Category Archives: Reflection

Bankrupt without Love

Posted on February 23, 2013 by caverns of my mind

I have a fascination with dystopian literature.  I’m not sure why, but I’ve always been intrigued by the idea of a perfectly planned society gone askew. The feeling of gray in these stories helps to contrast the color in my reality.  Because we cannot plan perfection; we cannot control thoughts; we cannot limit the abilities of love.  Discovery of self and the ability of even one to make a difference always overcomes the control factor.

This is not what I had planned to write about actually.  I recently heard a song a few times that I thought I might write a little something about.  When I pulled it up on Youtube I found the official video and was impressed that the song was set to the backdrop of a dystopian society and that love was what overcame.  Please enjoy For King and Country’s “The Proof of Your Love.”

Truth is apparent in the lyrics and the video gives an interesting take on the power of love.

I hope that I show love every day, but I’m not sure how others view me.  I feel love on the inside, but often I’m not sure how to express it.  My goal is to do more to be the proof of God’s love in my life.

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My Time Machine

Posted on February 20, 2013 by caverns of my mind

lunch box

The things we hold onto in order to remember our youth!  I carried this lunch box to school for two years during high school, until I got my Lion King lunch box when I was a senior.  After I retired this as an actual lunch box, it held my cassette tapes in my car, until I finally got a car with a CD payer.

This started out as my dad’s lunch box when he worked for United Airlines.  My sisters and I had put a few little stickers on it for him, like one that said, “Dad Thinks I’m Cute.”  The original handle came off, so Dad used a discarded airplane cabinet handle in its place.  At some point, the latches seized to work correctly, so Dad took some kind of wire and made a sort of huge safety pin out of it to hold the latches shut.

When Dad no longer needed the lunch box, it became my project.  I put every sticker I could find on that thing, and now almost every sticker on this masterpiece has a story.

My sister used to joke that this lunch box would one day be on display at the Smithsonian.  It no longer serves any other purpose for me, but I cannot bear to part with it.  It sits atop a shelf in my closet, and I glance at it on almost a daily basis as a reminder of who I was, and it always makes me smile.  No other sixteen year old girl had a lunch box like mine!

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Senseless

Posted on December 15, 2012 by caverns of my mind

The official news outlets and social media are inundated with the tragedy that happened at Sandy Hook Elementary in Newtown, Connecticut yesterday.  The last count I saw was that 20 children and six adults (including the gunman who killed himself) were dead.  Senseless.

Then news started to surface that an attack had also occurred across the world in China as a knife-wielding man attacked twenty-two children.  Fortunately and miraculously, none of them sustained life-threatening injuries.  From my research, I see that there have apparently been a string of such attacks in China, and we in the U.S. are well aware this was not the first school shooting we’ve seen.

But why?  What drives a person to want to do harm to others, especially to small children?  They haven’t lived long enough to wrong anyone yet.

I learned of this tragic news when a student in my class of seniors found it while I had them doing some research online.  Class was almost over and we all talked about how there have been so many horrific stories in the news of attacks in public places.  Then classes changed and I thought I would try to put on a strong exterior for my last class of the day, but while they took a quiz, I looked up the shooting on my own and I had a hard time keeping from crying, let alone teaching class immediately after learning of this.

I teach high school, and we had been under a lockdown just earlier the same week because someone from outside our school had made some threatening remarks geared towards another high school in our town.  This person was found and nothing violent occurred, but it sure makes a story like this feel closer than it is.

“What if” kept echoing in my mind.  I watched my students as they took their vocabulary quiz and I wondered what I would do if someone attacked my class.  What if someone tried to harm my kids?

And I cannot stop thinking about the families of these victims, the pain in that community, and the terror the surviving children of this massacre must be experiencing.

Once my students walked out of my room at the end of the day, I went in my office and prayed for those families, that community, and those children.  Then all I wanted to do was get in my car, go home, and cry, so much emotion had built up.  As I drove home, only one word echoed in my mind as I fought back tears…senseless.

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I’m as Thankful as a Turkey the Day after Thanksgiving

Posted on November 20, 2012 by caverns of my mind

This Thursday, US citizens will celebrate Thanksgiving, a national day of thanks, as we should, for all the blessings we have to be thankful for.  However, as so often happens, the true meaning and feeling of this holiday seems to have been forgotten and become commercialized, just as the one that soon follows it, or rather has been nearly skipped over, seen as merely a pit-stop on the journey to the next.  President Lincoln was the first to actually declare Thanksgiving as a holiday, though something similar had already been tradition in New England before that (the Pilgrim and Indian story we all grew up on), so we’ve been doing it for a while now.  The idea then was to give thanks for the Union during a war-weary time, to give hope.  Now the Union has been preserved for some time (though I guess not all states are cool with that anymore), and we’ve adapted the holiday as a day to be thankful for all we have.

Families come together and gorge themselves on turkey that makes us sleepy, children and adults alike watch a parade with giant balloons and Santa Clause, and fans cheer on favorite football teams until we all fall asleep from the turkey.  Then many prepare themselves for the craziness of “Black Friday” (which actually has a positive meaning though the name sounds so…dark), since it starts so early the next day.  And now some stores actually have taken to opening their doors on Thanksgiving to get a head start on making that crazy Black Friday money. Greed.

And so, with food hangovers, people wake up long before the daylight even thinks of shining, so they can spend money they don’t even have, because there are deals to be had on merchandise they don’t even need!  The sick irony of this is that by the time many people have maxed out their credit cards on these “awesome deals” on material objects (many of which will be re-gifted anyway), they will pay multiple times the amount they “saved” just trying to pay off the interest on the cards.  The term “Black Friday” comes from the idea that retailers are put back “in the black,” meaning their profits put them in the black rather than the losses of being “in the red.”  So the only ones really winning are the retailers, which is of course good for the economy, just not the individual’s bank account.

All of this greed has commercialized our holidays from the end of October through the end of December to the point that people working for such places are forced to work on the holidays (in this economy one does what the boss says without arguing), missing that quality time with family,  so other people can go out and get more in debt.  As I mentioned earlier, some retailers care so little for their employees that they begin their big sales on Thanksgiving, and shoppers feed into it, deciding to ignore the obvious idea that the people they are yelling at about “the sign said half off…” are missing their holiday.  Our perspectives are all wrong!

This important video may help open your eyes.  Please click and watch.

FWP’s Video

I encourage my readers to truly think about all you have. Here in the US even the poorest are generally more blessed than the majority of this world’s population.  But in many of those countries where people are “less blessed,” they are more thankful for what little they have, like their families, and shelters over their heads, if they have them.

I’ve been seeing on Facebook that people are posting something new they are thankful for each day.  I like that idea, even though I didn’t participate, but I’m going to list as many of them as I can think about now.  I am thankful for…

God, my creator, who loves and provides for me,

my husband who loves me unconditionally,

parents who raised me in love,

my family (even the ones who sometimes drive me nuts),

friends who are like family,

my dogs,

my freedom,

my church, epic,

my health,

my home,

two cars that are paid for,

employment for my husband and for me,

a talent in writing,

always having food when I’m hungry,

wonderful neighbors,

all my needs always being met,

having enough that I can give to others.

I don’t have all the luxuries I once thought were important, but I’ve also reached a point in my life where I’ve realized I’d rather have what I need and help others to have the same.  If we are blessed, we should bless others.  Dwell on what you do have instead of what you don’t.  Chances are that if you have the capability to be online reading this blog post right now, you are fairly well blessed.  Be thankful.

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My Own Pink War

Posted on October 13, 2012 by caverns of my mind

During October, I love seeing all the pink out there in support of fighting breast cancer.  The barrage of stories of survivors and those who support them warms my heart and inspires me.  My neighbor is a breast cancer survivor, and she is an awesome woman and mother.  She’s strong and funny and one of the best neighbors anyone could ask for.

I also remember a story from a few years ago about the cross country team at the school where I teach.  I hope I get this right.  I believe the mother of one of the runners had been battling breast cancer, so the team decided to wear pink socks in her honor when they ran at competitions.  They traveled up to New York for a competition and apparently inspired some of the other teams up there.  I love the cool stories like that.  And now I will also proudly wear pink.

Maybe I should not be as proud of the rest of the outfit (it was homecoming week).

It wasn’t always that way for me though.  Once upon a time, I loathed pink.  I’m not sure I really know why I detested pink so much, but I think it had to do with what I felt it symbolized at the time- froo-froo girliness- yuck!  I wasn’t a tomboy or anything, but I was never really girlie either, and pink seemed to epitomize all things frilly and girlie… and weak.

Somewhere through the course of time I began to accept and even like pink.  As I grew older, pink began to symbolize the strength in femininity: pink tool kits, pink camouflage (though I’m not sure what one can blend into with this), and pink firearms.

Walther P22- I need this!

And now grown, rugged men wear pink to support their moms, their wives, and their sisters.  It seems my pink nightmare is truly over.

Now, go in pink, I mean peace.

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Remembering 9/11

Posted on September 11, 2012 by caverns of my mind

After September 11, 2001, many of us were feeling confused about what we felt after such an atrocity.  I did what I usually do in that case, and I wrote about it (of course then I had no outlet to share it with anyone, so I never really did).  I felt after all these years had passed it might be interesting to see what was going on in our minds at that time and see if we really are remembering.

From 9-22-01:

There are so many people affected by the tragedies that occurred on September 11.  In one way or another, we are all affected by them, as we should be as decent human beings, and as Americans.  Our country will never be the same again.  These horrific acts of terrorism rocked our sense of security in this country, and put us in fear, just as the terrorists had hoped.  Don’t be afraid.  Don’t give in to their desires.  We are a strong country, with a strong history, and American pride.

I consider myself fortunate in that when I was growing up, my parents felt it was important to instill in me a love for this country.  I can remember asking my mom what made the United States such a wonderful place.  She replied, “Because we have freedom in this country.”  Freedom.  This word did not take shape in my mind until I was older, but I always knew it was important and that it made this country special.  Then when I went to school, I learned about all the people all over the world who had risked everything they had in order to come to the United States of America, in order to live in a country that offered them freedom… And I learned of the men and women who have fought for over 200 years now to gain and to preserve this freedom.

It is the hatred of this freedom that brought this dreadful assault on our country, and cost the lives of possibly thousands of innocent citizens.  It is no accident that the worst of the attacks took place in the city that has long been the symbol of our freedom, and of hope.

I can remember when I was in elementary school, putting my hand over my heart, looking up towards our classroom’s flag, and saying “The Pledge of Allegiance” before sitting down for our daily lessons.  I also remember learning and singing “America the Beautiful.”  It was a privilege to be one of the students chosen to put up the flag in the morning.  We were proud.  The last time I saw American pride like that was during Desert Storm…until now.  We are proud again.  We sing “America the Beautiful” again… and we look towards our flag again with a proud intensity this country has probably not seen since the strikes on Pearl Harbor.

It is a shame that it took such a tragic event for this country to put up the flags again and come together.  But we have.  We truly are the United States.  A renewed fire burns in each of us as we watch the heroes in New York City banding together, sacrificing their time, their sleep, and their lives, in hopes of saving even a single person from the devastation that was the World Trade Center.  The fire continues to burn as we watch the sickening celebrations in some Middle East countries, where children dance in the streets, and others pass out candy, being taught to hate already. And the fire grows even stronger as we listen to our president tell us that the state of the union is strong, and that justice will be done.

Now we need to take a stand and support our country and our nation’s leaders as we seek retribution for the attack on our freedom.  We are a changed country, and we can’t go back now.  We should never go back to the complacent lives we lived before.  We must keep the flags waving, and remember why we’ve come together now… to protect and defend our freedom.  This truly is a great nation, and we need to believe in this, not just now, while the events are fresh in our minds and hearts, but also through the coming events, whatever they may be… and forever.  We need to pray, and continue to pray, not just for the missing, or the families of the missing and the dead, but for our country as a whole, and our leaders… and the men and women who will fight for justice in faraway lands.

I thank God every day that none of my loved ones were lost.  This does not mean I am immune to the feelings of loss as I see and read about stories of everyday people who were senselessly murdered in this catastrophe.  I feel as if I know these people, and I grieve with their families, co-workers, and friends.  There was a young woman who came into my store the other day with her small son.  She was looking for anything she could find that was patriotic.  “His grandfather died at the Pentagon, and his father is in the Navy, helping with recovery efforts,” she told me.  Then she said something that rings true to me.  She told me there is nobody in this country who is not somehow touched by this.  She was right.

A new feeling now settles in on me.  I’ve always been interested in the history of wars in which the United States was involved.  I’ve studied books, watched movies and documentaries, and visited museums.  This one will be different.  For the first time, I’m old enough to really understand the situation, and I’m old enough that I know some of those men and women being deployed now to fight are my friends and former classmates.  This will be more personal.  I stand behind the fight and these men and women, and I pray that the Lord will bring them back quickly and safely to their homeland…the land of freedom.

God Bless America!

There was no Youtube when this happened, but images were online, videos circulated, and we all shared the tragedy through these.  Now Youtube has several videos in remembrance, but I just picked one, because many of the images are the ones I remember from that time, and the song that felt like the backdrop to everything for a time was  “God Bless the USA.”

On the day of September 11, 2001, Robert and I had the day off together.  I got up and turned on Today.  Being a bit groggy, I thought the images I was seeing live of the Trade Center were scenes from an upcoming action movie.  When I realized they were not, I went to wake up Robert.  I told him he had to get up because somebody was bombing New York.  We spent that day in a daze, not knowing what to do or how to react.  We could not stop watching the news.

Finally we decided to go out of the apartment and headed to the mall where I worked.  It was quiet and shops were starting to close down.  We went to see my coworkers for a bit; they too had been given the go ahead to shut down.  Nobody was out shopping that day.  As we headed towards the mall exit the song playing was Louis Armstrong’s “What a Wonderful World.”  Oh, the irony and eerieness of hearing that song in that moment.  And yet, how hopeful it was to hear it.

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Uninhibited Airplanes (with sound effects)

Posted on August 3, 2012 by caverns of my mind

One unmistakable truth in life is that when you were a child, running was more fun if you held your arms straight out from your sides as if you were an airplane, and even better than that was making sound effects as you did it.  You don’t see many adults doing that.  Why not?  Are we too mature, or are we too jaded and scared of what others will think? There are so many “little things” in life kids are not afraid to do, but adults over-think the whole process and can’t get past themselves.

I’m not just lecturing everyone else, but I’m speaking from experience.  Going on a mission trip to Costa Rica was a step out of my comfort zone, but I’m usually up for travel, as long as I don’t have to do it alone.  All the plans were in place and I just had to show up.  Then I knew God would also show up and guide me through the rest of what I was to do there. That part worked out well, and I had an amazing experience.  I felt I was faithful through all of that and I got so much out of it (more than I gave, I’m sure).  Oddly, the most frightening part of the trip came on our day to relax (a day off was worked into our schedule for reflection, team building,  and just to keep us from being too overwhelmed by everything else we would see and do).  The first item on the agenda that day was a zipline tour over the canopy of the rainforest.  I’m not a big fan of heights, but I had paid the extra money and decided this was an opportunity I would probably not have again and I would regret it if I didn’t do it.

I was terrified.

The guy who had to help me into all my gear asked me how I was that morning, and I told him I was nervous.  “Me too,” he said.  “It’s my first day.”  Now, I knew he was teasing, and the fact that he could be so nonchalant about it helped me see this was a routine thing there and I didn’t have anything to worry about.  Then a group picture was snapped and we all climbed into a truck that would take us up to the top.  Ascending felt like it took forever, and the further up we went, to more nervous I was becoming. I was waiting to put my sweaty hands into those thick, reinforced leather gloves because it would be a sauna in there with all the sweat.

All ready to go- yes, you will stand and walk funny with all that gear

Then we were lined up and hooked to a cable.  One by one, each member of my team flew off on a cable towards the next platform, but not before we requested our pastor say a prayer for all of us.  The closer I got, the more I was shaking.  A few of my teammates were a bit worried about me.  I was a bit worried about me.  What would happen if I passed out on my way to the next platform? I wondered if that had ever happened.  There was an “emergency brake” system at each platform, and lots of padding…  Then it was my turn.  “Place your strong arm on the cable behind you and the other hand here,” said an oddly muted voice somehow attached to the guy pointing to the place where all the hooks were holding me to the cable I would soon be riding.  It was hard to hear him over my heart beating.

And then I was flying down a cable over the tops of trees!  Oh, and I could clearly hear myself screaming.  Then I began to rise again, and slow down as I arrived at the next platform.  I was still shaking when I was getting hooked onto the next cable.  The guy at that station tried to point out a toucan to me, but I would have to lean over to see it and I wasn’t steady enough to do that.  I figured I’d see it once I got going, but I forgot to look, only focusing my eyes directly in front of me as I again was launched down the cable.  When I arrived at the next platform, I wasn’t shaking so much.  Part of me was starting to enjoy it a bit.

This is a serious matter- notice the intensity of survival on my face

Then came a true test of letting go of inhibitions.  At the sixth platform we were supposed to be given a choice to either go backwards or upside down (which was also backwards, btw).  Apparently this was a “slow” cable and we needed to be more aerodynamic.  I had thought I would just do the backwards thing, but somehow I missed the part where we were given a choice and I was flipped upside down, my feet adjusted at the top of the cable, told to leave my arms loose, and shoved off the platform!

At first, I was disoriented and a bit angry at my surprise sendoff.  Then, I had a truly surreal experience as I looked to the side and saw the mountains hanging over the sky in the distance.  And here I was flying over the top of God’s beautiful creation, with my arms held out to the sides, making sound effects.  He had made all of that.  He made me.  And I was perfectly safe in His hands.

Doing the airplane

That’s how I feel so often.  As an adult, I over-think and over-analyze too much.  Sometimes I need to be more like a child and just let go of all my inhibitions.  I need to trust that God has me, as long as I am careful to follow Him.  Sure, we need to take precautions, like strapping into safety gear, but then we need to let the cable take us to the next platform.  I know my life is going to start changing very soon.  I’ve known that for a while now.  I don’t know the details yet, but when I’m at each platform on the way down the mountain, I’m going to trust God, and jump.

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Homecoming

Posted on July 23, 2012 by caverns of my mind

As I sip delicious Costa Rican coffee and occasionally reach down to pet the dog who has not willingly left my side since I came home early Sunday morning (I think MJ is afraid I’ll disappear again and she wants to keep me tethered here), I’m attempting to reflect on my mission trip to Costa Rica.  I know people will be asking, and many have already mentioned wanting to hear all about it in response to my posts and pics up on Facebook.  That means I have to be able to organize my thoughts and feelings out of this jumbled mess of emotion, which somehow reminds me of the confusion of the tunnel scene from Charlie and the Chocolate Factory (minus the scary insects- that part of the movie always freaked me out when I was a kid).  I’m an introvert who just spent a week constantly in the presence of others, so I’m in overload now.

Also, as in Charlie and the Chocolate Factory, I really wish I had the Oompa Loompas to sing a song about the lesson I should have learned from my trip.  I’ve heard people come back from mission trips claiming to have experienced that one absolute God moment of clarity when they just knew what He wanted them to get from the trip. I’m not sure I had one; there were many moments where I felt His love and even got goosebumps or teary-eyed, but not a single moment of clarity as to the purpose of my specifically being on that trip.  I feel like I got so much out of it that I just cannot figure out my next move or what I am to do with what I have gained… except to LOVE.  To love like I’ve never loved before.  To love unconditionally.  To love with the love Jesus loved with (as if it is possible for any other mere human to do that), because that is the only way we can really impact the world and change lives.

My mission team family

For the first few days of my trip, I felt guilty.  Mission trips are supposed to be rugged and tribal, right?  I was in a setting surrounded by the most green I’ve ever seen, stunning mountain views, and vegetation like I’ve never seen before in my life.  Gorgeous is not a word that even comes close to describing Costa Rica (and that was while we were still in San Jose-  the rainforest and beaches we saw in the middle of the trip were even more amazing).  We toured the city. We haggled in the market. We ate food so delicious that one of my team members took a picture of every meal he ate on the trip.  We even attended and sort of helped at a church service not so different from ours, except it was in Spanish.  We weren’t really out of our comfort zones; we were just sort of experiencing a new place like tourists.

Then on Monday, we went to one of the centers of the Roblealto Child Care Association and learned about what they do, which is amazing.  There are three childcare centers that provide a safe, loving, God centered place for parents (usually single mothers) to bring their children while they go to work.  Many of them would otherwise have to leave their children home alone in dangerous neighborhoods. The centers are for families living in extreme poverty.

Los Guidos community

We were also told about their Strachan School and Bible Home (where we were able to visit on Thursday), a beautiful plot of land up a mountain where there is a school and eight incredible foster homes for children from extreme cases who cannot live with their own families for whatever reason.  The school is for these kids and a number of children from the surrounding  community, also in extreme poverty, to attend.  Roblealto makes an attempt to place each of these kids back with their families, once certain requirements are met, after a minimum of two years, with a 95% success rate.  However, a small number of these kids can age out of the program, and a new home for adolescent boys who would have been left with no place to go was recently opened, starting with eight boys, just as the original home began with eight children eighty years ago.

Then we were told of the Los Guidos community, the poorest area of San Jose, where Roblealto has land, but needs to earn money to meet a minimum in funding for the first phase of construction before the government will pitch in to help after that.  Los Guidos means the abandoned or forgotten.  This is an area of government land where squatters  piece together scrap metal to build shelters.  Electricity was run out there a while back, but they must “get it” for themselves and it is dangerous there because of gangs, drugs, and possibly forced prostitution.  We were taken on a bus tour through the Los Guidos community and it was the most heartbreaking place I’ve ever seen.  Children, who we were told should have been in school, were roaming around alone (some were as young as about three).  Once that center opens it will bring hope and light to that community, but right now they seem to have none.  We were told many of these children have already given up their wills to live, and a young girl of only nine, a victim of sexual assault, who was left alone during the day so her mother could try to earn money for them had even tried more than once to take her own life.

More Los Guidos

After we toured that area on Monday, we were taken to one of the centers in the city, ate a delicious lunch (the kids eat well while they are at the center, probably to offset the meager portions they likely receive at home), were welcomed by songs from the children, and were divided up to go to rooms to play with the kids.  They were so sweet.

Some of the older girls

On Tuesday we went back to the same center.  Some of us worked on a painting project, while others played with the kids, and still others did a healthy foods presentation with another group of children.  After lunch, we all shifted around, but most of us ended up helping in a friendship bracelet making session, where they learned that God is always their friend.  The language barrier many of us had made this difficult, but most of the kids were determined and diligent in their work, eagerly showing us their progress ( a few days later one of the girls who had missed that workshop because she was in a dance practice brought in some beautiful friendship bracelets, and I was one of the lucky recipients- she had learned at a camp previous to this).  Some of the boys were especially excited about the bracelets because they wanted to give them to family members.  When we ran out of time, I even promised one of the boys that I would finish his bracelet and give it to him on Viernes (Friday).  He did not forget and was one of the first kids to greet me that day, very happy to get his bracelet. He hugged me and said “Thank you” in his best English.

The first class I worked with

Wednesday was a work free day for us with the idea that we might need  a break to process some of what we had been doing and had seen.  I felt a bit guilty for this too as we went zip-lining over the rainforest canopy and then to a beach on the Pacific.  Of course, I was able to see more of the beautiful country, which I was much appreciative of.

Monkey Terri- I was probably screaming

Then on Thursday we went back to San Jose, had the most authentic of foods on our trip for lunch, and then went to tour the school and a few of the foster homes on the Bible Home property.  We were impressed with the way everything there is ran and with the love and hope that exists there.

Friday was our last day and we went back to the center where we had spent our time at on Monday and Tuesday, again broken up into different areas of the center, doing different activities.    One of the last things we did was a lesson on how God created every person to be special and unique, with a follow up of creating tie-dyed shirts to serve as a reminder of this.  The teacher of this age group was happy they would have these shirts because he had wanted to have something uniform for them but they did not have the money for it.  We did not get to see the finished products then, but we have been promised a picture of the kids wearing their shirts soon.  At the end of the day we gathered together with all the kids and teachers and did some activities, which were physically difficult for me with a little girl wrapped around my waist (she just didn’t want to let go- what a cutie).  Then we were pulled to the middle, the kids sang us a song, and one of the older girls said a prayer for us.  Each of the classrooms had made a number of thank you cards for us and they were handed out.  Then the kids were told they could come tell us goodbye.  This is where I nearly lost it.  These kids, with their difficult backgrounds and lives of poverty,  never acted as if they were “owed” anything.  There was no bitterness in any of them, though I certainly would not have begrudged them that if they were.  Instead, they cherished every bit of love and attention they were given, and though all we did was go there and play with them, spend time with them, and help the teachers in their routines with these kids, they LOVED us for loving them.  They came at us from all directions, hugging and kissing us.  I found myself with up to five children at a time attached to me.  And they weren’t little hugs.  They threw their bodies into it, clinging with all their might.  I know why Jesus said we should come to him like little children.

If I could pinpoint any single moment of clarity, that might have been it.  LOVE.  That is all, and yet it is so much.

After getting off the plane and settling into the back of the van for the drive home from Miami, I had my first “alone time” and popped in my earbuds.  The following song played and really spoke to me, so I’m including a video with the lyrics.  I wish the images were from my trip, but they are not (they’re still good though). Please enjoy:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OLy-B9LuqMo

Incidentally, if you have ever considered sponsoring a child through any organization but were suspicious of where all the funds go, Roblealto gives 100% of the sponsor money towards the child you sponsor.  Also, having seen them in action last week, I assure you it is an organization worth the donations.  If you are interested in learning more about Roblealto or in sponsoring a child, please follow this link for Roblealto.  If you cannot support them, please pray for them, and for those beautiful children who deserve a chance at life.

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I want to be 90% perfect when I grow up!

Posted on March 9, 2012 by caverns of my mind

In order to take my first step in this direction, I promise right now that I will not even proofread or edit this blog post…seriously, which is incredibly difficult for me.  I wouldn’t want the two readers I get (one of them includes myself) to see my imperfections. So many times in life people like me miss out on opportunities because we are afraid to step out or present anything reflecting ourselves unless it is perfect; however,

                                       nobody can do everything perfectly.

There, I said it.  Whew! I hate it, but it’s true…and that includes me.

The reason I will probably only have one person besides myself read this blog post is because I rarely post anything on here.  Why?  Because I have little time for unnecessary endeavors such as a blog, and if I don’t have the time to put into it to make it perfect, I’d rather not do it at all.

I need a 12-step program to kick the perfectionist habit.

I’m reading Quitter by Jon Acuff, and the current chapter opened my eyes to this problem. He says, “90 percent perfect and shard with the world always changes more lives than 100 percent perfect and stuck in your head.” This is my problem.  Not only am I a perfectionist afraid for anyone to see me produce anything less than the absolute best, but I am also an introvert who tends to keep my inner self to myself.

I need God’s help on this because if I don’t simplify my life soon in this area, all the pent up potential I have is only going to overwhelm me and make me burn out.  Passion fills my heart and I have untapped talents, but I always feel that if I can’t do it perfectly, I shouldn’t do it at all. How am I ever going to change lives  if I let perfection hold me back?

Just because I don’t feel like I’ve written a masterpiece to inspire doesn’t mean someone won’t happen upon my 90% perfection and still garner a little life truth that makes a difference.  We will hardly ever actually see the impacts we make on others.

Ok- now I am about to publish this WITHOUT proofreading.  There may only be one reader this time because I don’t think I can look now.

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