Perils of People Watching

February 20, 2013 By 28 Comments

The other night, my hobby of people watching brought out the ugly in me. Maybe because I’m a writer with a big imagination, I like to spy and figure out what might be going on in other people’s lives. I study mannerisms, reactions, and outfits. I’ll think things like…

He’s watching football and not listening to a word she’s saying. Now she’s texting. She looks mad. He’s gnawing on hot wings. Maybe she wants a baby and he doesn’t.

Restaurants and malls are great for people watching.

Crowded

 

So last week, my husband and I went out for pizza. (Incredible gluten-free pizza from Your Pie.)

I spotted a group of college-age girls. Boots tucked in designer jeans. Long sweaters down to their hips. I tried to create a storyline but they were chitty-chatting way too loud about nothing.

Wish I could say I came up with sweet scenarios.

But I didn’t.

In my heart, I moved past observing.

I judged them.

It happened so quickly. Less than 30 seconds. Mean thoughts…

You’re not all that funny. Do you have to be so loud? You’re just trying to get attention.

And then guess what…

Their pizza came and the girl with shimmery blonde hair said the blessing. It wasn’t a hurry-up-let’s-eat kind of blessing.

She prayed passionately. Honestly. Not for show. 

They even shut their eyes.

I wanted to crawl under the table. Ahhhhhhhh! They’re talking to You, Lord. Like I should’ve been doing instead of judging. Forgive me.

I was wrong. Way wrong.

After she prayed, she looked right at me and smiled.

I smiled back. From my heart. I’m so sorry.

I’m adding “people praying” to my “people watching” hobby.

Have you ever done what I did? Pleeeease, someone say yes…

Love,

Julie

 *above photo http://www.flickr.com/photos/davefayram/6485360921/

 

 

 

Filed Under: Celiac Disease/Gluten-Free, Forgiveness, Glimpses of God, Inspirational, Writing Tagged With: , , , , , ,

Nagging Negative Nelda is Transformed!

January 23, 2013 By 18 Comments

During our morning porch parties, my husband and I aren’t supposed to say anything negative or nag. Last week, I blew it. The morning was brisk, the coffee  fixed just right, and a negative thought came to me. Tiny at first. About the size of a flea. I knew I needed to let the thought go.

But I chose not to.

“Before long, we need to trim the bushes around the porch.”

Rick didn’t say anything. Just kept rocking.

Another negative thought. This one seemed bigger. More important. Feeling justified, I kept going.

“Will you fill the bird feeders today? It’s cold. The birds look hungry.” I was taking up for the poor birds. I had to say it.

There were weeds growing in the hay that had held pumpkins in October. Here it was January.  ”How ’bout tossing the hay from the fall scene?”

 

How had he missed those weeds? In my mind, they were humongous…so big, they took over the whole yard.

 

He gave me “the look” and the porch party fell flat.

I hadn’t meant to ruin the morning. And it happened so fast. In three sentences.

In one single thought, actually.

Scrutinizing what was wrong, I missed all that was right.

Maybe it’s not too late.

“Sorry for nagging,” I said.

“No problem.”

The way out of negative thinking (and fear and self-pity!) seemed too simple to save our porch party.

Gratitude and praise.

But I tried it anyway.

“Listen, is that geese?” I said.

“I think so.”

We smiled at each other–the beauty of the morning restored.

Our thoughts create our emotions.

And we get to choose our thoughts. And our words.

Love,

Julie

“…if anything is excellent or praiseworthy, think about such things.” Phil 4:8 NIV

Filed Under: Forgiveness, Glimpses of God, Inspirational, Marriage, The Pitfalls of Perfection Tagged With: , , , , , , ,

Life…in Retrospect

October 10, 2012 By 26 Comments

I stopped by Mother’s the other day. She was sitting at her desk in her office. “Sometimes I wish I could do it all over again,” she said.

“What?”

“Motherhood. Remember how it feels to bring a new baby home from the hospital? You put them over your shoulder and pat their little bottoms. Sweetest weight in the world.”

“And kiss their soft heads. People tried to tell me how fast it would go, but I didn’t listen.”

“Me either,” she said. “I just thought, I’m tired of folding diapers, getting supper ready, making formula, and feeding the dog.”

“Wish we could go back for a few days. I’d hurry less. Laugh a lot more.”

“I wouldn’t talk near as much,” Mother said leaning on her typewriter. “If one of you wanted my attention, I’d stop putting the clothes in the washing machine or reading the mail, or even writing, and be quiet and listen.”

I smiled imagining the thought.

“Another thing,” she said. “Making sandwiches. I’d cut them in half and trim off the edges. And I wouldn’t pinch y’all in church.”

I laughed. “I’d forgotten about that.”

She turned from her typewriter to face me.

“And never in a million years would I scream unless the house was on fire,” she said. “I’d make homemade Christmas cookies and let ya’ll decorate them. I wouldn’t care that the kitchen got messy. I wouldn’t make you and Jennifer sleep in tight pink sponge rollers every Saturday night. I’d never lock y’all out of the house and make you drink out of the hose while I was writing. I’d smile every time I looked at you. No more frownie faces.”

 ”You’re smiling now,” I said.

“You are too.”

“Anytime we talk we’re making a memory. A memory happens when hearts connect.”

“And when someone really listens,” she said.

Love,

Julie

Filed Under: Being a Mom, Forgiveness, Friendships and Mother/Daughter Relationships, Glimpses of God, Inspirational, The Pitfalls of Perfection, Writing Tagged With: , ,

A Lesson from a Pile of Sticks

July 25, 2012 By 26 Comments

Remember our porch parties? The number one porch party rule is: “Don’t say anything negative. Just sip coffee and talk about good things.” Last week I blew it.

A pile of sticks became like Ray and Debra’s suitcase.

Clyde, our Lab, has a new hobby. He chews sticks at porch parties and spits the wood into a pile like a beaver building a dam.

Right in front of Rick’s chair.

For the last two weeks, Clyde had quite a pile going.  (Below is from this morning–a rather small pile.)

For days I thought, How big will the pile get if I don’t sweep it? You know, the whole Little Red Hen thing. :-)

But the broom was closer to Rick. I looked at him. Don’t the sticks bother you?

Apparently not.

The next day I broke Rule Number One. “The sticks are getting pretty messy. I guess ‘we’ should sweep.”

“We need to,” he said.

Only one person can sweep. 

I decided I wasn’t sweeping–no matter how big the pile got.

And then a couple of days later, Rick swept the sticks into a neat pile.

But he left the pile on the porch.

So instead of focusing on this…

Or this…

I only saw a pile of sticks.

Friday night, I peeked out the window as my husband gathered the last of the tomatoes from the garden. My heart melted. It’s so hot. Probably 102. He has to be tired.

My word for the year came to me.

SURRENDER.

Over a pile of sticks? Really?

REALLY.

I swept the sticks into the dustpan and threw them away.

I can’t tell you how good it felt! :-)

Has anyone ever let something silly get waaaaaay too important to you?

Love,

Julie

Filed Under: Forgiveness, Glimpses of God, Inspirational, Marriage, The Pitfalls of Perfection Tagged With: , , , , ,

Remembering the Good Stuff–Only the Good Stuff

July 18, 2012 By 24 Comments

Saturday night, my sister Jennifer celebrated her 50th birthday. After dinner she said, “As I reflected on turning 50, I realized I didn’t want a big blowout party. I guess there’s something about aging that makes you grateful for your family, your health, your marriage, your children, and your dearest friends.”

Uh-oh. My heart pounded triple time. She planned to say something about each of us. I was the bossy older sister. The tattle-tale. I organized neighborhood plays and always got to be the director.

One night in the tub, I convinced Jennifer to take a bite of Dial soap. I told her everybody ate soap.

I told her if she’d put her Popsicles in my mouth, they wouldn’t melt so fast because my mouth was just like a refrigerator.

I told her to never say the words VENETIAN BLINDS. 

“VENETIAN BLINDS  means something dark and scary, and you’re way too young to understand.” Bless her heart. She believed me.

Would she remember all the ugly stuff I’d done? Would she tell everybody at the party?

Flash back to 1968. Mother’s folding diapers. Jen’s twirling her hair. I’m smiling at the camera with my hands on my hips, probably telling Jen to behave and smile too.

Okay, back to Saturday night, Jen’s words…

“As my sister, Julie, you truly know me better than anyone, next to Charlie, Libby, and the Lord! It’s hard to put into words the gratitude I feel for you.” (Charlie’s her hubby. Libby’s their daughter.)

Gratitude? Did she say gratitude?

“From the time I was a little girl to now, I’ve looked up to you and admired you. We had such fun as sisters.”

Me? Fun?

We were both crying, but somehow she continued.

“Playing in the sprinkler in matching bathing suits, groove-ins on Nancy Clutter’s porch, cereal and cartoons on Saturdays, me, jumping in your bed with you at night because I’d heard something and was terrified. You let me put my cold feet on your warm ones. You’ve always been there for me. I know I can confide in you.”

Oh, wow. She only remembers the good stuff.

How can it be? She’s let go of all the mean things I did to her.

(Jen, me, and Mother–44 years later–the night of the party!)

Staring at her 1960′s groovy cake, I thought…

What if I could live like Jennifer?

What if I “kept no record of wrongs?”  1 Corinthians 13:5

And dwelled only on the good stuff.

Help me, Lord.

Love,

Julie~ Was anyone else a bossy child?

Filed Under: Forgiveness, Friendships and Mother/Daughter Relationships, Glimpses of God, Inspirational, The Pitfalls of Perfection Tagged With: , , , , , ,

He Loves Me…Even When I Mess Up

March 28, 2012 By 16 Comments

A couple of Saturday ago, I was grocery shopping, my mind wandering through Worry Land.

I was stressing and obsessing about a decision in life…

What if I decide yes and it’s the wrong thing? What if I pick no and it’s wrong? Ahhhh! What to do?

Back and forth, back and forth.

And then I realized I’d abandoned my one word for this year, SURRENDER.

I was trying to take control–the opposite of letting go. And it wasn’t the first time.

Then the guilt came.

You’re doing it again, you know. You’ll never get it right.

In my head, I knew God loved me, but for a few minutes, my heart forgot.

Driving home, I flipped on the radio. My favorite song was playing. Ohhh, how I love this song!

I knocked my worries out of the way and listened to the powerful words. They always move me.

I asked for forgiveness and let His love sink in.

God loves me. He really loves me.

Even when I mess up. Even when I doubt Him. Even when I struggle to surrender.

After the song, I prayed with a tiny amount  of faith. Barely a blip of a prayer.

God, I sure wish we could sing this song in church tomorrow.

Guess what? We did!

Hope you love it too. :-)

P.S. How are you doing with your one word for 2012? If you’ve messed up too, it’s okay. God still loves us. :-) Big time!

Love,

Julie

Filed Under: Fear: A New Way of Thinking, Forgiveness, Glimpses of God, Inspirational, The Pitfalls of Perfection, Where are You, God? Tagged With: , , , , ,