PERSPECTIVE IS A BEAUTIFUL THING

... With perspective, an all-consuming problem becomes a season of life that will not last forever. An enormous hurt transforms into an opportunity to grow and learn about God’s character. A small gift explodes into life-changing encouragement. An ordinary conversation translates into confirmation that life is a treasure.

Perspective is not glossing over hurt or hardship and putting on a happy face. Rather, it is giving yourself the opportunity to appreciate blessings that are so easily taken for granted. 

The quickest way I have found to adjust my perspective is to make a list of everything I am thankful for:

• A husband who rubs my back and likes folding laundry
• Generous friends
• A sister who understands my rather odd musical inclinations
• Sunshine
• The chameleon from Tangled (Yes, I am thankful for Pascal.)
• Old books with intricately designed covers and worn, brown pages
• Photography
• The God who pursues me and wants me no matter what and who made everything else in the list possible (even Pascal).

“If you change the way you look at things, the things you look at change.” - Wayne Dyer

LINDSAY HALE

OH, LOOSEN UP!

I admit I can be pretty intense.  I have a bent toward taking life rather seriously, and a husband and a son who can match me in this tendency.  But then there’s the youngest in our family.  He is twelve and still milking that baby thing.  We have been trying to nudge him along in his character maturation, and we have had some roadblocks.  Every Sunday morning, he rests on my shoulder or tugs at my arm throughout the worship service.  It has been a difficult task for him to sit quietly for the one and a half hours without being redirected.

This week he managed to score a bagel and cream cheese before walking in to the service.  He was so happy with his bagel that he couldn’t keep from swinging it around and talking to it in between bites.  The problem was we were in the middle of worship.  Singing and focused on God.  When I told my youngest boy that this is the time to give attention to Jesus, he replied in his sincere and lighthearted way, “I am.  I’m letting Him know I am so thankful for this bagel”.  Had it been another kid, I would have thought he was being a smart alec, but not this kid.  While hiding my giggles, I took in a deep breath.  His childlike joy really is a part of worship, and I can learn from him.  This happy-go-lucky, singing, dancing, sweet spirit is loosening me up.  His name means, “trickling stream”, and that morning my heart was refreshed by my little man.

Bonnie Christensen

http://www.womangonewise.com

THE LIST

i was blaming it on a full moon.  the one from a week and a half ago.  on the cereal i had for breakfast.  because i do believe that cereal is a sucky way to start your day.  that you get tricked in to feeling full but then, you aren’t and you are hungry thirty minutes later.  like chinese food.

i blamed it on a lack of sleep and on the pending doom of missing my husband.  i was stressed over lost shot records which made me look like a bad mommy.  those feelings led to assumed judgement of a mommy of almost four with people saying “if you can’t do the job, stop creating the work” and all sorts of other cruel things i imagined being pinned with.  what kind of mommy loses three kid’s shot records.  i know, the mommy who hasn’t organized her filing system in two years but instead just stacks papers together and prays for the documents she needs to jump out at her.  i blamed it on all of that.

i was so lost in my own world that i couldn’t see a way out.  i prayed about it but it sounded empty.  hollow.  i knew that there was something else not right and that my prayers were all muddled up with that.  was life really that awful right now?  life in my warm, clean home with my cuddly, energetic children with my supportive and goofy mr ballard…was it really that bad?  there were no deaths or divorces or starving people.  there was no dirty water or sickness or cancer.  there was nothing for me to complain about really.  nothing.

was i thankful for all these things i did have?  if so, i certainly wasn’t showing it.  maybe i should be.  amidst the temper tantrums of a two year old who is just playing off mama and the pouting of a six year old who just doesn’t feel like doing her school work, i was stuck there complaining (to myself) about a life lost luster.  it moved me. it moved me to a collection of miniature notebook paper.

mini composition book and pen met.  i am not sure what led me here but for some reason, the call to "feel thankful" was overwhelming.  the draw to acknowledge the good was...it was strong.  a few things from the morning that i had found a glimmer of joy in filled the first page.  i set the book down, pen as my marker, for the next moment of joy recognized.  for about two hours, i would find myself back at that white tile counter, standing on one leg.  like a flamingo as i scrawled another small joy to be thankful for.

i would love to say it worked.  my mood did turn around as slowly only the good was acknowledged and the bad was released back into it’s wild.  the more i wrote, the more my heart changed.  i was seeing and acknowledging joy in the things God had given me that morning and...less and less i was shaking my fist at what i seemed to be in need of.  invitations to children to join me in hugs were sent out, prayers whispered into their tiny ears replaced complaints of messy rooms, and  tears poured down my face as i uncoverd shot records in a place only Jesus could have led me to.  joy was washing away anger.  it was washing away all roads that even dared venture to anger.  i would say that list worked.

my little book of things to be thankful for.  a few more pages are filled each day as i find new meaning in cold green grapes that i don’t have to share.  or sprinkled sugar cookies that i can’t help but share.  it’s filled with funny quotes and copied text messages.  with spiderman jammies and matching slippers, warm towels from the dryer, muddy boots from rain puddle play and body wash that smells so good i could eat it.  it’s getting filled up.  and so am i.

AMY BALLARD

HTTP://WWW.AMYBPHOTOGRAPHY.COM

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TANTRUMS

tantrums on the floor.  screaming for no reason.  boo boo lips.  tears all down the cheeks.

it was time for mama to take a time out.  the morning was hard.  the clothes i so carefully laid out didn’t seem to ever make it on their little bodies, clearly due to lack of effort.  whining started over an unrequested breakfast and evolved into grumbles about the plans for our day.  ears that normally hear the slightest noise of a candy wrapper crinkle (in mama’s hand in mama’s closet…in secret) couldn’t hear a direct request less than three feet from their lobes.  what is wrong with these little people this morning?

silence.  we drive in silence to an errand that had to be done, not because of anger but because i think all of us just really liked the sound.  random questions start to bounce around as random answers are thrown in the mix.  everything from ‘what is a hooterus’ (uterus…we home school…odd stuff comes up…just go with it) to talks about fall colors to singing the christopher columbus rhyme…they all happen in this car ride.  they get me laughing but my mind is on other things.  dinner, a talk i have to give the next day, my current to-do list of photography jobs, the laundry, if i remembered to send a thank you to a friend…stuff like that.

we get home and all the crazies starts again.  i can’t handle it so i put myself in time out…and i pray.  you know the funny thing about prayer?  sometimes God shows us just how ugly we are.  here i am begging for my children to be put back to normal and i am called out instead.  that burns.  like icy hot, it burns.  it hurts a bit at first but starts to feel cool…and comforting.  as i am praying, my phone alerts me to a new email i just received…and i stop praying to check it.  eek.  i just wrote that.  yeah…i know…i stopped praying to check my phone.  God doesn’t send emails.  it didn’t hit me until i opened the email, read it and got in a feeling of pressure to answer it immediately.  out of no where, all three kids come scrambling to my side with three different request in three different pitches that, when combined, made my head spin and ears hurt.

all of a sudden, it was made very clear to me.  there was nothing wrong with these three little people today.  it was me.  i was allowing worry to take over and it was making me ugly.  maybe dinner will be nachos tonight because that is easy.  maybe the laundry won’t get done today but it will have to someday lest we plan on starting a nudist colony.  maybe i have to stay up until midnight working to get things done.  and maybe the thank you note can wait a day or two more.  right now, i need to take some time out and cuddle with my kids.  i need to kiss their foreheads, squeeze them tight and let them know they are so very important.  i need to shut off my brain, give them my full attention and let my job as mommy be the only thought on my mind.  we have games to play, books to read, bikes to ride…and then…I will teach them how to fold laundry.

Amy B

Amybphotography.com/blog

CONFESSIONS OF A SHOPAHOLIC

Like many of you, we are on a tight budget.  Problem is, I like to shop.  Okay, that’s an understatement.  I love the hunt for a sale, the smell of new leather, the texture and weaves of fabrics, even the excitement of a new bag of groceries.  Is it obvious?  I can get out of control.  So, I’m fasting this month.  Not from food, but from shopping.  Whenever I have the impulse to shop unnecessarily, I’m staying put.  I’m exchanging the desire with more productive things.  And I’m not doing it alone-I’ve asked my Heavenly Father for help.  Help honoring my husband in this matter, controlling my impulses, and managing our financial priorities.

It’s now the third week of this shopping fast, and it is getting tough!  Today I drove past the Galleria and thought about going in to browse.  The quiet voice of the Holy Spirit, our Helper, reminded me, “Watch the path of your feet and all your ways will be established.  Do not turn to the right nor to the left. Turn your foot from evil” (Proverbs 4:26,27).  I didn’t listen.  I turned right and parked.   I paused for a moment after stepping foot into the store, then stubbornly took the escalator to the women’s department.  I sifted through the bargains and picked a few to try on.  I can always justify a sale!  Again, the Helper told me “Flee”.  This time I listened.

As I drove home, tears filled my eyes.  Not from guilt or shame, but gratitude that God has given us the Helper to guide us into a life that is honoring to Him.  He doesn’t force us into action; instead He speaks to our hearts and gives us power for daily living.  It’s up to you and me to listen, respond “yes”, and then experience the freedom that comes from walking closely with our Lord.  This is what it means to “Walk in the Spirit”.

Whatever the battle you face today, will you let your Heavenly Father know you need His help?  You can trust that the Holy Spirit, your Helper, will do His job by guiding you into all Truth.  Ask Him to help you hear His voice and to respond, “Yes, Lord”.  Then come back and tell me how He blesses your life!

BONNIE J CHRISTENSEN

womangonewise.com

PRACTICE MAKES PERFECT - EVEN IN SEX

Right now, I am in the middle of fairly intense media training. My assignment is to shoot 5 one-minute videos each day. That’s not so difficult. However, later that day, I have sit down with a team of people while we all watch and critique the videos. And believe me, there is a lot to critique.

The team tackles issues such as gestures, phraseology, eye movements, expression, emphasis, content, lighting, makeup, and wardrobe. Yesterday was a particularly spectacular day because I wore a sweater that blended into the background and made me appear as though I had no arms.  Seriously, every person watching the video laughed out loud, pointed and said, “you have no arms!!” or “wardrobe malfunction!!”

It sucks.

I am deriving very little pleasure from this process.

All my insecurities and perfectionist tendencies are coming to the surface.

I want to run and hide every time the team meets.

I cringe every time a new video starts.

And yet, I am keenly aware that if I want to accomplish some of my goals for 2011 this is exactly the type of training that I need. I will only develop this skill set by completing my assignment each and every day and then learning how I can improve – not just through my own eyes, but from the perspectives of others too. It helps that when I look up from my computer to the list of goals that hangs on the wall across from me, I am able to remember the reasons why I must press on despite the fact that I am miles outside of my comfort zone.

But it still sucks.

As I ponder what I am doing, it occurs to me that it is not unlike one of the principles that I teach my coaching clients.

If you are going to become a better lover, you must practice. I don’t just mean have sex more often; I mean have times in which you consciously lower your expectations of each other. I find that we put enormous expectations on our sexual relationships. They have to be good, all the time. There is very little room for “practice sex”.

In practice sex, the two of you decide that you want to get more skilled in a particular area. Perhaps she has never had multiple orgasms before, and you want to see what it takes to get her there. Perhaps he would like oral sex as part of your foreplay, and you are completely intimidated by this concept.

Set aside time when the two of you agree that you are going to practice. By agreeing ahead of time, you ease the pressure of performance. Then, allow for mistakes (and possibly even mediocre sex) during this time.  Remember that it’s okay to not be great when you are practicing!!  The goal is learning how to become better!!

Just as I am learning as I shoot these videos, couples need to remember that in order to get really good at sex, you have to go through the awkward learning stage. So be patient with each other and enjoy it as much as possible!

I am now going to take my own advice and set up the video camera.

PS – My goal is to start rolling out “Vlogs” soon. Hopefully, I will have arms in them.

Eryn-Faye Frans, Canada's Passion Coach®

http://www. erynfaye.com

THE DAFFODIL

The other day a coworker of mine brought me a daffodil. Just one extra yellow, long stemmed, wonderful daffodil. I think she bought it for a dollar from a homeless woman outside of our office building.

That daffodil revolutionized my day. 

I would gaze at it and my face would break into the biggest grin. I was friendlier and more outgoing for the rest of the day. On my way home, I held my daffodil out against the backdrop of concrete buildings and sidewalks and cars and people - astonished at how beautifully my simple yellow flower stood out against a normal, grey, Seattle day. I sniffed the daffodil about every five seconds on the bus, burying my nose into the petals and smiling to myself. My heart was full from one person reaching out to me in a small, oh-so-sweet way.

Can you believe the effect of that little gift? I’m not sure if my coworker faced these same anxieties, but if I was her I might have thought about how nice it would be to give someone a flower, but that’s where I would have stopped - at a nice idea. I would have scared myself out of following through by thinking: “one flower is too small - it has to be a bouquet or the receiver will think you’re cheap,” or “you don’t know her that well - she will think you’re weird for giving her a gift.” 

After realizing what a blessing an unexpected gift was to me, I am learning to be aware of opportunities to encourage someone else and brave enough to follow through.

LINDSAY HALE