“How are you today?”

The woman working at the checkout line greeted me as I walked up to the credit card swiper. Hmmm…must be part of a new policy. It seemed like everyone behind the registers greeted each customer with the same words.

I lifted my head to say something in response, but I stopped before I began. The words that came from the worker were friendly, but she was not in the mood today.

Her head down, already scanning the UPC codes on my purchases, I knew she didn’t want any conversation.

She had on her Game Face.

This encounter reminded me a performance review I had a long time ago. I was a young Mom with two small children under the age of three. I had a good babysitter, but she wouldn’t take my kids if they were sick. Completely understandable.

My boss looked at me across the desk. “You need to reduce your absences.”

I agreed. But I didn’t have a back-up sitter. My husband had the full-time job (with insurance), so I felt I should be the one to stay home. I told her I’d do my best, but it was a tough situation.

She looked at me for a few seconds. Then she said, “You have to reduce your absences.”

Sigh.

She had on her Game Face.

Have you ever met someone with a Game Face? It’s like they have only one dimension. The are carrying out one role, with no room for any other attitude or peek at personality.

I know that my items at the store will be rung up. That will happen whether it’s a pleasant experience or not. I’ll get the raise my boss wants to give me, whether she understands or cares about my challenges at home.

But still, I’d rather not talk to Game Faces.

I have had experiences checking out with cashiers who are honestly happy. It’s fun. I know we only have a few minutes together. Why not make it a happy moment? A person who likes what they’re doing can light up my day. Something as simple as chatting about the weather creates a bond.

It’s a good challenge for me. I don’t want to be satisfied with being a one-dimensional person.

When I was working as a nurse, there were some pretty hectic days. Whether it was the Operating Room, floor at the hospital or the doctor’s office, they all had demands on my time. Everyone needed something, and they were legitimate needs.

I really hope I didn’t put on a Game Face.

No one is perfect. I’m not. The cashier and my boss aren’t either. We’re all going to have tough days and not be able to be our best selves. But my goal is to grab joy, that wonderful spiritual gift, and share it.

I want to be engaged, listening and caring. That creates a bond of love with everyone I see today.

So much better than a Game Face, don’t you think?

Have you been to my Facebook page?

Linking today with: Wanda’s Friday Five Fellowship

I want to be in the Light

As You are in the Light

I wanna shine like the stars in the heavens

Oh, Lord be my Light and be my salvation

Cause all I want is to be in the Light

~ In the Light by DC Talk

Hi There!

I’ve taken on some outside work, which I am happy about, but unfortunately it’s going to take up more of my time. So, there might be days when I won’t be able to respond to comments. I’m not sure how often that would happen, but I wanted you to know ahead of time.

I will always read everything you write, I love to hear what you have to say! I’ll always keep visiting you and commenting too.

Thank you so much for being such faithful blog-friends. You make my day!

Blessings,

Ceil

We were sitting around Joan’s house. Every week, the five of us would meet to pray, offer opinions on faith-based books, complete study guides, or just talk about our Spiritual lives. Because of the topics involved, we got to know each other very well.

Before discussing the next chapter in our study, our hostess had some news. She had a book that listed names, and the meaning of those names. Wouldn’t it be fun to look at ours?

There the book was, lying there all cute and innocent on the coffee table.

Joan reached over to pick up the book. Joan is the female version of  “John,” which means “Yahweh is gracious.” We all gave her affirming nods.

Each woman was handed the book. Dorothy meant “Gift of God”. Anne meant “favor or grace.” And Elizabeth? “God’s promise.”

We were all warming to the exercise.

My turn. My eyes rested on the name “Cecilia.” I started reading without scanning it first.

I proudly read: “Cecilia means ‘blind.’”

Do you remember watching Wile E. Coyote run headlong off a cliff, and not fall? Arms flailing and feet churning, there is that suspended moment of hysterical activity, trying to avoid the inevitable. That’s what was happening in the minds of my friends. They were wracking their brains for something positive to say.

It would be have been a lot easier if my name meant ‘gorgeous and insightful’. (What name means that? I’d give my right arm for that one right now.)

“I’m not blind!” I told myself. I know who God is. I attend church faithfully. I volunteer and I’m an active member of my church.

I groused about it for years. Blind indeed! Blind my eye. (Ha! Pun intended!)

Why in the world did God stand there while I was being so grievously mislabeled at my Baptism? This is obviously a quality control issue.

After a few years of mentally holding my breath and stamping my feet, I finally accepted the grace to rethink the situation. “What if being in the dark is not a bad thing?”

The time had come to consider my “blindness” as an asset. Looking through the Scriptures for some perspective, and I found this passage:

I will lead the blind on their journey; by paths unknown I will guide them. I will turn darkness into light before them, and make crooked ways straight… I will not forsake them.   Isaiah 42:16

Thank you Isaiah! My blindness? It’s really an invitation to God. It asks him to come and stay with me.

My position of being in the dark is shared by all of us. We are blessed followers of God, and waiting patiently for his light. Because of the darkness, we are not going to stray. We don’t want to be the blind leading the blind after all.

He will come and gently take us by the hand and lead us to his path and purpose.

I love my name now. You can have “Grace” and “Promise.”

I am blind. And I am blessed.

Come visit me on the Facebook page for Surrounded by the Spirit!

I’ve been going to physical therapy for a few weeks now. My therapist is starting to settle into an easy relationship with me. We talk about her education, her family.

Her Dad had just had his third shoulder surgery and was heading for rehab himself. She slowly shook her head, describing how her Dad went to work two days after surgery. I guess he’s a bit of a Type A.

Today she was frustrated.

One of her patients was coming in faithfully for his appointments. He never rescheduled. (Unlike me.) But it was becoming obvious that he wasn’t doing his ‘at home’ exercises.

“He came in and I told him to do his resistance exercise. He’s supposed to be doing it at home two times a day! He asked me to show him how to do it…again.” The complaint ended with an exaggerated eye roll.

She must have been thinking about it a while, because she came back to the subject later. “You know, I had one person tell me ‘You haven’t cured me yet.’ I was so surprised! I told him I’m not going to ‘cure you.’ You have to do more than just come to your appointment three times a week. You have to do your homework!”

I think I saw the Lord sitting in the chair right next to me. This time, he was the one slowly shaking his head. He’s got the same problem.

His children go to church. They come together as a family to praise and sing and pray. It’s beautiful and it’s necessary. How God loves that.

But then, it’s time for everyone to leave. It’s time to go out into the neighborhoods, job sites, grocery stores and homes. I am one of those worshippers.

I get distracted. I get busy doing all kinds of things.

What about the lessons I learned in church? Well, I start to forget. Problems with the family, overbearing bosses…it all adds up to…I don’t know. What’s the opposite of praise, song and prayer?

Pretty soon, just losing my favorite pen is cause for frustration. What’s going on here?

All that prayer and praise in church with my brothers and sisters is just the start. Like the exercises I learn in therapy, it’s good. I need the direction. But it can’t stop there.

For my shoulder pain to get better, I have to continue the stretching and strengthening routines outside the appointments. The ‘three times a week’ I see the PT in the office is just not enough.

I have to work at it three times a day. Every day.

In the same way, I can’t leave my prayer and praise at church. I have to continue it at home, on the job, in my life. Everyday. If I don’t, it reduces my relationship with the Lord to an appointment. I’d rather have a full life with the Lord.

I looked over at the chair.

This time he’s smiling, and nodding in agreement. He wants a full life with me too.

Linking today with: The Friday Five Fellowship

Wow. That was stupid.

That will never work.

Your hair is a disaster.

No one wants to sit with you.

If someone said any of these things to my child, husband or friend, I would be incensed. How dare you say something so cruel to someone I love?

You’ve heard the expression “Tiger Mom”? I’d make that mom blush with shame. I would make sure that everyone knew: That kind of talk is not acceptable. It will not be tolerated. You’ll be asked to leave.

But here’s the thing. The person who said those things is someone I know. And the person they were directed to is someone I know too.

It’s me.

Isn’t that crazy? The very language that I wouldn’t accept coming from someone else, I’ll accept from myself.

I like to think that I have a reasonable level of intelligence. I have a healthy self-esteem. No one can take that from me.

Except me.

I remember one incident in particular. It was my turn to come up in front of the church and read the Prayer List to the congregation.

I know some people have trouble pronouncing names, but I’m pretty good at it. All those years of calling patients from the waiting room to the exam rooms, I guess.  So up the stairs I climbed to the microphone. I make it through the list without a problem.

Returning to my seat, I didn’t get the usual “Nice job” from my husband. After church, walking out to the car, I found out why.

Chuckling, he told me I had mispronounced a name. I had read “Stash” (as in ‘cash’), a first name. He told me that was a European name pronounced “St-ahhh-sh”.

Oh no. I was mortified. I hoped the poor man’s family wasn’t in the church to hear me bungle the name. And the voices started gearing up. “You’re so dumb! Why didn’t you ask someone to look over the list with you? You looked like a fool!”

My mind was working overtime to beat me down.

When I told my husband how I felt, he had to spend some time talking me down from my self-imposed ledge.

I did finally come to understand that the voices in my head have very little to do with the truth. They have everything to do with making me feel really, really bad.

That’s not my voice. And it certainly isn’t God’s either.

So when those insults start flying, and my self-esteem is bottoming out, I stop myself right there. I mentally take a step back and ask myself, “Who’s talking here?”  It sure sounds like evil.

I’ll ask Jesus to be my bouncer; he’s experienced at that. I pray that he will come and throw that voice out of the Temple. Because I ask, he will answer.

The Temple is where my heart and soul live. And you know what? I don’t tolerate that kind of talk in the Temple. Neither does Jesus.

You know what? Neither should you.

She stood in the middle of the room. One finger in her mouth, one hand grasping the rhythm stick with a death grip.

Dance class for two and three year old’s had begun. The instructor enthusiastically led eight little girls in pink leotards and white tights around the room. Each little one swished the ribbons on the sticks to and fro.

She stood and watched. Now and again, the teacher would glide by the Observer and grab her by the hand. “Jump!” “Jump!” the leader would call out merrily. Happy for the hand, she would try with all her might to jump. I saw a little smile creep across her face.

But when the teacher would drop her hand, she stood alone again.

Finally, after thirty minutes, she’d warm up enough to join the class. The teacher was passing out stuffed animals now. Each student got a little partner. The teacher showed them how to sway around the room, cradling their bunny, bear or monkey. It looked like prom night at the zoo.

After class was dismissed, and the Observer was home for a few hours, a funny thing happened. She would spontaneously burst into fits of dance, running around the first floor of the house, stopping for only a moment to jump.

“Did you do that at class today?” her Daddy would ask. “Yeah!” the Observer would joyfully respond. And off she’d go to find her dance partner among the stuffed animals in the corner.

I see myself in her.

I got overwhelmed when I decided to start volunteering. There were so many choices. I could spend time with groups in the town, church or local schools. The opportunities were endless.

I would look around at all the people who gave so much of themselves to others. Like the dancers the Observer saw, they forgot themselves, moving and twirling to the music of love of neighbor.

I really wanted to join them. I just couldn’t figure out how.

Friends would invite me to join in on a project. I would tag along and work really hard, grateful for the direction. But as soon as the project was over, I was back to square one. I loved the experience, but I was still unable to pinpoint what I wanted to do.

Finally, I decided on helping at a homeless shelter. I would be there for over ten years. I had come home in that service, and found my joy.

No longer an observer, I danced with my partners who volunteered at the shelter. We all had a love for the work and had fun serving. No longer just watching, I became a part of the dance.

The Observer is on her way. She found a place to dance in her home too. Right now, it doesn’t matter where she dances. She’s learning. Just like I did.

Just keep watching, Little One. And keep up the good work at home. You’ll find your place in the class.

Just keep dancing.

I’d love to see you over at the Facebook page for the blog. I hope you’ll ‘like’ it too!

On this Valentines Day, I pray that all of you will experience at least one person telling or showing you how  truly special you are. Some people think it’s just a ‘Hallmark Holiday’, but it’s really a wonderful opportunity to spread the love we have for God, and for each other.

Which reminds me; I need to remember to thank God for all his love for me. He is always thinking of me. I hope to praise him a just a little bit more today.

A few weeks ago, Patty at Reasons for Chocolate (isn’t that a wonderful name for a blog??) made me feel special. She nominated me for the Sunshine Award. I was so surprised and humbled by her nomination. Thank you so much for my early Valentines gift!

Part of accepting the award is to list ‘ten things about me’. I assume they are supposed to be interesting, but let’s remember who we are dealing with here.

I’ll do my best.

1) I am in therapy for my shoulders; I have had therapy on my knees. I use orthotics in my shoes. I am a skeletal disaster.

2) I attended an all-girls high school and an all-girls college. I cruised to my college classes in jean overalls and a bandana tied kerchief style on my head. This was the unofficial uniform of our school, and I loved it.

3) About twice a year, I have to sleep just about all day. My body just says: “Thank you, I’m done now.”  It never fails to amaze my husband. Well, if you have to be tired, might as well sleep like a champ.

4) Quick side note to Maxwell House. Thank you for Cafe Vienna. I LOVE that stuff!

5) I was a swimmer and diver, starting at the age of five. I swam in college too. I used to do a reverse dive…until some helpful person said “Wow, it looks like your head is so close to the board!”   R.I.P. reverse dive.

6) My wine of choice is pinot noir. But anything, other than chardonnay? That’s ok too.

7) The thought of an egg and pepper sandwich nauseated me. Until I tried one. Thank you, Italian husband.

8) As both of my children and husband know, I am a grammar fiend. God forbid you end a sentence in a preposition around me. Some of my proudest moments as a Mom include the times my children have corrected me.

9) You know how a dog makes circles for a while before lying down? That’s me trying to force myself in that chair to write.

10) I have the best ever blog-friends. BEST EVER.

Phew! Made it.

Part of the award is nominating fellow bloggers who “positively and creatively inspire others in the blogosphere.” I can honestly say that is every single one of you. You all never fail to inspire me.

So in the spirit of love on Valentine’s Day, please accept my nomination. Here are the guidelines:

The Rules:

1. Use the award logo in your post.
2. Link to whoever nominated you.
3. Tell us 10 pieces of information about yourself.
4. Nominate fellow bloggers who “positively and creatively inspire others in the blogosphere”.
5. Leave a comment on the nominees’ blogs to tell them of the award.

Happy Valentines Day to everyone, and happy nomination too! Your blog-friendship has made me one happy blogger. You show me your love for the Father and for each other every day. I am truly blessed.

I’d also like to thank Jennifer at The Deliberate Mom for including me in her list of 14 blogs she loves to follow! We’ve known each other for a while, and I always enjoy reading about her family, faith and craft ideas. She never fails to encourage me!

Would you be a sweetheart and ‘like’ my Facebook page?

YOW!

It was still dark when I reached for the alarm clock. Flinging my arm from under the covers, I felt a sharp ‘zing’ in my shoulder.

That wasn’t the first time. I’d get that pain while grabbing the seatbelt in the car. Stretching my arm to get into a low cabinet was painful too.

I told my husband about it. He told me that he had the same thing. Oh great. Another lovely ‘bonus’ that comes with aging.

I tried to accommodate. I changed my workout routine and I was cleaning less frequently. It didn’t seem to help. Actually, it got worse.

Finally, I couldn’t take it anymore. I made an appointment with the doctor.

Turns out I had a ‘frozen shoulder’ on one side and ligament thickening on the other. I accepted the prescription for physical therapy; happy I didn’t need anything invasive.

Now on a journey from brokenness to healing, I am reminded of being on that same path with the Lord. I have been broken, both from him and from his people.

Sometimes the pain comes from fractured relationships or disappointments. Resentment builds up, and I become hardened. “Frozen.” I just stop reaching out.

I’ll keep up the easy relationships, the ones that don’t take too much effort. But the challenging ones? No thanks. I don’t want to get hurt again.

The nagging heartache makes me put myself first too.  Instead of joyfully helping a friend, all I think about is the energy it will take. So I start saying no. “I just can’t help you.” Having a broken heart is exhausting.

To be healed, I have to go to my Father. Standing before him, crippled and sore, I look up into his loving eyes. I’m not even sure anymore how got this bad. I just know I need help.

Once I admit that I can’t move, the Lord moves quickly. Under the umbrella of his warm love, my twisted heart relaxes and expands. In the embrace of his love and care, I am healed of resentment and bitterness. I am a new creation.

At first, it sure seemed easier to just remain frozen in my own ego. But that’s not what I am created for…I am created to act justly, love mercy and walk humbly. To do that, I’ll need God’s spiritual therapy. Once that course of treatment is done, I can reach out in love again.

I started physical therapy two weeks ago. The doctor warned me that the therapy would not be pleasant, but it’s needed to loosen the joint and the ligaments. I won’t get better without it.

The physical therapist added that her mom had a frozen shoulder too. She waited so long for treatment that she had to be under anesthesia for treatment. Yikes! I’m glad I went to the doctor when I did.

It’s a cautionary tale for my spirit. When I start feeling those resentments, it’s time to go. I don’t want to get ‘frozen’ again.

I need to see the Healer. I won’t get better without him.

Come and see the photos of my granddaughter’s Baptism on my Facebook page!

My kids used to play ‘hot lava’ in the family room. The lava was the carpet, so you had to avoid stepping on the floor.

They’d put cushions down, and climb all over the furniture. This image made me smile just remembering those days. I think they would have jumped at the chance to do it in a furniture store, don’t you?

I am out of town, celebrating the Baptism of Elizabeth Ann. I’ll see you back here on Wednesday. Let’s make a date to meet then, ok?

Have a wonderful day!

Ceil

“What’s America’s pastime?”

You might be tempted to answer “Baseball.” I’m going to go out on a limb here and say “judgment.”

Every morning, I grab some coffee and the newspaper. Let the games begin.

I read about judicial trials, Good Samaritans and sports figures behaving badly. And I develop an opinion about all of it.

Opinions are fine, we all have reactions and ideas about the world. The trouble comes when I decide a person’s character based on the single event I see.

Now that’s a problem.

Do you know how to pick a good pineapple? I don’t. I love to eat them, but how to figure out which one is good or bad? It’s a mystery to me. I look carefully over the crackly, spiny skin. But I’ll never know for sure what’s going on inside. Is it ripe? Good to eat?

Snap Decisions

It’s the same process with forming an opinion about someone. At first meeting, I don’t have any idea what that person is like. But, just like the pineapple, I might be tempted to look at the outside and make a judgment.

I’m sure that many people have made assumptions about me. All based on my ‘outside;’ my face, my clothes; that’s about it. I’m sure that anyone looking at my jeans and tee shirt couldn’t begin to guess my personality or spirit. Yet, it happens all the time.

Not taking the time to listen and understand, I might be dismissed. Or I might dismiss you.

Case in Point

I am very reliable behind the wheel. I don’t excessively speed, I don’t drink and drive and I know where I am going.

But if I am out of town, or out of state, getting around can be a challenge. Sometimes I am reduced to fumbling my way over to the correct lane position, or slowing down to exit on that ramp I ALMOST MISSED! Phew!

If you were driving in the car behind me, what would you be thinking? (Can you say it out loud?)

Plenty of people on that road would love to tell me what kind of person I am. Spacey, distracted, dangerous.  But that’s not me.

I have been robbed of my rich identity by one event in my day.

Love in Action

Judgment creates strain. It breaks people apart. The wedges that result cause fractures in the Body of Christ. We were designed to be a seamless garment, and should be intertwined together. We were made to support each other in the Lord.

The remedy? I need to slow down and think about the judgments I make. My goal is to be Christ to each person I meet.

Let no corrupting talk come out of your mouths, but only such as is good for building up, as fits the occasion, that it may give grace to those who hear.     Ephesians 4:29

Wouldn’t it be great if America’s pastime was ‘Love of Neighbor’?

That would be creating heaven on earth. And isn’t that what the Lord calls each of us  to do?

Linking today with: Essential Fridays Link-Up and Friday Five

Won’t you join me by ‘liking’ my Facebook Page ?