Three Blind Sheep

Sheep C: You, Alone

2010-03-07T07:32:00.001-08:00

The Sheep have been having a conversation lately. This is news, because we’ve all scattered or, at least I have scattered. Sheep M bleated a call to return, and began an e mail conversation which eventually led me to observe that we’re just—each of us—on our own.

Careful, now. I have a tendency toward the bitter because of my recent marital woes. One of the things I have realized—and railed against—is that I am on my own. And, I repeat, that is true of us each and all.

Alone except, of course, for God…but I’m still mulling that one over, and that’s another post.

The sign in the picture (if you can’t read it) says “Life’s Highway.” That’s what the sheep is on—alone. Others can watch, but they can’t travel it.

Sheep M struggled with my saying this. She has been through similar trials a little ahead of me and assured me that the initial period of separation is, indeed, fraught with loneliness, but that it passes. She added that now she is happier than ever, surrounded by loved ones. No longer lonely.

She misunderstood. Do not confuse what I am saying with “loneliness.” In fact, I am not lonely. I, too, have supportive family and friends and am thankful for them all. What I mean is this: That, in the end, only I can make the decisions for my own life and only I will live with them. Only I can feel my own pain, only I know what reaction helps or exacerbates it. No one, not even those closest to me, can step inside my skin—or even my shoes—and know my problems, their solutions.

I don’t think this is deniable. Just think about the basics: stump your toe and your friend says, “Oooooo, that hurt!” Well, she may know that it hurt her when she last did it, or she may imagine that it hurts, never having experienced a toe-stumping, but she does not know, really, how badly this time hurt you or, indeed, if it did. President Bill Clinton’s famous, “I feel your pain,” was just so much rhetoric.

I did not always feel so. I once felt like a part of a “marital team,” feeling for all the world like whatever came to us, we would face it together. Ooops!

Husband grew to feel differently, and he never shared that he did until he walked out the door. No one else in the family had a clue of the betrayal scheme; he was alone in it—well, except maybe for his girlfriend. But the point is, that you never know what’s in another person’s heart; we are stand-alone units.

I confess that I worry about myself sometimes; am I hard-hearted? I thought about the pain in Haiti and in Chile from the earthquakes, to be sure. I watched in horror, like you probably did, and I gave money to help. But, I’m gonna go out on a limb here, and confess to you that none of that horrific tragedy kept me awake at night. Did it you? Am I just a heartless wretch?

I’ve though it over and realized that I really can’t feel their pain. And I don’t think I’m meant to do so to much more degree than I do. I think of the character, “May” in Sue Monk Kidd’s novel, The Secret Life of Bees. May had the torment of being able to feel the pain of others-including strangers-to a much greater degree than do most. And, in the end, it was her undoing. We just can’t do it. The load is too great for our spindly legs.

And so, how does the flock fit into this stand-alone world? Good question, for it surely does, and we are surely meant to be flock creatures, not alone. Too many wolves outside the flock. If you look you can see the eyes of the wolves of depression and despair in the darkness outside the cote.

I’ll get back to you more on that flock thing…in the meantime, what do you think? You, alone, know—until you share. C

Fall Reflections

2009-10-16T03:29:00.000-07:00

The turning of the seasons is upon us! There has been so much rain in the last week! Even when it isn't raining, the sky is gray and the colors of fall fade in the lower light quality. I'm in need of a dry day-cool crisp air and the vibrant colors of autumn.

This is also the beginning of my season of reflection. There is something about the fall that encourages me to slow down. If not in deeds-there is always so much to do once the leaves start falling-but in the way I savor events.

Summer grilling gives way to tail-gate parties and homemade soup. Meals are more apt to be lingered over- comfort foods and comfortable company.

Fall events tend to be group oriented. For instance football games-both American and what we call soccer. Friday nights are spent at the local high school surrounded by neighbors, all of us cheering on our young men. It's hard not to be drawn into the crowd. We, the supporters, are all there for the same reason, we share a goal of encouragement. We bond over each loss of yard and each touchdown! Likewise, Sat mornings are spent at the soccer fields. Often with the same friends and neighbors as the night before. Bonds are formed with the parents of a child's teammates. These bonds hold throughout the months of the sport, dissolving naturally at the end of the season, waiting for the year to turn and the teams to reassemble.

Another gift of the season, is the earlier nights. When darkness descends, my family comes together. There is not the rush to go here or there. We draw the drapes and close the front door. We choose books to read- exploring new finds and returning to family favorites. We linger in the down time-work is done, homework finished for the night and set aside- kitchen cleaned and hours stretch long before bedtime. Our first book this year is a family favorite- The Hobbit. There is something about cool fall nights that call out to dragons and adventures!

Sheep M 10/16/09

Passion

2009-09-30T17:16:00.000-07:00

I've been taking time to nurture myself lately. After raising children for 19 years, it's finally dawning on me that the airlines have it right-take care of yourself first and once you're safe, you have what it takes to help others.

WOW!

Like a bolt of lightening that visual (anyone who's flown anywhere in the last 50 years knows the pre-take off routine. In case of emergency the oxygen masks will fall. Parents are told to put their own mask on and then help their children) hit me full in the face. OK, more like in the heart. My head's been telling me for years to take care of others first. Is that a mom/woman thing?

One of the things I do for me is read. I like all types of books. Usually I have at least 4 going at any one time. Currently I am reading an adventure book with my son and a mystery/coming of age with my youngest daughter. I am also going through my own personal library to reread books that impacted my life. Having survived (and triumphed) a divorce, navigated the choppy waters of my son's cancer and stroke, and held it together when my eldest asserted herself, I know that I am not the same person who first read those books. I've been tried and stretched. The 'fluff' of me has been burned away and what is left is more of the essence of who I was created to be.

So this past weekend I started rereading Curtis and Eldredge's The Sacred Romance . Progress is slow. I'm still on page 3. I've stopped to ponder the phrase, '-a life without heart is not worth living'

Heart- the well spring of emotions. That organ that pumps the blood necessary for life. The invisible aspect of me that is capable of being broken and mended, stretched, enlarged. The thing we tend to hide from others, yet long to have seen and accepted.

As the swirl of thoughts settle, I will share what I am learning from this.

Sheep M 9/30/09

Can you tell where I do most of my personal reading?

Remembering

2009-09-29T07:52:00.000-07:00

I'm not using a drawing or a picture with this post. I can't bring myself to draw right now and all the pictures (on line photos) I looked at just don't have the right 'feel'.

On Sept 11, my last remaining grandparent passed away. It was sudden, or as sudden as it can be once you reach the age of 88. My grandmother had been ill for a week, but once she was checked into a local hospital, she seemed to be doing better. Scans revealed a mass in her intestines and a surgery was scheduled. She gave the surgeon what for just prior to going under. Seems he'd mentioned starting surgery at 4p and he didn't show up til after 5. Grandma told him that she didn't appreciate being kept waiting.

The surgery uncovered, along with the mass, a perforation in the small intestine and the doctor told us that he'd removed that section and clean the cavity, but that the nurses would watch for any signs of infection. Grandma was fine that night when my mother and I left the hospital. She'd even made me promise to make my mother go on the trip we'd planned to take the following day.

Fast forward to the following morning-we got a call at 7a, my grandmother had taken a turn for the worse and was not responsive. God in his loving mercy, gave us the time to go to the hospital and say our farewells. Grandma wasn't really there, but her body held on just long enough. As hard as it was on all of us, I am deeply thankful for the chance to say my good bye and to share one last prayer with her as my family gathered.

All that was difficult, but not nearly as wrenching as watching my mother's grief. She is now an orphan. Odd to think of that term applied to a woman in her 60's, but that is how she feels. Her ties to her childhood are gone. There is no mother she can turn to and pour out her thoughts and feelings. No one that loves her in the way only your mother can.

As I struggled to help my mother process all the information being thrown her way, fielding questions, and doing whatever I could to ease her burdens, I was struck with the idea that I'm one step closer to being in that same position.

I've moved into an inner circle. (My father tells me I've become my mother.) It's one we must all enter and it's one we all dread. I am becoming the caregiver to my own parents. Thankfully both are in good health. They are actively enjoying their retirement. Yet now there is this hovering weight. They will decline, either slowly or quickly. They will need me to be involved in their lives, not as a daughter who looks up to her parents and seeks their help and advice, but as one who can help them navigate the new waters they will face as the aging process impacts their daily lives. What this will entail is still just a speculation, but it will happen, and it is closer than I want it to be.

Death comes to each of us. We can put if off as long as possible, do what we can to prevent it, but it will come. What remains then is how we live each day. My grandmother had a full life. She and Grandpa fell in love while she was in high school. Her parents that he was too old for her, but allowed them to correspond. When he enlisted they became pen-pals while he was in Europe during WWII. They even had their own code so she would know where he was. It apparently was good enough to pass through the government censors. They were married 63 years before Grandpa passed and she spent her 69th with him in heaven. They raised 4 children together and when she was crippled with arthritis, Grandpa packed up the family and moved them to Arizona. Grandma visited my family as she could at the various military bases where we lived. She and Grandpa even came to England when we were over there. Oh the stories we still tell about that visit! Six years ago, following the death of Grandpa, she moved here to be with her daughter, my mother. My sister and I loved having her so close. Our children, her great-grandchildren, got to know her and hear she stories. She passed on her love of God to her children, grandchildren, and great-grandchildren. As a child, I was blessed to have her teach me how to make real lemonade with the lemons she grew and how to make a good pie crust just by feel. Oh I'm sure at one time there was a recipe, but by the time Grandma taught me to make a pie, she'd perfected the technique so that all she had to do was run her hand through the floor to know how much fat and water to add. She was full of life and spunk! I miss her and feel the loss of her in my life.

I know that who I am is a measure of who she was. Her parenting molded my mother who in turn shaped me. Her influence has been quiet and will be long lasting. The lessons I learned at her side are lessons I've passed on to my own children. I watched her through a child's eyes and loved her. In my adulthood, I learned to see my mother as a woman through her stories. As I age, her example will guide me as I too become a grandmother. (To my children-I won't be ready for at least another 10 years!)

Sheep M 9/29/09

Tea Time

2009-09-06T04:47:00.000-07:00

Faithful are the words of a friend

Yesterday I spent the day with my best friend. She and I have known each other forever, it seems. In fact it's only been about 16 years, but we just 'click' in the way true friends do.

It doesn't happen as often as we'd like, but when our schedules mesh and we have time, we plan a marathon tea party. We've been known to start in the morning and talk our way through to supper time or beyond. We've learned over the years to clear our day and just relax in the warmth of our friendship. We just slow down and unwind in each other's presence.

There is no topic that is off limits. We don't judge each other or try to fix the other's problems. We listen and share and when the cups are empty and the pot's run dry (if we don't rush to make more) we both leave feeling refreshed and ready to take on the mantel of our lives again.

Yesterday, my friend asked me what I'm doing for me. Such a simple question. Or so it seemed. I think I answered with a simplistic answer and the tide of conversation flowed on. Writing in my journal that night, I revisited the question and realized how deep that question went.

As women, we rarely DO for ourselves. We DO for children, family, parents, spouse, friends, organizations, churches, but for ourselves? I don't know about you, but my day is full of children, work, housework, and then bed. To get up the next day and start again. My tea party with my friend is one of the few times I put away all the 'shoulds' and 'havetos' and just relax, knowing that this time is special.

I began this year with a resolution to do more for myself. To count myself as worthy as every other project and person in my life that I do for. Yet here it is Sept and I've let that resolution slip by. Well, thankfully, I have a friend who cares enough to remind me that I'm important. Not just in our tea time together, but every day.

So I begin again- to work into each day, some activity that is just for me. Whether it's blogging or drawing or writing or reading or sewing-I have a lot of interests so it shouldn't be that difficult. Making the time to do it, well that's another issues all together.

Sheep M 9/6/09

Sheep M's hoof biting

2009-08-31T16:30:00.000-07:00

I'm sure my last post had you all thinking that I live the sentiment of the poem-whatever is, is best. Don't I wish it were that easy! After living and walking through the wilderness the past three years, ( previous posts will explain somewhat) you would think that when I get such an encouraging poem, I'd stop and check myself to see if it might be more than just an encouraging poem.

Blind sheep that I am, I simply thought the poem was worth sharing. After all, it meant a lot to me and wonderful things ought to be shared.

WHAM! Right out of left field-a test! Not just some little something that even in the midst of it you know that it will be OK. Nope! This was a gut wrenching episode in which fear, anger, angst, 'what if's', and all the rest of the peace stealers played their part.

There is no way to save myself from this- so the silver lining is that this situation is what it is. I can't change any part of it, except how I receive it.

Hence the lesson of the poem. Whatever is-is best. I can't see that right now. I'm biting my hooves reminding myself that I can't fix this and that God allowed this in my life for a reason. (I can't come up with anything that remotely makes sense to me, but that's why I'm the blind sheep and not the Shepherd)

The God graciously led me to this passage as I prayed about my situation.

"If God gives such attention to the appearance of wildflowers—most of which are never even seen—don't you think he'll attend to you, take pride in you, do his best for you? What I'm trying to do here is to get you to relax, to not be so preoccupied with getting, so you can respond to God's giving. People who don't know God and the way he works fuss over these things, but you know both God and how he works. Steep your life in God-reality, God-initiative, God-provisions. Don't worry about missing out. You'll find all your everyday human concerns will be met. Give your entire attention to what God is doing right now, and don't get worked up about what may or may not happen tomorrow. God will help you deal with whatever hard things come up when the time comes." Matt 6:31-34

I wept when I read this familiar passage. God loves me! How simple that sounds, but how deep an impact! This trouble being visited on me isn't a surprise to Him. He prepared my heart before my ears ever heard about it. Reminding me that He is my today and He is enough! Tomorrow is His too, and He will be there waiting on me to bless me then with what I need.

I can't promise to never fear or fret, bite my hooves, or borrow trouble with 'what if'- but I am at peace knowing who holds tomorrow and that He is fully able to care for me!

Sheep M 8/31/09

Better Eyesight

2009-08-22T07:21:00.000-07:00

Whatever is-is Best

I know, as my life grows older,

and mine eyes have clearer sight,

that under each rank wrong somewhere

there lies the root of Right;

that each sorrow has its purpose,

by the sorrowing oft unguessed;

but as sure as the sun brings morning,

whatever is-is best.

I know that each sinful action,

as sure as the night brings shade,

is somewhere, sometime punished,

tho' the hour be long delayed.

I know that the soul is aided

sometimes by the heart's unrest,

and to grow means often to suffer-

but whatever is-is best.

I know there are no errors,

in the great Eternal plan,

and all things work together

for the final good of man.

And I know when my soul speeds onward,

in its grand Eternal quest,

I shall say as I look back earthward,

whatever is-is best.

Ella Wheeler Wilcox

I came across this poem at just the right time. I've been reading through the book of Habakkuk-a book that never fails to refocus me on what is truly important. I may not understand the circumstances or situations I face in this life, but all is well. Whatever is-is best!

Sheep M- 8/22/09

Finding what you're looking for

2009-08-15T09:46:00.000-07:00

Viva Las Vegas!

My Dad used to tell a story about two brothers leaving home. One was an optimist and the other a pessimist. They left by different paths and arrived at different times at the same gate leading into the same city. Outside the gate sat an old man who greeted each new comer and tried to help him find his way. When the first of the brothers arrived, the old man called out a greeting. The brother came closer and asked about the city beyond the gate. "What are you looking for?" the old man asked.

"A quite place with friendly people," responded the brother.

"You're in luck," said the old man. "This city is the friendliest place around. And for a large city, there are many neighborhoods that are peaceful."

The brother offered his thanks and went his way. Upon entering the city, he found exactly what the old man told him he would find.

Later that day, the other brother came to the same gate and was hailed by the same old man. When asked what he was looking for, the brother responded, "Well, I expect this city is like all others. Lots of crime and people just looking to get one over on me."

"Sadly young man, you have the right of it. This city is like all others. Be careful and watch your back." The brother entered the city and sadly found his prediction to be true. He was robbed within the first few hours.

My Dad usually told this story before we had to pack up and move to yet another state. This story helped me to develop a sense of adventure. Each new place offered a chance to meet new people, see new things! I developed a love of traveling.

This summer, with my sister, I started traveling again. In the past, we've talked and planned, but something always came up. This year, we were determined to do something just for us. When an invitation came to visit a friend in Vegas, we jumped at it.

For all I'd heard of Sin City-I loved it! Each day was too short to pack in all we wanted to see and do. Thankfully we had a guide who made sure we saw the best there was to see in the city and took us to other locations like a chocolate factory, Hoover Dam, and the Atomic Test Site Museum.

I'm full of awe and gratitude for the blessing of an open heart and the best of all Guides!

Sheep M 8/15/09

The Guilty Weight

2009-08-12T03:46:00.000-07:00

I can't believe how long it's been since I sat at my computer to write! This is supposedly a passion with me (writing), yet it seems to be the first thing that I let slide when the world closes in and the 'busies' take over. Eventually my life slows down and then there is another force that prevents me from just picking back up and writing.

The guilty weight. Ever feel that? It's self imposed, well... mainly. There can be those who use this tool to 'encourage', but the feeling is still the same. That there is something 'lacking', some essential characteristic missing. If I just had that, whatever it is, I wouldn't be in this spot, I wouldn't have allowed myself to get behind or allowed anything to slip passed me.

Every time I thought about posting another blog, I'd remember how long it had been since my last. WHAM! Hit with guilty weight, I'd question if I had anything worth saying, especially after so long a silence.

This morning, scribbling in my journal, it hit me. NOW is the time. This moment-stop putting it off, go get on the computer and just write. Live, move, breathe, and write in this moment.

Writer's block-gone! Guilty weight-gone!

Sheep M 8/12/09

Sheep C: Faith Temper Tantrum

2009-07-19T13:40:00.000-07:00

I’ve suffered more than a few “slings and arrows of outrageous misfortune” lately—again. (And thank you, Shakespeare, for such an apt turn of phrase). I know I’m whining, but life just does not seem to let up with the slams recently.

I try to console myself by comparing my lot in life with others who, admittedly, have it worse than me. I think the hardest thing may be that I am just not used to being trashed by life, having led a charmed one for decades until it all caved two years ago. (Whew! Even I recognize the heights of whining here). Really, all the comparison game has done for me recently is to cause me to actually look more closely at others’ pain, add it on to mine, and just wail to God, “Why, on earth, did you set things up this way?” I mean, honestly, would you allow all this meanness in the world if you were in charge? I'm just sayin'...

So, this causes a little crisis of faith with me. I start by thinking about how hard my little life seems to me (which is “very” right now) and then thinking about how hard someone in, oh, say, Rwanda, must think theirs is. It is enough to make me question everything. If God is love, then what is all this about, anyway?
I’m really honest with God, about this. I don’t even try to put these feelings in that room in my spirit where I don’t let Him see—He knows about this, so I’m not talking behind His back. I may as well tell you about it, too.

God actually appears to be quite fine with my stomping around, questioning Him and all. He just continues do his “higher ways” thing, just like He’s, well, GOD or something.

But I must admit that troubles cause me to ponder things I never allowed myself to ponder.

I move from just thinking God isn’t paying attention to thinking that He has made some mistake about all things turning to good for us. And then I move right along to the ultimate: Is there even really anyone “up there?” Are we just making all this up as we go along? It sure does not make sense that God would create something only to have it in such a fine mess—so, maybe “he” didn’t—maybe this whole universe is just creaking along on its own and we’re all duped into some cheery afterlife fantasy by our need to cope or, worse yet, by some conspiracy (who, though?) using religion as control of the masses—you know, Sheep Herding…keeping us acting better because of some carrot of heaven balanced by the stick of hell.

But, then, I snap back, really secure in my knowing God, so I don’t stay an atheist very long. And that leads me back full circle, pondering God but this time with a tinge of “uh-oh.” Is He upset at my faith wanderings/wonderings? Nope, I don’t think so, and I thank Him that he gave us some stories in His book just to allay these fears:

There's Elijah, who mightily out-maneuvered the priests of Baal and single-handedly burned up that soaking wet wood (well God actaully did) then slaying all the Baal priests as they stood in astonishment. He was so mighty in his faith in God. But what happened when Jezebel showed a little chagrin? Elijah, who had been so mighty in the Lord, ran and hid! From one woman! I love it that God not only did not smite him, He came and just said, “What are you doing here?!” and fed him and provided water. He knew how weak Elijah was. (Look at 1 Kings 18 and 19 for this story).

John the Baptist was such a strong figure: “Make way for the Lord!!” Standing up to everyone, including Herod (taking him on for shenanigans with his brother’s wife). But, then John went to jail. And what did he do? He sent one of his guys to Jesus to ask if he could have made a mistake (and I paraphrase rather loosely here): “I’m down here in jail because of you…please tell me I haven’t made the biggest mistake of my life, because this jail is not so good, and my future doesn’t look so good, and I need to really know…” Again, Jesus patiently instructed the runner to return and tell John, and, again I paraphrase loosely, “It’s okay, John, just think about all these miracles and calm down…” (To see the real words of Jesus, read Matthew 11).

And, then, there was that whole Peter fiasco in the 22nd chapter of Luke. You know, the Rock on which the church was to built? The one who denied even known the Lord at the first stumble?

So, I have good company in my wonderings, and I’m really not afraid of offending God, given the examples He chose to leave in His Word for me.

But it feels good to be open about it with you, and the writing about it causes me to analyze and examine. That little exercise of remembering how frail the mighty men of God in the Bible were has reminded me of His presence in my life and helped my attitude already.
Thanks! Sheep C

C: The Cote Meeting and Rest

2009-06-26T19:57:00.000-07:00

Last weekend was a busy weekend. First, there was the flurry of trying to get my house in order enough to host our Three Blind Sheep dinner Saturday night. M and S are good friends and totally non-judgmental about my messiness (or seem to be, anyway), but it sure does bother me to have folks into my usual disarray. Throwing things out of sight took a little time and effort! They arrived mid-afternoon and I was as ready as I was ever going to be, just giving up on what remained.

We sat and talked and talked and talked as only the three of us can. We talked about our lives, we talked about a recent church conference, we talked about God and plans and food supply v. population and nanotechnology (about which NONE of us has a clue, but we loved talking about it), and on and on—you can see that our conversation covered lots of ground. We had not been able to be together like this in a very long time, and few other people are wacky enough to tolerate these random wonderings and soundings. Really, we need each other for this.

I don’t think we moved from the table all evening except for short bathroom trips and when I got up to throw steaks on and heat the rest of the easy-fix dinner. It was fun, it was restful, and it was restorative.

M stayed the night and, after we talked til noon, I went out a couple of hours to ride first on the tractor, bush hogging, and then the lawn mower around the large yard to the side of my house. On those implements I do lots of thinking, and I thought a lot about the evening with my friends and how restful it all was in spite of my frantic cleaning frenzy.

In fact, I found myself thinking how restful my tractor and lawn mower were! It was hot (90’s), but the humming of the mowing, the smell of the grass and the visible strips of progress as the grass became shorter were all mesmerizingly relaxing! Such a paradox! Activity—even hot activity— can be restful, which led my ADD mind to consider the meaning of rest. I think that for me “rest” equates with “peace.”

Of course, the first Bible verse that comes to my mind when I think of rest is Jesus’ saying:

Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy and my burden is
light. -- Matthew 11:28-30

I pretty-much know for a fact that Jesus did not mean exclusively the lying-on-the-couch kind of rest, here (although that can, obviously, be rest, too). He meant, rather something He calls “rest for your souls.” Again, for me, this equals “peace.”

I had considered just lying around all afternoon after M left, watching old movies and eating junk food rather than working in the hot sun. That actually sounded more like rest at first. I had earned this—it was easily justified after my stressful week with not enough time (besides, I have a lazy streak a MILE wide…). But, you know, that grass beckoned to me. It isn’t so much that I was stressed out about the state of my lawn and surroundings. It was more like the grass mowing was calling me in an alluring way, as something pleasant awaiting me.

So, off I went, because lying on the couch, while restful to my body, would not have been restful to my soul. It was the right choice. It gave me time to think about that nanotechnology thingy S was talking about last night. It was restful, and it was peaceful.

One of the paradoxes of the spirit! I loved being with my friends--even the work to prepare for them was restful...pure peace! - C

The Divergent Path

2009-06-25T03:48:00.000-07:00

A new season is upon me! One that has been slowly making it's appearance and yet has now suddenly burst forth. Like spring after a harsh winter, the signs appear long before the warmth.

If only the signs were easier to see and interpret in my emotional landscape as they are in the physical.

Motherhood is one of the scariest things I've ever attempted! It has also been filled with the most blessings. I tell myself that I've done a good job seeing each of my children as individuals, not as extensions of myself or chances for me to 'get it right' this time around. Each has their own ideas of what works and what doesn't. It's taken me years to figure out how to facilitate these differences. It's been my privilege to tutor and make safe their paths up to a point.

Having said that, I am discovering that there resides in me the idea that these children I've nurtured will behave in ways that are fairly predictable and follow along a path similar to my own. That having laid a foundation, they will build upon it.

Not so! Or so it appears right now- My oldest is striking out on her own! The signs have been there for nearly two years. She's celebrated her 18th birthday, graduated from high school, entered the 'real' world of work, registered to vote; all those grown up activities that seem so fresh and appealing when we are first inducted into adulthood.

And she's done a good job. I'm proud of the young lady she's become/becoming.

Enter the divergent path. She's not chosen to do anything illegal or even morally questionable. She has simply chosen to pursue an idea/way of life that is foreign to me. Foreign to the way I raised her. I have no way of knowing this path, of clearing it of dangers, of preparing her to walk this unknown landscape.

" For we walk by faith, not by sight" 2 cor 5:7

Exactly what a blind sheep should be doing. Only I forget! Especially in areas I still think I have control over-like my children! HA! The season of letting go is upon me. I've known for years it would come. I've seen the signs. Now my heart is being opened, stretched as I am learning to step back and trust that I've prepared this child for life. Life apart from me.

Just as I am blindly following and trusting my good shepherd, this child of mine (no longer a child) must take up her own journey of faith and blindness. She must learn to hear and walk accordingly.

May the road rise to meet you,

May the wind be always at your back,

May the sun shine warm upon your face,

The rains fall soft upon your fields and,

Until we meet again,

May God hold you in the palm of His hand.

Sheep M 6/25/09

Sheep M's sunflowers

2009-06-19T07:13:00.000-07:00

The sunflowers are in bloom in my garden! They were lovingly planted 3 years ago by a dear friend when I was staying in the hospital with my son. I've let that patch to go wild-more like am overwhelmed with all that tasks that fall to my lot now to micromanage this one spot of beauty.

The sunflower has long been one of my favorite flowers. It's beautiful and useful, but perhaps the most wonderful thing about it is the reminder to always follow the light.

Each of us have and will continue to experience dark days. Days that make no sense in any rational way. Days that must be walked through with hope and faith. The sunflower, despite the circumstances, follows the track of the sun throughout the day.

A recent sermon sparked an inner discussion. The sermon was about opening a can of worms (wonderful lesson!) In the sermon, the preacher alluded to the myth of Pandora and her box. The details he shared are fairly common-curious female given box by the gods and told not to open. Well, she did exactly as expected and opened the box. Now there is a bit of discussion as to what the box contained. One version has it that she released on the world all the current woes. Another that she released all the good things that make life worthwhile, thus leaving mortals with all the woes without all the blessings.

In either version, she manages to hold onto only one thing-HOPE. Hope that there is more. More of whatever it is that makes each of us take that next step, take the risk, endure the present trouble.

So, my inner discussion? What is hope?

I suppose there are many answers to this question, each based on individual experiences. Oh the stories we could tell!

What it comes down to for me: hope is an uncontrollable element, unlike the other things released from Pandora's box. I can't produce it or manipulate it. Hope is a gift from God, given to me to lighten the dark moments of my days. Giving evidence that what I can see isn't all there is. In my loneliness, I am not alone. There is always light, expressed in a multitude of ways and through many means.

And so we return to sunflowers- a beautiful gift from a generous heart.

Sheep M 6/19/09

Sheep C: Lost in the Flock?

2009-06-17T03:59:00.000-07:00

Being single again can be real drag. I have wonderful friends and family, but they have their own stuff going on, so sometimes I’m just left to be a big girl and handle things on my own. I can really stick my bottom lip out about that, feeling sorry for myself. It was kind of that way this past week. I spent more than a little time saying “poor me.”

To me, my situation is huge. I have been betrayed. I have been abandoned. I have been wronged. I have been dealt hardships. I am lonely. I am alone in my worries. (Can you hear the “whine” in these words?) Should I go on and on? I can, believe me; I proved that to myself again just this week. And then I saw, of all things, a bumper sticker that just put everything in perspective. It said:

It’s only
one-six-billionth about you.

Probably because I needed to hear it so badly, this message was almost jarring to me. Wow! You mean to tell me that it’s not all about me? A picture flashed through my mind. Here is what I saw:

Now, when I have been down in the past, I have tried the comparison thing to help me count my blessings. It is my profession to deal with people in my same marital boat. In terms of objective factors, my situation is so much better than that of many of my clients. I have said many times (maybe even in this blog) that Sheep M’s situation humbles me when I compare it to mine. Still, as Sheep M graciously pointed out to me, knowing that others are having a harder time really doesn’t help all that much. You can only feel your own situation.

But this bumper-sticker thought got to me in a way that my own comparison game did not. I thought about all that God sees. The Scripture that came to my mind was Psalm 50:10, where the Lord says that the cattle (sheep?) on a thousand hills are His.

Oh, dear! He sees it all, and then, way down here in the American south is little Sheep C, bleating about being a little lonely (a good part of that being by her own self-imposed isolation so she can pout). It made me feel humble and small, indeed. And, for some reason, it made my troubles seem smaller (thank you, Lord!). Yes, it brought relief! I think I’m going to put that bumper sticker on my office wall so I can keep it fully in mind.

I pondered this six-billion-sheep thing while I was on the lawn mower Sunday afternoon. Does that mean that I don’t count; that my troubles are too small for God to worry about? Maybe heaven’s switchboard lady-angel (think Lily Tomlin) is saying, “Sorry, He’s very busy right now with that starvation thing in Africa and that war deal in Iraq. You know, honey, your problems are way down the line for Him, just wait your turn.”

No, I don’t feel that way at all. Knowing that God has the sheep on a thousand hills to tend only helps me sharpen my perspective. For some reason it does not make me feel neglected or small in his eyes. And I thought about that, too. Why is that? If He really has six billion sheep, who am I to even think He knows my name, let alone about my troubles. I mean, if I were God, I wouldn’t give my situation so much as a second thought. I’d be saying things like, “She’s got a roof and plenty (oh, yeah, plenty) of food, yadayadayada. I’ll deal with her later—maybe—because in the broad scheme she’s perking along pretty fine on her own.”

But that’s not true, either. And God is not me (again, thank you, Lord!). His priorities are different than ours…I believe that we are all and each His number one priority. It’s a God thing—only He can do this, but parents who have multiple children must see a glimpse of this, loving each child the same AND the most.

I am reminding of another saying that buoyed me one time. I think it would make a good bumper sticker, too:

God loves each of us as if there were only one of
us. --St. Augustine.

So, hope you can take heart, too, that you are one of His six-billion-plus-strong flock and that you—yes you!—are the most important!--Sheep C.

Sheep C: Sheep Lessons from a Toad

2009-06-15T05:15:00.000-07:00

Since I started writing on a couple of blogs, I’ve been much more interested in my camera. So many blogs have gorgeous photography, of which I am envious. I don’t aspire to that, but I do think that pictures liven stories up, so I’ve started actually packing my camera most of the time. One never knows when one might want to snap a picture to spread across the worldwide web!

I got inspired this past weekend to work on my rock/flower garden in the front of the house and had my trusty camera hanging from my belt loop. This is not my strong suit, gardening of any type. I love to see flowers; I just don’t like working at them. But, I am finding that gardening is a good way to think and to hear God. And it can make my place look better (that is if I ever actually finish a project).

Part of my task was to move some large, flat stones that we had used to outline some little individual areas. I was watching closely, worrying that I might run across a snake under one of them. My neighbor has reported several already this year. I encountered a few grub worms, many earthworms (some very large!) and a couple of scurrying bugs, but nothing to make me shriek.

I set aside one rock to discover a toad. How do they do that—fit under something that should squash them flat? In fact, I know for a fact that it did squash him flat; I know enough physics to figure that one out. But the amazing thing is that he doesn’t stay squashed.

The toad gave a momentary flinch as I moved the rock and then just sat still as stone. I sat back to look at him and, as I did my change in posture must have made my dog Scout (ever the helper) believe I would now give her the attention she so richly deserved. She hopped over the pile of stones and plopped right down next to the toad. I had a flash of concern as she did, thinking the toad might hop away and Scout might pounce on him. Still, he did not move. He just sat there. Can you spot him in the picture below? He's just to your right of Scout's foot; I've put a little circle around him.

"Instinct," I thought. "He knows he's almost hidden by staying still. If he moves, he'll have to deal with that dog or with me, so he's just staying put...counting on not being noticed"

Then something said, "He's being still, listening to God."

I had a flash of Scripture:

Be still and know that I am God... Psalm 46:10

"Nah!" said my brain, "He's not listening to God; he's being still because of instinct--you were right the first time."

But the more I thought about it, I have decided that a toad's instinct and listening to God may just be the same thing.

I thought about how my Sheep's brain analyzes everything, how that brain and its logic can cause me to plot and plan myself right into trouble. Rush, rush, rush; my brain tries to figure it out, take charge and run myself right into trouble, just because I did not stop and talk to God about something and listen to Him.

There is a way that seems right to a man, but
its end is the way of death. Proverbs 14:12

And then there's fear. Being in fear almost never causes me to "be still," like the toad. It can cause me to stampede headlong, never stopping to listen to God and understand that He is in control, taking care of things whether I know it or not.

The Lord will fight for you; you need only to be still. Exodus 14:14

So the toad taught me what? 1) be still, and maybe your enemy will not notice....2) be still and listen to and trust that voice of God, just like the toad did. You can't hear Him well when you're running...be still.

P.S. In the interests of full disclosure, let me say that when I excitedly explained the toad's lesson to my son, his reply was, "Mom, he's cold-blooded. He couldn't move. You'd just pulled a cool rock off of him, and he did not have enough umpf to move, that's all." So, it may not have been instinct or the voice of God at all...maybe that toad just was too darned cold to move....but I like my version better... And then maybe, just maybe, that regardless of the reason the toad was still, I heard the message God was speaking to me. So, there!

Basket Full

2009-04-12T04:25:00.000-07:00

My children are older now and I am finding a new pleasure in holiday traditions. There is the nostalgia of past holidays and the wistfulness of knowing that it won’t be long and the children will be gone. Life is full of seasons, each to be lived and enjoyed while it lasts.

This year as I was assembling Easter baskets, the phrase, ‘Don’t put all your eggs in one basket’ filtered through my mind. It’s a phrase we’ve all grown up with and probably adhere to without even realizing it. My mind wandered, as it’s prone to do, along a path that only a blind sheep could find.

You have to be a risk taker to place all your hopes in one thing. To believe that one person is worth all your effort. To leave no alternative plan in place, ‘just in case’. I don’t know that I could ever live like that. I mean, what if I did and it didn’t work out?
Then it hit me. God did just that! He placed all His plans in the form of His Son. His only Son. There was no Plan B (or any other letter for that matter) God’s plan of redemption rested completely on His Son. God placed all His hopes and dreams for humanity in a single person.

In turn, Jesus placed all of himself in His Father’s hands. He emptied himself to walk in obedience (blindness to his own will), willingly taking on the role Lamb. What an example to this blind sheep!

Happy Easter!

Sheep M 4/12/09

Fiery trails and other hot spots

2009-03-31T06:11:00.000-07:00

Well, for those of you who follow this rambling blog, it's been awhile since we've managed to post anything. That usually means we are, collectively or individually, walking through a hot spot. Not the first, and unfortunately not the last one for any of us. I can't speak for the other blind sheep, but it seems that once I decided to live my life in the 'blind' lane, choosing to listen to the voice of my shepherd and not the voice of the world- things have gotten a bit...warm!

I'm at the point of envying those Biblical friends who were in the furnace. They at least knew the size of their container and that the only options were going up in flames (rather quickly from the description of what happened to the guards) or being rescued.

I seem to be on a path, surrounded by flames. Blindness keeps me from knowing how long this fiery path extends or the actual size and shape of the flames. I may be blind but I can feel the warmth, smell the singed wool, and know that unless I listen carefully to the voice leading me forward, I don't stand a chance!

Trying to figure out an escape route or how to put out the flames isn't an option any longer. Trust is the only way. My blindness is actually my saving grace! Because I can't see, I can't make the situation worse or better. I can't control, can't pretend to be my own savior. I must remain weak and trusting.

My Shepherd holds my future in His loving hands. He knows the trials I must face, not to punish me, but to make me stronger. Not physically, but spiritually. Every fiery trial is a time of refining. More of the ego is burned away. The dross is brought to the surface and cleared away.

I'm not ready to throw a party or anything, but I am learning, in the midst of the flames, to 'Count it all joy."

Sheep M 3/31/09

The Sky is Falling!

2009-02-24T04:32:00.000-08:00

I am usually not much of a whiner, but a few weeks back, I entered into a season that was bleak. I truly felt like Chicken Little, "The sky is falling! The sky is falling!"

Everyday seemed to bring more bad news. I was being held accountable, not for my own mistakes, but for others' misdeeds. Friends were dumping on me- painful accounts from their own lives. Filling my head with their own pain and frustrations. My son's health came into question- doctors feared a relapse of his leukemia.

All I wanted to do was retreat. Find a cave, crawl in it, and pray that the mountain would crumble around me, sealing me in. Talk about a pity party!

The thing about pity parties-once you've rehashed all the stuff happening at the moment, you tend to bring up all the other stuff that was bad, wrong, hurt your feelings, etc. just so you can drag the party out as long as possible. At this point, you begin to feel justified in your emotions and it isn't long before the bitterness and blame set in.

You begin playing the game, "If only.." Ever play that? Well you can't win! Not ever. It just spirals on and on, a whirlpool of depression, that breeds pity parties!

What's a poor blind sheep to do?

I didn't get so much mad, as I got sick and tired of feeling like the mountains were crumbling and targeting me. I wanted to know, what in the Sam-hill God thought he was doing! I'd already been through more than my fair share of pain, and it was just piling up!

Know what? God showed me a beautiful picture of His mercy. He never promised the mountains wouldn't crumble. He never promised a life without pain. He never promised His love would protect me from all the junk this world throws my way.

He did promise to be there. To be with me in the midst of it all. And the picture- that although the sky is falling, He only allows one piece at a time to hit me. He's caught the falling sky, and holds it back dribbling one bit at a time through His loving hands. He knew all the stuff that was coming into my life, all the incidents that would mold and shape me, and He in His mercy did not allow me to be overwhelmed.

Indeed, His mercies are new each morning. Nothing comes to me, but through Him. I can rest in the peace that My Good Shepherd has the lay of the land and has declared all things good!

Sheep M 2/24/09

Sheep C: Light in the Sea

2009-02-04T02:56:00.001-08:00

Recently I went on a cruise, courtesy of my wonderful mother-in-law. We had a great time, she, my sisters-in-law, and I. All three of these women are Christians who make God an integral part of their lives. I went expecting to hear from God, expecting that I would spend time in the Word because these women with whom I was traveling are the kind who will encourage that. I was looking forward to it.

Well, that just did not happen. I did not have the expected time in the morning when I would pray and read my Bible. In fact, our trip did not seem to center on the Lord at all in the way that I had anticipated. Instead, it centered on rest and relationship. There was a time on the trip that I commented on this to my roommate/sister-in-law. It wasn’t that I was disappointed or felt badly about it. It’s just that it seemed odd. She felt the same way. In retrospect, I think God just wanted us to be together and enjoy one another, resting as we all needed to do so much. It was just right to have that kind of low-key downtime.

Other than that conversation, I confess that I did not think much about my lack of meditation or other spiritual exercise, so imagine my surprise when I clearly heard from God! (He surprises me that way.) I was standing on our balcony one night near the end of our cruise. In the faint light from the ship I could see the water kick up into little waves as the ship cut through it. The water was pitch black. There was really nothing to see out on the ocean; no lights, no forms.

As I stood mindlessly looking over the edge, I began to see lights coming from the deep. Little specks of glowing light, just small pricks here and there in groups. I knew some about the existence of bioluminescent marine life, being a veteran of National Geographic Magazine and Discovery channel. It was intriguing to watch in person.

As I watched these little lights in the sea, the strong message came over me that I should be mindful to watch for light in unexpected places. I wanted badly to make that message “watch for light in dark places,” after all the sea was dark, and I had been in a dark place the last two years. But that is not what was said. Rather, it was, “Watch for light in unexpected places.” (Although I can’t resist the last word on this: that dark places are unexpected places for the light!).

Standing on the ship I thought about all the unexpected ways God communicated with His people in the Bible stories: through a donkey, handwriting on the wall, a burning bush. Yes, there was definitely precedent for the God speaking in odd ways to people, although I guess for some any direct communication from God would be odd.

This ship experience came back to me this morning—a Sunday, nearly a month later. Early this morning I found an e mail awaiting me from an old friend. She inquired after me, and I replied to her, saying that I was “…taking it day-by-day,” adding that I have come to believe that the day we are in is all any of us have—not what happened in the past, not the future, just the present.

I was amazed to hear the sermon later in the morning on this very thing: living in the “now.” We must let go of the past and avoid worrying about the future. It was good to hear this on the heels of my own e-mail statement of that philosophy just earlier that morning. And it made me think of the message of the light in the seas once again, understanding that God had used e-mail (of all things) to reinforce to me something I needed this morning. The repetition of the theme caused me to pay attention and to reflect, as I needed to do. It was light from Him in an unexpected place.

So, what is the value to me of these little pinpricks of light coming from unexpected places? It isn’t that I have only now learned that we must let go of the past and not worry about the future. I have long known that intellectually—don’t always do that, but I know it. The point is not that the message was particularly profound, but rather that the message is being sent at all. I do, as a matter of fact, need to be reminded to let go of the past. But the really important point is that God speaks, and He does so in unexpected ways. The light comes from unexpected places. Sheep C, 2/3/09

The Paradox Zone!

2009-02-03T10:50:00.000-08:00

Today... I come to you from the depths of despair. I do not know why... but it is not something that I have become trapped in quickly. I feel like a blind sheep that has been walking down a path... all alone... trying to find the flock... trying to re-find joy and purpose and belonging and relationship.

The path appeared to become muddy but it's hard to tell when you cannot see. My feet felt heavy and each step took more and more energy until it became impossible to put one foot in front of the other.

The muddy path has turned into a mire of quicksand. The more I struggle or purpose to move ahead the deeper I sink. Choices, simple choices, are so difficult to make, or more accurately to follow through with.

The gravity of the paradox I am experiencing is distressing. I awake with NO energy each morning knowing in my head and desiring in my heart to pop out of bed and hit the floor running. That used to be such an effortless feat.

Get on the treadmill, workout, eat right, things that could help me feel better I cannot choose to do. I hate those words, cannot choose to do. It sounds utterly ridiculous in my head. I have more time right now to do the things than I have had in 5 years... writing, reading, working out, volunteering, visiting those in need... and yet I am stuck... somehow entrapped in this muddy heavy thing I cannot see.

I feel like a loser, like a whiner, like I need to tell myself to just get over it. What I am writing is incredulous to me. What a wimp! My house has become a refuge, can any other sheep identify with that, and yet staying here does not revive me. Whether it’s for a day, a weekend or Christmas break... there is no renewal, no revival, no rested feeling, and no new energy.

I am ready for my life to be reignited... at least I think I am. I know I am ready for something. The choices thing is confusing at the moment because I don't feel like I've got the oomph to choose anything. The following quote about choosing joy over despair... doesn't seem to be working.

“You have many choices. You can choose forgiveness over revenge, joy over despair. You can choose action over apathy....”
—Stephanie Marston; family therapist, author

Choosing action over apathy... gosh anyone can do that... you would think... and yet it aint working. My choosing never makes it out of my head. The action fails to materialize and I sink ever deeper into the mire.

I guess my ability... or strength to choose is really zero. I suppose it was always zero but I didn't like to think of myself that way. I can do this and I can do that and I was apparently quite deceived. I can choose joy and action as easily as you guys can choose to forgive the spouse who betrayed you, the pervert who abused your daughter or the drunk driver who took your son's life.

I know a sheep who has forgiven her ex-husband’s betrayal and yet, it wasn’t so much that she chose to do it as it was that it was done for her. I am now mumbling words that may have no substance but it seemed that the pain and heaviness of not forgiving him (the anger, bitterness, hurt, anguish and worse) became more than she could bear... so it was let go from her. I would say, "She chose" but I don't think she did or could... for a while she didn't even want too.

You may be a sheep that is experiencing rejection, betrayal, aloneness or loss of a loved one. You may feel that you are unable to choose to forgive. Is that a bad place to be? I can tell you it's a miserable place to be.

What I do know is that I don't seem to be able to choose. I feel I am at the end of my rope and there is no knot to hang on to. Not only is there no knot but some sheep… or shepherd has coated the whole thing with Vaseline! I can't hold on any longer!

Is this where you are? If so... you are in a good place. Why, because you've given up on your own strength. You have realized that you are not in charge... you are not in control... you have indeed entered the twilight zone... the outer limits... or better yet... because it's way beyond that... the Paradox Zone!

That strange place where those who are bankrupt, empty and at the end of their slipery rope receive the Kingdom. A place where those who mourn are comforted and those who are sick receive the Physician. Where those who claim they see are in fact blind and those who are blind find that they can see.

It's a really wierd place this Paradox Zone. Those who are weak find they are strong and the meek... well... they inherit the earth. The Twilight Zone never acheived this level of twisted reality! If you hunger and thirst in this realm... you are satisfied... how wierd is that.

And how do you find this Paradox Zone? You don't... it finds you. As we reach the place of not being able to live life our way, in our strength, with our agenda we finally just wear out and give in. We cry 'uncle'! I can't do it anymore. I can't pull it off anymore! I am woreout, I am tired, I am depleated of my ideas and my strength and I can't go on.

Suddenly the sets of our lives, not our TV sets, get squiggly lines in them and everything seems to change. We are no longer in control... and we hear from somewhere deep within... "Do not adjust your dial, do not try to take control of your life."

And then the invitation comes... quietly yet firmly it rises from deep within... "Come all who are weary, woreout, tired and heavy laden... Come and I will give you rest... I will give you Life!" But that makes no sense... exactly! You are no longer in Kansas miss Dorothy... you are no longer in the world of your vain imaginations... you are now in the Paradox Zone!

“To love means loving the unlovable. To forgive means pardoning the unpardonable. Faith means believing the unbelievable. Hope means hoping when everything seems hopeless.”
—G.K. Chesterton (1874-1936); writer, critic

Does that sound like a Paradox to you? My inner feeling is that I am anchored in a yucky heavy muddy mire of hopelessness. My hope is that in the midst of this hopelessness... HOPE will come and rescue me! I hope that the recognition of my inability to choose... it's always been that way whether I believed it or not... will release HOPE to rise up within me and place me back on the firm path.

Without hopelessness there's no need for HOPE, without devastating wounds, betrayal and trauma there is no need for forgiveness and without blindness there is no need for eye salve to see.

I am very needy... I am very blind and I am very weak... I am a sheep who is ready to be found and taken over in the Paradox Zone!

Come to me all who are weary and heavy laden and I will give you rest

When I am weak… then I am strong

He who says he sees… is blind, He who is blind… sees

Blessed are the poor in Spirit, blessed are they that mourn, blessed are the meek, the weak, the blind, the sick, the lame, the outcast and the needy... for they receive the Kingdom... they receive the King!

New ears on an old sheep

2009-01-29T06:31:00.000-08:00

“Listen to the mustn’ts, child. Listen to the don’ts. Listen to the shouldn’ts, the impossibles, the won’ts. Listen to the never haves, then listen close to me…Anything can happen, child. Anything can be.”
-Shel Silverstein

This new path I’m walking, or maybe not so new as just newly recognized, calls for a new way of living. Living by listening. Not just hearing, as that is a rather passive thing. Listening requires more than ears, it requires my whole being.

I am turning inward, seeking attunement with the still small voice of my guide, my shepherd. I can’t see the path ahead of me-blindness does that to one. I’ve surrendered the idea of control of what comes next and am residing in that hoof-biting place of releasing control and then attempting to take it back. I am after all a sheep!

I am learning, ever so slowly, that I can trust completely in my shepherd. He’s already determined the safe path, the fresh grass, the pure water- and then he’s led me there. I don’t wander alone, for he is always with me.
Sheep M 1/29/09

(The picture is supposed to show the sheep resting-not dead. Although sometimes I can’t tell the difference!)

My Life

2009-01-17T18:02:00.000-08:00

As I begin to take my first faltering steps down this path of self-discovery, my first task is to examine the labels I carry with me. Mine are plenty and each of us could easily come up with half a dozen or so that we wearily bear. Labels that not only define us, but limit our own vision of ourselves.

We are born with a label-our gender. Not so much nowadays, but that was once a powerful determiner in what dreams were available. Then our birth order label was handed over. Consider high school, or rank, ACT/SAT score, college… This list of academic achievements or lack thereof piles on the labels. School itself is a means of self-labeling as we attempt to define our very self by what degree we achieve or profession we enter. Marriage state-happy, unfulfilled, single, divorced, co-habitating. Add to this children, stay at home ness or professional life, size of income and the things that can add to the growing list. Our relationships label us. Are we the kind of friend one can call in the middle of the night with any assurance of help? Are we a giver or receiver?

Up until a few years ago, I didn’t think much of labels. Oh I knew I carried some around and had grown comfortable with their weight. There was a measure of safety in them. At any given time I knew what was expected of me because of those very labels. They were my ‘Rules for a Happy Life’. As long as I behaved within the confines of those labels and didn’t stray too far afield, I felt confident in my ability to have, if not the life I’d dreamed of, a life worth being proud of.

The first crack of any consequence came in the form of a change. A good change as it turned out. My family went from being active members of one church to being part of another. Gone almost immediately was my label of Sunday School teacher. As the new year started, I wasn’t asked to serve my new church. Others before me had taught and would be asked to live within that label. I served on no committee and the distance from the church made it difficult to be as involved as I had been with my old church. I went through a mild time of crisis as I sought to find a definition for myself in this new place.

The second crack was the most personally devastating. My marriage ended. It was a slow and painful death. I spent much time in denial and trying to convince myself that there was still something I could do to fix it. When my attempts weren’t enough, I became busy. Busy as a way to push away the pain, to conceal the dismay at one of my labels failing me. I was a wife. I had defined and limited myself to that label. I had done my part and the label was supposed to do its. For a few short weeks, I was adrift trying to identify and define the new label I bore-single again.

The last crack tore my carefully crafted world apart. My son, my only son, was stricken with ALL, an acute form of leukemia. All my striving to be a good mom, couldn’t keep my children healthy! In the days after the diagnosis, my mind awhirl, all my labels were rendered null and void. It no longer mattered what I was, what I’d done, what had been done to me.

My son’s journey toward wellness became my journey as well. All the old concepts were thrown out. I examined everything! Yes, I still had titles, but where once they had defined me, now I was in a place to make my own definitions.

I am still in that place. Defining myself without limiting the possibilities of me. Seeking who I am, not what I am. I am discovering anew, the joy of a childlike faith in myself. I am not limited by labels-I have survived their betrayal and like a phoenix, am arising from the flames. I am…..

As a reread this before posting, I realized this is not the article I had thought I would write, but one that I needed to release. I am still in process. The journey has begun, but I am a long way from completing it.

Sheep M 1/17/09

What Are You Smiling At?

2009-01-14T08:28:00.000-08:00

A moment ago, just before typing these letters I yawned. No big deal, we all yawn at one time or another. But a minute or two before that I had read the word ‘yawn’, a coincidence? I don’t think so.

There are things in this world that are highly contagious and infectious. A yawn is one of them. A smile is another. Try it sometime! When you find yourself in a group of people start yawning and see what happens or start smiling and see what happens. Our actions and even our facial expressions have an impact on those around us.

If you keep smiling eventually an epidemic will break out and the whole airport, school or Café will enter in. Why am I telling you this… because you have something that is contagious. You have something that has the potential to multiply and explode.

What is it you ask? It’s a germ, a highly contagious unstoppable force that breeds and spreads like wild fire. When World War I came to an end the good news spread throughout Europe in a matter of hours. They didn’t have cell phones or laptops and most lines of communication had been destroyed by the fighting. How did it spread? How did it cover thousands and thousands of miles so quickly? It spread by word of mouth.

You have a contagion, a virus, a smile or a yawn that will generate excitement and change. The world is looking for an answer… you have an answer for them. The answer is so simple that many of us have been afraid to share it. The answer is good news… the good news that we are loved, accepted, forgiven and needed. God has prepared the way… the war has already been won! God needs us… not to do something for Him... but to join Him in the celebration… because we are a part of Him.

So what should you do? It’s really pretty simple… open your mouth! You cannot share your smile, your yawn or your life unless you open your mouth. Some of you started with your friends and family and someone frowned at you. Maybe they even sneered and the corner of their mouth curled slightly. Did you immediately clam up or did you go right on smiling, yawning and sharing what you had found.

Even if Aunt Gertrude gave you the most awful scowl known to man you still have a choice. Give up and quit or keep smiling. Eventually if you keep going, keep smiling, keep yawning, keep sharing in a positive way even Aunt Gertrude is going to smile. She may not smile at you… but she will smile at Uncle Clarence cause he just won’t quit and his smile is hilarious with those teeth missing!

There is something about smiles and good news that we don’t understand. When we smile somewhere between one-third and one-half of those around us are effected and end up smiling as well. As they continue on their journey smiling they in turn effect one-third to one-half of the people they come in contact with. Before long we have an epidemic.

Many think it happens over night, it doesn’t. The epidemic proportions appear over night but the incubation period was set in motion long before. In math this is called a geometric progression… what most of us would call exponential growth. How does it work? Consider the following example.

Take a large piece of paper and fold it in half and then in half again. Do this 25 more times until you have folded it a total of 50 times. How tall will the piece of paper be? I actually tried this a minute ago. I got to 7 times and then it was too difficult to fold. I measured it and found it to be about one-half an inch.

Using a calculator I doubled it 43 more times. The result… about 4 and a half trillion inches or 366 billion feet or nearly 70 million miles! Our linear finite minds cannot get wrapped around this type of progression… and yet there it is in black and white... we would need a telesccope to see that it reaches most of the way to the sun!

We are a part of something that has only been folded a few times. Right now, it still looks small and it’s hard to imagine what it can become. For those of us who know we are loved, who know we are accepted, who know that God is Love and that He is good and He always wins and always redeems… there is an unstoppable contagion in us that is going to spread and grow and multiply no matter what.

So what should we do? Me, I plan to keep on smiling! There’s nothing worse than a bunch of smiling sheep to get things stirred up. Everyone will want to know what you’re up to, what’s going on, why is everybody smiling? Who knows… maybe they’ll even ask for the reason for the HOPE within you?

Why am I smiling? Why do I have hope? I have hope because I know it’s not up to me. I know I can’t pull it off. I know I’m not in charge and I’m not in control. It’s Christ in me, the Hope of glory. I am in Him, He is in me and we are one. We are connected, interconnected and pumping God’s DNA through every part of our bodies, we were created in His image you know?!

Why am I smiling? I’m smiling because I have received “GOOD NEWS”… GOD LOVES ME! Whether I know it, believe it or not doesn’t change the facts. He loves me and wants me and needs me. Are you smiling? If not, why not? He loves you every bit as much as He loves me. Truth is… He loves everyone! The GOOD NEWS is for everyone!

Some become angry when they hear that God loves everyone. Some want an exclusive club, they want to make sure they get there fair share of love, like God might not have enough for all of us.

Others get angry because they can’t believe God would forgive such horrible people. They can’t understand that each and every one of us belongs to Him. They can’t fathom an unconditional love that is so deep, so real and so pure that it pursues us until it has us.

I want to continue... but it’s already too long.

Until next time… KEEP SMILING!

What's a Sheep to Believe?

2009-01-07T19:54:00.000-08:00

It doesn’t matter what we believe! What matters is who we are… or better yet… whose we are. We are who we are. At 2 years old I was Sheep S, at 8 I was Sheep S, at 13 I was Sheep S, at 21 I was Sheep S and at 50-something… well… I’m still Sheep S! I am who I am regardless of what I believe.

We tend to believe what we have seen, heard and experienced. The old world believed the earth was flat… was it… no. Did their mistaken ‘worldview’ make them bad people… no, of course not? They were still moms, dads, brothers, sisters, readers, writers, sheep, Johns, Carols, and Pams… they were still just people. Were they any less inhabitants of this round non-flat earth… no!

Many people today don’t believe God is good. Does this make them bad people? Does it change who they really are? Their mistaken ‘worldview’ or what they believe about God does not change the fact that they are a part of God… a good God… who loves them unconditionally.

Though they have not seen or heard or experienced the circumference of His goodness they still LIVE within it!

The people of times past could not grasp or imagine living on a world that was round. It made no sense. If the world were round it would fall apart… people would fall off, oceans and mountains would be sucked into the sky.

They could not comprehend… with their minds… until they saw it, felt it, heard it, experienced it and talked about it with others who had done the same.

It is no different today. We cannot comprehend a God who loves all, is in all and redeems all. It makes no sense. Our minds can’t grasp it and it would cause our religious worlds to fall apart. Yet as we hear it and see it and experience it… and hear it from others who are experiencing it… we begin to believe.

We are all a part of each other. We are all on the same journey… the journey of hearing and seeing and knowing that God is good, God is love, God never fails, and God always redeems and wins back all that is His.

All that is… all that was spoken into existence… all that has life breathed into it… is His.

He is already in us; He’s already in the trees, the rocks, the plants, the sea, the air and the animals. Red, yellow, black, white, brown, Australian, Chinese, Iraqi, Muslim, atheist, and yes… even Christians… we are all one… all a part of each other… all connected thru God’s DNA.

If we don’t believe… does it leave us out? Did the people of the 1400’s still live on the earth even though they didn’t believe it was round? Were they still a part even though they believed a lie? The answer is yes!

So stop worrying so much about what people believe and let’s focus on who they are. Let’s focus on the FACT that we are a part of each other. We are connected. We are a part of the same body. We are one!

So the next time you meet someone… drop all the stereotypes and see them as God see them.

How does God see them?

Just like He sees you…

He sees a part of Him that He loves & needs & desires to enjoy.

He sees a part of Him that He can’t… and won’t… live without!

Leaving the maze

2009-01-06T03:51:00.000-08:00

Have you ever felt like you're caught in a maze? Roaming endlessly looking for a way out? Do you find your happiness in escapist behaviors? Be they as harmless as simply using the TV to tune out or the more self destructive patterns of too much food or alcohol?

Such weighty questions! Winter seems to do that to me, turn me introspective. Maybe it's the cooler weather or decreased sunlight, or the fact that in winter I have more time to read. One of my favorite past-times! Whatever it is, the first few months of every year usually finds me questioning life in general and my own specifically.

Two events this past weekend have caused me to focus more clearly on the questions swirling within. One, a brief conversation I had with Sheep S. He's reading a new book (new to him) and he was sharing some of the lessons from its pages. I know we'll be having many more discussions. Some of the things mentioned in that conversation echo the questions I have right now. The second event, was saying goodbye to a family that has meant a lot to me. A job transfer has this family packing up and moving a state away. The flock is loosing some of its members and we, I am grieved at the loss.

How did all this focus me? Well, as I spoke with my friends, I realized that many of the books and articles I've been reading lately have had a similar theme. It may sound a bit new age guru, but "My best life Now". As many questions as that has raised, my readings have given few definable answers. They have provided 'writings on the wall', arrows pointing in general directions, but nothing I could craft into a list of things to do to make it all better.

Saved yet again by my loving shepherd! It's not about lists, but listening. Listening to my heart as I am blindly led beside quiet waters into fields meant for me. I can't make this work, I'm not in control. I can't tell you or anyone else how to do it, as each field is a personal space. A place

'just right' for each of us. It's not about the externals or end results, but about that quiet inner space of self acceptance and knowing that all is right in our world.

How will I know this place? Can't answer that. As I risk leaving the false sense of security the maze offers, leaving behind my Do list, I am discovering my heart. What an undiscovered county that is! The way is fraught with risk, disappointments, hurts, and glimpses of glory.

On my wall, near the mirror I use to 'put on my face', hangs a card. It is a beautifully drawn image of a traveler at a cross roads. The signpost reads: My Life and No Longer an Option.

Like me, the traveler's feet are beginning down the path labeled, My Life.

-Sheep M 1/6/09

Resolutions

2009-01-02T05:29:00.000-08:00

Happy New Year!

I wanted to take a minute-or longer- to talk about this business of resolutions. Though I understand the desire to have a better year than the last, I take exception to the concept of 'righting' last year's failures. You know what I'm talking about-last year I didn't do such and such, or this is the year I will... That kind of talking smacks of failure talk. I'm sick of it!

Please understand, this idea has been working itself in me for a long time. I was fairly clueless about it for most of my life. I have a rather sunny disposition and set backs didn't seem to effect me long term. In the last five years of my marriage, I was confronted on a daily basis with the concept that some people see themselves through the lens of what they do. Similar to labels ( that's another thing I have a problem with and will probably be a later post), some people label themselves as failures because certain areas in their lives haven't worked out the way they intended. They can't, or won't focus on the areas in which they have succeeded, only on the ones that support the concept of failure.

I want to stop that thinking. We, all of us, are not failures! We are unique individuals. Each of us fearfully and wonderfully made. When did we, individually or corporately, decide that trying something and it not work out the way we thought it would equalled failure?

Let's think about it. Did you on your first attempt, walk? Talk? Print your letters? How sad would it have been if your parents at those moments in your life had shook their heads in dismay and labeled you a failure. You weren't then. That wasn't the response. If you are a parent now, you know what they did as you probably did the same thing, you rejoiced at the attempt! You knew that what you were seeing was a child exploring the world, taking a risk, going for it-and you applauded the effort!

So why can't we do that now for ourselves, for the ones we love? Why now when a friend wants to take a risk ? Or quit a job that is killing them (literally or figuratively) do you come up with a list of why they shouldn't-top of the list including some warning of failure? Or, and I speak from experience, do we stay in a relationship that is sapping our true self only to avoid 'failing' at that relationship? Or why do we dream of...(fill in the blank), but hold ourselves back from taking the risk because we are afraid of failing?

Think of all the things we now enjoy that are the product of risk taking, not getting it right the first time, and repeated attempts. Two that most of us are familiar with come to mind- the light bulb and flying. Even if you don't know the complete story of Edison or the Wright Brothers, you know that they didn't 'get it right' the first time. They kept at it until their ideal found a reality. History records their attempts, not to highlight how many times they tried, but to show how determined they were to succeed.

Then there is a personal friend of mine. He is a modern day explorer. He loves to seek out new business opportunities. He loves the thrill he gets from creating a new business, but the idea of staying with that one business for the rest of his life bores him. He is constantly on the move, constantly exploring new options. Thankfully, he knows this about himself and doesn't interpret his many career attempts as failures, they simply are the results of his risk taking. He rejoices over the business that 'work' and is able to put aside those that don't. He is one of my heroes as he daily lives from his heart. He is showing his children a much better way to live.

In this New Year, I ask you to begin to take the word failure out of your vocabulary. Love yourself! See each attempt for what it really is-a risk, a step toward the goal or a step that shows you what not to do the next time. Rejoice in the risk! Embrace your uniqueness. Live from your heart! -Sheep M 1/2/09

Evaluate each situation. Look at the steps involved, not whether you succeeded at the first attempt. Take the risk. Rejoice in the attempts! Realize that each of us has a part to play.

Happy New Year!

2008-12-31T16:13:00.000-08:00

I wanted to take this opportunity to wish each of you a Happy New Year.

For many of us the end of the year is a time to reflect on where we have been and to contemplate where we will be. If you will, it's an excuse to weigh ourselves, to size up our victories and our failures, our weaknesses and strengths and to determine our self worth.

We all do it... whether we admit or not. We look in the mirror, we look in the checkbook, we look in the driveway, we look at our kids, dogs, homes and jobs and then more often than not... we sigh... and start beating ouselves up. I should've done this, I could've done that, I need to lose weight, gain muscle, lose grey, find green etc etc etc.

I want to encourage you NOT to look at or into any of the afore mentioned things this New Year. I want you to bypass all the crap that your mind is telling you and I want you to see your heart... the real you. Your mind compares you to the computer & media generated life styles of the rich & famous. You can never live up to that... it's not real.

You on the other hand are quite real and quite valuable. You are absolutely wonderful and that is the truth regardless of what your mind is telling you. No one else cares what size your pants are, how many wrinkles you have, what kind of car you drive, how much grey is really there or if you have money in the bank. Most of us, and your friends and family just care about you. We love you, we like you and we want to hang out with you... not your stuff.

During this season of reflection I want you to reflect on and agree with this... I am wonderful... I am special... I am beautiful... I am accepted... and I am loved! If you disagree... that's ok... but you are wrong! I see you that way and most likely many others see you that way as well... and whether you can hear it or not your heart is saying, "Yes, yes yes!"

My hope and prayer for 2009 is that we will each see ourselves as we really are and love ourselves more than ever before. If that sounds selfish... it's not... you see we love others the way we love ourselves... so if we are not patient, kind, forgiving and longsuffering with ourselves... we won't be that way with others.

Happy New Year to each of you and may the eyes of your hearts be opened to see how wonderfully loved and accepted you are!

I leave this quote and challenge with you for 2009...

“Love yourself — accept yourself — forgive yourself — and be good to yourself, because without you the rest of us are without a source of many wonderful things.”
—Dr. Leonardo Buscaglia (1924-1998); professor, author

Driving Blind!

2008-12-29T17:07:00.000-08:00

Do you ever just complain to God? I do, as well I should, life for a blind sheep is totally unfair!

I told Him just this morning that I was tired of not knowing where I was going or where my finances were coming from. I want to know what the plan is. I want to know where this path is leading. I want to know what that noise is and why in the world I should move closer to it. I also want to know what that smell is… and don’t give me that old ‘he who smelt it dealt it’ line or any wisecracks about 'wet wool'!

I just want to know… is that so wrong?

But you know what he does? He starts asking me questions. I hate when he does that.

“Are you tired of trusting me little sheep?”

“Well yes, as a matter of fact, I AM!” I mean we might as well be honest!

“What do you want me to do for you?”

“I want to see the path in front of me.”

At this point I felt like He gave me a choice. He could open my eyes to see the path ahead and let me make my own decisions or I could remain blind and trust him to lead.

YOU KNOW... It's just not fair! Like I really have a choice! It sucks having to trust. It sucks not knowing where your next meal is coming from...or when... and yet as I look back... everywhere I’ve been and everything I’ve done has been directed and provided by Him.

Suddenly He 'highlighted' my past course with a marker and I could see each step and each turn that I had made blindly... in the dark. I wasn't able to make decisions with my physical eyes so I had to rely on Him.

Do you ever wish you could map out your own story? I do... if I map it out then it will be perfect… No suffering, no torment, no problems! As I contemplate this thought a verse comes to mind…

"Who is among you that fears the Lord,
That obeys the voice of His servant,
That walks in darkness and has no light?
Let him trust in the name of the Lord and rely on his God.

Behold, all you who kindle a fire,
Who encircle yourselves with firebrands,
Walk in the light of your fire
And among the brands you have set ablaze.
This you will have from My hand;
You will lie down in torment"

Isaiah 50:10, 11

So the choice is to trust… not knowing what my next step will be... Or choose my own path, light my way and open my own doors. One satisfies my mind with an illusion of control and the other brings peace to my heart… a peace that by passes my understanding.

My problem is that I want to be in control. I want to have all my ducks in a row and I want to say when and where certain things are going to happen. That’s the way most of us ’blind sheep’ feel.

I think I can identify (just a little) with how David must have felt in the wilderness. His songs... like mine... were the mercy drops from God that kept him going. They were the cry of his heart as he listened and followed a path he could not see or understand.

I don't think anyone in the Bible chose to be where they were. It's all a paradox, when you're weak you're strong, We always want to know and to be in charge... but we always screw it up and end up trusting God because it's really the only choice.

Jesus asked the disciples "Are you going to leave too?" It wasn't that they didn't want too, it wasn't that they didn't occasionally catch a glimpse of where things were headed... it was just that they knew "Only YOU have the words of life".

That's where I am. I can't trade LIFE for income. I can't trade LIFE for anything. Pretty simple huh?!?! Yeah right... Dying is never easy or simple. He who looses his life... finds it... and he who saves it... loses it. That blasted paradox again.

SO... once again here I am... my game plan develops after the fact... in retrospect… I see what God did. The story is His... not mine. It’s like driving a car with the windshield painted black. All you can do is listen and respond.

As you look in the rearview mirror you are amazed at the skill with which you have navigated through twists and turns. You know you could not possibly have pulled that off… you know it’s Him. So you enjoy the moment, looking back at how faithful God has been and you entrust tomorrow to Him.

Does this sound easy to you? If you said yes… you’re crazy! The truth is... it’s unbelievably hard.

I still want to know what comes next. I want to plan it out and be able to look good as I share it with others. I want to have a monthly and yearly planner all organized and be able to check off my little boxes as each task is accomplished.

I mean, why shouldn't we be able to say, "I'm going to such and such a place and I'm going to accomplish this, this, and that"? Yeah, I know it's a verse from somewhere. Sorry about all the rambling. I'm really not frustrated or upset.

Actually I feel pretty good as long as I focus on what God IS saying and what He IS doing. I loose it when I want to KNOW as He knows… When I want to know exactly how my life is going to work out!

For the moment I guess I’m ok. I will put the razor blades, screwdrivers and various other tools away. But one of these days I’m going to find a way to get that black paint off the windshield… then watch out… this sheep will be flyin’!

Sheep S

Sheep M: Is the grass always greener?

2008-12-28T15:26:00.000-08:00

As the year draws to a close, I've been drafting letters to my children. I say drafting because I want to write freely and then re-read what I've written to make sure that the words I say are uplifting and not condemning. I, in no way, want to hand them something that makes them feel like they've missed the mark or that I expect a level of performance from them. They are each so unique, wonderful and special. I feel honored to know them and be a part of their lives. That, more than anything else, is what I want to convey to them.

Each letter is as unique as the child for whom it is meant. Yet I see a pattern emerge as the letters reach their final draft. As I speak of their strengths and struggles from the past year, I also caution them. Asking that they examine all things. Test each encounter-be it with a person, book, idea, etc. There is so much information available to children today. To all of us actually, that I feel it's important to just stop every once and awhile and sift through the wheat and chaff. Keep and hold fast to those things that lead to the best life has to offer. Let go of that which ensnares and weighs you down. For each of us, those categories will be different.

How exactly does that lead to questioning fences? The adage that the grass is always greener? Without giving away too many details, my adult child has struggled in this area this past year. Sheep C and S have patiently listened to me pour out my despair at the choices made by this child. I'm not talking about right or wrong, but choices that have run contrary to what I've tried to instill in all my children. At one point, I found peace in releasing this child to be an adult. It was no longer my job or responsibility to 'fix' whatever was going on.

So as I wrote to this particular child, I found my mind wandering to those choices I'd made at 18, 20, 25, 38, 40... How and why I'd made them. The rebellion in my own past and my 'return' to the flock. Why do we have fences, rules,etc? I can tell you that the younger me thought it was all a vicious plot to keep me from having fun. I just knew that if only I could (fill in the blank) I would be so much happier and life would be wonderful. It didn't quite work out that way, but that yearning to get outside of the norm, to be free, spurred me in many directions that weren't always the best for me. Even now, I am still having to 'unlearn' the lessons learned outside the flock.

I've come to appreciate fences. Not as means to keep me from fun, but as loving boundaries that give me opportunities to grow. Inside the fence, I don't have to be in control. I can relax knowing that the One who set up the boundary is watching over me, protecting me.

This is a facile example, but one that makes the point. We all teach our children to not play in the street. Simple-yet by setting up that rule, we've somehow made the street a fascinating place. I can't even count the number of times I've made mad dashes to get to my children before they could step foot in the street! Why did we make the rule in the first place? To rob the child of fun? NO! To give them the chance to grow older, a chance at life.

So too are the fences in my own life. Yes, they at times offer a form of restriction, but in the end, they have been the means to a fuller life. I've jump quite a few only to find that the greener grass was simply astro-turf or that the once beautiful, sunny path entered a dark wood just out of sight.

At the end of another year, this blind sheep appreciates the boundaries that make it possible to enjoy my current life. I'm old enough to know that what I have today may not last until tomorrow. So I am thankful! -Sheep M 12/28/08

And for those who care to know, my child is returning to the flock. Aware now that I wasn't trying to control life, but enhance it.

Sheep S Ponders: Why struggle?

2008-12-19T05:09:00.000-08:00

I desire to see buds bloom...

to see cocoons open...

and to see wings struggle to unfold.

Why would I want to see them struggle?

Without the struggle to open and unfold they would never have the strength to fly.

What could be sadder than a freshly bloomed butterfly lacking the strength

to display the glorious wonder of it's wings to the world?

Welcome the struggles...

for in them you find the strength to fly!

-Sheep S 12/19/08

Even the Blind Need Beauty

2008-12-17T04:08:00.000-08:00

Beauty is a foreign language we all understand.

I've always believed that I had an artistic streak. Not that I claim to be an artist. Sometimes, I am able to express, through various mediums, the concepts I see in my head. Sometimes I'm not. That hasn't stopped me. Beauty is, quite simply, a life force for me.

Has it always been this way? I'm not sure. I just know that during the season of my son's illness, beauty has had a deeper impact on my psyche. In the depths of my fear, beauty alone could bring a glimpse of hope. Beauty to me is a reminder that I see imperfectly the circumstances of my life. There is more to life than pain, disillusionment, fear...There are also budding roses, the swelling ocean, glorious sunrises and sets, a child's delighted laugh...The list goes ever on. Each of us could write a book on the big and small things we consider beautiful.

Currently, I am being blessed with beauty by my parents. Let me explain. In my divorce, I was granted the family home. It was a fixer upper when it was purchased, and as my then family was a single income, the fixing up was rather limited. Two years ago, when my son was very ill, my parents modified our downstairs bath to make it easier on my son. It was functional and much appreciated. Now they are back to make the same room over. Only this time it is to bless me with a beautiful room. A few weeks ago, my parents took me shopping at a large home improvement store. You know the kind, you can get everything from construction materials to the finishing gloss. Up and down the isles we went. As I would stop to choose between two items, one of them would remind me this was their gift to me and to get what I wanted, not what I thought would work. Counting pennies has just become a way of life for me!

We are in the construction phase right now. There is mud dust all over. Left over sheet rock is piled in my den along with all the other left over bits and pieces. I'm trying to be as helpful as possible, but as I work from home, I am dividing my time between the two projects. My son is following his grandfather around learning about measuring twice, cutting once. They banter back and forth as the work progresses. This can get extremely annoying, but I love it! The easy manner of their camaraderie is a beauty in and of itself. A reminder that each day is packed full of beauty if we could but see clearly. -Sheep M 12/17/08

Sheep C: A Peek Inside the Cote

2008-12-14T06:04:00.000-08:00

I hosted a slumber party this weekend for eight of my favorite Ewes. Sheep M was there, too, so there’s a clue for those of you wondering who the male member of our trio is. Most of us were fifty-somethings, Sheep M being the young chipper of the crowd, and we had the distinct pleasure of an eighteen-year-old who joined us for dinner and breakfast.

We had the best time! We ate a wonderful dinner, had rich desserts, got little gifts, and lots of wine and cranberry/pomegranate martinis. We stayed up late, late, watched Where the Heart Is, identifying with Novalee’s and Lexi’s poor choices of men, and generally were totally hedonistic. We crashed all over the house about 3:00 a.m., sleeping in every available space, including the couch and two cots.

When the breakfast hour came, we all trailed sleepily into the kitchen for coffee, settling around my breakfast table for biscuits, bacon and fruit. After a night of light-hearted fun and, I think, bonding, it was amazing to me that talk on its own shifted to the serious. It wasn’t planned, and it wasn’t a downer. It was just where everyone wanted to go at the moment and, as I said, it was amazing…

I don’t want to disclose the nature of the troubles, because the subject of those worries might just peek into this blog (we hope so), and the Sheep’s Cote is a sacred thing. It is a place of safety, somewhere to come into during the dark night of life. (Oh, my, am I waxing poetic here!).

Quite literally, we talked through present life for several hours. Each one of us has either gone through some life-devastation or is going through it right this very moment. We were able to vent honestly, to ask “What am I to do?,” to share what we have done in similar situations in the past, and to say, “Well, I know what I would do—I wouldn’t put up with that, not one more minute” (Tuff Talk!)

This last strong outburst made us laugh (Confession: it was me, the "Tuff Talker" who said this). We all agreed that it was the right advice; we also all agreed that we can sure talk tough when it’s someone else’s life. Execution of same was going to be much harder than speaking it! So, we head-on talked about whether we should even have been spouting this tough talk when we all knew that dealing with a loved one is a complicated task. What we came to was this: Yes, we should issue this sound-but-hard advice within the fold, but we also needed to give grace to the Ewe involved as she faced this serious situation. One of us spoke up with this wisdom (borne of her own similar past pain): “You are just going to have to move as God speaks to you.”

In the end, we knew that we had not actually solved any of the problems presented, but we sure had allowed for honest airing. We had given each a safe place to which to return for support and the benefit of hindsight on our own past messes for guidance.

I was reminded of how our ultimate source of both guidance and comfort is God Himself, and how we are supposed to share those gifts of help from above with others:

Praise be to the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of compassion and the God of all comfort, who comforts us in all our troubles, so that we can comfort those in any trouble with the comfort we ourselves have received from God. Corinthians 1:3, 4 (NIV).

And this is exactly what was happening around my breakfast table! It was a natural, non-contrived occurrence because this is just what happens within the fold. It is one of the great purposes of the flock. – Sheep C, 12/14/2008

Ewe Party- A Gathering of Sheep

2008-12-14T04:29:00.000-08:00

This past weekend I was in the company of a group of wonderful women. I've written about the importance of belonging before, so you won't be too surprised if I continue with the theme. There is something deep within each of us that compels us to find the place where we are safe. The 80's had a show that centered on that idea-Cheers.It sold itself on the idea that it was a place where everyone knew your name. Doesn't your heart just leap at the idea of something like that being possible? A place where you are not invisible?A place in which you are known?

Something amazing happens when women gather. We talk! At first it's surface information. Similar to sticking your toes in water to test the temperature. On finding that to our liking, we plunge in! The talk moves from information gathering to the common place we all inhabit-our doubts, our fears, our deepest heart pains. We turn to each other to find validation and acceptance. Our hearts and lives are lightened by the sharing and the laughing that gently flows over us, healing us in gentle waves as we realize we are not alone in our struggles.

We in no way solved any problems this weekend. We shared, laying our burdens aside. We invited each other to be a part of our own personal journey.

Times like this are an oasis in the wilderness. A place of rest for the weary traveler. In gathering we share and discover that we are not alone in this. Others have trod similar paths. They offer encouragement that the current troubles are not the final destination. They are temporary and will pass. New strength and courage are found to pick yourself up and go at it again. Shored up with the knowledge that others know and care about your journey. The journey isn't over at this point, but the loving Shepherd has provided a safe place to rest and relax. Sheep M 12/15/08

Sheep C: Shower Wisdom

2008-12-12T05:05:00.000-08:00

Why is it that the shower seems to stimulate my brain waves? I suppose it's that the every-morning act of showering is so ingrained in me that I go on auto-pilot, freeing my brain to roam wherever (hair drying is the same). I find myself going over the day ahead of me, which is understandable, but I don’t stay there very long. At some point my brain wanders and, I think, connects with my heart. Together they come up with stuff I never knew was even on my radar screen. And there are times that I accuse God of getting into this mix. This morning was one of those times.

As I showered, I began to sing an old Peter, Paul and Mary song. Some of you older folks out there will recognize this folk music trio (“Puff the Magic Dragon?”) The refrain of this song (writers, Farina/Marden) goes like this:

Well, if somehow you could pack up your sorrows,

And give them all to me. You would lose them,

I know how to use them, Give them all to me.

Well, the Lord knows that I have had my share of sorrows the past two years. Certainly I wish I could pack them up and give them away. This reminds me of the Scripture where at 1 Peter 5:7, which speaks of:

…casting all your cares upon Him, for He cares for you.

This verse has always conjured up a picture of me moving that monkey of trouble off my back and right onto Jesus’ shoulders, whereupon He would walk off, carrying my sorrow, and I would walk off with no worries!

Now, I don’t know about you, but my experience with what that verse says has been very frustrating, and what I have found is: First, I don’t have a clue about how to cast cares on Jesus. Are there instructions somewhere? And, second, when I have tried (oh, yes, I have tried), it just hasn’t worked. I still had my troubles after the effort. I might feel better about life, in general, having my heart lightened as it always is after an exchange with God, but those pesky troubles were still there, and, doggone it! I wanted them gone—carried off by Jesus so I no longer had to contend with them.

Well, this morning, as I began to sing this refrain in the shower, what I began to think is that God was showing me something about casting cares. “You would lose them…” You bet I would! I would let You take that monkey off my back! But then, “I know how to use them, give them all to Me.”

I’m thinking that I have the picture wrong. He’s not going to relieve me of my circumstances but what He is going to do is “use them,” for me. I began to think of what the Bible teaches about trouble. We are even told to rejoice (!) in suffering (I’m not there yet)

Not only so, but we also rejoince in our sufferings, because we know that
suffering produces perseverence...Romans 5:3

So, on reflection I believe what God is saying is not that He is going to relieve us of our worldly troubles. He just wants us to know that He knows how to use them—to shape us, to help others. When we cast our cares on Him, we are really just stepping back and letting him achieve through our travail.

Of course, I’m blind, so who knows…I don’t like the suffering, that’s for sure. What I do like, however, is believing that it is accomplishing something in the hands of someone who cares a great deal for me. – Sheep C 12/12/08 PS - I know "troubadour" is misspelled, but it's there, and I'm not going to redraw...!

Blind Sheep's New Lenses-part two

2008-12-11T04:20:00.000-08:00

As a general principle, I don't like sequels. They rarely measure up to the first installment. That being said, since the last post, I've indulged in two of my holiday past-times. I've re-read Charles Dickens and re-watched "It's a Wonderful Life".

I love these two treats during the holiday season. December is the only month I allow myself to read/watch them. I confess, that they are as much a part of my holiday traditions as the tree, home baked goodies and all the rest.

Here in the south, winter can mean cold and rain. Snow is a rarity and definitely an out of doors occasion. We had rain this week. So I pulled out my copy of "A Christmas Carol" and snuggled in as I lost myself in the beautiful, old fashioned story. Tiny Tim's, "God Bless us, everyone," reminded me of my last post. Hence the part 2 I'm about to indulge in.

Seen through a blind sheep's new lens, Scrooge and George Bailey aren't all that different. On the surface, the men are completely different. One is self sacrificing, the other is self absorbed. Yet neither is completely free to be who they really are, who they were created to be. Both need a little help from above to show them how special and important they are. One gets an angel. Oh how I love Clarence! (Ring a ding! Another set of wings for an angel!) One gets three ghosts. I wonder if that's because his heart was so hardened by the burdens and pains of life that his need was greater?

In the end, both are shown their own importance. That in the big and small ways, their lives have touched so many, impacted the way others live their lives. Their lives, their stories need them. Fully alive to themselves and those around them.

This holiday season, make time to be with those you love. Recognize the blessing of loved ones. Honor those who have impacted your life. And ring a bell or two for Clarence!-Sheep M 12-11-08

Sheep C Finds a Silver Lining

2008-12-10T04:44:00.000-08:00

Last July, being newly-single yet again for about six weeks, I came home one afternoon to find that a storm had knocked out the power. I live way out in the country, and we have power outages far more often than do my city-slicker friends. It’s a rather serious thing because not only do I miss out on lights, I have no water with no power to the well pump.

I sat alone on my back porch because it was the place with the most light and cooler than my now-non-air-conditioned house. I saw more rain clouds over the trees, and the wind began to stir. Clearly more rain was on the way and I groaned, thinking how this might delay the restoration of the power and how dreary the rain would make me feel—I was already depressed, coming home to a dark, empty house.

And, sure enough, the rain began. That’s when a totally amazing, totally unexpected thing happened: The temperature began to drop; everything began to smell cleaner, lighter; there was a cheery radiance given by the end-of-day light through the shower as the rain fell. I, myself, began to feel light and refreshed. I actually began giving thanks for the cooling rain that I had initially cursed.

The following thought came to me: “Fear and anticipation often cause us to avoid the very instruments of life and freedom.”I had dreaded the rain. I had feared and anticipated that it would keep the lights off (it didn’t--they soon returned); I had anticipated and feared that it would depress me even more. It didn’t; it made me feel better, more refreshed as I never could have predicted. My fears were not well-founded. In the end, I was glad for the rain I had dreaded.

I think this realization can be applied to my broader life. Understand that I am not advocating divorce; I would have done a lot (did a lot!) to save my marriage, but since my husband has left, a whole new world is beginning to open up to me. I have the freedom to make some choices that would have just been out had he been here. It hasn’t been all bad, as I had feared and anticipated.

So, what’s a blind sheep to do? Do we resist and avoid things which loom in our future and look like trouble? I think so. I can’t advocate giving up one’s brain and common sense here. We have to live life according to some of the rules of cause and effect that experience has taught us. Hopefully, we seek guidance from above in doing so.

And, yet, there is another, almost other-dimensional (spiritual?) aspect of this thought. We just trot through life, blind sheep that we are, living according to those rules of common sense. But, I think the backdrop to it all should be the understanding that we are, indeed, blind. We are simply not wise enough to have God’s perspective on our lives. So, when we play by those life rules and it seems that life does not, we have to learn to rest in the knowledge that God has our refreshing and renewal on His mind. And He knows how to get us there, whether we recognize the means or not. I think this is called "faith."

No, I have not perfected the art of living with constant awareness of this backdrop, but I do have these flashes of insight that get me by. And when it seems that I just can’t parse out the silver lining to the rain cloud, I try to remember that there is yet more in the background, always, and it’s summed up with God saying this:

"For I know the plans I have for you," declares the Lord, "plans to prosper you
and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future." Jer 29:11 (NIV)

It may be that I am trying to avoid the very thing that will set me free or bring me life. I just have to trust Him, for certainly I can’t always see!

To the flock, all sheep matter

2008-12-10T04:32:00.000-08:00

"Up, up and away in my beautiful balloon..."

I wanted to chime in on what Sheep C wrote. Not in the way imagined. I wanted to tell a personal story and share with you a gift my children blessed me with. For my 4oth birthday (and I won't be telling you how long ago that was!) my children arranged for me to ride in a hot air balloon. They did a wonderful job of keeping it a secret. They enlisted the help of friends and family. It was the perfect gift! Little did they know what they had gotten themselves into-

Arrangements made, we awaited the day of the ride. All of us would be going together. It was no longer just a celebration of my day, but of our lives, our family. We would be doing this together and we were like children on the night before Christmas. The morning of our ride, we were all up before dawn driving to the field where we were to launch. Our first surprise awaited us. There was no majestic balloon hovering over the ground. All we saw was the man and his truck. The balloon, he told us, was waiting for us to breathe life into her. The first order of business was to help the pilot unpack the balloon. This may seem like a fairly straight forward affair. Not! There is so much that must be done just so. The basket is attached in just the right way. (Who could argue with that. Once air born, that's your safety net, so to speak.) The the balloon is laid out on the ground. Guide ropes separated from the basket attachment ropes. At this point we began to divide the labor. Some of us were at the basket end holding it in place as the balloon inflated. Others were using the guide ropes to hold the balloon and prevent it from rising before being fully inflated.

Once all the preparation was complete, we all boarded. Oh the lurch to my stomach, the thrill of lift off! There is not enough space or words to convey that single moment. No longer was I tied by gravity to this spot of earth. I was air born. A freedom one cannot experience in a plane. I had a panoramic view of the sun rise that morning. How perfect was the timing that let all the work be finished just as the first rays of the new day were creeping across the horizon!

There is more to this memory. So many lessons were engraved on my heart that day. The one that had the most immediate impact, however, was the crash landing! Yep, we crash landed. One of the oversights was not having a landing crew. Apparently, you need at least one person to remain on the ground and track your flight. When you are ready to land, this person will be waiting until one of the guide ropes in within reach (this requires expert skills on the part of the pilot as the warm air in the balloon in cooled thus sending the balloon closer to earth), grab it and in concert with the pilot, guide the balloon in for a landing. Without this person, crashing is the only way to land.

As odd as this may sound, crashing seemed the perfect way to end this ride of a life time. We were all in this together and I could just imagine the stories I would be regaling my friends with. But like every other aspect of this ride, there were rules to follow.

The pilot explained that the heat to air ratio had to be calibrated to (blah, blah, blah...I enjoy the stories of science, it's just that the practical side of it has always sounded like a foreign language to me) Suffice it to say that we were told to hold on. If one of us were to fall out (never thought that was a possibility!) it would endanger all of us. We were all needed to land the balloon safely. To lose the weight of one of us, would shoot the balloon back into the air and the pilot would not have control of the flight.

Whoa! Instantly as we prepared ourselves for the crash, I thought of the parable of the sheep. (See, even then I was being primed for this blog!) The shepherd left the 99 to find the one lost sheep. Why? Because we all matter. We can't do this alone. Suddenly a story I've known since childhood blossomed into a beautiful truth.

I matter to God in a way that until the crash prep, I couldn't take in. Just as a puzzle isn't complete until all the pieces fit together, God's world, His plan included me. I wasn't just some biological result of my parents. I hadn't been born at a random time in the history of the world. My place, my belonging, my purpose had been established before the first word of creation was spoken. I mattered! And so do you! This life, this moment in history requires all of us. No matter the circumstances of our individual lives, they/we are all intertwined, woven into a beautiful picture. The loss of one, endangers all the rest. Sheep M-12/10/08

C Sheep: If We're All Blind, What Good is the Flock? (Answer: Plenty!)

2008-12-08T16:19:00.000-08:00

I am probably going to take it on the chin for this post from M and S because of the countless times they have urged me to heed just what I am saying here, but it's truth, so here goes:

Coming up in the church, I have often heard the admonition against turning to God only in time of need. I must be weird. As counterintuitive as it seems, in the time of my deepest hurt, I actually seem to forget to do the simple things, like praying for guidance and help. Finally, after struggling by myself for a while, it does hit me: "Oh, yeah! I could ask God about that!"

Pain and depression also cause me to leave the flock. I don't know why I do this, just that I end up holing up. "Going into my cave," we have come to call it. I can pretty much function fine on my job through most anything, but when I am really down or upset, it is my friends, family and church that I eschew. I have heard over and over testimonies of how the church family had been support and comfort for those in distress. I like to think I have been part of that comfort at times for others. But when it came to me, church was the first place I fled from when times got dark. My inclination is just toward isolation; I think that is natural. When we are injured, we have an innate desire to go off alone and lick our wounds. We see this all across nature. The intellectual part of me knows this is not healthy, and I believe that the Scriptures, too, tell us to hang together and not be Lone Rangers.

Throughout my ordeal, God has been with me. He was palpably present at the moment I learned of my betrayal, steadying me, guiding me while I was on the auto-pilot of shock. Through numbness I was patently aware of His presence.

In the months that followed, God continued to be there for me; even when I ignored Him in my self-absorption (recall that failure to remember Him, I mention above?) He would push into my life at intervals, making His presence and compassion unexpectedly known; knowing that I was only just getting through the days and would not turn to Him without His intrusion. But really “hearing God,” is not something I have done much of lately. During my “dark days,” while I have been alone, my hearing of God has been limited. We were in survival communication mode, He and I. He understood fully that coping was all I could really manage and, in His wisdom and Love, He limited His speech to me. He comforted, encouraged, gave me signs, but He did not “speak.” He kept to the practical--no lofty theological insights. I did not care; I was just surviving.

I was gone for a good while, and it was hard to return to church, even though M and S and so many other loved ones were there and urging me to return. So much of my former life was entwined in church, and coming back alone was a dread. I knew that I had never really left and my fellow church members struck exactly the right chord of leaving me to my healing and letting me continually know I should not think of myself as “separate” in the permanent sense. I, too, knew that I was still a part of that flock, although temporarily apart.

But the day came for me to return. And what I found was a body so ready to have me back that I did not feel strange at all.

But, back to the value of the flock and the “hearing God” thing: Not only did my church welcome me back, God put on a big welcome for me, too! It was a surprise to me. When I returned to church, God began to “speak” to me in a way He has not done (or I have not heard, at least) in almost two years. It was like He was saying, “Now that you’re here, focus on Me and listen to what I say! Let’s get on with it!” The subsequent Sundays brought God’s voice to me again, and although He has started speaking to me elsewhere (while I dry my hair, for example), His voice is loudest, clearest when I am at church. Being in church is like I am on a hill with my antenna trained to God. Like the blind sheep of the congregation are a collective radar dish, amplifying the voice of God for me.

And, so, I have learned some things during my dark days and in coming out of them, both spiritual and practical. Those lessons will forever impact my professional and my personal life. I am working now on exercises to make those impacts positive, rather than negative. But among the most important lessons I have learned are that: God is always with us, even when we ignore Him; and there's no place like the home flock. Yes, they may be blind, but they are God's conduit to reach down to us, comfort us, and teach us even if it is just by trusting us to watch their own dramas unfold.

And, isn't that just like God? He makes the first last and he lets the blind lead! -C 12/08/08

Wilderness

2008-12-08T03:47:00.001-08:00

The one thing I'm learning in this journey, is that sometimes we have to be taken out of our comfort zones to appreciate the fullness of our own lives. We have so much, even when we struggle to make ends meet, there is an abundance that we too often over look. The wilderness forces us into a place of deep focus and appreciation. The friends on this blog with me are a prime example. We've been friends for years- yet the truest expression of that friendship was not seen until one of us was dealt a whammie! Not just any whammie, but one that struck at the core of who that person had always seen themselves. It was a difficult time, yet the richness of the stories, the closeness, the vulnerability was the genesis of this blog. A few years later, yours truly was plucked from her own personal comfort zone and dealt a set of circumstances that completely knocked me for a loop: End of marriage, end of thinking my children were safe and healthy (my son has leukemia and residual effects of a chemo induced stroke), the end of so many things. The beginning of so much more! Then there's the last in our trio. She too was plunked into the wilderness setting. It's not a new story, but painful to all of us who experience it's like or who watch a love one suffer through the disillusionment of a divorce.

So why do we call ourselves sheep? Because God calls us that, lovingly. And we need each other. In the good times we tend to forget that. In the bad, it's our flock who keep us sane.

Blind? Can any of us really see? As my story unfolds, you'll see that what I saw in the beginning of the mess, isn't and wasn't the whole truth. For now we see in part, as through a mirror darkly. Sometimes we need our friends to help remind us of that truth.- Sheep M 12/9/08

Sheep C Discovers We are All Sheep and We are All Blind

2008-12-08T02:36:00.000-08:00

Yes, I know, I am not an artist. But you have no idea how therapeutic making these little drawings were! For years I was "on top of the world," knowing that I lived a charmed life. But the year 2007 brought with it the yank of the rug right out from under my feet, and life has never been the same since. (Please forgive...I know the rule against all those metaphors, but I like my little pix, and I'm trying to tie them in here).

In the Book of Revelation, 3:17, God says to the church of Laodicea:

You say, "I am rich; I have acquired wealth and do not need a thing." But you do not realize that you are wretched, pitiful, poor, blind and naked...

That was me, pre-2007. Oh, I knew that verse was lurking there. Our church had heard this taught many times. Our pastor realized that this was not just Laodicea He was talking about; it was us all. I knew that, too--intellectually at least. I just did not really realize it applied to me!!

But, I'm here to tell you, that we are all blind. Jesus wasn't kidding when He admonished us that we don't have any control over our future (Matthew 6:25, et seq). I don't have any handle whatsoever on the "don't worry" part of that passage, and if you read this blog regularly, you are sure to see signs of worry, I guarantee you. But these past two years have brought me to realize that life happens. We are just along for the ride.

The two other sheep who write in this blog have had similar experiences, although I was the last one to be dragged into the Trouble Fold. They were dear friends to me before my life fell apart, and so they remain. We encourage each other and, in watching each other's lives take hits, too, have come to understand that God is not picking on each of us particularly, although sometimes it sure feels personal to me.

And I think that's what this little blog is about: Our blind helplessness in life's turmoil and the importance of the flock and what little insights we have gleaned from it all (realizing all the time that insight is chancy--we are, after all, blind).

But I don't think you should look for only "woe is me" in these writings, because we have a whole lot to be joyful over, and I'm praying you'll find that here, too! But for now I'm thinking of an Isak Dinesen quote from her wonderful book, Out of Africa: "Maybe God made the world round so that we cannot see very far down the road..."

Certainly I've been blindsided, and I'm trusting God just a bit more now, understanding that I'm just not very wise! - Sheep C, 12/8/08