not be calmed, not even by the renowned trainer. He was obviously miserable with being in control, but wouldn’t relinquish that control to anyone. At one point, it seemed hopeless. But the trainer did not give up. He was able to take the dog home with him to live with him, and in a matter of days instead of hours, the transformation did eventually take place. The first thing: re-name him. He was now Sammy (Sammy Davis Junior). And instead of shying from him, the trainer stayed up in his space, displaying authority, yet kindness and affection. If Sammy struck out, he was shown loving discipline consistently, immediately, then followed by more affection. Eventually, Sammy not only calmed down, but began to find his place among the other canine members of his new pack, and began to actually interact and enjoy others. He had found a home. Have you ever felt scared and desperate like El Diablo? Ron & I both have. And we’ve had pretty good lives. But there’s a force out there that would destroy us, and strikes at just the right time in just the right way with tactics of deception that play on our pride and fears, and can put our souls in knots, leaving us a frightened, anxious mess. We sense that the control we have (or think we have) over our lives is tenuous and terrifying, yet we don’t want to relinquish it to anyone. Yet, we instinctively know that there is One to whom we can let it go and He will not hurt us with it.

Here’s the truth: The turning point of our lives is not in deciding to be good like God (in our own strength) so that He’ll accept us (and others will, too), but it comes in the letting go. It comes in relinquishing power and control to that One who can now become that benevolent authority and burden-bearer, while we begin to live a better life. And many flippantly say that they’ve relinquished that authority. They declare that they’ve let go, and given up that control in their lives. But to know whether this is true in one’s life, we must look a little closer. What does it mean to “lay down your life, to die to yourself, to commit your ways unto something or Someone?

How many people do you know (of any faith) who receive bad news with a reaction that is so void of fear that it’s past your understanding?

How many people do you know who simply react differently (even peculiarly) to life’s bullying with a stride and countenance that lifts all around them?

How many people do you know who seem to live a life that isn’t touched by fear, worry, or hurt-who seem to be above offense and understand not to sweat the small stuff, and they see that it’s mostly small stuff?

These people get it. And amazingly, because they travel so light, they can carry the baggage of others. But what’s cool is…they want to. They really want to.It’s not an act, or something they do to “make points.” No- they feel it. They love. They truly love.

Now this is where it gets good. Him living in us. Through us. It can’t be done unless we let go.

We can live “good lives.” But how many of us live good? In living good, we live good lives, but with strength to live them well. The bush burns but isn’t consumed. If we cannot let go and let Him have our worries /fears, hurts/offenses, plans/dreams, like El Diablo, we’ll remain in control, but never at peace, and never become able to love. I want to learn how to love. I want to learn how to rest. I want to live GOOD. I want to give up the notion of living God on my own strength, and learn how to let Him live through me. This is something else we all talk about as though we understand it. I don’t. But I really, really want to. What is is to die to self and live unto HIM?

Guess that’s for another entry….

Stay-cation Sentiments

8-4-09 Rest

One week – to do anything. Work, play, plan, clean.......
The choice: rest.
I think we’ve forgotten how to do this.
And we pay for it dearly.
Not just rest for the body, but rest for the soul.
In our culture of ambition and achievement, we look down on “down-time.”
Oh, we pay it lip-service, but we’ve forgotten what it’s like to really re-charge the body and mind...and forget about re-charging the spirit. It’s hardly spoken of. Therefore, we live with “dis-ease,” in the body and in the spirit. Like plants withering (yet alive) we settle for living this way-as a Savior grieves....
Anxiety and depression are everywhere-so desperate, in fact, that we resort to medications and any other refuge we can. Even those of us sitting in church, singing,
“He is my peace...”
We say things without believing them, and without knowing that we don’t believe.
We who’ve said “the sinner’s prayer” think that we’re commissioned to go introduce the world to a peace which we ourselves have never really met.
In fact, we serve earnestly while our peace dwindles more, from all the stress of serving.
Is is because we’re more often sold the blessings of service instead of the blessings of rest? And why is this? Is it (dare I say) because the church needs our service more than it needs our rest? Or is it just that it’s against our grain to rest anyway (the church included?)

Ever wonder why the Ten Commandments are ordered the way they are-the first three surrounding God’s image, worship, and Name, and then, before ever mentioning human relations (lying, stealing, murder), the fourth is, “Remember the Sabbath and keep it holy,” (that is, to separate it and make it a priority)? –To take care of ourselves and take time to think, seek, renew, and re-vive, or we’ll never be able to allow the Savior to fulfill the other things asked of us, spiritual or otherwise.

This week I could’ve chosen to do anything. But I’ve chosen rest, and in so choosing, I hope to hear what I couldn’t hear before-when work was calling, or when play was calling, or when it was just time to get up, and move again.

What an unusual way to spend a vacation! But I’m praying a most useful, and valuable one. Hey, in a “stay-cation” economy, it’s the perfect year to save the time & money, and go on a thrilling treasure-hunt right here at home, seeking the wealth of a quiet head, a simple wisdom, and a life more perfectly-lived…

…Seeking the treasure of rest.

8-5-09
Perspective
I prayed that if I resisted the temptation to build, to fix, and to organize for just 48 hours, and instead do only essential works and otherwise quiet myself, rest and reflect, I would find new perspective-that I’d have eyes and ears that I had not had yet.
Two days have passed, and here is what I have:
I turn on the television to a station where I often hear things from God through people.
I did again-only this time, the still small voice seemed to be correcting something the person said. Here is the statement:

“…Years ago when I didn’t have much of a ministry -I was just teaching a small Bible study….” Whoa. Wait right there. I just turned this thing on and the first sentence I hear makes me want to turn it right off again. I listened through the precept being taught and it was a good one. -One which I‘ll use, and be thankful for. But those words just kept coming back. I remembered listening to another gifted teacher’s recording some months ago and her (paraphrased) words:

“I had a dear friend in another state, the pastor of a small fellowship. I was to bring my ministry there in just a few weeks, and his ministry (and he as a minister) would then receive much-deserved recognition and growth. But he was suddenly stricken with cancer and died before this could happen. He never got the chance to fulfill his destiny, and it was confusing and disturbing to me…”

What was confusing and disturbing to me was the notion behind these statements.
Small Bible studies = not much of a ministry?
Small churches = unfulfilled destinies?

See, I had a train wreck five years ago. I ran into my ego. (This is hard to write for myself to read, so if I ever get the nerve to post it, I pray that it bears major fruit.)
I’ve always felt special. But I didn’t know what “special” meant until my train wreck.
Let me clarify. Man values fame. God does not. Man values money. God does not. Man values a gift only if many men value it. God does not.
I was mid-40’s and had gifts. People said it for years. They spoke a “destiny” of greatness into me. But I was this late in life and saw nothing that resembled that destiny. Oh, sure, I had an amazing daughter and son, who had amazing marriages and families, I had an amazing marriage myself, and a relatively drama-less life full of wonderful memories and phenomenal friendships, including my friendship with the Almighty.
But I had not “become somebody,” in my mom’s words, and it didn’t look likely to happen. Sacrifices I’d made for this “dream” produced moderate “success” but I wasn’t willing to make additional sacrifices to see more “success.” I opted instead for things which I valued more, things that I knew held the real payback.
But we waiver in the wisdom that God sends. And now I asked, “Where is my destiny?”
The pain, sleeplessness, and suffering that followed, along with a beautiful transformation to truth, is for another log entry, but suffice it to say that I learned that all this time I’d been saying that I knew I was special to God just as I was, and didn’t need to perform or achieve in order to be special to Him, or to others. But I didn’t believe one word of it. I’d been indoctrinated to the world’s values: the more lives you touch, the more your own life is worth. Leave a mark on the world. Grow, achieve, BECOME SOMEBODY!

“Be not conformed to this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind.”

Since then a transformation has taken place, slowly, in my mind.
I’m beginning to believe the truth that my gifts were planted in me for beauty and fun and joy-for myself and the lives around me (none of my business how many lives that may be.) These gifts are pure and holy and to be set aside for the sake of love and not to be exploited for fame or gain. They exist to show God in me, the original Creator and beauty-maker, and to inspire that beauty in others, so that they, too, may live. I was forged a special soul, and remain a special soul regardless of who knows it, because He knows it. I’m actually beginning to get that!
So now when I hear someone despise their humble beginnings as though their lives have not always been significant as measured by man’s marks of success, I can catch it, filter it out, and receive the rest of the message undefiled.

Now, if I’d not rested so well, would I have had this clear a perspective? Maybe, maybe not.
Or how about this little treasure, just today becoming so clear to me:

God’s life is not about being good, it’s about living good.
But this entry is for tomorrow....

Aspen, CO: Nickie's Angels Race for a Cure

At the Starting Line

Heading Out - half or more of us were walking, many with our survivors.

Participants came from all over Colorado and even other states.

Fellow angels in the Race: Lisa, Nickie, Dawn and Billie

Angels on a trail to lovely landscapes...

Soothing, calming, HEALING landscapes, in fact...

Racers coming through the finish line - our time: just over an hour...and Nickie did great!

Under pink hero capes, we wore signs stating that we raced in support of Nickie, and of Jeannine Bartmess (fellow survivor/good friend/encourager), and in memory of Joyce Muhelegger, grandmother of Angels' super-donor Matt Hawley (thank you again, Matt!)

These were the survivors present -we sang a special song as each one received a rose for her/his courage.

A sincere "thank you" to all who donated, and we hope to visit you, dear Aspen, again....

Today, one in eight adult women will hear the words, "you've got breast cancer." Our goal: to make that sentence disappear. Thank you all again and may God bless you!

Our friend Nickie Singleton is in the midst of a battle that no one should have to fight. She's endured chemo, surgery, and now radiation (with more surgery to go) in a fight against breast cancer. Despite the struggle, she has inspired everyone around her by living her usual life, and being her usual self. It's time to celebrate how far she's come in this "race" with a race of our own, striking back at the hideous disease that has come against her, and so many others. On July 18th this year, we took out for the beautiful mountains of Colorado and laced up our racing shoes. We joined the Susan G Komen Race for the Cure in Aspen, and set out to deal breast cancer one good blow for Nickie. And did we ever! Our dreams: a nice day to walk, time together in the lovely, healing beauty of God's wonderful alpine forests, and even raise a few dollars to take with us - a modest $500 goal. Well, when it was over, we'd seen all of this happen and more, witnessing overwhelming generosity for our cause that continues to the day of this posting. Thanks to our dear friends and supporters, the Susan G Komen Foundation will now be $3500 richer because of Nickie's Angels! In fact, because of you, we left the race with a trophy for being the highest fundraising team at the event this year-by quite a margin! Now, that's striking a blow! (Here are our team's donation pages with donor names)
To all of you who donated, Nickie & her Angels would like to thank you from the bottom of our hearts, and we want to assure you that your gift will make a real difference. With your gifts, treatment will be delivered to someone who desperately needs it, and research can continue so that a cure will indeed one day be found for this dreadful disease.
Thank you once again and we hope to be back next year. Join us!

Martha Gets Real (Confessions of a Recovering Superwoman)

On the freeway I noticed up ahead of me a shiny blue minivan filled with active, jovial youngsters, no doubt headed to soccer practice or on errands with Mom. On the back window, an imposing white Superman Logo, complete with the big “S” for Super, with the word “Mom” etched across it. Cute. Supermom. Suddenly, an overwhelming compulsion shot through me, that I should somehow pull over this unfortunate woman at the wheel and deliver a stern warning to her about the perilous track that she was on.
The warning: Somehow, somewhere, we women have been duped. And Superwomen today everywhere are making deep, dark discoveries: traces of kryptonite in their belief systems; vulnerabilities in their once-impenetrable armor; capes that don’t always quite get them off the ground. We’re only wired as mere mortals, and maybe that’s a good thing. Here’s the setup for the dupe:
Circa 1950. Mom is elated at her new washing machine, and her new vacuum cleaner. Thanks to technology, hours will be taken out of her household drudgery-leaving her extra time before the brood gets home-time to read, visit with Helen next door over the fence, or maybe even for a nap, or precious time in prayer, rest, and refreshment.
1970. Mom is now bored with her novel, and Helen has gone to work. (She says paid work makes her feel more fulfilled, and she just likes getting out of the home. What a nice idea, and extra money, too!) Mom decides to give it a try.
1990: Mom is now a frontline exec. And PTA chair. And local Chamber of Commerce mucky-muck (not to mention soccer club fundraising queen, choir and worship committee diva, and everything else that anyone else couldn’t or wouldn’t do.) But her uniform is intact: she seamlessly emerges from her phone booth several times each day, transforming back and forth from her tweed suit and corporate hairstyle to her cape-and-boots, whenever a crisis calls for it. She’s the family doctor, lawyer, cheerleader, teacher, chauffer, maid, chef and psychiatrist. As if that’s not enough, she feels a growing, nagging restlessness inside, whispering to her that unless she’s made her mark somewhere on the corporate or cultural worlds, she may be falling short of her goal as a total person. Rearing happy, well-adjusted children are nice, but there’s more. A warm and intimate marriage is okay, but there’s more. A well-kept home and peace in life are fine, but there’s more. There’s more. There…is the dupe. What is this ….more? And what happened to all that precious time for prayer and refreshment? Can we continue to just pour out and pour out without taking time to be poured into?
In the book of Luke, Jesus accepts Martha’s dinner invitation to her home in Bethany. As He arrives, she bolts into action. So much to do! So little time! And it MUST be done perfectly! And, because it’s all for Him, it’s worth exhausting oneself, if need be. Martha has learned to be all things to all people, ensuring that others are comfortable, fed, rested, and refreshed, while getting a little caught up in her cape along the way. She serves dutifully, dependably, lovingly…yet without grasping the greater concept that others (including her own sister Mary) there that night had grasped: that of balance, enjoyment, and rest. Through their encounter, Martha finds that it is possible for things to get done, even if she takes time to be poured into. It can somehow all work out. She finds that time spent for refreshment will multiply and make more excellent that which she pours out to others.
In today’s culture, there is another Martha whose name comes to mind as synonymous with perfection, creativity, and poise in the woman’s world. Ever-prepared with recipes, home décor, (no doubt much like the other Martha!) and etiquette for a sudden quaint gathering of 24, Martha glibly and stoically models the Superwoman of today, all the while running her formidable corporation with the ease of weeding her perfect garden. Every woman wants to be Martha. Martha has more.
2005: My kids are raised and gone from the home. I cry. Loved ones are aging and dying. Mom is battling cancer, and is in need of much care and time together. Plans for long-awaited dreams, such as newer homes and children’s weddings, are completed, bringing joy, but honestly, utter exhaustion. Full-time work along with a commute from the new dream home bring all-new marriage and household chore issues which neither I nor my husband enjoy. My Superwoman outfit is beginning to wear thin. Once, in mid-transformation, the leg of my uniform got tangled with my pantyhose and threatened to tip the whole phone booth over. (And I never did find my high-heeled shoe). This would never happen to Martha. Emotional signs of burnout grow more apparent daily, and, because feelings this intense are new to me, they are terrifying. As a matter of fact, everything is terrifying. Budget, health, family… I am in the throes of burnout at its worst (aka nervous exhaustion, depression, anxiety, et al.) I have found my kryptonite-my own limited nervous system, and I just have to face it- someone else will have to save the world for now, while this mere mortal takes time to heal.
In the course of my complete recovery, I have discovered what our Bible-day Martha has discovered - that our modern-day Martha hasn’t necessarily got more. With a few weeks of medicine to set my bearings straight, and hours and hours at the feet of the Savior, I am learning to let go of compulsions to “do” and am discovering how to simply “be.” (Not “be somebody,” but just, “be.”) This has taken a radical reprogramming of my circuitry, not to mention a new wardrobe. Good thing- threadbare superhero garments are passé anyway these days.
My only daughter is due to deliver our first grandchild any day. There is so much that I want to tell her regarding these things. At times I wonder just how much “Superwoman” thinking I have programmed into her over the years - and how to fix it- how to guide her gently, safely to the Savior’s feet where she, and her daughters, and their daughters belong. I want to tell her that it matters none whatsoever who you become- only that you be yourself - and enjoy yourself- in getting there. Whether you receive attention for your gifts and potential is not nearly as important to God as whether you fully enjoy those gifts and watch with anticipation where God will send you to maximize them. I want to explain that “having it all” doesn’t have to mean tossing out your briefcase and day timer, and flopping into a tub of Calgon with a half-drunk bottle of Geritol. It just means finding precious, scriptural balance: in work, in family, in life.
There really is more. And we can have it daily. “Life, more abundantly!” –John 10:10.
So, sister, when next you feel your biceps bulge, and the impulse to leap a tall building in a single bound…
Leave the heavens to God…take a cab.

Book Review: The War of Art

I just finished reading The War of Art by Steven Pressfield (subtitled: Break Throught the Blocks and Win Your Inner Creative Battles) -a hard-nosed look at why artists, writers and other people creative find it so easy to be distracted from their work, and how to fix it. I found it inspirational, funny, and more to-the-point than was comfortable in some respects (with some adult language). A thread of thought runs through the book. It is that there is one culprit above all others that keeps us from our work-it actually encompasses most other culprits. It is what he calls Resistance. In various sections of the book, he explores Resistance andVictimhood, Resistance and Self-Dramatization, Resistance and Procrastination, Resistance and Fear, Criticism, Self-doubt, etc. Each section is short and direct. I really enjoyed that. Then, he goes into envisioning change. He pictures a true Professional and asks you to internalize the image. A Professional Seeks Order. A Professional Demystifies. A Professional Acts in the Face of Fear. -Asks for help. Perseveres. Doesn't take failure (or success) personally. Reinvents Herself. Recognizes limitations, etc. Again, concise and clear. In latter chapters, we go into how we see ourselves and how it affects our work, and many other deep (and difficult) reasons for procrastination in creation. It ends with assuring the artist (writer, musician, etc) that he/she has what it takes, if he/she will only know it.This author is a fiction writer, creator of international bestsellers The Legend of Bagger Vance, Gates of Fire, Tides of War, and Last of the Amazons. But here's a clip from the book body on his bringing this self-help work:" When I began this book, Resistance almost beat me. This is the form it took. It told me that I was a writer of fiction, not nonfiction, and that I shouldn't be exposing these concepts of Resistance literally and overtly; rather I should incorporate them metaphorically into a novel. That's a pretty subtle and convincing argument. The rationalization Resistance presented me with was that I should write say, a war piece in which the principles of Resistance were expressed as the fear a warrior feels. Resistance also told me I shouldn't seek to instruct, or put myself forward as a purveyor of wisdom; that this was vain, egotistical, possibly even corrupt, and that it would work to harm to me in the end. That scared me. It made a lot of sense. What finally convinced me to go ahead was simply that I was so unhappy not going ahead. I was developing symptoms. As soon as I sat down and began, I was okay."

I recommend this book highly. It has much for many of us who have much to give. Life happens, and it has happened to us all, but keeping tools such as this one around to kick us in the pants now and then can help us to wake up, renew our resolve, and keep on working...

Climb on a Back that's Strong (11/06)

Haven’t logged since August. (Haven’t slowed down since August!) Labor Day brought a gathering of 20 or so neighbors up to the house. It was great getting to know everyone better. Two weeks later, 40 came up for a rehearsal bbq dinner for our youngest, and his new wife. The following weekend, a solo exhibit began at a local gallery, which started a flurry through October and November, where the studio (and offsite jobs) buzzed with activity. A niece married in mid-November, and our Thanksgiving miracle arrived, 6 pounds, 10 oz, born at home to our oldest and her proud family. The last few weeks have been prepping for a church Christmas presentation. Sets, choir direction and rehearsal for solos take time, in addition to leading worship every other weekend. Some of these activities are self-inflicted, but many that we face in any given year are not. Sometimes life is just plain busy.In all of this noise, though, I’ve found something very quieting. You can still let go. As I write, I break from work on a landscape piece depicting a recent getaway spot. The reference photos only show so much, and memory and imagination must be called upon for the rest. This is where I often get stuck. But I’ve found that if I just relax and lay down the strokes, entering the joy of it all, beauty seems to come about all on its own, bringing detail and definition that I’d not have known how to bring in my own understanding. You could say that the mind disengages somewhat. It makes me think of my prayer language. You know: “Likewise the Spirit helps us in our weakness. For we do not know what to pray for as we ought, but the Spirit himself intercedes for us with groanings too deep for words. And he who searches hearts knows what is the mind of the Spirit, because the Spirit intercedes for the saints according to the will of God.” Romans 8.26-27I know that painting (or any other earthly eneavor) doesn’t approach the loftiness of prayer, but I see a strange resemblance here. It’s in the letting go. In other words, I can paint with my understanding, or let go, and paint with the Spirit as my guide. We can do what we do each day with our understanding (which we should do) and then augment it by letting go into the mystery of what the Holy One residing within would like to add to our lives. All this to say that I move about these days in a bit of a flurry, but my head is still much quieter than it’s been, as I search out the amazing wonders of letting go. If something is not working out, I simply let it go and watch as He works it out eventually. If I’m up against a deadline that cannot possibly be reached, I drop it at His feet, and behold as He makes a way once again. Trust and rest is something that you can know with your head, but to actually disengage the need to do for yourself what only God can do for you is something many of us are just now learning even after many years in His arms.There’s no busier Season than the one we’re now entering, and I, for one am ready this year to “walk thru the fire without getting burned.” We cannot stop the ride and get off. We can select wisely our activities, set priorities, and stick to them, but the ride will still get a little wild now and then. Our hope: Let God handle it. He wants to. A popular song states, “Climb on to a back that’s strong.” Yeah. Climb on and let go. I like the logic.