We Can’t Find Five Minutes

Note: This is the first post in a series of thoughts and meanderings of my mind about how our past shapes our life now, and the way our perception changes as we age. Mainly it is about my faith life and what affects it has on what I do and feel today. This is a part of my life journey I thought I would share in case others had the same feelings. There is no right or wrong. Your journey may be different than mine but I was relieved when I took time out of my busy life and found others who share with me letting me know I am not alone in the journey.

Chapter One: We Can’t Find Five Minutes

img_1600Last year my emotions ran amok. One of my best friends died. There were health problems with my husband and I was exhausted. Through all of this one book helped me. It was Max Lucado’s book Anxious for Nothing. There were days I would only read a paragraph or two and there were days I would read an entire chapter.

Something about this book drew me in, gave me comfort and made me feel as if I could conquer my anxiety and fear with God by my side.

Taking time to read also became an issue in my life. I read books from author friends to give them an honest review but I was so busy spinning the wheels in my head, that my brain told me I had no time in the midst of my chaos and sadness to do what my inner voices said were frivolous things.

I kept writing my column, Something About Nothing, becoming more honest about my feelings on various subjects, but some weeks it was hard to find inspiration. In 2018 I did not put out a single book in either one of my cozy mystery series. I drifted along advertising the ones I wrote the past five years. I could not find the inspiration for a new book. Out in public I would smile and joke but I felt sad inside.

During this time I decided to start a Facebook Group called Slices of Life. It is a private group for those who wanted to read Max Lucado’s book and discuss it. I found I was not very good at leading a book group because no one had the time to read and I was shirking on my duties to lead for that very reason.

This group all has anxiety and fear as I do and I hoped together we could take the journey and find some kinship and answers. I wanted it to be a shared group but I found many could not have the time to find five minutes a day to sit down and read. And trying to find that time made them more stressed. To be fair, I work from my home and many in the group had families and work schedules.

I decided to read a page out loud every day and some liked that but then it became a burden and stress for me because if I didn’t do it I felt as if I was letting people down. Have you ever felt that way? And that feeling left me pondering what it is we are looking for to help us when we can’t take the time to help ourselves.

Tomorrow’s post: Anxious About Everything

Missing Those Saints

This column ran in the Courier Sentinel this week but the last few paragraphs were left off. This is the entire column.

I have written the column Something About Nothing since 2005. It appears every Monday in the
Albert Lea Tribune and every other week in the Courier Sentinel. Usually it is the same column
in both papers.  

I have decided I want to branch out with another column called Sprinkled Notes. It matches my
blog of the same name. On my blog the blurb says it is about a little bit of “this n’ that.” It makes  sense to link the two together. So please bear with me. My new column is going to make its  debut in this paper and will be a different topic than published on Something About Nothing.  

Sprinkled Notes

Missing Those Saints

We have a term in our church called Senior Saints. I suppose I could call myself a member of
the Senior Saints now that I have reached that age. By that age I mean the age at which one  considers someone a Senior Citizen which seems to vary from person to person and store to store. However, I am far from being a Saint.  

The reason the Senior Saints are on my mind is a member of our church died this weekend. Her
name was Grace, and in my mind she was a Saint long before she became a Senior.

Others from our congregation have gone before her and some of their names will live in my heart and mind forever too. Names such as Gerald, Lorraine, Emily, Wilbert and Donny, to name a few. These people made a difference in my life. None of them would have called  themselves saints. They went through their life touching people. None of them achieved what  the world would call greatness. They weren’t lauded across the nation or broadcast on Social  Media, but they made a steady difference in the life of the people they met every day, and the  life of their church and especially their families. The one thing they had in common was their love of God and they showed it in the way they lived. It wasn’t loud but quiet and gentle. Well,  occasionally it was loud when a couple of them were telling one of their famous jokes.  

I remember when I was new to the Lutheran Congregation and I attended Bible Studies led by
Lorraine, Emily and Grace. I learned more about God and the Bible, but most of all I learned  about kindness and love for others. I saw their dedication to their church in all they did quietly  such as Altar Guild, Women’s groups, Choir, Ushering, Church Council and of course teaching  others about the word.  

I met Gerald when I became the head of our Sunday School and he was one of our teachers.
He taught I think for over twenty years or more. He, with his wit and humor made a difference in the lives of young members in his teaching, and in his leadership of youth groups, taking them  out into nature in the Boundary Waters to teach them about the beauty of creation.  

I met Wilburt when he ushered every Sunday without fail. It wasn’t unusual for him to grab one of
my kids and hold them on his lap while we went up for communion in the days before kids could
go along to be blessed. And he always had a twinkle in his eye and made us feel welcome.  

Donny was a family member. He married my cousin and then after she died, a best friend. I got
to know him in another way. He too was always in church, ushered every Sunday and charmed  people with his wit knowing when you saw him to expect a friendly razzing. 

Each one of these Senior Saints also had jobs outside of their church life and they lived their
faith in the way they treated people in their workplace and on the street. They weren’t different
people when they walked out of that church. You could count on the fact they were who theyrepresented themselves in and out of church.

And each of these people at one time or another served on the church council.

One of the things I liked best was that even if they didn’t always agree with what you did, or how
you viewed something, they would state their point without belittling and making you feel less
than.

These people, who are no longer with us, made a difference quietly in my life as a young adult
and as I aged. As I look around today I don’t know if my generation can live up to those Senior
Saints of the past. We tend to think of making a difference as making a big splash, but not as
one quietly living our lives, making a difference by just being themselves in someones life and
quietly spreading their faith.  

I look at our choir and see the spots some of those Saints used to occupy. I still see them
singing with joy along with the rest of the choir. They occupied those spots with other Senior Saints still alive. The choir is peppered here and there with younger ones, but not many. And I
wonder…in our churches… if anyone will be remembered as these that have gone before us are
remembered, for their kindness, their knowledge, and their dedication to their faith.  

I know I am failing. Am I the only one? Thank you special ones, who shared your lives and your
faith. You are indeed Saints. Grace you will be missed. Thank you for influencing my faith. 

Leaving a Legacy of Faith

1https://www.flickr.com/photos/pictoquotes/I don’t usually blog about my faith. I don’t think I wear it on my sleeve and there are moments when I don’t feel I am a good example of my faith so I don’t broadcast it. But today I am going to write about faith, not mine, but the examples I have had in my life.

Recently I lost four people, one as recent as last night, who have been a shining examples in my life. They didn’t shout it to the rooftops but they quietly influenced others in the way we should live our lives.

I wrote my column earlier this week on three of them, but last night God needed another angel in heaven.  His name was Gerald.

I first met Gerald when I was Sunday School superintendent many years ago. He taught for almost as many years as I had been alive. That might be an exaggeration but not by much. He cared about the kids, took them on many trips to the Boundary Waters to experience God’s creation and interacted with everyone young and old in our congregation. His sense of humor made us all smile. He was a fixture, always there, not preaching but leading and being a friend to all.  I never heard him say an unkind word to anyone and I always remember him having a smile on his face. He inspired all of us in his quiet way to treat people kindly.

When I heard of my friend’s death last night I thought about these four people who influenced my life and I wondered; will our younger generation have examples of faith as I have had? In this world it seems we may have lost our way and the examples we have make up  the reality of our times. We seek examples in other places besides the quiet people we know that live their lives walking beside us as an example of how we should treat other people. Will our younger people look back at the age I am and see the quiet influence of those in our life who have walked the walk and talked the talk of faith?

I share my column to honor my other three friends too.

Here’s my column. from the Albert Lea Tribune the week of October 26.

There are people in our lives who influence us in a silent way when we are with them. They make us laugh. They make us think. They help us experience life in a different way through the way they live their lives. It is so silent we don’t realize the impact they have on us, but when we walk away from spending time with them or talking with them on the phone or messaging with them on Facebook we are better people for interacting with them.

This week my heart is sad, but yet it is filled with hope. In the past few weeks there have been three people in my life who have left this earth and left their legacy behind. One I have known since I was teenager; his name was Dave. Another I met in the past 20 years because her parents were good friends of ours, and she became a good friend, too. Her name was Shannon. The third was an author friend, a Facebook friend, and touched my life from afar even though I never met her but spent time messaging and chatting with her on Facebook. Her name was Joyce.

Dave touched my life when I was teenager. I remember at that time thinking that he and his wife had the love story we always hope for when we get married. It didn’t mean there would not be tough times but love would conquer all. I was reminded as I sat listening to his family at the funeral that Dave always had a smile for everyone, always made the person he was talking to feel special and always let his family and friends know what they meant to him in his life. He touched my life in ways I did not realize until he was gone. His faith inspires me even after he has left this earth. I will remember it always.

Shannon battled ovarian cancer for 12 1/2 years. All the while she was going through her journey with this disease she took care of her family, she ran her business and she did it with a smile, a sense of humor, hope in her heart and she saw beauty in every day and she shared that beauty with all of us. She was courageous and beautiful inside and out. She believed in the goodness of God’s love, and she shared that faith with her family and friends on a daily basis. She loved us, and she was deeply loved and she will continue to inspire us the rest of the days of our life.

Joyce LaVene and her husband, Jim, are the authors of over 60 books in the mystery genre. The books are whimsical, fun and mysterious. Joyce died suddenly, and the writing world mourns her death. I can’t tell you exactly when Joyce entered my life. The first time I became aware that she was in my life she had shared some of my posts and my tweets. Soon we messaged, and I found out she had lived in Minnesota at one time. We had something in common. She became a regular part of my online life and I looked forward each day to sharing tweets and was always surprised when she promoted my books because in my eyes she is famous. Joyce was generous and kind with all her author friends and her readers. She took time to know us, to help us, and she made us feel we were special part of her life. I will miss her sparkling personality and our connection.

As I contemplate the sadness I feel at losing these people I also feel blessed for their presence in my life. We take those in our life for granted. Each one of these people touched my life, inspire me to be a better person and left me a legacy of hope that I inspire others the same way these three people inspired me. They shaped part of my life silently by their example.

I realize I have written lately about death, but in death there is life. The way we live our lives influences those around us without us knowing it.

These people weren’t saints. These people had their flaws as we all do, but they were genuinely beautiful people inside and out. It doesn’t mean they didn’t get mad, didn’t hurt and didn’t vent their frustrations because they were human. What they left for us was how to handle those moments with grace, dignity and love. They knew how to make others feel special. They knew the importance of giving of themselves to help others. They didn’t set out trying to be an example, and I don’t think they thought of themselves as examples, but unknowingly they touched my life.

A recent conversation with a woman who was a child when I was a teenager reminded me actions are remembered. One day she wanted to tag along with me and my teenage friends. We weren’t so kind that day and I feel ashamed thinking of it. I remembered it and so did she 50 years later. I apologized. It took me 50 years to do it. The way I treated someone 50 years ago still lived in the memory of the person I was unkind to 50 years later.

I think of what I say to people on a daily basis. I think of how I interact with those I love. I am not always kind. I am not always patient. Would I be ashamed of what my last words would be to the person I am speaking to if something happened to me or to them? Another conversation I had a year or so ago with a friend reminds me of that.  The last words remembered by this friend coming from the person who now was deceased, were angry cutting words directed towards my friend.

I feel blessed to have known these three people who inspired me to try to live my life better in the future. May you rest in peace, Dave, Shannon and Joyce. Thank you for the memories.