Keep On Foddering

You ever have a day when you just need to smile? A day when you don't have the oomph to really want to do much of anything? A day when you simply need a break from all the "stuff" of life? A day when you just need to smile? Maybe even a chuckle or two? Or perhaps a chortle? Or a guffaw? Or a belly laugh? Or ... or ... or ... just a simple smile that comes from knowing that you're alive? I have days like that ... days when the cares of life become so heavy and weigh me down so much that I need to take a step back, throw caution to the wind, and smile. I need to smile because I'm breathing. I need to smile because I'm helping someone else. I need to smile because I'm working. I need to smile because my children love me. I need to smile because my granddaughter is gorgeous and a genius. I need to smile because I have friends who stand by me. I need to smile because I'm alive.

Last week, a friend I used to work with said something interesting to me, something that has caused me to smile many times since we chatted over lunch one day. She said, "I know that anything I say to you is fair game and could end up becoming subject matter for your blog. That's how your brilliant mind works, my friend, always seeing stories in every word and every situation. You're a natural born storyteller, and all the rest of us are just fodder for the millions of stories you have yet to write." Now first, to all of you who know me, I never use names when I write about you, so please don't be afraid to talk to me ... seriously. Second, some of you actually want me to write about you, even clamor for me to pen about something you've said or done (which is quite funny to me, by the way). Third, I can't read, write, hear or speak the word "fodder" without smiling ... go ahead, try to say fodder without smiling ... it's flipping impossible.

My last two posts have been pretty intense ones, and since today was a day when I was completely overwhelmed with life and needed to lay my burdens aside for a bit and just smile, I decided to let the word fodder be the fodder for my post. Come on, even though that is a super long sentence, I know that you smiled when you read the word fodder two times in quick succession. I've written a ton of words in this blog over the last five years, and I've written a lot about words as well. I've talked about some of my particular favorites, like duly and dapper and dandelions ... don't judge me too harshly ... yes, I love the word dandelions (perhaps because it makes me think of my daughter, Meg, who called them dandeliners for many years). Writing about words makes me so very aware of the power of words ... words can uplift and encourage, but they can also hurt and destroy ... words are powerful, friends, and we would all do well to use them wisely and only in love.

So to those of you who provide me so much fodder for my writing, thank you ... and please do, please do keep on foddering!  

Dear Readers

First, thank you to all of you who have sent emails and messages of support and encouragement following last night's post, and to those of you who are sharing the link to the video. It's helping other people, and that was the goal of all who were involved in the project ... to help those who are struggling to find a reason to keep on living, to help those who feel so alone, to help those who doubt that God really does love them just as they are. And the video is doing just that, friends, it sure is.

Last night, a friend called me to ask about a text message I had sent her earlier in the evening ... a text I meant to send to another friend who has the same name. I've chuckled several times today about my mistake ... one friend who kept saying she didn't get the text I sent, and the other friend who thought I was losing it when she replied to my wrongly sent text and I didn't have a clue what she was talking about. Before the conversation ended, we were both in tears as I shared some of the responses I've gotten concerning the video. My friend said something as we talked that pierced me to the core of my being, something I think I may well ponder for a long while to come.

"If you don't think God is on your side, Terrie ... how can you doubt that He is on your side and that He loves you? He is so on your side!"

It was when I clicked off of the call with my friend that I knew what I needed to post tonight ... tonight's post simply MUST share some of the brave, courageous, heart-warming, heart-wrenching comments I've received since posting the video yesterday. My prayer is that your heart will be touched as mine has been ... that God will spark a fire deep within you to reach out to others, to share yourselves openly with those around you who are aching to know they are worth fighting for ... to know they are loved ... to know they are treasured.

"I'm 13 years old and all I want to do is die because I'm not normal like my friends. My uncle sent me this video. Maybe it will get better for me too."

"I am Mike. I want to die. I cheated on my wife 5 times, and I wish I could die."

"I am 62 years old and my sister committed suicide 25 years ago. My family was never the same after she died. She was gay and couldn't live with the guilt and the shame that our family made her feel. I will never forgive myself for not loving her for her and nothing else. Thank you for being so brave and telling your story. Lives will be saved and people will keep living. Thank you so much, Terrie."

"My name is Ann and I am 31 years old and I have three children. My husband died two years ago and I've been having an affair with a married man for the last six months. I hate myself so much and I often think of taking my life. The only reason I don't is because I don't know what it would do to my children if I did."

"Being gay and over 50 and living in a small town in Arkansas means that I have lived in the closet my whole life. I can't move because I take care of my parents who are 84 and 85 years old. My partner lives in the next town over and we have to meet in another town where no one knows either of us. The first time I considered killing myself was when I was 18. Thank you for sharing your story, Terrie. I don't know you, but I know this video will help a lot of people." 

"I hate myself because I am fat and ugly. Everybody thinks I am gross and stupid. I wish I had never been born."

"Terrie I have no idea who you are but I love you. My cousin committed suicide last year. She was 19. I wish she could have seen this movie you made. I think it would have helped her live."

"I hate myself because I'm gay. I don't want to be. I'm a jock and if my teammates knew, they would kill me. My father is a elder at church. I would rather die than disappoint my father."

My prayer tonight, dear readers, is that you just read those stories with your hearts ... that your ears are wide open to the message ... God loves all of us ... and we need to love one another like He loves. When I was chatting today with the friend who called me last night, I told her about the 13-year-old girl whose message had touched me so deeply. My friend's reply? "One saved, hundreds to go."

To you, sweet 13-year-old young girl ... you've gotten inside my soul ... please, please, please don't give up. Ask for help. You've got a wonderful, exciting, precious life ahead of you ... it really will get better, I promise, I promise, I promise. And to you, my dear readers ... "One saved, hundreds to go," ... what do you say we let God use us all together to help those hundreds? 

Figuring it Out

When my doctor sat in a chair across from me three years ago and told me I shouldn't be alive, I remember climbing into my car and saying aloud, "I wonder why I didn't die?" I was seriously overweight, my blood sugar was incredibly high, my A1c was almost 15, and my cholesterol and triglycerides were off the charts. My doctor was very correct in her assessment when she said that by all medical odds, I should have died. But ... here I sit on my couch typing words into my computer. And the same question I had that day when I climbed into my car lingers with me still ... "I wonder why I didn't die?"

A couple of weeks ago, I was sitting at the counter in the kitchen at work eating my lunch when a gal came in and put a bag of popcorn in the microwave. We chatted until the kernels finished popping, and then I watched as she proceeded to open the bag and dump a ton of salt on the steaming popcorn. I didn't say a word, but I must have had a look on my face because she said, "Yeah, I know I'm probably gonna get high blood pressure." We then began to chat about cholesterol and blood pressure, and I said, "I shouldn't be here, you know ... I shouldn't be alive." And as my friend replied, "I know," my lingering question became a statement. "I don't know why I am ... I don't know why God didn't just take me then." My friend didn't hesitate even for a second as she said matter of factly, "That's what you have to figure out. And you have to ask Him. You have to figure it out."

This has been a lousy weekend ... a really lousy weekend. Tonight, trying to figure anything out seems impossible to me, especially something as big as why I didn't kick the bucket three years ago or just what it is God wants to tell me or what lesson He's trying to teach me from the events of yesterday and today ... impossible. Tonight, I feel like I remember feeling when I fell off the swing on the playground when I was a kid ... like the wind has been knocked out of me and I can't breathe.

Breathe ... maybe that's part of figuring it out ... just breathe.

6-Year-Old Wisdom

We got a lot of snow here in Kansas City last Thursday ... a whole lot of snow. And it looks like there is more on the way next week, too. Yay ... not. You see, I'm not crazy about snow, unless I can stay in my house and look at it through the window. But my big dog Julie ... well, now, that old girl loves the snow, always has and always will. So when she saw our back yard filled to overflowing with the white stuff last Thursday, she spent most of the day crying and begging to go outside and play in it. But Julie has some significant arthritis in her hips, and the snow was really deep ... and it was very cold out that day. She was so sad, however, that I finally caved in and let her go out and play a couple of times for just a few minutes each time. She ran and hopped and buried her nose in the snow, tail wagging, sheer happiness etched on her sweet, old dog face. But after dinner that evening, my old Julie girl was whining and limping and hurting from her romping in our snowy yard. I've been taking her out on a leash to go potty because she's still moving slowly today and the snow hasn't melted much at all. It's hard for me to watch her sit at the window and look longingly outside, but it's even harder to know that her bones will hurt even more if I let her go outside and play.

I'm sure many of you have read the story that follows, but it's one that I never tire of reading. Especially on a day like today when the actions of people cause me to wish we all were more like dogs. Be sure that you check out the picture at the end, too ... I think the world would be a much better place if we all lived and loved like precious little kids and sweet old dogs ... I sure do.

 

"A Dog's Purpose ... (from a 6-year-old)

Being a veterinarian, I had been called to examine a 10-year-old Irish Wolfhound named Belker. The dog's owners, Ron, his wife Lisa, and their little boy Shane, were all very attached to Belker, and they were hoping for a miracle.

I examined Belker and found he was dying of cancer. I told the family we couldn't do anything for Belker, and offered to perform the euthanasia procedure for the old dog in their home.

As we made arrangements, Ron and Lisa told me they thought it would be good for six-year-old Shane to observe the procedure. They felt as though Shane might learn something from the experience.

The next day, I felt the familiar catch in my throat as Belker's family surrounded him. Shane seemed so calm, petting the old dog for the last time, that I wondered if he understood what was going on. Within a few minutes, Belker slipped peacefully away.

The little boy seemed to accept Belker's transition without any difficulty or confusion. We sat together for a while after Belker's death, wondering aloud about the sad fact that animal lives are shorter than human lives. Shane, who had been listening quietly, piped up, ''I know why.''

Startled, we all turned to him. What came out of his mouth next stunned me. I'd never heard a more comforting explanation. It has changed the way I try to live.

He said, ''People are born so that they can learn how to live a good life -- like loving everybody all the time and being nice, right?'' The six-year-old continued, ''Well, dogs already know how to do that, so they don't have to stay as long.''

Live simply.

Love generously.

Care deeply.

Speak kindly.

Remember, if a dog was the teacher you would learn things like:

When loved ones come home, always run to greet them.

Never pass up the opportunity to go for a joyride.

Allow the experience of fresh air and the wind in your face to be pure ecstasy.

Take naps.

Stretch before rising.

Run, romp, and play daily.

Thrive on attention and let people touch you.

Avoid biting when a simple growl will do.

On warm days, stop to lie on your back on the grass.

On hot days, drink lots of water and lie under a shady tree.

When you're happy, dance around and wag your entire body.

Delight in the simple joy of a long walk.

Be loyal.

Never pretend to be something you're not.

If what you want lies buried, dig until you find it.

When someone is having a bad day, be silent, sit close by, and nuzzle them gently.

There comes a time in life, when you walk away from all the drama and people who create it. You surround yourself with people who make you laugh, forget the bad, and focus on the good. So, love the people who treat you right. Think good thoughts for the ones who don't. Life is too short to be anything but happy. Falling down is part of LIFE ... getting back up is LIVING.

Have a great life."

Together is Powerful

I've never been much of a football fan, unless of course you count playing touch football with the kids in the neighborhood when I was growing up back in Tennessee. I don't want to brag, but I was a pretty decent quarterback in my day ... yep, I could throw a perfect spiral pass like no other kid on the block. Granted, we were all around 12 or 13 years old, but I was still a darn good quarterback, thank you very much. Other than our neighborhood games and going to the games at Red Bank High School, I just never really watched a lot of football ... I was always more a fan of baseball than football. I'm not sure why that's the case, either, except maybe because my dad loved baseball. In fact, I don't know that I can recall ever watching a football game with Daddy, but I remember tons and tons of times when he and I would watch the Atlanta Braves on television. Now that I think about it, I'm sure that's why I was never really into football ... I worshipped the ground my dad walked on and because Daddy was a baseball guy, I was a baseball girl.

Because my knowledge about football could fit into a thimble, I was more than a bit concerned about my ability to effectively edit the advertising materials for the Kansas City Chiefs football team when my company won their account last year. I remember wondering how in the world I would know if certain information contained in the ads was correct or not, thinking that I needed to take a crash course in football to bring myself up to speed on the sport. To say that I was more than overwhelmingly happy to discover that most of the materials I edit for the Chiefs has way more to do with marketing than with football would be perhaps the biggest understatement of my editing career. For example, today I spent a couple of hours working on a brand guidelines book for the team ... and not once in those couple of hours did I need to know anything about the game of football. Here's kind of a weird thing, though ... I really, really, really like working on the Chiefs account even though I know little to nothing about football. I like editing advertising materials for the Chiefs because they are fun and pretty ... yes, I said pretty ... the ad stuff for the Chiefs is pretty with the team's signature red and gold colors.

I have no idea how many times I've read the tag line for the marketing materials for the Chiefs over the last months, but trust me when I say I've read it a lot. And each time I read the words, I always pause and ponder the truth that is contained with them ... a truth that is way more about life than it is about football. I'm not sure why, but today when I read the tag line, tears filled my eyes as it struck me how very important the words are ... how much meaning is packed into them ... how life-changing they can be. I was so moved by the words today that I repeated them aloud several times as I sat at my desk sniffling as I wiped the tears from my cheeks ... guess it was a good thing that most of the people who sit near me were out today. "Together is powerful." Yep, that's the tag line ... "Together is powerful."

As I sit on my couch typing, my eyes are once again brimming with tears ... not tears of sadness, but tears of acknowledgment, tears of understanding, tears of gratitude. See, here's the thing ... six months ago, I didn't get just how true that statement really is, and tonight I do. Tonight, I get that doing life together is so very powerful ... loving each other, caring for each other, helping each other, listening to each other ... together is so very powerful indeed. There's a strength in standing together, a strength that comes when you realize that you aren't alone ... that someone is cheering for you, believing in you, urging you to be the best person you can possibly be. I have a special item hanging in my cubicle, a large frame that contains several different messages written on note cards and signed by the individuals who wrote them. Each time I look at it, I am keenly aware that I am not alone ... I am keenly aware of the what the power of together can do.

Together really is powerful, friends ... it really, really is.

Guest Blog Post # 3

It's snowing like crazy here in Kansas City today ... the weather guys got it right this time. So I (along with most of the people from my office) am working from home today. But while I'm taking a break from proofing mountains of Sonic menus ... I sure would like to have a double bacon cheeseburger, an extra-large order of tots and a delicious Reese's Blast ... I decided to go ahead and post an amazing entry from my next guest blogger. And to the others of you whom I've asked to guest blog, I can't wait to share your words with my readers as well. I'm totally digging this guest blogger idea ... totally digging it in a big way.

Today's guest blogger is a gal who is a savvy and smart businesswoman, and I have a ton of respect for her in that regard. But she is also a mother, a grandmother, a wife and a friend, and in those areas, my respect level for her is off the charts. She has been a constant source of encouragement to me over the last months, and her faith in God is an inspiration to me every single day. Her message today is one that we all need to hear, no matter who you are or where you may be on your journey in life. Read with your eyes, friends, but listen with your hearts.  

"When Terrie asked me to guest write for her blog, I was excited, but a little nervous. I am verbally inclined, definitely not a professional writer, and I wasn’t sure what I would have to say that would be worth sharing. So I figured I would think about it, ride it out, and surely something important would present itself.  The thing is, I didn’t have to come up with something significant to talk about. God took care of that part. He always does.

A few days ago, a friend of mine said to me, “I’m tired of being judged. I’m tired of being put down. I’m ready to stand up for myself.” Beautiful words to hear from someone who has seriously judged herself, and has let others impact her view of her worth. Beautiful to see the physical change in her posture – shoulders back, standing straight, chin up; the strength in her voice; the sparkle in her eye; the will to survive, that frankly, was barely there only a few short months ago; the desire to thrive.

Her ongoing transformation doesn't mean that she thinks she is sin free, or that she is right or righteous. It does not mean that others’ opinions and words still don't hurt – they do. It doesn't mean that she has it all figured out – sorry, but she never will. It simply means that she is starting to believe what she knows deep down is true. Although hard for her to accept – God loves her!

And God loves you – whether you think you deserve it or not, or whether anyone else thinks you do. He made you – all of you. The things you love about yourself, the things that others love about you, and the things you wish you could change (long nose, wrinkles, big belly, sore feet) – you get the picture. Not to trivialize, because we all know we have much bigger struggles than ugly toes! The point is, we are all much more valuable than the sum of our parts, so don't pick your parts apart!

NONE of us are perfect. We are all sinners. Sometimes we place a hierarchy on sin. We trivialize our sins and focus on the indiscretions of others. Or we are so hard on ourselves that we can’t see how we can ever overcome or come to live with our sins. God expects us to acknowledge our sins and pray for strength. He also expects us to love ourselves, warts and all, and to love each other.

So for my friend and all her friends, just focus on being the Best Version of You. Some days it won’t feel like it’s enough, but some days it will be just right. Don't forget how precious you are in Jesus’ eyes. Stop comparing yourself to others. Accept yourself the way you are. And listen to God’s opinion of you."

The Coming Storm

When we moved to Kansas City almost 23 years ago, my three children had never seen snow. We left Tennessee when Matt was four years old, and we lived in Florida for two years before we made our way to the Midwest. I've written previously about the large picture window in the dining room of the house we lived in when we came here, and about how my kiddos would often press their little faces against that window as they peered outside. Almost every time the weather guys talk about snow, my mind flies back to the first snow of the winter following our move to KC the previous summer. Matt, Brad and Meghann stood at that big window gazing in amazement at the huge white flakes that fell from the sky. When I recall that day, I always think about my then 3-year-old Bradley. Brad was a pacie boy ... he loved his pacie in a big way, so much so that he rarely took it out of his mouth and would talk around it when he had something to say. And yes, he was stinking, stinking cute when he did it. I will never forget what Brad did the day the snow came ... he took his pacie out of his mouth, looked up at me, pointed out the window and said, "It 'nowing, Mommie ... it 'nowing out dere."

For several days, the weather guys and gals here in Kansas City have been predicting the arrival of a major winter storm tonight. They've kind of gone back and forth as to whether we are going to get sleet and freezing rain before the moisture turns into snow, but they all are in agreement that over the next 24 hours or so we are going to get dumped on when it comes to some form of frozen precipitation. In fact, they are predicting we could see as much as a foot of snow before the storm finally winds down on Friday. I only remember a couple of times over the last 10 years when the owners of my company called us to the main conference room to tell us to plan on working from home because of the weather. Today was one of those times, which tells me they think the weather folks are accurate in their forecast.

Traffic was light this evening as I drove home, probably because a lot of people who work downtown left early to go raid the grocery stores. You couldn't pay me enough money to go to a grocery store tonight, by the way ... I've got six jars of peanut butter, two dozen eggs, sugar-free jello and Cool Whip, and food for my hounds, so I'm good. But back to my drive home ... my commute that normally takes 40 to 45 minutes was a quick 25 minutes tonight, and it's always a pleasant surprise for me when that happens. I couldn't help but think about the coming storm as I drove, and I found myself glancing more than a time or two at the gray skies outside the windows of my car. I wondered aloud what time the snow will start, how much will fall and just how messy the roads will be. And as I wondered about those things and about whether the weather guys are correct in their predictions, I began to think about the times in my life when I've braced myself for storms I believed were heading my way.

See, here's the thing ... sometimes I'm dead-on right about storms and what they will bring, and sometimes I'm ... well, sometimes I'm wrong. My blog is a good example of the truth of that statement. Sometimes I pen a post that I know is going to bring forth a storm of commentary and opinion, and sometimes that commentary isn't what I would term sunny or bright in nature. But then there are also times when a post that I'm afraid will cause the skies to darken and unleash a brooding torrent all around me actually does just the opposite and helps people instead. In the next couple of days, I'm going to post the link to the video Brad and I are working on that I mentioned in an earlier post. And the closer we get to finishing the final cut, the more nervous I get about whether or not a storm will follow closely behind its release. But then I think about the people the video could help, and at the end of the day, that's what really matters most of all ... helping people who need help.

So ... I wonder if the ground will be white when Julie and Ollie and I rise in the morning? I wonder.