Don't Lose Your Balance

I originally wrote this post for Family and Faith Matters in 2014.

How are you at keeping your balance? I don’t mind admitting that mine isn’t as reliable as it once was. There are no gravity defying stunts in my repertoire. In fact, I like to keep both feet firmly planted on the ground whenever possible.

It was actually a little difficult going for walks this past winter with the sidewalks often icy and deep snow making the footing treacherous. I tend to be quite cautious because of a fall I had a few years ago that left me with a dislocated elbow and a broken finger. I still remember the flash of panic I felt in the split second when I realized I was going down.  

It wasn’t long after that when I decided to take an exercise class that was designed to improve core strength and balance. When I started out it was a little dangerous to stand anywhere near me. I had serious wobble issues and would often fling an arm out in a desperate attempt to stay upright in some of the positions we were asked to assume.                    

I did improve as time went on. It helped a tremendous amount when my instructor told me to keep my eyes focused on one spot on the floor about six feet in front of me. I learned to pay attention to where I put my feet and not to lean too far in any one direction. Those were important lessons in more ways than one.

I am a mother of three married children and I have seven grandchildren with one more on the way. Add aging parents and friends who need support to the mix and it’s easy for me to get so outward focused that I forget about my own needs in the process. I lose my balance and once that happens, the desperate fling of an arm is not enough to keep me from going down. When I crash the consequences can be both painful and far reaching.

A dear friend reminded me recently that self care is not the same as selfishness. I need to keep my balance in this busy life of mine.

That means choosing carefully where I put my feet. It’s okay to say no.

It means not leaning too far in any one direction. I need activities that will feed my soul and bring me back to centre.

Above all, it means keeping my eyes focused on the one thing that doesn’t change – God and His love for me.

 

Seize the Day

I originally wrote this post for Family and Faith Matters in 2014.

 

 

I have a confession to make. I am a natural born procrastinator, unlike my good husband. He likes to know that when the sun goes down at the end of each day, his efforts have made a difference and he can check things off of the ongoing list that he carries in his head.  One day I found a list written on the white board on the side of our fridge. I was glancing through it when one item caught my eye. There, in bold red capitals, were the words, KISS YOUR WIFE. The rest of the items got erased one by one but that one stayed for as long as there was a list. It made me smile. Those three words would jump out at me whenever I went into the kitchen. They let me know that I was more important than anything else that needed doing.

I’ve learned to set goals and to reach them eventually. I may not like endless lists of jobs to be done and I suppose I will always have a tendency to put things off until tomorrow, but people are too important to be allowed to slip through the cracks.

We live in a world of todays and none of us knows how many of those we may have. We’ve lost a number of friends in recent years, some of them suddenly and without warning through accidents or heart attacks or devastating illness. As we grieve each loss, we are achingly reminded that none of us really knows what today will bring. We have our goals and our plans, our dreams for the future, and yet, today may be the only day we have.

I can’t really afford to be a procrastinator when it comes to the people in my life. There are some things that shouldn’t be postponed. Things like forgiveness, simple appreciation, random acts of kindness, and words like “I’m sorry”, “I love you” or “I am so very proud of you”.  I don’t want to let opportunities for the really important things slip by me because I am telling myself that there’s always tomorrow. That just may not be true.

We’ve all heard the term Carpe Diem or Seize the Day. It doesn’t sound like something a natural born procrastinator would live by but I think it’s a good motto. Perhaps it’s time to take some of my good intentions and put feet on them.  Are there words that need saying or people I should see? I need to make this day count because it may be all that I have.

 

 

The Quest for Humility

I originally wrote this post for Family and Faith Matters in 2014.

 

     I had to laugh the day my brother spoke up in mock serious tones to give his opinion on the subject of humility. “What’s the point of being humble if you can’t boast about it?” he quipped. In our culture of independence and individualism and looking out for number one, there doesn’t seem to be much room for humility. Yet if God opposes the proud but gives grace to the humble as it says in James 4:6, then genuine humility is a character quality that I definitely want to grow into. It’s a journey that I expect will last a lifetime. Genuine humility builds bridges and connects people. That’s something the world needs.

The fruit of a humble heart is pretty attractive when I think about it.

·         Recognizing my weaknesses so that I can grow and change

·         Having a teachable spirit

·         Accepting and appreciating others without judgement

·         Forgiveness freely offered and freely sought

·         The ability to offer unconditional love

·         Obedience and trust

·         The kind of inner security that doesn’t need or seek after attention or recognition

·         Placing others ahead of myself and having a desire to serve rather than be served

·         Gentleness and kindness and the ability to really listen to people

True humility is not born out of a sense of inferiority or weakness. It comes out of knowing yourself to be loved absolutely, just as you are. That is a place of strength and total security when you know that the One who loves you is God Himself.

Perhaps that’s what I need to come back to when I sometimes catch myself talking too much and looking for attention, or feeling resentful of critical feedback, or passing judgement on my neighbours. God is quick to forgive and give us a fresh start whenever we acknowledge that we’ve fallen short. I love that about Him. My fresh starts always begin by asking God for a deeper revelation of His love for me. There’s no better place to begin if I want to practice humility.

Philippians 2:1-4 Therefore if you have any encouragement from being united with Christ, if any comfort from his love, if any common sharing in the Spirit, if any tenderness and compassion, then make my joy complete by being like-minded, having the same love, being one in spirit and of one mind. Do nothing out of selfish ambition or vain conceit. Rather, in humility value others above yourselves, not looking to your own interests but each of you to the interests of the others. (NIV)

 

 

 

What Do You Do With a Broken Heart?

I originally wrote this post for Family and Faith Matters in 2014 and I am now reposting it here.

Relationships can be painful. If you have people in your life the potential is always there for misunderstanding, rejection and even betrayal. The more you care, the greater the pain when something goes wrong. When that happens, the temptation to let your heart get hard in order to stop the hurt can be a strong one. You might decide to run away, or wear anger like a suit of armour to keep yourself safe, but life inside that particular armour isn’t any picnic, and we were never designed to live in isolation. We were created to love and be loved with all the risks that entails.

How do you keep your heart soft when your emotions are in tatters and the pain seems unbearable? I can tell you this. When I found myself in that place I did the only thing I could do. I cried out to God about it….

Lord, I don’t think I can do this. It hurts too much.

I know.

It feels as though my heart has been torn right out of my chest and thrown on the ground and stomped on.

I know that as well.

Paralysed, I stand staring at the sorry mess that was and is my heart. It lies in the dirt, all bruised and squashed and bleeding and I feel helpless.

I don’t know what to do, Lord.

The answer comes in that still, soft voice that I’ve come to recognize and love in the course of a lifetime.

You can stand there, paralysed, staring at the sorry mess that was and is your heart, or you can pick it up and give it to me.

In the silence I can feel His gentle urging. The whisper in my mind comes again, softer yet. 

Pick it up and give it to me.

I reach down slowly into the dirt and gather up what is left of my heart and hold it out to Him. As I do so, I find that my eyes are no longer focused on my pain. They are focused on Him and in that moment something changes. I am reminded of just how much He loves me. I can’t explain it, but I find the pain easing and strength returning, and I can move and live again. His love can soften a heart of stone and it comforts me and heals me.

I have decided. I will keep my heart soft and risk the pain that comes along with the joy in relationships even if it means that I might find myself in this place again, with a heart broken and bleeding in the dirt.

I know what to do now. I will pick it up and give it to Him.

Psalm 147:3 “He heals the broken hearted and binds up their wounds”

Ezekiel 36:26 “I will give you a new heart and put a new spirit in you; I will remove your heart of stone and give you a heart of flesh.”

 

Story Time

I originally wrote this post for Family and Faith Matters in 2014.
 

 

I grew up before cable TV. No Netflix, no Google, no i-tunes, no social media. It was a simpler time. We played more. We read books and sometimes, we read them together.

“Story Time”…I feel a little thrill of pleasure when I think of those two simple words. They conjure up all sorts of happy memories for me and even now, sharing stories is one of my favourite things to do. You’re never too old for Story Time in my opinion.

 I’ve always loved to read. I can lose myself in the pages of a good book, transported to faraway times and places with characters that come to life in my imagination. A story becomes an adventure, an experience to be treasured. How much better it is when those adventures are shared.

I can remember spending long lazy afternoons with my brother, the two of us curled up at opposite ends of the bed in the attic bedroom, taking turns reading aloud from a tattered and much loved copy of J. R. R. Tolkein’s Lord of the Rings. Later we laughed ourselves silly trying to read Bored of the Rings, Henry Beard and Douglas Kenney’s parody of the trilogy. We could scarcely get through a page without dissolving into giggles. We were teenagers at the time.  There was something special about sharing those experiences. We were forging a connection that would last a lifetime.

That was one of the reasons I so looked forward to Story Time with my own three children. It may have started with picture books and bedtime stories but it didn’t stop there. We carried on with the tradition whenever we had opportunity. We could get through whole novels on some of our camping trips, especially if the weather was bad. They were happy times. In fact, I was still reading aloud and sharing books with one of my boys right up until he left home for university. He loved to listen.

They all have their own families now and I like to picture them reading aloud to their children. As for me, I keep a collection of favourite books on hand.  I am looking forward to reading to all those grandchildren as they get older. There are some things worth hanging on to from the days when life was simpler. Story Time is one of them.

Lessons From the Labyrinth

I was walking the labyrinth at our Women’s Retreat at Mount Alverno early on Sunday morning. Unlike a maze, a labyrinth has no blind alleys or multiple choices in direction. You can go forward or back but you can't get lost. The path simply winds in and out and around the circle a number of times before it finally reaches the cross at the centre. It is supposed to represent the spiritual journey we are all on in the course of our lives. I was praying for our adult children as I walked and a number of insights came to me as I followed the convoluted path in front of me.

1.      Every person’s journey is different and if I am looking on from the outside I cannot see the entirety of the path. It would take looking down from above to be able to see how the twists and turns ultimately lead to the centre. Watching someone else walk it from the outside, I would just have to trust that the designer of the labyrinth knew what He was doing. There are no shortcuts and there are no wasted steps. He has a purpose in every one of those twists and turns.

2.      There are times when the person on the path is actually walking away from the centre so that from the outside it appears they are going the wrong way. My instinct would be to try to get them to turn around but that would be wrong. There was even one spot on the path where the centre was entirely hidden from sight by the intervening bushes and shrubs. It would be a mistake for me to try to direct someone else’s steps when I can’t see the big picture. I had to admit that I would need to let go and let them walk on their own. I would need to stop trying to direct their steps. That’s God’s job. The only good advice would be to keep putting one foot in front of the other no matter what it looks like. There are bad patches. You never know what you might encounter but the path takes you through those and eventually gets you to your destination.

What is my part? I can cheer them on from the sidelines and maybe offer refreshment along the way but the biggest thing I can do for them is pray. How do I pray for my children who are walking their own journey? Intercession…spiritual warfare… I found myself praying that they would keep moving forward, always forward, and that God would protect their lives so that they would have the chance to go the entire distance. I prayed against the lies and schemes of the enemy that would seek to confuse and deceive. I prayed that chains would be broken so that they would be free and able to keep walking. Depression can stop a person in their tracks. I prayed that they would be able to recognize those things that entangle their feet and hold them back.

 

How do I know they are even on the path? We started them on that path when they were children and we gave them back to God. He hasn’t forgotten. That gives me confidence. Beyond that, I just have to trust and that’s part of my own journey.

Just Give It a Try

Hold on and lean forward, feet tucked below the seat as you sail back and up. There’s a split second pause at the top of your arc. That’s when you lean back and stretch out your legs, face tilted to the sky for that stomach lurching swoop with the wind ruffling your hair and your mouth open wide in an involuntary grin. Just for that moment it feels like flying. I’d forgotten how much fun a swing could be.

I was on a visit to my son Jason’s family in Ottawa. We’d taken my granddaughter Evaine to the park and no one else was around. Jason was pushing her on the kiddie swing so I decided to sit on the big swing to wait. She’d likely want to move on to something else in a moment or two. Muscle memory is a marvelous thing. Without any conscious thought at all I found myself automatically pushing off, legs working back and forth in the pumping action I’d learned as a child. Higher and higher until I imagined my outstretched toes would touch the clouds. I haven’t done that in years and now I wonder why. It was great!

When we got back to the house Jason brought in a couple of gigantic mats that he’d salvaged from the climbing gym. He set them up in the basement for me to use as a bed. They were about eight inches thick and the two of them together made a bed about eight feet square. My husband was due to arrive in a couple of days so he wanted us to have plenty of room. The whole family could have slept on that makeshift bed but in the meantime it made a great spot for jumping and Evaine was bouncing up and down and flopping onto her back with gleeful abandon.

Eventually she tired of the game and I was left alone to set up my sleeping space. I stood there for a moment looking at that enormous spongy expanse before sitting on it and giving it an experimental bounce or two of my own. I had an outrageous impulse and shook my head as though to dislodge it. It was too ridiculous. I think my earlier experience with the swing must have dislodged my common sense. I told myself I should act my age. On the other hand, no one was there to see me. Why not just give it a try? What was the harm?

 I checked the stairs to make sure I really was alone before returning to the mat and furtively getting into the correct position for what I wanted to attempt. A moment later I lay sprawled on my back trying to stifle the giggles that threatened to erupt. I confess it now. I, Robin Livingston, 57 year old grandmother of eight, did a somersault when no one was looking. In fact I did two.

I don’t know what got into me but somehow, when I am around my grandchildren I remember what it was like to be a child myself. I end up doing some pretty strange things. That didn’t happen when my own children were small. Too much responsibility I suppose. If you don’t have grandchildren of your own maybe you should borrow some. They will help you to remember that it’s fun to play.

 

Photo courtesy of Stuart Miles @ FreeDigitalPhotos.net