What a Dad Does That Really Matters

A dad who knows God knows himself and introduces Him to his children without even trying.

I’m not talking about church or religion.

I mean teaching your children who they are and how to grow spiritually by:

• the way you talk to them,
• remembering them,
• playing with them,
• listening to them
• teaching them by example
• forgiving them
• respecting them
• loving them
• sacrificing for them
• leading them to do the same for others
• etc.

Maybe you”ve taught your child or someone else’s child to talk to God, to wonder and ask questions, and listen for answers. Perhaps you’ve shown him or her all about God with how you live your life. I hope so.

My father taught me to see God. He never even used the name “God”. He lived in a loving way with me.

Because of that I know who I am and that I matter in the Universe.

There’s nothing else that could ever compensate for that.

In the “end”, it’ll be all that matters to me, to you, to everyone; to remember what we already know – the stuff that’s deep inside that gets lost and forgotten.

The stuff that matters.

In the end.

I miss my dad and his simple ways.

Being Present for Presents

“There are No real coincidences in life for those with faith strong enough to recognize coincidences for what they really are: intricate pieces of the providential design God created for each of our lives” ~Delia Parr

 

My mom’s car rolled into a tree and has been in the car shop for over a week.

“You’re not going to like this,” she said on the other end of the phone right after it happened. Maybe she was referring to my new and temporary roll as chaffeur? 

Actually, I like it very much. I’ve had fun. I think she has, too.

Have you ever read the story of Eeyore’s birthday in the Winnie the Pooh book? 

Here’s the story in a nutshell (and here’s the whole story if you’re so inclined to read it. HERE):

Pooh eats the honey that he was going to give Eeyore as a present, but gives him the empty pot nevertheless.

Piglet is running with the balloon he has for Eeyore, trips and pops it, but gives him the popped balloon anyways.

Eeyore, much to their surprise, isn’t dismayed at all, but is delighted to sit in front of the “Useful Pot” from Pooh, sticking the broken balloon from Piglet into it and pulling it out over and over again. 

That is my favorite story for many reasons. The image of Piglet exploding the balloon is one of them. But another image I have in my mind that makes me smile is Eeyore. Pooh and Piglet expect him to be really bummed about his presents. But they turn out to be perfect. And he’s happy.

Pooh just had to tell Eeyore that the empty pot wasn’t just a pot before Eeyore could make the mental shift. 

Eeyore was left with two gifts that fit perfectly together. But both seemed to be random “accidents”:

Pooh’s hungry belly called.

Piglet’s hurrying popped the balloon, leaving the rubber remains.

Those gifts were created by “accidents.” Actually, they were uncovered. They were there all the time, but needed a little tweaking. Pooh, always the one to “go with the flow” was the one to change direction in what could have been seen as a dismal situation.

I’ve done things, met people and shared moments with my mom that I wouldn’t have had if her car hadn’t rolled into the tree. I felt very much “in the flow” this week. Sure, we’re both struggling to match work schedules and to overcome mental and physical fatigue. But the stories that keep showing up are so energizing. 

Who knows what’ll happen today? It’s raining and blowing hard. Again.

Perhaps it’s a day to find the Pooh Within? I hope you do. It’s fun.

 

I’ll leave you with this thought I found from Rhonda Byrne:

“You are receiving thousands of messages from the Universe every single day. Learn to become aware of this communication from the Universe, who is speaking to you and guiding you in every moment. There are no accidents and no coincidences. Every sign you notice, every word you hear spoken, every color, every scent, every sound, every event and situation is the Universe speaking to you, and you are the only one who knows their relevance to you, and what the communication is saying.

Use your eyes to see! Use your ears to listen! Use all of your senses, because you are receiving communication through them all!”

 

 

 

 

What If Today…You Gave Your Heart a Hug?

“The heart has reasons that reason cannot know.” ~Blaise Pascal

“Do your eyes get hot and you have to cry?” James asked. He has asked me that question twice in two weeks. I guess that’s how he feels when he knows that the tears are brimming, and threatening to break through the dam of a stoic heart.

Yesterday we were hurrying to the bus stop to meet Kenny and Madeleine in the rain when I remembered the Chinese Forget-Me-Nots I’d planted 10 days earlier. There they were, sprouting all on their own, no help from me.

That’s how I experience tears from a hurting heart; sprouting from the depths, covered up with thick mulch. pushing themselves to the surface, demanding to be seen. They never need my help, and rarely remind me of their presence lurking below the surface, their source of nourishment being unfinished business and sometimes regrets and sorrows.

Problem for me is that those feelings aren’t who I am, but they end up defining me when I don’t “manage” them or when I unconsciously expect other people to manage them for me. You see, I feel things deeply and tend to over-share with people. And that can overwhelm people unnecessarily. I’m okay with vulnerability. But this is different. This is like walking around naked all the time!

Just yesterday I’d been joyfully going about, spending the morning  with my mom, napping peacefully in the middle of the day, waking refreshed and ready to spend more time with her in the evening. We laughed, talked, solved problems and thoroughly enjoyed each other.

So, the sadness that poked through as I climbed the cellar stairs was not a welcome visitor this morning. Why the randomness? Why today? Memories were flooding in. I’d plug one hole and another would burst open, threatening to overflow and overtake all the good feelings that were struggling for time and space to make new memories today, tomorrow and the next day.

Pushing down the feelings as hard as I could I realized I wasn’t going to win. But I didn’t feel like crying either. Instead I did something new. And remarkably, it felt right.

I finished my ascent of the stairs and mentally took my heart out and gave it a hug.

(I know. Sounds strange. Even to me.)

I’ve been up for a few hours and have had to do a lot of “stuff” already. So far, so good, as they say. My heart is sad, but I’m not. I consider that a minor miracle! Don’t get me wrong. I love a good hug. And I’ll take one any day, for any reason. But I need to live as I’m living. Do you know what I mean? I want to experience joy…even with sadness poking through every now and again.

I’ve learned that  you can’t go around denying your feelings. You can try, but they will make themselves known somehow, just like my Forget-Me-Nots, probably when you least expect it.

May as well acknowledge them when they pop up ’cause the source is easier to identify when they first sprout.

So….give your heart a hug when it needs it.

Just a thought.

What If Today…You Told Someone That They’re Amazing?

“You yourself, as much as anybody in the entire universe, deserve your love and affection”~ Gautama Buddha 

James giggled, his finger in my back pocket, following me out of the kitchen.

“Stop!” I laughed. “That tickles!”

“Do you want me to take it out?”

I turned to him as he held up the refrigerator magnet he’d slipped in my pant’s pocket without me knowing it. I’d been away for most of the day and had been cleaning up the kitchen with him following behind me. I’d nearly tripped over him a few times, patted him on the head as he hugged my legs, and kissed him a few times when he told me he loved me.

I emptied the refrigerator and cabinets, wiping down shelves and throwing out what was no longer edible. I did an amazing job!

The day before I stood in the kitchen of the Quissett Harbor House after five hours of cleaning and reorganizing, by myself. I’d walked in and was quickly overwhelmed. Where to start?  But I put my head down and began, erasing months of grime from everything that wasn’t nailed down, moving on to things that were once I was done.

Thankfully, the painter shared his music and repeatedly asked if I could hear it. We sang to ourselves when it was finally loud enough, passing time each in our own world.

“I’m amazing!” I yelled out as I looked at my work.

“Yes, you are,” said Bill. “And you have to tell yourself that because nobody else does!” We both laughed in agreement.

Yesterday pictures were taken of the next kitchen makeover I did to send to the client.

Then the picture-taker asked, “Do you want to keep working or do you want to go pal around?”

I thought about it and decided to go home. Perhaps it was the unseen magnetic pull, the remembering of the little ones waiting for me that won out?

I’d been cleaning and organizing my kitchen for 27 years. Nobody ever took pictures or said I was amazing. The thought of either had never crossed my mind.

Living is what I do.

Well is how I do it.

Every day is when, and I’ll continue ’til the day I die.

Yesterday it crossed my mind for the first time in forever that no matter what we do with our time, we’re amazing. And if nobody else says so, it’s not because they aren’t thinking it.

Yesterday, before dinner, James, Kenny and I ended up at the playground so that they could ride their bikes and hit some baseballs in the field. Kenny can really send it far, but James struggles holding the bat up long enough for a good swing.

“Watch, Mommy,” called Kenny as he readied for another hit. He pitched himself the ball and slammed it high and far.

“Wow, Kenny! That was amazing!” (Yes, I really used that word. I guess it was the word of the day?)

“And I’m really good at riding my bike!” peeped James.

“Yes, you are, James!” He beamed at the praise.

When we acknowledge those closest to us we do a remarkable service. But sometimes we save that praise for others. Sometimes people are too close for us to see who they are and what they need. Sometimes we stop caring or don’t know how to show that we care about what we mean to each other, or what we could mean to each other.

But we really are, you know.

Amazing, you know.

It feels really good to tell someone.

That you’re amazing. You. And me. All of us.

May that thought stick to you like a magnet – in your back pocket.

Go have fun. And tell someone they’re amazing. They just might love hearing that!

P.S. Just for fun, want to know what was on the magnet that James put in my pocket?

“Charity Never Faileth” ~ Charity, the pure love of Christ. Of course. I could have just said that!

Watching Soulmates

“The way to love anything is to realize that it might be lost.” ~G.K. Chesterton

I almost jumped out of the car to join them on the tennis courts. But something told me to stop and watch them play together. They’d found a tennis ball and were throwing it from one side of the court and over the net to the other. One would do a little screech and throw it and  other would do the same and catch it.

I was almost in tears as I watched them. They were mates. Soul mates came to mind.

As I sat with my book on my lap, I reviewed the day. We’d taken a walk though the woods which ended at a playground. They slid down heavily sanded slides, giving each other permission to pull and  push each other at the bottom. Once in a while their excitement got the better of them and one would come crying to me because sand was in his eyes.

But forgiveness came quickly. It had to. They needed each other.

Then we spent a couple of hours at the beach down the street. I visited with a neighbor and watched James and Kenny play, argue, and follow each other onto the sand and into the water to wash it off and start all over again.

Finally, at 7pm., I loaded their bikes into the car and we headed for the playground, skipping dinner because playing was more important. I brought my book and parked facing the tennis courts.

They are so lucky to have each other. That’s what brought the tears. Their friendship is so rocky at times. I often get frustrated with the arguing and the tears. But they love each other. They don’t see what I see. That’s the beauty of children. They understand that in order to play and to overcome loneliness, they need to learn to dance around difficulties. Sometimes things don’t work out and they need some time apart. But eventually they are seeking each other out again.

I went back to reading and when I looked up they were gone. I visually searched the soccer fields, tennis courts and play equipment. They were nowhere. So I beeped the horn. Nothing. I beeped again. Still nothing. I sat and watched. Three more beeps brought them scurrying out of the woods, out of breath, James following Kenny, all smiles, ready to go home. I thought I’d get an argument to stay longer, but they climbed in and decided it was time for dinner; their bellies were growling.

As I drove home I thought about how complicated we can make things, and how lonely we become when we forget how to be childlike – having fun sharing life together, forgiving the “sand in the eyes”, and taking care of each other in the “deep and dark woods”.

All of a sudden it seemed laughable that their arguing was bothering me more than them! They were fine and would have it no other way. Their friendship was more important than their arguments. They were just taking little stands and expressing their needs and wants in the only ways they knew how. They’ll learn to communicate better, hopefully, but what I’m sure of now, and what I appreciate today is that their love and gratitude for each other is already mature.

Something to think about today. Have a good one!

Good Morning, Sunshine!

“Those who bring sunshine into the lives of others cannot keep it from themselves.” ~James M. Barrie

“The strangest thing just happened, ” he said as I was transplanting the Morning Glories. “I was spraying the grass with the hose and a hummingbird came and drank from it for about a minute.”

What a precious gift. Simple occurences, unexpected and beautiful, are refreshing and almost magical.

This morning, like most mornings, I stopped at the gas station. It just so happened that my oldest son pulled up at the same time. He didn’t see me yet. It made me smile to see him. I carried that joy with me as I approached the door and a man held it open for me, letting me pass through, smiling and greeting me with a “Hello.”

“Good morning, Brodes!” I had to say it twice before he heard me. He grinned from ear to ear and said, “I always see you here in the morning.”

“I know,” I admitted.

We both waited at the check-out as a new young man was being trained, my son standing two people behind me.

“Did I do it right?” I asked as I swiped my card and waited for the transaction to be approved.

“You did, Sunshine. Have a good day!” said the young man’s trainer who stood off to the side of his trainee.

Simple occurence.

Unexpected.

Beautiful.

Refreshing.

Almost magical.

And one more….transformative.

I climbed into my car and headed home, walked in the front door, and smiled.

“Good morning, Sunshine!” I said to Kenny. “Rise and shine.”

My mom used to say that every morning, now that I think of it.

It is the most onderful phrase in the world to me, and needs to be said more often.

Are You a Soldier or a Warrior?

He asked his friend, “What is the difference between a soldier and a warrior?” The man who came from a long line of Samurai warriors replied,

“Soldiers wait for the battle to come to them and then fight for their life.

Warriors take the battle to the enemy and fight for a cause.”

What are you fighting for?

What stand are you making?

Are you a soldier or a warrior?

Do you know what you are willing to die for?

Do you know what you are willing to live (fully and courageously) for?

We are all soldiers in a way. Aren’t we? We wake up, do our day’s work, fielding questions, requests, and solving problems. We fight in and with our circumstances, sometimes with heavy albeit grateful hearts.

Happy Memorial Day. Enjoy the parades and cookouts with friends and family.

Remember those who fought for our freedom – the soldiers who serve around the world.

Honor them by living your life as a warrior. They gave you another day to live and to make a difference.

Find out what moves you to be the change that your world needs.

And go do it.