Patience? What’s that?

Patience happens to be something I find I have very little of… I try to be patient, but Oh! The anticipation! Regardless of the anticipated outcome: good or bad, I want it here. And I want it now.

…I admit that I’m a bit of a hypocrite when it comes to patience. I’m consistently telling my son to be patient: don’t interrupt; no, we are not there yet; wait until you are older; among the many other quips we, as parents, find ourselves repeating over and over to our children. I even ask my fiancé to be patient: I’ll be ready in 5 minutes; I’ll just quickly run in and out. However, he admits to being even less patient than I.  

We all find ourselves with patience tried at one time or another. But can you imagine being patient in a time a loved one has beaten you or your children? Or being patient with a woman that continues to return to her abuser, time after time?

As the saying goes, time heals all wounds, but who has the patience?

Those at Children’s Inn have the patience of saints. The women, the children, the counselors, the volunteers: they all, while patience may be tried, take the time to heal the wounds, waiting, with patience. Anticipatory, likely; but patient still.

In the beginning of 2010, I had the opportunity to help initiate a makeover effort for Children’s Inn. The plan: grand, the timeline: immediate, and the effort: valiant of all involved. However, the execution? Delayed, and delayed, and delayed again.

Towards the end of 2010, my fear was that this effort would be abandoned, and that was something I could not bear. I had made a commitment to Children’s Inn and vowed to see it through. So, after months of work had gone into the effort, the effort was revised. The plan: less grandeur, more basic with functionality; the timeline: immediate still; the effort: unbelievable. And the execution? Completed!

Through Furniture Outlets USA, South Dakota Furniture Mart, and their fantastic and caring vendors, an overflowing amount of participation and assistance poured in. And finally, in May of 2011, the install took place.

Three common areas, a large family room, a small family room, and a teen area at Children’s Inn received fresh paint, all new furniture, area rugs, TVs, and wall art. The visible difference was drastic and beautiful; from industrial to cozy, stark to warm. The response was heartfelt and humbling, to know that those seeking safety will also find a comfort of home they may have never known before.

There is now an electric fireplace crackling in the large family room in front of the large scale sectional. And over-stuffed, comfortable rocking chairs towards the back of the room to comfort small children.

It is not uncommon to find someone curled up on the chair in the small family room quietly reading a book. Or find older children playing video games on the new flat screen TVs in the teen area.

And to witness this transformation for Children’s Inn? Definitely worth the wait.

Patience, while fleeting, is a wonderful thing. Because you can’t deny, some things are just worth waiting for. Some things are worth never giving up on. And the best things are often the most difficult to obtain, requiring hard work, and, of course, plenty of patience.

Click on the photos to the right to view some before and after makeover pictures of Children’s Inn.

To learn more about Children’s Inn and how you can help stop the violence visit http://www.chssd.org/ChildrensInn/

Get Your Red On!

I’ve always loved the color red. It’s so vibrant, so alive. Wanna make a statement? Red makes it loud and clear. I’ve got a red leather purse, red shoes, a few red shirts, and a little red-dress pin. And I’m wearing many of these things today for National Wear Red for Women Day. What a fantastic cause!

A woman’s heart bears many things. We bear the pain of our loved ones: the worry, the fear, the sorrow, the broken hearts, the disappointments, the aches, and the tenderness. And we revel in their joy.

I remember reading an email about being a mother, and it reasoned that the experience of having a child gives a woman the ability to live with her heart entirely on the outside of her body. I love that analogy… I’ve found no better explanation to describe how much a mother cares for and loves her children.

But it isn’t just the mothers’ hearts that need protecting. It’s the hearts of all women.

So, I ask you to join me today. Get your Red on.


**for more information regarding heart disease, please reference these websites:
http://www.goredforwomen.org/
http://www.heart.org/HEARTORG/

All I Want for Christmas

"Let the children come to me; do not hinder them, for to such belongs the kingdom of God." - Mark 10:14

This is the bible verse written on hundreds of books I delivered to the Children's Inn last night. Hopefully the boxes of books will last a little while, as they are intended for children ages 5 and under. But in addition to my book delivery last night, I also delivered 21 blankets, to make a gift set, for the 21 children, ages 5 and under, that will be spending Christmas at the shelter because their homes are not safe. Sadly, this count does not include the women and other children that are over 5 years...

I brought Isaac with me, mostly to be my helper. On our way there it dawned on me: he will be celebrating 6 Christmas parties this year, with 6 families that love him, protect him, and help him succeed. I have no doubt in my mind that Isaac is aware of all of the love and support he has, as well as the sheer amount of presents he'll be raking in this holiday season. But what about those 21 kids, 5 and under, whose homes are too unsafe to spend Christmas? Where is their love and support? Please don't misunderstand me - the effort of the Children's Inn staff is a Christmas miracle for the women and children that need them all year long. But the shelter, although safe, still isn't "home." Not the kind of home I know and love.

I think of the Christmas lists my son made and all of the toys and games he wants. And although there are a few things on that list he will be denied - like the live lizard, for example - most of his wishes he will get this year. Not to mention those few things I know he'll love, that he just didn't think to ask for.

I think of my own Christmas wish, of spending time with the people I love most. And I can feel the anticipation of the gatherings that start in just a few days. It's palpable. It's so close, I can almost taste the treats and smell dinner cooking. I don't have to wait long for my wish to be granted.

I can't imagine Christams wishes like mine being worlds away from my grasp. I can't imagine wishing the person I loved most would love me in a less painful way. I can't imagine my child wishing for fears that he should never have had to experience in the first place to subside. Or for him to be excited about the very things we take for granted every day - like the milk in the fridge, the blankets on our beds, and even the toys on the shelf (or, more frequently, on the floor). It's unfathomable.

This holiday season, and every season, we should all say a prayer for those less fortunate. Lend a helping hand in some way, whether it be through a donation or deed. I know in my heart there is more I can do for others. It is easy to forget, when it isn't the life you live, but helping one in need is something you'll never regret. And it may be the best gift they have ever received. 

Vulnerability. It's What Love Is.

I like to think of myself as being a strong woman. A pillar of strength for my friends and my family, a role model, a leader, even a furniture mover when necessary.

But, I'm not strong.

I have been a single mom for the past 5 years. Braving the boogie man, the monsters under the bed, the others in the closet, the strange creaks at night, and the startling crash of thunderstorms. Fixing the ear of the teddy bear the dog chewed on, the holes in the t-shirts, the TV remote control, the computer when its too slow, among countless stuck zippers. Teaching how to tie a shoe, button a shirt, ride a bike, throw a football, and show kindness to others. Comforting when a knee is scraped, the flu is caught, a fever is breaking, legs are aching, or a tummy just hurts.

But, I'm not strong.

I have been a manager, leading a team of advertising professionals, who also happen to be some of my closest friends. I've conducted meetings for company presidents and chief officers, held forums for giant corporation VPs, and presented at the front an entire organization - not to mention high schools and elementary schools.

But, I'm not strong.

I have managed to move a full-sized sofa, circa 1970-something, out of a living room, through a hallway, aroung the dining room corner, and down a flight of 20 steps. Which, rather than strength, was far more of a show of stubborn resolve combined with the advice of my father to slide it down the steps on it's back. ...He just didn't realize over the phone that I was doing this solo. Regardless, his brilliance proved a positive result for me to get what I wanted: that 70's sofa outta there and myself unscathed!

But, still, I am not strong.

I've shown strength, but not because it's what I am. Because it is what I have had to do. It was always as a response or an action. Not a state of being. While experiencing all of those situations that have forced me to exhibit some level of strength may have helped to form who I have become, it isn't the situation or the strength that defined me then or now.

Because I am not strong.

I seem to do a fair job at keeping up with the appearance of having a modicum of at least inner strength, but in reality, I'm only strong when I have to be. When there is no other option but to be strong, until the moment comes when I can fall apart. It inevitably happens... most comfortably in my own bedroom, after my son is sound asleep, and I am by myself.

Because I am vulnerable.

Feeling vulnerable is scary. Letting others witness your vulnerability is even more scary. At least it used to be, for me. But I've found something magnificent. Relieving, really, when you stop to think about it. Because I've found this crazy thing that allows me to let my guard down. And a person who catches me when I fall down, feel down, break down. I assure you, I am far less than beautiful during these times.

But he loves me still.

That's what real love is. It is the allowance to let it all out to a heart that listens, cares, understands, and doesn't judge you. A real love enjoys the best of you, laughs with you, plays with you; and when you need it most is there for you with a shoulder cry on and arms to wrap you up with, which manage to make things better somehow.

It's knowing that you don't have to do it all on your own - not that you aren't capable, but that there is more than you. It's sharing - not just the good times, but also those that you aren't quite sure how else to get through.

It's an accordance. It's acceptance. It's vulnerability.

It's what love is.

All We Need is a Little Bit of Carelessness

I've come to a startling conclusion. A disturbing self-realization, to be more exact. I've discovered that I'm opinionated, often narrow-minded, maybe even stubborn, and (yikes!) not necessarily always right.

Ouch. It's a painful awareness...

And here I had this admittedly biased understanding of myself as being some sort of open-minded, listen-to-reason, cool-and-collected super mom. Nope. Not even close.

As long as things are going my way, I may appear to be open minded. Maybe even cool and collected. But once things are different than I had thought them to be in my perfect little plan that exists only in my head? Cool and collected is out the window. And I find myself frantically attempting to gain back that control of perfect plan going as planned, perfectly. It makes me anxious, and not in that I'm-so-excited-for-Christmas sort of way. Anxious, like sick-to-my-stomach sort of way, where-did-I-go-wrong sort of way, the-world-as-we-know-it-is-ending sort of way. And all I can think to myself is "holy cow! calm down and give me a break!" I mean, that's the exact sort of thing I'd say to my son if he were having a mini-meltdown over something that completely doesn't matter in the long run.

I've found that, regarding the mantra "practice what you preach," I'm great at the preaching part, but the practice part needs... well, a little practice.

So I wonder to myself, when did I get to be such a control freak? When did my laissez-faire attitude turn into one in need of stringent order? I remember a time when order was the enemy and caution was thrown to the wind. These days, the only place my order-opposing past is evident is on the top of of my desk at work... and maybe my kitchen counter. Okay, yes, definitely my kitchen counter. But it's hardly chaos. It's the catch all of my orderly necessities. My son's school papers that need saving, my retirement statements that need filing, and the rest of my mail that needs sorting. It's a place where my need of order just has yet to occur. So, it's kind of like a waiting place for my neurosis. ...disgusting.

Maybe I need a little childlike carelessness back into my way of thinking. Maybe we ALL need a little bit of childlike carelessness. Not too much - a little goes a long way. There are still responsibilities that need to be upheld. But, sheesh! Let's have a little bit of fun!

Life is just too short to worry about the little things. Let a little laissez-faire attitude back in. Whatever will be, will be. We never really get to control what happens, anyway. While our choices may determine which route we take, we really only control our reaction to it and our attitude along the way.

As I say this, I realize that I'm going to have to ask my son a favor. "Alright, kiddo. Show me how we do this. It's been a looooooooooong time." It's not so bad learning something new. Or, rather, re-learning something I maybe shouldn't have forgotten in the first place. Especially from my son.

And I'm more than positive I'll be better than I am now for it.

Inspiring Joy

I recently had the daunting task of interviewing for a new employee. I am not a fan of this responsibility of my job. I find it takes too much time away from my work day, when I already feel like I don't have enough time to complete all of the other responsibilities piled upon my desk. Additionally, because as every manager or business owner knows, it is expensive to hire new employees. You have the expenses incurred in advertising for applicants, the time spent to read resumes and interview, the learning curve once you find someone, and the list could go on and on... It is a big responsibility finding the right person for the right job.

Thankfully, my interviewing is over, the new employee is settled in, for the most part trained, and is carving her way through the learning curve of this industry and organization. Optimistically, I think she's going to do a fine job. And my fingers are crossed that I'm right.

Throughout this round of interviewing, I received a few thank you cards in the mail. There was one in particular that I thought was beautiful - so much so, that I actually took the time to visit the creator's website as noted on the back of the card, through which I stumbled upon this site: http://www.scatteredjoy.com/.

I watched the "video of the day" and found it so inspiring, I just had to share...
Here is the direct video link. 

http://www.scatterjoy.com/joy/patrick-henry-hughes

Enjoy.

Pure. Simple. Joy.

I read an article not too long ago that stated something to the effect of this ...regardless of how much money a person makes, the average person feels he (or she) would be happier if he made 20% more. This same study also proved that, on average, if an individual were to make 20% more, by the end of the first year, his lifestyle choices fulfill that entire 20% increase in pay, to the point that the increase was completely ineffective to his financial standing, and his happiness level is completely unchanged.

Proof that money cannot buy happiness.

Happiness is priceless. It has also proven to have a positive effect on your overall health and how you handle stress, both of which have great potential to directly affect the natural longevity of your life.

So, think about this. What are some things that you enjoy? What are the good things in life? What truly makes you happy? Forget about the activities that simply occupy your mind or cause you to forget about your troubles for awhile. I'm talking about pure and simple joy. It's out there. It's attainable. And it doesn't cost a cent.

It's an attitude. A choice. A lifestyle. But it is one you have to make and take for yourself. It's so easy to get weighed down by the negative things that are bound to happen. That negativity is infectious and it won't take long before it seeps into every crevice of your life. Things that were once joyful become chores.

Finding pleasure in the little things is a virtue, and one worth striving for.

Shut your eyes and imagine the warm sun shining on your face, the smell of freshly mowed grass, a gentle breeze making the leaves rustle ever so slightly, and you are in no hurry to go anywhere. I can't help but let a smile touch my lips when I experience any one of these things. It's pure. It's simple. And it's certain to make people wonder just exactly what it is that you're smiling about.


(I must also add that, coincidently, that average person in the study mentioned above continues to strive for that next 20%, which is also a great indicator of motivation, but I digress, that is another post...)