Life Coaching: Love Those Who Disagree

I am not a big believer of writing open letters. They seldom do anything except promote agendas and make people feel somewhat “less than”. Or else they validate opinions, making us feel smug in our pseudo righteousness, which is the purpose of the writing to start with. I don’t think an open letter has ever changed a heart or rattled a mind. I do, however, think they’ve promoted hatred and discord among people who are supposed to be unified—Christians.

We all have a right to our opinions as American citizens. This I believe and this I will truly fight for. I will even fight for dissenting opinions, because that’s what truly makes American a great country. Not MAGA on a red hat. And not slapping a MAGA hat off someone’s head. This is not a political post and if you’re reading it like that, then please go back to the beginning and start over. I’m not advocating one party or another. I’m merely stating we have got to find a way to come together as American citizens of this great country or we are doomed—doomed to repeat history of past wrongs and injustices. When a young college quarterback gets death threats (and this just happened right here in my hometown), it shows how low we as a society, have descended. This is a college kid who basically knows nothing about life, and yet some cowards threaten his life just because our team has lost a few football games?!! Grow up, people. The last thing we need is another “open letter.” We need compassion. And we need it now.

So what do we do about it? We start by doing what the Bible tells us to do—love our neighbor. If we truly loved our neighbors, we wouldn’t have death threats, hat slapping, or open letters. We would have harmony, peace and most of all, respect. Respect for the opinions of others. Respect for positions of authority. Respect for this country. I realize respect is something that’s earned, but in order to get it, you first have to give it. This doesn’t mean I’m advocating being a doormat. Don’t do that. But can we all just take a step back before we hit that “send” button on that email? Or post that comment on Facebook or Instagram. Or forward that hate-filled meme. A moment of patience in a moment of anger saves us a hundred moments of regret.

I started this off today about open letters, because I think I’ve read my last one. It bothered me so much, I decided to kinda write my own “open letter” right here on this blog. It’s my blog after all, and if I want to write an open letter about writing open letters…well, who is gonna stop me? Maybe I should stop myself before I get in trouble here…

The big takeaway today is I’m asking everyone to be kind and respectful to others. Even those we don’t agree with have a voice. And as American citizens, they have a right to be heard. No matter how ridiculous we find someone’s rhetoric, we need to give them the opportunity to be heard. We don’t have to believe them, we don’t have to agree with them, and we really don’t even have to oblige them in any way. But to silence someone whose voice doesn’t sound like ours is to violate the premise of our founding fathers—all men are created equal with certain unalienable rights. It also violates Gods commandment of “love thy neighbor.” We have somehow gotten into our heads that loving someone equals total agreement. And it seldom does. Nor should it. The Bible tells us that as “iron sharpens iron, so does one man sharpen the countenance of his friend.” Iron is sharpened by friction against the whetstone, not slicing through butter.

In this Thanksgiving week, please take a moment to be thankful for your life. Be thankful for family and friends. Take a quiet moment to pray for those who don’t know Jesus. And take a few minutes to thank God for sending you that difficult friend—the one who challenges your thinking. The one who gets on your last nerve every now and again. The one who may irritate the living snot out of you, but one that you love with all your heart. God bless you! Happy Thanksgiving!

Life Coaching: Don’t Listen To The Naysayers

There are people we meet in this life who don’t want us to succeed. In fact, they’ll do everything in their power to stop success from coming your way. Why? Because they’re so miserable in their own lives, they can’t stand for anyone else to be happy. Does this sound familiar to anyone? Oftentimes, these Negative Nellie’s are in our own families, which makes it a little more difficult to avoid them. And if we have active social media accounts, there’s always THAT ONE…

I am here today to encourage you to not give up. Don’t give in. Don’t listen. If you have a vision God has placed on your heart, take it and move forward. Of course, you should get wise counsel about it. I’m not saying go blindly into the battle without preparation. But people who give said counsel should be people you trust. People who encourage you in the path God has placed before you. People who love you.

It’s been my observation that people who don’t want us to succeed are people who have no personal vision themselves, and they want to steal ours.. They don’t want to take the time, effort and prayer involved in birthing their own vision, so they criticize, grumble and undermine. Those people…don’t listen to ‘em…

My dear friends, God has placed eternity in the human heart. He has given each of us a journey—a path to walk, if you will. Along that path, He lights our way, one step at a time, guiding us through all manner of muck and mire. And here’s a little tidbit for you guys—God wants you to succeed! Think about it like this…as a parent, I’ve attended all sorts of school activities when my daughter was a kid, everything from open house to football games. Not once did I hope she would fall off the top of a cheerleader pyramid, or make an “F” on a school project. No, I wanted her to nail that landing and ace that test! What kind of parent would I be if I didn’t try to cheer her on and set her up for success in every way possible? A poor one, for sure!

God paves the way for us in ways we can’t possibly image and He wants is to succeed because it’s HIS plan. So today, if you’re following a God-given vision, and you’ve prayed about it, sought wise counsel about it, and made a good solid plan about it, don’t listen to the flying monkeys. They’re nothing but a distraction, trying to stop forward motion in your life. Take your plan, put on God’s armor, and let Him lead you forward into your future. Things may not always go as planned. In fact, it’s almost guaranteed they won’t, but with God leading you, you can and you will have joy and peace on your journey onward!

God bless!

Living Out Loud: Aging and Widowhood

I am not certain how much I really have to say. Ok, wait…that is absolutely NOT true…The truth is I have a LOT to say, but no one listens. I feel it’s due to several factors, but I only want to address two of them in today’s blog—age and widowhood.

Aging isn’t the easy, transitional phase it’s cracked up to be. It’s difficult, it’s often painful and it’s rough. When I look at the end of my sleeve and see my Mother’s hand, it’s still kind of a shock. I have to almost brace myself to even look at my feet because of my curly Dad-like toes. And when I look in the mirror and see one more sag in my Grandad’s turkey neck, well, let’s just throw in the towel and call the day complete.

I’m not sure where to even begin with widowhood. People automatically relegate us into a club, of “poor little thing” and don’t know what to do with us. It’s awkward, and I want to scream, “Look me in the face when your talking to me and treat me like you treat everyone else, why don’t ya!” I haven’t tested this, but I have a theory—if I said half of what I actually wanted to say to the awkward well-wishers, I would be banned from church as a pagan infidel and put in a padded room, where people would still look at me and say, “poor little thing.” It’s not that I’m above throwing down the widow card when dealing with…oh say Comcast. I feel I’m justified there because their consumer plans are designed to place you on hold for 20 minutes and sell you plans that you neither need nor want. I just that I want to be viewed as an entire whole, and not just one part. I hope this makes sense to someone else besides me. Fellow widows out there, can I get a witness?

As we age, we gain wisdom. We gain strength. We gain courage. It takes some grit and guts to look our aging selves in the face and slap that lipstick on every morning. It takes courage to unclog a drain or a toilet for the first time because that was the hubby’s job. It takes determination to LIVE. It takes perseverance to recover from loss. And it takes a great deal of God in the mix to pick up our spiritual weapons and soldier on.

We are not invisible. We are seen. We are heard. We are loved. We are embraced by the most powerful and loving force in the universe—Father God. He listens. He sees. He loves. And in the midst of the turmoil of aging and widowhood, He is never awkward. He understands loss. And he understands US!

I am writing this today without a shred of awkwardness, without a minutiae of shame or guilt. I am writing this because I have something to say. I have a voice to be heard and I am using my platform to speak. You have things to say as well. Use YOUR platform and do not be silenced! Do not let people shut you up or shut you down. Keep speaking. Keep pushing. You are not too old. You are not too young. You are not too widowed. You are not too single. You are not too married. You are just right and the world needs to hear YOUR voice. Speak. And let the glorious freedom begin…

Life Coaching: Belly Rubs and Fear

It’s 6:00 on a Saturday morning and I’m awake. This is day 4,562 of the continuing saga of sleeplessness at the Jackson house. If anyone has any ideas of how to consistently get a good, solid nights sleep without using medication, alcohol or essential oils, I’m all ears…I’m lying here on my couch, scratching my doggie’s belly with one hand and trying to type with the other. She’s content and happy, but it occurs to me that this act of belly scratching is never reciprocated. I mean, where is the love here? Maybe if I feed her enough treats, I can teach her to scratch MY belly. Mamma needs love, too…

The above paragraph has absolutely nothing to do with today’s blog. In fact, I don’t even know why I wrote that, other than to share the moment with you good folks. I am digressing and need to get to the topic at hand, which is FEAR. That’s right. I said it out loud: FEAR.

I have never considered myself to be especially fearful, except when it comes to snakes. But recently I’ve discovered that I am much more fearful about certain things than I care to admit. And here’s the thing…most of the time, we know what we’re afraid of. We know what makes our knees weak, our hearts turn to water and our minds race like a hamster in a wheel. That is a known fear. But it’s those unknown fears that insidiously creep up on us in the middle of the night and grip us by our throats we need to be wary of. Those fears are the ones that lurk unseen for years, then pounce like a panther stalking its prey. Those fears can paralyze us because we aren’t even aware they are operating in our lives.

Exposing fear is a tricky business. We first have to realize it’s there. Next, we have to seek truth instead of a lie, and then we have to deal with it. And just let me say right here and now that I hate dealing with it. I will let things lie until the cows come home because I am an emotional procrastinator. I don’t like to deal with negative emotions and fear is definitely a negative emotion. Sometimes I just want to swallow the blue pill and be plugged back into the Matrix. The Matrix is comforting. The Matrix is soothing. And the Matrix is a lie. And being the truth based little soul that I am, I eventually have to listen to truth and deal with the fear or writhe in spiritual misery. We cannot do this to ourselves, my friends.

When Trixie rolls over on her back to get those belly rubs, there is not one ounce of fear in that dog at that moment. She trusts her Mamma. She know she’s getting ready to receive something she absolutely craves and the attention and the divine elation of her Mamma’s touch. If we humans viewed God one-tenth the way our dogs viewed us, we would live much less fearful lives, knowing He was watching over us. I have not achieved this yet, but I want to.

Trixie has finally curled up beside me and is back asleep. No more belly rubs for now. I, too, am gonna curl up and try to get a few more hours of sleep. Despite the fact that we have fears that have yet to be revealed, we continue our quest for truth. We pioneer on, and when fear comes to our door, we shoot it in the face. With a cannon. 😉 My prayer for us today is that God would reveal areas where we have those secret fears lurking in our lives. Once He reveals them, we can walk in His glorious freedom and rest in those spiritual “belly rubs.” God bless!

Joy and Freedom Go Hand-In-Hand

I have recently been very out of sync with my blog writing. I have been busy, and I have been distracted by several things. I apologize.

I am going through a rather difficult season in my my life. I am not at liberty to say any more about it, but suffice it to say, it’s been rough. I have had conversations with God about it to the point He’s quite possibly ready to grab me up by the nape of my neck and shake me good. Not really, but I would shake myself if I could. I just tried that and it didn’t really work. I won’t be doing that again…now my neck hurts and my eye is twitching…

Jesus ensured the shame of the cross. Why? Hebrews 12 tell us it was “for the joy that was set before him.” There was no joy in the cross itself. The cross was something that had to be endured so He could move past that and get into the joyful redemption of mankind. He came to die so we could live. What becomes our joy became His sorrow. Heaven was mournful that day, but on the third day, Joy burst forth like the sun, never to set again. I am humbled by that, and so grateful that God has given me His life. Freely we have received, now it’s time for us to freely give.

I am feeling a little rambling today, but it is 4:30 in the morning, after all. I am too tired to sleep, but apparently not too tired to write this. My point today is simply this: We all lead busy lives. We run to and fro and get out of kilter often, simply because we’ve human and we’re prone to go our own way. We get shaken by life. We get battered and bruised. We get tired. But we endure, just as Jesus endured the shame of the cross. And eventually we find our way back to Joy. Because part of maintaining joy is knowing truth. And in that knowledge of truth is freedom. We may not like the truth sometimes, but we definitely like the freedom that comes with it. We may not like the truth that we’re…oh say, selfish. But we do like the fact that we can make a course correction and improve our lives. We may not like the truth that someone has been unfaithful to us, but we like the fact that deception was exposed for what it is. We may not like the truth that our bank account is dry, but we do like the fact that we can start from zero and build on that. There is freedom in truth, no matter how painful or how difficult. Because that first taste of freedom is the first step into a lifetime of joy.

May your joy be full today and may you walk in the blessed truth of Gods Word!

Life Coaching: In The Garden

I have somehow fallen into the YouTube world of doll making. I have become fascinated with watching sculptors create these life-like mini mannequins from a weird dystopian multiverse somewhere far, far away. I don’t know why. I just sorta landed on this one day, and now I can’t stop watching…I am mesmerized by the creation of these creepy little things. Their shiny eyes that seem to follow your every movement, their interchangeable wigs, their spindly bodies—all this adds up to one thing—They are waiting for the appropriate moment to take over the world. With knives. While we’re asleep…

Mankind’s fascination with both the ethereal and the fantastic has been around since Eden. We need look no further than Adam and Eve, two knuckleheads who had everything and traded it for a piece of fruit. I am convinced that we were never meant to have knowledge of good and evil. We were created to live in harmony with God Almighty and walk with Him during the cool of the evening. We were created to live peacefully, blissfully ignorant of the types of evils we see today. The serpent was skillful in its lies.

What does this have to do with doll making? On the surface, not much. Dig a little deeper, and there it is. Certain ones among us have incredible artistic ability to paint, draw, build, sculpt. It’s a God-given talent, just like the artisans who built the Ark of the Covenant and Solomon’s Temple. And those talented folks try to recreate the loveliness that once was Eden and the inhabitants therein, or depict the corruption of evil. I never realized how much doll making is an art form until I started watching these videos. Much goes into the making of a finely sculpted doll, whether it mimics Gods glorious creation of humanity or whether it mimics the devils twisted version of life. Both are compelling in different ways—one for the purity and one for the corruption. One for loss and one for redemption.

I didn’t even think about this at all before I sat down to write this. I just got fascinated by the sheer artistry of the crafting. It’s amazing. Mankind was kicked out of the garden, and we’ve been attempting to mimic the loveliness of good or ugliness of evil ever since. Angelic looking dolls, demonic looking dolls, baby dolls, Barbie dolls, Chucky dolls—they are all attempting to represent something—they are attempting to represent the artist’s perception of fantasy, the human body, anthropomorphism, or just plain beauty. We humans are a creative bunch, talent given by God, and that talent is used to enrich our lives and spark a longing for the unknown.

i suppose this is rather a lot to write about some harmless doll making videos, but sometimes my thoughts can go in directions that make no sense to anyone but me. I sincerely hope this isn’t the case today, and I hope you are blessed with the knowledge that we are created in the image of God Almighty. We have souls. We have spirits. We live in bodies. We were hijacked by the devil, but have been redeemed. For now, a new doll making video is coming on—how to give Barbie new hair by sewing on yarn. Odd, but I just have to watch…God bless you today, my friends!

Life Coaching: Life Is Like A Box Of Donuts

Last night, I did something I don’t do as often as I would like…I ate a donut from Krispy Kreme…It was Halloween. It was cold. And it was raining. I deserved the donut. And it wasn’t just any old donut…it was a green, lemon filled monster donut with a sugar candy eyeball on top. I had no idea a donut with green slime glaze and lemon creme filling could be so glorious. But, I digress, since this isn’t really about an ode to the world of donuts, although it may turn into just that if I write long enough.

The donut was an unexpected pleasure. I didn’t start the evening off looking for a donut, though I’m glad I found one. I didn’t know they had green monster lemon donuts, but I was glad they did. I didn’t know what the eyeball on top would taste like, but I’m glad I tried it. It was delightful and just a bit decadent, like I was eating a piece of Frankenstein. However, I was not deterred, but devoured the entire thing like a ravenous farm animal at the trough. This little piggy went to market.

Our lives are like that donut. I write a lot about the twists and turns of life, and mostly I write about how dark the journey can be sometimes. But today, belly full of monster donut, I am reminded that life equally takes pleasant turns as well. In the midst of a hectic week of insurance, video making, coaching, “wigging” and general chaos, there are lovely donuts, just waiting to be savored. That is our lives. Don’t miss those moments. And don’t let anyone steal them from you. They are precious, like a hidden jewel buried underground. Get out that metal detector and find them.

I want to challenge you today to find some golden moments in the coming weeks ahead…moments that you KNOW are God-breathed. Moments that give you pleasure for no apparent reason. Moments that take your breath away in their beauty. Moments spent with those you love and those who love you back. Those moments are what we live for and they keep us going during those dark, depressing times. Light dispels darkness, my friends. Both can’t occupy the same place in space and time. Walk in that God-given light and don’t look back.

God bless!

Life Coaching: Scars

I took a trip down memory lane today. It was not a happy trip. Sometimes those little mental breaks lead me in a direction into the past where I do not need to go.

Not every memory is a happy one. Some of us have scars—big ones. But what is a scar, after all? It’s merely what remains of a wound that’s healed. The key word in that last sentence is “healed.” Whether or not we allow those scars to define who we are, or assist us in developing a victim mentality is strictly up to us. Don’t get me wrong—some of us have survived that which did not kill us. I’m not sure if it made us stronger, or we were already strong, and therefore we survived. But, for whatever reason, we are here, proudly wearing our scars like medals of honor.

Here are a few questions to ponder today: What scars do you have? How have they shaped you into who you are today? Are they visible, or are they internal? How did you get them? How have they shaped and molded you into who you are today? Being totally transparent here today…because of something that happened to me at the hands of a narcissist, I feel an internal need to be heard and not ignored. When we are exposed to narcissistic behavior repeatedly, it leaves a scar. And it leaves baggage that must eventually be dealt with or else we devour ourselves from the inside out. It left me with knowing that I would never be silent again, and I would never be silenced again, by anyone, especially when it came to my hopes, dreams and aspirations. There is a downside to this way of thinking as well. In my zeal to be heard, I have to be careful to not harm others in the process. When our thought processes have been skewed by abuse, it’s easy, on the other side of it, to become that which we deplore—mean, vindictive, and obnoxious. I don’t wish to be any of those things. God has helped me to temper my feelings with love and grace. And mercy—mercy, most of all to myself, but mercy and forgiveness to others who wronged me. I am definitely NOT perfect, but that journey was a long one, and I have the internal scar to prove it.

Today’s blog took a turn I wasn’t expecting. But I think it took a necessary turn. If you’re struggling with your open wounds, let Jesus bandage them. Allow time to let them heal. Let Him pour His balm on them. And, one day, they will be scars—like the ones on His hands, feet and side. Healed in active service to the Father and for us. God bless! ! Maranatha!

Life Coaching: How We Treat Others

There is an ongoing controversy in the news about women teaching and preaching the gospel, specifically concerning John MacArthur and Beth Moore, two public figures with worldwide ministries. It’s been in the news this week and I can’t get it off my mind. The short version (in case you live in a cave and haven’t heard) John MacArthur and another dude were on some type of question/answer forum in front of a large group of men. The moderator decided to play a word association game and he gave John MacArthur two words, and asked him to give his reaction. The two words were “Beth Moore,” to which John MacArthur responded “Go home.” And the other dude on the panel called her a narcissist. They went on to compare her to a QVC host selling jewelry. And all the men in the audience laughed. Multiple times. This was recorded and now it’s all over the internet and YouTube. You can google it if you’d like. The encounter was less than 10 minutes long.

Here the thing…I don’t care one way or the other who is theologically correct on the issue of women preaching in church. There are a million different opinions and most are probably wrong. What I DO care about is manners and courtesy. I care about kindness. I care about love.. I care about the fruits of the Spirit being active in the lives of people who are my siblings in Christ. THAT’S what I care about.

Whether or not Beth Moore should be teaching to men, is, to me, irrelevant. The more immediate issue is how do we respond to our brothers and sisters with whom we disagree. I see nowhere in the Bible that we are to roast them on a public forum in order to get a few laughs from the audience. That isn’t right, nor does it promote unity. Proverbs 6 is very clear about things the Lord hates, and one of them is sowing discord among brothers. If I were John MacArthur, I’d “go home”…go home and repent for doing something God detests.

Beth Moore’s response on Twitter was very eloquent, very gracious and very kind. This isn’t the first time this woman has been attacked, and each time (as far as I’ve been able to find out), she’s always responded with gracious words and words that promote unity. That is the fruit of the Spirit in action. Whether a woman should teach men is really not the point. We can strain at a gnat and swallow a camel. Well, that camel chokes mightily on the way down, let me tell you. The point is can we just be kind to one another? You know what? I attend church with a diverse group of folks. We don’t always agree on every biblical point. And that’s ok. God can sort that out just fine without my help.

I feel, in this particular circumstance, this lady was sacrificed on the altar of Pharisee-ism and in the fire of entertainment. We don’t need to prove a point at the risk of injuring our brothers and sisters. We shouldn’t aim to kill when we fire our spiritual weapons at one another—and we don’t even need to point that spiritual gun In their direction. I am quite certain none of us are one hundred percent correct on our interpretation of the Scripture. We are all subject to error, even men and women who proclaim themselves to be authorities.

This was heavy on my heart. People smarter than me have already written about it, so it’s easy to find commentaries about it. I’m not gonna write any more. I’m just going to leave this here and you can ponder it today. Be kind to someone. Treat your brothers and sisters as you would want to be treated. God bless you! Maranatha!

Extend the hand of fellowship to your brother!

Life Coaching: Things Just Got Real

One of my all time favorite hymns is “It Is Well With My Soul.” This hymn perfectly captures the agony of life here on this earth, especially knowing the backstory of the man, Horatio Spafford, who wrote it. He lost his business in a fire, hisson died of pneumonia, and his four daughters were drowned when an ocean liner sank. His wife survived, and sent him a telegram that said, “Saved alone, what shall I do?” Mr. Spafford immediately booked a passage on the next available ship to go to his grieving wife. While aboard the ship, when they were about four days from his destination, the captain called Spafford into his cabin. “We are now over the place where your children went down,” he told Spafford.

According to Spafford’s daughter (one who was born after the tragedy), Spafford wrote “It Is Well With My Soul” while on that boat, grieving for his four daughters who had perished. That was in 1873, this song has been blessing people throughout the years since then. I cannot even imagine writing the words, “when sorrows like sea billows roll,” while looking out my cabin window at the place where my children had died. And I certainly can’t image writing “it is well with my soul” after such a tragedy. But, I have a feeling Mr. Spafford had a certainty in his heart about something—something we really don’t think much about today, and that certainty was that heaven is real. It was a certainty that he would see his young son and his precious daughters again, and he knew that as long as he trusted God, he could truly say, “It is well with my soul.”

Life is a smacker around of the people living it. Life hits us right between the eyes and shows us no mercy. It takes no prisoners, and it is relentless in it’s pursuit of us. My questions today are these: What are we allowing life to do to us? How are we handling those curve balls? Are we smacking them out of the park like Darryl Strawberry on a good day or are we getting hit in the head, or bit on the ear like Mike Tyson on a bad day? Do we believe heaven is real? How do we live our lives embracing the reality of heaven? How “real” do we believe heaven really is? These are not easy questions to answer.

If you’ve lost someone close to you (like a spouse or a child), then the reality of heaven just got up close and personal. We either embrace the fact that we’ll see our loved ones again, or we flee from God’s presence in anger because He took them from us. It’s dicey, and it could easily go either way. I have been there and the slope is a slippery one. If you’re there at that crossroads, let me encourage you in this…there is no place to run to escape the presence of God. The Psalmist writes, “If I go to heaven, You’re there. If I go to hell, You're there.” So, run though we might, it does us no good. We can’t escape the Hound of Heaven, as Francis Thompson so eloquently called Him. My advice: Don’t run. Be still right where you are and tell Him exactly how you feel. It’s ok. He’s heard it all before and He listens.

I did a short little video yesterday on this topic and I’m linking it below. Please take a moment to watch when you get a chance. God bless you! Maranatha!

Life Coaching: Life Is Like a Potholder

I am a serial potholder hoarder. My potholders are so old and stained, I am ashamed of them. And of course, I didn’t want to buy new ones because I’m cheap and no one really sees them except me. I don’t even bring them out when I have guests, ten thousand failed meals stained that they are. And I just keep piling them in my potholder basket I keep for such a purpose. And I not only keep my own old potholders, but Lord help you if you being a potholder to my house. You will never see it again, because they somehow find their way into my potholder dungeon.

I recently cleaned out my potholder bin, and when I saw just how many potholders I’d accumulated over the years, I was mortified. Pot holders with holes, potholders with gravy stains, potholders with the stuffing poking out, potholders that had never been used (because they were the “good ones, you see), and my personal favorite, seasonal potholders (yes, that is actually a thing). I couldn’t believe I’d accumulated that many of those things, and now my bin actually boasts a brand new phenomenon—clean, unused potholders. So, here’s my new dilemma…I don’t want to use them because I’m an iffy cook at best. At worse, I’m a Gordon Ramsey nightmare. I’m either brilliant or a dud—no in between, much like I live the rest of my life. I know there is an epic pot holder failure coming and it’s just a matter of time before I either catch one on fire (yes, I’ve done that) or drop it in the middle of my crock pot full of chili.

I started thinking about all my potholders today and the ones I’ve had over the years. Some are rough and well used, others brand new with nary a hint of grease on them. Our lives are like that. Sometimes we get a little beat up, broken or stained. Other days, we skate through like a piglet on ice. But those holes and burned places mean we were living life. Even though it may have knocked the stuffing out of us a time or two, we were right out there, face in the wind, rain pouring down on us, battered and bleeding, but by golly, we were still breathing. We were waiting and hoping for that turning point when our lives would take a turn for the better. And when we come to the end of our lives and it’s time for us to see Jesus face-to-face, all of those gravy stained, grease filled days will be at an end. And we’ll be like those shiny, new fully functional potholders. It means we have been exposed to the fire and we came though it, not unscathed, but useful and necessary parts of God’s plan.

I am so thankful for all my “potholder” friends! I love every single one of them! They’ve lived lives, they’ve helped others, they’ve LIVED! God bless! Maranatha! Carpe Diem.

These are two of my new potholders I just bought for fall!

Life Coaching: Why We Should Fear The Lord

“You shall walk after the Lord your God and fear Him, and keep His commandments and obey His voice; you shall serve Him and hold fast to Him.” Deuteronomy 13:4

I read this verse this morning in honor of Sukkot (Feast of Tabernacles). I figured I’d read an Old Testament verse from the Torah, since I was thinking about this Hebrew feast. For those of us who may be uninitiated in the feast days (I am one of the uninitiated, by the way), the Feast of Tabernacles is a harvest feast, and it’s a pilgrimage feast. Since I couldn’t actually go to Jerusalem, I settled for attempting to learn a little bit more about this feast week, and do the best I could to think about what it might mean to me in the upcoming year. The Israelites were actually commanded to go live in a tent for a week. I am not a good camper, so I just tried to focus on what can an American citizen do to honor God during the Feast of Tabernacles. I’m still not sure I know the answer to this, but I do know one thing: Once I got quiet and tried to listen, I believe God was trying to tell me something…and the something was this verse…

I don’t think we fear God enough. I think we’ve Americanized the Lord, homogenized Him into a neat little package we get out on Sunday like a holy Jack-in-the-box. Then, we gently place Him back in that neat little box and don’t think about Him much until the next occasion we have to attend church. This bothers me. The love of God is immeasurable. There is no end nor is there a beginning of His love for us. But, in our zeal for His love, do we fear Him? We have only one legitimate object of fear—God. We shouldn’t fear death, pain, sickness, snakes, spiders, heights, or anything else this world throws at us. Yet, we do fear these things, and don’t fear the Lord. Why is that? I think there are two main reasons (probably more, but for the sake of brevity, here are just two): 1) It’s easier to focus on love, grace and mercy, than it is fear. It’s easier for us humans to see God as a one-dimensional being who waits with open arms like some type of cosmic earth mother, rather than see Him as a loving Father who sometimes disciplines us. And we humans surely resist discipline like my dog, Trixie, resists the leash…We don’t like it. We don’t like it because we have to admit we are in the wrong, and we have to repent. And repentance isn’t fun. It’s changing our direction, changing our hearts, changing our minds. No one wants to do that because there’s pain involved in the process. Please don’t get me wrong—God is the ultimate lover of our souls! He loves us more than we could ever possibly imagine. He moved heaven and earth to make a way for us to be with Him forever. But, this same God also has the power to separate us from Him forever. THAT’S what we should fear…being away from His presence, spending our eternity without Him. That’s why quick repentance is absolutely necessary when we sin. Had enough? Well, wait…there’s one more, and I think you’ll like this one: 2) The devil makes sure to keep things in front of us that scare or make us fearful. Why? Because he knows these things have absolutely zero eternal consequences. Death is only death of the physical body. The soul lives on. Pain only lasts as long as the body lasts. One day the soul will be free. Sickness is the same way. Snakes—well, those things have to die sometime…And my theory for the snake thing is that Satan has tried to make us fearful of them because of the serpent in the Garden of Eden. When the serpent tempted Eve, he became an object of fear for mankind, when mankind should have been fearful of the One who put them out of the Garden! This is no different from what he’s always done—trying to usurp God’s authority and set himself up as an object of worship. I’ll have to admit, he did a pretty good job on that snake thing with me because i’m terrified of them. I run over them with my car when I can because I figure that’s one less snake to crawl in my back door when I’m not looking…

The point to this blog today is to simply ask this question: Do you fear the Lord? I know we have a tendency to view God as we view our earthly fathers, and sometimes that’s not a real good thing. Some of us had fathers that simply weren’t at all Christ-like, and they hurt us in unimaginable ways. So, rather than viewing God like an earthly father, view Him as perfect. What would our fathers have been like if they had been perfect? Their love would never run out. Their patience would always be there. Their mercy would always endure any hardship, and their grace would be abundant when we mess up (as we all do). A perfect father would warn us of calamity. He would give us a list of good, solid instructions on how to conduct ourselves to keep us from harm. He would set in place a set of consequences for willful disobedience. Why? Not because He likes to punish us, but because He knows what will happen if we are left unchecked.

This is simply my view on this wonderful week of the Feast of Tabernacles. I am hoping you will read this is the spirit in which it was intended. It was written to draw you closer to the One who made you—to make you see things from a little different perspective. That’s usually always a good thing…God bless you, and I love you all! Maranatha!

Life Coaching: A Few Words About Music

I watched the movie “Yesterday” and wanted to cry. Considering a world without the music of the Fab Four would be a very depressing place to live indeed. Can you imagine having never heard the phrase “all you need is Love?” Or “we all live in a yellow submarine.” Or even “goo goo ga joob?” Depressing, isn’t it? 

Growing up in the 60’s and 70’s made for some rather amazing musical creations. From the angst of Led Zeppelin’s “Stairway To Heaven” to Dylan’s snarky “Don’t Think Twice” to Mitchell’s darkly lovely “Case of You,” to the Temptations telling us us it’s all a “Ball of Confusion,” we were entertained, enlightened, invigorated, and entranced by music that changed our lives in ways that are difficult to explain. Of course, the same era brought us such questionable classics as the bubble gum Melanie song “Brand New Key” , or “Loving You” by Minnie Ripperton (I always thought that song sounded like two dolphins mating), but we can forgive such whimsical nonsense because they were part of the whole. I am still trying to figure out what part Johnny Rotten and the Sex Pistols had to play, but they can’t all be winners, can they? 

My point today is I really have no point—just nostalgia for music when musicians actually took the time to be proficient on their instruments rather than relying on electronics to make up the deficit. I doubt there will ever be another Jimi Hendrix whose left handed guitar playing amazed and awed us all. I am skeptical that the world will ever produce another Janis Joplin or Otis Redding.  I am uncertain the world would receive another John Lennon, George Harrison, Ray Charles, Tom Petty, or Roy Orbison. 

My grandson has recently discovered Cyndi Lauper, and while she’s definitely not 60’s and 70’s music, I am encouraging him to listen to “Time After Time” time after time. In fact, I made the boy a playlist of such 80’s classics as “Walking on Broken Glass” and “Everybody Walk The Dinosaur,” simply because it’s preferable to mindless pulsating electronic beats that make up techno dub-step. (My very soul shudders at the thought that his musical tastes would run to “I have a pen, I have an apple, I have a pineapple.” Ugh...)

I’m gonna try “Funkytown” our on him next. It may smack of techno-type beats, but at least it was original at the time it was written.  

I realize each generation thinks their music was the best. I get that. But...here are a few things to think about while you’re lying awake in your beds...

1. Where did Janie get her gun? 

2. What did Mary Jane do after her last dance? 

3. What is the real meaning behind Puff The Magic Dragon? 

4. Whatever happened to Billy the Mountain and Ethel the Tree? 

5. Whose bathroom window did she come in through anyway? 

6. Did Desperado ever come to his senses? 

7. Did David really know a secret chord that pleased the Lord? 

8. Where did the devil go after he went down to Georgia and got beat in the fiddle playing contest? 

9. Just who was Bobby McGhee? 

10. What do I do if I can’t get next to you? 

These are just a few things I’ve contemplated as a young whippersnapper that the current generation will never know. I’m not saying that’s a bad thing, just that it’s a different thing. I’m glad I have my music and I’m grateful the happy memories it evokes. I am also grateful for the pain...the pain of that first dramatic breakup. We girls all had at least one, where we listened to Joni Mitchell, ate a carton of ice cream with our peeps and sobbed as we sang “Case Of You” in hollow, broken voices. That’s a sisterhood right there in itself. I am grateful for songs of protest in the midst of the Vietnam war era, songs calling for peace and grateful for the day it finally happened. I am grateful that when I want to just chill out, I have Lennon, McCartney, Harrison and Starr. I have Bowie and Badfinger. I have Zappa and Clapton. I have Trower and Fogelberg. I have Prine and Lee. I have Steppenwolf and Sister Sledge. 

And most of all, I am grateful for Jesus. He’s the one who truly deserves gratitude. He allowed me to grow up in that crazy, peace-loving, war-mongering era that produced some of the finest music ever written. It made me the happy, old hippie I am today. God bless! Maranatha! And peace out!✌️ 

Life Coaching: Why Words Matter

I am having a crisis of conscience...well, it’s a crisis for me, at any rate. What do you do when you know something needs to be said, yet you just don’t know how to say it? I am seldom at a loss for words, but I feel that way today. 

How can we address delicate situations with love? What words do we use? How important are those words in the grand scheme of things? I would submit this: Words matter. The words we choose to use when addressing others are extremely important. I remember when I was a kid we had a saying: “Sticks and stones can break my bones, but words will never hurt me.” That is a bare faced lie. Words can harm us more than blows. Words can wreak havoc on our self-esteem, devastate our children, and leave us depressed and lonely. I am more and more conscious of that as I age. 

What legacy do we leave behind? Largely, it’s a legacy of words. Words spoken in love, words spoken in haste, and words spoken in anger. It takes only one second to stop and think about our  words, and it can save us a thousand movements of regret. People remember words spoken in anger far more than they remember words spoken in peace. It seems strange, doesn’t it? I honestly believe the devil makes certain we remember those devastating words because that is what he does—tear down the army of the Lord until they are debilitated to the point of no longer being a threat to him. What are we gonna do about that? 

I, for one, am gonna be kind. Even when it’s hard, I choose kindness. I am choosing life instead of death. And I am asking you to choose life with me. Let’s do this life together with love and kindness, letting God lead us and allowing Him to guide us with His Word. I am not advocating letting people walk all over us. There’s a time to speak and a time to keep silent. I get that. But just because we CAN speak doesn’t always mean we SHOULD.. Let the Holy Spirit lead. 

This was a bit of a ramble, but I hope you guys don’t mind. I am on vacation and trying to do a little soul searching this week. God bless you!

Life Coaching: Til Debt Do Us Part

I am a blogging slacker. I freely admit this. Most times, I am frantically searching for something to write about at 11:30 the night before this blog is due to be up. I wasn’t always like that. In my former glory days, I was prepared, and I was ready with something write all the time. Nowadays, life is more hectic and finding the time to write something of worth is like mining for gold—tedious and discouraging. However, on those rare days I know I have something relevant to say, it’s worth it. This is not one of those days…

This is one of those days, unfortunately, when my teensy weensy brain is struggling to come up with a topic—any topic—to help folks along with their daily lives. Today—NADA, So, on days like this one, I just kinda go with the flow and take this blog wherever it wants to go (within reason, of course). Because sometimes, it wants to go beyond reason, and I wouldn’t want to frighten the passengers by the ramblings of landing my plane…

I am getting ready to drive somewhere today. It doesn’t matter where. The point is, I’m driving. I’m getting into my newly purchased debt free vehicle and driving. I am not taking that fact for granted. The fact that I’m able to get out of debt, write about it, and hopefully, live the rest of my life like that, really excites me. My sister and I went shopping this week (sorry for the totally segue into a whole other topic, but it’s relevant I promise), and we made a pact—we didn’t allow ourselves to spend more than $20 the entire day (not including lunch). We had plans on going to a couple of different places, but discovered $20 would only take us so far. It took us right down the street to Marshalls. There we spent a happy hour or two looking for something within our budget. We got one item of clothing, but my favorite purchase was a pack of fuzzy socks. For $4.99, we were able to obtain a three pack set of the Holy Grail of fuzzy socks—soft, luxurious, and most of all, budget friendly. I can’t remember a day of such shopping fun.

Living life on a budget isn’t easy, at least not for me. I don’t like it, and it’s hard when Bath And Body Works is having that semi-annual sale. It’s hard when Hobby Lobby marks their yarn 40% off. It’s difficult when I get those coupons from G. H. Bass in my inbox. (Psst…coupon code is FRIENDS30 this week!) But, I learned. I’m an old dog, and I don’t like new tricks. This has been a learning curve and I wasn’t really happy about it in the beginning. But, I’m happy about it now. I’ve learned how to budget my month, how to designate funds (for the most part), and most of all, how to get out of debt.

I didn’t really have a crushing debt to start with, just in case you were wondering, but the debt I DID have was driving me crazy. God wouldn’t leave me alone about it, and so I took steps to remove it. It didn’t happen overnight, and I’m sure there will be times when I’ll have to use my credit to make purchases in the future. I’m not naive enough to think I’ll never have to finance a good or a service in the future. However, for the moment, I’m savoring the sweet taste of victory.

Have a wonderful day!

Life Coaching: Just Breathe

I had a simply lovely post written for today. It was all about Rosh Hashanah (the Feast of Trumpets). Rosh Hashanah started at sundown on Sunday, and it’s a big deal. There’s a feast and a shofar is blown. A shofar is a horn made from the horn of a ram, and from personal experience, I can attest to the fact that they are LOUD.

We don’t often hear the sound of a shofar in modern day American churches. It’s just not something our teachers decide to do in Sunday school. But maybe we should. Perhaps the sound of that trumpet would awaken some of the sleep that seems to dog our brains from time to time.

When we breathe in deeply and blow a trumpet (or a shofar), we are returning back to God the very breath He gave us. From the moment of we take our first intake of breath until the last expulsion, we are breathing Gods oxygen. Babies cry “Yah” at their first breath and elders wheeze “Weh” when they breathe their last. put that together, and it’s God’s Name—Yahweh.

What are we doing with the breath He gave us? How does breathing God’s air affect our lives? How does that fit into our vision? These are questions to ponder today. Just breathe!

I pray that God will breathe His life into YOUR life today! God bless! Maranatha!

Life Coaching: When You’re Just Not Feeling It

One of the byproducts of widowhood has been difficulty sleeping. Whether I go to bed at a decent hour, or wait until 2:00 a.m., it makes no difference. If it’s gonna be one of “those” nights, it’s gonna be one of “those” nights and there’s nothing I can do about it. I’ve tried medication. I’ve tried lavender. I’ve tried wine and whiskey. Nothing works for very long. Haven’t tried cigarettes yet, but that seems to go along with wine and whiskey on some visceral level and I just thought I’d throw that in for good measure…

I wouldn’t mind the sleepless nights so much if it wasn’t for the mornings after. The mornings after are pure, unadulterated, miserable creatures from the pit of hell. My hair is sticking up all over my head, my sheets are askew, Trixie is befuddled, my eyes look like I’ve went 10 rounds with Tyson, and my body is just simply TIRED! I am just not feeling it.

Those moments come to us all—moments of sheer exhaustion, whether a result of physical, mental, emotional, spiritual, or financial stress, We all have times when we are just not feeling it. We want to lay down and just be left alone until the moment (or day, week, month, year) passes, and we don’t feel good about ourselves for even thinking that. We Christians are supposed to be world overcomers, and the there are always people around to remind us of that fact. Well, sometimes we just don’t want to hear it, so leave us alone!

Ok, so now that the previous statement has your attention, what on earth do we do about it when we feel like that? First of all, if we’re physically exhausted, we need to rest. If we’re mentally exhausted, we need to rest. If we’re emotionally, exhausted, we need to REST! You get the idea…Rest is key to recovering our balance, in every aspect of our lives. We have to rest. Even if we can’t sleep, rest is still beneficial. We can shut off our minds and just rest quietly and recharge.

Secondly, we can educate ourselves to the nature of our complaint. Google is my best friend with it comes to information. Today, I googled three things before I even got out of bed! When you educate yourself, you discover the nature of your complaint (or malaise, whichever word works for you), and it helps to muddle our way through the pit of despair, as they say in “The Princess Bride.” And for all you fans out there, it drags us back from the “cliffs of insanity.”

Thirdly, we can do something productive. Volunteer at a halfway house, take a meal to a sick friend, help a neighbor plant a tree—but do SOMETHING! If sleeplessness is the problem, get up and do something. I’m not saying to work out like a mad dog at 3:00 a.m., but if we’re awake anyway, it’s a good time to work on those emails, crochet a hat, write greeting cards, anything to get our minds off the ever elusive SLEEP! I sometimes find something to read. A book, remember those? Electronic devices can really hinder sleep, but a good old fashioned book can lull the brain right off into golden slumbers.

Lastly, pray. Pray hard. Even if we don’t feel like it, prayer is the most effective way to get our hearts and minds tuned into God. We may not feel like it, but this is the time when the rubber hits the road. This is the time to ask ourselves, do we believe? Prayer is not a feeling. Prayer is a spiritual disciple we exercise to communicate with the One we love. Our relationships with our families and friends aren’t always perfect. Neither is our relationship with God. Notice I said OUR relationship with God, NOT His relationship with us! His relationship with us is perfect. He has no need to crucify His flesh, He has already done so. WE are the ones who need that! So, bend that knee and pray, even when It hurts. Even when we just don’t feel like it. Doing things we don’t enjoy is part of life, , and, in this instance, it’s vital to our spirits.

Today, I’m just not feeling it. But I’m gonna press on in toward the upward call of Christ, as I am instructed to do in Gods Word. Because my feelings have nothing to do with my actions. My feelings are feelings only. The world doesn’t rise and fall on my feelings, doggone it, no matter how much I might wish that to be the case. There are, of course, times to consider how we feel, but keep this in mind…not feeling like being a Christian today is not an option. I can’t ask my sister to hold my Jesus for me for a day. Heavy burdens are not ours to bear. His yoke is easy. his burden is light. We place the heaviness on ourselves because of the cares of this world. Keep your hope alive.

How To Chalk Paint Your Dog

I actually wrote this two years ago, and decided to post it here today. It’s a funny little story of how I chalk painted my cabinets and accidentally chalk painted Trixie as well… enjoy!!

It all started when I decided to paint my bathroom cabinets...

A few weeks ago, I looked at my bathroom cabinets as if I were seeing them for the first time. They were stained (from me dripping hair color all over them) and a little beat up looking (the result of Trixie during a particularly bad gnawing phase). Deciding that painting was the cheaper option as opposed to replacing them, I set about doing research on the topic and concluded that chalk paint was the way to go. There's little to no sanding involved and it looked fairly easy. I now use the word "looked" fairly loosely...

So yesterday I embarked on what will forever in my memory be labeled as the "Day I Fought the Chalk Paint and the Chalk Paint Won." When I got up yesterday morning, I determined I'd procrastinated enough, and I opened my paint can with a sense of purpose, ready to have my cabinets look like an ad for Better Homes and Gardens. Needless to say, what with my life being what it is, it did not go as planned...for starters, that doggone chalk paint is THICK! It was like brushing biscuit dough onto the cabinet. So I stirred it some more. Still thick. I concluded this must be the consistency of the paint itself and proceeded to spread it on the cabinets and hope for the best. Because by this time, I was committed...I had the doors off and had started spreading it on. Looking back, I should have tried this technique on something smaller rather than starting on such a large project, but it looked simple enough on the internet, didn't it? 

After a couple of hours of fighting that paint and waiting a while between coats (yes, FOUR coats, ladies and gentlemen), I was ready to put on the wax. 

The wax...let me just state right here that waxing that paint is nowhere near as easy as it looks...it sticks like glue to the chalk paint and doesn't go on as smoothly as it does for Chip and Joanna Gaines...just saying...Finally get that finished and have to end up going back and sanding a couple of areas (something I was trying to avoid) where the wax just did not adhere. Fun time for all, right there now...

Then, came the highlight is my day...I had taken the cabinet doors down to the garage to finish painting because my bathroom was simply too small for both me and four doors. I kept stepping on them...By this time, I'm covered head to toes ( literally had to wash my feet) in chalk paint. I'm tired, grouchy and hungry....that is the only excuse for the making of my next decision...I decide to take the OPENED paint can DOWNSTAIRS to finish up...you can guess how this ends...yep, spilled that sucker all over the kitchen floor. I spent the next 15 or 20 minutes wiping chalk paint from every surface within a five foot radius of me and the can. I was washing my brush at the sink, and looked behind me and there was Trixie...and you guessed it...covered in paint splatter...got admit, I did not handle that well...I may or may not have used a few choice words.  

After wiping her off the best I could with baby wipes, I determine I would have to bathe her. Ok, you gotta understand...this is something both she and I deplore. To say  she resists the procedure is putting it mildly. 

Since I have limited ways of bathing her at the house, I bundle her up and make an unplanned trip to Pet Supply Plus to wash her off. So here I am, out in public in paint-splattered overalls, a do-rag on my head and Crocs. We both look like we've been hit by a Sherwin-Williams paint truck. 

So we go through the ordeal of the bath, and thankfully, the paint comes off. I have never prayed for dog paint removal before, but there is a first time for everything.  

At the end of the day, neither Trixie nor I died, so I'd have to call it a good, albeit a challenging day.  Those cabinet doors are still in my garage, awaiting waxing. I'm gonna try to complete that today. I must say, although I will certainly never be an expert, they don't look too bad. Problem is, I have another bathroom...

Have a great day and God bless!!

Life Coaching: How Our Covenant With God Becomes Our Testimony

Our pastor has been teaching out of the book of Joshua. As a result, I have been thinking out of the book of Joshua. I tend to think about what’s right in front of me because my mind just won’t hold a thought any longer than that. I’m not saying I have a bad memory because that would mean I’m admitting to getting older, which I’m not prepared to do just yet…

In the fourth chapter of Joshua, something interesting happens…I went back and read that chapter today to refresh my memory, and I noticed something I’d never noticed before. I’m gonna recap a little bit here because it’s important to know a little backstory. The Lord had told the children of Israel to cross the Jordan river. God parted the Jordan River just like He’d parted the Red Sea for Moses. But this time, God gave them specific instructions: “Take one man from every tribe (there were 12 tribes), and have each of them carry 12 stones and place them in the middle of the dried up Jordan River to use as a memorial. (I paraphrased that just a bit) Then, Joshua instructed the 12 men to cross over the Jordan River carrying those stones, and the Ark of the Covenant would follow behind them. This is interesting in itself, but what struck me was this: In verse 7, the Ark was referred to as “The Ark of the Covenant of the Lord.” But in verse 15, the Ark is referred to as “The Ark of the Testimony.” It was after placing those memorial stones and crossing the Jordan River that the Ark of the Covenant became the Ark of the Testimony. I think this is important in a couple of ways: 1) The Ark was a constant reminder of the covenant between God and His people, the children of Israel, and 2) The Ark was tangible proof of the testimony of the faithfulness of God to bring His people through the trials of crossing the Jordan River. The covenant became part of the testimony.

If we fast forward to today, what does this mean to us? It means there are times in our lives when God moves on our behalf. We may not always see it, but we know it, and we remember it. There are other times, when we see it clearly and immediately. All those times are our memorial stones, markers in our lives when we can look back and say, “I know that was God. I know He was with me. I know that was an answered prayer.” It becomes part of our testimony. It’s something we can grab hold of when our days are dark and bleak. It is a time when God reminds us of His covenant with His people. It reminds us of the grafting that took place when we accepted Him as our Father, and accepted His Son, Jesus, as our Savior and Lord. The covenant and our testimony are so intertwined, it would be impossible to separate the two.

We were created in the image of the Omnipotent God. We were created for a purpose. And part of that purpose is to tell others about Him. There are things we can keep silent about, but talking about how God has transformed our lives isn’t one of them. True transformation just kind spills out and sloshes all over everybody. There’s no stopping it. It just happens. And it happens because we have a desire to share with others the amazing God we serve.

Things aren’t always sunshine and unicorns. I will be the first one to admit that. But even in the days of darkness and plain old ponies, we can trust God to be who He says He is. He is our Covenant and He is our Testimony. He loves us, and He moves on our behalf constantly. We sometimes don’t see it, and we oftentimes don’t feel it. But life consists of more than seeing and feeling. It consists of strength, integrity and honor. It consists of peace, mercy and joy. It is on such solid things as these that our lives are made whole.

May God remind you of His covenant and your testimony today. God bless!

Life Coaching: On Being An Insurance Agent and Life Coach

I attended a funeral this evening. One of my insurance clients that I’ve known for 20 years passed away. He was a good man, a decent man, and a kind man. And here I sit, questioning again…

I have often wondered why I decided to become an insurance agent. I feel like I was lured into it, in a way.. The pay was attractive and the prospect of residual income was also nice when I made the choice, but I’ve got to admit, since my husband passed away, my passion for it sort of waned…but not tonight…Tonight I know exactly why I decided to become an insurance agent. I know the “why.” I was able to help this family many years ago prepare for such a contingency as this, and tonight, I am once more proud to be an insurance agent.

I know I won’t be in this profession forever. One day, I’ll transition Into full time life coaching. But not tonight. Tonight, I’ll weep with this family. I’ll walk with this family. I’ll remember with this family. The process of grieving with them brings back memories…memories of the loss of my own husband and the days immediately following. These are not memories I am fond of, but those memories help shape my life. They are now part of me.

Our lives consist of good bad, mediocre, mundane, white, black and gray. We twist and turn, go forward and back, we move and we’re still. Through it all, our characters are revealed and refined. How we respond to adversity reveals our faith, and what we do with the revealing refines us. Our refining is a life-long process. Until our eyes close for the final time, like this precious client, we are changed from faith to faith and from glory to glory. Until we reach the final glory in His presence.