Punching Fear: Senior Citizen Edition.

Ok, so my last post was about the Start Experiment and punching fear.  That was July.  Thousands of people were part of this cool experiment and wrote books and songs and ran for congress and started cupcake companies.  Me, not so much.  But I have thrown a few punches here and there.  Some of them even involved senior citizens.  Read on, my friends... 

Do you ever have silly little internal arguments inside your head ?  You know, like when a thought pops into your brain that you think might be God…  but you’re not sure if you’re just making it up because, frankly, you’re a bit of a drama queen?  So you sit there, arguing with yourself, whether to act on the thought and risk all kinds of awkward humiliation, or just go for it, and leave the results up to God? 

Well, that was me,  sitting at a table in the Marketplace Café at Wegmans, after I noticed a senior citizen gentleman sitting by himself, cradling an empty cup of coffee, staring off into space.  “What if he’s hard of hearing and you end up having to scream for Jesus in the middle of people trying to enjoy their lattes and sushi?”  “What if he just wants to be left alone?”  “What if he thinks you’re an idiot?” All valid concerns in my brain.  And yet…  in the end, the voice that won out was the one that simply said “why don’t you just ask him if he’d like a refill on his coffee?”  So I swallowed hard, walked over to him, and that’s what I did.  I mean, what was he going to do, beat me up?  I could outrun him if I had to, right? 

Turns out, he didn’t beat me up, or get angry, nor was he hard of hearing.  Instead, he was very appreciative of the offer.  Our conversation was not long, but I did have the opportunity to tell this sweet man that God loved him very much, and just wanted to show him that in a small way. 

Now don’t get me wrong.   This is soooo not about what “I” did.  Big deal.  I bought a man a cup of coffee. It’s not about the coffee.   It was about the glisten in his eyes at the mention of the words “God loves you”.  He was glistening.  And, I believe, he was listening.  Not to me, but to the voice of God, speaking personally to him, in the middle of Wegmans on a weekday afternoon.   All because I listened to the voice of God.   

Sometimes we worry that we can’t tell the difference between His voice and ours.  But I am finding that my voice DOES sound a lot like His… when that voice is telling me something that goes along with His character.  It’s not about the results, it’s about the response.  I am so glad I responded, and left the results to the Lord.  He’s good with results.

Punching Fear: Day 1

Today I took a risk. 

I joined a group that is all about encouraging people to take risks.  Punch fear in the face.  Get out of the boat.  That kind of thing. 

Now, truth be told,  I like to talk about taking risks.  Read about it.  Think about it. 

But the "taking them" part?  Yeah,  I don't really like that so very much.

They're so... risky.

And what if I take the wrong risk?  A stupid risk?  A risk that results in loss?  Or worse yet, no change whatsoever.  That could be pretty painful. 

But what if I keep doing what I've been doing (which is, not so very much)? 

That could be the dumbest risk yet.

Hell, thy name is Sugar...

Day #4...

When they tell you the first few days of eliminating sugar intake are "no fun", don't believe them.

They are wretched. 

Getting a root canal is "no fun".  Waiting at the DMV and dealing with humorless zombies behind their little windows of self aggrandized power,  is "no fun".  Enduring most of the depressing line up of British voiced narrated TV shows on PBS that my husband seems to love... is "no fun." (and don't get me started on that insipidly boring travel logue guy who has NO RIGHT to get paid for trekking the world and making the most exotic destinations seem unbearably dull). 

I have experienced plenty of things that are "no fun."  Plenty, indeed.  But this sugar detox thing... that belongs in a whole different category:  something more akin to, oh I don't know, hellish torment?

Truly, I don't mean to make light of the reality of hell itself.  I know it is far worse, and I don't mean to suggest that what I am going through can begin to compare to the real suffering that is taking place on earth, even as I write.  If anything, I guess you could say I am merely shedding light on my true, wimpy nature.   I hate suffering.  I really, really, do.

What's more, in these excrutiatingly looooong 3 days, I have become painfully aware of the fact that there is something I hate even more than suffering.  I hate being told "no".  I loathe restrictions, in any form.  Even self imposed ones, which is why I hardly ever impose them on myself. Limitations are just so... limiting, you know?  So I hardly ever set them, rebel that I am.   This is an ugly, ugly thing to face. 

Simultaneous to all of these egregious epiphanies, however, is something I haven't been talking a lot about since I started this journey, but another quiet reality that trumps all of the afore-mentioned "hell'ish" revelations, and is sustaining me through my whining and complaining, even this very second:  the Grace of my Lord Jesus Christ.  In a way it seems silly, and even irresponsible to squander such a priceless treasure on something as pedestrian as dealing with a sugar addiction.  But then I remember these words:

"I do not set aside the grace of God, for if righteousness could be attained through the law, Christ died for nothing!"  Galatians 2:21

 

And there it is.  I need his Grace-  beginning with salvation, yes, but not ending there, not by a long shot.  I need His Grace for EVERYTHING.  I cannot afford to set it aside, not for a moment.  Especially right now, when nothing in me wants to do what I know is healthy and yields life... when I am tempted to lean on my own understanding and do what "feels" right in the moment (ie. have a clandestine tete a tete with a pan of Ghirardelli brownies)...  ah yes, there is a way that seems right to a man (or, in this case, a chocolate crazed woman), but in the end it leads to death. 

The good I want to do, I cannot do (where have I heard this before?).  Who will rescue me from this body of death?  (boy, this is sounding really familiar). 

Thanks be to God, for His Grace, which is truly sufficient... and which I am leaning on more, and more.

I may screw up.  Maybe even today.  But I am leaning on His grace, nonethless.  I can't afford not to. 

Sugar Shock

Who is STUPID enough to try to give up sugar on Halloween?

This girl here [raising hand].

It all started, see, the day before, at my annual check up... or should I say after the jarring shock of being woken up out of the blissful state of denial I have been in for a good long time as to the reality of my dietary trajectory, and the bad, bad places it is taking me. I guess you could say it started months before, when I embarked on said trajectory, but let's stick to the point.  I was now facing the painful dilemma of deciding which is more depressing:  Dealing with my sugar addiction... or the consequences of NOT dealing with it. 

I think they made a Meryl Streep movie about this. 

So anyway, in a very "uncharacteristic-of-me" fashion, I actually did more than just feel  momentarily "convicted" (code phrase for "feel bad, shrug shoulders and move on")...
I made a quality decision to do the hardest, most ridiculously radical thing I could think to do:  stop eating sugar.  Or at least try. 

So that's just what I did.  A whole day, filled with soup and salad and healthy, hearty, sugar free snackies...  I even bought 4 bags of Halloween candy (the good stuff, too, not the crappy stuff older kids try to pawn off on their younger, naive siblings), and partook of none of it.  What's more, I'll have you know that I actually survived Trick or Treating with my daughter, without so much as stealing a fun-sized Snickers when she wasn't looking (don't act like you've never done this).  Proud of myself, I was...

And then it was time to go to Grandma's house.  Grandma, who has never read the Purpose Driven Life, but if she had, would find that hers is somehow connected to showering the people she loves with food, glorious food... including an ever exploding cornucopia of dessert items

It was seriously like an Alfred Hitchcock movie. Every time I turned it around:

[SCREEECH! SCREECH! SCREECH!] COOKIES ...

[SCREEECH! SCREECH! SCREECH!] CANDY ...

[SCREECH! SCREECH! SCREECH!] ICE CREEEEEEEAAAAAAMMMMM!!!!
 

Finally, having made it through the horrific labyrinth of high glycemia, as we are departing, with my hand nearly on the doorknob...

 

[SCREECH! SCREECH! SCREECH!]   SHE HOLDS OUT A CARTON (yes, a CARTON) of CUPCAKES... expecting us to take them home.

 

She has since been locked in the basement. 
 

But the important thing is, I did it. At least for one day. All things considered, though, I think I should get a medallion or something like they give out in AA, to have survived this highest holy day of complex carbohydrate consumption.

 

  If I accomplish nothing else in life, I can say I have done this one thing.   Or, maybe I could set the bar a little higher and see if I can keep going.  I'm already 36 hours in... Who knows? 

 

Showing Up

"Sooo... what's God doing in YOUR life?"

Don't you just LOVE this question?  Seems innocuous enough... to the naive, that is.  To a recovering cynic like me, however, who boldly sees layer upon layer of innuendo and hidden agendas where no man has seen before... it is nothing more than a subtle barometric tool meant to measure ones' reaction to being put on the spot.   

Ever have someone ask you this question, say in a group setting (around a circle is always great, with everyone intensely staring each other down in an OK Corral kind of way), and you find yourself going into this instant internal panic mode… wracking your brain in a desperate attempt to come up with something good and dramatic to top (or at least keep up with) all the other spiritual Jones's and/or glowing testimonies in the circle before you?    Yeah, me neither.  That never happens to me. 

Ok, I’m lying.  In fact, it just happened to me.  I was in just such a circly situation, and though I know God is always at work, my mind was drawing a complete blank… and as half of me listened with awe and wonderment to story after story of all the cool stuff Jesus is doing to and through my spiritual friends, the other half of me was thinking, “I got nothin.  This is not good.”

Let me clarify.  It’s not that I don’t think God is doing anything in my life.  It’s just that sometimes it doesn’t seem very “made for tv”, or even “made for circle time” by comparison.  It just seems insignificant. You know, little stuff... like the Fatherly way His voice whispers words of direction I so very much need in the midst of my cluttered, chaotic day.  The surprising way He actually uses me to speak wisdom into someone’s life (huh, did those sage words really just come out of MY mouth?)  The “random” way He pops someone’s name into my mind in the middle of a sleepless night to pray for them, only to find out the next day why… The sneaky way he uses the most unlikely source to speak jarring words of encouragement to me just when I least expect it… and just when I needed them most.

It’s little stuff, really.  Nothing dramatic.  And yet, by the time it was my time to share, I realized, that IS what he’s doing in my life.  Showing up.  In a thousand little ways.  Usually I’m so deaf and blind, I can’t see or hear him… or at least I’m on this delayed timer, and don’t realize it until after the fact.  But the fact is, He is ENGAGING… with me!   Actually taking time to LISTEN, TALK TO, and even USE  me for His glory.  Amazing. 

So I guess you could say what God is doing in my life right now is, well…  showing up… in a lot of little ways.   And come to think of it, this is a pretty big deal.   

Sooo… what’s God doing in YOUR life?  ;^)

FIFTY THINGS I LOVE ABOUT MY HUSBAND

Today is my husband Ken's 50th birthday.  In honor of this momentous occasion, I have taken it upon myself to list 50 things that I love about him.  This list is neither exhaustive nor in prioritized order... but it is all true.  Every bit of it!


WHAT I LOVE ABOUT KEN: 

50.  That he considers 10 hours a short work day. 

49.  The way he explains the thermal coefficient of steel over and over again ever so patiently, knowing I will only have a marginal understanding at best.

48.  The playful way he mocks my home town of Elmira, NY, as if we all popped off the set of Green Acres. 

47.  Although  he cooks, cleans, launders, irons and basically does anything domestic better than me, he does not let that interfere with the delicate balance of nature in our home.

46.  I know without question he would lay down his life for Felicity and me… or at least sustain an injury from slipping on the casings...

45.  His linear thinking to offset my nonlinear freakfest of a brain.

44.  His creative take on song lyrics:, without even realizing he is rewriting them  (eg.  KC & The Sunshine Band:  "Do a little dance... sing a little song... get down tonight!)

43.  That he knows EV.RY.THING.

42.  His impression of Golom.

41.  The way he chases Felicity around.

40.  The way he chases the cat around.

39.  The way he chases me around.

38.  That he not only knows Scripture, he lives it out.

37.  When he tells me “you’re seldom wrong, but never without an answer!”

36.  That he is the machine whisperer. 

35.  No one on earth laughs like him.

34.  His first face-to-face words to me:   "You’re pretty.  Cool.”

33.  His guitar stylings.

32.  His Lou Rawls impression.

31.  His ear splitting cadence calls.

30.  That he is the only person I know who not only thinks to create zoned heating for the house, but actually knows how to do it… and does it!

29.  The way he cares for us in thousands of decisions he makes every day, week, month and year to put us first.

28.  That wherever he goes, he is the smartest person in the room, and everyone, deep in their heart, knows it. 

27.  His secret love of pop culture.

26.  How he is the best example of a Clockmaker I know  (which will only make sense if you are familiar with Jim Collins' "Good to Great" book)

25.  His extreme generosity.

24.  How he loves to learn.

23.  Two words:  Handsome Warrior

22.  His beautiful green eyes, boring a hole into my soul like the 80 year old picture of  his Aunt Imelda hanging on our wall

21.  How he honors his mother, and cares for her.

20.  His faithfulness to our family.

19.  How on our honeymoon he knew more about the Mayans than our Mexican tourguides.

18.  The way he tries to teach me proper radio listening etiquette when NPR is on and I can’t contain myself one second longer without responding to the airwaves with incredulity. 

17.  How he loves his brothers.

16.  His freakishly intense tenacity.

15.  How he gave my mother a hug and told her “You did a good job” after coming back from my father’s funeral.

14.  That he let me pick out the kitchen cabinet handles.

13.  That he still occasionally says “Nancy is nice!”

12.   That he could care less about football.

11.   How he calls me his "Testa Rosa" 

10.  That he has not only won me over to Star Trek, but occasionally PBS

  9.  The way he knew about Ruth and Boaz when we were Eharmonizing

  8.  That he is not just knowledgeable, but possesses great wisdom. 

  7.  His love of blowing things up.

  6.  The way he sings.  It brings me joy.

  5.  That anything he does, he does extremely, thoroughly and freakishly well.

4.  That he is so glad he married a rich woman ;^)

3.  That everyone who knows him knows him to be a man of honor, integrity, faithfulness and sheer brilliance. 

2.  That he loves me… and Felicity. 

1.  That he loves the Lord with all his heart, soul, mind, and strength. 

(ok, so the last 2 were in proper order!)

 

I love you, Ken Carmichael, with all my heart. 

Remember, darling:  Life is short.  So we must live.

Selective Outrage

Ok, so if I understood my morning car radio session with NPR correctly, I should be very concerned about the integrity of a person (Mitt Romney) who refuses to submit his tax returns.   This election, after all, is about character.

Hmmm...     [sound of hamster wheel spinning in head]

So...   If I ask "why there was not a similar outrage by some over Timothy Geitner's tax evasion as there is about Mitt Romney's refusal to disclose his tax returns?", it's not because I think he (Mitt) shouldn't discose his taxes. I think he should. I just think we are selectively outraged, depending on our alliances, that's all.

It happens again and again and again, and I am incredulous that no one seems to be able to recognize it. 

   Both sides have huge flaws and significant amounts of corruption, greed, power grabbing and manipulation... and their die-hard supporters have major blind spots, not to mention the makings for some serious back pain from all the bendy wendy gymnastics to justify their side and villify the opposing side. Republicans do it. Democrats do it. I have done it. And I am sick of, and hereby repenting of it.

Can we not be honest with ourselves? Can we not just admit that when we engage in this kind of finger pointing, we are saying more about ourselves than what we claim to believe in?

In the end, we are fooling ourselves if we really think this is about seeking and defending truth. We are seekers and defenders of self. Period.