Have you ever looked a picture of yourself and asked something along the line of, “is that what I look like?” Is it true that pictures don’t lie? Then I guess mirrors are deceptive. Or is my mind playing tricks on me? I have this theory that we don’t see ourselves as others see us. My theory goes beyond the physical.
In recent days and months I have been described as a perfectionist (gasp! not me!), quirky (the person who said this is head of the quirky is us club so I don’t give it much credence) and then as recent as yesterday someone said I am resilient. I must say this one has me perplexed even more than the others. Resilient…in my mind, resilient is what you call an object that can withstand being tossed around not lose its shape or form, like a tennis ball.
I believe the dictionary is my friend so I looked up the word resilient. It is defined as springing back, rebounding, returning to the original form or position after being bent, compressed or stretched. The word buoyant was also used in the description. The definition of buoyant is cheerful and optimistic. Now that is a word I can identify with.
Back to my theory…
If you made a list of 10 adjectives that describe you and had family, friends and foes do the same, how many common words would you find on the lists? I can tell you perfectionist, quirky and resilient would never had made it on my list.
A few months ago, after being encouraged/harassed by a friend, I joined a popular dating site. I did not walk away with a love connection but I did develop my theory and lots of supportive data. On the site I joined, you develop a self profile. What I was able to determine in a short amount of time is people wrote one thing but their lives didn’t necessarily reflect those words. Now being the buoyant person that I am, I chose to believe they weren’t being deceptive, but they believed what they saw in the mirror and had not taken a recent snapshot of their lives.
As I take a look at me from the perspective of other people, I still am not sure that I am resilient. I just press on in spite of obstacles and choices and circumstances. When I make it through to the other side of stretching situations, I hope the experience does not leave me the same but better. Resilient? Not really. Pliable? Definitely.
Christmas trees, candy canes, family, friends, laughter, food and fun are all the things that bring a smile to my face when I think of Christmas’ past. Seeing my cousins and playing a game of tag or pop the whip; watching my great-grandmother cook, sitting down to eat a feast fit for family are other childhood memories.
While I am thankful for those memories, today I am thankful I have full understanding of the reason to celebrate this day. Love sent love down to love me and you.
If you are of the faith that believes there is a heaven and hell once this life is over, I have questions for you. Is there a get into heaven free card when you die a tragic death? No matter your previous choice to believe or not, whether you wanted to be reincarnated or just wanted it all to end at the end. Do you make the list to get into heaven depending on how you die?
I ask these question because of posts on Facebook, the media and other conversations I have heard or had concerning recent tragedies. Everybody assumes the people who were victims of the senseless tragedies all went to heaven. Dare I say it is presumptuous of us to think the adults all wanted to go to heaven or the families of the children want them in heaven. Are the assumptions more about comforting those of us who are here and needing reassurance they are in a better place? Is this thought a disregard of other faiths as a result of arrogance? Or is it simply our default way of thinking and reacting?
I am sure there wasn’t any malicious intent. However, there doesn’t appear to have been the conscious acknowledgment that maybe, just maybe they wanted a different choice for their afterlife.
I was recently talking to a friend who described the excitement of figuring out a puzzle. I took those words and that excitement and created this poem. Enjoy!
Excitement and anticipation
Something new to explore
Conquer? Not really
Just wanting to experience more
Instincts and wisdom
Not just a game
Dare I open the box?
Take a look inside?
Taking my time
Touch all the pieces
One by one
I’m not in a rush
Piece by piece
Each one is unique
Inch by inch
Creating a new memory
It is almost complete
Built up tension released
Until the next time
The next quest
A new box or old box taken off the shelf
One of my favorite songs of the season is Mary did you know. I wonder what were some of the things Mary thought when Jesus was suckling and looking at her with a sweet smile.
Not every mother knows she will carry a baby that will change the world as an adult. Klara Hitler didn’t know. I’m sure she never dreamed of the tragedies that would occur at the hands of her baby boy. When she first felt him move and when she prayed he would not die in childhood as some of his siblings did, I’m sure she didn’t know.
When we as parents hold our breaths and wait for the first cry. When we smile broadly at the first steps. When we celebrate the milestones of childhood. When we shower our offspring with words of encouragement and rebuke, kisses and hugs, I’m sure we don’t know. We hope they will become productive citizens of society. We pray they will live a life that is reflective of our love. But, we don’t know.
My heart is heavy for the mother’s and father’s whose children don’t live a life that reflects the love they were given. I’m sure they didn’t know their children would grow up to kill a room full of children or a theater full of people or an airplane full of passengers. I’m sure they didn’t know.
At the same time that I grieve, I rejoice. I rejoice that Ruth Patton encouraged her son and that Barbara Bush supported her children and that Alberta King put a dream in her son’s heart early on. But I’m sure they didn’t know when they carried those babies they would grow into world changers.
Mary may have known some of the story but she didn’t know the entire story. As she watched her son grow into a man, I’m sure she didn’t know how his life would end and that his story and her story would be told and sung throughout the world.
Mary did you know?
As I was describing my date to a friend, she said, “excuse me while I remove the mic from my face” and commenced to laugh very loud for an extended period of time.
I’m glad I’m not easily offended.
The first time I saw him, I thought, he’s not bad-looking, he has all of his teeth, he’s clean and is well-groomed. We talked and laughed for hours. Within the first hour he asked me to marry him. I told him I needed to meet his mother first. He called her on his cell phone. She and I chatted about the holidays, what she was cooking and how to download music on an iPod. He and I exchanged numbers before I left.
A couple of days later, he sent me a text message asking me out on a date. (first flag) **Side note, I am trying to become more progressive but I really am old-fashioned when it comes to dating. I like my doors opened, I’m okay with him paying and I would prefer a phone call if you want to ask me out. Honestly, I would not allow honeygirl to go on a date with a guy who would not verbally ask her. The standard remains the same, forget progressive.**
The event itself was fine. He took me to a friend’s sister’s house for an intimate Christmas party. The party consisted of all of her close friends and me. Never one to turn away from a potentially awkward situation, I embraced the moment and turned on my social charm. He introduced me to everyone he knew as his fiancé. (1/2 flag, it was kind of funny) I soon left his side and began to talk with the other guests. All in all, I had a great time, talked with most of the other guests, heard some funny stories and considered it two hours well spent.
Mr. Wright told me on the drive back that I received an endorsement from one of the guests who described me as grounded, nice and a good catch. Special shout out to Mr. Oil and Gas and his lovely wife, Mrs. Oil and Gas.
I called my friend after dropping off Mr. Wright to discuss the date and for her to keep me company as I drove. I proceeded to tell her about the date and said I saw some red flags. I went on to tell her about the return ride conversation. He described the hostess and her friends as young and pretentious. The he said, I knew you would fit in, that’s why I invited you. (flag, did he just call me pretentious?) Let’s see if I can remember his next words. “Who cares about a degree? They aren’t worth the paper they are printed on most of the time!” (flag, I’m pretty sure I told him I was working on a Masters in education)
As we were approaching his final destination, I allowed him to listed to a live recording of my poem, I’m Better Than That. Let it sink in Mr. Wright. Let it sink in.
I loved this letter from my friend April to her four daughters. April is celebrating her 14th anniversary to her dear husband John. It is with her permission I am posting part of the blog and the link to the rest of the story.
As pinned by April…
To my sweet girls, today is our 14th wedding anniversary. I love your daddy so dearly and since anniversaries always make me feel introspective, I wanted to take a moment to write to you what is in my heart. I don’t feel qualified to offer marriage advice, especially in light of so many mistakes we’ve made, many of which you know and you’ve seen and if you haven’t yet, you will see them. But I do want to write this letter of encouragement to you first and foremost and also for anyone along the way that could be encouraged by these words.
Read the rest of the story by clicking this link- http://networkedblogs.com/FTfky