The Atlanta Airport at 5am

A day or two after posting this article about meditation, it occurred to me I left out the most important part. You don’t just empty your head of thoughts, no matter how hard that part or how pretty your imaginary bowl. As the voice says, “Inner emptiness is not the goal but the preparation.” The goal is to be filled with Godly truth.

After you’ve gotten all relaxed and quiet and rid yourself of most of your distracting thoughts (do I really need to wash the dog, can I make that yummy roast beef in my InstantPot?) then you need to fill yourself up. 

May your mind be as "un-busy" as the Atlanta airport at 5am.

Before the meditation even starts you choose what Bible passage you want to focus on. There are categories like “Who is Jesus?” or “Praying.” From the category you narrow your choices to something like “A prayer to God the Father, Matthew 6:9-13” or “God answers, Luke 11:5-10.”

Here the real blessing begins. You listen to the voice read the scripture a bit at a time. There’s silence in between the phrases and repetition. I’ve noticed parts of very familiar passages because I never slow down enough to truly listen to each word. In the practice of meditation, I do. 

After all that quiet and stillness and Words of Truth, the voice invites you to “take a moment and come back.” At this point I’m ready to get moving or try to get back to sleep. But, I’m definitely feeling more relaxed and focused on the Lord. 

If you haven’t tried meditation before, I recommend Jesus Centered Meditation. If you have, I’d love to hear what you think.

Is Your Mind Busy?

             Would you judge me if I told you that I meditate? Why am I asking? Of course, you would. And, if you told me the same thing, I would try to wait for a full explanation before telling you to be careful; before assuming you’re opening yourself up to all kinds of wickedness and voodoo silliness.

            That’s why you might be surprised to hear me say I try to meditate regularly. I think it’s excellent for helping me focus my attention on the here and now. It keeps me from getting all tied up in knots when things don’t go my way, and who am I kidding? When do things really go my way? But I haven’t always been so open-minded.

            About two years ago, I participated in something called a PCOS 10 Week Program with Kym Campbell. This isn’t an article about PCOS, but just so you know, I have a horrible thing called Polycystic Ovarian Syndrome which, in the words of a nutritionist, has been the cause of all my health issues my whole life. Debilitating headaches? Infertility? Inability to lose weight? Yep, all a result of the nasty, icky thing called PCOS.

            Kym Campbell assured me she could help with all this. One of the ways she could help was by teaching me to manage my emotions. And, in order to manage emotions, Kym highly suggested meditating. I've heard time and again how important and beneficial meditating is. It calms your nerves, soothes your senses, lowers your stress levels. Perfect. I need all that. 

            But when I came to this part of the PCOS program, a healthy skepticism reared up in me along with a Christian fear. We're not supposed to meditate, are we? That's mumbo jumbo, chanting and becoming one with the earth, right? I don't want to get into that stuff. But I wondered if there was a way, as a Believer in the saving power of Jesus, to use meditation to my advantage; to lower my stress levels and deepen my relationship with the Lord at the same time.

            The Bible talks about meditating. Joshua 1:8 says, “Keep this Book of the Law always on your lips; meditate on it day and night, so that you may be careful to do everything written in it. Then you will be prosperous and successful.”

           

            Psalm 1:1-2 says, “Blessed is the one who does not walk in step with the wicked or stand in the way that sinners take or sit in the company of mockers, but whose delight is in the law of the Lord, and who meditates on his law day and night.”

            The difference is what you meditate on. When meditation is mentioned in the Bible, it's with a focus on the Word of God, on thinking about the right things. I knew there were numerous meditation apps I could get on my phone, so I did a search to find if there were any “Christian” ones. 

            A quick Google Play search turned up over 25 apps all devoted to Christian meditation. I clicked through a couple and installed two on my phone, the very popular Abide which claims to reach 4 million people helping them through depression and anxiety and the one I started using (which was free) called Jesus Centered Meditation.

            I can't even type the words Jesus Centered Meditation without hearing the disembodied voice of the meditation guide. She has some sort of accent and a slight speech impediment. There's one part where I swear she's going to say, "And now it's time for 'Silly Songs with Larry', the part of the show where Larry comes out and sings a Silly Song". But she never does.

            Over the months I’ve tried to more than just listen to the voice and participate in the exercises. I’ve tried to practice. Just like in my teenage years when I did the basic positions of ballet over and over again, until my muscles knew automatically what was coming next, meditation must be practiced. Just like praying for a whole hour with Moms in Prayer isn’t something that comes easily or naturally at first, meditation must be practiced.

            It’s hard to still my body, much less my mind. It’s hard to bring focus to your breath or the words of scripture and keep your focus there. It’s hard not to get frustrated when your thoughts drift to the kids or the grocery list or how long it’s been since you changed the sheets.

            But, like those ballet positions that are so ingrained I still walk like a duck, meditation gets easier. You get better at it.

            One thing I've gotten much better at is clearing my mind. The speech impediment, soothing voice encourages me to just "notice" what thoughts I've brought with me. "Watch each thought for a moment," she says. "Is your mind busy?" To begin with when she asked this very simple question, my answer was an equally simple, “Uh, yeah.” My mind seemed to always be busy; busy, busy, busy.  

            After those questions, the voice instructs me to put my thoughts one after another in an imaginary bowl in front of me. In my head, the bowl is one of those flat-ish clear glass bowls, one that might hold potpourri or water and floating candles. That was probably a busy thought one day, imagining what my bowl would actually look like.

            Taming my thoughts has been the hardest part of meditation. I tried to imagine myself taking each of my busy thoughts and letting them slip from my fingers into my beautiful bowl. But sometimes my thoughts were sticky. They clung to my fingers, demanding my attention. I tried to scrape them off onto the lip of the bowl, but they were persistent little suckers.

            Then, the voice says, "You can cover the bowl, if you need to." 

            What a great idea! In my mind, I covered the bowl. First, I gently laid a beautiful piece of tapestry over my bowl. I soon learned that wouldn’t do the job. A flimsy tapestry could hardly contain those busy thoughts. They would crawl over the edge and make their escape. So, I ended up using the tapestry to help dislodge my thoughts from my fingers, wiping them on the cloth then laying it over the bowl again. Realizing the pretty option wasn't working, I found something that did. 

            In my mind, I used a piece of Glad Press'nSeal Plastic Food Wrap. There we go! Now, I could shove my thoughts in that bowl, seal them up, and if another one floated by, I could pull the wrap off part of the bowl, stick the new thought in, and reseal. Voila!

            It took so much effort, and at first trying to rid myself of my busy thoughts just made me tired. But it does get easier. Now, when I meditate, I often don't see any thoughts floating by. I’ve gotten to the point where I feel calm and quiet in my body and my mind when I start my meditation app. But if those pesky thoughts start flying around my head, I can always grab a piece of imaginary Press'nSeal and I'm back in business.

           

            While my PCOS is not under control and I don’t know if my blood pressure is lower, I do know that I enjoy and look forward to meditating. I’ve started using the app to help me fall asleep or back asleep if I’ve woken up at 2am as often happens. It’s better than watching Gilmore Girls or scrolling through Pinterest. 

            Just like journaling, eating mostly meat and plants and walking my dog are all pieces of a puzzle that may one day help me feel healthy and vibrant, meditation is helpful, too.

            In silence and in meditation on the eternal truths, I hear the voice of God which excites our hearts to greater love.

C. S. Lewis

Hey Friends,

I've been away a long time. I've missed you and AmyLocks. It's been a long, weird year and life continues to throw interesting things my way. I'm praying and learning and I'm sure I'll tell you all about it at some point. Until then...

An Angel Works at DMV

“Is all the information on your driver’s license correct?” she asked. I knew this was coming, so I was ready.  I leaned over the divider separating us and whispered, “No. I don’t weigh 115 anymore.” 

Going to the Department of Motor Vehicles is almost never a pleasant experience. We don’t expect it to be. We moan and commiserate about having to go there, how long it will take, how unpleasant the people who work there are going to be. But, regardless of where we live and who we are, everyone at one point or another ends up at the DMV.

The lady who asked if I needed to change anything on my license laughed when I made my secret confession. She looked up, meeting my eyes, sharing a moment of humanity and sympathy. She didn’t pass judgment when I upped my number, knowing I could have let it pass, leaving my weight the same as it had been when I was a 16-year-old who spent all her time doing ballet and twirling batons. 

Recently, I had another surprisingly pleasant experience at the DMV. Not entirely pleasant, but pleasant enough. And, I can now admit the parts that weren’t pleasant were entirely my fault.

It’s like this…

Over 32 years of license renewals and moves from state to state my name has gotten changed. It happened so gradually, I hardly noticed. First it was Amy Mildred Bass, then, Amy Bass Britton. 

Where I’m from, it’s customary for a married woman to begin using her “maiden” name as her middle name.  Thus, all those deep, southern, well-thought-out middle names are abandoned only to be resurrected by our mothers when we do things that shock or embarrass them. 

After marrying Bobby Britton, or Robert Davis Britton as it says on his driver’s license, I became, for all intents and purposes, Amy Bass Britton.

I got used to this name very quickly. After four months of marriage I got a job as a junior high history teacher. I heard “Mrs. Britton, Mrs. Britton” all the livelong day. So, I easily settled into life as Amy Britton or officially Amy B. Britton whenever I had to sign my paychecks from Georgia Washington Junior High School.

At some point along the way my name became the very long Amy Mildred Bass Britton, then, it was shortened to Amy Mildred Britton. As a result of these changes, my driver’s license and passport didn’t match anymore. I realized this could be a problem, so I set out to change my name back, to stake my claim.

Amy Mildred Britton, as I am now officially known, was a stranger. I almost didn’t recognize her and never signed anything with her name. So, I looked online to see when my local Driver’s License Renewal Center was open, cleared my schedule and headed out. 

The morning was cold, windy and snowy. School was cancelled. I don’t think I’ve ever gone out when school’s been cancelled. If it’s not safe for the buses, it’s not safe for Amy Bass Britton. But I was determined, so off I went. I should have known nothing good could come from venturing out on a “snow day.” 

I arrived at the DMV ten minutes after it opened, supposedly. Once I found a place to park, slogged through melting snow puddles and climbed over one snow pile which was taking up a whole parking space, I made it into the crowded warmth of the dingy office. 

After a bit of confusion, I realized I had to get a ticket to get in line. Mine was #92.  I found a hard, orange chair, settled in and looked hopefully at the lighted display announcing which number was being served. #68. 

Never fear! I was prepared for a wait with Sudoku and Pinterest on my phone, a real live book in my purse, and a plethora of people around me to eavesdrop on. Thank goodness I’m nosy because after only a few minutes I heard a lady saying she had to leave to get a money order. 

First mistake. In my rush to make sure I had many forms of proper documentation to verify the correct name on my license, I didn’t think about how to pay for it. After mulling the situation over, watching the “now being served sign” click slowly closer to #92, I decided to take a chance and drive quickly to Rite Aid for a money order. 

Five minutes away, Rite Aid was deserted. Once I found an employee I was told their money order “machine” was out of order. My best and closest bet was a gas station five minutes further away. 

I found the gas station, quickly walked to the counter and asked for help with a money order. You can’t get a money order with a credit or debit card. Did you know that? I obviously didn’t, so I made my way outside to their ATM. Trying to decide how much money to withdraw I kept hearing my husband say, “Don’t use those random ATM machines. Their fees are crazy.” He would drive 20 miles out of the way to avoid paying those fees.

I said a silent apology, acknowledged it couldn’t be helped and made my withdrawal. 

Cash from the ATM in hand, I made my way back inside the gas station, secured a money order, wondered how close to #92 they were at the DMV, then rushed back to my van. I found my way back to the DMV, got a parking place that didn’t require scaling a mountain of snow, slogged through only one puddle and made it back inside. Now serving #81.

A mere 11 tired and disgruntled DMV patrons later, it was my turn. Douglas, a kind looking man, motioned me to his window where I laid my life before him. He gently returned several of the documents I presented then took a closer look at my passport. 

After all the time and energy given to this endeavor, Douglas informed me that the passport he was holding was expired. 

Apparently, my current passport was at home with my checkbook and my brain. Douglas continued his kindness by telling me if I could be back before 3:30 when the DMV closes, like an elementary school, he’d be happy to make whatever changes he could. Plus, as an added bonus, I wouldn’t have to get a new number and wait in line. I could come directly back to his window where Douglas and I would pick up where we left off.

Since the DMV is open for about 20 minutes every third Tuesday, I vowed to make this happen today. 

So, I headed quickly to the parking lot to relinquish my parking spot to another weary DMV-er and headed home for the correct passport and what I was sure was a return to my correct name.

The end was practically in sight.

I arrived home, anxiously flipped through the important papers and grasped my leathery, only used once so far, passport. I flipped it open and sighed in resignation. It doesn’t belong to Amy Bass Britton. It belongs to that person that’s not so familiar, Amy Mildred Britton.

I gathered the passport, stuck the money order inside, added my checkbook to the pile for good measure and wearily began my 23 minute trudge back to the DMV. Feeling defeated and stupid, I parked in the lot again, made my way past all those orange, plastic chairs and waited for Douglas to finish up his business with an excited new driver and her mom. I sat there trying to think of some way the Pennsylvania DMV would let me use the name on my old passport to validate the name I wanted on my new driver’s license. 

When my turn came, Douglas smiled and motioned me forward. I sighed and laid my disappointing offering on the altar of his counter. I began my lament, showing Douglas my new passport with the new, unfamiliar name Amy Mildred Britton. 

Assuring me that the Pennsylvania DMV would not accept my expired passport as evidence of the name I wished was on my driver’s license, Douglas boldly took my documents to his supervisor for approval. His supervisor was confrontational and abrupt.  He even tagged along when Douglas came back to look over his shoulder and assure me that none of my smiles or explanations would work with him. He didn’t say that, but I know it’s what he meant.

I thanked Douglas for trying and asked how I could go about eventually making the changes I wanted. He assured me it could only be done in court. Court? I thought. Oh, for heaven’s sake. It’s definitely not worth it.

Who knew it was so hard to change your name? I mean, there’s an episode of Friends where Phoebe changes her name to Princess something with only a form, a few minutes, and some creative thinking. I had a social security card and a passport with a hole punched in it!

Douglas had heard my “I’ve always used my maiden and last names” explanation and as he gathered the documents he needed to process my renewal he said, “That must just be a local thing.” “But, I’m not local,” I asserted. 

As I dejectedly put the superfluous papers away, Douglas began telling a story.

“You can sign your name any way you want,” he said. “Just like Derek Jeter.” Excuse me? I thought raising my left eyebrow at him.

Douglas excitedly told me about a stadium seat he had bought from old Yankee stadium. He admitted he had paid too much for it, but the seat was signed by Babe Ruth and Derek Jeter.  Douglas has to tell people it’s Jeter’s signature because it looks like a squiggly line.  A very expensive squiggly line.  I guess when Derek Jeter was drafted they didn’t care what his signature looked like so long as he could hit a line drive and make amazing catches at shortstop.

According to the Pennsylvania DMV that’s why you’re asked for ID as well as a signature, because you can sign your name however you want. I can be Mrs. Amy Bass Britton or whatever as long as it’s unreadable.

I didn’t accomplish what I set out to that day at the DMV, but a mere 3 hours and 15 minutes later I had renewed my expired license (didn’t I mention it was expired?) and also renewed my hope for a decent humanity. While I may be disorganized and less attentive to detail than I had realized, Douglas was a lovely delight at the DMV. 

Next time you have to renew your license, look for your Douglas at the DMV. Or, if you know Douglas, please tell him thanks.

Bits and Pieces, Part 3

          For the last two weeks, you've been wading through a letter of advice I wrote to my twin boys. They graduated from high school in June 2018 and it threw me for a loop. I mean, I knew it was coming, but when graduation day and then worse, moving day, arrived, I was shocked. Where had the time gone? Had I taught them the things I intended to? Had I spent enough time with them? Had I been obedient to raise these young men like God asked me to?

           While I hoped my husband, Bobby, and I had imparted some sense of wisdom and love to these guys, I was afraid. Afraid I might need 18 more years to truly do justice to the raising of a blessing, afraid I might have taken too many naps and not enough trips to the library with them, afraid I had missed telling them something truly important. 

           So, I started praying. Then, I started writing. Below is the last of the advice I felt compelled, at this point, to share with Allen and Davis and now, with you. If you missed the first two parts you can read them here and here.  

           Recycle – It’s the right thing to do and it doesn’t have to be complicated. Hopefully, it will make a big difference. Recycling is one of those things people notice, probably because they don’t do it. Take a bag to the grocery store. Drop your glass, plastic and newspapers off at the recycling center. It’s not that big a deal, it will inspire others to get on the ball and again, hopefully it will make a big difference.

            Live Simply – When you can uncomplicate your life, do so. There are lots of great books and TV shows out there about this. Though I may have lots of stuff, I try to keep my schedule simple. I also try to get rid of extra stuff regularly, or at least when we move. Don’t fuss at your family about this. Just lead by example.

            Travel – When you have a choice between buying things or taking a trip, opt for the trip. Don’t be afraid to try a new place for vacation or take your kids on a long car ride. Dad will be happy to provide some of his epic shortcuts for you. That is what amazing memories are made of. If you have the chance to live overseas at some point, do it. Your dad and I will visit, and it will change you for the better. Experiencing new and challenging things, especially as a family, is what makes you stronger. Remember, camping is always a fun, cheaper option. Just get out there.

If you have a kid that gets car sick, make sure you have plastic bags close at hand and put the kid in the front if possible. While I don’t think sticking your fingers out of a car window will take away the nausea (as your Grandmom told me), it may distract someone long enough to help them feel better.

Take Care of Your Health – Eat fruits and vegetables every day, every meal if possible. Take a walk. Go outside and sit in the sun, breathe the fresh air. Find a doctor you love and trust. I read once that you should find a doctor about your age then you can grow old together. 

Turn off the Screens – Luke Bryan sings a song called Most People are Good. In it he says, “I believe kids oughta stay kids as long as they can. Turn off the screen, go climb a tree, get dirt on their hands.” Good advice for kids, good advice for you too. Enjoy the simple, pay attention to the people around you, don’t be glued to your phone or the TV or any screen.

San Antonio Symphony in the Beeville High School Auditorium

Enjoy lots of different activities – When Dad and I were dating, he took me on all kinds of different outings – bike riding in Auburn, the ballet at the Shakespeare Festival in Montgomery, free concerts on campus. He read you should do lots of different things when you’re dating to see how your “special friend” acts in different situations. I passed his test and we had lots of fun. Dad still delights in finding fun and different things for us to do. Just last night in Beeville, TX, he took me to see the San Antonio symphony at Beeville High School. The music was wonderful, the tickets were cheap, and we enjoyed a night out. There’s so much neat stuff out there to do. Go do it!

            I love y’all more than I can put into words. While I think you know that, let me just say it here, I love you, more than I could ever adequately express, more than my own life. As a result of that love, I feel the need to keep on telling you stuff. Some of these bits and pieces may seem trite or silly, but I think they’re important. Humor me, read this and live at least some of it out.

Love,

Mom

            P.S. I reserve the right to add to this list at any time and without any warning. I am still your Mom.

Something fun to brighten your day...

I want you to have it all!

Bits and Pieces, Part 2

           Last week, I shared the beginning of a letter I wrote to my twin, 19 year old boys.  This is simply things I want to make sure they know. None of this is earth shattering, but hopefully it makes them think. It made me think as I wrote it, how I want to live, what I think is important and what I hope these two young men teach my grandkids one day.

           Here's Part 2 of 3. If you missed part 1, you can read it here.

           Clean Up – Clean up after yourself especially, but help others clean up too. You didn’t have many chores at home, but you know the general principles of washing dishes and clothes, dusting and vacuuming. Make “Tidying Up” a habit. It's not the “woman's job.” It's the job of all people who use a particular space. Change your sheets often and those crazy Mr. Clean “white sponges” will clean almost anything.

            Be the Leader- If you marry a Godly woman, and I hope and pray you do, she’s going to expect you to be the leader of your family. Step up to the plate. It will be hard and uncomfortable at times. You are both more than capable of leading with gentleness, strength and love.  You are fierce protectors. That quality will become more evident as you become a husband and a daddy. Don’t be afraid to do what you think is right.

That being said; listen to your wife. She will sometimes need to wisely appeal your decisions. Let her. If possible, do what she suggests. If it’s not possible, stand strong. God’s the head of you and your family. Ask Him, trust Him and do what He says. You and your family will feel the blessing of your obedience and leadership.

            Save Money – I think both of you are learning to be wise with money. I think some of that comes from Dave Ramsey. Dad and I have listened to him for years. Once when listening to Dave in the car, we heard a caller who was burdened with debt including an unwise, expensive car lease. Y’all had become “Dave” experts by this point. After hearing the caller’s story, you started yelling, “Sell the car!”

When you start making money, whether from a career or a part time job, start saving, start tithing and start giving. Don’t neglect the saving part and don’t get sucked into overspending like so many people in this world. You’ll regret it.

            Never stop learning – My goal as your homeschool teacher from third to ninth grade wasn’t simply to fill your heads. I wanted you to love learning. I realize there will be gaps in your education, things you’re curious about that you never learned. There are gaps in my education too. It’s what you do with those gaps that makes you a lifelong learner. Go to the library, keep a list of books or topics that are interesting and work your way through them. Some of the most fun and interesting people I know are curious and constant learners. If all you can manage is a chapter before bed, or several pages over lunch, don’t stop reading and learning. Ever. Just don’t stop.

            Bring flowers for no reason – Fresh flowers are a cheap and easy way to add beauty to your home. Your wife or girlfriend will appreciate it. It’s sweet and thoughtful and will earn you huge brownie points.

Flowers from Allen

            Pay attention – If flowers aren’t part of your wife or girlfriend’s love language, figure out what is. Maybe it’s an afternoon phone call just to say “Hey.” Maybe she’ll need a good, long hug when you get home. Maybe you need to write a letter to her once a year. Whatever it is, do it! Pay attention to what speaks to her heart. For that matter, just pay attention!

            Be kind – Be sweet to everyone, even your brother. Kindness goes a long way. Hold the door, let someone go ahead of you in the check-out line, be the first to introduce yourself. Take time to listen when someone’s upset. Ask if others need a hand. Buy lemonade from the kids at the lemonade stand down the street.

            Find the funny – There has always been a lot of laughter in our home. You guys are funny. Don’t be afraid to be silly. Keep looking for good, clean jokes and tell them often. The Bible says, “God, who sits in Heaven, laughs!” Psalm 2:4

            I was once at a baby shower where we prayed for the mom-to-be. One wise lady prayed for strength for the mom to get through her days. The woman also prayed when the new mom felt overwhelmed, she would just laugh, lay on the floor and laugh. I pray y’all will be able to do that and I pray your families will join in.

           To be continued next week! Last week I asked what's the best advice you've ever received. Now, I'd love to hear the best advice you've ever given someone else.

Bits and Pieces of Wisdom from Your Mama

With permission from my twin boys, I'm sharing this letter I recently wrote to them. Maybe you'll find something to live out or pass on in these "bits and pieces." I should certainly take my own advice! This is Part 1 of 3. 

Dear Allen and Davis,

            When you turned 18 years old, Dad and I asked some important men in your lives to write letters to you about growing up and what it means to be a man. Those letters are sweet and amazing and I hope you cherish them. But there are some things you need to hear from your Mama.  Here they are, in no particular order….

            Relationships – There's more to a relationship than just a pretty face, as they say. Y'all have both had the thrill of someone thinking you're pretty cool. I hope you have that again. But, if someone wants you to change just to please them or their parents, run. Don't look back. Don't confuse this with someone caring about you and wanting you to be stronger and smarter and better. Change just because you're not the way someone else wants you to be is stupid. There, I said it, stupid.

            Work – Find a job you love. It may seem weird to hear this from me since I've stayed home with you since you were born. But, if at all possible, do work you love. You may have to grunt out a year or two until you have money to make a good switch, experience that will look good on a resume, or freedom to make a move. Work that time out with grace. Just keep the end goal in mind, whatever you think that end might be. It will be wonderful if you can support a family on your income alone. Then, if you're blessed with a wife, she'll be able to choose whether she works or not. “Not” was my choice. My dream job was to take care of your daddy and you. I'm really, really blessed I was able to do it.

            Jesus – This guy comes first.  Do the hard work of finding a church that opens the Bible and teaches God's Word. More than that, let Jesus seep into every nook and cranny of who you are. Don't make decisions without asking Him. Don't let the day go by without talking with Him. Get a Bible app on your phone, set it up for a verse of the day, then actually read it. Let the Word inform and transform who you are and what you do. Don't be afraid to talk about God with people. Everyone needs Him and it will be your greatest privilege to lead someone to Jesus.

            While I think most of your Sunday mornings should be spent in church, there will be days you need to praise God while “walking through the vineyards.” Your dad and I learned this from a beautiful, Godly lady in Baden, Austria. We often drove through real-live vineyards in Baden. You may not have that luxury. Your “vineyards” may be a state park, a picnic spot or your backyard. Just find a place to BE. Take God there with you and praise Him.

            Don't Give Up – Suppose you don't get everything you want on the first try. Say things are hard in your job or a friendship or a marriage. Don't give up. Push through.

We drove to California from Alabama for this moment, 5 month old twin boys with their Nana, it was love at first sight on both sides

            Dream Big – Don’t settle for what’s right in front of you if you think there’s something better out there. God may tug at your heart or your sense of adventure or put an impossible thought in your head. Go for it! People thought it was crazy for Dad and me to go to Austria as missionaries. But that was our most wonderful adventure until God gave us you. It seemed mad to drive to California with five-month-old twins. But we introduced you to people who wouldn't have had the joy of meeting two such adorable, engaging boys otherwise. Do the hard, big, crazy thing!

            Know When to Give Up – Even though I just said, “don't give up,” sometimes you'll need to. You'll stumble into a situation where you thought you were supposed to go but, it won't be the place for you. Don't hang on out of stubbornness or fear or peer-pressure. Like tugging on your heart to do something wonderful, God may tug on your heart to show you a way out. It's not failure. It may just make good sense.

           To be continued next week.... Until then, what's the best advice you've ever received?

Life is NOT a Hallmark Card 

Waiting at gate A17 in San Antonio for my flight, I reached into my little, pink purse for a pen. I drew my hand out with a pen in my fingers and sugar/cinnamon grit under my fingernails. I had swept the grit off my table only moments ago, not realizing I had baptized my purse with a sweet sprinkling, leftovers from a feeble attempt to drown my sorrows with CinnaSweeties from the Cinnabon a few gates back.

I kept thinking I don’t want to do this. I don’t want to be here. My only consolation was the fact that I’d just checked my carry-on bag all the way to Harrisburg – for free. No more bumping it down the center aisle to the peril of passengers nearby, hefting it into the overhead bin or sweet talking someone else into doing it. Now I just had my super heavy “personal item” to contend with, the memory of those delicious CinnaSweeties and “wash your purse” added to my mental to-do list.

Soon my flight would start boarding and I would get up, gather my things and walk onto a plane propelling me over 1000 miles from my husband, Bobby. A series of weird and unusual circumstances lead to that disheartening reflection. Long story short, my husband’s job occasionally separates us. He’s asked to be at a job “yesterday,” I’m left to pack all the things we continue to accumulate and carry on the life we’ve been living. All without him.

Getting on the flight felt wrong and I felt profoundly sad, weighed down with the enormity of the task at hand. Instead, I wanted to be sitting on the porch of Bobby’s cottage, watching the clouds cross the big, blue sky. I wanted to prop my feet on the porch railing, looking for the calf we saw only moments after its birth. 

If you were to sit down beside me in that moment at gate A17, you wouldn’t see tears and tissues. But I could feel the tension of holding them in creeping up the back of my neck, seeping around my head to set up shop in my left temple and jaw. Apparently, I’m a very good actress. No one around seemed to notice I was about to burst into sobs or jump up and run out of the airport.

“God won’t give you more than you can handle.”

How often is this phrase uttered by well-meaning friends and clueless Hallmark cards? In my experience, it’s just not true.

Maybe you have a different kind of relationship with God, but in my dealings with the Almighty, He regularly introduces new scenes into my life that exceed my capabilities or coping mechanisms. Like the butler Carson showing an unwelcome guest into the library on the PBS TV show Downton Abbey, God often heralds new seasons and experiences that I can’t handle.

It happened when my dad got sick and passed away all in two weeks. Again, life seemed too difficult when my knees needed to be replaced, and I could no longer summon the desire to walk to the back of the grocery store for cheese. And I have felt its unwelcome presence each of the three times Bobby has moved for his job months ahead of me and our boys.

I can’t handle that stuff. I want to go to bed or eat cookie dough or get in my car and start driving aimlessly. God can fix all these woes and so much more. He can fix anything. He can handle anything that’s thrown at Him or at me.

But, often He doesn’t. He usually lets me struggle, at least for a while, like a Dad letting his child learn how to put on her own shirt. He has my best in mind and being rescued from trying to stick my head through the sleeve isn’t going to do it.

In the Bible in 2 Corinthians 12:10, Paul says we should delight in suffering and weakness. He says when we’re weak, that’s when we’re really strong. He should know. God gave Paul a hum-dinger of a story to tell. He was stoned and left adrift at sea. He was beaten and shipwrecked three times each. Paul couldn’t handle that stuff. No one could.

We’re told God goes with us. “He will never leave you nor forsake you.” (Deuteronomy 31:6) Paul knew that verse from the Old Testament and I assume he believed it. Otherwise, why in the world would he have set foot on a boat again after one shipwreck, let alone two?

I recently looked up the names of God completely expecting to find The God Who’s Got It Handled smushed between The Ancient of Days and The Lord is Peace. It may not surprise you that this very eloquent and relevant suggestion isn’t on any of the lists I referenced. Not a one, however true it may be.

God took care of Noah and his family amid a world overrun by wickedness. He had a plan of victory for Joshua in marching around the city of Jericho. And, of course, He orchestrated the holy rescue mission of Jesus coming to earth as a helpless baby, saving us from ourselves and our sin.

From a human perspective, all these situations seemed unlikely to work out. They all appeared to be bad ideas. Some might call you crazy if you were to suggest them today. But God used each for His victory, His glory and His people’s good.

Nowhere does the Bible say God won’t give us more than we can handle. Not being able to handle stuff is often what we humans are known for. It’s what we do and why we’re here. If we could handle everything that comes our way, why would we need God? In fact, John 16:33 tells us we will have trouble in this life. Jesus encourages us to take heart. When we trust Him to take care of us, we can have peace because Jesus has already overcome the whole world.

I feel certain God will keep giving me things I can’t handle. He made me and knows exactly how pressed and perplexed I can get. Yet, He continues to plop hard, unexpected things in my lap. He knows good and well I’ll soon be out of my depth, struggling to stay afloat, my nose barely breaking the surface of the situation while my arms and legs flail to stay in control.

The older I get the quicker I realize I can’t take it, so I call out to God. Only then does God get to show up and show off. He gets to make a display of Himself that I can point to when someone asks, “How do you handle all that?”

So… be like Paul, jump back in your rocking boat. We often can’t manage whatever is coming around the bend. But the God Who’s Got It Handled? He certainly can.

I Am So Ill I Can Hardly Speak - Jane Austen, Persuasion

“I bought NyQuil, Kleenex and orange juice,” I sniffled into the phone.  “Sounds like a party,” my helpful husband, Bobby, quipped.  I’ve been sick for a week.  Other than quick excursions to the dollar store for the above supplies and a treacherous, snowy drive to the grocery store, I confined myself to the house for almost a week. Those short outings felt like huge accomplishments, especially since all I wanted was to tuck myself back in bed or prop myself up on the couch for the duration.

While my cold wasn’t the worst I’ve had, it hit me hard in the lethargy department. I didn’t really want to do anything.  But I still had enough wits about me to try and fend off the pesky germs. 

Here’s what happens at my home when someone’s sick:

As quick as we notice a sniffle or sore throat, we drink the dreaded “feel good drink.” It’s the opposite of delicious but has become our go-to cure all. You heat one cup of water, add a tablespoon of honey, a tablespoon of apple cider vinegar, two drops of Thieves essential oil and two drops of lemon essential oil. The first taste will be a doozy but keep sipping. If done early enough, this almost ensures no sore throat not only for this cold, but for most of the cold/flu season. Hit yourself with another cupful a couple of times a day, morning and night is a good idea. It’s magic.

My friend, Heather, swears by Zicam. So much so that she hands the swabs out to employees and friends saying, “The first one’s free.” I heard such Zicam praises from Heather that Santa delivered boxes of Zicam nasal swabs to my family’s Christmas stockings. Just after drinking the “feel good drink” this week I opened my own Christmas Zicam. It didn’t help as much as Heather promised it would.  Later, she told me I have to keep using it, like every three hours, for a day or so to get the full cold-shortening benefits. Oh well, next time.

I’m an essential oil diffuser newbie. So, I probably didn’t keep the diffuser going as long as I should have. But I did spend some time sitting by a steady mist of Thieves and lemon essential oils, breathing deeply the scent of what I hoped would be good health and healing.

My son, Allen, presented me with a box of chamomile tea after a trip to Germany. I don’t know that German chamomile is any more potent than chamomile tea bought in the U.S. But seeing the “Kamille, bio” box with little white chamomile flowers on it and trying to make out the German directions and descriptions makes me smile. That’s got to count for something. Plus, a steaming mug of chamomile is very soothing. That’s why the Germans put chamomile tea in the bottles of their fussy babies.

Nicole is my friend who I consult for all things medical.  Her sons were sick about the same time I was.  When I asked what she was doing for them she replied, “Nyquil, zinc and vitamin C.”  It was right after I spoke with her that I made my trip to the dollar store.  While I didn’t get the zinc, I did get OJ and Nyquil, day and night.  Though my husband thinks I’m having cold delusions, I promise the Nyquil daytime formula makes me sleepy.  I kept taking it as long as it lasted and enjoyed those daytime and nighttime ZZZs hoping it was promoting some super immunity.

Then, I brought out the big guns. Probably more soothing to me than even German chamomile tea is Jane Austen.  The boys in my life don’t understand or appreciate how comforting a Jane Austen movie can be.  But, man, are they missing out.  

I started my week with Mansfield Park.  I used to have two versions of this classic, but alas, I broke one of the DVDs, the one where Fannie Price is quite smart and headstrong.  I followed Mansfield Park with Persuasion, sepia and misty and romantic.  Then, I watched the Gwyneth Paltrow version of Emma and the Emma Thompson version of Sense and Sensibility.  I watched Keira Knightley as Elizabeth Bennet in Pride and Prejudice and got part way into the long, PBS version of Emma before realizing I felt better.  

While I’ll still finish Emma and will probably move on to the long, Colin Firth Pride and Prejudice in days ahead, I don’t feel the need to lie on the couch for long periods of time anymore. My movie watching is now interrupted by errands and meetings and cleaning out the garage instead of nose blowing and refilling the diffuser and taking another dose of cold medicine.  

When that starts to happen, I know I’m better.  It may not be scientific, but it works for me.  

14 Things I Don’t Understand

1. How you can electronically unsubscribe from a newsletter with the click of a mouse but it takes days or weeks to actually be taken off the email list?
2. Why black bean soup is inherently "Mexican." Why not Italian or American?
3. What Mr. Clean Magic Erasers are made of.  What planet did that material come from?  Clean sharpie off painted walls? Check.  Clean soap scum from glass shower doors? Yup.  Would it clean the freckles off my arm?  Maybe.
4. I consider myself a fairly good cook. So, why do I often smoke up my entire house when I make dinner?
5. Why it's called a station wagon.  
6.  Why I'm thinking about station wagons.
7.  Why it’s socially acceptable to wake yourself up with caffeine in the form of coffee, but not with Coke?
8. "Titanic The Musical"
9. Why I can never get my eyelashes exactly the same when I put on mascara.
10. Why people insist on driving slow in the fast lane. No one is insulting your manhood if they pass you. Just get over!
11. Why people lived through one winter north of the Mason Dixon Line then thought it was a good idea to live through another.
12. Why people lived through one summer south of the Mason Dixon Line then thought it was a good idea to live through another.
13. Why my very Southern mom has so many linguistic similarities to people in Maine. Neither pronounces Rs for example.
14. Why I often find all the 6s in my Sudoku puzzles before any other number.

Cold Kayaks in Bloomsburg, PA

Just wondering....

Part 4

            This is the last installment of what I shared at my church in early December. 

At a women’s ministry meeting in November, talk centered around our Christmas brunch which was coming up fast.  Mainly, we didn’t have a speaker.  Several women had been asked but we didn’t have any takers yet.  Sitting across the room, my friend Gina looked at me and said, “You should share at the brunch.  Who knows where you’ll be in the spring.” She’s right, I have no idea where I’ll be come spring or where I’ll be living when the next women’s brunch at Shiloh Bible Church rolls around. 

When Gina made her suggestion, I did what I usually do when I’m uncomfortable, I laughed and changed the subject.  I’m really good at it.  But, I was thinking I wanted to share at the brunch and I felt God had something for me to say.  Instead of trusting Him, saying “Yes. I’d like to do that,” and moving on, I kind of freaked out.  I talked to my husband about it, emailed a friend who I knew would be honest, and felt like crying for most of the night.  Then, as I prayed, God asked me, “What’s the word I gave you this year?”

My "enough" necklace

I had always thought people who had a “word of the year” were so cool and together.  I tried to drum up a word of the year several times before. Though I could come up with something fairly interesting, I would promptly forget and I never wrote the words down. So, I was delighted when God actually gave me a word of the year in 2017 and again in 2018. This time I remembered them, they stuck. 

My word for 2018 was Enough.  That word took on different meanings over the months.  To start with, God told me He was enough for me – all I need.  His provision is enough, He sees and answers my prayers before I speak them.  God then moved on to tell me that I am enough.  My story is interesting enough.  He created me like I am for a reason.  He didn’t make me less than. He would provide all I need to have and all I need to be through Himself.  I don’t have to strive and wonder if I am enough.  It’s already accomplished.  It’s done. 

Then as my boys’ high school graduation neared and I didn’t know what life would look like on the other side, God’s word took on a new tone.  As I whined to Him in prayer about my sorrow and the uncertainty in my life, God said sternly, “Enough!”  Enough with not trusting, enough with second-guessing.  Enough!  So, in the midst of my freak out about doing this talk, God said again, “Enough. Just do this thing, Amy. It’s ok. I’ll tell you what to say. I’ll take care of it. Just step out and share.”

2 Corinthians 9:15 was the verse for the event where I first shared this story, “Thanks be to God for His inexpressible gift.”  Our gifts are a reflection of the inexpressible gift God has given Believers in Christ.  When we share our gifts, whatever they may be; a shoebox you pack or a meal you prepare or a talk you give at a ladies’ brunch, you’re sharing what God has given you. 

It says in 2 Corinthians 9:10 as we pour out, God will pour into us and supply us with what we need so we can continue to give.  I got a laugh out of chapter 9 verse 7 when I was thinking about this talk, “Each one must give as he has decided in his heart, not reluctantly or under compulsion, for God loves a cheerful giver.”  While I’m cheerful as I share now, I certainly wasn’t as I was stepping out to agree to speak.

High School Graduation

All of chapter 9 in 2 Corinthians is about gift giving. Paul covers how the Corinthians were supposed to offer their gifts. They were good at giving. Paul bragged on them for being so generous. Paul essentially wrote this letter to say, “Hey, I told the church in Macedonia you would help them and, what’s more, you would want to help them.  So, I’m writing to warn you that an opportunity to give is coming. AND, when you do this amazing thing, guess what?  The Macedonians will be so blessed they’ll long for you and praise God because you met their needs.” It will be like a child getting a shoebox from Operation Christmas Child and praising God for His blessing and provision. You packed the box and sent the box.  But, God gets the glory.

I love this commercial from Apple.  It’s less than 3 minutes. Take time to watch it.  Here are the lyrics to the song in the video:

Wake up and smell the coffee
Is your cup half full or empty?
When we talk, you say it softly
But I love it when you’re awfully quiet, quiet

You see a piece of paper
Could be a little greater
Show me what you could make her
You’ll never know until you try it
You don’t have to keep it quiet

And I know it makes you nervous
But I promise you, it’s worth it
To show ’em everything you kept inside
Don’t hide, don’t hide
Too shy to say, but I hope you stay
Don’t hide away
Come out and play…♬

“Come out and play” by Billie Eilish

In this video, the girl wrote the story. She thought it up, typed it out and hid it away. God gave her that gift, but she wasn’t willing to share it. When her pages were blown into the town, people were blessed by what they read. When we share our gifts, we’re blessing others too. 

                I could have told you a lot more about each of these parts of my life, and maybe that’s my real gift to you, that I didn’t.  But, I hope you’re encouraged to be bold and brave to share whatever gifts God has blessed you with.  Share joyfully and whole-heartedly. I can’t wait to be blessed and encouraged by you!

                Thank you!