Real Life Reflections

The barren one is now in her sixth month.  Not one promise from God is empty of power  for nothing is impossible with God. Luke 1: 37 The Passion Translation I've never thought that much about Elizabeth. Gabriel speaks here to Mary - the mother-to-be of none other than GOD Himself! Who has a thought to spare for this side character in THE story of divine visitation? God come to earth. Wow. Talk about a headline for the New York Times! Why does Gabriel even mention Elizabeth? I don't know, but I'm glad he did.  I read these verses with a different perspective this morning.  "The barren one." Elizabeth is now past childbearing years. It's not a secret. Everyone in her community knows she's barren (it's obvious). The life part of her life is over. There is no hope for her to have her dream - a life like her friends have. She's different from her family, her neighbors. In a time when children are everything, she has nothing.  And now it's too late...

I used to label myself as a conservative Christian. Used to. Lately, I'm almost ashamed to even be called a "christian" (that lowercase "c" is on purpose). It seems that over the last eight to ten years, being "christian" has become more about being right than about being Christ-like. It's more about enforcing a perceived level of moral behavior that has nothing to do with a person's heart (what was that Jesus said about a "whitewashed tomb" in Matthew 23:27?). Being "christian" has become more about power, control, and supremacy than it is about loving your neighbor or your God. I'm deeply saddened by the current "christian" focus on the sins of others (LGBTQ anyone?), by the lack of humility, by the pain inflicted (knowingly and unknowingly) on those who are unlike us. I've recently seen the ugliness of my own whitewashed tomb. I don't like it. I cried to see that my heart contains such haughtiness an...

Depending on your source, new businesses that fail within their first twelve months range from 20% to 90%. My own observations over the years (I have no solid data to back this) is that these failures are not from a lack of skill but from a lack of business-sense and of infra-structure.  So here I am with my own start-up, and of course, I want it to succeed, but I'm a writer, an editor, and an HR professional. I'm not a small business owner. Oh wait. Yes, I am. Last week, I spent a fair amount of time networking and learning about the business side of things. By Thursday evening, it's fair to say that I was a tad overwhelmed.  I had listened, processed, and absorbed as much as I could. It felt like I had walked into a dense forest. Trees grew closely together and leaves scattered the ground. I could no longer see the path. I looked up. I looked around. Nothing but trees and leaves. Tall and beautiful and amazing in their brilliant fall colors but so many of them!  I froze...

 Americans have a favorite pastime, and no, I'm not referring to baseball or football. This pastime doesn't cost any money. You don't need tickets, and there's no set game time. It happens every day. You don't need to be physically fit. You don't need special training. We do it at book club, at work, on the road, in meetings, having lunch with friends, etc. You get the idea. What is it? Complaining. We love to complain, and I'm right there in the fray, tearing everything and everyone apart. Sometimes it wears me out. My mom passed away many years ago, and one of my all-time favorite memories of life with her goes back to my summer between high school and college. We worked together that summer. Drove together every morning, bright and early, right into the rising sun. One morning, my mom reached into her purse and grabbed her sunglasses, putting them on just as we rounded the bend on the St. Louis-rush-hour-busy road that put us directly in the sun's pat...

A few weeks ago, my husband and I had dinner with our daughter-in-law and two of our grand children. My daughter-in-law lost her job a couple of months ago. I wanted an update on current job prospects or plans, so I asked, "What are you doing these days?" Her answer was simple and yet incredibly profound.              Resting. (Is that even a word in the American lexicon?) I'm proud of her, and of them, for making the decision that it's time for her to rest. She's been in hyper-drive for all the years I've known her (over 16).  That word has haunted me since she spoke it. Resting. What would happen if I...if you...gave it a try?  In Psalm 23: 6a, David says Surely goodness and mercy will follow me. In K.J. Ramsey's The Lord is My   Courage (page 240), she tells us that our English word, "follow," doesn't convey the power behind the original Hebrew word that David used (radaph). She tells us that radaph means "to pursue, chase, and pers...

  "Gradually then suddenly" This line from a poem written by  my poet/philosopher nephew strikes a chord with me (Apparently some guy named Hemingway was the first to pen it. Although, I prefer to give the credit to my nephew). Gradually then suddenly  seems to be the way life happens. You wait for your dream-job. You long to find "the one." You can't wait to become a parent. The pining and preparation go on for years (just ask any medical student - or their spouse!). Then suddenly you get the call and can-you-start-next-week; or he finds your wallet and your life changes its trajectory ( true story about my niece) ; or the adoption agency contacts you when you've all but given up hope. Sometimes the gradually then suddenly isn't of our own choosing. Sometimes life propels us into a suddenly that we don't expect and may not want...or maybe we do.  I've been a litlover since childhood (both reading it and writing it). I've done the work of...

Gideon: By his own admission, his family was the weakest of his tribe, and he was the weakest in his family (Judges 6: 15-16). Midianites: Big bullies who oppressed the Israelites back in the day. As the story goes, this little-nobody-Gideon is doing manual labor for his dad (I'm thinking that this might be akin to working at Walmart - not exactly a career - or even a job - that causes anyone to preen), when an angel calls him, "a mighty man of valor" (Judges 6: 12). Huh? Oh, you mean this other guy, right? Nope, I'm talkin' to you. Fast forward and we find this little-nobody-Gideon camping near Israel's oppressors with a team of 32,000. This seems like a lot until Gideon checks out the enemy and finds that there are so many Midianites and their pals, the Amalekites, that no one can count them. They seemed "like locust in abundance and their camels were without number as the sand that is on the seashore." (Judges 7: 12) Gulp. What does God ...

This is my son with his wife and their son (taken over a year ago - note to self: take pictures of your children, not just your grand children at family gatherings!) My son's birthday is coming up, which as birthdays do, causes me to reflect on him and on his life. If you read my last post, A Letter to My Son , you've probably figured out that he wasn't the golden child that all his teachers dreamed of having in their classroom. At times, I feared that he wouldn't graduate (at least not with his class). I shed a lot of tears during those first eighteen years of his life. So did he. At the end of this month, he will turn thirty. Thirty. (Yikes!) Not only did he graduate high school with his class, he graduated college too - in four years. He's married to a wonderful woman who is totally crazy about him (and he, her). They have an adorable son. She is a pediatrician. He is a well-respected audio engineer - the type that gets called out of the blue and offered...

This is my grandson (I know. He's pretty dang cute, right?) His daddy, my son, posted a picture of him on Instagram with a caption stating that he could not love this baby any more. What he doesn't know, what he can't possibly know right now, is that he will... Just wait, my dearest son, just wait. When his kindergarten teacher mistakes his inability to sit still for rebelliousness. When she pulls you aside on a daily basis to tell you all that he's done wrong that day. When she gives him eleven demerits in just three hours of school. When she keeps him in from recess day after day, although recess is what he needs most in his structured day. When he's in trouble so often that you find him lying on his bed sobbing and wondering why God made him, and he says, "I should just kill myself" - in kindergarten. And your heart breaks. When his best friend finds a new best friend. And your heart breaks. When you walk by his 5th grade classr...

The three of us stood there talking after service. It's what we do at my church. Little groups of people standing around throughout the sanctuary catching up and making plans and meeting new friends. I was speaking with a long-time friend and my sister-in-law. The long-time friend is one of our ministry leaders who has a passion for The Cure by Bill Thrall and Bruce McNicol.  I've read The Cure .  I didn't like it.  My sister-in-law is currently in one of our women's bible studies. They're studying The Cure. Long-time friend asked Sister-in-law what she thought. I started to feel oh-so-uncomfortable. What will I say if he asks me if I've read it? What do I say that is both supportive and honest? The next service was about to begin. We needed to move out. The moment passed. Whew. On the drive home, my thoughts zeroed in on that conversation. Over the past ten years or so, I've read countless books with the same message as The Cure . It's not the...

Mary and the infamous Martha: I've long pondered these two sisters. It's always seemed so unfair of Jesus to rebuke Martha for her busy-ness. I confess, I've taken it personally. I'm very practical. I see what needs to be done, I do it. I like life to be orderly and organized, and with a house full of guests, just like Martha, I'd be in the kitchen. Why should she be rebuked? I'm not a Bible scholar, and I don't know this for a fact, but I think Mary and Martha are mentioned by name in the gospels of Luke and John more than any other individuals besides the twelve apostles. That has to mean something, right? Like maybe "pay attention to these stories, they're important!" The other day I began reading John 11. It's the story of Jesus raising Lazarus from the dead. I'm reading along: Now a certain man was ill, Lazarus of Bethany, the village of Mary and her sister Martha. It was Mary who anointed the Lord with ointment and wiped His ...

A little over a month ago, I set out to go through the assignments in the book, The Highly Sensitive Person's Companion. Five blog posts later, I've found that there doesn't seem to be a lot of interest in this particular subject. My motivation in writing on the life of introverts is to encourage and support those blessed with this character trait. If that's not happening, I have no problem moving on. Which is exactly what I plan to do. I have several writing projects in process, and I plan to take a break from blogging to spend some time where my passion is - children's literature. Of course, if you're an introvert in need of a little encouragement or some helpful hints, please feel free to contact me by email (lgal116@gmail.com). I'd be more than happy to offer whatever support, advice, and encouragement I can!

A few years and two children after my husband and I married, we gathered in front of a TV along with my small crowd of in-laws. One of my brothers-in-law had converted a collection of home movies into the latest cutting-edge technology: VHS tapes. We watched the black and white antics of twenty-seven cousins who grew up closer than many siblings do. As the tape played, I began to marvel at my mother-in-law and her sisters. I only had two children and often enough felt like sanity was just beyond my reach. Here were three women with twenty-seven children between them. And no, they were not sweet, calm, book-loving children that never gave their parents cause for hair-tearing. They were lively, spirited, wrestling, yelling, prank-pulling, Little Rascals-worthy normal children. As one Easter, somewhere in the 1960s, scrolled across the screen, and these cherubic children in their clean, pressed, darling Easter attire paraded down the front steps of my husband's boyhood home, my marv...

I hate this week's topic: me. I don't mean that I literally hate me, but this week's Introverts Thrive assignment is to list all the attributes of your introversion that are positive. The assignment isn't to list positive attributes of introversion in general - you know, all those other introverts out there. Nope. It's to list those positive attributes of introversion that you (I) personally hold and exhibit from time to time. Ugh. Really, I've been stuck on this one for three weeks. Squirming. Writhing. Ignoring. Re-reading. Surely I misunderstood. Not a chance. Honestly, I would much prefer to make a list of the attributes of God. It would be a lot easier and more fun, but I think this exercise is important in understanding ourselves, in accepting ourselves, in loving the person God created. In order to make your list, try looking at yourself from God's perspective. Picture you and God sitting down for a chat. He starts singing to you the song from tho...

 I can be my own worst enemy. I do things that disagree with my nature, things that cause me stress. It seems rather silly, right? Okay, maybe idiotic is a better descriptor. Regardless, I still do them. Why? Good question. I'm not a psychologist, but having lived with myself for a while now, my best guess would be that it's because of the lies I've believed (which you can read about here if you missed last week's post). So what exactly do I do that makes me an enemy of me? Here are a few of them: * I spend too much time on electronic media, most notably: Facebook, emails, and Amazon. Do I really need to know what the sister of my best friend in sixth grade is up to? How many times a day is too many times to see if Airfare Watchdog has found me a cheap flight to my desired destination when, in the two years that I've been watching, they've found ZERO? And how many books can I add to my Wish List in one day (quite a few as it turns out)? * I demand of mys...

Last week, I introduced my plan to work through the exercises in a little book called The Highly Sensitive Person's Companion by Ted Zeff  (if you missed it, you can read it here) . Before we jump into our first assignment, let's talk a little bit about introverts and "highly sensitive people." There seems to be some widespread misconceptions of what it means to be an introvert. People often define it as being shy or having social anxiety or worse, being self-absorbed. These descriptions simply aren't true. Extroverts can also be shy, have social anxiety, and can definitely be self-absorbed! Simply stated, introverts are internally stimulated, and they internalize external stimuli. Virtually everything is stimulating to an introvert! To bring it home, here are a few questions to which introverts/highly sensitive people would answer yes: * Do crowds exhaust you? * Do you tend to think before acting? * Is your body sensitive to alcohol and caffeine? * Does no...

After nearly 54 years in this body, I have recently embarked on a quest to learn how to live with it in peace. Hope that this is possible began to stir in me two and a half years ago when I read, Quiet: The Power of Introverts in a World That Can't Stop Talking by Susan Cain. Since reading Quiet , I've had innumerable conversations, hours of pondering, and read additional articles, blogs, and books on the subject. These have led me to an entirely new term, "highly sensitive person (HSP)." I'm not exactly a fan of that particular term because it connotes weakness, but since no one asked for my opinion, I guess I'll learn to live with it.  In contradiction to how I first perceived the term, it actually refers to someone who is hyper-sensitive to light, sound, touch, taste, and/or smell (NOT someone who is an emotional weakling). HSPs (also known as sensory-defensives), like introverts, are easily over-stimulated because of their heightened sensitivity to...

Hi. My name is Lori, and I'm a perfectionist. Over the past thirty-two years of marriage to a non-perfectionist, I have grown and softened. I've relaxed. I've learned. I am not as addicted to perfection as I once was, but it's a lifelong struggle. As you might imagine, perfectionistic tendencies can be a source of anxiety and stress. I've noticed that those of us from Perfect Country vary in what we deem as needing perfection. For me, it's my home. For the past couple of months, our weekends have been full. Add that to a full work-week, and you get the present state of my home: dirty and sporting a to-do list the likes of which makes me nauseous (almost literally). This past weekend was the doughnut hole in our busy spring/summer line-up. Other than a girls' night out on Friday night and a graduation party on Saturday night, the weekend was ours! What to do? Where to start? I tingled with the excitement of knowing that our house would soon once again be ou...

Do you remember what the officiant said at your wedding? At any wedding? Neither do I. At least, I don't remember most of them - my own and my children's included - but I do remember one. Though I now attend a non-denominational church, I was raised Catholic. And not just a little Catholic. We were very Catholic. Perhaps other denominations celebrate Easter and Easter week as enthusiastically as Catholics, but I think they'd be hard-pressed to beat them (as if it's a competition): we went to church on Holy Thursday. We stayed inside between noon and 3:00 on Good Friday. We attended church on Friday, Saturday night, and Sunday morning. I loved the solemnity. I loved the celebration. I loved the traditions. I loved remembering what our faith was all about. Those days were always set aside. We did nothing but Holy Week during Holy Week, and I continued that tradition, as best I could, with my own family. Then two years ago, I was invited to a wedding that would take pl...

My daffodils. Every year they begin to poke their little heads out of the ground in February. Some years they go so far as to fully bloom in the middle of winter only to have a major dumping of snow plopped on their beautiful, cheerful, bright yellow skin. I can't even remember when I planted these bulbs, but the tulips I planted with them stopped coming up years ago. The daffodils, much to my pleasure, refuse to follow suit. For a number of years now, only a few of these narcissus beauties have bloomed. I've tried dividing them, planting them deeper, fertilizing, and massive mulching, but nothing I did resulted in more blooms even though the plants themselves seemed to multiply and take more ground. I'd pretty much come to the conclusion that it was time to dig them up and start over with fresh bulbs. Then came the long hard winter. Sleet, snow, and ice along with below normal temps abounded for a longer-than-normal length of time this year. February came and went w...