Sometimes it occurs to me that I process ideas and new behaviors in a hit and run method. Right now I am really trying to add some new habits to my daily routine. I am trying to begin a certain regime of vitamins, to see if my energy and arthritis symptoms improve significantly.

I have also started to breathe more deeply, having noticed that I probably use only half my available lung capacity with my shallow breathing, and that being the case, I am probably robbing my cells of the oxygen they need to stay really healthy. It is not easy to change the way you breathe. It is something on which I have to concentrate, and I can feel the place halfway there where I am tempted to stop and the block I have to press through every time to do it differently than what comes naturally. Let’s face it, I have been breathing poorly for most of my life!

What I mean by hit and run is that I have definitely had these urges to change behaviors in the past. I think of them, ponder them for a day or to, perhaps start a plan to incorporate them, but then I move to something else that distracts me from my purpose and I basically give up trying to notice if there was any difference or a way to measure it. I call that a lack of discipline on my part, but in order to change it I am finding it necessary to come at the problem from another direction.

Having 90 days to bring about a move across the country and finish up my business on this coast has given me an opportunity to put some new behaviors into place as I try to structure my departure. I am finding  mental clarity is really necessary to keep me on track, defining priorities for each day, week and month. Finding a way to discipline myself is a continual challenge, and while I have not found a total solution, I am trying to adapt what I already know about myself and work with that. I will keep you posted as I try not to run but rather to stick around until I find a way to get better performance out of my mind and body!

And what does this have to do with my day? I was watching an interview this morning with a man who studies them in the wild, and who is doing a documentary about them over the past seven years . At the moment there is only speculation as to why Knute died in the Berlin Zoo yesterday, at the young age of just four.

This man said that while he was not a vet and did not know for sure, that perhaps the animal had a seizure of some sort, but the habits and challenges of a polar bear in the wild can not be replicated in a zoo. Polar bears are by far one of the most intelligent predators he has ever studied. Mainly because they have to live in a constantly changing landscape of ice flows, they train themselves to catch their prey in three dimensions. They stalk under water, above water, and by jumping from one chunk of ice to another. They are extremely good at challenging the elements in their way, and of figuring out ways to get to their food. It is never simple, nor is it ever the same.

This made me think of what I was trying to say in yesterday’s blog.  I never think of myself as extremely intelligent, though I recognize that I have a way of thinking about problems that some of my more degreed family members never seem to grasp. It has continually amazed me at how one dimensionally a person trained in absorbing only what has been written seems to think and process what is happening in the present.

I, on the other hand, seem to process what happens as it is happening, without all prior knowledge to get in my way. I notice how people actually behave and operate in situations and how their emotions affect their circumstances, as well as how their circumstances affect their emotions, and then how that leads them to be able to change those circumstances or not. For someone who thinks life is already figured out and there is a right and wrong way to go about it, this is way off the mark and easily discounted.

For years I let that view of (my)life make me feel inferior. The longer I live, however, the more I notice that these skills of observation actually give me a feeling of confidence and lack of worry that the thinkers don’t have. My faith overrides their worry. It can’t be explained by mere principles, it just is. There will be no degree conferred from this knowledge, but it seems worthy of one, none the less.

The polar bear may have died from lack of both stimulation and lack of challenges for his intelligence. He needed to keep figuring things out with his mind, and in his caged environment the days were pretty much the same, one after another. This affected his mental state, which could very much have affected his physical state. When I said yesterday that I seemed to need challenges to prevent a slow death, I was grasping for that same piece of information. Some people, and some animals, will never be content with the status quo. They will continually see things that could be improved and try to make a difference. They need the juxtaposition of ideas and circumstances to give them an ever different perspective.

They need a continually changing landscape to their life. That certainly makes the twenty-some moves of my adult life make a bit more sense now, doesn’t it? Or perhaps they need people around them who constantly challenge their way of thinking and doing things, not ones who choose the comfort of doing them a certain way once and for all. That is why I feel like a rebel in some situations, though I know I am a peace maker at heart. The status quo,  in and of itself, will always challenge me to improve upon it, and I may always butt heads with those who are comfortable with it just the way it is.

I had been speaking with a friend on the phone and she was remarking about my story and how I continually made lemonade out of lemons, so to speak.

In response I told her it was actually not the challenges, but the lack of challenges that sometimes made me ready to give up in life. I seemed to do better with the crises than I did without them. They drew something out of me, an energy, a hope and faith that propelled me to figure out a solution.

My life may at times have looked like a disaster to others, but the challenges that have presented themselves have definitely given me the courage to take on new ones. I look back and see how God has used them all for my good, even when that seemed incredible and impossible. There are a couple challenges right now that I will be interested in looking back at to see how that happens yet again. As it is now, the losses of the past two years have put me in the enviable position of having as little baggage as at any point in my life to make a significant move, so it’s all good.

Only when we look back can we ever see God’s hand in our lives in the things that confuse us. Many of my entries over the past two years have been filled with uncertainty about where I was going and why so much seemed to be changing for me. All the things that previously seemed like losses become freedom in the circumstances I am in beginning to create today.

As I look at making a major move across the country, I am thrilled that I don’t have a home to sell, thanks to last year’s bankruptcy. I do not have a thriving real estate business to leave, courtesy of our present economy. I have become used to living without my furniture, thanks to a friend with whom I moved in temporarily. All the things that seemed so difficult to understand now have an entirely new framework within which to observe them and make new decisions. How light and free I am, now that everything is down to the basics!

What I learned in all of the paring down of the past few years is that I am a relational person. My relationship with God is foremost, then my relationships with family and friends and all the other wonderful connections that have crossed my path. Knowing this has made it really easy to make a choice to move. Not having a husband, particularly one with a job, meant I did not have to get permission or agreement, or impose my needs on anyone else. The things that made me feel lonely and single became the gifts that allowed me to follow my heart. How could I have known this when I was in the midst of despair or depression? Only by faith.

Hopefully when I read backwards in this blog, or better yet start from the beginning and read forward, I will see evidence of that faith as I went from one crisis to another, putting the pieces together as best I could, knowing God’s grace was always with me. I know I was often in a downward spiral, but I also know that He helped me to keep my head above water when I kept my eyes fixed on Him and His promises to me. I have never been disappointed with the journey we have been on together, and now it is time to move on to the next place and see what He has for me to do there. Having been taken to Berlin in 1987, seemingly to learn to pray deeply with a huge group of women brought there for the same reason, I am excited. We prayed for the wall to come down, believing in what seemed at the time impossible. Two years later, it did. With the idea of earthquakes and fault lines and radiation fears all over our West Coast, I can imagine that He needs more people of faith out there praying. If so, that is OK with me. There are many kinds of missionaries in this world. Perhaps someone’s fears will open an affordable home opportunity for me!

I am one who never seems to be under the covering of any particular church or ministry, yet I know I am under the cover of the Holy Spirit continually, and so I will go where  I am called and see what is needed there. It is always exciting when God changes our course and direction. His plan is always better than the one I might have made without Him. I hope to keep posting as I take one step at a time following the map as it is laid before me. I have to admit, a part of me thinks I should start a blog called “How to downsize your life to what fits in a car and move across the country in 90 days!” I had better google that, as undoubtedly someone has already written one that I can follow!

The biggest part, as in all things, is keeping my faith way ahead of my fear, knowing the enemy will try to keep me from going where God is leading. Having a prior track record of similar journeys is a big help when it comes to that. We have done this together before, and God is in my driver’s seat!

OK. Everyone has been asking where I have been. Why haven’t I blogged since Feb 14th? No I didn’t get depressed on Valentine’s Day. I was sick for the better part of February and tired as can be. I was unable to blog because I felt like I was in some kind of time warp:  I couldn’t seem to go forward and I wasn’t going backward, but I was just getting a feel for where I was right here and right now.

That said, I had bought tickets to see my son and daughter-in-love in Los Angeles, and I was just hoping to be well enough to make that trip. The time came in early March and off I went on American Airlines! It was a magical trip from beginning to end. The kids picked me up at the airport and then began to give me the visuals to complete my picture of their life together out there. We lunched at Joan’s on Third, a very posh but cottage-y place that was absolutely scrumptious! We drove around looking at all the homes they could never afford but enjoyed the view  anyway. We had a wonderful dinner in their apartment and got up the next morning to go on a  hike in a canyon with breathtaking views of the city and skyline. We brunched at a neat place called Urth, and ate near the sidewalk enjoying the air and the sun and the people.

In the afternoon we drove to Nora’s parent’s home in beautiful Santa Barbara, and began the makings of an evening meal together. Somewhere around cocktails, my son and his wife disappeared for a moment, only to reappear to three parents, fittingly lined up on the couch facing them, to announce and video our reactions to the news that they were four months pregnant! You can hear my squeals of delight all over the video. What an incredible event, not the least of which was how they had kept it a secret until this moment!

The story goes on with more adventures back to LA and then off to see friends in the South near San Clemente.  I took the most exquisite train ride from LA to their home, tracing the ocean as we quietly rolled along.  Somewhere around San Juan Capistrano (where the swallows come back) I began to film the view from my window, saying softly to myself…. I could live here, I could be happy here. After quickly touring her home, my friend drove me right back for lunch to the place I had been filming….she had planned to take me there all along. Needlesstosay, there were more friends, more food, more sunlight and colors and ocean views to take in, all breathtaking. But somewhere upon awaking to the sound of birds and the breeze that is California’s hum through my window the next morning God whispered in my ear….Are you willing to be totally healed? Are you willing to be totally happy? I thought for only a second before answering a resounding YES!

From there it will all become history soon. I came home to start packing and selling off everything that I have held tight to in the past years. Furniture and dishes and fabric and books….It is wonderful to know I don’t need them any longer. I am off for the adventure I have always secretly sought, a place where I have found my people and that feels like home! I don’t need anything but whatever fits in my car with my can’t-wait-to-see-California companion, Gypsy, and a brand new beginning on my 65th birthday this June.

God sometimes asks our permission to make great changes in our lives. He is totally able, but He wants our cooperation in the great things He has in store for us. I have been getting ready for this all year, although I didn’t know it. When it seemed I was losing everything, I was just re-prioritizing what was really important to me. I was pulling out weeds in my heart making the soil ready, with the oil of Gilead, for a new and beautiful garden that He would help me plant. My coming Grandchild is the reason to set the date, but for five years I have known there was a pull toward that place. Now I  am ready to rightfully  claim it for myself.

All I can say is, I am ready to receive what He has been saving for me, and I can’t wait to go where it already feels like home.

When is the last time someone said to you “Do you want the good news first or the bad news?” For me it was two days ago. At the time I didn’t think much of it, but as I was gathering thoughts about our Bible study the other day, it really struck me.

Are you someone who wants the good news first or last? I thought I would say, bad news first, but truly I want the good news first. It is the good news that often provides the cushion for me to be able to receive the bad news. It gives me a framework that already has acknowledged that there is lots of good going on all the time. The bit of bad news can be dealt with in that atmosphere so much more easily than in a negative cloud of doom and gloom.

As we think about reaching out to those that the Lord puts in our path, to express His love and compassion for them, how often do we think about letting them rest in the good news first? Do we make sure that they are totally secure in the feeling that God loves them and more than that, through His love of us, we love them too? Is it palpable and real for them? Only if it is, are we in a position of  making a real and significant difference in someone else’s life.

I read once that it takes ten compliments to reverse the hurt of one criticism. I was raised by a dad who had trouble withholding  criticism, and an even harder time expressing his love verbally, even though it was never in doubt. It made it difficult for me to believe that God wasn’t a punisher first, a rewarder later. The fact that He gives you the big reward first, before we have really done anything to deserve it, has always been astounding to me. It has always been easier to accept God’s discipline and conviction, grounded as it is in the love I know He has for me.

Reward, then punishment. Even then, He is usually gentle and kind when He convicts us in our hearts, and His punishment is never as severe as we might have thought appropriate. Most Christians really get that, particularly if they came to him through the pain of loss, addiction, or infirmity. I believe we are called to love in the way that He loves us, and as far as I can see, the Good News is always offered to us before the bad news. Some of us may have rejected it the first, second, or third time it was offered. Or we may have shot the messenger! Chances are, looking back, we can find many places where He came to us bearing the good before He ever asked us to handle the bad.

It is a challenge every day to offer His good love, instead of condemnation, to those around us. To me that is the cross I pick up every day.

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God must be showing me all kinds of ways we run from His guidance, as the next wonderful Christian friends He let me observe were some that I often go to for good counsel. As I soon realized, we all have our exceptions where we really don’t ask for God’s help, thank you very much.

In a situation where there were incredible ways to save money by choosing materials, free qualified labor offered, and tools that could be borrowed or rented, I was amazed at how quickly this one friend ran to purchase their own new ones. It was almost as if waiting for a single day would cause a rethinking, which would not allow for them to do what they wanted. The rationale was so obvious to others, but clearly sufficed to the person wanting to believe it.

I am now aware of how this same behavior must have looked to my father, when I hurriedly pushed to do something or spend something where there may have been many finer and cheaper alternatives. And by that same reasoning how it must look to God, who promises to provide us with everything we need. That is why I think parents who practice a reserved attitude about purchasing anything set a good example for their children. Their children learn at an early age to practice patience and waiting on God. They also learn that God has amazing ways of providing for our needs, and we never get to see that if we always jump in right away to provide for our own.

To my great dismay, I am very guilty of the same behavior on many occasions. I will override my own decision to wait for something, or to pray to see if it is something that I really need. I think it is only after my recent move, now finding myself surrounded by masses of stuff that has no real value in my life, that I have begun to question what comes in to the house. Truly for everything that comes in, at least four things should go out to someone who needs them, or who at least thinks they do!

Why is it so much easier to spot our bad behaviors when they are being sported by someone else? I guess that is why God wants us in community and fellowship with one another; how else would we ever grow if we only saw ourselves all the time? I got so weary watching that behavior I had to leave, but I wonder when I will get so sick of it in myself that I actually start giving my stuff away? Hopefully very soon. Just thinking about living in a 100 sq ft space this past weekend made me realize how little could go with me. Now, to pare down to that!

When I had some emergency surgery recently, I was told to go home and fill my pain medication prescription, keep the Tylenol and Aleve handy, and most of all to “try and stay ahead of the pain.”

I wasn’t quite sure what the doctor meant by that, but I was grateful to see they had prescribed only about ten pills (I only took two the whole time, and cut even those in half) instead of the full bottle they used to charge you for. Mine mostly went down the toilet, so I usually vacillated between filling a prescription and just keeping it handy in case and until I was actually IN pain.

There was much to be said for this theory, however. Once you experience the pain, every nerve in your body seems to record it, so that it can play it back at the mere hint of it returning.  If, however, one stays ahead of the pain, taking the medication just prior to the previous dose wearing totally off, one never actually experiences the pain.

So this got me thinking. What if, when we saw pain approaching, and by this now I am referring to primarily emotional pain and heartache, we actually embraced it and went with it, instead of stoically trying to push it back? Like my young surfer previously, wouldn’t we be able to ride it out better if we tried to skirt out just ahead of it instead of being caught in the crash and foam and being thrown every which way?

I think there is a lesson in all that. If we truly trust God to bring us through every circumstance, no matter how potentially hazardous it may appear, isn’t He going to know how to ride the wave and stay ahead of the pain?

He is, and He will also probably be delighted we trusted Him enough to take that ride together!

I am reading a book ( Strong Women, Soft Hearts by Paula Rinehart) right now, and this morning a chapter about how we deal with pain struck me personally. She is a counselor of women, and has a lot of insight into the way our hearts work and particularly how God can mend them when we begin to close them down because of past hurts..

She referred to how we deal with emotional pain as riding a wave through the surf. Having one son who still thrills to the experience, and having often spent hours at the beach watching him take what appeared to me to be a scary ride through a high patch of water rising seemingly out of nowhere, I only now realize that may have provided me a model to deal with things that appeared suddenly threatening in my own life.

He waited, poised and expectant, for whatever might appear, sometimes sitting patiently on his board for what seemed like hours. When the wave appeared, he was ready, and faced the challenge with the security that he would turn this into a thrilling adventure. Indeed, he always came out on the other side with a look of triumph all over his face. Even when the wave got the better of him and toppled his board and threw him off, he looked as though he had learned something about how to tackle the next one.

As I look back on my lifetime of waves from out of nowhere, I am aware that what looks like and feels like overwhelming pain is often just a challenge to take a ride on an unknown vehicle. It appears from nowhere and often disappears into nowhere, but you have an opportunity to be beaten up by it, or to merge with it and see where it takes you. I am grateful for a relationship with my Creator that has helped me chose to ride the wave, rather than turn my back on it and hope I would survive the force of it hitting me square on.  I hope at the end of my life to have the same expression I so often saw on my son’s face at the end of that ride in the surf….Wow! I made it, and that was the most amazing and exhilarating adventure ever!

I am noticing that I have neglected my blog writing for over two weeks now, all due to taking a new full time job and the changes that has made to my daily life. I am again amazed at the people who manage to fit in family and shopping, back-to-school and dinner at home, let alone soccer, gymnastics etc! How I ever raised two boys alone I have yet to figure out, and at this time in my life I would be hard pressed to repeat it, let alone remember!

Anyway, I have confidence that those who are will be given the Grace to accomplish what they need to, as I always have been. Fortunately, His Grace is sufficient, and as I look back, that is all that I see.

Now, with that premise firmly in mind, it is time to tackle the work I have ahead of me. Job aside, I have a book to write and some women, perhaps some men as well, to encourage. I know one thing above and beyond all others. I am here to encourage single parents in their quest to raise their children and provide a safe and comfortable place to call home. Though that seems to have led me in different directions at different times, it is still the heart of my purpose here, and I never cease to feel the stirrings of passion when I see the need to give it voice!

Yesterday I saw a billboard on a local church saying, Single Moms Meeting Sunday 9AM. I was so heartened I screamed out loud “Yes!” How I would have loved to see that sign over the twenty years I was trying to find my way through the maze, within and without the church. Finally, there appears to be some notice of the need.

I also recognize, somewhat less exuberantly, the growing number of single mothers, and how “having a child with a boyfriend” has become such an accepted norm. In renting apartments, I am noticing one out of two families with children have parents who are not married. I am not sure why this is the case, but it does disturb me a bit, since they are obviously together. What has happened to our respect for marriage? Where did the commitment to the importance of that go? I say this having yesterday celebrated the fourth anniversary of my son and my daughter in law. Their wedding was one of the happiest days of my adult life, with all the hopes and promises a life lived together can hold. As their lives unfold, their commitment to be in it together is a celebration for all their friends and family, and our support for whatever they face is unfailing. It would seem a lot less committed if they were just boyfriend and girlfriend, our support almost tentatively offered, at best.

I am grateful to be able to be whole hearted in my love and support of their commitment to each other and to what lies ahead for them. It will never have to be half-hearted, which takes the stuffing out of it. Sometimes we all need that extra helping of stuffing!