Ugliness Before the Rain

If you’ve ever been around chickens for any length of time chances are you’ve seen them molt. It is not a pretty thing. Once beautiful birds lose clumps of feathers all over their body; exposing scrawny patches of pink skin. In particular their necks become barren leaving bulging heads on a fleshy stalk. Like I said, it’s not pretty.

During this process, if your chickens are hens, they will stop laying eggs. By this time, if you are a newbie backyard chicken farmer, you are quite distressed and scouring the internet to find what disease has befallen your birds. Not, of course, that I know this from personal experience. It’s just what I’ve heard some in-experienced people do.

Be at peace. This is no disease, just the natural process of life. Once it has run its course brand new glorious feathers will grow in, leaving your chickens beautiful again. They will also return to their egg production.

Every once in a while things have to turn quite ugly before they become beautiful.

How would we appreciate health without sickness? Joy if there were no sorrow. Could we recognize a miracle if we never saw a tragedy?

Some of the most beautiful blue sky days come after the harshest weather. Almost like we’re getting a reward for making it through, a gold star sticker for enduring through the trial.

Are we on this earth to gain promotions at work, decorate our homes with Pinterest crafts, and collect possessions? It’s what we do. We work, provide for our families, and enjoy hobbies. Though as a purpose for life, none of those things make much sense. I doubt the point of my being placed on this planet is to buy shoes and a write a book, as much as I enjoy those things.

When I was in college I always thought life would start after graduation, that was my someday. Shows how little I knew in college. Really, all of life is an education. We are here to learn from the journey, to grow from each new experience; whether good or bad. It is how we live through the day-to-day working, shopping and hobbies that matters

Sometimes it’s hard to look at an event in our life as part of the big picture. When someone tears us down, or a friend turns their back, how does that fit into the greater perspective of life and that someday after graduation? Is it worth holding a grudge? Do you really need to shout at that terrible driver? Whatever the problem is, does it warrant so much of your energy and emotion?

Another note about chickens, they like to roll in the dirt, a lot. They will roll in so much dirt you will actually start considering bathing your chickens, or at the very least hosing them off. Then the rain comes, and all that ugliness is washed away. You’re left with shining white chickens again, more beautiful than they were before.

For the people of Boston 2013 has been an emotional year. The bombing of the Boston Marathon on the city’s Patriot Day was a tragedy that rocked the people of the city to its very core. As a nation we mourned with Boston during those dark days.

It was beautiful to watch Boston celebrate when their Red Sox won the World Series at home in Fenway Park. The first time they’ve won the World Series at home in ninety-five years. Fans poured into to the streets, even to marathon finish line, shouting “Boston Strong”.

The rain had washed away the ugliness, and the sun was finally shining.

We all have trials to endure and learn from, sometimes individually, others as a community or a family. When we become battered and dirty there will be something beautiful for us on the other side. It’s just a matter of having the right perspective to see it.

Our Fears Will Pass

Hopefully, everyone has now settled into the new school year. You've established your morning routines and, though they may not like it, children have adjusted to early bedtimes.

There's nothing quite like that first day, though. Kids in brightly colored outfits with shoes so new and clean it's hard to look directly at them. They're usually excited with just a slight side of nerves. Mostly harmless concerns plague them. Will I be the shortest one in class? Where is my bus room? How do I pay for ice cream? Ten minutes after school starts their jitters will be forgotten as they are immersed in learning the ropes of a new grade. 

Parents are a different story. Well, in my experience it has been mothers, but I won't stereotype. The first day of school many of us are a nervous wreck until those precious children stumble back off that big yellow bus in the afternoon.

It's not that I think it's going to be a horrible day. My kids go to a great school and have terrific teachers. There is just something about your children being completely out of your control that makes you feel a little helpless.

During the summer my kids stay with my sister-in-law. I knew where they were, what kind of environment and influence was around them, and I could call and check on them any time I wanted.

The school day is a giant blind spot. Just try to get a fifth grade boy to tell you what went on in his day. My girls are more forthcoming, but they have me cringing with tales of second grade drama.

I started thinking about all the difficulties yet to come; letting kids drive alone, sending them on mission trips, dropping them off at college. I'll stop there before I pass out.

If letting our children out of our sight can be difficult for us, what must it be like for heavenly father to send all of hs children to Earth?

How worrisome it must be to send children to Earth where they will be so tempted by horrible influences. He loves us so much, but we are born having forgotten him. We must re-learn the gospel and choose him.

Knowing how difficult it will be for His children, the Lord made a back-up plan, giving us a savior for our redemption. How agonizing it must be for the father to watch so many not choose freedom, but to fall.

Heavenly father has written down everything he wants us to know in the scriptures, and would love for us to call on Him any time, day or night. Like most children we never call home enough.

We often lament on how quickly our children grow up. One moment they're learning to tie their shoes, and the next they're learning to parallel park. What we forget is how swiftly the bad moments pass as well.

When our twin girls were born they needed to stay in the NICU for three weeks. The hospital was an hour from our home, and I visited every day. For the first week family members drove me as I recovered from surgery, after that I drove or waited for my husband in the evenings. At the time it felt like their stay lasted an eternity. Now looking back, that difficulty was just a brief moment that seems like a lifetime ago.

Several weeks have passed since that first day of school. All of those worries are now a distant memory. As my kids have become more confident in their classes, I too have become secure in their routines and safety.

At least as much as a mother ever does.

I will keep trying to get my kids to fill me in on the empty abyss I call the school day. In the meantime I think I'll check in with my heavenly father a little more often. As a parent I'm sure he'd like a little reassurance on how I'm doing through the day, and as a parent I could use the reassurance through the day.

Hope and Hatred Among Human Suffering

In the last five months the people of this nation have been tested and tormented. Terrorists have brought fear and destruction. Evil posing as a troubled youth brought heart break to a small town school. Now a natural disaster has rocked the heartland.

This is not a particularly strong time for our country. The economy is poor, jobs are scarce and morale is low.

What is something that shines in these dark times? The human spirit. The decency and kindness that stops people in their tracks in the face of a tragedy, if for nothing else, but to hurt with those that are hurting.

That spirit is what drives volunteers and emergency workers to ease suffering and work through the night to do all they can. It’s what encourages children to send drawings to the wounded and adults to send checks. Because there is an outpouring of helping hands, I have hope for the human condition.

As long as we care more about easing the suffering of others than our own petty inconveniences, there is hope for this world as a whole.

If you are a thousand miles from a disaster and have no funds or supplies to donate, why not keep victims in your prayers? If you are a non-believer then you could keep them in your thoughts, if you prefer. What harm is there in thinking kind, sympathetic thoughts?

Is that not offering a kindness?

There has been some criticism, following the tornadoes in Oklahoma, scorning the offering of prayers as a way to support the victims. Some of the discussion has turned quite nasty.

Instead of real help we cling to our antiquated religion, praying for the effects of God’s work to be un-done.

No. I cling to the principle that most people are good and decent. That the human spirit will reach out to one another in times of need and lift each other up. I cling to the fact that most people will feel and empathize and send out hopeful thoughts for those in Oklahoma, Boston and Newtown. 

That they will wish for comfort and relief for the victims and the safety of all involved. I do it in prayer to my God. You do it anyway you see fit.

What I cannot wrap my head around is the wasted efforts, and breathe of tearing down people that are trying to offer hope. Why take the time to spill such hatred when there is so much suffering happening right now? Of all the things you could be doing with your time, why belittle those who are offering kindness and encouraging others to do the same?

The world suffers enough. You don’t need to add any extra hatred or pain to it. I’m sure there are many that could use donations of your time and money. Maybe, you could start with a kind thought.

I’ll offer one on your behalf, with those I send out for Oklahoma tonight.

I don’t apologize for my belief in God and you shouldn’t apologize for your beliefs, but this is not the conversation we should be having right now. Find a positive way to help, any way to help.

Do you want to be the person bringing hope or hatred in this time of suffering?

Loving Life's Roller Coasters

I love roller coasters, I really do. My husband and I have been sneaking away for grown-up amusement park weekends for years now. Old school wooden coasters, sleek steal rails, hanging suspension style we’ve done it all. We love the free-falling thrill of dropping, spinning and spiraling in a well controlled manner.

I have still not learned to appreciate these same feelings in the rest of my life.

Life is not spent at an even keel. There are good moments that take us on highs, low moments can drop us suddenly and flat stretches will sometimes drag on longer then we like.

The exciting moments always seem much too brief, and the spiraling drops sometimes feel endless. 

None of it feels very controlled or safe.

What if there were no drops? No loops, cork-screws or hills. Just a nice smooth ride. Then life wouldn’t be a roller coaster would it? It would be a train ride.

There’s nothing wrong with a train. I think they’re relaxing and the ride can be very scenic. But if the track stays flat forever won’t we tire of the ride? We wouldn’t learn very much from a smooth un-interrupted ride.

Would the blandness of the mundane overshadow our fears of the unknown?

Writing a novel has been its own kind of ride. There was the lengthy process of writing the book and editing it. Much like standing in line on a very busy Saturday in July at Disney World.

Then comes sending your manuscript out to the very first readers to see if you have a story. That’s chugging slowly up the first big hill of the coaster with your heart in your throat. You know what it feels like, you look out over the entire amusement park and think ‘what have I done’ but it’s way too late by that point, you’re already strapped in.

Once you hit the first loop that’s the equivalent of getting your first positive feedback. Next comes querying for agents. Will the terrifying corkscrew of death ever end? Yes, to send you hurtling towards the ground at the speed of sound.

You get the idea, writing a book has a lot of ups and downs.

So, why do I love roller coasters?

Honestly, the first one of the day I don’t. I’m always terrified to get on that first roller coaster every trip. Going up that hill is painful, but I grit my teeth and say a little prayer. Somewhere around the halfway point of the first drop, which coincidentally is when my scream runs of out of air, the fear turns into a thrill.

That’s when I can let go of the bar, put my hands in the air and fly in total freedom.

I just don’t think a flat track would have the same effect.

Without risks, trials and pain, all the lows of life, the highs would not be as sweet. If we had no sorrow to compare our happiness to, how would we indeed know we were happy? Mondays would not be the same if there weren’t a few loop de loops.

No one really enjoys the ups and downs and downs of life. Somewhere in the beginning we were terrified and now we’ve become so jaded we ride life’s amusement park like an elevator instead of a thrill ride.

Stop waiting for the destination and enjoy the ride, because pretty soon it will be time to get off.

Grit your teeth, say a prayer and let go, knowing that with every low another high will pop up.

You can’t fly on a flat track.

Are you going to love the roller coaster?  

Taking Control Through Choice

In light of recent events many of us have lost our Christmas spirit. Some feel like skipping the celebrations all together.

We need to embrace that spirit like never before.

When my oldest child boarded the school bus for the first day of kindergarten I smiled and waved like a perky pageant queen. As soon as that sunshine yellow child thief lumbered off I burst into tears.

It had nothing to do with my baby growing up, but everything to do with losing control.

For the first time I would not know what or how my child was doing all day. I was leaving him to his own devices and the care of strangers.

Even as a working mother I’d been able to call the babysitter, who was also family, at any time for updates. I could find out what they were doing, hear his voice or even stop by if I was so inclined. 

The beginning of public school changed all that.

Losing control meant gaining fear and anxiety as a parent.

As the world becomes increasingly chaotic and self-destructive we can feel overwhelmed by despair or even hopelessness. Every newscast seems more tragic then the last.

I can’t control what is happening in our nation and across the world. I can’t turn around the economy. I can’t stop senseless violence. I can’t put an end to hate.

I can control my little piece of this world.

This holiday season I can celebrate peace, charity and love. I can make my home a place of comfort and joy and teach my children how to spread goodness in their little part of the world.

If many of us choose to act in this way all of our little pieces could add up to something really wonderful.

Darkness and tragedy may be thrust upon us, but it is our choice in how we react.

What support will we give? What strength will we gain?

I adapted to having children in school as all parents do. The teachers and staff that were “strangers” are now treasured friends. In a school of 1200 students the phenomenal ladies in the office call me and my children by our first names.

How did I go from terror to trust? I chose to embrace the new environment. Really to jump in with both feet. Cupcakes for a party? Sign me up. Parent teacher conferences? Never missed one. Kindergarten Career Day? Who knew you could hold five-year-olds spell bound with a model of a clogged artery?

By being a positive presence I felt more in control of my children’s environment.

This Christmas I’m choosing to make my part of the world as bright as I can, for the sake of my family and my fellow man. Maybe no one else will notice, but I think just making that choice will give me a little more control over the fear and horror that has been reigning unchecked lately.

I will choose where I stand and I will not be moved.

What are you going to choose to do with your part of the world?

Weeding the Fear Garden

Fear has gone from a tool of survival to an indestructible dandelion.

Think of your life as a nice orderly garden full of your hopes and dreams. Fear are the weeds that keep us too preoccupied to notice that the pumpkin patch is infested with squash bugs.

Normal people are afraid of things that can actually do them harm: heights, poisonous spiders, or flying. Granted you'd be pretty hard pressed to actually fall off the Empire State Building during a tour, but it's a legitimate fear all the same.

None of those things bother me. Bring on the spiraling looping steel roller coasters of death, I'm game all day long, and I'll even hang on to my breakfast.

I'll crush any spider, swat any bee, although admittedly I will do a shrieking little getaway dance if I have an unplanned encounter with a snake.

At a training class, in Chicago, I met a lady so terrified of flying she begged her husband to come drive her home. He declined to make the trip up from Louisiana in the middle of February.

 I view flying as a rare opportunity to enjoy a good book, uninterrupted by children or technology.

My fear doesn't involve creepy crawlies or hurtling to my death. In my defense there are sharp objects and masked men.

I'm afraid of the dentist.

Go ahead and laugh, you know you want to.

Usually I'll say that and people chime in "Oh, I don't like it either!"

Disliking something is not the same thing. I'm talking about the kind of fear that puts knots in your stomach and a sweat on your brow.

When I was pregnant with my oldest I went for my first dental cleaning in years. I specifically went, because I knew they couldn't do anything more then the basics while I was pregnant.

I was so gripped by terror, that on the way there I cut little half moons into my palms by digging my nails into the flesh of my clinched fists. The dentist had to keep reminding me to relax my hands through out the appointment.

Now, you probably think I'm a few flowers short of a bouquet, but how do you feel about public speaking? Did your palms just get sweaty thinking about it?

Of course my fear isn't logical, I know that. Nothing bad is going to happen to me, especially during a cleaning. Those little lectures with my inner self don't help at all.

When you to talk in front of a group they're not going to throw sharp objects at your head. If that's the case, you might want to re-think your speaking engagements.

As we gain a little perspective in our years we start to understand real fear. Losing our loved ones. Our children being hurt. The evil that exists in the world.

Once we see the big picture those little weeds don't seem so terrible.

Right before my last dental appointment one of my little girls had fallen off the monkey bars at school. Fearing her arm was fractured, the doctor sent her for x-rays.

Even though it was one of my rougher appointments, and I was plenty sore later, I didn't have time to be afraid. I just wanted them to hurry up so I could get to my baby.

Losing someone to young often makes us realize how much of life we're missing out on. If your bucket list includes trips to Fiji, Calcutta, and Moscow, but you won't set foot on an airstrip maybe it's time to pull that weed. Don't get around to your gardening too late!

There are enough truly bad things in the world to distract us from our lives. Let's start working on these fears before the squash bugs take over.

Who's ready to do a little weeding?