Heavy Duty Prayer Book

Yesterday I read most of a little book entitled The Power of Prayer, a compilation of essays on prayer edited by Dale Salwak.  Often when reading a book like this, I’ll open it up and read a paragraph or two at random. If that section looks good, then I’ll read some more. If not, I’ll progress to another section. This book, however, was filled with such good stuff that I ended up going to the Table of Contents, checking out the contributors, and then reading the whole thing. Some of the essays are “heavy duty” and require so much pondering and ruminating (love that word) that I’m certain I’ll dip into this book frequently.

 

The mix of authors is as varied as their “takes” on the subject of prayer. Well-known religious leaders, professors, a Jewish spiritual storyteller, a native American earth wisdom teacher and author, professors, doctors, an actress (remember Dale Evans?), and others are included. Jimmy Carter is there; so is Billy Graham, both of whom have a lot of name recognition. Mother Teresa’s thoughts on prayer are there as well, and I particularly enjoyed reading them since I have such tremendous respect for this tiny little saint who lived and worked among the people of  Calcutta. The secret to her life of service and love is simple; “I pray.” Marianne Williamson, one of my favorite female authors is included, and she reminds the reader that “through prayer, we find what we cannot find elsewhere: a peace that is not of this world.”

 

While I enjoyed reading all of the selections, the one I’ve chosen to share today is from the work of Stella Terrill Mann, author of bestselling Change Your Life Through Prayer. This particular quote caught my eye because of a blogging buddy who’s currently asking the question, “Oh God, what’s next?” I sure hope she reads this post today. And I hope that others who are wondering where to go with their lives or what to do or what’s next will read it too.

 

“If you have a desire to do a thing, count it as proof positive that you can do it no matter what the obstacles. Desire and fulfillment are two sides of one whole. If it were not possible for you to fulfill the desire, it would not be possible to entertain it either. The desire is God’s silent plea to let Him work through you. It is God’s silent guarantee that He will see you through if you will but begin….The more sorely we are dissatisfied with our situation in life, the more tormented we are by an urge to do a thing, the more certain it is that God is  inviting us to take the step.”

 

Can you see why I chose that quote? Pretty powerful, huh? Mann, like the other writers on prayer, feels that the answers are there if we’d just learn to listen. For more effective listening, silence is needed. Hmmm. That’s a problem for most of us in this busy, hustle and bustle, noisy world, but I’m giving it a shot today because I need answers.

Sunday Reminders

I ALWAYS benefit spiritually, intellectually, socially, and emotionally when I attend church. For those who are skeptics, you should try it for yourselves. If you have tried it and don’t feel nourished in the above four areas, maybe you’re going to the wrong church, wrong meaning that it just isn’t the right “fit” for you.

 

Anyway, here are a couple of tidbits from today. Today was “Missionary Day” in that two young missionaries and the ward mission leader gave talks. The first missionary began his remarks by reminding his listeners that everyday was missionary day for his companion and him, and then he proceeded to sing a song that touched my soul. His talk was excellent, a great combination of scripture, illustrations, and personal applications. The second talk was superb as well. I couldn’t help but think of how I wished that their mothers could hear their sons talk about the gospel of Jesus Christ.

 

Anyway, towards the end of his talk, the second speaker said that he wanted to make a few remarks to the youth in attendance but that the rest of us were welcome to listen too. I’m glad I did because I’ve been thinking about the story he told ever since. Basically, it was a story of a young man who struggled with all sorts of issues while in high school. Frequently depressed and confused, he went through a dark period in which he felt that he could never please his father and was moving further away from the teachings of his youth. School was a chore, and the young man was drifting along with no direction for his life.

 

One day after an athletic event and a fight with his father, this young man was feeling worse than ever. After everyone left the locker room and he was assured of his privacy, he dropped to his knees and asked God if he was really there. “I just want to know if You’re there and if You care about me. Please send me a sign. Speak to me.” (paraphrase)  Nothing happened. Nothing at all. Although he stayed on his knees for six or seven minutes, there was nothing but silence. Thoroughly dejected, he got up and left the locker room. He stopped at the water fountain to get a sip of water, and when he looked up, there was a friend of his standing there looking at him, a girl he had known for a long time. They looked at each other for a moment, and she said something like (another paraphrase), “Tom, I can’t believe I’m actually standing here…and that I came back to the school to find you, but I felt like I needed to tell you something I’ve been thinking about for several days. I just want you to know that your Heavenly Father loves you and cares about your happiness. Well, I guess that’s about it. Bye.”

 

The speaker revealed that he was the young dejected, confused, directionless athlete who had turned his life around that very afternoon. His prayer had been answered, and he KNEW for certain that his Creator was indeed aware of his needs, doubts, and problems. Furthermore, the young elder told the congregation, it’s the same for all of us. We all have the same loving Heavenly Father who is aware of our needs and is always there waiting for us to communicate with him.

 

I already knew the above. Today was just a reminder, and going to church and hearing that story was just an affirmation. DH wants me to watch a movie with him so I’ll save the intellectual, social, and emotional lifts for another time. For now, suffice it to say that Valencia and I had a fabulous heart-to-heart talk, thus renewing my thankfulness for friends and relationships.  

Listen to your Broccoli

Titles are important. I probably wouldn’t have read a book entitled Some Instructions on Writing and Life, but I was captivated by one titled Bird by Bird. What could such a book tell me about life and writing? Whatever it was, the title itself held the promise of something fun, a little offbeat, and yes, instructive too. I wasn’t wrong. This, to me, is one of the best books I’ve ever read about writing. Although I’m not a fiction writer, Lamott’s wit and wisdom applies to me and to anyone else who’s ever felt the desire to put pen to paper…or fingers to keyboard.Everyone who reads Bird by Bird will find something to appreciate. I like the way Lamott shares such wonderful advice while sharing experiences from her life. Her love for her father, Sam, and Pammy are there; so are her impressions from the nursing home, the Special Olympics, school lunches, and the death of a five-month-old child. Sad but funny is the experience with her agent who said, “I’m sorry.” Read it and you’ll see what I mean.

Are there secrets to writing? Yes and no. Lamott credits the “secret” to Natalie Goldberg who, when someone asked her for the best possible writing advice she had to offer, held up a yellow legal pad, pretended her fingers held a pen, and scribbled away. When Lamott’s students ask her that question, she picks up a piece of paper and pantomimes scribbling. In other words, just do it. Oh, and when you’re scribbling away, remember that “Perfectionism is the voice of the oppressor.”

To give you an idea of Lamott’s sense of humor, she quotes a friend who says that the first draft is the down draft because you focus on getting it down. The second is the up draft, the one that you fix it up. “And the third draft is dental draft, where you check very tooth, to see if it’s loose or cramped or decayed, or even, God help us, healthy.” Gotta love that!

For anyone tired of reading about dangling modifiers and pronoun agreement, read something refreshing like Bird by Bird. You’ll be glad you did. And if you’re curious about the title of this post, then you’ll have to read the chapter called “Broccoli.”

 

 

Sea Shells by the Seashore

When summer comes, I find myself getting beach fever and can hardly muster the energy and will to go to work. For 28 years, even though I was working about 15 miles from the strand itself, I could “sense” the nearness of the ocean’s roar and the sandy beach with the sea birds standing as sentinels as they looked “as one” at some sight unseen by my human eyes. Now, 130 miles away, it’s not so easy. Sure, the warm wave pools are still there, as are the squealing children, the shell seekers, and the incoming waves. It’s just not the same, though. I need a vacation, a weekend trip to the seashore.

 

What is the hold that a beach has on me? Whatever it is, I think it casts the same spell on millions of others as well. Last week, I came across a little book entitled Gift from the Sea that I read many years ago when I was a younger mother. There were many passages that spoke to my life and situation at the time, and when I skimmed the book yesterday, I was amazed to see all of the things I had underlined. The passages took me down memory lane as I recalled the sometimes overwhelming responsibilities and “occupations” that I had, most of them centered around the home and family. Anne Morrow Lindbergh, author of this timeless volume, remarks that that saints were rarely married women because of the distractions inherent in raising children and running a house. “Human relationships with their myriad pulls–woman’s normal occupations in general run counter to creative life, or contemplative life, or saintly life.”

 

Although it was written many decades ago, the challenges and issues faced by Lindbergh are the same ones faced by women in today’s crazy, bustling world. In fact, although women in Siberia, Cameroon, or Ceylon might not have her specific set of circumstances, they can still identify with Lindbergh’s ponderings about a woman’s life, her obligations, her relationships, and her needs. She lived in an upscale suburb of Connecticut and was the mother of five children, and yet there’s something in her writing that can touch the souls of women everywhere whether in a grass hut, McMansion, or mountain shack.

 

The chapters in Gift from the Sea center on Lindbergh’s musings during a two-week vacation at the shore. Leaving husband, children, and house behind, she lives in a bare beach cabin without heat, telephone, plumbing, hot water, rugs, or curtains. Loving her simple beach life, Lindbergh takes a shell at a time and describes it in relation to other things in a woman’s life. For instance, the moon shell reminds her that quiet time, solitude, contemplation, and “something of one’s own” is needed. The double-sunrise represents the pure relationship found in early stages of friendship and marriage, and she reminds the reader that there is no permanent return to an old form of relationship since all are in the process of change. The oyster bed symbolizes the middle years of marriage and family, especially as the home itself grows and expands to accommodate the growing family.

 

Now in midlife, I can better understand her affinity for all the shells as reminders that each cycle of the wave, the tide, and the relationship is valid. When Lindbergh leaves her seaside home away from home, she sweeps several shells into her pocket to remind her that the sea recedes and returns eternally. The shells serve as her “island eyes” and remind her of lessons learned about solitude, closeness to nature, life of the spirit, and the cycles of human relationships. I probably have a hundred or more shells at home, most of which are on my back porch. Thanks to re-reading this book, now I can better understand their significance and symbolism.

 

As a P.S., my DH and I are going to Myrtle Beach for a few days during the week of the Fourth. I think he’s planning to play golf, read, and eat shrimp and oystsers. I’m planning to read, walk, relax, and people watch ON THE BEACH. And yes, I have plenty of sunscreen, Doc.

Ten Years from Today

A couple of decades ago a friend and I were sitting on the beach reading, chatting, and watching our little girls frolic on the strand. We did that a lot. There was nothing we liked better than packing a lunch, loading a cooler with ice and soft drinks, putting supplies (towels, sunscreen, books) in our beach bags and heading to the beach for a couple of hours. Those were the days, my friend, the lazy, crazy days of summer, “days of soda and pretzels and beer.”

 

As fond as I am of beach memories, that’s not the real purpose of this post. It’s to share something from a book that Lynn and I read that summer, a book that changed both of our lives. Entitled If You Don’t Know Where You’re Going, You’ll Probably End Up Somewhere Else by David Campbell, the book’s message was both simple and profound. You need to think seriously about where you want to go and then come up with some specific plans to get there. This probably sounds like one of the dozen or so goal setting books you’ve already read, but this one is different in that the author has an engaging, upbeat writing style that manages to keep your attention while addressing some pretty heavy duty issues. After reading it, Lynn and I got our acts together.

 

There are several concepts I could write about today, but the one that’s most on my mind is the one in which Campbell talks about a long range plan, the one that you want to be living in ten years. What do you see yourself doing in ten years? He then goes on to remind the readers that things can happen, plans can go awry. Regardless of whatever else happens, however, Campbell speaks a simple truth: You will be ten years older.

 

When Lynn and I read this slim little volume, we were in our 30’s, enjoying our children, our jobs, and yes, yes, yes, our days in the sun. Our husbands were decent, hard working men, our parents were still alive and healthy, and life stretched before us. Sure, there were things we’d like to change…but later, next year…or maybe the one after that. One day, we dreamed, we’d have a different house, a bigger bank account, a more exciting job. Next year. One day.

 

Campbell told his readers that if they were 17 and reading the book, that in ten years they’d be 27 and that the likelihood of certain things happening were pretty good. Maybe the person would be out of high school and maybe college too. He or she would be out of the parental home, have a job, own a car and maybe a house, etc. In other words, the teen would be an adult. Interesting, we thought. A page or two later, we read the part that shook us up a bit. Campbell said that if the reader were 37 and reading the book, then in ten years she would be 47!! Huh? Lynn and I didn’t like thinking of that one little bit. Furthermore, the author said that by that time a person would be well into middle age, the children would be leaving home (or GONE), and she would have become about as useful as she was going to be to the employer. The person’s income would probably be about as high as it was going to be.

 

Yes, I know there are all kinds of exceptions to this, but for us, this prediction struck a responsive chord. Here’s what happened. She and her husband both resigned from their jobs that summer and began working at educational institutions in another area of the state. Both are happier and more fulfilled. There may be days when they miss the days of lounging on the beach and eating ham sandwiches gritty with sand, but if so, they can afford a little beach vacation.

 

I just ordered an updated version of this book and am in the process of rereading it. In ten years, I’ll be in later adulthood, retired and hopefully back on the beach reading books, going for long walks, watching the happy frolicking children, and feeling the warmth of the sun on my skin lathered in sunscreen. An occasional ham sandwich gritty with sand would be nice too.

 

Over twenty years have passed since Lynn and I first read Campbell’s words, and it seems like yesterday. Bottom line. How old will you be in ten years, and what kind of life do you see yourself living? More importantly, what are you doing today to prepare for it?

Baby Mama

Yes, “times are achangin” as they say, and yet that doesn’t necessarily mean that the changes are for the better. One such recent change has to do with the relatively blasé attitude of young men and women towards the birth of children. To be a little more specific…towards the birth of children to single mothers. 

This is not a “holier than thou” post but rather one of concern and dismay, concern for the babies and their mamas and dismay that so many beautiful young women continue to find themselves in this situation. While I’m aware that unwedded pregnancies have occurred since the dawn of time, what makes today different is that people are well aware of exactly what causes pregnancy, and they are inundated with information on birth control.

 

Oh, and the dads aren’t going to get off the hook. I’m equally baffled at the frequency with which these deadbeat dads are so cavalier about their offspring and the women who give them birth. This week Senator Obama had a few choice words to say to these young men about taking their responsibilities more seriously. I mean, good grief, these are children, children who need plenty of TLC, not to mention milk, nourishing food, clothing, shelter…you know, the basics.

 

It’s heartbreaking to realize that one in six children lives in poverty. After all, what kinds of jobs are out there for women with little or no education, many of them teens? Even if Mama does find a job, who will watch the children while she’s out earning money for the basics? And then what happens when she gets sick, or worse, when the baby gets sick? Who will pay for the doctor visits and the medicine?

 

This topic is controversial and far too complex for someone like me to even begin to resolve. All I know is that babies need a love AND a whole lot more, and I’m not so sure that many young parents fully realize this. Nor do they realize the everlasting ramifications of having a baby. Even in the best of situations, raising children is taxing, extremely rewarding but also difficult. How can a young single uneducated mother do it  alone?

 

You might be wondering what led to this scathing (?) post. Observation, reading, teaching, and a growing anxiety for the next generation are part of it. Senator Obama’s call to action let me know that I’m not the only person who sees and ponders this problem. And finally, there was this term from urbandictionary.com that I read the other day. The tone is lighthearted, but the truth behind it is piercingly painful.

 

The word for June 13 is baby mama

The mother of your child(ren), whom you did not marry and with whom you are not currently involved.

Oh her? She ain’t nothing to me now, girl, she just my baby mama. So, can I get your number?

Ladies, wake up. You and your children deserve the best that life and love have to offer.

Little Reader

One of the reasons I love these pictures is because they’re both so adorable. The other reason is because it makes me happy to see my 14 month old granddaughter becoming a bibliophile at such a young age. Not content to merely pore over the book’s contents, she also has to carry it around from room to room, perhaps to keep it from the hands of her older siblings or perhaps to find someone to read it to her.

When Carrie, her sweet mama, sent me these pictures, I told her that Emma’s great grandparents AND her great-great grandparents would be proud. They were all such avid readers, and they instilled the love of books in my brothers, sisters, and yours truly. Many are the hours that we spent in the dusty rooms of the old county library choosing books, especially in the sultry summertime. My mother once told me of seeing my Aunt Polly, my father’s sister, feeding her infant twins while reading a book. Hey, why not?

It’s so gratifying to see that Carrie is continuing the reading tradition in her home. Her precious baby has no idea of the vistas that the world of words will open for her.  Speaking of which, where did I put my copy of The #1 Ladies’ Detective Agency?  I must get back to it and find out more about Precious and her life in Botswana.

Update on Prigs

For my LDS friends, the post on the cold self-righteous prigs WAS NOT directed to any of you but rather to any and all Christians who profess to be followers of Christ and yet whose walk and talk don’t align. And I’m “guilty as charged” just like everyone else. Since he’s the person I’m around most often, DH often gets reminders to let me know whenever I’m a little too judgmental, ungrateful, complaining, sarcastic, greedy, materialistic, selfish, or prideful. He tries his best to keep me on the straight and narrow, but alas, I do a lot of wobbling and stumbling.

Here’s an example that might convey more of what I wanted to say. Yesterday a young woman shared that several people had made some negative, hurtful remarks to and about her when they learned that she was going to have a baby. Did I mention that she’s single? Does that really matter in the way she’s treated? Does it make her less “worthy” as a mother?  Of course not.

This might be an even better example. I once knew a woman who was divorced and raising three sons on her own. She had a minimum wage job and was struggling to make ends meet. Knowing her capabilities, I encouraged her to enroll in some college courses, but it seemed that one door shut after another.  She received financial aid, but there was no one to watch her children while she was in class. If she left them alone, tongues would cluck. Today she might be more successful because of online courses. Oh, but maybe not. She might not be able to afford a computer, and she wouldn’t feel ethical about using one at work. What about on campus? Well, that might work except that there were three children waiting for dinner, homework assistance, and bathtime. The reason I recall this situation so well is because there some who said she brought it on herself and because of her poor choices, she got exactly what she deserved. Did anyone offer to watch the boys even one time? Did anyone bake a casserole to take it to her? No. No one. Not once. To be honest, although I felt compassion, I didn’t help either.

Okay, final example. When I first started blogging, I read a post that I thought was a joke…really I did. The person talked about getting herself and her children all dressed in their Sunday best and going to church. While there, she noticed a person who looked a little Gothic, another that looked homeless, and still another that had disruptive children (not well-behaved like hers). In the parking lot, she noticed old cars, some of them dirty. She said (I’m not making this up) that she sadly wondered what Christ would say if He were to come and see all of those dirty, poorly dressed, ill-behaved people in His house. When I read this post, I was incredulous. I actually wrote her (you know how we bloggers are!) to comment on her attitude, and she acted as though I had a problem.

Am I looking at this wrong? Am I looking at it right but perhaps going a little overboard? I’m sitting here wondering how different the lives of the mother and her three sons would be today if someone had encouraged and helped instead of criticized and condemned.

 

 

Jeanita and Joan Ella

There’s so much I could write about! Truly, my mind is filled with topics and ideas, and if only I didn’t have to work every day and take care of a myriad of other daily living issues I’d be freer to write about them all. I keep thinking that one day when I retire, I’m going to live an ideal existence in which I divide my time between reading, writing, visiting my grandchildren, and watching Law and Order. Until that time, I’ll continue posting a little bit now and then and working on my other “projects” as time allows.

This afternoon the most important thing I have on my mind is the importance of friends. I came to this area about six years ago after living on the coast of SC for 28 years, and I DID NOT want to leave the shore. I absolutely loved everything about it from the roar of the ocean and the sea birds to the tourists (yes, even them) and the tacky beachwear stores.  Still, when the time came for me to leave, I did and am trying not to be like Lot’s wife.  

During the last week, I’ve realized just how many people I’ve met who have enriched my life greatly. The first moment of awareness came when the Relief Society president in our ward sent an email to the women in our church who had email addresses, and I was astounded at the number of names that I recognized, names that meant nothing to me six years ago. Now I know names, faces, quirks, talents, decorating styles, and dreams of most of them. Some I know more intimately and we share ideas, concerns, encouragement, and support. Connie and I are going for a walk tonight, and I’m so looking forward to hearing all about the recent retreat she attended.

I belong to two book clubs, one church related and the other work related, and through those associations, I’ve gotten to know people from all walks of life on different levels. Then there are my work mates, my colleagues like Martha, Lisa, Carol, Jim, Mark, and Myles and too many others to list. Six years ago I was whining about leaving Ella and June; now I still have them AND all these other wonderful people. Recently, my son got married in Myrtle Beach, thus giving me the opportunity to see the faces of these dear friends of yesteryear.

Speaking of treasured friends from the past, last week a chum from childhood lost her father, and as Jeanita and Joan Ella and I got together to discuss our lives, families, and careers, it was as if we had just seen each other the week before.  We realized once again the importance of “relationship maintenance” and are planning a November trip to NYC. November 20, right Ladies? Lest I forget, I’ve met dozens of blogging buddies from all over the United States (and maybe other countries), and all have added flavor and zest to my life. Hayden rocks!  And how can I forget the hundreds (thousands) of students I’ve met in the past six years?

All of this makes me wonder how many more people out there are potential friends. I’ve heard that there are no uninteresting people, just uninterested ones, and I think that’s true.

Cold, Self-Righteous Prigs

I recently rediscovered C.S. Lewis’ Mere Christianity, and while the entire book is fabulously thought provoking, one particular passage grabbed my attention earlier this week. My daughter Elizabeth and I were talking about sin, what it is and isn’t, and what it means to be a follower of Christ. Is it a sin to miss church a Sunday or two? Is it sinful not to pay tithing? How about committing adultery? Is that sinful? Is gossiping about other people wrong enough to be considered a sin? Is homosexuality a “sin against nature” that offends God? As we were chatting (I was doing most of the talking while she listened somewhat patiently), I recalled a passage from Mere Christianity. I loved it when I first read it, and I love it now. It’s fantastic.

 

“If anyone thinks that Christians regard unchastity as the supreme vice, he is quite wrong. The sins of the flesh are bad, but they are the least bad of all sins. All the worst pleasures are purely spiritual: the pleasure of putting people in the wrong, of bossing and patronizing and spoiling sport, and back-biting, the pleasures of power, of hatred. For there are two things inside me, competing with the human self which I must try to become. They are the Animal self and the Diabolical self. The Diabolical self is the worse of the two. That is why a cold, self-righteous prig who goes regularly to church may be far nearer to hell than a prostitute. But, of course, it is better to be neither.”

 

That’s pretty powerful stuff, Folks. The church pews are filled with self-righteous, back-biting, gossipy people who tend to judge others unfairly and who are so filled with pride that they’ve forgotten the source of all their blessings. At the same time, there may be someone who’s “strayed” from the path and yet who has a heart full of love.

 

Which had you rather be? Can you see yourself in both? I’m not enough of a Christian scholar to know for certain why Lewis felt this way, but I’m wondering if it’s because the sins of the Diabolical self hurt other people so much. What do you think?