Sandra Bullock gave a commencement address back in 2014, to a school in Louisiana and detailed some things that, as a mom, she also did with her son who was 4 at the time. She said “we turn on the music really, really loud before we leave the house and the rule is you have to dance a little bit before you step out in the world because it changes the way you walk. It changes the way you walk out in the world.”

Our cat is ready to dance by about 6:15am with meows that get louder with each passing minute as dawn begins to break. I’m slow to wake, I like my coffee black, my eyes closed and my mornings quiet and the caterwaul alarm clock does little to charm me to want to dance to anything but the coffee pot.

Give me half an hour and let my eyes begin to focus, and I might be able to get those toes to start wiggling. Eternally optimistic, I see my world in shades of color, mostly yellow like sunflowers and wispy white clouds but gray can absolutely find it’s way in the cracks but I find that if the day begins on the right note, the rest tends to follow close. I find something to utter out loud, that I’m grateful for. Many things actually. I thank God for yesterday, and I thank Him that I got to wake up again today and I apologize for being cranky and promise to do better.

I used to balk at the idea that I had a choice in turning on the happy switch or accepting the grouchy one but it is a deliberate and conscious choice that is yours for the taking. Perhaps multiple times per day until you get the hang of it. It’s not fail safe, and it’s also okay to have bad days and rest in the quiet of change and lost expectations. But all in all, when the shadows of daily life consistently color your world gray, it might be a good time to see if you might be the one standing in the way of the light.

Shine bright and yes, dance in the morning. For me, I’ll give it a go after my first cup of Joe.

Elaine

John 15:11: “These things have I spoken to you, that My joy may remain in you, and that your joy may be full.”

If Joy is the epitome of human soaring happiness, then despair must surely be it’s opponent. While no one wishes to suffer pain, without it, we can’t understand the depth of abundant elation, not to mention growth. The world we inhabit is rife with pain, and because we learn of news in a flash of time, we instantaneously hear of gross tragedy round the world almost from the moment it occurs. Too much information is bringing forth a numbness to the pain of others until it reaches too close to our own doorstep.

Thank God for children. Children cry easily. When my first grader daughter came home from school one day relating a story of her friend who cried that day, she began to weep while telling the story. She felt deep empathy for this friend of hers, as if the pain were happening to her.

From Harvard University’s Making Caring Common: “Empathy is at the heart of what it means to be human. It’s a foundation for acting ethically, for good relationships of many kinds, for loving well, and for professional success.”

https://mcc.gse.harvard.edu/resources-for-families/5-tips-cultivating-empathy

My husband and I recently passed an extraordinary car accident that piled up cars and emergency vehicles for miles. There was an unannounced period of silence between us as we passed by, knowing that life was lost that day. It wasn’t our family member nor did it have to be. I realized I was still human, and I shed a tear for the families of those in that crash and said a prayer of peace. It genuinely hurt and I was grateful that it did.

God gave us a heart, room for compassion and an innate need to love. Regardless of where you stand on faith, it’s hard to deny His words. “Finally, all of you should be of one mind. Sympathize with each other. Love each other as brothers and sisters. Be tenderhearted and keep a humble attitude.”

Love well,

Elaine

I had a male friend who grew up on the south side of Boston once tell me that “My word is like my balls. I don’t break neither for nobody. Ever”. Crude, but effective. He said what he meant and meant what he said.

For almost 18 years, we have heard vows recited in all manner of pomp and circumstance, in versions both short and long, with both trembling awe and with soaring joy, Merriam Webster defines a vow as a ‘solemn promise’.

“To promise is to ‘tell someone that you will definitely do something or that something will definitely happen’ and to do so solemnly, is to do so in a ‘very serious or formal manner, behavior, or expression’. To make that profound a vow in front of witnesses, of family and of God, takes that promise to a height of ultimate conviction, dignity and respect. These are not mere words. They are the expression of your being and they convey honor and truth. They should not be taken lightly nor tossed around like chaff in the wind. Words without belief are hollow sounds, unworthy of utterance.

We can profess a love for beer with the same word we use to love a child. It is the purpose and action behind the declaration that separates a goal from a realization.

May your spoken words to others be few but significant, may your unspoken words be heard by way of the heart. May you be still enough to hear them both and keep them sacred like promises.

Elaine

I love surprises. For the most part. There is always a slight fear of not knowing what is about to come around the bend and sometimes that is a good thing and other times not. Roller coaster rides for instance, give me the kind of fear of which I’m not a fan. I’ll go on them, but it’s not going to be my idea to get in line again. On the other hand, when I was pregnant with my first child, I really wanted to wait to find out the sex of the baby and I have zero regrets because that was the biggest and most joyful type of surprise. No, the nursery wasn’t painted and yes all of the baby clothes were yellows and greens but I loved it. I found out the sex of one of my next two but kept the last one a secret again.  It was the ultimate example of icing on the cake.

Enjoying a good surprise is letting go of the need to be in control.

When the freeze of the century happened in February, we did not know what in the world to expect out of our gardens and landscape plants. It has been so fun to see what we thought were goners, begin to show buds of life, like it’s April! We lost some beautiful old oak trees but just saw new life out of a stump of agaves we thought were toast, just last week. I have bluebonnets still popping up in the wettest areas of our home yard. The historic low temperatures were out of our control and so was knowing what was going to survive and what was lost. We had low expectations and with that came lots of surprise gifts. My shasta daisies were certainly not expected to return after such a deep and prolonged freeze but what a delight to see them bursting with pride, after all the rains. Healing rains.

Maybe nature is on to something. Unpredictability is sometimes a great stabilizer. Give it up to the powers that be and watch the earth unfold. <3

When you live in the same house day after day, week after week, year after year for 20 years, you know instinctively from where every shadow is cast, what sticks of furniture to avoid in the middle of the night to not stub a toe and you’ve memorized the exact placement of the sunsets or sunrises in any given season.

I was awakened one early morning with an orange-pink color washing across my semi dark room and not being used to seeing this, ever, I got up to see who in the world was playing with lights so early in the morning before the coffee was even ready. You can’t see the sun rise from any point in my house because the trees get in the way. Determined to see this unusual color emanating from my room, I stepped outside my second-floor balcony and had to twist my body over the railing to look almost behind the house and there I beheld the most exquisite sunrise my home had ever known.

How could it be that I had invariably missed this vantage point for 20 years? Why this day in early February did the sky decide to open up my eyes? Yes, I ask those kinds of questions. All the dang time.

What an example of how living day to day over time, we get far too used to our ways, our routines and our comfort. Perhaps it was a reminder to waken early, to crane the neck every once in a while, to glimpse the unknown secrets of beauty that lie in wait.

Perhaps there are secret treasures in those we love, whose lives we think we know but maybe we’ve just become too complacent to think there is any surprise left. But I would argue that I myself behold a certain amount of allure, not yet known to others who’ve not yet asked the right questions. Point being; never stop searching for truths in the darkness, never stop questioning the deep passions that reside in every heart and always be willing to explore the tired places.

When my brother was in middle school, he was in a wood shop class and decided he wanted to build me a hope chest. It’s a large (3’ long x 2.5’ wide x 2.5’ tall) box made entirely of cedar that is now over 40 years old and rests solidly on my bedroom floor next to my bed. It is crammed with mementos of early childhood toys long forgotten but held lifelong in comfort, baby blankets, soft terry cloth animal shapes with windup nursery songs, a few items of clothes that remain precious to me, and buried deep within its borders are the treasures of a pregnancy that ended in stillbirth.

Two sweet baby girls that lived and danced only from within, never making it to the outside world, and never getting the opportunity to witness the joys nor sorrows of the last 30 years. I have their tiny footprints on their birth certificates, the sonogram pictures of the stages of their growth and I have an album full of condolence letters from friends and family some of whom only heard of our story and felt compelled to share our grief.

The pain of those days and years to follow engulfed our family and I quite frankly never thought I’d know happiness without paralyzing fear, ever again. But God was faithful then as He is now, and our lives plodded forward one day at a time until joy returned in fits and starts and finally took up residence in our chaotic lives. Those dear rosy faces and the permanence left on our family will never die out completely for they are but part of the definition of who we became. Once broken, we picked up those sharp pieces and let them roll a lifetime in our hearts until the edges were somehow dulled like sea glass tossed in the ocean.

Such is the way I seem to view this year of 2020. It is a year of upheaval, of unimaginable turmoil and stress. A great deal of loss of life and livelihood. And yet I want to choose joy. I want to remember every moment because it too will define a part of our collective character. It should serve as a reminder that life is messy, never fair and ultimately a choice between succumbing to devastation and fear of what lies ahead and grabbing hold of the preciousness of life and daring to live boldly in spite of what seems out of control.

I went on to have 2 more children, both boys this time and they have asked over the years if the girls, Adrianna & Hannah had lived, would we have gone ahead with more pregnancies and had them? It’s a valid question and one I cannot answer. God saw fit to bless us with them all regardless and each has had their own immeasurable and indelible mark left upon us. And I am convinced I will see, and hold, those baby girls again.

One who has known the loss of a child can attest that you’ll never look at a life quite the same. Much the way a cancer survivor looks at the days still left and embraces each as a new opportunity to grasp and cherish all the more. 2020 came in like a freight train that jumped its tracks leaving an incredible swath of upheaval in its path. It took with it a bit of arrogance, an air of entitlement toward what remained and a sigh of relief that there may not be much left.

Marriage is the epitome of the example of a life well lived. At once so exuberant and worthy of dancing in the streets, a yearning of intimacy and connected hearts and yet challenging beyond description and often sorrowful. The back and forth of good and bad, of joy and of pain, of success and of failure and grief and of grace. It molds us. It creates within us an ability to be human toward another.

I hope not to wish that 2020 would end for that would mean that I hastened another day away in my life of only so many, only to realize I count less to come.

Capture this day, this month of December, this end to yet another year. Hold tight to it for it will not come ‘round again and I promise you, if you look for it, you’ll see the gifts that were wrapped so tightly within it.

Merry and bright,

Elaine

Romans 15:13 “May the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace as you trust in Him, so that you may overflow with hope by the power of the Holy Spirt”.

Interesting that I’m writing on this day, a day of great anxiety for so many. It wasn’t intentional but rather a byproduct of a busy life. Sometimes, folks just need a word of stability, a word of care and compassion. 

I liken my life sometimes to a small boat that has been pulled off its mooring and is floating about in calm lake waters, only to start swaying back and forth, softly at first from a gentle breeze and then more frightening as the waters around me find waves of strength and might as though from the sea. The winds pick up and seem to casually toss me around without so much as an asking of permission. But then, just as quickly as the roiling began, the waters calm again, all the while I’m trying to keep standing upright. My bet is that you can relate.

Relationships can often feel like we’re at the mercy of the deck of cards dealt that day, dependent on the change of wind direction, certainly dependent on mood and circumstance. We often feel as though there is no constancy, no consolation, no oars to guide the boat. And that’s exactly when it’s necessary to hang on to the one thing that does not change.  

Each passing generation has been rocked to its core with internal and external division, wars followed by peace, calm followed by chaos. This season is no different, though it is ours to fret the outcomes of votes cast, prayers prayed by both sides. Yet One remains. He is faithful and true. 

I offer a simple blessing; one of hope, one of absolute truth. Psalm 23 was written by King David over a 1000 years ago. Read that again. One thousand years ago. It gave peace then and I hope it gives you peace today.

“The LORD is my shepherd; I shall not want. He makes me lie down in green pastures, He leads me beside still waters. He restores my soul. He leads me in paths of righteousness for his name’s sake. Even though I walk in the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil for you are with me; your rod and your staff, they comfort me. 

You prepare a table before me in the presence of my enemies; you anoint my head with oil; my cup overflows. Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life, and I shall dwell in the house of the LORD forever.”

This election too shall pass, and no one will remember in 1000 years. He however, will still sit on the throne.

Elaine