Category Archives: Musings

Salsa, super-powers, theWeez & other musings…

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I made salsa tonight. Pineapple/Jalapeño Chutney actually. First time I made it, I didn’t know it was a salsa until we started dipping chips into it & repeating. Over. And over.

My favorite part of making salsa isn’t the chopping of the peppers, onion, or pineapple. Nope. That is an exercise of survival, mentally willing myself to keep all of my fingers where they belong as I crudely attempt to chop the choppees into manageable sized pieces.

My favorite part is the simmering. I get to turn the heat to a semi-lo setting, and stir when I want. The bubbles that appear in the liquid bring out smells that make my stomach jump in anticipation. The mess is too hot to eat, but the anticipation of dipping a chip into the mess & cramming it into my face brings with it joy unmentionable.

But I shall wait until tomorrow evening when salsa shall be consumed in copious amounts, accompanied by chile-lime marinated chicken & fresh tortillas. And there will be great rejoicing.

I think I might have a super-power. It isn’t flying. Or being made of steel. Or plasticity. Or invisibility. I think I have the super power of being able to sense ingredients that would taste good together in a recipe. The funny thing is I can taste the combo ingredients in my head. Without having to actually taste them. I am “low-keying” my super-power, as I do not know how to control it yet.

Baseball has to be listened to on AM radio. FM (& stereo) is wrong. I declare.

I was at the church office taking care of some bidness; I caught the movement of a person entering the office out of the corner of my eye. A glance. It was a beautiful woman that I didn’t recognize. And then she spoke, “Hi Daddy!”

Oh.

“Hi myWeez.”

My eyes water.

Free time & other musings on a cloudy Tuesday…

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I have 40 minutes until I pick up my little big kids from school. Doesn’t seem like much, but I’ve chosen to steal time where I can get it – free time.

Life is beautiful, still. I will declare it. But it is also full. I have a dwindling yet still there built in margin that is constantly being threatened by the Pressing In. Life. Family happenings. Work responsibilities. Grad school. Bulletin board interactions. Forced reading & writing. Rinse. Repeat.

Free time. Time alotted for nothing but whatever I could find to give myself to. It is precious, & when i find it, like I have today, I treasure it, relish it like a teaspoon of crunchy peanut butter on a hot spoon, smothered in chocolate chips. Even if its just 40 minutes.

The Pasty Gangster called me just now – he had 10 minutes to kill, & thought of me. It has been 7 months, 9 days since we last interacted face to face. I’m hoping to be able to send theBean to see him soon; don’t know if it will work out for all of us to get there, but if anyone goes, its gotta be theBean. Mom’s gotta be able to see her son – where he lives, works, etc. Somehow, its enough for me to hear about it & let my mind paint pictures of what his life is like. Mom has gotta see it. I understand, I think. And wonder if I’m just in denial, telling myself it will be ok to send Just theBean to Knoxville, & that me, theWeez, & iDoey will hold down the fort. Cause if its ok, then the hurt & longing of missing the boy can be wrapped up in the joy of theBean getting to see him on our behalf.

I just want people to know Jesus. To know His love & acceptance, the transforming power of forgiveness and grace. The real freedom that comes with a Holy Spirit-led life.

So often, the familiarity of the life we know keeps us from moving forward into the life in all of its fullness.

Had coffee with a new potential friend today – a fellow laborer within the church in Reno. It was fun, truly, getting to talk & feel each other out & to talk about commonalities.

More on that later.

musings on a Valentines Day…

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Our first Valentines Day is a little blurry in my memory. I know that I made myself sick with worry (really, I barfed. TMI, I know, TMI.) I wanted to get theBean, my fiancee a gift. A good gift. Something that would perfectly describe my commitment to her, encompass all of my undying love & devotion, & make her absolutely positively sure that she was making the Right Choice by marrying me. I wanted all of this to be communicated in the gift I got her. And I wanted it for under $50 (Which was a lot of money back in the day… But I digress.)

I don’t remember what I bought her. Neither does she. Funny. And I’d gotten so worked up, anxious, stressed, and worried. What I do remember is that she kissed me good after I gave her the present, & that I never wanted it to stop. The kiss that is. But it had to because theBean couldn’t (still can’t) breathe so good through her nose.

I knew I loved her, & for some reason, she loved me back. I didn’t (don’t) understand it, but I am not one to argue with a stunningly beautiful woman who wanted to pledge her undying love & a lifetime of devotion to me. Go figure.

Something that I’m thankful about is that theBean doesn’t need presents to make her happy; they’re not her main “love language.” (Go to that link. Learn about love languages. Talk to your loved one. Listen to what makes them feel loved. Do it.)

Granted, she likes bling, appreciates kind gestures like flowers & cool looking cooking pots, but what she wants is me.

Me. That’s a tough one. Because I know the depths of my heart, the levels of junk I’m capable of. The things I’ve put her through out of my immaturity, selfishness, and brokenness.

And still, what she wants is me. My attention. Approval. Support. Encouragement. Ears. Commitment. Good words. Touch. Eye contact. Heart. Acts of service. Cleaning up around the house. Pretending I know what I’m doing in the kitchen/bbq.

Today, she asked me to be her Valentine. Again. Still. I said, “Yes. Will you be mine too? Forever and ever and ever…?” She agreed.

I watched her drive off to work, & as she started to pull away, she rolled down the window & said, “You’re all mine, baby!”

Like I’m a prize worth having. Like she still means it. Goodness.

My heart is full, & I am so thankful for the favor of God on my life that He would give me such a woman.

You didn’t let ME run!

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“You didn’t let ME run, Dad.”

TheWeez’s comment took me by surprise. I had no context. “What do you mean Weez?”

“You sat up on the stage today after church, & there were like 100 little kids running crazy all over the church, & you just sat there smiling. And then later on, you pointed out that little kids run & make messes & are loud… & you’re okay with it, because they are also a great sign of life. But you didn’t let ME run!”

Hmmm. She was going back in the archives to the Olden Days. The days before Boys entered her world. Before self-consciousness had struck. Before there was anything else on her agenda for the day except getting where she wanted to go as fast as she could. And what she recalled was that when she was small, like the running mitey-mites that had filled the sanctuary today, I wouldn’t let her run. My daughter.

I remember THAT guy. Sometimes he feels like a completely different person than I was, but then I see that he has scars on his shoulders in the same places I do, & I can remember thinking what he was thinking, & knowing, KNOWING that I KNEW what was most important in life… & kids not running at church, especially my kids, was important. Sigh.

That guy. Uptight. Grumpy. On the edge of angry most of the time. Easily frustrated. Defensive. Insecure. Immature. Trying sooooo hard. Working harder. Faster. Longer. Wearing out. Breaking down. Bottled up. Hurting. Confused. Tired.

He was so hard to be around; I couldn’t stand him. Its even harder to come to grips with when I know that I know that THAT guy was me. He left marks on the psyches of those he loved the most, theBean, Pasty, iDoey, & theWeez. Among others.

What I don’t remember is when that guy left. It seems that he might have lingered, neither here nor there, for quite a while, until finally he was gone, no longer welcome.

“You didn’t let me run, Dad. I just wanted to run,” theWeez said, softer this time. “WHY? Why didn’t you?”

“I’m so sorry Weez. I thought I knew what I was doing, but looking back, I was silly, in the worst grownup kind of churchy silly that I could be. I’m so sorry…” My voice trailed off. My eyes reacted with vigor to the dust-storm that must have just appeared in the room; otherwise, why would my eyes be so clouded…?

“If I had it to do over again, sweetheart, I would let you run. And I would run with you.”

“You would?”

“Yep. I would.”

She thought for a moment… “Yeah, you probably would.” Big smile.

Wind and fire, a return to school-ness, family, & other musings…

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Oh LORD. Have mercy.

Fire is one of my favorite things – candles, camp fires, a back yard fire pit. Fire. In moderation, under control, providing ambiance, warmth, cheer… Sigh. I’m sitting at my desk looking out my window at the smoke filled sky… yet another wind-blown rager has descended upon the Reno area, consuming at least 10 houses in the Pleasant Valley-ish area. Oh LORD. Have mercy.

Sunday evening marks my return to my Master’s program & with it a 6 month deluge of reading & writing before my next break. I find myself wanting to drag out the days until I go “back to school” as long as possible. Its not the work – its the stress that keeping my school schedule in the context of an already full life – puts on my attempts to live “in rhythm,” balanced; to not only have a good day off, but to Sabbath. To cease. Rest. Celebrate. Reflect. Deadlines, assignments, pressures have taken me & my resolve to Sabbath to the bending point… bending to the point of recognizing a great need for an iron backbone and a forehead made of flint that, for the good of me & mine, will enable me to navigate the next phase of life & school. Oh LORD. Have mercy.

It has been exactly 5 months & 7 days since #1 son, the Pasty Gangster, moved to Knoxville, TN. He is doing well, has a great job, is prepping for a return to school in the fall, & his relationship with Alexandrea is going gangbusters… (He inherited from his Papi the uncanny ability of having a beautiful, talented, compassionate, caring woman fall in love with him. 3 words: Jedi mind tricks.)

I miss him something terribly. There’s a part of me that is so happy for him – the prayerful choices he made to get where he is, the hard work he’s put in to excel at his job, & set himself up for the next phase of life… And there’s a part of me, that is still grieving, missing him; it is so close to the surface that merely thinking on it moves me to weepyness, & I find myself “dad-gumming” the dust in the room that has gotten in my eyes. Oh, the joy of feeling one’s emotions… Don’t have a date to see the boy yet, but I’m hopeful. And praying for him. And us. And asking the LORD for mercy on our lives, and favor upon his.

Joey, aka iDoey came into our room last night, and laid across the foot of the bed. The whole thing. He was even hanging off the edge of it. What HAPPENED to that kid? When did the little man turn into the tallest member of the family? His drivers license tells me he is 17. I don’t believe it. I still see the 2 year old boy that used to try to sneak into my room in the morning (if 4 a.m. is the morning), dodging pillows that I’d toss at him, trying to make it to his mom’s side of the bed so he could alert her to his need for food & drink: “I’m hungry, and thirsty, and hungry!” Always the same words. The same intensity and desperation.

iDoey is passionate. His personality is reminiscent of my brother Johnny’s – super strong, articulate & well-expressed. I have oft been tempted to counter his strength with my own tidal wave of forcefulness, strength, & power… but that’s been shown, long ago, to be ineffective. Meekness, controlled strength, patience and perseverance is what was required. Oh, so many times I blew it in a blow up, only to repent later, asking forgiveness of my God & my boy. There’s not much time left before the world we live in calls my son an adult, challenging him to move out on his own to pursue life, dreams, & God’s plans for His life. I resist the temptation to control, and find myself praying for this boy/man. Oh LORD. Have mercy.

Alyse, theWeez, Princess Weezer-brooks just had birthday #15. She takes great joy in tormenting her father with stories of her dreams of getting married in just a couple more years… Oh theWeez, you can wait a little while, can’t you? I will spoil you something terrible, & you will get to have your mom & I all to yourself…

We, she & I, picked out a ring for her birthday – its special, with her birthstone – we call it a “getting a vision for sexy-time with her husband and only her husband” purity ring. To save the specialness of intimacy for marriage. Because my girl is special, & worth waiting for. Oh LORD. Have mercy.

Thankful for the peace of God that transcends understanding & circumstance, filling my heart & mind with the comfort of KNOWING that I KNOW that He is with me. Is sufficient for me. For my life situations. And my kids.

So say we all.

Blowing in the wind on a New Year’s Eve eve & other musings…

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I spent the morning putting together a shopping list for our church family’s New Year Pancake Sunday extravaganza… the preparation of the list was much more thrilling than the actual shopping that fulfilled the list (unless you count the crossing off of items from the list which just might be one of the funnest things ever to do. Give me a list to cross stuff off of & entertain me for days. Truly. But I digress.)

Navigated the aisles of Costco, bemoaning the fact that the Powers That Be within said Costco must have made it their holiday wish to stymie my already malformed ability to shop effectively by daily moving items from one place to another within the warehouse. I vaguely remember an explanation i was given by a Costco employee as to WHY they happen to move stuff around so frequently, but I have chosen to forget said explanation because it pales in contrast to the obvious wrongs of Changing the Location of Items I would like to purchase.

Never fear. Pancake Sunday is happening, & all relevant items for the celebration of the day are in hand. So to speak.

The wind is blowing. Howling even. As a native Nevadan, I am used to the wind. Wind happens. But today, I stood outside my house in the street for about 10 minutes & let the wind gust around me, sending tumbleweeds, sticker bushes, & small items of trash from the House that Shall Remain Unidentified (hit the trash can with your stuff man!) The warmish yet bleak ‘winter wind’ reminded me that a new year is coming, & with it, a ‘new’ sameness. It’s a little bit awkward, because ts not like 2012 just arrives & all of the sudden everything is new – its just the flip of a page on the calendar… there is work, school, friends, relationships, & all sorts of the same types of interactions that 2011 had… but, 2012 brings the idea of something new, a mindset where people are, even for the briefest of times, open to the promise of possibility of a different, developing, new way.

I’m believing that God has & is setting in motion new things for me & mine in 2012, & am looking for the areas that I am to shift from how I have been & have lived in 2011 (& before) into the new patterns of life, new “good seeds of God’s plan” to plant in my life so that I can see the harvest, the developing fruit of what God would want to see in, through, & around me.

A door for a hobbit hole, navigating the plague, & other musings as Christmas approaches…

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My Hobbit DoorSpent the last several “Sunday Family Movie Nights” watching the LOTR (Lord of the Rings for the uninitiated,) & during the “Fellowship of the Ring,” I was hit by an epiphany: the hill directly across the street from my front door needs a “Hobbit Door.” Granted, in a perfect world, I would create an entire hobbit lair, but I can’t do that, for a plethora of reasons. A door, however, would most likely be a pretty easy install, & though it would go NOWHERE, you could imagine.

I mentioned it to theBean, & she wasn’t a fan. For some reason.

And then a backhoe showed up in front of my house. Obviously, I took this as a sign that God wanted me to have the Backhoe Guy dig a hole in the hill, & have a few handy friends come over to shore up the hill & ‘install’ a hobbit door. I could see the unveiling over next couple of months, complete with grass, flowers, a hobbit mailbox, & other accessories that I know that the neighbors (& of course city officials) would be very appreciative of.

As I was dreaming of all the upcoming construction, & mentally thanking the LORD for His providence at sending Backhoe Guy to my front porch, Backhoe Guy drove the backhoe up the hill to work on an install of some drainage pipe.

Noooo. Come back, says me.

It could still happen. I’m dreaming.

I have spent the last 10 days recovering from the flu – it was by far the ‘worst’ sickness I’ve endured in the last 20 years, as if there could be a ‘good’ sickness to have. The most troubling part of this sickness involved a renegade lymph node that swelled to the size of Kentucky. It was round, hard as a rock, & oh-so-conspicuous on the underside of my jaw, strategically placed on the left side. It was huge. TheWeez kindly said I resembled the dad from “Family Guy.” Though it has diminished in size due to prayer, antibiotics, & anti-inflammatories, I shall remember this little bundle of joy for all time.

As of Sunday, I am officially done with my first year (of two) of school in the pursuit of my Master’s degree. The year I’ve just completed is marked by a 4-week break from any real school activities. And there is great rejoicing!

Just about every day, in addition to my ‘regular’ Bible reading, I read the Psalms. My ‘way’ of reading them is to take whatever the date is today (the 20th,) & read Psalm 20, then add 30 & read Psalm 50, 80, 110, & 140. By doing this, I will have read through all 150 of the Psalms in a month.

A few weeks ago, I was given the Kathleen Norris book “The Cloister Walk” – I’d encourage you to check it out – & though it wasn’t something she recommended in the book, I felt compelled to return to reading my Psalms like I normally do, except OUT LOUD. One of the things I immediately noticed is the significant shift that happens when I have to slow down in order to speak each word, each phrase the psalmist has written. I find that I’m hanging on the words more, as though they are not just the words I’m reading, but are part of a prayer I’m praying, joining in with the church that has been praying these same psalms for thousands of years.

I am comforted by the humanity of the words, the acknowledgement of the suffering, need, and pain of the human condition, especially with how all of that is submitted to the glory & greatness of God. No whining. No complaining. No “woe is me” stands up to the fact that He is with me. He gives me peace, life, power, freedom, encouragement, and strength. And as I read, I sense the bedrock surety that is built in a life that depends on God & His Word.

Life is good. God is better.

I’m looking forward to 2012…

“You’re HIM!” & other fun stuff from the last week…

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Thanksgiving afternoon, while theBean was working for theBux, I took theWeez & iDoey to the moving picture show. I happened to be wearing my Nevada polo; the special one that Opie gave to the PastyGangster for his birthday. It is the special one that I stealthily (& without remorse) took from his closet & owned by sheer will power. I wear that polo 2x/week, because I want to, and I can, and it makes it easy for me to decide what to wear when I don’t have theBean’s yay/nay sayer available. But I digress…

As we gave the nice lady taking tickets our stubs, she saw my shirt & said, “ohhhhh! You’re him.”

ME: “Hmmm. Who me? I’m who?”

LADY: “You’re the guy from the football team. The coach. The Nevada man.”

ME: “Uh, no. I’m not a football coach. I do have a Nevada polo, but that’s about it.”

LADY: “Oh, I know you people have to say such things in public, but I KNOW its you. You’re him.”

ME: “I’m not the football coach for Nevada. I promise.”

LADY: “You must be an assistant then. I can tell. You’re him!”

By this point, a line had formed behind me, drawing curiously (and uncomfortably I might add) close to hear just WHO the nice lady was talking to. TheWeez & iDoey were amused.

I just wanted to get my buttery popcorn & sit in the dark theater, eating to my hearts content. But the nice lady wasn’t going to let it go. So I said:

ME: “Ok. You’re right. You got me. I’m him.”

LADY: “I KNEW it! See (to everyone in the line) I KNEW it. It’s HIM!”

I thought that would be the end of it, but no…

LADY: “Soooo. Why did you kick that guy off the team?”

I knew she was talking about THIS STORY because I’d come across it earlier in the week. So I recapped what I’d read, and told her, “Happy Thanksgiving!”

My kids thought it was hilarious.

I got my remaining wisdom teeth removed on Monday, 11/21. When I was 16, I’d had the two from the left side of my mouth taken out, but time, $, and other things had kept me from getting the other two taken out. So, 24 years later, with many thanks to SBux insurance & God’s timely provision, I am less wise than I was before.

I have several stories from when I was under sedation… Perhaps I’ll share one sometime.

I remember vaguely, like it was a dream, that I talked during the procedure, but I don’t know what I said. Of course, I wondered if I had scandalized the very nice & sweet dental assistant due to the fact that my Oh So Powerful Thought & Word Filter was inoperative due to the amount & type of medication that I’d been given.

When I went into the office yesterday for my checkup, I asked her, wincingly, if I’d been untoward or off in my comments. She only smiled & said, ‘You like football. A lot. And I know more about the 49ers because of you than I ever wanted to know.” Dr. Pete asked, “You remember ANYTHING from the procedure?” And I said, “Nope.” And the two of them, Dr. & assistant, just smiled at me.

Great.

Over the last week, I’ve been pondering God’s promises to me & mine. This includes my marriage, my family, my friends, & my church family. Sometimes the circumstances of life threaten to make me afraid, make me doubt, make me worry… the accuser throws out his classic line, “Did God really say….?” and I’m driven to my knees & to God’s Word to remind myself that God’s promises WILL come about, not for my greatness, but for His. Not due to my goodness or worthiness, but because of His. He delights in blessing & caring for His kids, & I am one of them. And I am holding on to what I know to be true. No matter what.

So say we all.

letting my words be few & other musings…

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For the last 8 weeks, I’ve been consciously pondering what it means to “let my words be few.” Rather than give full vent (and voice) to my every thought, I’ve been trying to weigh them to see if they’re worth being expressed or left unsaid. What I’m noticing:

      -Complaining is contagious
      -Sometimes the act of articulating something negative causes it to balloon, both in size & scope.
      -The more I look for positive, encouraging thoughts to think on (& words to express) the easier they come.
      -Praying through the Psalms is an incredible way to test the heart.

Last week, theBean & I were blessed with a ‘sponsored’ trip to Tucson – a friend flew us down & put us up in a hotel for 2 nights so we could participate in a “Worship Summit.” It wasn’t a conference; it was a gathering of about 35 people, meeting, eating, hanging out, & worshipping together in a home that easily accommodated us. The last night, a couple prayed over theBean & I – many of the things they prayed & encouraged us with were things that God had shared with us before, both as a couple & personally. It was amazing to know that God knows our current life situation, & even better that He would use another person to (unknowingly) remind us of many of His promises for our lives. I came away with layers of weariness stripped away from my soul. Good times.

When I was but a lad of 16, I had two of my four wisdom teeth out; don’t really know why they didn’t take all four, only that for the last 26 years, I’ve been wrestling with the growing irritation on the right side of my mouth. TheBean’s insurance through Starbucks has been a God-send… & has allowed us to take care of many dental/medical/vision things that we hadn’t been able to do… Monday was my day for my teeth to come out.

After I came out from under the anesthesia, I asked the dental assistant if I’d said anything interesting during the procedure; she just said, “You must really like the 49ers. You told me more about them in the last 40 minutes than I ever wanted to know. Ever.” Ah. I am a 49er fan. Go figure.

On that note, I cannot wait for Harbaugh v. Harbaugh – 49ers v. Ravens. Thanksgiving Day. Night. Booyah.

TheBean has just begun the 2nd phase of her training to become an Assistant Store Manager (ASM) – this has necessitated a move from the Starbucks nearest our house to the one at Northtowne. If you happen to be in the neighborhood, stop by & say “Hey, theBean!” She always appreciates smiling faces. Its her favorite.

Her schedule is occasionally tough in that it is opposite of mine – working afternoons & evenings to ‘close’ which sometimes ends up about 10:45 p.m. Even though she’s the one doing the work, I find that its easy to feel sorry for me, sitting home, holding down the fort, interacting with the kids, doing school (& house) work, waiting.

I recognize that I could get whiny. Lose perspective. Forget that theBean doesn’t exist for my convenience. (Sounds so childish saying it like that, but hey, sometimes there’s ugliness revealed in the soul that needs to be addressed.)

I’m challenged to find my peace in Christ – to learn to be content, even in a non-optimum situation. To be thankful for God’s provision & working in her life, for the favor that she has been shown. Knowing that this, too, is just for a season. And that I have an invaluable opportunity to nurture a relationship with iDoey & theWeez… & to grow in my dependence on the LORD.

Plus I can catch up on my ‘for fun’ reading.

Which reminds me. I was given the book “The Cloister Walk” by Kathleen Norris. It took a couple of weeks to find the time to get started, but once I did, I’ve had a hard time putting it down. Quirky book. Thought provoking. Reminds me of what got stirred up in me while reading “the Ragamuffin Gospel” by Brennan Manning.

No formulas for life; no pat answers. No clichés. Just God’s faithfulness & goodness in the face of the challenges that life inevitably brings, & reminders that He has promised to finish the good work He’s begun in me. And for that, I am thankful.

Wanting to be resilient & other musings as October slips away…

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I’ve been thinking a lot about things that I want to be true of me. Characteristics. Attitudes. Traits. Things that could be good & accurate descriptors to help paint a picture of the man that I am & the man that I am continually becoming.

A few that have come up.

Gracious.
Compassionate.
Thoughtful.
Faithful.
Substantial.
Consistent.

One word keeps coming to mind, over and over. Resilient. I want to be resilient.

To be “resilient” is to be pliable. Able to bounce back from being stretched. Quick to recover. Not rigid or inflexible.

I want my friendships and relationships to be resilient. Able to withstand adversity, difficulty, & even being wronged. Not easily broken. Characterized by a steadfastness of commitment to life-giving, encouraging relationship, come what may.

Cause life is tough. And its not always easy to see the personal and relational challenges that await us around the corner.

And life is too short to be wondering, “when it gets bad, really bad, will this friendship last? Will it stand?”

Some things that may lead to a trend towards resilience: humility. Peace. Truth. Grace. Perspective. A positive outlook. A determination, in advance, of how I will live, act, and be towards others.

Pasty has been in Knoxville for coming up on 3 months. Sigh. Happy for him; he’s working at a great restaurant & gets to see his Alexandrea just about every day. If I was him, Ida moved too.

Missing his laugh, his routines, and his hugs before bed. His unswerving commitment to keeping me updated on what is happening in the sports world.

Yesterday was pastor appreciation Sunday – I’m thankful and amazed at the kind words, written notes, & heartfelt encouragements that so many shared with theBean and I. It seems surreal to be “thanked & appreciated” for pastoring, something that I do because I know God has put me in that spot & role. Maybe its because the early years, there wasn’t so much appreciation as there was criticism, suspicion, and frustration with me & the “Job” I was doing. I tried not to get “too low” based upon what people were saying or writing in the special anonymous notes. I wonder if now I’m just guarding my heart & not wanting to get “too high” from the good things people have shared with me & my family. Not sure. But I know that I do want to be able to receive compliments, ‘thank yous’ & the like, without self-deprecation or minimizing it.

Hmmm. Change my heart, Oh God.

Just started Week 2 (out of 8) of my 6th Masters Class – at the end of the class I will be 50% of the way through the program. It has been a battlefield between my ears for sure. One of the most difficult things hasn’t been the workload, but rather the new ideas, theories, terminology, and ways of conceptualizing what it means to lead.

I caught myself last week wrestling with an especially challenging assignment in “Leadership Theory & Praxis” & I wanted to quit. Stop the program. Be done. Quit challenging & trying myself, exposing weakness, inadequacy, & ignorance. (Nice & melodramatic I know.)

Heard the soft whisper of the Holy Spirit encouraging me to keep going – to resist the discouragement. To stand firm. To apply myself, & also to ask, believing, for wisdom & understanding.

So I am. Prayers are appreciated.