How many times have you heard these words - "there is no time like the present? The admonition of that question is that it's best to go ahead and complete whatever task is at hand.
I recently enjoyed The Second Most Exotic Marigold Hotel. There is no doubt in my mind but that I'll want to see it again and maybe again because when I go to a movie (especially one with lots of character actors) I seem to miss some of the best lines. That would be one of the con's when determining if the book or the movie is better. When one reads, it's easy (and doesn't cost any extra) to re-read. That however, is not my goal as I put my thoughts into words, sentences and paragraphs today.
Back to the movie. Maggie Smith's wonderful character, Muriel, takes those words - "no time like the present" and changes their position -
"There is no present like time".
I am not going to spoil the movie for you - even though you probably can guess. After all the guests at the Marigold Hotel have more memories than responsibilities.
And in many ways what they have is TIME.
Something Muriel is accepting as she would a present - a gift?
For my entire adult life I've been sort of like the white rabbit in the Disney presentation of Lewis Carroll's Alice in Wonderland - "I'm late! I'm late! For a very important date! No time to say hello, goodbye! I'm late! I'm late! I'm late!"
Even if I wasn't really late, I seemed to think a busy life was the better way to be. I think was equating self worth with the amount of work I could get done.
Last year I went on a cruise. It was a lovely "get away". However, as I reflected on it for many weeks and months I would say "but it didn't have a purpose".
I certainly was missing the truth I later heard from Muriel's mouth. And truth be told, it's something I have a hard time really claiming. You can't change a leopard's spots.
Or can you?
Wednesday, March 25, 2015
Tuesday, February 24, 2015
Only one life...
In my mind's eye I can still see it...
A small crystal plaque that sat on one of the corner cabinets in grandparents' living room on which these words were inscribed:
"Only one life will soon be past; only what's done for Christ will last".
And why am I thinking of those words this morning?
Between January 30 and May 16 of this year, I will have participated in FIVE special events. Three down; two to go.
And I truly enjoy each and every one of those events.
This would be a good thing - since the words, Special Event Planner are often next to my name.
And why do I do this?
Is it because it's a way to supplement my Social Security? Am I hoping to "meet someone"? Shouldn't I just be enjoying retirement? Or do I JUST like being busy?
Yes on the Social Security and yes I like doing something that has a purpose.
But the bottom line is that when I was in the 9th grade I heard what a youth pastor whose name was Ted Place was saying and when he asked who wanted to surrender their lives to full time service to Christ, I stood up.
A few years ago when I was complaining about some of the difficulty I was enduring another minister asked me a question.
"Didn't you sign up?"
My quizzical response was met with "You know, like Isaiah".
I remembered the Old Testament prophet's words: "Here I am, send me". And I remembered that day so many years ago when I stood up.
Somewhere deep within my spirit is a desire to do something meaningful with my life. - to make a difference - to put into practice those words that I remember from my grandparents' shelf.
Only one life will soon by past; Only what's done for Christ will last".
The teen aged Paula thought that meant going to France as a missionary. Paula as a college student thought it meant marrying a minister. As a mother of three it meant teaching them to love and serve God. And now as a grandmother on the minus side of 70?
I still like those words on the shelf.
I also like these that are found in The Message (a translation of Scripture)
Make the most of each day! Whatever turns up, grab it and do it. And heartily"(Ecclesiastes 9:10)
And that my friend, is why I do what I do.
A small crystal plaque that sat on one of the corner cabinets in grandparents' living room on which these words were inscribed:
"Only one life will soon be past; only what's done for Christ will last".
And why am I thinking of those words this morning?
Between January 30 and May 16 of this year, I will have participated in FIVE special events. Three down; two to go.
And I truly enjoy each and every one of those events.
This would be a good thing - since the words, Special Event Planner are often next to my name.
And why do I do this?
Is it because it's a way to supplement my Social Security? Am I hoping to "meet someone"? Shouldn't I just be enjoying retirement? Or do I JUST like being busy?
Yes on the Social Security and yes I like doing something that has a purpose.
But the bottom line is that when I was in the 9th grade I heard what a youth pastor whose name was Ted Place was saying and when he asked who wanted to surrender their lives to full time service to Christ, I stood up.
A few years ago when I was complaining about some of the difficulty I was enduring another minister asked me a question.
"Didn't you sign up?"
My quizzical response was met with "You know, like Isaiah".
I remembered the Old Testament prophet's words: "Here I am, send me". And I remembered that day so many years ago when I stood up.
Somewhere deep within my spirit is a desire to do something meaningful with my life. - to make a difference - to put into practice those words that I remember from my grandparents' shelf.
Only one life will soon by past; Only what's done for Christ will last".
The teen aged Paula thought that meant going to France as a missionary. Paula as a college student thought it meant marrying a minister. As a mother of three it meant teaching them to love and serve God. And now as a grandmother on the minus side of 70?
I still like those words on the shelf.
I also like these that are found in The Message (a translation of Scripture)
Make the most of each day! Whatever turns up, grab it and do it. And heartily"(Ecclesiastes 9:10)
And that my friend, is why I do what I do.
Wednesday, February 18, 2015
The shepherd came home
Vacation Bible School, 1955. I was 8 years old. My great aunt, Lila Newton was the storyteller for the Primary Department and every day for two weeks she stood at a flannelgraph board, dressed as a shepherd and taught us about the Twenty-third Psalm. I guess that is when my love for shepherds was born. It was also at about that time that my love for words was developing and even then, although I didn't understand the word, I understood the concept of a simile.
Through the years I have appreciated Dorothy Thupp's words set to William Bradbury's music in the hymn, "Savior, Like a Shepherd Lead Us" and I am pretty sure it's because I remember the way Aunt Lila taught me "The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want..." (Psalm 23:1).
Many years later as I was looking for a Christmas 2008 gift for my daddy, my mother reminded me that he loved the 23rd Psalm and suggested a gift that would be an icon - something he could look at and find contentment. We knew that daddy's health was waning.
I found a statue of a shepherd, fashioned to look like Jesus - at least the way most artists have represented Him - with a staff, a sheep and one small lamb.
At that time, daddy was still up and about right much, so the shepherd was placed in our living room on a table next to a recliner where he spent a lot of time. Over time, the shepherd followed daddy to a bedside table and it was on that table when daddy died in September 2009.
I have recalled that afternoon and remembered how special it was when the Rev. Kevin Pound personalized the 23rd Psalm with words like "we know that you are Earl's shepherd; that you have prepared a table for Earl...". etc. I firmly believe that on that afternoon when my daddy died, he knew he was going to meet the Shepherd.
The replica of the shepherd was placed on a shelf in my mothers' room and I'm sure it gave her some comfort.
However, in September of 2013, my friend, John Gates, was diagnosed with Leukemia and I asked my mother if I could loan him daddy's shepherd.
"Actually," my mother said, "that shepherd should be yours".
John also loved the 23rd Psalm and he gratefully agreed to borrow it. I hoped it would bring him peace and contentment as he went through Chemotherapy.
When I visited, I often saw the shepherd.
I hoped there would be the time that he no longer needed it. I hoped the Chemotherapy would be successful. I hoped he would be coming home.
He did. For a while. And then the time came that no amount of any medical treatment was going to help and in January he lost his valiant battle and I lost a dear friend.
Last week as I visited with his wife, Diane, she handed me a bag. It held the shepherd.
And now, once more that shepherd is on a table in my living room.
Just waiting until someone else might need it.
http://www.hymnary.org/text/savior_like_a_shepherd_lead_us
Through the years I have appreciated Dorothy Thupp's words set to William Bradbury's music in the hymn, "Savior, Like a Shepherd Lead Us" and I am pretty sure it's because I remember the way Aunt Lila taught me "The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want..." (Psalm 23:1).
Many years later as I was looking for a Christmas 2008 gift for my daddy, my mother reminded me that he loved the 23rd Psalm and suggested a gift that would be an icon - something he could look at and find contentment. We knew that daddy's health was waning.
I found a statue of a shepherd, fashioned to look like Jesus - at least the way most artists have represented Him - with a staff, a sheep and one small lamb.
At that time, daddy was still up and about right much, so the shepherd was placed in our living room on a table next to a recliner where he spent a lot of time. Over time, the shepherd followed daddy to a bedside table and it was on that table when daddy died in September 2009.
I have recalled that afternoon and remembered how special it was when the Rev. Kevin Pound personalized the 23rd Psalm with words like "we know that you are Earl's shepherd; that you have prepared a table for Earl...". etc. I firmly believe that on that afternoon when my daddy died, he knew he was going to meet the Shepherd.
The replica of the shepherd was placed on a shelf in my mothers' room and I'm sure it gave her some comfort.
However, in September of 2013, my friend, John Gates, was diagnosed with Leukemia and I asked my mother if I could loan him daddy's shepherd.
"Actually," my mother said, "that shepherd should be yours".
John also loved the 23rd Psalm and he gratefully agreed to borrow it. I hoped it would bring him peace and contentment as he went through Chemotherapy.
When I visited, I often saw the shepherd.
I hoped there would be the time that he no longer needed it. I hoped the Chemotherapy would be successful. I hoped he would be coming home.
He did. For a while. And then the time came that no amount of any medical treatment was going to help and in January he lost his valiant battle and I lost a dear friend.
Last week as I visited with his wife, Diane, she handed me a bag. It held the shepherd.
And now, once more that shepherd is on a table in my living room.
Just waiting until someone else might need it.
http://www.hymnary.org/text/savior_like_a_shepherd_lead_us
Friday, February 13, 2015
".. no sweetheart"
I heard this week that the average amount of money spent on valentine's gifts for one's significant other is $140
I also heard that men spend all of their allotted valentine's gift money on their wife or sweetheart while women purchase valentines and gifts for many more.
That would explain the gifts and cards I have for my mother, my children and grandchildren and a myriad of my friends (note - if you did not receive a personal Valentine present from me it's because my $140 could only go so far. And no, I didn't really spend 140 bucks -- nor have I ever nor do I think any one ever spent that on me.)
I just happen to like Valentines Day.
And I have incredible family and friends who I love and who love me.
Not to mention. . .
Almost 50 years ago I saw an early childhood Sunday School presentation A piece of poster board was the background for a large red heart with a small flap in the center. Behind the flap was a little mirror.
The words - "Look inside and see - Who does Jesus love?" surrounded the heart.
I knew that to be true then and I still believe it.
Which might makes my next words a bit of a paradox..
I don't really like it that I am not expecting to receive OR to give any special gifts of love. And truth be told, that makes me a bit sad.
I do have wonderful memories of Valentine's gifts - from husbands and an occasional sweetheart. But I think you could most easily descirbe me today in this little favorite verse that my father oft repeated...
"Cold hands warm heart, dirty feet, no sweetheart."
Kind of a silly little grouping of words iisn't it?. What in the world do you think it means.
Well just in case you are wondering, I not only wash my feet every day; I have regular pedicures - I mean - one never knows what lies ahead.
Saturday, February 7, 2015
And the wisdom to know the difference
I am really persnickety.
That means I have a tendency to place too much emphasis on trivial or minor details and I can be "way fussy". There are also more colorful ways to describe me. . .I'll leave that to your own devices.
I plan way in advance - just ask my children.
I give much attention to detail - just ask the people I work with.
And I really do like things "just so".
For example, my closet, my desk, my garage...
I have no idea why but I seem to think my closet should look as pretty as my bedroom and my garage should not only be organized but have an inviting atmosphere.
Some of my friends think I must have entirely too much time on my hands.
That's far from true - especially between November and May when I am diligently working on five major events in addition to pastoral care visits, times with my friends and family.
Another friend told me I like to have what I can control - under control ...because as we all know - life is far from under any control.
And so it is that on occasion I'll spend some time getting my personal space (the closet, the kitchen cabinets, the shelves in the garage) ORGANIZED.
Such was the case in January.
Time to put the Christmas decorations in their spot and start moving the winter decorations (New Year's, Valentine's, St. Patrick's Day) into a place that was easy to reach.
Which is where the title for my thoughts today comes from.
There once was an advertisement about some sort of headache relief and the woman snapped at her mother with these words "I'd rather do it myself".
Yep. That's me.
I was determined to put all those boxes on the shelves...and not ask for help. One, two, three boxes - hum - this was easy and then a couple more and then...
A huge box...and the space I had left was on the top shelf.
Oh, I could do that, I thought. All I had to do was move a table over - use the table for the landing and I could hoist the box right up into its special space.
Fortunately before I tried that there was a little voice that said - why do you have that nice neighbor, the man who works out every night - who can probably lift that container with one hand. I listened to that still small voice. I waited for my neighbor. The boxes are all in their place.
It doesn't always happen. But it's still a good goal!
That means I have a tendency to place too much emphasis on trivial or minor details and I can be "way fussy". There are also more colorful ways to describe me. . .I'll leave that to your own devices.
I plan way in advance - just ask my children.
I give much attention to detail - just ask the people I work with.
And I really do like things "just so".
For example, my closet, my desk, my garage...
I have no idea why but I seem to think my closet should look as pretty as my bedroom and my garage should not only be organized but have an inviting atmosphere.
Some of my friends think I must have entirely too much time on my hands.
That's far from true - especially between November and May when I am diligently working on five major events in addition to pastoral care visits, times with my friends and family.
Another friend told me I like to have what I can control - under control ...because as we all know - life is far from under any control.
And so it is that on occasion I'll spend some time getting my personal space (the closet, the kitchen cabinets, the shelves in the garage) ORGANIZED.
Such was the case in January.
Time to put the Christmas decorations in their spot and start moving the winter decorations (New Year's, Valentine's, St. Patrick's Day) into a place that was easy to reach.
Which is where the title for my thoughts today comes from.
There once was an advertisement about some sort of headache relief and the woman snapped at her mother with these words "I'd rather do it myself".
Yep. That's me.
I was determined to put all those boxes on the shelves...and not ask for help. One, two, three boxes - hum - this was easy and then a couple more and then...
A huge box...and the space I had left was on the top shelf.
Oh, I could do that, I thought. All I had to do was move a table over - use the table for the landing and I could hoist the box right up into its special space.
Fortunately before I tried that there was a little voice that said - why do you have that nice neighbor, the man who works out every night - who can probably lift that container with one hand. I listened to that still small voice. I waited for my neighbor. The boxes are all in their place.
It doesn't always happen. But it's still a good goal!
Friday, January 23, 2015
A cup of tea for one?
So - what do you do when your emotions are all over the place?
On Monday, January 19 I started this blog with these words:
"I'm a little teapot..." No I'm not.
I'm a person, a woman, a daughter, a sister, a mother, a grandmother, a friend, an employee, a minister. Did you see the letters t e a p o t anywhere in my description of myself?
I didn't think so.
It's just that right now I feel like if you tipped me over just a tad - everything would just come pouring out.
I'm going to make a confession -
For about the past I don't know how long lots of issues have been brewing - disappointment in people, fear of failure, insecurity in the workplace, a little bit of loneliness.
HUM -
When I was a little girl and right up to when my mother moved to Texas she always knew when I really needed a cup of tea. I don't think my she knew about the necessity of a chocolate biscuit. I'm sure however that she was most adept at helping me solve things when we were sharing a cup of tea.
HUM
I guess I'll have to make my own cup of tea.
On Monday, January 19 I started this blog with these words:
"I'm a little teapot..." No I'm not.
I'm a person, a woman, a daughter, a sister, a mother, a grandmother, a friend, an employee, a minister. Did you see the letters t e a p o t anywhere in my description of myself?
I didn't think so.
It's just that right now I feel like if you tipped me over just a tad - everything would just come pouring out.
I'm going to make a confession -
For about the past I don't know how long lots of issues have been brewing - disappointment in people, fear of failure, insecurity in the workplace, a little bit of loneliness.
HUM -
When I was a little girl and right up to when my mother moved to Texas she always knew when I really needed a cup of tea. I don't think my she knew about the necessity of a chocolate biscuit. I'm sure however that she was most adept at helping me solve things when we were sharing a cup of tea.HUM
I guess I'll have to make my own cup of tea.
My friend, Diane, loves a good cup of tea. She recently told me she's going to bring some better tea bags to my home. My questions is "so what's wrong with Lipton?" At any rate, as I have been grieving with Diane over the loss of her dear husband, John I have been drinking more tea. Last week I even painted a little tray and added an old teapot and one of my mother's wedding china cups. It just seemed like a fitting way to honor my friend in her early days of grief.
I was watching Downton Abbey, where tea time has so much value. I loved it when the new possibility for romance dropped by to say hello to Tom and we heard him say "I was just about to have a cup of tea".
When I wrote those words that afternoon, I was having a nasty day. Nothing felt right. I even had a thought that I wish my mother were here to make me a cup of tea. Instead I kept thinking and praying and hoping that I was going to snap out of it. And I did what Huffinghams (my grandma Lonnie, my daddy, my brother, Lester) are known to do - I went to bed. I thought I should just "sleep on it".
And the next day I posted the picture of the little tea tray I had created and got so many nice comments that I decided to use that as my Facebook cover page for a while.
My friend, Doris, asked a question - "a cup of tea for one"? When I put the tea tray together, I wanted to use the only cup I have left from my mother's wedding china...and these days - it is a cup of tea for one - unless you come for a visit and I'll find another cup.
Thursday, January 22 - I was once more stressed about a situation. I was the teapot!
But I asked for help. My friend, Sarah gave me a solution - and within two hours that problem was solved and I asked myself this question - Will I ever learn?
When I wrote those words that afternoon, I was having a nasty day. Nothing felt right. I even had a thought that I wish my mother were here to make me a cup of tea. Instead I kept thinking and praying and hoping that I was going to snap out of it. And I did what Huffinghams (my grandma Lonnie, my daddy, my brother, Lester) are known to do - I went to bed. I thought I should just "sleep on it".
And the next day I posted the picture of the little tea tray I had created and got so many nice comments that I decided to use that as my Facebook cover page for a while.
My friend, Doris, asked a question - "a cup of tea for one"? When I put the tea tray together, I wanted to use the only cup I have left from my mother's wedding china...and these days - it is a cup of tea for one - unless you come for a visit and I'll find another cup.
Thursday, January 22 - I was once more stressed about a situation. I was the teapot!
But I asked for help. My friend, Sarah gave me a solution - and within two hours that problem was solved and I asked myself this question - Will I ever learn?
Sunday, January 4, 2015
Thorns on the rose bush
Most people know the origin of the name of this blog - Sunshine and Shadows.
This is the quote that the Englewood High School annual staff chose for me in the 1965 Golden Fleece,
"She meets her trials with a smile and the shadows turn to light".
I have often said that those words were prophetic. Lots of shadows - needed lots of smiles.
But no more me than anyone else - really.
I was thinking about 2014 and all the wonderful things that happened to me - all the opportunities I had to smile.
There was my work - from planning the annual convention of the Episcopal Diocese of Florida to writing for Beson 4 publications to working on a Caregiver Expo for Community Hospice. I had lots of challenging and exciting experiences.
There was my service to Christ - especially as a Lay Eucharistic Minister, assisting in the administration of Holy Communion and visiting those who cannot come to a worship service, sharing communion and God's peace and love.
There was my family - being the notary who married my niece Lacie to the love of her life, Keith Belton, spending great time with my children and grandchildren and watching them grow in their spiritual lives as well as physically.
There were friends - a cruise with my friend Deborah Hansen, lots of coffee and lunch dates with a whole passal of other friends.
Everything was just rosie!
But the year was not without thorns.
Our family suffered a devastating loss when my great niece, Blakelie was suddenly snatched from us. I'll never forget my sister, Cindy's text - "She is with Jesus".
My friend, Doreen Egeln, one of the persons I had ministered to as a Pastoral Visitor, lost her valiant battle with colon cancer; my friend, John Gates is undergoing treatment for Leukemia, my aunt Gloria fell and broke her hip and on December 18 I had an automobile accident.
Thankfully no one was hurt - both cars were totaled, however and my self confidence has been dealt a huge blow.
The memory of those experiences begged a question - why do roses have thorns?
What did we do before the magic of GOOGLE? The thorns on the rose bush are a defense mechanism (according to Nature Center Magazine). Without the thorns, the roses wouldn't last very long.
And now it's 2015. There will be roses - opportunities to work and play, serve and learn. There will be beauty, joy, happiness. Life will be sweet. There will also be thorns - a piercing pain that is far greater than the prick of a thorn will bring with it the paralysis of emotions.
I can only pray that I will know those thorns have a purpose! And that I will know - there is sunshine - even when there are shadows.
This is the quote that the Englewood High School annual staff chose for me in the 1965 Golden Fleece,
"She meets her trials with a smile and the shadows turn to light".
I have often said that those words were prophetic. Lots of shadows - needed lots of smiles.
But no more me than anyone else - really.
I was thinking about 2014 and all the wonderful things that happened to me - all the opportunities I had to smile.
There was my work - from planning the annual convention of the Episcopal Diocese of Florida to writing for Beson 4 publications to working on a Caregiver Expo for Community Hospice. I had lots of challenging and exciting experiences.
There was my service to Christ - especially as a Lay Eucharistic Minister, assisting in the administration of Holy Communion and visiting those who cannot come to a worship service, sharing communion and God's peace and love.
There was my family - being the notary who married my niece Lacie to the love of her life, Keith Belton, spending great time with my children and grandchildren and watching them grow in their spiritual lives as well as physically.
There were friends - a cruise with my friend Deborah Hansen, lots of coffee and lunch dates with a whole passal of other friends.
Everything was just rosie!
But the year was not without thorns.
Our family suffered a devastating loss when my great niece, Blakelie was suddenly snatched from us. I'll never forget my sister, Cindy's text - "She is with Jesus".
My friend, Doreen Egeln, one of the persons I had ministered to as a Pastoral Visitor, lost her valiant battle with colon cancer; my friend, John Gates is undergoing treatment for Leukemia, my aunt Gloria fell and broke her hip and on December 18 I had an automobile accident.
Thankfully no one was hurt - both cars were totaled, however and my self confidence has been dealt a huge blow.
The memory of those experiences begged a question - why do roses have thorns?
What did we do before the magic of GOOGLE? The thorns on the rose bush are a defense mechanism (according to Nature Center Magazine). Without the thorns, the roses wouldn't last very long.
And now it's 2015. There will be roses - opportunities to work and play, serve and learn. There will be beauty, joy, happiness. Life will be sweet. There will also be thorns - a piercing pain that is far greater than the prick of a thorn will bring with it the paralysis of emotions.
I can only pray that I will know those thorns have a purpose! And that I will know - there is sunshine - even when there are shadows.
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