Living by Purpose!

Is it just me, or do some of these newer cliches bug you as much as they do me? A big one for me awhile back was the use of the word “impacted” when applied to something besides teeth. Even Daniel Webster succumbed to this one!

The latest one that bugs is “at the end of the day.” (Feels like fingernails scraping an old backboard!) Come on now? At the end of what day? Or is that which day? (I know. I will die in the land of grammar geekness.)

That said, what I want to tell you is about a new one – one I have embraced. It all started with my grandson, Boe, age 5. Recently, when his mom caught him doing something he shouldn’t, his quick little mind shot back, “It was by accident.”

“No, I don't think so," his mom responded. He looked at his toes and then asked her, “Then, was it by purpose?”

Ever since Elaine told me about this, Gene and I have been asking ourselves: Did we do this “by purpose” or “accident?"

I know the syntax is messed up on this one, too, but it's giving me something to strive for. Obviously, not in the childish way he used to get himself out of trouble. But, by flipping it over and living by purpose – in a good way!

In my case, this is going to require a whole lot less puttering! (If you know of a 12 step program, let me know!) “By purpose,” I want to hold my tongue in the heat of a disagreement, instead of snapping back. “By purpose,” I want to focus much less on my daily “To Do” list, and more on what God suggests. “By purpose,” I want this to be a better year! Some call it living intentionally, but I like “by purpose" better.

This year, “at the end of the day” - Ouch! - my desire is to “impact” -Double Ouch! - my world in a better way by living each day by purpose.

Listen for God's voice in everything you do, everywhere you go; He's the one who will keep you on track. Don't assume that you know it all.” Proverbs 3:5,6 The Message translation of the Bible

Tickler: I haven't written in this blog Annie set up for me in, well, quite awhile. I'll explain at a later date. I just wanted get my feet wet again. Thanks for listening.

And, hey! May you have a year filled with purpose, too.

Boe in a box.

Christmas greetings from a snowman?

A dear friend of mine, named Charlotte, died this past summer. Ever since junior high (when we picked up the rhyming names of Sheryl and Pearl), we have laughed, cried, prayed, and even danced our way through the highs, lows, and silliness of life.    

Throughout the years, we often talked about our children, and prayed together for them. Now that she's gone, I feel a special closeness to her two grown children, Scott and Delacy. Amazingly, rather than simply wallowing in her own great loss, Delacy quickly found purpose in her mother's death. She picked up her mother's Bible. More importantly, she picked up her mother's faith in God! Scott, her brother, has not.

Knowing Sheryl's greatest desire was that her two children would turn their lives over to God, I have been writing to Scott since his mom died, telling him about her God and mine.

Except this Christmas, . . . and I'm ashamed to even say this .. . . I went with something more generic. Unoffensive. Political correct. I picked up a card with a snowman on the cover. A snowman! It's CHRIST-mas, and I'm a CHRIST-ian, and I was sending my best friend's grieving son a card with a SNOW-man on the cover! 

Then, I realized that Mr. Snow-man had glittery stuff all over him, . . . and cards with glittery sparkley stuff do not always make it through the screening process in facilities like the one Scott is currently staying in. 

So, I  tried to find another non-offensive (translated: non-religious) card to send Scott. However, by then they were too picked over. (Obviously, lots of people go generic with CHRIST-mas cards, because nothing I saw passed this test.)

Finally, I came to my senses and sent off a bright red one (sans glitter) that read, The Word did not become a philosophy, theory, or a concept to be discussed, debated, or pondered, but the Word became a person to be followed, enjoyed, and loved." 

The short handwritten note I added confessed to my charade. I also told him "I have gone with the cry of my heart and sent this card instead." (His mother would have shaken her head at the snowman! I think she would smile at my second choice.)

I will continue to pray that Scott will believe the words on the front of that card.  And, in the meantime, I will work on my own courage to be real. No more snowmen for me on CHRIST-mas cards! No way!

For I am not ashamed of this Good News about Christ. It is the power of God at work, saving everyone who believes . . . Romans 1:16  

Skiing with God

This is a story about trusting God. It is also a story about snow skiing. I learned about this from my grandson, Will, who is fours year old and lives in Ronan, Montana. His mother shared it with me over the phone.

Will, as Annie told me, was having trouble going to sleep at night. There had just been too much upheaval in his life over the past several months. First of all, he and his brother James, were adjusting to being moved out and then back into their newly remodeled bedroom. More unsettling was the fact that he'd been moved into a preschool class of older students where the teacher was less nurturing and affectionate. And, if that's not enough for a four year old to cope with, his mommy just started an online graduate program, and now she's studying all the time.  

So, how has Will learned to deal with all those fears?  (Please read the following paragraphs to find out.)

As Annie was tucking him into bed one night, she pointed to the picture of Jesus on his bedroom wall. "You can trust Him with all your fears."  

Will's face lit up. "Mommy! It's like when I was skiing with Daddy. I knew I could trust him."

"Exactly!" Annie smiled as she visualized what he was saying.

Later, in sharing this with me, she explained how the whole family had gone skiing one day. Both Mike (Will's dad) and Will had skis on. But, here's the fun part: In order to prevent Dare Devil Will from crash-and-burning his way down that mountain slope, Mike had Will standing between his own legs. Then, he held onto both of Will's hands as the two of them careened down the hill together.

Can you think of a better analogy for trusting God?

When we are "skiing" down an unfamiliar ski slope, circumstance, or trial - when we are overwhelmed or terrified - hasn't God got a grip on us?

We're as safe as a four-year old speeding down his first ski slope, as long as we are hanging on to Him. 

Fear of man is a dangerous trap, but to trust in God means safety. Proverbs 29:25 

One final note to William: Thank you for reminding me what trusting God looks like! We are always safe with Him!

Just give me Jesus!

I have a reputation for doing some pretty dumb stuff, like gluing two of my fingers together recently and then having to soak them in polish remover for 20 minutes to regain my freedom. (I'd tell you that during those 20 minutes I imagined a trip to the ER for surgery which would remove fingerprints, make my teaching credentials null and void, and leave me with no viable source of income, but then you would definitely worry about me. So, I won't.)

In another one of my "stupid animal tricks," I had to take my car into Car Toys to remove a cd that was stuck inside the player. Turns out it was stuck alright, but not inside the player! I had the durn thing stuck in the slot above the cd player - you know, - between the player and the dashboard. (I reminded the guy removing it that I was paying him $25.00 so he didn't need to go back inside and tell everyone he worked with.)

Before returning to Car Toys again this past week with another annoying cd playing issue, I asked my friend, Donald, to take a look at it. (Donald, like Gene, can fix almost anything, but right now Gene is in Arizona and I am in Oregon.)

Donald got a flashlight, some kind of tweezer-like thing from his toolbox, and then squeezed his 6' lanky body into the front seat of my little Escort. And then guess what? Would you believe this was another "operator error?" (I know. You're as shocked as I was . . . or not.)

Turns out I am only allowed to insert one cd at a time, and I had two crammed in there. Who makes these rules up anyway? 

And Donald, being the gentleman he is, did all this without once giving me the look I paid $25.00 for the last time I had problems!

I'd like to be able to tell you my children are shocked when these things happens, but I can't. Instead, they're more likely to question What will Mom do next?

It gets worse. Not only do I habitually do this kind of thing, I brag about it, as well! The way I look at it is, If this makes me laugh, why wouldn't it make other people? The guy who took my 25 bucks sure had a hard time keeping his face straight!

So, after telling my friend, Linda Z, about this, I added, "I've told God He can take everything He wants from me, but please, could He leave my sense of humor."

Then, she, being the wiser of two woman countered. "And your faith. You mean your sense of humor and your faith. Right?"

Whoa! She got that right. I can go just about anywhere and do anything, with just those two ingredients. I know. I still need to steer clear of all forms of technology, but otherwise, just give me Jesus and a good laugh anytime!

Laughter is good medicine. Proverbs 17:22

God shops at Walmart!

In December of 2011, I got married and moved to Arizona. You already know that, and it's a good thing. But, let me tell you - when you're in your 60s and accustomed to being single, it is not always an easy thing. 

On one of my pouting Penny days, I drove to Walmart for some shopping therapy. I wandered the aisles, but didn't buy much. Then, as I started towards the door, I noticed a frail blond-haired man, probably in his 30s. He was riding in a scooter that was smaller than adult-sized.

From my vantage point, he seemed to have already purchased several bags full of merchandise. Now, he was making a second run at another pile with his remaining cash. As he and the cashier sorted through several items of clothing, I watched him pull bills and change from a small coin purse. Several customers waited in line behind him.

That's when I heard from God. With an almost tangible shove, He said, "Get over there."

"Could you use some help?" I asked, stepping closer to a few feet closer to the counter.

The young man's smile confirmed to me that he could. Now that I was standing closer, I could see how complicated this whole transaction had become. Not only was the young man wrestling with the proverbial too-much-month/too-little-money, but he could hardly even reach the counter top from his scooter!

I joined in on the sorting and counting, and offered him my name. A smile never left his face as he pointed to a small plastic license plate on the front of his ride and mumbled, "Scott."

When the cashier finally totaled this second group of items, Scott was still a bit shy on cash. That's when I whipped out my card and swiped it. (Besides being confined to a chair while shopping, Scott clearly didn't have this luxury, either.) Not wanting to embarrass him, I accepted his remaining cash as partial payment. But, honestly, the total wasn't much. (I've wasted more on a single cosmetics run!)

Then, I threw what I could into his scooter basket and the rest into my own. "Okay, Scott. You lead the way."

Under my confident-sounding voice, I was actually wondering where we would go from there. Five miles down the road? Him with motorized transportation and me with a shopping cart? I could already hear my husband grumbling about my naivete. 

Luckily, a van was parked right by the door - the assisted living sign assured me all was well. As the driver jumped out and lowered the lift, he asked me. "You work for Walmart?"

"No," I heard myself say. "I work for God."

He grinned sheepishly. "Well, then I guess I do, too."

Now, why am I telling you this? Because I, in this one instance, helped someone out? Hardly!

I'm writing because Scott turned my self-absorbed pity party into a valuable life lesson. In the days since then, I have often seen his smile and asked, Who is more handicapped? The guy in the scooter or the gal with the chip on her shoulder? (See below: I have already answered this, so you don't have to.)

So, the next time you catch me whining about Mesa, Goldendale, or a broken fingernail, I'm giving you permission to call me on it. Four words oughta do it: "Remember Scott at Walmart?"

This is how I see God. He hangs out at Walmart.

The Easter Bunny Lives!

On a lighter note:

In Mesa, I love the hoots, coos, and tweets of the quail and pigeons arguing every morning as the sun comes up. But, the adorable long-eared cotton tails the size of a cube of butter are my absolute favorites! So, when my cat murdered (!) and then dragged one inside the house recently, I became quite unsettled! (I made Gene deal with the bunny's carcass.)

Today, when a live one hopped inside, I flipped out! Grabbing the cat beside me, I ran to shut him inside a bedroom. Then, I screamed for Gene to come help and jumped up on the couch (because the little bitty bunny was going to hurt me. Right?)

Shaking his head at the crazy lady (aka his wife), Gene diligently tracked down the creature hiding behind books on a shelf. Then, he carried the squeaky little thing outside by the ears. 

"My hero!" I said, throwing my arms around him. "You just rescued me from the Easter bunny." 

The moral of this story is, . . . oh yeah, there isn't one. I just wanted you to know that life here in the desert can be difficult, and there are wild animals! 

The greatest of these is Love!

It's Valentine's Day, and I've got a story for you!

But, first, let me tell you about my friend, Dorothy. Several winters ago when Gene was riding his bike around the neighborhood here in Mesa, he stopped to talk to an older gentleman working in his yard. I'm going to make the story of how I met his wife short by just telling you that this couple's summer home is in the same invisibly-small-and-remote town in Washington that Gene's is - Goldendale, Washingon. As a result, Dorothy has become not only my summer, but also my wintertime friend.

Anyway, because of Dorothy's intense shoulder pain from a car accident a year ago, I vacuumed for her yesterday. Later, when she discovered she'd lost one of her pearl earrings, the two of us sat down and fingered through the entire contents of the vacuum bag. (We did this not only once, but two times!) Knowing that Dorothy is struggling with not only physical pain, but also her husband's Alzheimer's, I was so sure God was going to help us find it. Two times we came close to finding it. First finding a florist's pin with a white head, and then an inexpensive necklace bead. The pearl, unfortunately, we did not find.

But, that was yesterday. Today is Valentine's Day - a day when many of us express our love for one another. So, here's the fun part. Dorothy just called me and said she tried looking again for the earring after I left her place last night,  but she still could not find it. This morning, giving up on ever seeing it again, she got up and just got dressed. After putting on a red blouse, her eyes glanced down - and there it was. The earring and the backing were just lying there on my bedspread. "It was as though someone had just laid them there," is the way she put it. 

I think Dorothy's right. I also think God had a hand in it. This was his way of reminding her that, no matter how difficult her life is right now, He still loves her. He completed one of her favorite sets of earrings today - on Valentine's Day - to remind her.

His Valentine to me is the sound of rain drops tapping out a love letter on the aluminum rooftop of our patio room. A rare occurrence here in Mesa, they remind me of the Pacific Northwest, friends, and family. My prayer is that you will see His love for you today, as well. He loves us, and today is His gift to all.

And, hey! If he shows up for you in a surprising way today, will you share it on this blog?

Happy Valentine's Day!

Love never fails. . . And now these three remain: Faith, hope and love. But the greatest of there is love. I Corinthians 13:8, 13 

Find Your Purpose

Have you ever had an itch that was oh-so-bad, but you just couldn't scratch it? Well, I have had one for more than a year now. Okay, I'm not talking about anything serious. It's just something I want to do. Unfortunately, a couple of other things got in the way last year. One of them was getting married (which was huge and wonderful.) Another thing was puttering (which is not so huge, but far more compelling and disruptive.)

However, before leaving Portland in December, that "itch" came to mind again. I was having dinner with a friend when we both agreed we were not doing things that were important to us. Sharon and I also agreed - and this is the hard part - to make ourselves accountable to one another in the new year in order to fix this. (This was obviously going to cut into my puttering time!)

Several weeks later, as Gene and I were grabbing our bags at the Phoenix airport, a billboard reminded me of that promise. The bold print said, "Find your purpose." The fine print directed you to a local college, but I took the challenge personally. The honeymoon was over. It was time for me to write.

So, here goes. My excuses no longer matter. It doesn't matter if no one reads this. It doesn't matter if I don't have anything life-changing to relate. What matters is that I write. (Another friend, Linda, taught me what doesn't matter.)

So, in the weeks and months ahead, that's what I'll be doing - writing about silly things, thoughtful things, and just about any things. The other stuff doesn't matter. I just need to be who I am, write what I write, and stop wasting so much time puttering.  

Good grief, aside from learning how to be a wife again (which will be a miracle, not a project!), what else am I going to do in the desert these next four months?

I don't like New Year's resolution. This sounds easier to me. Now, what about you? A blog is for dialogue. It's your turn now. Have you got an itch that needs scratching this year? Something you've wanted to do? A purpose? If you're comfortable sharing it on this blog, I'd love that. If not, maybe you'll share it with a friend. 

At my wedding reception on December 1st, my three-year old grandson, Jack (with a bit of prompting) raised his glass of sparkling cider and said, "This is Grammy's toast." Now I have one for you: May you find purpose in this new year, and share it with someone else, because doing what is important to you does matter.

See, I am doing a new thing! Now it springs up; do you not perceive it? I am making a way in the desert and streams in the wasteland. Isaiah 43:19

My chaotic quiet times: The ultimate oxymoron!

I'm a teacher, so I'm used to counting backwards from five and using other tricks to get students to listen in the classroom. I often ask them to listen to me with their eyes and ears - to look at me when I'm speaking. In doing this, I'm hoping they will focus 100%, and listen to what I'm saying. (This  is a pipe dream in the classroom, but it's what I'm reaching for.)


On a more personal note, there is a place where this hasn't been working for me lately. These are the times when I sit with my Bible, a pen, and a cup of coffee ready to listen to God, my Teacher. Or at least they should be. 


Instead, I confess, my "quiet" times have become everything but quiet. I have not been a listening student! 


For some reason, I'm still standing in front of a classroom doing all the talking. You know, "Oh Lord, please be with Janet, Julie, Jeff and Keven. Help me with this. Help me with that. Blah, blah, blah, blah, blah." I know these are needs and people I pray for, but good grief! Maybe God would like to get a word in edgewise? 


Sometimes, I even jump up to call someone who needs encouragement - right there in the middle of my quiet (?) time. Doesn't this mean I'm excusing myself from God, and running off to do something I consider more important?


This is not an image I am comfortable with. I want God to receive my full attention. I want my eyes, ears, mind, and heart to be set on him, especially when I'm having my devotional time! 


I want more of God and less of my frenetic personality. Less chatter inside my head when I am kneeling. Less jumping up to make a phone call or refill a coffee cup. I want to become a better listener. 


When I sit down in the mornings and God counts backwards from the number five, I want to be looking straight into his face and hearing what He has to say. 


I want these words to apply to me: Be still, and know that I am God. Psalm 46:10


Does this ever happen to you? How do you handle it?


My blogs will always be simple and a little silly, because that's the way God made me. If you wrestle with shutting off distractions during your devotional time, will you share what works for you?


Thanks for listening. I hope I will, too.

I need a refill!

Last month, I had a mountain top experience at my daughter, Annie's, home outside of Spokane. While I was there, a prophet of God ministered to me several times.

This particular "prophet" is a little guy, not quite five foot tall, but he's filled with the living spirit of the Lord. His name is James Normandeau. He's nine years old, and very open to what God has to say.

One evening as I was tucking him in, he got this troubled look on his face and said, "I need a refill."

"You need a what?" I asked him.

He put his head down and offered this explanation. "Today at school I got angry with a bunch of kids in my class because they weren't doing their work. But, then God said to me, 'Wait a minute. All people are equal.'"

James looked up then and smiled at me knowingly. "I just needed a refill to remember that."

Ain't it the truth? James needed a refill! I need a refill! You need a refill! Hey! All of God's children need a refill. 

I hope you get yours today - and every day. A young man reminded me recently. It works!

And he said: "I tell you the truth, unless you change and become like little children, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven." Matthew 18:3

The only one who's out to get me is God!

Oh, my goodness! What am I doing? Writing a b-l-o-g? And w-h-y?

One reason: God said so. And I don't say that flippantly. Instead, I will tell you how this happened. I have been keeping a journal for more than 20 years now. (I'd be more exact, but that would tell you how old I am and I'm not ready to go that far with this. Not yet, anyway.)

Well, this year's journal started out differently. I was getting this bug in my ear to write a b-l-o-g. And that's funny, because I don't even know what a b-l-o-g is! 

On January 20th, I found myself writing wildly and creating the messiest journal page I've ever written. I think God stole the pen outa my hand and covered that page with ideas. No, suggestions. Nah, these were orders about how to do this. He even gave me a title for this thing! (Who knew I even needed one? Not me!)

Still, even that wasn't enough to prod me.  I did, however, make a note to have my daughter, Annie, help me set up a b-l-o-g during my three week stay with her family in February.  But, let's be realistic. Annie's got three kids, two dogs, six cats, 40 chickens, and one husband so this was not likely to get done - ever. However, on the last day, I said offhandedly, "We don't have time to set up a blog. Do we?"


"We do," she said. Then did it immediately, thereby removing another barrier I'd created. When Annie pulled the order form up online, it asked us for a title. I had that. So, I told her what God had told me, "How I see God". When the blog site said that one was already taken, it suggested another one, "This is how I see God." (Can you believe my computer even makes suggestions?) I was a little disappointed, but went with that instead. It was, at least, close to the one God gave me.

Or so I thought. Later, I pulled out my journal to check the title. Now, get this! The title God had given me was not "How I see God." It was "This is how I see God." 

So, that is why I'm writing. God said, "Do it." He even gave me a title, and then corrected me when I forgot it! 


Annie gave me this today to push me in: Yes, be bold and strong! Banish fear and doubt! For remember, God's with you wherever you go. (Even on the internet!) Joshua 1:9 Living Bible


I'll say no more today, but, God willing, I'll be back.  Til then, may God fill you to overflowing with His love and laughter.


? ? ? There are lots of little boxes on this page that I have no idea what to do with: Labels, post options, edit HYML, etc. I'll deal with that tomorrow. Help me, Jesus!


Okay, I'm going to hit "Publish Post" whatever that means.