Oh that I would...

Oh, that I would live and be:

compassionate

pure

holy

nurturing

giving

joyful

peaceful

accepting

non-judgmental

discerning

wise

aware

helpful

selfless

successful in business

creative in all areas of life

talented

open to new ideas
dependable

forward thinking

goal setter

goal reacher

planner

do-er

teacher
reliable

energetic

a good steward of all gifts to me

Purity of Heart: definition

This is very much related to my post entitled, New Year New Decade, posted Jan 20, 010, below. ‘might be a good idea to read that again first and then this one.

Purity of heart: A heart cleansed of all that stuffocates the Image of God within and that does not allow Him to live/breathe/act/be in and through His creation (us) and so without that purity would always miss The Call.

As He un-earths each ‘bad’ belief, we might also want to ask Him to reveal its counter-belief – the ‘replacement belief’  from Him – so that we can affirm it and set it in the proverbial stone in our minds as well as in our hearts.  And, then, we would live a free-er, more balanced, productive, creative life as it would be Him in and through our every thought and action. And we really would be able to follow where He leads because nothing would be holding us back.

He who has begun a good work in us is faithful to complete it.

I would love to hear your thoughts and reflections on this concept. Please post at ‘comments’ below….

FOOTBALL: the perspective of two 20-something women

Reading my niece's perspective on football on her blog (www.irunmanymiles.blogspot.com - please find it there, you'll love it) reminded me of my daughter's perspective written 2 years ago.  Becca has a blog, too, which I thoroughly enjoy (www.bexandherlife.blogspot.com). But she gave me permission to print her musings on football here. (this is published in a compilation book  called Seasons of our Souls: Sharing our Thoughts on the Journey, available at lulu.com)
I WOULD LOVE TO HEAR OTHER WOMEN'S PERSPECTIVES ON FOOTBALL, TOO! SO....please leave a comment or a story or even a novella.....

Football

by Rebecca Wills

Over the weekend, I attended my first football game. For those of you who find it astonishing that a 24 year old American has never once watched a football game, I must explain. My family has never been a sports family, at least not traditional team sports. My cousins did play ice hockey growing up and I remember watching the Devils practice quite often at the local ice rink. There was a brief stint when my older sister was a Mets fan, but I believe that just lasted through high school. Other than that, since my little sister and I are actively involved in the Hunter Jumper Equestrian arena we have been faithful equestrian.
So, now you may ask, what prompted this visit to a football stadium? My little sister is in the marching band. More precisely, as a senior in college and in her first year of marching band she was selected to be band pit leader.
I found myself wandering in, lost, in support of my dear kid sister.  Once I found her she told me to select a seat near the 50 yard line to supply me with the best visual for the half-time game in which she would be performing. Since I had gotten there rather early I found a fabulous seat:  front row at the 40 yard line. This section of general admission was quickly filled with the gorilla killaz, the school spirit section (since the opposing team's mascot was a gorilla). Oh, joy.
Now even though I did not grow up watching sports, since I moved from the East coast to the Midwest, where no one has any idea who the Devils are I might add, I have found opportunities to go to several team sport events. My company sponsored a kids’ softball team this past spring and I caught on pretty quickly. I recently enjoyed the first major league baseball game I attended and I have learned to love soccer. I figured football wouldn't be so hard. Boy, was I wrong.
Flying solo to this event with no one  to coach me on how the game was played I was forced to learn by observation only. So after the first hut (is this the right term?) I tried desperately to find the ball. To no avail. I had no idea where it went after it left the hands of....was it the quarterback? Next start I figured I would watch to see who was being chased or tackled. I would follow the ball. So at the next start, I had my eyes peeled on the field, hoping to see where the majority of the action was so that I could see which team ended up with the ball. But it seemed to my untrained eye that everyone was tackled and half, if not more, of the players ended up on the ground!  I resorted to cheering when the gorilla killaz did and trying desperately to figure out what was actually going on.
I began to get bored of this exercise about half way through the 2nd quarter so I decided to start listening to the coaches. As it would turn out, the seat I had selected was perfect for that. I was sitting directly behind the defensive line and was able to hear the coaches very clearly; well, as long as the gorilla killaz were not shouting out some obscure command about breaking someone’s legs and how some of the players were of a variety of choice words. It also seemed that fate was smiling in my direction that day since the assistant defensive coach was rather handsome.  I found it pretty easy to watch and listen to him.
Half time went on without a hitch, except the baton twirler dropped the baton on a few occasions, and I have seen better dancers. I have to say watching my sister beating the gong, and running the mallets was very impressive.
After a very long second half and two overtimes we lost the game.
This is what I walked away with:
 1) the defensive team plays in order to get the ball back into our hands;  2) the assistant defensive coach is very handsome; 3) the offensive team is supposed to score, but seems to let the opposing team take control of the ball too often; 4) did I mention he had dark curly hair?;  and 5) football should be called warball.
Why you may ask? Well, first of all, it has nothing to do with feet except that the players are running on them and are continuously tripped up and fall off of them. And, secondly, it reminded me of the strategies of war. The soldiers (team players) go out and do what their CO's (Commanding Officers/Coaches) tell them to do in order to win their country (ball). Each play is like a small battle in the great war and the soldiers fight tirelessly to gain each goal and to keep their country ruling their territory. Oh, and did I mention that one coach was hot?

My husband is teaching me how to put photos here:)

he said, why don't you click on the picture? duh...

Dang, he's smart....no wonder I married him!

The Entrepreneur Next Door -Ordinary People Doing Extraordinary Things (ROD MAY)

Nostalgia.  It’s what Rod May, Sr. likes his family business reflects.  With its worn oak floors and high tin walls, horse tack on hooks, and bird seed, horse feed and dog food bags piled high, stepping inside May Milling Feed Store at 606 Main Street, Grandview is like being wrapped in memories of long ago. Yes, nostalgia. Yet May Milling, part of a business started by Rod Sr.’s great grandfather in 1894, is a vital part of a changing community.

In 1930, the year Rod Sr. was born, his grandfather sold the feed portion of his feed, coal and material business to his son for $1. In 1934 Rod busied himself removing nails from the old wood of freight cars to build the roof of today’s barn. By 1939, when the mill behind the barn burned down, he was making deliveries with his uncle.  Talking to Rod is like opening an Americana album. He is filled with stories, like the time his father visited President Harry Truman at the White House due to the scarcity of molasses and was waved in ahead of many others because Truman wanted ‘to see someone from home.’ He shares tales of national holidays celebrated grandly with community picnics, parades and concerts. Rod, a gifted musician, seriously considered professional music as a career, particularly big band or jazz. After college and the army, his locally-famous orchestra, The Rod May Band, set up on a Diamond T flat bed truck at 8th & Main during Labor Day celebrations, playing into the wee hours.  But wisdom won over love of music. Rod chose helping his father in the family business for his life’s work.  After all, it had been a part of who he was since age four.

Rod and wife Norma Jean have two sons, and are thankful they both live nearby. Rod wouldn’t change a thing about his life choices.

“Do what you love!” he would tell any young person. “You’re bound to do a better job than if you did something you didn’t like.” Rod May Sr. has proven it.

After graduate school, dad offered Rod Jr. a job. Rod, Jr. is a musician, too, playing trumpet since age 10.  Professional music crossed his mind, but it didn’t seem a secure way to raise a family, now that he and Laura were married. He said yes to joining dad as a manager. He enjoys his customers thoroughly and has met people from the business and family’s distant past, opening his eyes to his rich history. It’s given him a sense of belonging to his roots.  Rod Jr.’s advice?

 “Education is still a good first option for any young person, because you really can’t know too much. But be prepared to take different courses, because that’s what life is going to be about.”

Working together all these years has been a delight to these two, They have learned to appreciate one another in greater ways than most fathers and sons have the opportunity. And music is still in their blood. Both father and son practice their trumpets daily. May Milling plays jazz all day long. As Rod Sr., says, “It’s the swinging-est feed store in town.”

You can visit Rod Sr. and Rod Jr. Monday through Friday 8 to 5 and Saturdays 8 to 4.

new year/new decade

if this is thought to be a happy new year post, then it's a little late.

the new year has begun. thankfully.

in fact, it's a new decade. better.

and i've already begun to make some changes in my life.

in fact, i started a few months ago to work on leaving behind the junk in my life/heart/mind before entering a new decade. this, of course, will be a forever process.

my goal is to rid myself of every limiting, unsupportive and negative belief and belief system in my heart that stuffocates the Image of God that lives first in that place. to unearth and unloose and throw away those things that piled up since childhood, that cover up and stuff down and suffocate the Image of God within.

i'm thinking that will give His Image the ability to breathe and move and think through me. and live through me.

and i'm thinking that by allowing Him to be all in me - compassionate, creative, kind, hopeful, giving, selfless, loving, non-judgmental or critical, accepting, successful, holy - all that He is, ad infinitum - should help to make my corner of the world a wee bit better. in other words, i really will make a positive, lasting difference in the lives around me.

i hope to succeed.  i am determined to continue until i do.

these are just my thoughts and intentions i choose to share with you.

****************************

i pray your new year is one you will look back on with no regrets. and that your days will be filled with all the love, joy, peace, health and prosperity that i know God intends for you.

Communication – no words needed

I watched in fascination as the two men worked together in near silence. They walked from one piece of furniture to the next and with a nod, a grunt or a one word question like, ‘good?’, they moved every piece out of three rooms in less than 30 minutes, easily fitting it perfectly into nooks and crannies of other rooms in the house.

How did they know what to pick up next, where to place their hands and when to move? Is this what true team work is all about? When you’ve worked together for so long, you don’t need words to communicate?

I Give Thanks

I am thankful for every gift of friendship.
Where are my friends?
I’ve lost touch with so many.
Yet they remain in my heart.
I pray they forgive my lack of contact.
My list is long for those who receive my thoughts and prayers. And each who has befriended me is named.
I thank the Lord for every one. And ask Him to bless them where each is needing His touch.
Happy Thanksgiving.

Absolute Joy

How does a child receive? With joy and anticipation and delight. A child receives with no strings attached and with openness and thankfulness and appreciation. They receive in their innocence.

Oh, that we as adults would recognize the gifts of life that enter our days – shelter, food, the ability to communicate, our jobs, our friends and families, the very air we breathe – and that we would receive these gifts with that same childlike thankfulness. Then we, too, could abandon our days to absolute joy. I  wonder what the result would be in my life and in the lives I touch. I wonder what it would be like if everyone abandoned themselves to that intense childlike thankfulness.

Oh, Say, Can You See?

How come everyone else can put their videos off to the side on their blogs??? Anyway, here comes another one right in my post list. But, it's a good one. You may have already seen it because it's making the rounds this week pretty quickly. And for a very good reason.
Here's to a great nation worth singing about and fighting for!

Moments in Time

…now it’s 10:15 p.m. and I’m taking this time, sitting in bed with my writing pad and a cool glass of Chardonnay, just for me. Besides my morning prayers, I so rarely have time alone. This feels good.
Perhaps these hectic days will teach me to cherish and savor every wonderful moment of my life. And to enjoy every not-so-wonderful moment. Because each one passes into all eternity, never to return.
If there was no time before this life, and there is no time beyond this life, and if God knows the end from the beginning, and if time is of no essence to Him, then is the time just passed actually past or is it still part of the before, now and future? Does all time exist in a before/during/after state? So that one moment past has also not yet occurred?
Maybe I’m just tired. Too tired. Regardless, back to my original thought:
I need to cherish every moment. Especially the good and wonderful and joyful moments, the complete and fulfilling and fulfilled moments. Because whether or not time was/is/will be, there is no doubt that my experience of that moment will never occur again.

Fall is More than the Morning Chill

Fall is the morning chill as we leave for work or school,
when the sun has not quite come out of it’s sleepy hiding.
It’s needing a sweater – but not yet a coat –
to feel perfectly comfortable.
And gazing up at noon
to the deepest and clearest
sapphire sky painting the heavens.

And, of course, it’s watching the leaves turn -
bright magenta, royal purple, dazzling yellow and orange.
Then seeing them lightly make their way to the ground.
It’s listening to them rustle as we walk through them.
And imagining their piles in lawns and fields and roadways
as giant hideaways for four legged creatures.
It’s laughing when the wind picks up
and the piles disband, taking off,
running wildly down nature’s corridors.

It’s windows open during daylight hours,
and smiling to hear my many window wind chimes tinkle gaily
as the breeze enters and tickles them.

Fall is keeping the windows open through the night
and nestling under a soft blanket –
wondering how long before I’ll be cuddled under
my thick down comforter.

Fall is crisp air.
And change.
And clarity.
And new beauty.
It is the final preparation
for the end of yet another year.