Easter Tidings

Easter.  This is by far and away my favorite holiday.  It is sad that it gets down played somehow in the grand scheme of holidays.  Perhaps it is because people don't understand what it is all about and the deepest meaning of celebrating it.

You all know my love of researching the background of holidays.  I find it fascinating how people have added to or detracted from the essential part of any celebration to make it work for them.  Christmas is easy.  Everybody likes a reason to give a gift, overdose on food, and attend parties.
Easter is a little more difficult in accommodating those needs, but somehow we manage.

Not that there hasn't been reasonable success in that area.  We have baskets, eggs, candy, lilies, rabbits, and other goodies.  None of which have much to do with the actual holiday.  Oh, there is the onset of new life everywhere, which in its own way is a reminder of our dead lives being restored to life because of the resurrection of Christ.  And we have filled the holiday with all things “springy” like flowers, baby animals, birds singing. I have no problem with any of that. There is nothing like a baby chick or lamb to make me smile. They are so cute and soft...what is not to love? The spring showers make the air smell wonderful, fresh, clean. It washes off the grunge of winter and makes everything look new once again. The sun glancing off the dew literally makes everything sparkle.

Easter, like most of our holidays, has become corrupted over time. We now celebrate with bunny rabbits, eggs, chicks, baskets, and such. Where did all of that come from?

The name Easter comes from Eostre, the goddess of fertility. No big surprise there, with reproduction written all over everything associated with Easter.  And why does our celebration period fluctuate from year to year? It all has to do with the Hebrew calendar and the lunar cycle. In the very beginnings of celebrating Christ’s resurrection, the Jews did not want it associated with their celebration of Passover. And so, with some finagling, it is almost never at the same time as that celebration.

I have attended many Sunrise Services. Other than prying myself out of bed way before the crack of dawn and freezing my pitotie off, I never got a big rush out of it. But evidently we are to emulate Mary when she went to the tomb on Sunday morning only to find it empty. It is not a bad way to celebrate if you can keep your teeth from chattering and chilblains from running down your body as the inevitable wind wraps itself around you and creeps under your clothing. Okay, so I like my physical comfort.

And then there are the Easter bunnies bringing eggs. There is something radically wrong with that picture. Evidently the idea of an egg laying bunny was brought to the US in the 1700’s from Germany. He is known as the Osterhase. Since he needed a place for his colored eggs, the basket full of grass was introduced to keep his eggs from breaking. That has somehow morphed into dyed eggs and chocolate Easter bunnies. Every wonder why chocolate rabbits are hollow? Other than to disappoint kids when they bite off the little ears. Cheaper of course. And if it was solid, it could break teeth. Practical too.

Eggs are not much of a stretch when it comes to fertility. Even if you don’t understand where babies come from, you understand eggs and chicks. Another story that surrounds Easter is that Mary took eggs to the crucifixion and Jesus blood dropped on them and they turned red. Seems a far stretch to bring an egg to a crucifixion. But what do I know?  Have never been to one so I don't know the proper protocol.

Now the Easter ham has real practicality. Since the hogs were butchered in the fall, ham was the only meat ready for consumption by spring. Makes sense. And lamb comes from the Jewish Passover celebration. Hot cross buns were introduced in the 12^th century by monks when they began putting an X on the top of the bread. And who knows when the turkeys arrived.

So why do we hide Easter eggs? Beats me. Because it is fun for the kids to search for them? When I lived in Utah, they had an interesting tradition called “Eastering” in which they rolled eggs down a hill. Never got that one either.

So what is Easter really? Personally, I like to refer to it as “Resurrection Sunday”. I celebrate the life, death, and resurrection of Christ. While eggs and animals and fun are great, without Jesus’s resurrection, I would have no eternal life. So I celebrate with awe and reverence for what He did for me. Feel free to enjoy all the traditions, gathering with your family, and worshiping at your church but never forget that without the one and only Son of God choosing to give his life, there would be no reason to celebrate.

And with this quarantine, we may not have a chance to celebrate the Easter holiday with our families, including all the fun and traditions. Nevertheless, please celebrate! We have so much to be grateful for!

Happy Easter to all!

Just Writin' on the River Road

Just a little insecure?

So after my last foray into the world of political news, I am going to address my insecurities . . . and yours.  Why is it that we can be so opinionated about some things, and vociferous in voicing them, but be so insecure about other things?  Or maybe we are insecure about the things that we loudly tout too?

I attended a Sunday School class this week.  I LOVED it!  There were differences of opinion, lots of animated discussion, and nobody left with their hackles up.  We can still respect and love one another and disagree.  What a wonderful concept!  How interesting the world would be if we did that all the time.  We would all be more secure with who we are as individuals.

I believe that most of our deep angst comes from our insecurities.  Those of you who follow this blog know that I love to write.  And what I love causes me the greatest insecurity.  I admit to being the Face Book spelling, grammar and punctuation police.  Not that I get it right all the time either, but nothing bugs me more than seeing books, newspapers, magazines or web sites with errors.  To me, there is something nearly holy about the written word.

Perhaps my love of writing comes from a love of reading. I read all sorts of material.  I am reading a book right now that fills me with awe of the author's ability not only to create a story, but to set the scene.  I can "see" what is going on, I can "see" the characters, I can "see" the settings.  I want to be this author!!!  I will never be able to express myself as she does, because I don't have her gift.  But I want to.  Thus the insecurity.

I have discovered that writing is like a fingerprint.  Each author is unique in their own way.  My way of expressing myself is not the same as any other writer in the world.  It may be close, and I may be able to learn new techniques, or how to add layers to my expression, but ultimately it will be mine and it won't sound like anyone else's words.  Why would I want it to sound like someone else?  Because in my mind, they are better, more polished, have more interesting ideas, and are creative in unique ways.  I love to read mysteries.  But it is not my gift to write them.  My brain is not wired that way.  Everything I write sounds like "me".....as it should.

To really bolster my insecurities, I decided to join the Idaho Writers Guild.  Hummm?  Will my fragile ego be able to take criticism?  Do I even have the courage to share my work?  It is easy to feel like a big fish in a small pond when you never venture beyond your comfort zone.   But one of the attributes of a small pond is that it can get stagnant without the influx of fresh water. I am about to get VERY wet.  Maybe?  It all depends on how brave I am.

So what is your insecurity?  Is it what others (might) think of you?  Is it your lack of ability?  In working at the Calico Cupboard, I saw all sorts of talented people that brought us items they had created.  I venture to say that probably 90 percent of them didn't think their work was "worth" much.  God has created us to be creative people, not all the same, but all creative in one way or another. I find that astounding! If we all painted, the world would be full of paintings but we would have no sculptures, or wood works, or quilts.  The list of creative ventures is endless.  You may make cheese, or soap, or can and pickle vegetables, or grow a garden, maybe you can build a building or weld.  Perhaps you farm or ranch, or operate a business, maybe you organize or plan, or maybe you are a teacher or a guide . . . there is no way to list all of the venues that can be pursued.  Don't be insecure about what you do. Be proud of what you have accomplished and push on to learn more, do more, become more.  Don't let your gift become stagnant, or disappear altogether.  You have something to add, we all do.

So let your insecurities go, let them fall away.  For the truth be told, we all spend excessive time thinking about what others think of us, when they actually don't think of us at all.  We tend to be so concentrated on ourselves that we loose sight of the bigger picture.  The bigger picture includes everything . . . the good, the bad, the successes, the failures, the learning experiences, the joy and the fun.  Get out there!  Pack up those insecurities in your old kit bag and send them down the road.  Express yourself, lead by example, step up to the plate, give it a try . . . for the most part, others won't care, they won't even notice if we succeed or fail.  There is really nothing to loose.

Just Writin' on the River Road

Elephant in the Room

I have quit watching the news.  For a lot of reasons.  For one, it isn't "news" anymore, it is a soap opera.  It is drama, it  is speculation, it is opinions, it is half truths, it is painful.  And it is feeding us, feeding our insecurity, our anger, our emotions and making us into people that we are NOT!

The elephant in the room is politics.  You have to tread so lightly in this day and age for fear of offending someone.  There is no discussion of issues anymore, there is only name calling, accusations, a whole slew of "shoulda, woulda, coulda" that causes angst, problems, and fear.  It is all highly emotional turmoil.

Now, emotions, in and of themselves are good.  As long as they are tempered with wisdom, logic, truth and common sense.  To feel joy, peace or love is a wonderful thing.  However, negative feelings cause anxiety, fear, worry, resentment, bitterness, and can raise our stress levels so high it can make us physically sick.  No matter which side you are on, you tend to watch newscasts of  those who spoon feed you the "emotional" garbage that you want to hear, and it is quite possibly taking you down a an irresponsible path.  I have watched both sides and it is scary how gullible we are, how we accept other people's opinions, or believe what we are told.  And many of those opinions come from celebrities, sports figures, and such who don't have any real knowledge, but they do have an opinion. Didn't you ever have a teacher who told you to "look it up"?  We have research tools at our command, why don't we do that?  There are two sides to every story.  Truth is probably somewhere in the middle.

Whatever happened to being American?  Americans work together, they support one another, they rise up to defend their own.  What happened to them?  When did they leave our country?  I have my opinions, yes, we all do.  But there is no discussing anything anymore, it has become a yelling, screaming match.  It has become hate!  Yes, you heard me right.  We don't disagree anymore, we hate anyone that does not agree with us.  I breaks my heart to watch the posts on Facebook and other venues and see people that I love and respect lowering themselves to hateful, personal attacks on those with whom they disagree.

What makes us hateful?  I can understand you hating someone who murdered a loved one.  That is real and extremely personal.  It would hurt beyond belief.  But to hate a politician, that I don't understand.  Differ, dislike, disagree maybe.  Why are we such angry people?  Is it because life is unfair?  Hate to tell you, but it always has been and always will be.  Government won't fix that.  If life were fair then children would never die of horrible illnesses, good people would have it all and evil people would not, if I worked hard I would succeed, if I was nice to everyone they would be nice to me.  That would be great...….but life is not fair.  In a fair life my friend, Bryan, would not be a quadaplegic, my husband would not have cancer, my child would not be divorced, I would win the lottery (although I am told that you must by a ticket for that to happen).  It is what we do with the unfairness in life that makes us strong, successful, resourceful, and grateful people.  We can change what we don't like, but we should do it with respect, decorum, and without defiling or attacking the other person.

I am going to use our President as an example.  You don't have to agree with him, you don't have to like him, but you should respect him for the office he holds as our leader.  And, unless you intend to leave this country, he is your leader.  If you have no respect for his position as the head of our nation, you are not only showing a lack of American solidarity, you are allowing your own personal emotions to rule.  And if  you agree with him, you can go over board in that direction too!  I have never seen our nation so divided.  It scares me.  There are many things I have disagreed with in the presidencies during my life time, but I never lowered myself to name calling, personal attacks on their family, poking fun or believing everything that was spoon fed to me my media.

It is sad to say, but I think less of you, as an individual, when you resort to demeaning remarks, hateful language, or off color innuendos.  Disagree on policies, disagree on actions, disagree on platforms, but agree to support who ever is elected to do the best they can for our country.  They can't do their best if we don't support them and pray for them.  Politics should not become a personal vendetta to take down an individual.  It should be a discussion of situations, opportunities, possibilities.  I can support one candidate without tearing down another.   If I disagree, I go to the ballot box and vote for the policies that make sense to me.   When I was a young person, I, and I think many others, voted on issues, policies,  or positions and it wasn't all that important which "party" candidates belonged to, but what they hoped to accomplish.  We have a government that is structured to keep a balance.  It can't work properly when the parts don't work the way the creators intended anymore.

I remember as a young person when Kennedy was president.  He was the very first president I ever voted for. We heard about his failures such as the Bay of Pigs, his decisions in the Cuba Missile Crisis and such.  It was not until 30+ years later that we heard about his liaisons with numerous women, his indisgressions in governing, his lack of maturity in decision making, or rumors that his family bought the presidency.  Would it have made a difference had we known at the time?  I think so.  Today he would have been hung from the highest tree. I understand that we want to "know" everything, but I don't think we need to know "everything".  We need to know what is important, what affects the country, what will mold our future, but we don't need to know if the president wears boxers or briefs.

It cuts me to the core to see the hateful, angry nation we have become.  Is that what any of us want?  Is it so important to be right that you will go to any extreme to prove a point.  If you truly want to change things then I suggest praying for our government.  Pray for those individuals that you disagree with; pray for wisdom, compassion, strength, patience, and abilities, but more than anything that they will understand truth.  Without truth (not half truths, or twisted truths), we can not move forward.  We are only treading water in a stagnant pond.

Do you understand that you will never sway someone with negative, degrading speech?  You, however, might change someone's mind by telling them all the positive things your candidate has done.  As the old saying goes "You catch more flies with honey than with vinegar."  I get that some of you are upset, that things are not going your way, that you don't like what is happening. . . . but what are you doing that is positive to change that?

United we stand.  Divided we fall.  I see some with so much hate that they are willing to see our nation destroyed.   Do we really want to go there?  I would dare say that well over 95 percent of the people in our nation are not racist, sexist, elitist or any other "ist".  Why do we listen to that very small minority that insists on dragging us down?  As a nation, we are not perfect, but we are better than most.

Consider this.  Pride was the ultimate sin that caused Satan's eviction from heaven.  He aspired to be God!  Our need to be "right" is the sincerest form of pride.  Pride can be our downfall.

I am quite sure this will anger some of you.  Perhaps it will hit too close to home.  There are those who will never finish the article or ever read another.  That's okay.  I am sorry. . . sorry that we can't discuss our differences.  But before you throw the baby out with the bath water, consider your actions.  Are you helping or hurting?  Are you lifting up or tearing down.  Are you loving or hating?

My challenge for you is to turn off your television, your radio, your social medial, your newspaper for a month. Live life without the anger, fighting, sarcasm, and negativity for a month.  See what your life is like.  If you can't do this, then you may want to take a serious look at who is controlling your life.  Perhaps we should all do some serious re-assessment.

I suspect the following fable has been read by all, but read it now with your eye on the politics in our country.  Fable or not, it is exceedingly true!

Just Writin' on the River Road

The Blind Men and the Elephant

It was six men of Indostan
To learning much inclined,
Who went to see an Elephant
(Though all of them were blind),
That each by observation
Might satisfy his mind.

The First approached the Elephant,
And happening to fall
Against his broad and sturdy side,
At once began to bawl:
"God bless me! --but the Elephant
Is very like a wall!"

The Second, feeling of the tusk,
Cried: "Ho!--what have we here
So very round and smooth and sharp?
To me 't is mighty clear
This wonder of an Elephant
Is very like a spear!"

The Third approached the animal
And happening to take
The squirming trunk within his hands,
Thus boldly up and spake:
"I see," quoth he, "the Elephant
is very like a snake!"

The Fourth reached out his eager hand
And felt about the knee.
"What most this wondrous beast is like
Is mighty plain," quoth he;
" 'T is clear enough the Elephant
Is very like a tree!"

The Fifth, who chanced to touch the ear,
Said: "E'en the blindest man
Can tell what this resembles most;
Deny the fact who can,
This marvel of an Elephant
Is very like a fan!"

The Sixth no sooner had begun
About the beast to grope,
Than, seizing on the swinging tail
That fell within his scope,
"I see," quoth he, "the Elephant
Is very like a rope!"

And so these men of Indostan
Disputed loud and long.
Each in his own opinion
Exceeding stiff and strong,
Though each was partly in the right,
And all were in the wrong!

Moral.
So, oft in theologic wars
The disputants, I ween,
Rail on in utter ignorance
of what each other mean,
And prate about an Elephant
Not one of them has seen!


John Godfry Sax -- A Hindu Fable

How do you compare?

It sneaks up on you.  I don't see it coming until I am in the middle of it.  I don't even know where it comes from, but I know I am not happy with myself when I become aware of my thoughts.

I am talking about "comparison".  It seems like such a common place word.  Actually, it seems inconsequential.  But it has power to bring us to our knees.  What is this need we have to compare ourselves to others, compare our jobs, homes, situations, health, or just about everything which is around us.  It is unhealthy.  It is the opposite of contentment.  It makes us constantly strive to be something we are not, to want more, to try to live up the neighbor's standards.  Why?  Why can't we be happy with what we have?

This is not a new problem.  In fact, it is as old as time.  If you remember the story of Adam and Eve, they were content in the garden . . . until Eve became discontented when she compared all she had to what she could have by eating the fruit from the Tree of Good and Evil.  Then she would know everything.  Comparing what was good, true, and life giving to that one little thing that she couldn't have has been a bane to all of us.

I found myself doing it the other day.  Saw a sign on my neighborhood walk for a house for sale with a POOL.  Immediately I fell into the comparison mode.  Mine has thus and so, but they have a POOL.  I love my yard with its cute little creek and lots of trees......why isn't it enough?  Why can't I be content with what I have?

And it is not just a woman thing, you guys have it too.  It is called vehicles, tools and toys.  You need a newer car, a bigger truck, the latest boat, 4 wheeler, golf clubs, and so on.

I visited a delightful consignment store this week.  It was clean, had beautiful items, and wonderful displays and I immediately began comparing.  I love my store, the Calico Cupboard.  It is everything I dreamed of owning, until I walked into that store.  It is such a shame that we such creatures of …………well, comparison.

I have often contemplated the Apostle Paul's statement that he was content in all things, good or bad. Will I ever attain such standing?  Deep down I don't think it has anything to do with the "stuff" we have, it has to do with whether or not we are happy with ourselves.  "Stuff" will never make us happy.  It will never be enough to fill our insecurities, our desires, our wants.

So what do we do?  Deny ourselves all but the necessities?   Give it all away and live in a grass shack?  I don't know.  I wish I had the answer for you.  If we are secure in our place in the world, in our relationships, especially with God, it may be easier.  At least we are aware of our shortcomings.  And with awareness comes the first inkling of change.

Perhaps the first question we need to ask ourselves is "Why do I feel this way?"  Personally, I think mine goes back to childhood.  I had one parent who was content with our "homesteading" lifestyle.  And I had one who was ashamed that we lived as we did.  If I could find a place on either side of the fence, I might have a chance.  But I tend to try to balance on the top rail.  It makes for a very precarious sense of security.

I have found one thing that seems to point me in the right direction.  Gratitude.  If I literally make a list of all my blessings, there is nothing I need.  In fact, there is very little that I want.  I am so thankful for all I have spiritually, personally, materially, physically and many other ways.  I don't need a POOL. What I need is the ability to be content with everything I already have, to enjoy it to the fullest, to share it with others, and be grateful for it all.  So easy.  And yet such a struggle.

Just Writin' on the River Road

Lost it . . .or not

You know, I thought I had lost it.  With moving and all, being in a bigger city, not really knowing anyone, it would make sense that I had lost it.  In fact, I had been so busy that I really wasn't even aware that it was gone.  Until I ended up standing in line at Target for some caramel pop corn last week.

You probably never noticed that I even had one.  I don't think people generally see it, but it is there.  Clearly visible to some at least.  But, then again, I don't know that they are even aware of it.  It is this sign I have printed on my forehead that says "You can tell her anything."  I used to wonder why people shared their intimate thoughts, their past transgressions, their fears, or loneliness with me.  I am no one special, I can't fix anything, I might be a moderate listener, but nothing more.  I have decided that there must be a sign on my forehead letting them know that it is "okay" to share their deepest, darkest secrets with a relatively safe, seventy plus grandma.  It is kind of like putting your kid in the car . . . suddenly things you never knew about come pouring our of their mouths.  Works with grandkids too.

So as I patiently waited for my caramel corn at Target behind two younger people, I smiled at the cashier as she rang up their purchases.   When it was my turn she leaned forward over the counter and motioned me to join her . . . "In our day", she said with our heads huddled over the counter, "young people let the elderly go first."  I think I was actually a little offended at that, even though I knew she meant well.  But then she began talking about getting older, how was she going to take care of herself, the rent kept going up, she had no husband and so on.  I just nodded and smiled.  What do you do?  Agree?  Assure? Ignore?  Why me?  I am quite sure my sign was blinking neon red.  I just can't seem to turn it on and off when I want.  I don't mind listening, but some occasions and places are just awkward.  I agreed with her, took my popcorn and left.  I will probably never see her again, but she has stuck in my mind.  She has no name, address or any other pertinent information for me to help her . . .  but I can and will pray for her.  And maybe that is the only reason for our encounter.

Do you ever wonder at those chance encounters in life?  Do you even pay attention?  I never used to, but I am getting better at it.  I overheard a friend telling someone many years ago "Anything you tell her, will stay with her."  I thought that a little odd because I don't feel it is true of myself.  I gossip just like anyone else, spread the news, question people's judgements or actions, truly wonder at their opinions sometimes.  Often, in my little ironing room at Twelve Baskets, people would show up just to talk.  And we discussed everything!  But most often it was personal, painful, frustrating or irritating for them.  Or it was spiritual in nature.  I am not a counselor, nor do I try to be one.  I think most people just need to voice their problems to figure out how to deal with them.  They can do it.  They just need a face in front of them to listen, arms to hold them when they hurt, a smile to lift their spirit, and assurance that they are not alone because God loves them.

In some ways it was nice to know my "sign" is still working.  I am truly awed that God would grant me this gift.  It is still a puzzlement.  I suspect the light won't go off until I am no longer here on earth.  And who knows, perhaps even then it will be remembered.  Perhaps someone else will pick up the "sign" and continue on down the road.  Never cast aside a gift, even if you don't think it is what you want or even need.  Trust that God knows what he is doing.

Just Writin' on the River Road

A New Year. A New Life

I have been spoiled for the last fifteen years.  I had a spacious home in the country with lots of room to roam.  Life has changed.  I never expected to get old(er), nor did I ever think I wouldn't be capable of doing some of the things I love.  But it is so . . . and I have to face the music.

We finally sold our home with the huge cowboy porch that sat on the bank of the Snake River.  The house came with the porch . . . but it was the porch which I bought.  And it was a deal!  It has hosted church services, breakfasts, potlucks,   parties, graduations, baptisms, family, and oh, so much time sitting in my swing reading a great book.  How could I leave it?   It was a long, well thought out decision, one that had practicality written all over it.  Even when you love something, if you can't take care of it adequately, it hurts to watch it deteriorate.  The first to go were my animals: the horse, the cows, the goats, the dogs, and lastly my chickens.  The passagae of each of those left a vacancy in my life.  Then came the war with weeds that I could not come close to winning.  And add to that the upkeep of the buildings and taking care of irrigation, so for all the practical reasons, we had to downsize.

Will I miss it?  Absolutely!  But it helps to know that the new owners "love" it as much as I did.  And they have youth on their side to keep it up and running.  They will be a good addition  to the community.  They have plans, which is good.  Everything has to evolve and grow.

As I looked around at those empty rooms one last time before I left, it no longer felt like home.  My things were gone, the walls were bare, even the memories had begun to fade.   But I have been blessed.  I have gone from spacious to cozy.  And perhaps that is good.  Less upkeep, less work, less stuff.  I have decided that "home"is where ever my "stuff" is, those things that are family heirlooms, gifts given to me, stuff that is comfortable, even my own bed.  Will I adapt?  Probably very well in the end.  Right now I am still figuring things out.  Each day is a challenge to find the necessities that make this new place "work".

God is not without knowing my desires.  We went from eight acres on the river to a half acre with a creek in back.  I even have a mallard and his mistress in that water behind my house.  There are many trees, a gazebo for my swing, and the anticipation of seeing what will pop out of the ground next spring.  All new and yet comfortable.  

What I will miss most are the people.   I will miss my Bed and Breakfast guests.  Each and everyone of them were interesting and delightful.  Some were funny, some became family before they left our home, all of them brought "arm chair travel" to my door. Not only did they provide spending money, they left me with memories and friendships that will never be lost.  I will also miss my community.  It was wonderful to walk down the street and know or recognize almost everyone I met.  To have people recognize my face and know my name is a trait unique to small towns.  What I miss most is Twelve Baskets, the non-profit that we three "crazy ladies" founded nearly ten years ago.  Oh, I don't miss the physical labor (my back is profoundly grateful), or the hassle of sorting goods and labeling items. I miss my customers. Over the years, many have become more than just customers, they have become very special to me in one way or another.  It took time to establish those relationships, a treasured time.  Relationships will happen again, but those people will always remain in a secreted place in my heart.

I am  looking forward.  Never one to let grass grow under my feet, I am already planning for the future.  There is so much to do, so many things to try, so many places yet unexplored . . . there is not enough time for everything.  Bittersweet.  That word says it all.  I am looking forward to new people who will enrich my life, to trying new things, and learning and growing . . . but still treasure the memories of all of those people who already made a difference, changed me, encouraged me, or lifted me up when I had hit the bottom.  I will never lose all I have gained from them! They will go with me for the rest of my life.

Just Writin' on the River Road

It's a Wonderful Life

I sat down the other night and watched "It's a Wonderful Life" from beginning to end.  It really is a great movie.  It deserves its status as a classic.  It was also very thought provoking.



What if you had never been born or your life had been cut short.  What would the world be like with out you?  I have bumbled through life without a lot of thought about whether or not I make a difference.  Mostly it was just surviving; making it through the day, paying the bills, raising the kids, doing the laundry.  I never considered that my presence just might impact another, that it might change a life . . . hopefully in a positive way.

If I had never been born my husband would have married someone else.  My son would not have been born.  My daughter would have ended up with different adoptive parents.  And those are just the major things.  What about all those lives I have come in contact with over the last 70 years?  Did I in some way change them or influence them?  And did they, in turn, make a difference in someone else's life?  It is a profound conundrum, one to which I will never have an answer.


As I look back over my life, I can see the many people who have changed me, challenged me, filled me.  I had a family that adopted us when we were brand new parents.  They helped me see how families are suppose to work.  They weren't perfect but they were there for me.  They changed me, I changed for my children, they are now changing how they parent.  Just one family.  And that family has impacted three generations so far.  What if they had never been a part of my life?

And then there was the family that I barely knew at church.  They had an adopted daughter from the Philippines.  And I fell in love.  So much so that we decided to adopt a child.  We changed our daughter's life and she changed ours.  I have been blessed with two incredible grandsons who would not exist if that family had not sat in front of us at church.

Then there was the friend who was my "yes, but . . . " friend.  We would have deep theological discussions which always ended with "yes, but . . . ".  It used to drive me nuts.  I loved her and hated her.  Just once I wanted to be right!  In retrospect, now that she is gone, I see she was challenging me to think, to study, to "not lean on my own understanding" but to search out everything for truth.  And, even though she has been gone for nearly 20 years, I can still hear her voice in my ear saying "yes, but . . ".

What about that person who believed in me so much that she helped me get a job with the USDA. Me, the little old hick from the country, working with "educated" people.  Me, who had no ability, no self-esteem, no education was hurled into a job that was way beyond my pay grade.  Because of this persons confidence in me (when I had none), I succeeded and rose up the ladder quickly.  She believed in me.  Sometimes that is all it takes.

And then there was the long lost shirt-tail relative who I only kept in touch with through Christmas cards.  She encouraged me each and every Christmas to "write".  I appreciated the compliments, but never took them too seriously.  And, low and behold, now I am writing.  What if she had never said anything?  What if I had never known her?  She made a difference.

Once in a great while, I get a glimpse of a difference I made to others.  I get a card with wonderful words, or a teary hug, or a smile of understanding.  Not because I do "big" things, but because I was meant to be there at that time in their lives.  Sometimes just being there is enough.  I can only help change the world one person at a time.  Not because I try to mold them into something else, but because I encourage, or listen, or laugh or cry with them.

It is a wonderful life.  Every day, in every way.  You make a difference.  Never believe that you don't count, that you are not important.  If you have come into my life, however briefly, you have made a difference to me!  Believe it!

According to the movie, every time a bell rings, an angel gets its wings.  Maybe you are that angel!  I know you are a gift to someone somewhere.

Just Writin' on the River Road