Must. Snap. Crackle. Pop.

Today is the last page of Chapter One in my book of Opportunity and I’m giving you fair warning.

If you came to my blog today to read something inspiring, something that will touch your heart, or something that will make you contemplative about life, you might want to stop reading now.

Instead,  today I feel very silly.  Maybe it’s because it’s the last day of January.  February is such a shorty, so that means March will arrive soon enough and a hint of spring will be in the air by then.  Maybe I’m feeling lighthearted because the sunshine has been delightful today.  I don’t know – I just know I must write about something whimsical and fun.

So here goes! First of all, I learned some fascinating trivia about this day.  Did you know that famous composer Franz Schubert was born on January 31, 1797?

Go Google him if you don’t know who he was and listen to some of his music.  He is famous for his “Unfinished Symphony (No 8)” – unfinished because he died of typhus in his hometown, Vienna, Austria at the age of 31.

One hundred years later, a $10,000 prize was offered to anyone who could “finish” the unfinished symphony, but the offer was withdrawn when a huge protest broke out over the idea.   So Shubert’s unfinished business remains unfinished.

If classical music isn’t your thing, maybe you’d like to know that today is also the birthday of Justin Timberlake, the former lead singer of the pop band N’Sync (a group that my two daughters positively swooned over when they were much younger!).   Timberlake, who kissed his boy band career “bye, bye, bye” to become an actor and solo performer, was born January 31, 1981 in Memphis, Tennessee.

It seems to me that this young man, who turns 30 today and calls himself “more spiritual than religious,” has strayed pretty far from his roots as the grandson of a Baptist minister.  Perhaps he too has some “unfinished business.”

Here’s another tidbit to store in your trivia bank.  On this day in 1940, Ida May Fuller of Ludlow, VT, received the first ever Social Security monthly retirement check in the amount of $22.54.   Social Security was established in 1935 and Fuller only worked for three years under the Social Security program.

This one will slay you – she paid only $24.75 into the system, but she lived to be 100 years old and collected $22,888 total in Social Security benefits.  For her, “unfinished business” worked well, don’t you think?

And now for the pièce de résistance! (See, I am feeling whimsical today, I’m writing French, a language I know very little!)  Drum roll, please…..

Today, January 31, is “Bubble Wrap Appreciation Day!”  Oh yeah, according to Sealed Air Corporation (the company that makes the snap, crackle and pop packaging product), today is the day “to celebrate the joy that Bubble Wrap® brings to our lives. A day to learn the history and snapping etiquette and to gain a new appreciation of the country’s favorite shipping material (invented in 1960).  Also, a day to snap and share Bubble Wrap® with coworkers, classmates and loved ones.”

Now if that doesn’t rock your socks off, nothing will!  Apparently, I missed the 50^th birthday celebration of this amazing product – it was last year.  But I’ll tell you, I think bubble wrap is the coolest thing.  I cannot see a scrap of it and resist popping every last one of those little air-filled bubbles.  It just calls my name, you know?

If I was younger, I’d even enter the “Annual Bubble Wrap Competition for Young Inventors.”  For real!  For the last few years, kids are encouraged to design products using bubble wrap for usage other than the typical packaging routine.  Past inventions have included a bubble wrap car door cover, a bubble wrap “cushy” wheelchair and a “Transformable Bubble Wrap Kite.”

But wait!  I have even more intriguing information to impart to you!  Sealed Air realizes that popping bubble wrap is a great stress reliever, so the company’s corporate offices actually have “stress relief boxes” filled with their product for employees to snap, crackle and pop.   I want to work there!!!

Maybe someone from that company will read my blog and want to hire me!  I’ve even written an ode to my favorite packaging product to show my devotion and help my cause:

I love you bubble wrap,

Oh yes I do

The way you  pop and snap

When I press you.

You are addicting,

It’s true.

Oh, bubble wrap I love you!

Admit it, now you want to go find a piece of bubble wrap so you can smash all those little fun-provoking bubbles.  Well, dear reader, since I am not one to burst your bubble, here are some websites to visit where you can virtually pop some air:

www.virtual-bubblewrap.com/popnow.shtml

www.snapbubbles.com

And whatever you do, don’t miss visiting www.bubblewrapfun.com   - the official bubble wrap site from Sealed Air Corporation.   There’s all kinds of snappy stuff there.

As for me, I have some “unfinished business” to attend to myself.  I’m pretty certain I squirreled away a piece of bubble wrap I found when hubby and I cleared out the chaos in the basement.

Must. Find. Bubble wrap.  Happy popping!!

©2011 mamasemptynest.wordpress.com

Eye of the storm

Image by George Stojkovic via freedigitalphotos.net

It’s quiet at our house today.   That’s nothing new.  Country living contributes to the lack of noise.

The stillness of the winter season makes it even quieter.  Snow blankets the ground and continues to fall each day.   We’re not really getting socked in with the snow storms other areas of the country have received, just a steady diet of the white stuff.

Our calico kitty hates the snow – won’t set one pretty paw in it.  So she passes her days nestled up in a furry ball, soundly sleeping in a few of her favorite spots around the house.  Even she seems subdued though,  content to just lounge and rest and occasionally utter her pathetic-sounding tiny “meee-ahh” when she desperately wants a kitty treat.

Of course, the empty-nesthood that is our home is noiseless except when hubby turns on the television to catch a favorite show or watch his James Bond movies on DVD.  So it seems incongruous that in the seeming tranquility of our home, I feel as though we are entrenched in the midst of a ferocious storm.

It’s not a physical storm that threatens us; it is a storm of disconcerting circumstances.  But that doesn’t make it any less painful or frightening or discouraging.  The suddenness of storms and the intensity of thunder, lightning, or bursts of gale-like winds often unnerve us.

Our middle daughter has always been terrified of storms.  When she was very young we lived in “Tornado Alley” in the Midwest and a sudden onset of thunder would send her scurrying for the safety of Mom or Dad’s arms.   If a storm brewed up during the night, her little body shot out of her bed and before we could even react, she cringed between us in our bed, looking for a sanctuary from the storm.

That’s how I feel today, like I’m in a safe place, a sanctuary from the storm that hovers around us.  Somehow, we remain calm in the midst of this tempest.   It feels like what I imagine it would be like to float along in the eye of a hurricane.  All around are the threatening explosions of wind and rain, but in the eye is serenity.

The eye in our hurricane is the trust we have in our God, who is so much more powerful than any storm’s outburst could ever be.  We stand on our faith, centered on God because we know as believers in Christ Jesus, we are the apple of God’s eye.  And in His eye is peace.

I know this is what He wants me to learn today in Chapter One, Page 29, in my book called Opportunity.  I know this with certainty because He has confirmed that through the written word and in song.  All day, the music box part of my mind has been playing “I’ll Praise You in This Storm,” a song by Casting Crowns.

And then I opened up the inbox of my email account to find an encouraging devotional sent to me by a far-away but very dear friend.  The title of the uplifting story was….you guessed it… “Praise Him in the Storm.”

Are you troubled today?  Is there a storm brewing around you too?  Listen to the words of this song.  No matter our circumstances, God is always there to help us through.  May you find you can praise God also in the middle of your tempest.

©2011 mamasemptynest.wordpress.com

A reward that’s better than a pony

I wonder if some of the most famous American innovators ever spun their wheels.

I imagine Thomas Edison, the Wizard of Menlo Park, diligently working away in his laboratory devising various mechanisms to see what worked best at bringing his inventions to reality.  I can’t really imagine him just toodling around his workshop idling meandering from one thing to another and not completing a darn thing.

I think about people like Benjamin Franklin, Alexander Graham Bell, Henry Ford and countless other famous inventors.   As they tinkered, designed, contemplated and planned, I wonder how they handled days when they didn’t accomplish much.   They surely must have had “one of those days” when they didn’t achieve what they set out to do that day.

Great minds like theirs must have been sharply focused.  How else could they bring their ideas to fruition?  Alexander Graham Bell once stated, “Concentrate all your thoughts upon the work at hand. The sun’s rays do not burn until brought to a focus.”

Focus wasn’t one of my strong points today.  I just spent several hours at my job and I felt like a whirling dervish – spinning around and around but not really accomplishing much.  Days like today really grate on my nerves.  I’m one of those task-driven individuals.   I like lists and I really like crossing things off the lists.

I don’t know who said “A person who aims at nothing is sure to hit it” but I wholeheartedly agree.  That’s why days when I get easily distracted or sidetracked leave me feeling irritated.  I don’t like aiming at nothing.  I want to place the target in my cross-hairs and blast the thing.  Boom.  Done.  Finished.  That’s how I roll.

My aim on my target was off today.  Too many distractions, too many interruptions, too much activity going on in my office, too much to accomplish.  I’m not sure on which to hang the blame for my inability to focus today.

Motivational speaker and writer Denis Waitley says, “Don’t dwell on what went wrong. Instead, focus on what to do next. Spend your energies on moving forward toward finding the answer.”  That seems like sound advice to me.

I’m pretty certain my husband is working on that theory at the present time, moving forward trying to find an answer.  He says he’s still looking for his pony.  If that statement totally confuses you, I’m not surprised.  Allow me to enlighten you.

My husband once met the late Ronald Reagan, two-term President of the United States.  A picture of them shaking hands graces a wall in my husband’s office.  So, according to something my hubby recently read, the pony idea comes from a story Reagan loved to tell.

Peter Robinson, Reagan’s speechwriter, wrote a book entitled, How Ronald Reagan Changed My Life.  The following is an excerpt from his book:

The Pony In the Dung Heap:  When Life Buries You, Dig – Journal Entry, June 2002.  Over lunch today I asked Ed Meese about one of Reagan’s favorite jokes. “The pony joke?” Meese replied. “Sure I remember it. If I heard him tell it once, I heard him tell it a thousand times.”

The joke concerns twin boys of five or six. Worried that the boys had developed extreme personalities — one was a total pessimist, the other a total optimist — their parents took them to a psychiatrist.

First the psychiatrist treated the pessimist. Trying to brighten his outlook, the psychiatrist took him to a room piled to the ceiling with brand-new toys.  But instead of yelping with delight, the little boy burst into tears. “What’s the matter?” the psychiatrist asked, baffled. “Don’t you want to play with any of the toys?” “Yes,” the little boy bawled, “but if I did I’d only break them.”

Next the psychiatrist treated the optimist. Trying to dampen his outlook, the psychiatrist took him to a room piled to the ceiling with horse manure. But instead of wrinkling his nose in disgust, the optimist emitted just the yelp of delight the psychiatrist had been hoping to hear from his brother, the pessimist. Then he clambered to the top of the pile, dropped to his knees, and began gleefully digging out scoop after scoop with his bare hands. “What do you think you’re doing?” the psychiatrist asked, just as baffled by the optimist as he had been by the pessimist. “With all this manure,” the little boy replied, beaming, “there must be a pony in here somewhere!”

“Reagan told the joke so often,” Meese said, chuckling, “that it got to be kind of a joke with the rest of us. Whenever something would go wrong, somebody on the staff would be sure to say, ‘There must be a pony in here somewhere.’”

No doubt, Ronald Reagan loved to tell this story because he was such an optimist.  I think it’s a great story to personify focus as well.  When life hands us manure as it often does, we’ve got to keep looking for the pony – the very thing that makes going through the manure worth the effort.  That must be our focus.

And that thought reminds me of scripture.  So today as I near the end of Chapter One in my book of Opportunity, on this 27^th page,  God reminds me:  “But one thing I do: Forgetting what is behind and straining toward what is ahead,  I press on toward the goal to win the prize for which God has called me heavenward in Christ Jesus.” ~ Philippians 3:13-15 (New International Version)

Even if I feel like I might be just spinning in circles, when my focus is on God, He has a better reward than a pony.

©2011 mamasemptynest.wordpress.com

A fortune worth its weight in gold

Image via wikipedia.com

Some people throw them away, some just don’t like those crispy half-moon shaped treats that signal the end of a Chinese food fest. 

I always eat my fortune cookie because I think the crunchy little munchie is tasty.

Although I don’t put any stock in the “fortunes” told on the tiny strip of paper inside the cookie, I do get a kick out of reading them.

Sometimes they’re funny, sometimes too generic and boring, but I still crack open the cookie to see what is stuffed inside.

I find it interesting that fortune cookies, according to Wikipedia.com, are mostly served as dessert following a Chinese meal here in the United States but not in China.  The Wikipedia article cites fortune cookies as being “introduced by the Japanese, popularized by the Chinese, but ultimately they are consumed by Americans.”   Apparently we eat the largest quantities of this crispy little goodie made of flour, sugar, vanilla and oil and about 3 billion fortune cookies are made every year.

So I’m one of those American consumers who has eaten her fair share.  When oldest daughter was a kiddo, we tried making our own fortune cookies.  They weren’t bad but not as tasty as the ones placed in front of us at our favorite Chinese restaurants.  We had more fun creating the fortunes to go inside than actually making the cookies.

So why am I writing about fortune cookies anyway?  I cleaned out my desk the other day.  Really cleaned it out – every drawer, threw out all the non-working pens and pencil stubs, old calendars and past planner pages, lots of junk.  Why do we save little gizmos and broken pieces?  If I haven’t looked for them or fixed the broken whatever by now, guess what?  I’m not going to!

I’m happy to report it was a successful cleansing.  I can now actually not only see the top of my desk but use it to pay bills, write a letter or even type away on my laptop on it.  Yes, that clean!

While purging the mess, I came across a tiny slip of paper tucked into scraps of notes stuffed into the back of my daily planner.  You guessed it – the strip of paper proved to be a gem of wisdom from a fortune cookie.

“Your faith carries you through difficult times.”  Not your typical fortune cookie fare.  Obviously, that’s why I kept that small scrap.

Some difficult times have bombarded me the last few years, nothing unbearable, (although at times it sure felt that way!),  just unnerving circumstances.  But the one constant I’ve held onto while making my way over the hurdles, through the snags, taking the lumps and bumps on my way has been my faith.

I am not an extraordinary person.  I have the same fears, problems, hang-ups, and sinfulness as every other person on this planet.  But I also have faith in an extraordinary God.

Sheila Walsh wrote in her book, Extraordinary Faith, that “God takes our fragile, flawed human hearts with all our hopes and fears and doubts, and weaves His goodness and strength into us.  Extraordinary faith comes from being in relationship with our extraordinary God.  It’s not about us; it’s all about Him.”

It is about God in us.  It’s about Him working in us to carry us through each challenging burden we face.  My tough times would defeat me if I didn’t have faith because I can’t summon up enough strength on my own to persevere.  God working in me is what powers my strength, His strength.

“God is our refuge and strength, an ever-present help in trouble.  Therefore we will not fear, though the earth give way and the mountains fall into the heart of the sea, though its waters roar and foam and the mountains quake with their surging.” ~ Psalm 46:1-3

That’s why today on Page 25, Chapter One, in my book of Opportunity, I write about fortune cookies, sharing what I’ve learned in hopes that others may come to know my extraordinary Savior Jesus Christ who will strengthen them with the kind of extraordinary faith to carry them through the difficult times.

“Let us fix our eyes on Jesus, the author and perfector of our faith, who for the joy set before Him endured the cross, scorning its shame, and sat down at the right hand of the throne of God.  Consider Him who endured such oppression from sinful men, so that you will not grow weary and lose heart.”  ~ Hebrews 12:2-3

©2011 mamasemptynest.wordpress.com

Despite Teddy, Here We Go!

If Theodore Roosevelt would have had his way, today the Pittsburgh Steelers wouldn’t be going to the Super Bowl! (Here we go, Steelers!)

Actually the Steelers or any other pro football team probably wouldn’t exist if the late President had succeeded with his plan to eliminate American football!

Way back in 1905, Roosevelt saw a picture of a college football player who had been viciously beaten during a game.  That prompted good old Teddy to take action.

He decided that the on-field brutality of football should be put to an end, and he was the means to do it.  He wanted to abolish football and intended to do so by executive decree.

Now keep in mind that back in the day, football players wore very little padding and weren’t required to even wear helmets.  Some of the plays led to slugfests and often the games ended in a free-for-all.

Concerned that 18 college players died during the 1905 season and 159 others were seriously hurt, Roosevelt met with football coaches from the big three – Harvard, Princeton and Yale.

The coaches agreed to change the rules of the game and focus more on speed rather than brute force.  And in 1906, a new innovation was born – the forward pass.   If college football had been abolished, how would today’s professional teams recruit players? Would pro teams even exist?

Imagine it, no American football.  No National Football League.  No AFC champion Pittsburgh Steelers team.  No Steeler Nation.  No Steel Curtain.  No Super Bowl. Unimaginable!

The fever’s intensified.  An entire city and surrounding areas are giddy with delirium.  It’s so darn contagious, even I wore black and gold and a Steelers necklace to church yesterday.

Here we go Steelers, here we go, Pittsburgh’s going to the Super Bowl!

©2011 mamasemptynest.wordpress.com

Sorry folks, January = Winter

According to my local newspaper today, people are already tired of winter.

Apparently some are even praying for it to end.

People, buck up!  We’ve only had one official month of winter.

December 21 heralds the beginning of the winter season and today is the 22nd page of Chapter One in my book of Opportunity.

That means there are still two months left of Ol’ Man Winter since spring doesn’t usher itself in officially until March.   And there are only nine days left in the wintry month of January, so soon I’ll be turning over a new chapter.

On this bitterly cold (brrr – our outside thermometer read minus 7 degrees this morning!) but brightly sunny day, I take the opportunity to be grateful for winter.   Most people might think I’m crazy, but I relish the snow.

I even like frosty temperatures.  Cold weather invigorates me and I love taking a walk in snowy weather so brisk it stings your face and makes your toes tingle.

I love coming back inside the house afterwards with rosy cheeks and after shedding layers of outer garments, burrowing down under a warm, wooly blanket to sip a steaming cup of tea and watch the snow silently descend across the countryside.  Call me strange, but that comforts me.

So here’s my tribute in photo and poetry to January.  Even though this month has brought some trouble and trials, it still gives me joy.

The snow fell gently all the night.  It made a blanket soft and white.  It covered houses, flowers and ground,  but did not make a single sound. ~ children’s poem by unknown

January opens the box of the year

And brings out days that are bright and clear.

And brings out days that are cold and gray,

And shouts, “Come see what I brought today!” ~ “January” by Leland B. Jacobs

Black are my steps on silver sod;

Thick blows my frosty breath abroad;

And tree and house and hill and lake

Are frosted like a wedding cake. ~ excerpt from “Winter Time” by Robert Louis Stevenson

Suddenly the sky turned gray, the day,

Which had been bitter and chill,

Grew soft and still.

Quietly from some invisible blossoming tree

Millions of petals cool and white

Drifted and blew,

Lifted and flew,

Fell with the falling night. ~ “Snow Towards Evening” by Melville Cane

I choose to be thankful for this beautiful season of winter.  Why?  Because it is God’s creation.  David wrote in the Psalms about it - “The day is yours, and yours also the night; you established the sun and moon.  It was you who set all the boundaries of the earth; you made both summer and winter.”~Psalm 74:16-17

Genesis 8:22 ~ “As long as the earth endures, seed time and harvest, cold and heat, summer and winter, day and night will never cease.”

©2011 mamasemptynest.wordpress.com

Beware! Fever sweeps the area!

Warning!  A strange and infectious epidemic has quickly overtaken my neck of the woods.

This peculiar ailment seems to have infected a huge segment of the population here and few people are immune to it.

Word has it that this disorder actually has spread beyond our borders into pockets of communities all over the country as well.

A highly contagious fever accompanies this affliction and many appear to be defenseless against the insanity it causes.  Beware, or you too may be affected by this raging contagion.  It reportedly has consumed the air waves - TV, radio and even the internet, including email, Facebook and YouTube, are already infected.

This frenzied fever encompasses its victim’s mind and body.  It appears to possess people’s brain functions to the point of apoplexy where the fever is all one can think or talk about, so evidently, this condition has highly addictive properties.

In an effort to educate you about this widespread virus, here is a list of symptoms you should watch for:

• Heightened state of emotions;
• Excitability and/or delirium;
• Fanatical thoughts about the game of football;
• Obsessive behavior including the donning of only black and gold colored clothing;
• Irrational and compulsive spending on non-essential trinkets, clothing, jewelry, purses, blankets, flags or tote bags with a particular logo emblazoned on item;
• Compulsive desire to adorn your body, home, car, desk or anything within sight with black and gold paraphernalia;
• Assuming the identity of a pro football player by the wearing of a numbered black and gold jersey with said player’s name imprinted on back;
• Fixated thoughts about seven massive, elaborate rings;
• Spontaneously bursting into raucous rounds of singing “Here We Go”;
• Zealous preparation for hours of extreme tail-gating and/or party-going;
• Propensity to spend outrageous sums of money to acquire entrance into an arena  packed full of frenzied people;
• Entering a trance-like condition where you stand for hours in freezing cold weather conditions and/or snow to watch grown men engage in a game;
• Uncontrollable seizures in which your arm starts wildly waving a “terrible towel” non-stop to the point of paralysis;
• Intermittent fits of agitation and elation complete with intense screaming to the point of hoarseness or completely losing your voice.

If you display one of more of these symptoms in the next few days, you have indeed acquired the frenzied “Steelers Fever.”   There is no treatment; you must simply let the affliction run its course.

After Sunday, the fever either will dissipate and a state of depression will set in or the condition will accelerate wildly until February.

It appears my family has succumbed to this ubiquitous fever.  I’ll let you know the prognosis after Sunday.

For now, I must sing “Here We Go, Steelers!” and I have an uncontrollable urge to go find something black and gold in my closet.

©2011 mamasemptynest.wordpress.com

Memories and anniversaries of gold

Fifty years ago on this day I donned an ice-blue flouncy, fancy dress that stuck out like a ballerina’s tutu exposing my little stick legs.

Pale blue lacy socks and white straw shoes embellished with flowers dressed up my feet.  On top of my curled, bouncy hair rested a crown of flowers and ribbon.  In my white gloved tiny hands, I clutched a basket of red rose petals.

Fifty years ago today, I was six years old and couldn’t wait to fulfill the important duty I had.  Wedding day had arrived for my beloved oldest sister and her handsome young cowboy and I served as her flower girl.

I viewed my job of sprinkling rose petals down the church aisle for my beautiful sister-bride as a serious assignment.  Our mother had lovingly made, ironed and starched  a cloth aisle runner for the occasion, and I carefully deposited each flower petal, one at a time, just so on that avenue of pristine white.

That is one memory I have of my oldest sister’s wedding day.  I recall gazing with awe at her because she looked like a princess in her beautiful, lacy hoop-skirted bridal gown and fingertip veil.

I remember not being too pleased with brother-in-law’s little brother, the ring bearer, who in my eyes just did not know how to do anything properly.  I knew we should follow suit like the rest of the bridal party and depart the church sanctuary arm in arm after the ceremony ended.   He apparently did not, so I grabbed his arm (even though I disliked him) and marched him back down the aisle with me.

I remember it was oh, so cold that evening as we traveled to the reception hall where we ate cake and ice cream and drank punch.  Weddings were a lot simpler back then, no elaborate dinner menu, no live band or DJ spinning tune after tune, no over-the-top decorations, but what a fun party I thought it was!

And I remember that when it was time for my sister and her new husband to depart for their honeymoon, I couldn’t understand why they wouldn’t take me along!  I cried that night because my sister/bed buddy left me.

We lived in a two-bedroom house at the time and all three of us girls shared one bedroom.  Oldest sister and I also shared a bed and I missed her that night, so much that I took her high school senior picture to sleep with me.

It seems almost incomprehensible that 50 years have come and gone since that day.  But today my beloved sister and the man, whom I have come to love over all these years like a brother, are celebrating their golden wedding anniversary.

They have reached the golden years -  retirement.  As I write this, they are basking in the sunshine and warmth of a southwestern desert where they are enjoying a few months away from their home.  And I wish them a beautiful day.

I hope today they bask not just in the warmth of the sun, but also in the warmth of knowing they have accomplished much – 50 years of marriage, two loving daughters, grandchildren and a life together - not always perfect, full of ups and downs -  but still together for half a century.  How many American married couples reach that milestone?

On this day of golden anniversary wishes, my hope and prayer for them is that they may take a moment to reflect back on their five decades together and be thankful for each blessing they’ve been granted.

Happy 50^th Wedding Anniversary, beloved sister and brother!  May your hearts be filled with affection, contentment, peace and health.    I love you both so much!

I am very grateful for both of you on this 20^th page of Chapter One in my book of Opportunity.

©2011 mamasemptynest.wordpress.com

Stop fishing

Patience is not always my strong suit.  It’s a virtue that I’ve tried hard to develop over the years and I think I’ve succeeded somewhat.

When that overwhelming urge wells up in me to complain over the slowness of the checkout line, or the traffic ahead of me, I’ve learned to squelch it.  I silently ask myself what’s my big hurry?  Is waiting five more minutes going to make that much of a difference?  The answer is usually no.

But when I’m forced to wait for answers to the big deals in my life, I admit it isn’t so easy.  Currently, I’m in waiting mode.   My jet plane is flying in a holding pattern, just circling the landing strip, waiting for the signal that all is well, proceed to land.  And it’s not easy.

I heard a snippet of information today that made an impact on my way of thinking.   Corrie ten Boom survived the heinous Nazi concentration camps during World War II, and wrote the book, The Hiding Place.   She once commented that God cast our sins into the depths of the ocean and then posted a sign that read “No Fishing Allowed.”

I liked the visual picture her words painted for me.  And it prompted me to take this picture and apply it to my current holding pattern.   I think we can cast our anxieties into the depths of the ocean just like God throws our sin into the deep.

If God is majestic enough to take care of the tiniest piece of plankton or the smallest sea creature in that ocean, He can handle any problem I encounter.   He has the power to control the tides of the vast seas and if He is mighty enough to do that, He is powerful enough to wash my worries and concerns out to sea with the waves He commands.

But here’s where I must do my part.  Once I cast my cares on Him, into the ocean of His love and sovereignty, I need to stop fishing them back out.  Today on this 18^th page of Chapter One in my new book of Opportunity, I need to put down my fishing pole, pick up my Bible and wait for God’s perfect timing.

“Humble yourselves, therefore, under God’s mighty hand, that he may lift you up in due time.  Cast all your anxiety on him because he cares for you.” ~ 1 Peter 5:6-8 (New International Version)

©2011 mamasemptynest.wordpress.com

The music was there all along

Image via freedigitalphotos.net

Silence is not golden anymore.

I seem to write about songs quite often in my blog.  You might say the music channel switches on easily in my mind. 

Sometimes speaking a mere word immediately reminds me of lyrics and music to some tune.

It’s a gift, I think. Or maybe it’s like the ancient Greek philosopher Plato once said, “Music and rhythm find their way into the secret places of the soul.”

But even though music has always taken up permanent residence in some section of my brain, I very seldom listen to music any more.  I find that a remarkably strange conundrum and I am quite baffled over it because music has always inspired me, lifted my spirit and often brings me to tears.

I grew up in a household where music serenaded my ears.  My sisters and I all took piano lessons, so someone tickled the ivories almost every day.  And my family sang together at the piano often.

My mother listened to the radio daily as she performed her household chores and cooked home-made meals.  As a child, I awakened every morning to the sound of that radio playing in my mother’s kitchen.  My sisters kept the record player spinning, and I can still sing the lyrics to many golden oldies.

My dad, especially in his later years, possessed an extensive collection of tapes and CDs and passed many hours listening to his music.  My maternal grandmother sang melody after melody with me as we rocked our blues away together in her special chair.  A dear older friend of the family taught me how to sing alto and harmonize.

As a teenager and college student, music continued to maintain its importance in my life.  I listened to it; I bought it in the form of records or cassette tapes; I attended live concerts to experience it; I played it on piano, and I sang it.   Music wafted from my stereo or my car radio at all times.  I would even fall asleep to it.

For many of my adult years, I joined choirs, performed in church musical productions and continued playing the piano for enjoyment.  I attended orchestral concerts, operas, ballets, and live stage musicals.  When I became a mother, I taught songs to my children and listened to their music from piano lessons to chorus and band concerts.

But somewhere along the line, I stopped wanting to listen to music and preferred silence.  At home, I turned the radio on less frequently while I cleaned my house.  I seldom played the stereo and the shelves of albums, tapes and CDs became dust catchers.

Music sometimes even irritated me.  In the car, I rarely drive with the radio tuned in or a CD playing.  My husband downloaded songs he thought I would enjoy on an MP3 player for me, yet I hardly ever use it.

I’m mystified as to why the music in my life suddenly turned mute in the audible world, although it still resonates in my head at the drop of a hat.   Did my life become so stressful that silence was more agreeable to me than the lilting strains of a violin, the trills of piano keys, the strum of a guitar or the human voice in melodic song?

I don’t know, but I want my music back.  Today it was quiet in my office, too quiet.  My fellow staff members were cubbyholed into their own offices and the silence became unbearable to me, perhaps because there is so much of it in my home, the empty nest.

So for the first time ever in my office, I called up Pandora on the internet and devised my own radio station of songs on my computer.  For most of my work day, I actually listened to tunes while I worked and I hummed along and at times I even sang a little.

And I realized in my book of Opportunity on Page 17, Chapter 1 (January 17), that I’ve still got the music in me.

“Life is one grand, sweet song, so start the music.”  ~Ronald Reagan

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