Resolution

·                    a measure of the amount of detail in an image

·                    the capability of an optical system to distinguish, find, or record details

·                    the level of information on a display device, such as a monitor

·                    the statement which is debated in policy debate

·                    the smallest change a sensor can detect in the quantity that it is measuring

·                    a written motion adopted by a deliberative body

·                    a measure of digital audio quality

·                    in western tonal music theory is the move of a note or chord from dissonance (an unstable sound) to a consonance (a more final or stable sounding one)

·                    a written motion adopted by a deliberative body (law)

·                    a commitment that an individual makes at New Year's Day

·                    a firm decision to do or not to do something

Definition of RESOLUTION

: the act or process of resolving: as

a: the act of analyzing a complex notion into simpler ones

b: the act of answering: solving

c: the act of determining

Isn’t it interesting how the common theme of resolution seems to be about all the things needed to bring about change? It takes thought, measurement, recording details, displaying information, debating, statements, detecting change, deliberating, measuring quality and even tone, and it involves determination and resolve. My favorite is the definition a: the act of analyzing a complex notion into simpler ones. This about sums it up for me. I am out to simplify my life this year. Out to let loose of the extraneous. To shake off the excess. To hold loosely to everything and let the wind take away all the rest from the branches. I am ready for change. Deliberate change. Ready for a resolve. Ready for SOLVING this whole problem of mine forever. And yes, I know it is not going to be by magic. But then again resolution is about measuring, recording, distinguishing, details, motion, debates, moving from an unstable sound to a more final or stable sounding tone. It will take a firm decision to do and not to do things. And here am I. On the brink of 45. I’ve come a long way from just a few years ago when my weight soared out of control as did the rest of my life. I was ready to give up. Ready to quit. Ready to find a way off of this planet not looking back one minute in regret of my leaving. I wanted to die. I felt horrible. I felt like I was a mess. I saw no other way out. Figured I could never change. I just gave up. Until… I went to a concert (newsboys) and watched a man (Peter Furler) just barely older than I am running all over the stage, singing, dancing, JUMPING, playing and singing his heart out for the crowd. And something in my head began to ask…. Why? Why can this man fly all over the stage and around the room as if he’s on strings and I can barely get up out of bed in the morning, crawl to the office, do my work and drag myself home again back into bed? I was YOUNGER than that fellow! What made him different from me? Why was I giving up? Why can he do that and I can’t? And it bugged the bother out of me. I had no answers. Well, ok, the biggest and most obvious answer was, I was FAT and HE was NOT. Ok, and obviously, he’d spent his time up and going and I had given up on things for the last ten years. But something woke up inside me during that concert. Something whispered into my ear, why not try? Why give up? Then and there I began to search for a way to change.

What a long and bumpy road it’s been for the last three years, but I’ve managed to finally lose THIRTY POUNDS this year alone, and I’ve KEPT it off. And it feels great. I feel good. No more feeling terrible all the time. No more crawling into bed when I get home. No more sitting down to watch hour after hour of TV and staring at the computer playing stupid games that only waste my time and keep me coming back for more. I got outside. I saw the green grass and the blue sky and the beautiful mesquite trees with feathery leaves blowing in the breeze. I watched the birds. I laughed at the squirrels. I danced with the dragonflies. I smiled at the roadrunners and ladybugs and bees buzzing around the bright yellow dandelions. I felt the wind on my face softly playing with my hair and I closed my eyes and breathed in LIFE all around me. I started walking. Not fast nor far by any means, but I walked deliberately. I walked for 15 minutes, then another 15. Then I began to walk at my lunchtime too. So much to see. So much to discover. Why had I stayed inside at my wretched desk for so long with all this to go outside and experience? I found life, and it was unfolding in front of me like a new story on the page every time I went outside. So amazing! Every creature became fascinating, from the little ants toiling away foraging for food, to the monarch butterflies migrating south, to the skittish little ground squirrels always playing hide-and-seek in the tall buffalo grass. How could I have stayed inside and missed all of this? I have no idea, but I’m never going back to where I was.

So… with the upcoming new year (the infamous 2012) I am making it my focus, my deliberation, my stable sound, my detailed, measured, finely imaged resolution to get my life back together and lose everything extraneous I don’t need. That means more than just the “body clutter” I’ve accumulated. It also means all the things I’ve held onto a long time, not really needing them, but not able to part with them, like clothes, shoes, books, papers, miscellaneous “stuff” and also habits, self-bashing, attitudes, unbelief, unhealthy thoughts and any other sort of clutter that is keeping me living in a giant dump of unneeded stuff in my life. Enough. Less is more. It’s time to let it all go and sort of declutter my world. I may start with my desk drawers… wow… It looks like I’ve had another person living in my desk. Time to clear it out and start over with a clean slate.

Time to LIVE!

Gifts of Love

I remember the Christmas when I was 8 or 9 years old... We had just moved to Abilene from another little town. Didn't know hardly anyone yet as we had moved after the school year started. I don't remember if we had a live tree that year... I think it was mom's poor little plastic and wooden artificial one... which looked sadly a lot like Charlie Brown's little project... sparse needles and a crooked trunk in the middle... Anyway, it didn't matter. To three sisters itching to decorate for Christmas with anything they could find, the tree was a source of fun and enjoyment as we laughed and strung lights, tinsel, popcorn, paper chains, handmade ornaments and bright red bows from hankies all over the 4 foot disaster. We smiled in triumph as the paper angel with glitter wings was placed atop our joyful project. Mom smiled and said it was wonderful.
We didn't have much money at all that year. I remember mom hoping we had enough to cover the rent and the bills. So we decided to give one another presents with what we had.
My oldest sister surprised me by making up my bed. I was never an organized bedmaker, nor a tidy space keeper on my half of the bedroom. So dear Pam made the bed and organized all my stuff finding a place for everything. I walked in and saw it and caught my breath. Ohhhhhhhh! Wow! Did you do this? Thank you! It looks great!
My younger sister set out making all of us a snack. We had a huge old pecan tree in the back yard, so she went out and gathered up a little sandbox bucket of pecans. I got the pecan cracker and helped her shell them and made sure they were all clean with no shells left. Amanda got a couple of apples from a basket of fruit somebody had given us and sliced them neatly into bite sized wedges. Then she arranged these on 4 plates so each person would have their own, and we enjoyed that snack more than any other before or since.
I made everyone necklaces out of beads and string. We laughed and wore our silly wild necklaces, snacking on pecans and apple slices, sitting on our beds and then sang Christmas songs around the homely tree feeling very much loved and thankful for times of sharing and caring.
Christmas was never so lovely as when we had so little and learned to share what we had and give something we could make with our hands.
And in all the Christmases since, no presents were ever as lovely nor meaningful than those we made from the little we had on hand and gave of ourselves to each other.
In all our years since my sisters have often talked of that one Christmas with fondest memories.
We shared something that day no money could ever match nor exceed.
Gifts of love.
May you give these this Chistmas.
And may you be returned these as well.
Love to you and yours.
Merry Christmas

Faith, Hope, Love and ...Peas?

I have a story to share with you.

Once upon a time, there lived a family of four. There had once been five, but one day the daddy wasn't with them anymore. The mother had to work long hours to support her three little girls. Sadly her job didn't pay very much. It was a struggle sometimes to pay the bills to keep their small house going.

They very often had little or no money at all.

But they were not poor.

They were rich in other things like faith and hope and most especially love.

They shared and cared and learned how to get by on not very much and how to help one another.

One day, the mother looked into her kitchen cabinets, and she found only one thing left inside.

It was a can of green peas.

Now, she knew that her little girls didn't really like peas very much... not much at all.

So she went into her room, closed the door and said a prayer.

She prayed, Lord, I know my girls don't like peas, but that is all we have right now. Please, help my girls to like peas today. And thank you for providing for us. I know you will always take care of us.

Then a wonderful thing happened.

Mother cooked the peas.

The three little girls came to the table.

Mom served up three bowls of peas and they all sat down together.

And the peas never tasted better than that one time.

Everyone ate them. Not one person didn't like them or said yuck.

And nobody went to bed hungry that night.

Then the very next day....

Somebody put a box full of food on the table inside of their house.

And after that, every so often, just when things would look their worst,

another box or bag of food or something else they really needed would keep showing up at just the right time.

Coupons, gift certificates, cash, clothes, food... whatever they needed, God provided over and over.

God used many different people to give them these things.

Friends, family, relatives, church people, complete strangers.

And the little family never went without what was needed.

A simple can of peas...

It means much more than what it looks like.

It is a symbol of faith, hope and love.

In thinking of that can of peas, I remember God will supply all of our needs (Philippians 4:19).
Have faith.

Have hope.

Be filled with love.

Let these bring you something beyond anything you've known before.

The next time you have peas, remember this story.

And remember the One who has promised to care for you.

Peas to you!

Christmas story

Christmas story

Beautiful song my friend arranged.

The Depths of Love

In the depths of His love is a powerful place to be.
We think of depth in terms of deepness of things like water, or a really deep sink hole, or maybe the vast depths of space beyond our little world.
And we seem to like to measure things a lot down here...
We measure mountains to determine the highest height of each one, and measure all those really deep places to find out just how deep they are after all.
We hold up our measuring sticks to keep track of our kids and their growing progress.
We mark the wall to show how tall they've grown over the years.
And we measure the growth of all things from plants and pets to our circle of friends and our incomes.
Then we measure ourselves against our friends and family and those we meet to make sure we're measuring up to them so we can fit in and be as normal and regular or as different and as extraordinary as possible...
That's a lot of measuring.
We seem to spend our whole lives holding up one after another means of measure to everything and everyone along the way.
But what about the real measure of our lives?
Only God can see and know the contents of our heart, no matter what our tape measure or our scales or our yard stick has to say.
He alone knows if we are measuring up.
And in the end, we shouldn't be trying so hard to measure ourselves up to anyone else except Him.
And there lies the real beauty of it all.
We cannot be perfect. We cannot ever reach it while we walk around on this earth filled with the dust of human kind wearing our earthen suits of clay....
And we know this deep down.
It frustrates us to no end sometimes. We're such a long way from being perfect creations.
Tempers flare, we lose sight of our goal, our joy is stolen away and we lose hope and begin to wonder, why does He even bother with me? I can never be perfect.
Ah, but the answer is just beyond that conclusion.
In our imperfect state, we accept Him as the only answer to our lowly position here.
In our sin, we ask Him to complete us.
In our separation from the Father, Jesus becomes that missing piece (or peace) that makes us whole.
Only in Him are we made perfect.
And in that measure, we have nothing to fear.
We know in Jesus, we can finally measure up.
No more struggling to keep up with the Joneses next door and struggle to make ourselves meet their income, their social stature, or their level of fitness, or their social acceptance...
We have ultimate acceptance in His eyes.
What else counts?
Nothing.
It is the one true measure of all eternity.
And in those depths of grace and mercy, we find His love is deeper than anything we can ever comprehend.
What does infinite mean?
God's love is the definition of infinite.
How can one put a limitation on infinity?
How can there be an end to something that is fathomless?
How can something that is bottomless be filled?
How can we put His love into a box and say to anyone, there is no love in God's heart for you...
when it is not true?
How deep and wide it runs.
It encompasses us on every side.
It is a mighty flood that has escaped out of its shore and is surging beyond every border in pursuit of those who have not yet known His love.
It is a fire that fully consumes anything in its path.
It is so large, it can hold all our universe in the palm of one hand, lift it up to the face of love and smile.
And it is so infinite and intimate His love can hear the smallest whisper of our hearts breathed in a prayer in the middle of the night just before sleep sets in
He knows our deepest secrets, our hidden thoughts, our most disguised painful memories...
every tear drop we've cried he has seen, heard and felt.
In our deepest hidden place where we crawl into and shut out the world behind us... even there He is.
He is closer to each of us than the very air we breathe...
He's more a part of us than our own skin.
He is more intimate to me than my very own thoughts inside my head.
He is more life to me than the pounding of my own heartbeat.
How can I measure this?
There is no measure.
It is without end. Measureless. Fathomless.
Deeper than anything I can begin to comprehend.
In His depths is a very powerful place to be indeed.
I am held more secure there than I know.
And He isn't letting go of me... His love is forever.
No matter what.

Finding Freedom

Aha.
So that is what imprisons you...
what holds you inside
caged within
unable to escape
unable to move on
held in place by these hard places of the heart
Hard places.
Prison cells.
A place we cannot move beyond.
Not until we are able to unlock these bonds that bind us
and it is in our hands
if only we can realize the key we hold
too stubborn
unwilling to let go of these old hurts
we hang onto them as though they're golden handcuffs
bracelets of beauty
wear them with pride
... or maybe
they're all too familiar to let them go.
Like a wedding ring.
Once it has been in place a while, taking it off leaves the finger feeling naked.
Exposed.
Unprotected.
Is this protection then?
These shackles of unforgiveness?
We harden our hearts a little more
wear our bonds, like armor on our sleeves
fettered feet and hands
until at long last
we're no longer longing to be free
but content to sit in place, restrained,
confined
manacled to the walls
we are in place, not moving about
we feel safe here.
Here, nobody can hurt us.
No one can find us
we hole ourselves up inside our little burrow in the wall
akin to the other cell mates, we relate our bitterness
clattering our chains
counting each link in remembrance of pain
and lament the way we were before our freedom escaped us
If only they hadn't done this or that.
If only, if only.
And yet the keys dangle from our hands
and we see them not
blind
ignorant
unable to move beyond the past and into the future.
I listen to the birds outside my cell window
beyond these bars, they sing.
they fly.
they haven't a care in the world
no grudges to hold
no bitterness to bear
FREE.
I pause and listen to their song

use the key
to be free
you will fly
just like me

find the key
at your wrist
give the lock
one more twist

golden key
hanging there
free yourself
lose your care

thank the one
made the key
he has freed
you and me

let it go
just forgive
do it now
and you'll live

prison doors
won't hold fast
letting go
of the past

keep it not
set it free
your release
you will see

beyond the bars
freedom lingers
try the key
at your fingers



Forgiveness?
Forgiveness...
It was never mine to keep anyway.
Never mine to try and hoard
or keep locked up away from anyone.
Not even those who have hurt me most
It's not mine to say who it belongs to.
It belonged to Him first.

And the really sad and tragic thing here...
is that many who have hurt so much
don't even know they've done it
No idea.
Free conscience.
Not a clue they've done anything wrong at all.
And here I've sat
angry
hurting
brooding
unable to get past the hurt
while they glided along day to day
blissfully unaware
laughing
carrying on
not a care in the world

Who, then, has been hurt by my unforgiveness?
Them?
No.
Me.


I sigh.
Sit on the ground.
Take the key in hand.
Place it in the lock.
Give it a turn.

A turning in my mind.
A turning over of my heart.
A deliberate turning off of my emotional attachment.
The turning over of my own control of this situation to the Eternal Judge.
Out of my own hands, into His.
And with a turn and a click, the heavy metal pieces fall to the floor.
Clanging loudly against the concrete floor.
Heads turn at the sound.
Eyes stare in wonder.

"What are you doing?"
"Leaving."
"How?"
"I've unlocked these things. Use that little key. Just forgive them."
"What?! I can't. It's impossible. You don't know what they've done to me."
"No, I don't know what they did to you. But, do you want out of here?"
"Well, yeah. Of course I do."
"Then let it go. I mean really, really... let it go. You've got to get past that to find the key."
"You're crazy. You are just crazy. It won't work. I'll just be miserable, and they'll get away with it."
"No, you won't. You won't be miserable anymore. And they won't get away with it. Not if you let it go."
"What? How is my forgiving them going to fix things?"
"Because then whatever they've done can't hurt you anymore."
"It still hurts. It hurts me right now."
"Yeah, I know. But it won't get better sitting in here. This place never helps anyone. People come here to die."
"I...uh... I don't want to die here."
"Trust me then. Let go."
"I just can't."
"Look. Look where you are. Inside this cell. This prison. This open sewer. It stinks. It's miserable. Covered with slime and filth. It's not nice in here. You're in hell in this cesspool. Don't you want to get out? Don't you want to walk out of these doors? To be outside again? Wouldn't you like to breathe in some air that didn't smell like a urinal? To feel the wind blowing on your face? To walk in the grass and under the trees and look up into the wide open sky, just staring forever at the clouds and the birds and the sun? And when is the last time you looked at the stars? I mean more than outside that pitiful little crevice they call a window? Don't you want to LIVE? Don't you want to be FREE?!!"
Tears fall. Shoulders shake with silent sobbing anguish.
Desperation and shame trickle down soiled faces.
"Yes. We want to live. We want to be free."
"Then stop being unforgiving. Open up your heart. Let it go."
"But we don't know how. This is all we know. It's all we've got. We don't have anything else to hold on to."
I smile.
"Come to the window. Listen to the birds. Can you hear the words they're singing?"
We stand for a long time.
Listening to the birds and their song.
Then, one at a time, each face lights up.
Each one looks down at their hands and can see the key hanging there.
Surprised, they glance at me, holding the golden key in hand.
I smile. Go ahead.
Turning of the locks. Clanking of the chains.
The prison is noisy with the clattering of metal on concrete.
We stand a moment, rubbing our wrists and ankles.
We squeeze hands and exchange hugs, each person to the other.
Tears of joy.
Hearts and hands trembling in anticipation.
And then, hands clasped together, hearts racing, we walk out.
A chain of people, letting go, holding nothing but one another's hand in our own hands.
No more chains.
No more shackles.
No handcuffs or manacles.
No bonds.
Nothing but freedom holding freedom.
And we get just outside the door, and break into a run.
Sweeping past the prison yard.
Racing over the hills.
Flying down the roads.
Dashing underneath the trees.
Spilling out into the wide open prairie
Clear blue skies overhead
And we stop then and stare up into the sky that stretches on forever
where we dance and twirl around like little kids
and smile like crazy
because we're free.

Letting go never tasted so sweet.

It's Good To Be Alive!

Today I am getting back to walking.
And it feels like BLISS!
I have awakened.
No more going back to sleep.
No more blaming others.
No more regrets and beating myself up for past mistakes.
No more being unforgiving to those who have hurt me in the past.
What's done is done, there is no going back.
Every day I am more awake and aware.
I am finding that I'm worth fighting for.
I'm finding that I must go after what I need because nobody is going to bring it to me or see what I need.
It's up to me.
Thank God He woke me up and made me aware of this life He's given me.
It is a waste to live my life just going through the motions.
Life is about making mindful decisions.
It is about not just going with the flow.
I must fight for what I want.
I must change what needs changing.
I cannot be hurt if I don't allow it.
Even when people mean to hurt me, if I don't take it how they mean it, and don't let if affect me, I cannot be hurt.
Oh sure, they can beat me and kick me and even kill me...
But the personal stuff like attitudes and gossip and laughing at me making me feel depressed and sad...
it's my mind and I don't have to allow it to change my emotions.
I am able to determine what I let get to me and what I don't allow.
It's all in my mind.
If I am still alive, it's a good day.
Every day is from God, and everything from God is good.
It's all in our perspective.
And oh, it is GREAT to be ALIVE!!!
=)