A Thanksgiving to Remember

   Sometimes I think the really happy memories we have and remember...don't really start out so happy! Sometimes, it starts out stressful or tragically wrong and then somehow...it all works out and you remember it as if looking through rose colored memory glasses. Then that awful moment becomes funny, amusing, and a treasured memory. Or, maybe that is a crazy coping mechanism that I have developed and if that is so...then I thank God in heaven on high that I possess that crazy gift!

My husband and I are what you may refer to as..."competitive holiday cooks" or  "bossy-get-the-hell-outta-my-kitchen" types! We literally have to take turns with our holiday cooking..."You may have Thanksgiving and I will have Christmas!" to which the other person will respond "And, I will watch you and critique your every move at Thanksgiving and you will micromanage the Christmas Spirit right out of me!" In the picture above it is my turn to cook but as you can see...HE is in my kitchen...and he can't decide whether to finish washing his hands or choke me!       The particular Thanksgiving I remember and am thankful for started out awful...the middle was awful but like a great three act play...had a great finish!        My husband was being picky, bossy, and testy. At least that is how I remember it! I was having a difficult time...I was menopausal and the doctor thought a bit of Zoloft would help. It didn't unless my crying at the drop of a hat was an improvement over say...picky, bossy, and testy! The Hubby was hovering which was making me nervous...and I had 15 for dinner and a complicated menu. I wanted him out of the kitchen...and I wanted him to read my mind and take out the kitchen trash...without you know coming into the kitchen. He finally had had enough of my mood and snapped back...which I accepted all wounded warrior like. When my guests including my Mother, Grandmother,and Father arrived. The tension in the air was significant and everyone felt it. I was holding onto my tears with a feather-like grip. My father took one look at both of us and said " Boy, is she giving you a hard time?" And.I.burst.into.tears! leaving all the guests, all 15 of them ...and running into my bedroom...crying hysterically! My father saying to anyone who would listen "What did I say?" What did I say?"       I cried for only a few minutes...when in walked my mother and grandmother who did not say anything...just hugged me. I kept saying that I didn't know what was wrong with me over and over...They both said it will be okay. I cried and cried. I finally called in my oldest son who conveniently had just turned 21. I handed him a $20 and said go get me a bottle of wine. "What kind?" he said helplessly. "Any kind. Just make it a white wine!" (And that day marked the first day that I drank wine with dinner at Thanksgiving...which now has become a lovely tradition.) But the memory I have that makes me so very thankful...was that at my worst...snotty nosed mess...my mother and grandmother showed me such love! That out of the awful "how do I get out of this bedroom with all my guests in the other room" feeling was resolved with my grandmother, mother and I walking in arm and arm and greeting everyone with...A Happy Thanksgiving!

There are Five Books That have Changed Me

  There are five books that have changed the course of my life at different pivotal  moments. They transformed my thinking and doing... three of then profoundly so, at least in my mind. Ask yourself what books have changed you, transformed your thinking...and moved you to action. These are my books, I was surprised by the list...but this is my list. 

My first book came to me by way of my husband, during a very difficult period...what I thought was the end of our love affair. While we were both really nice people who happened to be Christians...we were in fact two Christians who were not nice to one another and we were unhappy, desperately so unhappy. We were separated with the emphasis on separate. We no longer lived together and I was heartbroken. 

Out of the blue, I mean not expected at all... my very much "separate from me" husband appeared at my work with two bag lunches in hand. My co-workers were concerned that I was leaving to go with him...not because they thought he would harm me but because they did not want to see me hurt further. I am not sure why I agreed to go with him...there was a kindness in his eyes I hadn't seen in a long time.

We sat in silence for awhile, awkward silence... awkward, awkward silence! Finally, he spoke. He told me he had listened to an interview of Gary Chapman on the radio. He is an author who had written The Five Love Languages: How to Express Heartfelt Commitment to your Mate.  I was stunned into silence. My two biggest complaints in our marriage were that he did not value our marriage and that he acted like he didn't love me. Not only had he made me lunch, he bought the book and suggested we have lunch together everyday and read this book together. And that is what we did.

He would show up each day, having made two bag lunches and wait while I finished up what I was doing...we would go to a park which was close to where I work and eat and discuss and read the book. There were a lot of hurt feelings on both our parts and discussing this wasn't easy...but we did it.

The premise of the book is that we all express love differently. This way of expressing love, our love language is learned from how our parents expressed love to us as a child. Obviously, couples are raised in different homes and many times we are "speaking" different love languages. We had different unspoken expectations of each other and we had failed to express love to each other in a way the other could recognize it.

The five love languages are: Physical Touch, Words of Affirmation, Gifts, Quality Time, and Acts of Service. In reading this book together we discovered why when I would buy him something and he would criticize me for spending money...I would be wounded; why when he fixed something for a neighbor while my "broken whatever" remained broken...I became furious! We knew instantly that when I had made a joke in public at his expense why he became distant...AND when we stopped touching each other...why we had separated!

My love languages are Gifts and Acts of Service...that is how I give and receive love. And Bob tries daily to learn this new language. Bob's are Words of Affirmation and Physical Touch...and I am getting really good at these! This book...Gary Chapman's written words changed the direction of my marriage and the course of my life! 

What Five Books changed your life? My next Book...Serendipity Bible for Small Groups!

 

Five "Ronda Changing" Books

Some(one) I Am Thankful For...

I could write for days about what I am thankful for..."My blessings" are many. I immediately think of my grandchildren but then I would need to start at my children...without children I wouldn't have grandchildren. When I think of children I think of my husband...without husband...no children. Well, for me that was how it worked! But...when I think of my husband...I think of my parents and how supportive they have been all my life. I didn't realize how supportive until I think of myself as a VERY young girl, ME wanting to marry equally young guy...back to husband! Husband it is.

My husband is kind, thoughtful, handsome, sensitive, loving, and hardworking...most of the time. Sometimes, he is a jerk. Even then he is my best friend. It has not been an easy marriage. We have worked hard at our marriage. While that is not romantic sounding...it is the truth. And...that is what I am thankful for: That I have married someone who loves me in spite of knowing all the truth about me. He knows me and yet, still loves me.

Bob has seen me at my most awful. I mean God awful...and I don't mean "Woke up, Bad breath awful" although he has seen me that way! I mean broken. Sniveling and full of despair. Lost and without faith. He knows every secret. ( No...he is not Santa!) He knows every bad thing that I have ever done or said. ( I promise he is not Santa)
And...still he reaches for me in the night.

I have forgiven him of much and would forgive him of anything...because he has forgiven me. I will never take our messy, crazy love story for granted! We have worked for it and it is ours and ours alone.

I am most thankful for my husband, Bob.

Trying to be Grace...

Which is easier for you to do... Seek forgiveness or To Forgive? Pick one and then ponder why?

 My husband and I are opposites in this area. He struggles to seek forgiveness but yet he is the most forgiving person I know. He never holds a grudge...never. He struggles to seek forgiveness but he does do the work. I am quick to be sincerely sorry but ...I struggle to forgive others. I revisit past wrongs and like a hot iron...I don't touch them. it takes me awhile to forgive and ...forget.

It is amazing to me as a believer to realize that gift of grace is given so freely to me as a child of God. Humbling... I have learned so much watching my husband and then myself struggle differently with this issue. I think as we struggle to show grace to others and to ourselves then that is where God's love manifests itself tangibly in our lives. If you can do the difficult thing with God's help...then you truly understand the gift that has been given to you.

So, today...Who do you need to forgive? or Who do you need to seek forgiveness from? I pray that you find reconciliation and forgiveness no matter which side you are on! I pray that you will be patient with yourself and others as you experience God's grace while understanding that it is a process of sanctification...it might sting a bit...but so worth it! We can all be graceful...some of us trip and fall down more than others...but we can get back up again.



2 Timothy 4:7 I have fought a good fight, I have finished the race, and I have remained faithful.

Bleep..Bleepity...Bleep

"What's in a name? That which we call a rose
By any other name would smell as sweet."

Juliet from Romeo and Juliet

I have quit swearing as a New Year's Resolution for 32 years in a row. I am not very good at it...I mean not swearing. I am good at swearing. I am not good at not swearing. I blame the British.You see, as a formative teenage girl, I lived in England. And in England...everyone swears all day long. At least that is what I remember and that is when it started for me. I still admire anyone who can  confidently let forth with a good, properly placed expletive...if you must swear...say it with gusto and bravado!

 Have you ever bumped into someone accidentally? You didn't mean to...you just found yourself trying to occupy the same spot as the other person at the same moment. I involuntarily apologize...always! Now, granted I am a "serial apologist" but that is another blog post. Recently...I did bump into a young woman and I immediately said  "I am so sorry" I tend to do that as well! I am never just sorry...I am so sorry! The young woman replied... (this is good) she replied "WTF" ... she said "What the F&$#!"  I smiled because while rude...it was funny. I then said "That would be me, I would be the "What the F&$#!" and as I walked away I could hear her saying "Oh God I am so sorry!"

Not five minutes later standing in line...two woman stood talking. One woman was telling the other a story and as she veered towards the climatic conclusion of her tale the other woman responded with " Are you "$hi&&ing me?" and the other gal said "I $hi&" you not!"  For some reason at the time and even now...I think "Wouldn't it be funny to have that in a Shakespearean play?"

When I turned 50, my daughter went with me for me to get a tattoo. She had exactly the one I wanted and where I wanted it. She said that it did not hurt that much...she said something about bee stings. Now, I was having them put an Ichthus, the Christian symbol on my foot. A large man sat behind me getting a very large tattoo on his large bicep. He smiled, further proof this would be easy-peasy! As we started I said such swear words that people thought I had Tourette syndrome. Every time he stopped inking...I would apologize. "I am so sorry!" and when he would begin...I would start swearing, again. I remember my daughter clearly saying "Oh Momma, No!" It was all over in 10 long minutes. The man getting the large tattoo said nothing but his smile said everything. The tattoo artist made some remark about irony and I just got the "HE double hockey sticks" out of there! If it didn't hurt so much...I would get a St Peter's Rooster on my other foot!

Last week my daughter was telling me, over the phone about something that had happened as I rode in the car with my husband. He could only hear my side of the conversation. As I said "Huh!" He started to laugh...and then said "You know when you say Huh...You really mean WTF!" And it was true...I have started using other phrases instead of my go-to swear words. I say "Whhhhyyyy?" instead of "F&$#" and "Pooooooop" instead of "$hi&" and I shake my head and say "Bless your heart!" for "You are an "A$$"  It is my hope that my legacy for my grandchildren will not be..."The grandmother who swore like a drunken sailor on shore leave!" but rather a kinder, gentler version of me! I shall keep trying...

It would seem others have a problem with swearing, too. You hear it all the time! It does bother me that others swear but not as much as it should though...I should be shocked, horrified, and so...disappointed. Since, I am giving up swearing ( I am.) I approach swearing much like a person who has given up smoking does second hand smoke...I inhale deeply. I wish there was a group similar to AA. It could be called SA, Swearing Anonymous. And we could admit that we are helpless over our addiction to a properly placed swear word. We would admit that we have harmed others in our use of those words and we would make amends to those we have harmed...Yes...we could.

 "Huh!"
 


2 Timothy 4:7 I have fought a good fight, I have finished the race, and I have remained faithful.

Stayin' Alive at 55

"The afternoon knows what the morning never suspected."
~Robert Frost


I have a birthday coming up and for the first time ...it "stings a bit"! I usually take  birthdays in stride sometimes with excitement, I mean birthdays are exciting! I am, however finding this one to be difficult to be excited about. I will be 55 years old. Most days I don't feel 55 years old...at least what I thought 55 would feel like. I have been asking myself goofy questions like "Do 55 years old's do that?"  "Would a 55 year old wear that?" "How should I act at 55?" "I suppose, I should grow up now...buckle down and get a real job!" (actually, it is way past time for that one)

It seems natural at this kind of a "milestone age" or is that "millstone age" that an inventory of such happens.I am not normally a person who looks back at life and ruminates mistakes and yet, I have caught myself doing that. What if I had done this instead of that ? Would it have been different? Pointless...you think, and ...yet?

Normally, while I can be an emotional and a passionate person...I can also be a very logical and a list making kind of a girl. "Can I still call myself a "girl" at 55?"..... Yesterday, rather than shoo these feelings aside with a "you-shouldn't-feel-this-way" mantra...I decided to ride this tide of emotions out?  I made  a list of everything I had deemed a "mistake" and I set about thinking about not just what had happened but my actions that had led up to it. Then I listed the other choices I could have made, those paths not taken by me. I had prepared myself for a really awful afternoon, a pity party peppered with an afternoon of cold regret. I was surprised. Yes, I had made some mistakes but not as many as I had first thought. And when I considered the other choices I could have made given the information that I had at the time and with the proverbial...What I know now insight! It wasn't so bad...not nearly as bad or as difficult as I thought it would be. Hindsight is 20/20. I have done okay...so far! I am actually very grateful for my life and all the great opportunities I have had.

Turning 55 next week will be fun after all...in fact...my husband and my best friend have already done it! And did it well! We will be in Florida with my family having a barbecue pool party and I will be thinking about how blessed I am and ..."What kind of a bathing suit does a 55 Year old wear?"




2 Timothy 4:7 I have fought a good fight, I have finished the race, and I have remained faithful.

My Mother, the Warrior

"The Supreme art of war is to subdue the enemy without fighting."

"Appear weak when you are strong, and strong when you are weak."

~ Sun Tzu, The Art of War


 My first inkling that my mother wasn't nearly as dumb as I thought she was came later than sooner, which lets you know just how dumb I am. I should have know she wasn't dumb when she out maneuvered me in every covert operation I ever tried to do. I was a good teenager because frankly... I knew I couldn't get away with anything. My mother is the brains behind my parent's partnership and my father does the heavy lifting. My mother parented by gathering Intel and then turning it over to the FBI
 ( Father Believing to be In charge). But...it wasn't until I had my first child that I realized she knew everything and I knew nothing...

It seems silly now that I had thought my mother weak, I thought because she would not engage my father in arguing that she was not strong. I remember thinking, as a teenager while he verbally assailed my mother in an argument that I felt I could have easily won ..."Fight back...Mom!"  This underestimate of my mother's tactics was my undoing. I did not, nor did my father realize that my mother had already won the battle. We did not understand she had out maneuvered him and he was just poorly negotiating his defeat. I am my father's daughter and I am proud of him...and while my father has actually been to war, it is my mother who could have written The Art of War. She gathers her Intel while never divulging her source. Her interrogation methods put our entire Homeland Security to shame and she always, always chose her battles carefully.

All of this...I realized after the birth of my first child. The feeling of holding your child in your arms and knowing that you are inadequate for the task...is a humbling moment. The deceptive weight of a new born in your arms...how could something so small...weigh so heavy on your being? The realization in that moment that my mother took care for me, kept me safe, nurtured me, prayed for me and all the while she battled dark forces including those parts of my worst nature. She did all of this faithfully with God's help...She fought the good fight! She gave me the example that I tried to follow but often...I wished I had read her copy of The Art of War.

 Happy Mother's Day, Mom!




2 Timothy 4:7 I have fought a good fight, I have finished the race, and I have remained faithful.