The pile

This is a picture of the pile of yard debris out by my curb. It contains several very dead branches from a boxwood, a tall, young oak tree that decided to spring up in the center of said boxwood, a bit of unproductive azalea, multiple branches of holly that were trying to become bushes again (that stuff will NOT die!), and a significant number of nandinas cut down this past Saturday. It makes quite the pile. By the time this is published, the pile will have been removed by the city workers to wherever it is that they take such things here and the curb area will be clean again.

The pile is actually pretty. There’s not a single thing in it that I haven’t, at some point in the past, used in a floral arrangement and sent out to bring cheer to someone I love.

What makes this time different? Location, timing, and knowledge.

If I had to guess, those are some of the same criteria I believe God uses when He starts the pruning process in my life…and, maybe, yours, too.

Some of the things in my pile looked pretty good in place, but they were dangerous to other living things. Some were thorny and could injure those who got too close. Others had already passed their usefulness and were simply taking up space required for new growth.

Again, I know God sees some of those same things in me. He, alone, knows the best times for the removal of those attitudes, actions, and beliefs that need to change–even if they might have been useful at some point in our past. When I grant Him full access, His activity in my life is a cause for celebration and brings me closer to the picture of what He has planned for my best interests…even if the pruning process isn’t usually all that comfortable…or pretty.

What if we looked at our current areas of discomfort for guidelines of what God might be choosing to prune for our growth instead of assuming “it’s the other guy’s fault” and joining in the fray? What if we trusted and cooperated instead of growing angry and frustrated? What if we chose peace instead of the pile?

“I am the true vine, and my Father is the gardener. ² He cuts off every branch in me that bears no fruit, while every branch that does bear fruit he prunes so that it will be even more fruitful. ³ You are already clean because of the word I have spoken to you. ⁴ Remain in me, as I also remain in you. No branch can bear fruit by itself; it must remain in the vine. Neither can you bear fruit unless you remain in me.“ John 15: 1-4 (NIV)

Grace and Peace!

The Ugly Stage

It doesn’t take me long to do a quick sketch or whip up a small drawing on a postcard. I have a pretty specific idea of what I want, grab a pen and card, do it, and move along. Easy peasy.

Taking on a larger work is quite a different story. This one is a great example. I painted the 18″x24″ canvas with a beautiful midnight blue cover coat over a year ago. I had a specific idea in mind, but I just haven’t been able to make myself start on it. Something’s not right. I haven’t been sure this was actually the canvas for it, the time for it, and…well, the size for it. In my mind, I just can’t make it fit. That project may need to be even larger.

I started off last week just putting some brush strokes in place for the base just to make sure. I was right. This canvas isn’t big enough for that vision. Moving on! What’s next? Something totally different while I keep thinking things through for that one…and where I can keep learning while I wait for “all the things” to gel in my mind.

Right now, I don’t know where this new one is going. I’m not sure what will happen or how long it will take to finish. I’m taking my time. Putting in a few touches at a time. Trying some new-to-me things. Standing back. Evaluating next steps, colors, and strokes. Taking a picture. Walking away. Thinking. Showing back up in front of it. Repeat, repeat, repeat. It’s all part of the process. I’m playing with it and just having fun right now. So far, so good. It’s still developing. It looks odd right now. I’m ok with that. I’m making progress.

Every painting has at least one “ugly stage,” and there’s always a purpose for it. I usually learn something to take it to the next level or, at the very least, to the next painting. Once I realized that, I’ve begun to look forward to getting there. It means things are about to turn and start getting better. Believe it or not, this painting still isn’t there yet. There’s some serious ugly yet to come and I can’t wait!

Sometimes our lives hit an “ugly stage,” as well. It isn’t nearly so much fun as my putting paint on a canvas. Those ugly stages can be quite painful and, since we aren’t in control, we have no idea how long they might last or what the intended purpose might be. but…

God knows.

He knows all about it. Better yet, He knows all about US. There IS a purpose and there is a plan. Scripture reminds us that–no matter who or what we’re dealing with!!–The Plan is for our eventual good. Just knowing that means I can start looking for the lesson. Somehow, that helps me. It isn’t bad luck and it isn’t random. God is at work in the ugly stages and He is in the busness of making all things new (Rev. 21:5).

“Behold, I am doing a new thing; now it springs forth, do you not perceive it? I will make a way in the wilderness and rivers in the desert.” Isaiah 43:19

Today I am praying that your ugly stages are shorter than mine and that your learning curve is quite a bit shallower! May God be praised no matter what stage we’re in and may our life canvases always bring Him glory.

Grace and Peace!

Practicing (part 2)

Over time and with the encouragement (pointed insistence) of my parents regarding practice time with my flute, I began to improve. That gave me opportunities to compete for higher chair placement (which I always hated, but somehow managed to do well in), attend several state clinics (again, not nearly as exciting to me as to my various band directors), and play in our small church orchestra (comprised of several other friends who also participated in local high school bands).

None of that mattered to me in any way as much as having my maternal grandmother ask me to bring my flute and play for her. She loved hymns. She lived hymns. That’s what mattered to me even when I KNEW I played poorly. She endured, yet still celebrated the varied results of my practice schedule…even in the ugly, painful, early days.

I had at last found the most important part of practicing anything: personal motivation. The results of practice have to matter more to you than any annoyance at all of the repetitions required for skill to arrive and become engrained.

I’ve had all kinds of opportunities to practice different things over the years. I have also been fortunate to have a wide variety of mentors who gave both encouragement and stellar examples of competency in their various skills. My favorites never used the word “practice.” They just said, “Now, do it again.” Even when they had to say that phrase more than once, I could focus on being better than my last attempt in a kind of self-competition, rather than feeling like it was “practice.” (Oh, the silly ways our minds can work!!)

Despite my personal motivation to acquire various skills (or perhaps because of it!), I allowed “repetition” to replace “practice” in my vocabulary most of the time. My personal aversion to the word meant a mental eyeroll, if not a physical one, whenever it occurred in a conversation.

Imagine my quandry when God began to use “that word” with me several months ago…

Grace and Peace!

Practicing (part 1)

When I was growing up, I hated “practice” time for almost ANYthing. Doing something over and over and over in hopes of gradually getting better at it has never held much appeal. I would much prefer to just pick up something (full disclosure: EVERYthing) and just be naturally fabulous at it. Doesn’t everyone?

I “officially” realized this about myself for the 1st time when I was in 6th grade. I had gone to the presentation for Beginning Band, tried a few instruments, convinced my parents to attend the meeting for the adults, and decided I wanted to play the flute. PLEASE notice that I did NOT write down that I wanted to LEARN to play the flute. I just wanted to play it.

It doesn’t work that way. For anyone. It is also much less likely when you assemble a whole bandroom full of non-prodigy individuals who ALL have new-to-them instruments and absolutely no concept of what to do with them. Painful. Terribly painful sounds occur. At incredibly loud volumes–because when you don’t know what you’re doing, louder is always the way for 6th graders to measure success. I tried to stay and tough it out, but it just didn’t work for me, so I cut my losses and quit.

I just stopped going. I left my flute in my bag under my desk and I stayed in my seat when they released the “band kids.” I stayed quiet and simply shook my head “no” when questioned by the teacher who allowed those who remained to have extra study time. It was the perfect win-win for me. Now I had extra time to read a book in the middle of a school day and a room kept deliberately quiet to do it in without all of that awful racket and the pressure to learn how to play in the middle of it.

Rookie mistake: I neglected to mention any of this to the band director. Because I actually AM smarter than I look (ha!) and I didn’t want to deal with the absolutely-certain-to-occur one-sided discussion that would not end in my favor, I also deliberately chose to say nothing of my decision to my parents, who–with no personal intentions of joining Beginner Band on their own–had just purchased a brand new flute.

It worked well for me for almost 6 weeks. That’s when the report cards came out…along with a note from the band director about my lack of attendance. Loud questioning ensued. Reasoned arguments, descriptions of horrific sounds, and tears made no impact whatsoever. The as expected one-sided discussion result arrived in force.

I was now destined to play the flute. Additionally, since I was now almost 5 weeks behind the rest of the beginning band students, I had the opportunity to “make up time” with extra practice. How delightful.

Equally delightful (not really) was that I had provided my parents their 1st opportunity to share a verbal lesson which would resound throughout our home for the rest of my childhood: “If you start it, you will finish it.” That lesson became something that inspired many a careful deliberation for future decisions, sparked fierce determination when life got tougher, and still rings in my head when I find myself in need of practicing…almost anything.

Grace and Peace!

Making lists

The plumbers came early this morning. That was fine with me. I had a list ready. They laughed about that…mainly, because they didn’t know me. That list was a given even before I called and asked them to come.

The list was long. So are the others. Yes, I have more than one. I’ve been working on them since we moved. The one for this morning covered something in every bathroom, the kitchen, living room, laundry, and–finally–the yard. The lady I spoke with last week told me that her guys would “be ready work when they arrive.” They were. That suited me, too, because I had another list ready, as well.

That one was for me. It involved talking with my mama, picking up limbs after last night’s storm, finishing a book, being grateful, talking with God, and finding a few recipes for the guests who will visit this coming weekend.

Those aren’t things that add to the bank balance, but they DO add to the life I’ve been working to figure out in this new place. As it turns out, God’s been ahead of me this whole time. He started several years ago by teaching me about Jesus, Winter, Margin, Curate, Create, Body/Soul/Spirit, and Community.

Each of these themes felt like life lessons in their own right, but that’s not all they were. They’ve been part of God’s list in preparation for where He has me now…and then God made me laugh as He reminded me of a small art piece I hung in front of my art table just last week. I made it back in 2019 with the advice I see now had His fingerprints ALL over it: “Make a list, not a schedule.”

Well played, God. Very funny.

Grace and Peace!

Off-kilter

I put in a load of sheets and headed to my art table. I’ve been trying something new this year–all 3 days of it! (Ha!)–and I was looking forward to seeing what the day might hold.

I’ve known for quite some time that I need to “loosen up” in my artwork. That’s harder to do than you might think. I’ve been doing a little research on it–because that’s obviously what you DO to loosen up (insert eye roll here!)–and I found that it’s actually a “thing” with whole classes and lots and lots of online tutorials to help artists overcome consistently (and insistantly!!) placing tight/controlled strokes and find more freedom in slinging paint where you want it to land…or perhaps, more accurately, learning to be ok with where it lands.

Part of me realizes this is an issue for me in more places than just canvas. Being in control…well…you know. Illusions. Maybe, just maybe, I’ll find a way to loosen up and give myself a break in some other areas along the way. We shall see.

Anyway! I have started the past several mornings by taking a pencil in each hand and drawing faces. The results have been highly entertaining and quite surprising. I didn’t think I could do it. Drawing both sides of a face at the same time? No way that would work for me. Several months ago, I watched in amazement as others gave it a go and found that I still wanted to put it off awhile longer until I figured some stuff out in my head.

It turns out that nothing shows up on the paper when you do it that way.

My 1st one, on New Year’s Eve, looked a bit like Morticia Addams on a hangover–an impression that only intensified when I used the leftover paint of blues and yellows from another project to color in her face. Pablo Picasso, eat your heart out! She is absolutely and horrifically awful…and she makes me laugh, which was kind of the point.

Giving yourself the freedom to be perfectly awful at something you really love is liberating. Being able to laugh at yourself is a good thing and I need to do more of that this year. Maybe you do, too.

Either way, as I finished drawing my 3 faces this morning and reveling in the freedom of being WAY less than perfect, I heard my washing machine start to announce that my drawing skills weren’t the only thing off kilter this morning.

This time, I just let the washer sort it out for itself…and all is still right with the world.

Grace and Peace!

Noticing November–Day 30

Our group text received a message from our #9 earlier this morning in which she reiterated her frequent urging, “DANCE, Y’ALL.” Her admonition came after she recounted a recent ballroom dance lesson in which she quite literally “had a ball” doing things her way. I’ve chuckled about it all morning, in part because of her description and, in part, because of my own disastrous ballroom dance lesson experiences many years ago. (Trust me. It was NOT the thing of beauty I had dreamed it would be.)

There hasn’t been a lot of opportunity for using what little I learned on the actual dance floor back then, but I have learned to “dance” in my own way and in my own time. My heart soars and I get lost in creating, writing, and finding beauty. I’m often surprised to see how much time has passed once I grab a paintbrush, start a new recipe, assemble a flower arrangement, or open up a really good book.

As we enjoy this last day of Noticing November, I hope you’ll spend some time thinking about what makes YOUR heart “dance,” and make both plans and place for enjoying that during the month of December.

Thanks for Noticing November with me. Now, get let’s get ready to dance!

Grace and Peace–and NO Complaints!

Noticing November 2023–Day 2

We had beloved company in the house this past weekend. A day or so before their arrival, I made a special trip to the grocery store to purchase flowers to celebrate: bright yellow mums and gorgeous orange mini-roses. Just the thing to celebrate them, their coming, our long-awaited ability to host them in our new home, and Autumn, I decided.

You might have noticed the decided lack of gorgeous orange mini-roses in the photo over there. That’s mainly because it didn’t take long for them to start drooping their heads…and then dropping them completely beside each of the arrangements strategically placed around the house…all except the small one located in the guest room. (Really.)

I laughed about it, at first, and filled a small white bowl beside my kitchen sink with water. There, I placed the fallen heads…and thought about how appropriate (in a slightly macabre way, of course) it was that Halloween would soon occur. Before long, the bowl was full and the ones that remained attached to their still-vibrant stems drooped, but held on throughout the visit. I noticed, of course, but declined to do anything with them until our company left yesterday morning, at which time I began to collect all of the arrangements and create new ones with the still-vibrant yellow mums. The gorgeous orange mini-roses were (and remain even now!) gorgeous, orange, and mini.

Although drooping and decidedly more brittle than they were before, it seemed wrong to abandon all opportunity to enjoy their still vibrant beauty. So…I cut off all the heads and arranged them on a plate where they are still gorgeous, orange, and mini…and drying for future uses. Meanwhile, they’re decorating the top of my granddaddy’s butcher block and making me smile every time I pass by them.

Things I’ve noticed:

*Some things whose time and prime has past don’t always appear that way at first glance.

*Not everything whose time has passed is ugly.

*Given a little time, even those things (and people) who have passed their prime or no longer fulfil their original function can become useful and enjoyed in other employment.

Thank you, God, for bright yellow mums and for gorgeous, orange mini-roses. For people we love and who love us in return, for lessons that add light and life to our lives–and opportunities to shine again when we think our lights have dimmed and our original purpose has ended, I give You thanks.

Instead of complaining about something (or someone) that isn’t living up to your expectation, try finding a new use or way to appreciate their contribution to your life…and don’t forget to tell God thank you for them!

Grace and Peace!

Noticing November

“For those who are counting, this is our 7th year to embrace this practice of positivity. Looking back, I noticed that I’ve developed somewhat of habit of waffling about whether or not to personally participate and blog about NCN over the past couple of years. As I scrolled through some of my previous posts, I was also reminded that God has consistently used NCN as a way to help me regain my focus…and, each year, He has shown up and reminded me that my blessings far out strip my capacity to count them.”

Becky Childs, quietambitions blog, November 1, 2022

The quote above is from my Day 1 post for last year’s #NoComplainNovember. Every detail remains the same…well, almost every detail. This year, a job change, subsequent move, multiple rounds of Covid, travel schedule, and other life details meant I COMPLETELY forgot about No Complain November until about 5 days ago…just before company arrived for a nice long weekend visit. I haven’t had much time to “waffle” about NCN, but I have been sensing the need to make a change, just the same.

I’ve spent the last 6 months handling every single item we own multiple times as we sold, donated, dispersed, packed, loaded, unloaded, unpacked, and began settling in place again. I have been incredibly tired and unspeakably blessed all at the same time. There hasn’t been a single moment when I wasn’t absolutely certain that God had orchestrated this move and has a plan for our good in this process.

Change. It’s not always easy and it’s not always bad. In this “year of many changes,” I have decided to make yet another one. In Scripture, the number 7, signals and symbolizes a time of completion. With what I feel is God’s blessing, I will be observing No Complain November in a different way this year. After seven years, I think I’ve gotten the hang of it and have even expanded the practice throughout MOST—well…many, anyway!–(insert wry grin here) of my other days, though unfortunately, not all…at least not YET. I still hold out hope for that!

THIS year, I will be writing posts about what I am Noticing this November. As the season changes and both the leaves and temps drift downward, I want to share some of the things that I notice about what God is doing in this new season of life change for us. It does us no good to stifle our complaints if we also fail to notice our blessings and consider what God would have us do with the changes He is consistently bringing into our lives.

It is my hope that you will join me in join me in both endeavors this year and actually share what YOU are noticing that God is bringing into your lives, as well.

Grace and Peace–and no complaints!

Cleaning up more than the pool

“The pool is clean.” That’s what my last text said. I wasn’t on site to see it, oversee it, inspect it, or use it, but I appreciated the notice just the same.

We’ve never had a pool before, so all the cleaning and maintenance is new to us. With a new job and the massive moving/unpacking to be done, we decided to rely on a professional to take care of the pool details for at least the rest of this season and, maybe, even beyond. Neither of us really have the bandwidth to take on the job of learning everything about saltwater pools right now. For this, God sent us an Angel.

No kidding. His name is Angel. He’s tough, capable, funny, family-focused, ready to answer any question, and about a foot shorter than I am. I decided we would be friends as soon as I saw him. Seriously! I mean, God sent me an Angel to take care of something I don’t need to handle on my own right now.

My brain goes straight into overdrive on this one and reminds me of this verse:

“For an angel went down at a certain time into the pool [of Bethesda and] stirred up the water; then whoever stepped in first, after the stirring of the water, was made well of whatever disease he had.” 

John 5:4

I’ve always been independent–stubbornly and excessively so! Knowing that didn’t change the behavior. In fact, it became a point of pride. That independent capability has been helpful more often than not, I think, but I’m aware that it hasn’t served me so well in every single instance. It’s also kept me somewhat isolated and in my own comfort zone, keeping others at a distance and at times, perhaps, making them feel undervalued. That’s NOT something I’m proud of, so I’m working on that these days. I’m trying to shed some things that might need to go and, in the process, preparing for whatever assignment God chooses to bring in this new location.

Yes, I could learn and do the pool this season, but I’m choosing to let our Angel “stir the waters” as a gentle way of helping myself to heal from the “disease” of prideful independence that shuts others out just so I can do everything on my own and have it done “my way” and on my schedule.

That’s what it boils down to, isn’t it? The desire to have it “my way” means others can’t use their gifts to help me. Insisting on my timeline doesn’t leave a lot of room for collaboration. Obviously, there’s more than some pool water that needs some stirring up and cleaning around here…and, just for the fun of it all, God sent us an Angel.

What changes are needed where you are? (And, if God sends you an Angel to help make them possible, make sure you let them help, ok?)

Grace and Peace!