Surrender to a moment

Linking up late for Five Minute Friday over at Kate Motaung's blog. This week's prompt is "surrender". 


God, thank you for Mr. Cardinal who just swooped by and flew to a branch in Mr. Evergreen. He's been sitting there for at least a minute, bobbing up and down on the tree branch swaying in the wind.  It's definitely as if he's there on assignment from You to me. 

He's still there. In all of his red gloriousness. 
Feathers standing out against the green back drop. 

Now, it's close to two minutes. He's still there. 

What is he thinking about? Does he know he's brought me to tears because of his presence? I surrender to this moment in time where this beauty has flown in and perched right in my view.

He's still there. It's got to be three minutes. 

My tears are flowing freely in gratitude for this gift that has lifted me out of rumination to gratitude and awe. He's perfectly content in his world. Surveying in silence and stillness, he looks to be the King of his kingdom. His feathers puffed out in contentment, he must feel safe.

Probably almost four minutes now, of his presence in my evergreen.

His contentment and presence startles me. 

Startling me out of negativity and into joy and peace and the thought that all is well and all will be well.

He knows he's enough just as he is.
I know that I'm enough, too.

This pause has unraveled anxiety about what is to come. I've been instead invited into the moment that is.

I surrender.

************************************

Blessings to you, 
Anne

What is your "right now"?

Joining in late for last week's Five Minute Friday post over at Kate Motaung's blog. The prompt for last Friday was "lose". 



In 2012 I got accepted to a grad school in Seattle into their Counseling Psychology program. I would have been a non traditional student, for sure, but I have felt called to help others in this way since my college days.

Because of circumstances beyond my control, I was not able to move from Iowa out to Seattle, WA with my hubby to attend grad school. 

Four years later, I am now unsure if I even want to go to grad school.

What gives? What makes you lose your focus, the purpose that seemed like it was burning a hole in my heart and (soon to be burning a hole in my pocket)?

I don't understand it at all. 

I have no desire right now to look into local programs. 

I read something from the Tiny Buddha website yesterday that one of my Facebook friends posted about purpose.

That nothing has to be done in a hurry. And, just because we don't know what to do right now, doesn't mean that "right now" doesn't have meaning.

That, to look at what is "right now" beckoning me, or calling me, is what I could do, that the "right now" can be my purpose.

Right now, my intuition, my gut is calling me to paint. I've been experimenting with acrylics and mixed media for a little over a year. 

I love what I've learned both on and off the canvas as I take bold, brave, courageous steps to make something out of nothing.

I'm not sure where this is leading me, but this is my "right now".

What is your "right now"?

********************************************

Blessings to you!

Anne

The sacredness of paying attention

How many times do I pass by things without giving them a notice at all? Just the other day, I was heading home from an errand on a commonly used road and missed my turn. Why? I was lost in my thoughts. I wasn't paying attention.

Last month, my husband and I toured Buchenwald Concentration Camp near Weimar, Germany. This was on a weekend between business meetings and we went here at my request.

When I passed through these grounds on foot, where thousands of people once suffered and many died, I was paying attention. I wasn't just passing through nonchalantly. 

standing in a concentration camp barrack space I looked down and saw 2 hearts

Everywhere I stepped foot in this place, though many of the original buildings were long gone replaced by rubble, I felt I was walking on sacred ground.

There was a peace there that is hard to describe to someone who hasn't been to a place like this. A place of suffering, and yet there was an eerie peacefulness there, a hush. A holiness that I can only describe as God's presence there. 

God in his grace and infinite mercy, present there to honor the memories of those who suffered. Those who were tortured and killed just because of who they were. They hadn't done anything wrong.

Before we left the grounds, we took a meandering path that led to an "ash grave". Supposedly where ashes from the ovens were buried.

The birds were singing the most beautiful songs in this place I've ever heard. I stood in my silence and looked up at the treetops. I saw no birds flying, or sitting on branches. Yet there was loud singing.

Could God have sent heavenly birds there to sing as an everlasting memorial to those who had gone?

I believe so.

______________________________________________


Blessings to you, 

~Anne


Thanks for stopping by today, friends! It's been awhile since I posted for Five Minute Friday. I'm happy to be back! Joining a flash mob of writers over at katemotaung.com for five minutes of free writing. No fancy edits. Head over there to see what everyone wrote on the prompt, "pass". 

in the here and now

Linking up with other writers today over at Kate Motaung's place for Five Minute Friday. Some weeks the words come easily and some weeks they don't. Five Minute Friday is all about writing for five minutes, not worrying about fancy edits. Just writing for the fun of it. Come on over and see what everyone else wrote on the prompt, "here". 

What if we all could live in the here and now.

I mean, now is all we have.

If we live in the past, either pining for a great past, or living in regret, it’s a waste of time and steals from the joy in the present moment.

If we live in the future (I’ve tried this), it’s called anxiety…being fearful over things that haven’t even happened yet. And, likely won’t happen the way my over active imagination has imagined it.

Here and now.

Focusing on the present moment is all we have.

Living in the here and now is something that I’m striving to do each day. I wish I could tell you that I’m a pro at it.

I can tell you that I’m a pro at trying.

I tend to live in the future, worrying over things I have no control over.

What if?

Such a bad choice of words if the negative is behind them, but what a good choice of words, if the positive is behind them.

What if I excel at ________________?

What if this relationship improves?

What if I get that project completed in record time?

Instead, I’m afraid to say that the end of “what if” leaves more questions than answers and leaves me living not in the here and now, but in the what if and when.

How about you? What kinds of things do you do to live in the here and now?

Painting and being creative helps me, as do fountains and reading my Bible. (an interesting grouping of odd things written rather quickly!)

Here’s to living not in the past or future, but in the here and now.

Blessings to you, friends!

~Anne

Silencing whispers of doubt

LInking up with other brave writers over at Kate's place today! Five Minute Friday is where we write for five minutes straight on a single word prompt. No worries about perfection or editing. Just writing for pure joy. Today's prompt is "whisper". 

Our lives are lived moment by moment, in the here and now, but how often do I live my daily life in the past? Ruminating over something I did or said. Thinking about how I could have done something better. 

Or how often do I live my life in the future of “what if”? 

What if I lose a loved one? 

What if I get sick?

Neither the whispers of the past nor the whispers of the future offer any good thing to my present moment. The present moment is all I have. 

Maybe this is why Jesus said, "Do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow has enough troubles of it’s own."

Of course Jesus would say that. That is one of the wisest comments I’ve ever heard, and the best one for good emotional and spiritual health. 

I think he knew that we’d be absolutely useless to ourselves 

and those we are with if we are always living in the past or 

the future and never the present moment.

Oh, I don’t mean that we should not look back with fond memories to the past. That is reminiscing about good times and good things. That is healthy. It starts to turn sour though if all we can think about are the regrets or should-have-dones.

How about you? Do you have trouble with living in the past? Does your mind come up with whispers of days gone where you wish you’d done something different? Do you tend to focus on the future and worry what might happen next?

I’ve been working very very hard this summer on living in the present moment. My mind and soul have given me a very good workout in this. I’ve tended to focus too much on what has gone wrong in the recent past, and worry that it won’t be different.

But, I’ve made up my mind to keep trying to live in the present and not let the whisper of doubt crowd out my current joy.

Blessings to you today, friend!

Here's to living in the present moment!

What happens on an ordinary Tuesday

He offered a friendly greeting and a smile while I was waiting in line at Wendy's. He had gray hair, suit, tie and an overcoat. He definitely looked like retirement age, but was certainly dressed for business. 

I wonder, why so dressed up on an ordinary Tuesday if you are retired?

Most of all, I noticed his smile with teeth showing that were showing their age. 

"Are you from around here?"

His words jolted me out of meal decision-making mode and into, what...did this stranger actually just ask me a question?

"I'm from Ankeny", I said with surprise that I'd been spoken to. 

He'd broken into my inner world of a small chili, side salad and a value fries. (yes, I did get the fries this time.)

"That's kind of far", he said.

So, I proceeded to tell this kind man why I was in this neck of the woods.

"We come here often, he said with a smile. Senior drinks."

I can only assume he was referring to his wife, who wasn't with him this time.


Then it was our turn, each of us getting our own cashier up at the counter. 


Out of no where. A friendly, welcome surprise on an ordinary Tuesday.


It took me by surprise, his words, his kind offering of conversation, his smile.



Why don't I strike up friendly conversations in line, with people I don't know, more often?

Sometimes I'll compliment the cashier at the grocery store on her earrings, but that's about how far I'll dare to take it. With a stranger.


Why don't I open myself up? Why don't I risk embarrassment if they look at me funny? Or say something rude? Or ignore me?


I need to get over myself and my fear of the unknown. I can have compassion on myself, yes. 

But, I can continue to urge myself to dare to speak a kind word to a stranger. To share in our common humanity. To lift someone's spirits. To risk.

I'm so glad that this man dared to greet a stranger in line.

His simple kindness changed the course of my ordinary Tuesday.

************************************

I'm linking up with Emily at Chatting at the Sky for Tuesdays Unwrapped. We're sharing what makes us pause and celebrate the moment. Discovering the gifts in the midst of the ordinary. On Tuesdays in December. Come on over and share in the celebration!

Dare to Be: Present with family {Day 26}

She told him, "Dad, it's okay to rest. You've worked hard in this life. You can rest."

She knew. We all knew that Henry's eighty-three years had been lived to their fullest measure. The hands that lay limp on bed sheets were once strong and hardly ever resting. 

Nine days had slipped their way through time between the dreaded call that he fell to when the angels took him home. 

During these nine days, there were many glimpses beyond the velum-like divide between earth and heaven. I saw this in laughter and in tears. I saw this while cooking pasta with two nieces to feed an army of family.

I heard this in hymns sung by the hospice bedside and scripture read to closed eyes and shallow breaths. I saw it in good-byes cried by grand-daughters who knew that they wouldn't see their grandpa again in his time on earth. 

Glimpses of the Divine were everywhere in the ICU and hospice where pieces and parts of a twenty six member family camped out for nine whole days. Sadness. Of course. Hope and joy. Without a doubt. 

*****************************************************

The snow is coming down gently around us as if on white pillows as we huddle together in the small unheated Veterans cemetery chapel. My two twenty-something sons and their dad joined hands with a couple of cousins and an uncle or two to accompany their grandfather's flag draped casket into it's prominent place in front. 

My mother-in-law, pulling her black coat around her cold shoulders is motioned to the red capped chair front and center. Her sons and daughters of two generations file in beside and behind her and sit down on cold plastic folding chairs. 

My pastor sister-in-law takes her place behind the wooden podium up front to lead us in the committal of her father to the ground.

I don't recall all the tear stained words she says on Tuesday morning. But, I think again and again how good and appropriate that this good man's daughter be saying these final words to honor him. 

As a family, we drew close and hugged a little tighter.

Brothers and sisters by blood and by Christ were drawn together during this time of grief in ways that had never been before to comfort, make life altering decisions and use their gifts to give to this special dad and grandpa and to each other. 

How can I say that this was the worst of times, but also the best of times? 



Have you lost someone special to you? Have you experienced the pain of loss, but also the love of God in the midst of your loss? I'd love to hear your story.

Click on my button to see a list of all 31 Days posts. Thanks for stopping by to visit!

This post is part of a 31 Day series on the topic Dare to Be and linking up with about 1500 other bloggers on hundreds of topics. Come on over to The Nester to visit!

Dare to Be: Present {Days 24-25}

How do you talk to someone whose eyes are closed tight? Someone who is not moving except for labored breathing and they may die at any minute? How do you talk to someone who will not give any indication that they heard what you said?

For the next few days in hospice, I knew my calling. My calling was to be present. 

To be present to my father-in-law during his last days on earth, whatever that would look like. 

Every chance I got, I touched his shoulder. I smoothed his hair. I held his hand. I counted it all a privilege that I will never forget.

His hands had driven a semi across many miles during his lifetime. When we had lived in a different state, his hands worked hard at doing whatever we needed done when they visited. His hands broke bread in church, and served in any which way that was needed. Now, his hand could not grasp mine.

I counted it a privilege to hold his hand in these moments. He was not aware of me being there. 

Or was he? 

They say that even if a person is not responsive, the last of the senses to go is hearing. And touch.

One by one, his children found a time to say their good byes. My husband said them to his dad with a few others in the room. One son wanted to say his alone.

I wanted to figure out a way to just say them.

He had been my father-in-law for 29 years. I wanted to tell him thank you for being such a wonderful father-in-law. I wanted to be able to thank him for welcoming me into the family. A girl not from Iowa, but from Nebraska. Someone not from their son's group of friends. A "foreigner". 

The room finally emptied of people. The chair was open next to his bed on the day before he died. I sat down. I held his hand. It was puffy and kind of red, except for the blue that was beginning to form on his fingernails. This was a sign there wasn't much time left. 

I held his hand gently, sitting next to him. And, I thanked him for all those things as if he was looking right at me. I told him through tears. I was present.

I am grateful for that chance. 

Being present is something I am daring myself to keep doing. Even when it might seem awkward or uncomfortable.

Being fully present brought indescribable blessing.

Click on my button to see a list of all 31 days posts. Thanks so much for visiting me!

This post is part of a 31 Day series on the topic Dare to Be and linking up with about 1500 other bloggers on hundreds of topics. Come on over to The Nester to visit!

Dare to Be:: Embracing here and now {Day 7}

Have you ever felt like a misfit toy? Like you were supposed to be there, but you are still here? 

But, no matter what you do, things are just beyond your grasp of being able to make things happen?

I know what it's like. I'm there right now.

And, it's hard.

{Read my story here.}


I'm asking God a lot these days about why he still has me where I am. Feeling like I am not fulfilling my potential. Wondering what His purpose is for me now.

I feel like I'm harboring gifts he's put inside me like a diamond ring hidden under layers of cake. 

I had a real sleeping dream several months ago, that I was in this new place. There.

The place where my God sized dream is. 

It was so real. Down to the detail of the dated carpet in our new apartment. 

What did this mean? Had God just dropped that dream, that vision, into me?  To give me a glimpse of my dream fulfilled? 

I do not know.

It seems sometimes that my heart is already parking itself in this new place that in real life I am not close to being yet.

I'm still not there physically. I'm here. 

I wonder if God gets tired of me asking the same questions over and over.

Why am I still here and not there? What are you doing? What is my purpose?

Finally, as if on silent cat feet, God softly whispers.

I've given you work to do now. It's here.

It's now.

The now that is right now in front of your face is not wasted.

Now has purpose.

It might not look like what you wanted and envisioned it to look like, but I have you where you are at this appointed time by no accident.

Your being here has good reason.

Trust Me with your here and your there.

Trust me with now and trust me with later.

Okay, God, I think I get it. But, you might have to remind me tomorrow.

How about you? Do you have the challenge of embracing here and now, while you are waiting to be there? I'd love to hear your comments.

Click my button to see a list of all 31 Days posts. Thanks so much for stopping!

~Anne

Ironing as sanctuary

Ironing is a rare occasion for me. Other than these jeans, it rarely happens. But, every time I wash these great jeans I got at Goodwill, the fly needs to be ironed smooth so the zipper doesn't show. I know, details.

So, I pull the ironing board down from it's home behind the laundry room door. I take down the iron, too, and plug it in, and make sure it's on. I've learned that having it on is a bonus. While I wait for the iron to heat up, I fold clothes and towels that have buzzed me from the dryer then throw the washer load into the dryer and turn it on. 

I lay my jeans on the ironing board rather awkwardly to get at the fly right. I grab the iron, making sure not to touch the zipper with it because then it would be too hot to put on. As I run the iron across the fabric, I give it a puff of steam, just as an added surety that the fly will get smooth and stay that way. 

I had been struggling with a bit of anxiety off and on while getting ready. I had been trying to practice deep breathing. Telling myself to stay calm, that there was absolutely nothing to fear this morning in my own home. 

I noticed something as soon as I started ironing my jean's fly right there by the running dryer. I started to get calmer. Just automatically, my breathing relaxed and got deeper and more steady. I started to pay attention to the way my body felt in the surroundings of my laundry room. Warm running dryer, hot moist iron with warm steam rising to greet my face. The feel of the warm denim under my hand as I guided it for pressing. 

As I was standing there with warmth touching my face, I thought of my mother in law with all of the t-shirts she used to iron for her three boys and husband. Yes, I've mocked her for that. And it dawned on me. Ironing for her was probably her sanctuary. Her place to find peace in the midst of a hectic and busy household.And, why not? Hands gliding over the fabric that clothes each loved one. A heart to serve her family. A heart to serve God. 

Ironing felt like that for me today. A sanctuary of calm and delight. A place of simple joy. And, I felt God there. I actually ironed three more shirts to stay in that place longer.

eyes wide open: the present moment {day 24}

I want to become a  better noticer of what is going on inside of me and around me. That was my quest at the beginning of this 31 days of blogging, but I'm not sure I'm really hitting on what I want to hit on yet. I want to live in the moment I am in. To become more present.

Last night my husband said, "C'mon, we're going to see the sunset." So we hop in the van for a drive to a lake that is not too far from our house. Saylorville Lake. 

As I sit here tonight, I'm thinking of all the things I noticed last night at the lake.

The mini-waves lapping at the beach.
The gorgeous round orange sun getting lazy and closer to the horizon.
The crying sea gulls gathering on the warm parking lot, maybe for the night?
Three sea gulls flying silhouetted between us and the sun. 
Sun shimmering over still water. 

I don't remember what we were talking about on the driveway after we got back, but I remember really looking at my husband's eyes when he was talking. I noticed how blue they were. And, he smiled and chuckled at something I said. He was genuinely happy. 

It was one of those rare times that I just really looked and my mind was with the looking. I wasn't  thinking of what I was going to say next. I was not thinking anything except for that very moment.

I want to do this more often.

Living in the present moment is to be fully aware of what is going on inside me and around me. I believe this is part of the abundant life that Jesus meant for me. To be a noticer. I'm going to keep practicing the Present Moment.

see day 1 for a list of all 31 posts