the Butterfly Effect

The BUTTERFLY EFFECT is a metaphor for how a small and insignificant behavior or happening can cause a major change in circumstances. [google ref]

It's hard to believe that a butterfly flapping its wings in New Mexico can ultimately cause a hurricane in China. Although it would take a very long time and the conditions would have to be right, some believe it's possible.

Today, I'm not talking about science, history, or the movie that Ashton Kutcher starred in, although these are each worth checking out. I am considering attributes like patience, kindness, goodness, gentleness...

You don't have to travel the world to make a difference. You don't have to stand on a street corner with Bible in hand to declare God's incredible love. Just be you in your own seemingly small and insignificant way--where you live, where you work--and reflect Christ love for others by being patient, kind, good, gentle, and, let's not leave out, faithful.

Just maybe you'll start a reaction that will be sweeping, extensive, pervasive.
Think of the joy!

Who knows what impact you may be making.

Let's be butterflies.

Rockin' the Boat Gently

I recently read, The cemetery is full of people who didn't rock the boat.

Don't rock the boat! implies.... don't make trouble, keep your mouth shut, don't mess with Pandora's Box. There's a certain amount of wisdom here; however, rockin' the boat, at times, gets things done, encourages transformation.

When Jesus began to reveal who He really was, He was rockin' the boat. When He healed on the Sabbath, the Pharisees called it blasphemy. When He ate with sinners and sought out the sick and needy, He caused political turmoil. Jesus allowed the boat to be rocked literally before He calmed the storm--with His disciples and him in the boat--possibly to get their attention. "Why are you so afraid? Do you still have no faith?"

The Fruits of the Spirit include love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness and self-control. Although these don't seem like "rock the boat" attributes, perhaps they are as we don't see much of any one of these in our world today.

We were each given unique gifts. Perhaps spreading joy, sharing peace, being patient during difficult times, using self-control when it would be easier to explode, and being faithful is your way of "rockin the boat."

I'm speculating that if I had to choose between two epithets,

She rocked the boat ...or... 

She didn't rock the boat, 

I would choose 

She Rocked the Boat --and let's add-- Gently.

Remembering Mom

I thought my mom would live forever. That's what most of us think until illness sets in and perceptions do a flip. My mother's birthday was yesterday. She would have been 94. Instead, she died several years ago at 85 of a very rare cancer.

Mom had always been the energy bunny in the family, the Martha in the kitchen. When she would come to visit, she would fold the clothes, help prepare a meal, shadow me from floor to floor and fill me in with the latest news of family and the community I came from while giving me a hand at whatever task I was at.

However, when death got it's grip, she quieted. She no longer had much to say. She sat in her favorite chair staring at the TV-- or was it the picture window behind the television where the trees twisted in the breeze and the birds flitted and twittered. She answered questions with a single word or a shrug. Her smile disappeared.

Being the active and chatty person who she was, I imagined that as she grew older and closer to dying that she would share memories of our growing up years, that she would give us words of wisdom that would help us going forward in our own lives, that she would tell each one of her children how much she cared for and loved us. Didn't happen....

She withdrew.
It hurt.
I didn't expect it.

I do not love her any less because of the way she left us.
I catch myself using her mannerisms, her expressions; she's somewhere inside me still.
Life is full of change and mystery.
God and His love is the only constant.
Stay close....

Working From Home Retirement

If it's possible at 70 years of age to be "working from home," I am; I, too, work at home. I'm also a stay-at-home mom and a stay-at-home grandma. I use the stay-at-home phrase loosely; although my children and grandchildren are not underfoot, they are always in my heart, on my mind, in my prayers. Can we call this multi-tasking?

After starting my teaching career, if someone had told me they "work at home," I would have thought you lucky girl, what do you do all day long? However, the world is full of change and mystery, and what we thought could never be, is, ... or at least takes on a new look. The internet, laptops, and smart phones have turned our social and work worlds upside down.

I can not determine where my personal world went haywire. Although I have been retired for nine years, I set the timer when I sit to read or write, so I can get up and attend to something else. I have friends who are looking for things to do, places to go... and I am wondering where things went whack-o for me. I am still working at home, working from home, being a stay-at-home mom and grandma and, even though multi-tasking, wondering how I am going to get it all done.

For example, the deck still needs its last coat of stain--a project I started a year ago. Business papers who have met their expiration dates and need to meet the shredder rest on the couch in the family room. The deep freeze needs defrosting, and, oh, yes, the water softener next to it is greedy for salt crystals. The second story windows haven't been washed since we moved in.... and I'm not saying what year that was. And, please don't mention the garden and its multitude of weeds.

I could go on, but you get the point.
God wants us to rest.
Yesterday, I did. Or, at least I did restful things--we went to church, we went to a movie, we finished the day by going to an ice cream social. I felt very relaxed and satisfied at the end of my Sunday. There was only one problem: I could NOT sleep. My body was not used to this relaxed state....

The only solution I can think of is to retire from working from home, retire from working at home.... and quit all this multi-tasking. The multi-tasking never was a very good idea. Parenthood and grand parenting stay on the list as heart issues and forever things.

In all reality for this to happen, I need to move a few blocks down the street to Apple Valley-- an assistive living home in a lovely setting. They mow the grass, do your laundry, cook your meals. I could play bridge, sit in front of the fireplace and watch a movie with the other residents, and wait for my children to take me out for ice cream. Sometime.... Somewhere....

Until then, I will stay here in my "somewhere" knowing that God has an eternal Somewhere that will be heavenly, restful, peaceful...... and try to more wisely discern my earthly priorities.

Now the LORD is the Spirit, and where the Spirit of the LORD is, thee is freedom And we, who with unveiled faces, all reflect the LORD'S glory, are being transformed into His likeness with ever increasing glory which comes from the LORD who is the Spirit. 
                                                                                                                             2 Corinthians 3:17-18

Once Upon a Time, I Lived in a Bubble

Once upon a time, I lived in a bubble. I faced whatever life handed me with confidence--due to a strong family support system and a bit of naivety. I thought my version of the world was everyone else's. Later in life, I discovered that friends and loved ones who I thought were as "secure" as I was had elephants in the living room, on the back steps, and out on their lawns--because shame is not shared. It's there; it exists; but, it is not shared.

As the years passed, I began to seek and understand the bigger pictures of relationship issues, abuse, financial stress, illness, and growing-older dilemmas. Friends and acquaintances, who hid things during their younger years, shared their stories. Was it because desperation set in? Were the repercussions of shame-based behaviors too much to handle alone? Was it because there was no where else to hide and no reason to do so anymore?

It has been said that everyone we meet in life, every experience we have, shape us into the person we become. This includes parents, siblings, spouse, friends, children, and those others we meet for short periods of our lives--some who we have connected with deeply and who leave forever imprints.

Maybe, what I didn't "get" before, I have a chance to get now. I mentioned to my fellow classmate, Lois, (reconnecting at a class reunion) that I felt a need to "make-new" --although I wasn't sure what I even meant. She replied, "I see your make-new as making better relationships from the incomplete scraps of the old ones. Maybe, polishing off the rust".

I like the phrases--incomplete scraps and polishing off the rust... Something incomplete can be completed, made new.

 Is not wisdom found among the aged?  Does not long life bring understanding? Job 12;12

Thank goodness, we have a Creator who understands all this and wants us to be connected. It's all a part of His great plan. It's all a part of being human.



In the same way, even though we are many individuals, Christ makes us one body and individuals who are connected to each other. Romans 12:5

The Word became flesh for the purpose of connecting....

               

Pillbox Hats and Nylon Stockings

When I was in 8th grade, I looked like a miniature of my mother. A flowered dress, scoop neck, hanging right below the kneecap. Black pumps, nylons with a seam up the back. A pillbox hat with net pulled over one half of my face, lips barely tinged with pink... both of us in the family station wagon on our way to church with a bunch of noisy boys.

Although feeling grownup, I also felt awkward. Wearing nylons meant wearing a girdle. I remember being concerned I would get a run in my hoes before getting to church and everyone, everyone would notice. A girl can only wear a girdle for so long, and then you get a belly ache. The net from the hat itched my nose and got caught in my eyelashes.

During the week, when at home, I wore what we called "chore clothes." .... patched jeans, worn-out shirts--everything had been washed until it was faded, soft, and comfortable. Our clothes were so worn, that I remember hiding when a neighbor or the Watkins man came to our door.

My mother, however, wore a house dress every day of the week. If a neighbor or the Watkins man happened at our door, she would take off her apron and be ready for company. She eventually bought a pair of pants to wear with her flowered shirts around the house and a couple of navy blue pant suits to wear to church.

It seems to me that there are no age-appropriate clothes anymore. Gals of every age wear leggings or tight jeans or flip flops. I remember my Grandmother Hulda wearing sensible, sturdy shoes. I don't believe she owned a pair of pants or slacks or anything with legs. Picturing either my mom or Grandma Hulda in leggings is laughable.



Life and what's in and what is out is ever changing, even, at times, wild and unpredictable. I don't think God really cares what we wear on the outside. It's what inside us that counts. He's looking for the kind of LOVE that God first gave us. Talk about comfort? It's all there, right there in his love.

Author John Rohn writes, "You are the average of the five people you spend the most time with."

I grew up with five brothers and my parents. I spent the most time with my mother and the littlest brother at the time--hanging out diapers on a clothes line, scooping baby food into an eager mouth, dusting, baking, weeding the garden, canning and freezing. Mom was almost always at my side or me at hers.

That was 60+ years ago.

During the last 45+ years I have lived with the same man and four of our children who survived various stages of life living under our roof as they evolved into purposeful, loving adults.

Because we were/ are each so different from one another, I can not begin to imagine how to determine the "averages".

As a freshman in college, I lived with a roommate who used expletives casually in her conversations. Within a month or so, these same words were slipping out of my mouth--

Huge segue here....

I was 18, then.
I'm 70+ now....
I know Who I need to spend more time with: Jesus.