A Day Like Today

I'm sure there isn't a parent, grandparent, aunt, uncle, sister, brother, other family member or friend whose heart isn't broken for the families who lost loved ones in the horrible tragedy that unfolded today in Connecticut. Once again, we were left stunned and saddened as we watched and listened to the news accounts of the devastating rampage carried out upon innocent children and adults by an obviously troubled young man. We wept for the ones who were taken, and we gave thanks for the ones who were spared. Once again, we questioned how such a tragic event could have occurred in a school, the very place where little children and teachers should be protected and safe from the horrors of the outside world. Words just aren't enough, friends ... words just are not enough for a day such as today.

Earlier in the day, hours before I heard the news of what had happened in Connecticut, I talked with my son Brad. At the end of our chatty conversation, I said as I always do, "Love you, buddy," and he said, "Love you, too, Mom." On my way home from work tonight, I talked with my daughter-in-law Becca. At the end of our lengthy conversation, I said as I always do, "Love you," and she said, "Love you, too." Yesterday, at the end of an emotional conversation with a friend at work, we hugged and I said, "I love you," and she said, "I love you, too, Terrie." Tonight at the end of a telephone conversation with an old friend, she said, "I love you, Terrie," and I replied, "I love you, too."

I'm sure it goes without saying tonight, but I'm going to say it anyway. Tell the people you love that you love them. Never miss an opportunity to say those words to the ones you love. A day like today should remind all of us to put aside any differences we may have and realize that those differences really don't matter at all. A day like today should remind all of us that what really matters in this life is how we love one another. A day like today should remind all of us that none of us, young or old, have the promise of another day or even another breath. A day like today should remind all of us of the power and importance of an embrace. A day like today should remind all of us to say, "I love you ... I love you ... I love you ... I love you."

Be with the hurting families tonight, Lord ... please be with them tonight, Lord.

Good People Are Just Good People

One of the things I miss most at this time of the year is the excitement and anticipation that consumed my children as they eagerly awaited the arrival of Christmas morning. The three of them could barely sleep the night before, and I remember wondering if perhaps they may have crept down the stairs to try to take a peek at what had been placed under the tree for them (which is why I started getting up really early to stock the tree). Here's the thing ... I wanted my kids to be surprised on Christmas morning ... the surprise element was always part of the fun for me. Watching my children's eyes open wide and their mouths drop as they squealed in surprise and delight was absolutely the best part of the day for me.

I think many of you will be able to relate to the following words ... I've grown jaded and perhaps even somewhat cynical as I've aged in regard to being truly surprised by much of anything in life anymore. It's rare that something really takes my breath away or causes my eyes to widen in surprise and delight, really rare, in fact. But every once in a while ... every once in a while, something or someone truly takes me by surprise and makes me stop and marvel at the wonder of what's going on around me. And that's exactly what's happened over the last few months ... I've been surprised time and time again ... I've been surprised time and time again not by gifts or presents, I've been surprised by people. More accurately, I've been surprised by the hearts of people ... I've been surprised by the huge amount of love and compassion that so many of those hearts have demonstrated to me.

If I haven't learned anything else over the last few months, I've learned in a mighty and surprising way that God often uses the very people I would least expect to be His messengers of grace and mercy in my life. I've learned that it doesn't matter if people are rich or poor, young or old, male or female, healthy or ill, believers or unbelievers ... what matters are the hearts that beat within them. I've learned that good people are just good people, and I've learned that good people have good hearts. I've learned that good hearts prove themselves over and over again. I've learned that good people are just good people and they do what they don't have to do ... they do what isn't required or demanded of them ... they do what they do because they have good hearts that choose love and loyalty over hate and condemnation. Good people are caring ... good people are supportive ... good people are encouraging ... good people are loving. Good people are just good people. Period. Good people aren't defined by race or religion or creed or beliefs ... good people refuse to be defined by those attributes. Good people step outside of themselves in order to help a fellow traveler ... good people are defined by love and love alone.

Over the last couple of days, some of those good people have shown me their hearts ... they have shown me their hearts in ways that have had a deep impact on me. Those good people most likely don't realize how deeply they have touched my wounded spirit or how much they have soothed my troubled mind. From the words, "I love you, Terrie," to the words, "I'm not going anywhere, Terrie," to the words, "You can do this, friend,"  to the words, "I know you will be OK," to hugs and notes and emails and messages, those good people have surprised me with their hearts ... those good people have surprised me with their love and encouragement and acceptance and compassion and concern.

Good people are just good people, friends. Good people are just good people. Period.

  

Suspended Smiles

When I close my eyes and picture my dad, I see his twinkling eyes and his ever-present smile. And when I close my eyes and picture my dad, I see two other things, too ... I see a hat perched atop his silver hair and suspenders clipped on the waistband of his trousers. Daddy always wore a hat ... when he worked in his garden, he wore a ball cap; and whenever he left the house to go anywhere, he wore "dress" hats, a straw hat in the summer and a felt hat in the winter. For as hard as I try to picture Daddy with a belt on his pants, I can't ... I see black suspenders ... Daddy always wore suspenders rather than belts. I've got a file tucked away in my heart filled with questions I'd like to ask Mom and Dad when I get to heaven, and why Daddy wore suspenders is definitely one of them.

I mentioned in my post about attending my office holiday party a couple of weeks ago that I wore suspenders with my tuxedo pants ... black suspenders just like the ones Daddy used to wear. I'm not sure exactly what made me choose to wear them or why I became so fixated with them at the party (along with my black shiny shoes), but I made a point of showing them to all of my co-workers ... several times, actually, according to what I've been told. I didn't need the suspenders to hold my pants up, because my black tuxedo pants with the satiny stripe down the sides of the legs fit snugly enough that there was no risk of them sliding off. Though I'm not sure why I chose to wear them, I am sure of one thing ... my suspenders (or perhaps more accurately, my infatuation with them) made both me and my co-workers smile.

I've been sad for the last week or so ... too many rocks, I guess. I was really down yesterday, really, really down, and by the end of my workday, all I wanted to do was go home and go to bed. As I sat in bumper-to-bumper traffic, I couldn't help but think about a conversation I had earlier in the day with a co-worker ... a chat about the importance of recognizing when I need to change my attitude, a chat about how a small, seemingly insignificant action can bring about a huge adjustment in my outlook on life. So this morning as I stood peering into my closet trying to decide what to wear to work today, I made a decision that impacted my day in a way I couldn't have imagined ... I chose to wear suspenders. No, I didn't wear the tuxedo pants ... I wore black jeans with a blue shirt. The moment I clipped my black suspenders to the waist of my jeans, I started smiling. See here's the thing ... I can't wear suspenders and be sad ... it is simply impossible for me to be sad when I'm wearing suspenders. And here's the other thing ... everyone I saw at work today smiled when they saw how I was dressed. Come on ... how could you not smile when you see a gray-haired gal in suspenders? There's just something about suspenders, friends ... there's something about suspenders that makes people smile.

As I drove home tonight, I was struck by a thought ... my decision to wear suspenders today was bigger than me. Yep, they lifted my spirits and made me smile, but so much more important than my own smile were the smiles of my friends at work. Every single person who saw me today smiled and said something about my suspenders ... seeing me in those black suspenders made them smile, and seeing them smile made me smile in return. The truth is my smile has been suspended for a really, really long time ... but today ... today, I wore suspenders and I smiled.

 



 

Matter Over Mind

It's hard to believe that it was only almost nine years ago when Facebook burst onto the scene and forever changed the social networking landscape of the world. People share so many aspects of their lives on the site ... some superficial and somewhat meaningless aspects such as what they eat for breakfast or photos of a new pair of jeans they bought , and some more intimate such as job losses or serious health issues for which they are requesting prayer. Though it was only around nine years ago that Facebook became part of many of our lives, in many ways, it seems as though it's been around forever. In fact, many of our children and grandchildren have no concept of society without Facebook ... it's one of the digital methods they employ to stay in contact with one another and keep up with what's going on in the lives of their families and friends.

I remember dragging my feet on joining the giant social networking beast, and it was only after my son Brad hounded me for a few months about the benefit the site could provide in regard to my speaking ministry or in sharing my blog that I finally caved in and joined the masses. It didn't take me long to get hooked on reading all the updates that my family and friends were posting, and I especially enjoyed reconnecting with old friends I grew up with back in Tennessee. For a long time, I joined in the posting frenzy and offered up my own details of daily life interspersed with what I at least considered to be tidbits of wisdom and doses of humor. As is true with so many things in my life, however, over the last couple of years, I stopped most of my Facebook communication and only posted the link to my blog whenever I had penned a new post. And now I have a confession to make ... though I stopped posting my own comments, I continued to read the posts of my friends. Yep, I went from being an active participant in sharing my life to simply reading about the lives of others ... I became what my young friends at work call "a Facebook stalker" ... I kept tabs on my family and friends, but I didn't interact with them unless there was a major event going on in their lives.

Last week, one of my younger friends on Facebook posted a quote from Dr. Seuss ... a quote my oldest son had mentioned to me the evening I had that most difficult conversation with him and his brother ... a quote that now hangs in my cubicle at work ... a quote that I read and think about every single day. "Be who you are and say what you feel, because those who mind don't matter and those who matter don't mind." There is so much truth packed into those words, friends ... so very much deep, deep, deep truth. So many of us spend our entire lives trying to be someone we aren't and stay silent about what we feel. We desperately try to squeeze ourselves into the molds we are told we should fit into, and we bury our true inner feelings under layers of fear ... the fear of judgment, the fear of rejection, the fear of condemnation, even the fear of being left alone.

For the past few days, I've been thinking even more about the words of Dr. Seuss since I read them on my young friend's Facebook status. And I've been thinking about two of the words in particular ... "matter" and "mind." I can't help but acknowledge that I've spent so very much of my life being more concerned about the people who mind rather than the people who matter ... so much wasted time worrying about those who don't matter rather than embracing those who don't mind. And the more I think about it, the more I realize that God has been trying to teach me an enormous lesson through the words of Dr. Seuss since the night my son spoke them to me. When we cut through all the "stuff" of life ... all the stuff that defines us to one another ... the only thing that really matters is love ... God's love for us and our love for each other. Love is where everything should begin, friends, and love is where everything should end. We shouldn't begin or end with anything other than love ... not fear, not judgment, not loneliness, not rejection ... love is where everything should begin, and love is where everything should end.

"Be who you are and say what you feel, because those who mind don't matter and those who matter don't mind." -- Dr. Seuss

Too Many Rocks

At one time or another, each of my three children picked up a rock and threw it at something or someone. Sometimes they tossed those rocks into a creek and watched as they sunk to the bottom of the rushing, tumbling water. Sometimes they stood gazing at the growing ripples created by throwing a rock into the still, calm water of a glassy lake. There were other times when my children would hurl rocks across an open field trying to peg a tree or a certain patch of grass. And often, my kids would line up tin cans and pitch rocks toward them as they competed to see who had the best aim. But every once in a while, the rock throwing veered from the innocent to the hurtful ... every once in a while, one of my children would get angry and throw a rock at one of their siblings or a friend. Yep, every once in a while, one of my children would throw a rock at someone they loved. And every single time they did, I would say, "Don't throw rocks at each other, guys ... you'll hurt someone."

My favorite book in the Bible is the book of John, and I have long been drawn to one story in particular. It's in John 8:3-11, and it's the recounting of the events that occurred when a woman who is caught committing adultery by the religious leaders is brought before Jesus. The law of the day dictated that the woman be stoned to death for what she had done, and the religious guys were trying to trap Jesus by asking Him what He would have them do with her. Jesus blew those sanctimonious religious guys away when He stooped over and wrote in the sand with His finger ... and yes, I'd love to know what He wrote. The holy guys kept questioning him until Jesus stood up and said, "Let any one of you who is without sin be the first to throw a stone at her." Whoa. Those guys sure didn't expect that to be the way Jesus would answer, and one by one, they dropped the stones they were holding and walked away. The story concludes with Jesus telling the woman that He doesn't condemn her and instructing her to go and sin no more. It's a powerful story, and if you've never read it, you should. In fact, if you've read it a gazillion times, you should read it again.

We don't stone people to death here in the land of the free and the home of the brave when they don't fit the mold of what society dictates is correct behavior ... we don't even stone a person when he or she lives outside of what we would label the proper, normal or moral boundaries that have been set forth. Oh, no ... in modern society, we are much too civilized to pick up rocks and throw them at a person's head until they are wounded and bleeding. We would never even consider punishing a person by such a heinous and cruel action, would we? But we don't hesitate to find the largest boulder we can lift and throw it as hard as we possibly can at another's heart and soul ... we don't even blink an eye when it comes to obliterating the spirit of one whom we deem unworthy, unfit or different from us. We throw rock after rock after rock after rock ... we throw so many rocks that one can't help but wonder sometimes how anyone could survive the onslaught. Think about it, friends ... we throw rocks of condemnation, rocks of guilt, rocks of judgment, rocks of shame, rocks of hatred until we succeed in destroying one another.

I'm sure many of you can relate to this statement ... I've had one of those weeks where I've been on the receiving end of a bunch of thrown rocks. And as much as I hate to admit it, I've probably thrown a few back in return. I was thinking about it on my way home tonight, and one thought that crept into my mind caused my eyes to fill with tears and my heart to hurt deep within. We never know who will throw the rock that finally takes another person's life or robs them of their last shred of joy ... I don't know if I'm throwing the last rock that will ever hit the person I'm pitching it toward. The truth is that there will always come a point when it's the final rock, the last rock that a person can take, the rock that delivers the final blow that causes someone to say, "I can't take one more rock, not one more." When too many people throw too many rocks, more often than not, the person who's being stoned simply gives up and doesn't survive. And the thing that is perhaps the most sad to me is that once you throw that rock at another person's heart and soul, there's no taking it back or "un-throwing" it. And I say again ... you never know when you might be the one who throws the final rock.

Please forgive me, Father, for all the rocks I've thrown ... too many rocks, Lord, I've thrown way too many rocks. Clothe me with Your mighty armor and protect me from the rocks that others throw at me ... rescue me from the day when the rocks are too many. When there are just too many rocks, God, help me to trust in You to deliver me.    

Party On Dudes

OK, OK, OK. Yes, I went to the office party Friday night. Yes, I had a great time. Yes, I looked quite snazzy in my black tuxedo pants, red silky shirt, cream and black blazer, black suspenders, black skinny tie and black shiny shoes. Yes to all of those things. But the biggest part of the evening was the love I felt from my co-workers the minute I walked into the room. They hugged me and told me how happy they were I came. They hugged me a lot throughout the evening actually. They told me over and over and over again how much they loved seeing me have a good time. They told me how good it made them feel to see me smile. They told me they loved me ... a lot.

For as nervous as I was about going to the party (to the point of feeling like I was going to puke in the parking lot when I got there), there's only one way to describe how I felt once I was inside with my friends ... it was like coming home ... it was like being with family. Because that's what we are ... we're family. 

Thanks for letting me be part of our SHS family, guys ... you'll never know how very much you all mean to me. 

Suspenders and shiny shoes. Nuff said!!!