So be content with who you are, and don’t put on airs. God’s strong hand is on you; he’ll promote you at the right time. Live carefree before God; he is most careful with you. (1 Peter 5:6,7)

Never is an awfully long time. (J.M. Barrie, Peter Pan)

Why not live carefree? There are so many things in life that can consume us.  What keeps us in a constant state of anxiety? For me it’s when I let my self-importance and insecurity overwhelm  my very existence. Being alive and being a part of this world are sacred gifts.

I get tired of wasting my life on what’s going wrong, or what mistakes I made or might make, or even possibly am making right this moment. Why not live carefree? What keeps me from listing what’s right with me? What’s right with the world? What’s beautiful and pleasant and true?

Why not, may seem like a flippant response to this life. But on the other hand, if I never ask this question, what might I be missing?

Why not live carefree? I dare you to ask yourself that question this weekend. Maybe even have little dialogue in your journal or with a collage. Sometimes it is helpful to name, and even see the obstacles in order to move past them.

Why not live carefree?

Here are some links and a few quotes to spur you on in carefree living:

Water: The Fluid Ways of Creativity by Kristal Norton

For Your Weekend by Emily P. Freeman

 

Why are you down in the dumps, dear soul?
    Why are you crying the blues? (Psalm 42:5a The Message)

The five investigative questions that start with “w” conclude with this whopper of a question.

Why?

Why tends to get a bad rap because it is often paired with despair. Why is this happening? Why is there so much pain and heartache in this world? Why can’t I stop such and such behavior? Why doesn’t he or she like me?

Why pries into our motives. Why often puts us on the defense. Why digs deeper than any of the previous questions, yet if we do a little root search of  why, it takes us to what and then, you guessed it, back to who. Investigating our who-ness naturally leads to why.

Why, you may ask?

It’s in the definition. Why means for what cause, reason or purpose. My identity is linked to my purpose. Why am I here? An age old question, yet knowing my why keeps me moving forward, and gives me hope. I may never know exactly why certain things happen, but I can evaluate my own motives and motivators, with a desire to live my life authentically and with love for myself and others.

Why does not have to lead to despair, it also can be very inspirational. A funny coincidence happens when you pair why with not. Many have found the courage to take the risk to love and to live, by saying “why not?” What keeps me or you from living to our fullest design and intent? Maybe spending some time writing out the who, the what, the where, the when and the why of our existence could shed some light on our situations. It may even spark our imagination.

I can’t remember when or why I made the following collage, but it reminded me of two things. 1) Asking questions is good. 2) Writing out answers helps me to imagine.

When I imagine why, it can end up leading me to hope. The Psalmist asks why are you so down in the dumps, dear soul? And by asking the question, he gives himself the answer in the next line of the psalm:

Fix my eyes on God—
    soon I’ll be praising again.
He puts a smile on my face.
    He’s my God. (Psalm 42:5b The Message)

What are you fixing your eyes on these days? What restores your hope?

Here’s a challenge: Make up your own list of 5 questions to ask yourself, to help you get started or get out of a rut. (If you like, share them in the comments. I would love to know what works for you, as it may help me or others, as well.)

It always encourages me, when one of you shares how these posts impact your life. Head over to Jody’s Three Way Light to see how she processed a recent collage challenge that I mentioned in this post.

My grace is sufficient for thee . . . (2 Corinthians 2:9 KJV)

When I get started on a mission, I tend to swing to the ruthless side of things.

Today, I continued my new found freedom to fling things that I no longer wanted or thought I needed. A box of school papers neatly filed in a box in the back of the storage room caught my eye. Aha! I said to myself, I am finally courageous enough to get rid of the boys’ old school papers. (I had put together scrapbooks for each of them years ago, and I thought this box was too onerous to go through. I’d just dump the whole thing in the recycling trash can outside.

I marched the box up the stairs and out to the side yard. I started dropping file folders into the tall blue trash can designated for recycling. Part of me wanted to grab them back up and bring them in. No, I told myself, it’s time! I saw the elementary and middle school yearbooks. Maybe I should keep them? No, I assured myself, they won’t want them. So I left them.

Later in the afternoon, our oldest son called from California to catch up on life. I mentioned that I was on a purging mission, and I finally threw away old school papers and the yearbooks. Long pause from his end. Umm, I said, did you want the yearbooks? Yeah, mom that would be nice. Okay, I can rescue them, it’s not too late. Whew! (I am thankful for such an honest son.) After we said our good-byes, I hustled out to the recycling trash receptacle to pull out the yearbooks.

Spilling from the folders, I noticed drawings and stories and papers that I never got into their scrapbooks. I reached down into the bin and started hauling out the file folders. The wind was blowing, so I ran back into the house to get the file box.

I couldn’t do it. It really wasn’t the right time to throw them away. Maybe I should sort through them first.

As I organized the folders in the box, I noticed a couple of things. I found an essay by Son #1 and a card from Son#2. Both items were from a Mother’s Day “assignment” in elementary school. (I guess they are off the hook this year, because this rescue mission just served me up a big helping of Mother’s Day love from past editions of my sons.)

 

 

Awww! Kurtis was about 10 at the time he wrote this one. What a wonderful memory! I’m glad we talked today, and that I could enjoy his heartfelt words again this day. Thank you for being honest about the yearbooks!

Inside this one Bradley, about age 10, wrote an acronym poem:

Mourns for others’ hardships.
Outrageous, is the number of her purses.
Trustworthy of promises.
Handles items with care.
Everyone likes her.
Refrains from being repugnant.

And he gave me coupons, which apparently I never redeemed! Hmmm…and there is no expiration date on them. Thanks, Bradley!

When I least expect it, grace saves me from myself again and again. Whew! That was a close one.

When was the last time you noticed grace in your day?

 

 

 

There’s an opportune time to do things . . . (Ecclesiastes 3:1 The Message)

When is an emotional question. That’s what came to mind today, as I continued my quest to clean out our storage area (ahem, the basement) of accumulated things. After fifty years of living, and almost thirty years of being a homemaker, wife and mother, things add up.

When did I get all this stuff? When will I get rid of some of it? These two questions return to me, during my perennial spring fling-athon!

Each year, I tell myself, this is it! This is the year, I will rent a dumpster and just get rid of it all! And this year, I really mean it. I won’t rent a dumpster, but day by day, I am going to take stuff to the trash can. Bag up things to donate. Get rid of years of paper mementos and doubles of photos and dusty cassette tapes and outdated music CDS and yes even, the Disney VHS movies. It’s time!

When means “at what time.”  When hearkens to the past. When foreshadows the future and can even mean, now!

When has its roots in who. (That has been the biggest surprise for me: who, what, where and when all originate from the same root word.) What, where and when impacts our who-ness.

The physical evidence in my basement not only shows what I have accumulated, but also taps into personal memories. And my reluctance to let go of stuff? It has a lot  to do with the emotional ties.

When reminds me that I raised two boys with my husband from infancy to manhood. When piles up with stored decorations for each holiday and season. When recalls that our sons have moved out, but a few of their belongings still linger. When blows the dust off stacks of books saved for someday, in which, I will read them again or for the first time. When remembers each gift lovingly accepted from friends and family over the years.

When I start sorting and rummaging and bravely putting these “whens” into boxes and bags to carry out, a deep grief overwhelms me. Seething anger for holding on so long to items that I no longer need, no longer use and no longer really want, except for the fact that they recall the memories. When will I release the items, and just cherish the memories? When will I let myself grieve and cry, and say good-bye to certain seasons?

When evokes a kind of grief mingled with shame. When and why did I buy some of this stuff? When did I think I was going to use some of it? When will I accept that the purpose of most of these items has been served?  After about an hour in the abyss of when, I stomped upstairs, angry that it was going to take more than a couple days and quite a bit of emotional energy to complete the task of letting go.

I threw myself on my bed and cried for awhile. To let the grief go; to let the stuff go. And although there’s still more to sort through, a sense of relief and acceptance moved into the space where anger and sadness had been wrestling.

How is when affecting your who-ness?

 

 

Who of you by worrying can add a single hour to your life? (Luke 12:25 NIV)

For the next twenty-four hours…

In recovery, we live life one day at a time, an idea requiring an enormous amount of faith. We refuse to look back—unless healing from the past is part of today’s work. We look ahead only to make plans. We focus on this day’s activity, living it to the best of our ability. If we do that long enough, we’ll have enough connected days of healthy living to make something valuable of our life. (Melody Beattie, The Language of Letting Go)

When is a temporal question. A question of time and timing. When will this happen? When do you want to meet? When will I ever have enough time to finish what I started? 

Time haunts me. I never “feel” like I have enough of it. I try to manage and budget it wisely. And sometimes I am successful, but at the end of the day, I always think, if I just had more time.

However, this mindset keeps peace at bay, and invites more anxiety than not. I am learning that time is time. It’s a gift to enjoy, to cherish. Not a commodity to hoard. I really have enough time.

When I relax and live one day at a time, aware of moments both glorious and mundane, time ebbs into a state of timelessness.

How about you? When was the last time you relaxed and enjoyed the moments of your day?

One way I relax and get lost in time is writing, doodling and processing life in my journals. This month I decided to add some journal boxes and stamped circles to the pages. Here’s a video of the unexplored pages of my imagination. Enjoy!

https://youtu.be/bjGPw3xvlXM