I am struck by the fact that at this point in my life it all comes down to that. I have found the right place to live, the right friends, family nearby, the right church (and when I say ‘right’ I mean only that it feels right for me), all contributing to what feels like a very happy life.

The right work is the last piece of the puzzle that needs to be in place.

I have moved increasingly closer as I have tried some things and,  much like Goldilocks, found some too much or too little….either in amount of time spent for money earned, or in the way they made my life feel balanced and content….or not.

It is a puzzlement, that it is not all one thing or another, but so many things that make up the right amount of work. I know I am getting closer, merely by the way I am able to look at it without fear, without desperation, but with admiration for the person I am assisting in this search…

She is someone I have come to admire a great deal through this process.

I was very aware this week that a family situation was incredibly emotionally complicated. I was not completely on the outside, but not on the inside of it either. Trying to remain outside of it felt helpless, because the people involved all meant a great deal to me and I wanted very much for there to be breakthroughs that would result in new found freedoms enabling all to move forward in their lives.

This also required some meeting of the minds, with respect to the reality of the situation. Coming from a long line of dysfunctional family coping mechanisms, this had the added concern of triggering any number of knee jerk reactions, all of which could draw attention away from the situation at the forefront.

My mind became focused on what I could do that would be helpful but not add any additional drama to the problem. As much as I was concerned, I had not been asked in anyway for input or advice, so staying on the periphery seemed the best place to remain. I found that the only effort I needed to exert was one to keep my thoughts continually turned to prayer. Whenever I had the urge to get involved, I instead turned it into a request for God to get involved. As a result, I found that there was no mess to clean up, nothing was said  that needed to be apologized for or retracted, and truly the best possible outcome came about with the least amount of angst and anxiety.

When in doubt as to what you can do…pray. Not as simple to do as it sounds. It is definitely not the easy way out. Yet it remains the shortest and cleanest answer to “How can I help?” and it truly keeps the drama at bay. In many of our recovering dysfunctional family scenarios, though it may be highly underrated, to pray  is truly the most valuable way to make a difference.

I have noticed that I have stopped posting in this journal ever since life became somewhat easier and a lot happier for me. My huge move out to the West Coast, followed by the birth of my granddaughter, and the ease with which I fit into my new community, all made me somewhat lax in writing about my journey. Prior to my move, life seemed full of challenges to my mind and spirit, and I enjoyed writing through them and documenting my progress.

After the move, though by anyone’s estimation there have still been challenges, I have felt so blessed in the midst of them I neglected to put pen to paper. Interesting. I wonder why? I think partly because I thought I was writing merely for myself. I have heard from several friends how they have missed my posts and look forward to my return. That surprised me. I really had to think why writing about good things was so much more difficult than writing about obstacles to good things. Actually, I am not where I want to be, even though I am closer than before. It all comes from working toward it…to be healthier in mind, spirit and body is a daily, conscious decision to keep going, progressing toward the next level of insight into my life and into living it completely and faithfully. Perhaps writing helps me to keep that commitment and not writing allows me to slack off a bit. I guess we will see as I commit to writing as I continue moving forward on this journey.

OK, it wouldn’t be that difficult to sit in the car long enough to pull out the directions and change my clock to Daylight Savings Time, would it? However, I do seem to forget to do it. At first I only notice that it has been a week or so, and make a mental note that I really should change it to the right time. After a month or so has gone by, I find I am making the mental adjustment rather quickly, and it seems almost funny to me to think about changing it. Soon after that, I realize in two months it will be back on track, so why not just wait until then?

Is that the way lots of us use first little excuses, then much bigger and more ridiculous ones, to cover up what is essentially laziness? Do we get used to taping something that is broken instead of taking the time to glue or fix it properly?

I just was thinking about that today as I noticed my clock was now giving me the correct time. The problem is that now I have gotten so competent at deducting an hour from the shown time, I am having a difficult time trusting that it is now truly correct. Could be that if we wait too long to change a habit that others have been asking us to change, they may have trouble trusting us as well? It is probably a lot smarter just to suck it up and change the thing as soon as we know it is out of whack, no?

It has been noted in our church recently how uncomfortable some people are with lifting their hands in worship, even though so many of our wonderful worship songs mention lifting holy hands. We have had two different services addressing worship and basically allowing that enthusiasm is appropriate in church and not an emotion of which to be ashamed.

I remember being often particularly moved by sermons in church or by the worship preceding it. I never really drew any parallel to whether one preceded the other. It may well be true that it did.

One pastor noted how his granddaughter holds her hands up when she wants her papa to pick her up and hold her in the comfort and security of his arms. It is difficult to resist that gesture, indeed. I thought also of how, when I hold up my arms to the Lord in worship, I am in the first moment very sure that everyone is looking at me. In the next moment however, I am confident that the Lord is looking at me, and everyone else disappears, at least from my awareness.

I am at that moment creating a kind of funnel of love. I block out anyone on either side of me and focus completely on what, or who, is above me. I feel as though in that moment God does draw me closer to Himself and lift me up, as I seem to be requesting. It conveys something very personal between us and even though I have to overcome my own fear of looking stupid, I am never rejected when I ask to be held. It does open my heart to whatever comes next in the service, and while I know that this is not a condition of hearing what He has for me in the message, it certainly does make my ears more receptive. One is usually willing to hear even something difficult from someone  who loves them.

Everyday as I walk Gypsy to the ocean, both morning and evening, I pass a place where there is the most beautiful aroma. Where I notice it most is, oddly enough, right in front of a commercial garbage bin in front of some beautiful condos overlooking the Pacific.

I have walked down that same street twice a day for almost three months and never failed to detect the hint of it. I have brought a friend down who couldn’t smell it at all. I keep meaning to bring another friend, but actually, I really don’t care if anyone confirms it. I have gone to the nurseries in town and tried to locate a plant that gave off such a sweet fragrance (without my touching the leaves) but have come up short. No one knows of anything that would be sweet, not bitter, and yet give off the scent I am describing to them.

I merely thought it would be nice to plant under my bedroom window, where the smell of dog urine has occasionally wafted in unexpectedly during the night. I love that smell that I cannot replicate! Perhaps there is a good reason for that. It really encourages me to take that walk every day, and that is good for my health and my dog. It also inspires me to think deeper about the things of God.

He says in 2 Cor 14-16 that …”we are to God the aroma of Christ”….spreading everywhere the fragrance of the knowledge of him. The fragrance of life. Can it be bottled and sold? No. Can I replicate that perfume I smell? Perhaps not.

Someone said it was probably a laundry sheet. Not at the times and days I pass by, it is too consistently the same. And it is a mix, smelling to the best of my ability to detect, rosemary, mint, and perhaps a third herb, but nothing bitter or too sweet. There is no sign of any of these plants growing anywhere on the street.

I have a new grandchild who, without any effort on her part,  summons up memories of my own children at the tender early stages of their lives. I remember the smell of them being so amazingly sweet. The back of their necks particularly held their fragrance as they got a little older. Not only did I love being in their presence, but I adored the aroma that was uniquely theirs.

I believe we are indeed a fragrance to God, and that He adores the aroma of us. Everyday I am reminded in the most uplifting way that where I expect to smell the scent of garbage, I am completely caught off guard by this wonderful scent. It is a lesson I hope that I do not forget, even if the aroma should disappear. Where else in my life might I be seeing garbage that may well be an amazing fragrance to God?

I have just spent the past two months settling into my new life in California, doing all the things that accompany a big move: opening checking account, getting car registered, finding a church family,  finding a new job, etc., and not necessarily in that order. All in all a terrific way to get my bearings where I now live as well as giving me time to think about where I am at this stage of my life.

I had the very good fortune of attending a women’s retreat with my church this past weekend. There could be no better way of feeling connected in a new place than there was for me in meeting women with whom I already had so much in common. This is a church of truly faith-based believers, and I was overwhelmed by the depth of their sharing and their vulnerabilities. I was even more impressed with the depth and breadth of the heart of our God who met us there!

As I enter a new stage of my almost thirty year journey with Him, I realize the labels I have been wearing have changed. I no longer feel the need to identify myself as a “single parent,”  for instance. That has left the field wide open for God to give me a new assignment and perhaps a new calling. I have passionately defended and supported single parents for over thirty years, and always have and always will empathize with the difficulties they face. My walk with the Lord, however, has shown me that those circumstances are truly no more or less difficult than those  all women face, many with additional challenges involving a husband that can often make things considerably more difficult.

I have processed many things in this walk so far, just trying to stay afloat. Now I see that while there are certainly Selah’s (pauses where we can reflect and take stock of what has been said) in our journeys, there isn’t an end where we get to stay safe and secure and retire. If that happens we can consider ourselves stuck. God always has more in store for us, and my faith tells me that I had better make sure I get growing or He will certainly allow me some uncomfortable circumstances to help convince me to press forward.

So I instead choose to step forward, continually putting myself out where things happen and where God can continue to teach, love and support my growth. While this rest felt very nice for a short time, I recognize the best with God often comes in the hardest trials. So I need to keep risking and keep moving toward the prize, even when I can’t see it and may not even know what it is. It is, like any relationship, a sense of even more intimacy and love than I could ever have imagined, and that continues to expand beyond what I think is possible. Being blown away by His continued healing, loving presence in my life has always been the most incredible gift at the other side of a difficult time.  How exciting to look back at my journey, knowing He will continue to reveal His plan to me and light the way there, as well as continue to walk alongside me! How awesome is that!

Yesterday was a miracle day. It was the fifth anniversary of my oldest son’s marriage to the love of his life. That’s when the new love in our family began to spill over into my life in a big way. It was when I realized a part of me was a California girl at heart. Every trip to see my son and his wife in California let more friends into my circle there and widened my extended family.

A month ago I completed my move to the southern California city of San Clemente. It felt as though it was home immediately, and every day I have added new friends to my circle here. People were easy to meet and talk to. They seemed to go out of their way to make me feel comfortable. My dog was as content and happy as I was, and our daily walks to the Pacific Ocean were a source of confirmation, that I had made the right move.

But yesterday the reasons multiplied. My first grandchild was born to my son and his wife. I was there in the waiting room with her family for over eight hours. I think there are paths in the heart that cannot be erased after they have been traveled, nor can you ever turn around and go back to how you were before. Having a child is one of them. Watching your child have a child is another.

The experience was breathtaking, in the way that seeing the Grand Canyon only a month before with my youngest son was breathtaking. The difference was they get to take this little one home with them and continue the breathtaking forever. And I get to be part of her life until the day I die. I told my son it is like seeing your heart walking around outside your body and yesterday he said he now understands how that feels. Like the splitting of cells, your heart is split open and then multiplies, and more and more hearts burst open with love, and the wave of wonder and awe at this tiny miracle who comes into our lives and truly changes the landscape forever is bigger than one can imagine, until it happens to you.

I was reading yet another wonderful message sent by one friend to another, asking to send it on to ten more friends and back to the one who sent it. This one happened to be a breast cancer awareness focus, and many of the positive messages were great. The sadness for me was I can remember it being circulated to me at least four different times over the years, and the friends to whom it would be sent remain pretty much the same.

What I mean by that is they will read these motivational sayings, give it a “right on!” and then forward it to the same friends they forwarded it to last year and the year before. I don’t know of any friends who have radically changed either their lives or their attitude about their lives. Most of them still  struggle with the same fears and negativity that has been holding them back for most of their adult lives. Most of their fears could be started with the question “What if…..” followed by something that might happen if they were to make a specific change. My question is, what if they replaced the possible negative outcome with a positive outcome. What if they changed jobs and/or made more money and were happier than ever before? What if they changed jobs and made less money and were happier than ever before? What if the money did appear for them to have their dream, but from a source that would not be revealed until they took the first step forward in faith? What if their life got better, happier, more engaged? Why do we never hear these “what if’s” with a good ending, only the feared worst case scenario?

I am feeling very separated from these well meant internet uppers right now. I feel as though if you are going to grab hold and do something positive, it is time to do it! We aren’t getting any younger or any more up to the task by waiting. What is holding you back and what if you changed the outcome to a fabulous one; would you still find a reason not to move toward it? What example are you showing your friends, your family? Could you be the person with a light who could show them the way out of the trappings of their lives?

Things have changed around you. The economy has changed. What if you embraced these changes with enthusiasm instead of fear and let that energy propel you to make a change you want to make? Perhaps your spouse wants to make a change and your fears are holding them back. What if that change held the key to the secure future or happy life you want? All I’m saying is, one result is just as probable as the other. By continually listing the fear, we make that the guiding force in our lives. Challenge it. See it if it is the only possibility. Say to yourself every day for a week the exact opposite outcome as the end of your ‘what if’ question and see how that makes you feel. What if I could have the life I always wanted, but I was too afraid to give up the one I knew? Now there’s a “what if” that should really make you stop and think.

What I hope to get back is the story of a friend who started living the motivational messages they formerly just forwarded to me, complete with her own version of being engaged in her own life in a new and positive way, making a change she has always wanted to make, and going full out toward the person she was uniquely created to be. Now that would be a reason to write my friends and celebrate!

How would we handle our lives if we truly perceived them as not being stressful? I have really been chewing on this for the past few weeks, as I am readjusting to my new life. I am on a three-hour different time clock,  and I have let go of all my attachments; to things, furniture, houses, ways of making a living and ways of volunteering and connecting to people. That has left me with pretty much a clean slate upon which to choose what I want my life to look and feel like from now on.

What I noticed immediately was the difference between me and my family and friends whose days were caught up with keeping up with everything already on their plates. I recognized just how difficult it is for anyone to get any perspective on what needs to go, when staying ahead of crisis seems to be an all consuming job. Even though someone, perhaps a counselor or physician, may alert them to the fact that they have to rid themselves of some stressors, getting time to do that in their stressed-out environment is impossible. Making that time seems to only cause pure panic that everything will swamp them. It’s the story of the guy spinning ten plates in the air. If he stops focusing one may drop. If he doesn’t stop focusing he may go nuts from the pressure and they may all fall on his head. What is the solution here?

Some of us may have noticed a friend, suddenly stricken by an accident or illness, having to totally rearrange their priorities and though the immediate reaction is how will all the things they have been handling get covered, we soon observe that a peace has come over them that we never saw before. Often they have just, finally, had to put their health and their families first on their agenda, to the exclusion of everything and everyone else. It is amazing that we love them none the less for this decision, because we know it is the only way they will survive to remain in our lives. Why is it that we can’t see this until disaster befalls us? Why can’t we make similar decisions before we are forced to, when it really is in our best interest?

I have come to see, over the past four years, that everything bad that happens does have a silver lining, if we are willing to look for it. Every loss is indeed a gain, for God if for no one else, as we most often turn our attention fully to Him only when we run out of other options. He is capable of making all things new and using everything for our best. Total trust in that is the only fact we have trouble acknowledging. Why do we cling to our stress? Is anyone really making us, or does it just confirm some absurd reason for being here that we seem to have to be needed? We are needed, but often not for the reasons we think. I have been examining that for the past month, and found I have had little reason to blog when I was so happy and so stress free. What does that say about our need to constantly communicate our stress with others?

Hmmmm. I am still pondering all this in my heart. I hope to have more insight in the future. Until then, it is good to be back on my gypsy-like home page, back keeping in touch with life, love, and faith.