What do I want?

Sometimes it's good to ask yourself that simple question and then listen to your answer.

What do I want?
                            What do I want?
What do I want?
                                                                            What do I want?

1. I want to know God better...
2. I want my kids to grow up to be good people...
3. I want to feel like I have done something that mattered...

This is how I fell about myself regarding want # 1

from "The Way of the Pilgrim"

 I do not love God. For if I loved God I should be continually thinking about Him with heartfelt joy. Every thought of God would give me gladness and delight. On the contrary, I much more often and much more eagerly think about earthly things, and thinking about God is labor and dryness.

 If I loved God, then talking with Him in prayer would be my nourishment and delight and would draw me to unbroken communion with Him. But, on the contrary, I not only find no delight in prayer, but even find it an effort. I struggle with reluctance, I am enfeebled by sloth, and am ready to occupy myself eagerly with any unimportant trifle, if only it shortens prayer and keeps me from it. My time slips away unnoticed in futile occupations, but when I am occupied with God, when I put myself into His presence every hour seems like a year.

 If one person loves another, he thinks of him throughout the day without ceasing, he pictures him to himself, he cares for him, and in all circumstances his beloved friend is never out of his thoughts. But I, throughout the day, scarcely set aside even a single hour in which to sink deep down into meditation upon God, to inflame my heart with love of Him, while I eagerly give up twenty-three hours as fervent offerings to the idols of my passions.

 I am forward in talk about frivolous matters and things which degrade the spirit; that gives me pleasure. But in the consideration of God I am dry, bored and lazy. Even if I am unwillingly drawn by others into spiritual conversation, I try to shift the subject quickly to one which pleases my desires.

 I am tirelessly curious about novelties, about civic affairs and political events; I eagerly seek the satisfaction of my love of knowledge in science and art, and in ways of getting things I want to possess. But the study of the Law of God, the knowledge of God and of religion, make little impression on me, and satisfy no hunger of my soul. I regard these things not only as a non-essential occupation for a Christian, but in a casual way as a sort of side-issue with which I should perhaps occupy my spare time, at odd moments.

To put it shortly, if love for God is recognized by the keeping of His commandments (If ye love Me, keep My commandments, says our Lord Jesus Christ), and I not only do not keep them, but even make little attempt to do so, then in absolute truth the conclusion follows that I do not love God. That is what Basil the Great says: 'The proof that a man does not love God and His Christ lies in the fact that he does not keep His commandments'.

The unintended consequences of New Year's resolutions

There comes a day when you decide 'enough is enough' and you actually do that thing that you have been trying to do for so long. I don't know what makes this day different from yesterday or the day before or all the days before that, but it is. The change sticks, the wishing stops. The first day of the rest of your life starts. And that night, you can look yourself in the eye, when you look in the mirror, and on that day, you actually like what you see. You kept your word to yourself. You didn't make any empty promises to yourself. You never once said "I'll just start tomorrow". Because you already started. It is tomorrow!

And when you slip up, this time it is not over. It is just learning what works and what doesn't. It is figuring things out. It is working out the kinks of this new life of yours. This little change, in the whole scheme of things, really isn't that much. But little changes add up. Little victories gain territory. Move you forward into lands you once thought lost.

The strangest, most unexpected part is that you now can hear those tiny inner voices loud and clear in your head. The ones you fed to keep quiet. They are ugly little voices. Negative little creatures. "why even try" they chant. "So you did ok today. What about tomorrow? If you don't keep it up tomorrow, then today's hard work is pointless". But now you recognize the little nags for what they really are. And you whisper to them that tomorrow doesn't matter. Only today. You can't control tomorrow or next week but you can control what you do today. What you do right now. And if you can control what you do this minute, when tomorrow comes, you can take control of it too.

Before you know it, you see results. Not big. Not so much that anyone else would notice. But that is ok. Because this is forever. And all you have is time.

Easter 2013

overwhelmed into inactivity?

This generation of Children we are raising is the most documented generation in history. We have pictures of them doing everything and nothing. And as a parent most of the childhood milestones are views through a lens. I realized that with this tidal wave of pictures, I haven't printed pictures in almost 4 years. Their all on the computer. And as I look at the stack of video tapes I need to convert to DVD, I realize how quickly technology can change and how easily all these memories can be lost. So I hearby solomly promise to print more pictures and update my actual photo albums just in case my computer crashes and everything is lost.

50 reasons to Love Las Vegas

Kelly"s Parents Celebrated their 50th wedding anniversary this year.

 We had a special dinner for them with all their brothers and sisters and their spouses.

 It was rare fun to have everyone together.

 We continued the celebration with a long weekend in Las Vegas, where we took in a show, ate good food and took a forced march down the strip as I fulfilled my secret desire to be a tour guide.

BuSy BoDy

Well it happened. I am officially busy. I never meant for this to happen. In fact I  actively tried to avoid it. I decided a long time ago that I never wanted to be that busy, stressed, hectic, frantic,  running late, frenetic person that I have observed from time to time. Which is why I think I have avoided this state for so long. But now, I feel busy. Which is ironic because technically I have more time that ever. My little bug is in preschool for three hours a day- nine golden hours a week. Where does it go? Has it filled up with projects I never would have attempted last year? Have I just lost all time management skills? Or do I really just have a lot going on?

There are some definite perks to being busy. I get to send friends home because I have to leave to drop off or pick up my swimmer from swim team practice. I can serve a throw- together left-over dinner because I don't have time to thaw anything. I can let personal hygiene go because I just didn't have time to shower. (Ok that's not a perk. It is just gross)

The part that I don't like is that I sometimes feel I am to busy for people. One of my pet peeves is people who are "to busy" to return a phone call or a text. But I have found myself not wanting to call  someone because I don't want to take the time to talk right now. Sad!

I think this is how it is going to be so I better get used to it and maybe give up on a few things and talk on the phone a little more...

The Language of time

     Instead of saying "I don't have the time" try saying "it's not a priority," and see how that feels. Often that's a perfectly adequate explanation. I have time to iron my sheets, I just don't want to. But other things are harder. Try it: "I'm not going to edit your resume, sweetie, because it's not a priority." "I don't go to the doctor because my health is not a priority." If these phrases don't sit well, that's the point. Changing our language reminds us that time is a choice. If we don't like how we're spending an hour, we can choose differently.--Laura Vanderkam