Tag Archives: personal growth

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How Do You Know When You’re Grown Up?

As the mother of five daughters, I have had no greater joy than watching my girls grow up into remarkable women. Sure I miss watching them take their first wobbly steps, struggling to master the pedals on a bicycle, and assembling shadow boxes for a 5th grade history project. But watching them grow up and leaving those childhoods behind has been my greatest joy.

Three weeks ago today, Madeline’s (23 year, old daughter #4) boyfriend Shawn was hit by a car while riding his bicycle. It was a hit-and-run accident and he has no memory of it until he woke up in the ambulance. His hip was badly fractured. He had minor spine fractures, numerous cuts and scrapes and a terrible road rash on his hip and leg that was about two feet long.  After being hospitalized following major surgery he came to our home to recover.

While Shawn was in the hospital, Madeline never left his side. She was able to be there non-stop. Her current state of unemployment turned out to be a huge blessing.

I have a friend who is a stage-four cancer survivor. She spent a lot of time in the hospital receiving treatments and even a got a stem-cell transplant. I remember her saying, “Never leave anyone in the hospital alone. Someone needs to stay with the patient, spending not just the days but especially the nights as an advocate for him or her.” I’ve never forgotten that and have made sure to follow that advice whenever anyone I love has had to stay in the hospital. Madeline learned to carry that torch.

Shawn’s time in the emergency room and as a hospital patient was really hard. Madeline, at his side, had to help him make sense out of the accident and all the tests being performed on him. Missing meals and precious sleep, she helped him deal with incredible pain and assisted him to perform the most menial, everyday tasks. She was as strong as steel during that time.

After he was moved to our house, her determined, unwavering care continued. I have watched her, with utter admiration, as she strategically helped him in and out of bed, adjusted pillows, steadied the walker, handed crutches, changed bandages, dispensed medications—you name it. She did it. Without complaining. It has been hard. Really hard.

What makes this even more admirable is the fact that she has her own health challenges. She was diagnosed with Crohn’s disease when she was fourteen years old. Physical strength and stamina have always been a challenge for her. As her mom, I have tended to not push her beyond what I thought she could handle. I think I’ve short-changed her.

This situation has called out strength, wisdom and selflessness which I have never had the opportunity to see in her before.

She has truly grown up.

Being grown up is not about reaching a certain age and being able to call yourself an adult.

Being grown up is about doing the hard stuff. It’s about finding joy and gratitude in the midst of horrible circumstances. It’s about not feeling “entitled” to your way or your comfort. It’s also about taking initiative, not waiting to be asked. And, not resenting when you are asked to do something. Being grown up is about loving.

Being grown up is not about you.

Question: What else does being grown up look like? 

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How Many Books Are You Reading?

Last night, as Mike and I were going to bed, I read to him from a book I had just started. It was a book on marriage. It was debunking traditional advice given to people who desire to have a better marriage. Then this morning I read to him something I had read about Nihilism. It interested me because it applied to a problem a friend of ours was struggling with.

He said to me, “I thought you were reading the book about marriage.”

“I am,” I responded, “but I’m also reading about Nihilism.”

Then he thought for a minute. “And weren’t you just talking to me about something you read from A Wrinkle in Time?”

“Yep. I’m reading that too.”

I counted them up and admitted that I was actually reading six books at the moment.

He laughed, because he had five books of his own going at that time.

Now, before you put me in the “egg-head” category I need to make it crystal clear that I’m not a part of the new intelligentsia—as if that’s exactly what you were thinking. I do love books, but primarily because I need lots of help with life.

Sadly, I can’t take St. John Chrysostom, C.S. Lewis or David McCullough to lunch and pick their brains. I can’t literally surround myself with all the people smarter than me, or people who have traveled down roads on which I’m traveling. But I can surround myself with their words. So, when I have a question, when I need help, when I need to see life from a different perspective, I pick up a book.

I don’t always finish books. Occasionally I do, but more often than not I don’t. And that’s just fine. Sometimes it’s like meeting someone, getting the help you need and moving on without having to know everything they say about everything. And let’s be honest, some books aren’t worth finishing.

But many are and I just keep them going until I’ve gotten what I need, I get bored, something else grabs my attention, or until I finish them and grieve over their departure.

As I’ve thought about the number of books I tend to have at my side at any given time, I discovered three reasons why I don’t stick to just one:

1. Books come in a variety of formats. Each format fits a particular situation.

Traditional bound books:
Perfect for morning reading. I usually have a ruler and a pen in my hand. I ask questions, jot down comments in the margins and have a conversation with the author while I enjoy my morning coffee.

Audio books:
Great for road trips and long walks.

Electronic books:
Best for air travel and waiting rooms.

2. Books address the diversity of life’s circumstances. Life comes at you fast, from all angles.

Stories, Fiction, History:
For when I need some comic relief or a new perspective on life.

Practical Living:
For when I need to tap into someone else’s life experience and get concrete help for life’s challenges.

Personal Growth:
For when I need inspiration and an encouraging word from travelers who are ahead of me on life’s road.

3. Our days play out in a variety of settings. The different settings present different opportunities for learning.

Morning Reading:
My mind is the most alert and the most “teachable” in the morning. Consequently, this is when I tend to read “heavier” material.

On-the-go Reading:
If I’m likely to be distracted or interrupted I’ll gravitate toward fiction or stories that don’t require me to have a pen and paper in hand.

Bedtime Reading:
Because I’m already sleepy, I need a book that I can read in snippets. I rarely finish a chapter at night so I want to read bite-sized portions that will give my mind something positive to meditate on while I sleep.

So, there you have it. Three reasons why I read several books at one time and why it’s OK for you, too.

QUESTION: What about you? How many books are you reading right now?

P.S. Here are the books I’m currently reading:

A Wrinkle In Time by Madeleine L’Engle (Audio Book)

A Million Miles in a Thousand Years by Donald Miller (Kindle)

The Seven Principles for Making Marriage Work by John M. Gottman (Paperback)

Nihilism, The Root of the Revolution of the Modern Age by Eugene (Fr. Seraphim) Rose (Paperback)

Giver of Life, The Holy Spirit in Orthodox Tradition by Fr. John Oliver (Paperback)

The Melody of Faith, Theology in an Orthodox Key by Vigen Guroian (Paperback)

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Do the Climb?—You’ve got to be kidding! (Follow-up to Do the Walk)

Sometimes we face enormous challenges. The climb is steep. The obstacles immense. We think we can’t continue. But that’s just when it begins to get interesting.

For example, last Sunday, I talked about Doing the WaIk. And that’s just what Mike and I have done almost every day since we’ve been in Colorado. But … I think we may have gotten a little over-confident.

We’ve loved hiking while here in the Rockies. So Tuesday we decided to do a climb. Not a climb as in rock-climbing, but a climb as in climbing up and over miles of rocks.

We had heard of two beautiful lakes on top of our mountain. The hike was only supposed to take an hour and half one way. We were up for it.

We started out on our beautiful forest trail.

We crossed over one bridge. (This is usually where our daily hikes have stopped—about 30 minutes up.) The little foot bridge would take us to places we’d never been before.

And soon crossed back over the stream on a second bridge.

The rushing water over the huge boulders was breathtaking.

Little did we know that our breaths would literally be taken away. We were at 9,200 feet and climbing. (I had an app on my iPhone that could tell me my current elevation.)

And climbing straight up. Away from the little path that we had come to know and love. Away from the companionship of our mountain stream. In fact, we couldn’t hear the sound of running water at all. We were now deep into the forest climbing a long, steep, dry, dusty, rocky staircase.

And up and up and up we climbed. Over more piles of loose rocks. This is when you are so grateful you invested in a pair of great hiking boots and hiking poles.

For probably an hour, the high altitude combined with the steep incline forced us to keep the following rhythm: Walk for 60 steps. Stop. Rest for 60 seconds. Go. Walk for 60 steps. Stop. Rest for 60 seconds. Go. Over and over. Our hearts were pounding right out of our chests. Our lungs felt like they were on fire. Our legs felt like they were lead weights.

We had to stop and sit down about every 15 minutes just so we wouldn’t fall over.

Never in my life had we attempted anything so exhausting. Our legs just didn’t want move.

We said things like this to each other: “We must have taken a wrong turn.” “This can’t be right.” ”Should we listen to our bodies?” They’re saying STOP.” “What if one of us breaks a leg? How could we haul each other out of here?” “What if we get stranded up here all night.”  On and on and on and on went our thoughts.

But on another level we KNEW it would be worth it. Our climb was supposed to take an hour and half. We had to be close. But, by the time we’d reached that limit, there was STILL no end to “up” in sight.

Thankfully, the dusty, rocky trail came to an end, and we heard the sound of running water again. Now we MUST be close..

We saw water. “Great, that must be coming straight off the lake!!”  We were so glad we didn’t bail.

We saw more water. Lots of beautiful water, tumbling and playing among huge, moss-covered boulders.

But still no end in sight. Only more “up.” And now, “up” with snow!? We had not prepared for snow. When we saw what looked like bear tracks in the snow we started to get scared all over again.

After two hours—well past the hour and a half prediction, we stopped to re-evaluate. The sun was going down behind the mountain top, and we were afraid our descent would be in the dark. Here we were, in the middle of nowhere, afraid and discouraged and didn’t know how much more our bodies could take. They were were screeming STOP.

We seriously contemplated turning around. I mean, we truly had accomplished more than we ever had before. We saw some gorgeous sites. We had no regrets.

But would we?

As we stood there, going back and forth in our minds, the thought came to us to call our friend Randy Elrod who had made this climb before. Thankfully my cell phone was able to connect to him—though spotty. We told him where we were and of our struggle. We told him we were completely exhausted, discouraged and even a little scared. As we described our surroundings, he said, “You’ve got to be so close.” “I just know it.”

He was able to find out the elevation of the Lakes. I told him my iPhone app showed we were at 10,224 feet. Randy said, “You’re only about 100 feet away. You’re SO close. ”

“But what about the sunset I said?” (It was about 5pm by this point.)

He assured us, “I’ve made that climb over 30 times!” And I’ve come down after 7:00pm before. You have nothing to worry about. You’ll have plenty of light. Go for it. You can do it. You won’t be sorry.”

So we did—with his voice ringing in our ears, “You can do it”—we squared our shoulders, grabbed our poles and climbed some more.

Within five minutes we saw the landmark we had been waiting for: The Colorado Trail sign.

Elevation 10,290.

We turned left and knew the lakes were only a few more steps away. (FYI, if we would have kept straight, we could have climbed one of Colorado’s 14-footers … NO THANKS.)

All of a sudden, within two more minutes, we got our first glimpse. We immediately recognized the patten of snow, cascading downward, as the mountain directly above our cabin. Surely we hadn’t climbed THAT far???

With each step we saw more and more.

Mike whipped out the camera (which felt like it weighed about 100 pounds by this time!) and began snapping away. We found new energy.

THIS is what we saw. Indescribable beauty. Up so high only the eagles saw it everyday.

The lake was FULL of trout.

It was a little tough to get a photo of the trout but there are two in this picture.

We happened to be there right at their feeding time (I think it’s called a hatch.) and the lake looked like a giant bowl of popcorn with fish popping up and down all over the place. That frenzy lasted all of about five minutes. As abruptly as it started, it stopped. Then the lake was as smooth as glass. If ONLY we had brought a fishing pole!

After soaking up as much as we possibly could, we headed back down the mountain for home.

Down. Out of the lush, snow patched woods. Back to the rocks.

Down that rocky staircase, once again. It was SO much easier going down. My heart and my lungs … and my heart, were very happy now.

Soon we were back to our familiar little foot bridge.

And back on our familiar little path.

One and a half hours later (four  and a half hours after we had started our climb) we were back to our familiar little cabin. (Shaved off one hour coming down. Yay!!)

Before going inside, I turned around and looked up. This is how far we had climbed? All that snow was heading down into the “bowl” where the lakes are located. We had been way up there. Glory be to God.

Was it worth it?

A resounding YESsirree!

As I lay on the couch, feet elevated, Ibuprofen now in my system, I had some time to ask myself what could I take away from this adventure. Like most things in life, if we pay close attention, we’ll see that God is always teaching us. Here are three things I learned from our climb:

1. Set your sights high.
Sometimes we determine to do something or go somewhere and have no idea what it will require of us. But sometimes what you don’t know can help you. I don’t think we’d ever have attempted that climb if we would have known how difficult it would be. But now, on the other side of it, I have NO regrets. I am full of gratitude that I could succeed at something that was so above my comfort level.

2. Call on someone who’s successfully met this challenge before.
When you feel lost in the woods and you feel scared and exhausted of all your resources—like you can’t go another step, call on someone who has walked this road before. That person can tell you if it truly is worth it. They can tell you how to navigate the rough spots. They’ve been there. They’ve done it. They can give you perspective. They can give you the encouragement you need to believe you can make it, and give you concrete steps to make it to the end.

3. Invest what you learn into the lives of others.
The confidence and wisdom you gain, from pushing through the resistance, are qualities that strengthen and mature you. It should be no surprise, then, when one day you get a phone call from a friend who is exhausted, scared and can’t take another step. You can be their “Randy” who’s been down that road before and can help them get to the other side.

So, now my admonishment to you is:

Do The Climb.

What is your Climb? You can do it. Don’t loose heart. It will be so worth it.

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Do The Walk

(All photos for this post were taken on my iPhone.)

Let’s admit it. When it comes to doing things that you know are good for you, you can act like a little child. There are those times when you just don’t want to. Inwardly you feel like a rebellious little brat who just refuses. “You can’t make me.” “You’re not the boss of me.”

Or you’re like a whiney, pouty little kid. “I don’t feel like it.” “I can’t.” “Just leave me alone.”

Or there are those times when you are too cool and too smart to do it. “That’s okay. You go ahead.” “I’m fine.” “I’ve already tried that.”

There’s a little kid inside of each of us. Keeping us from getting what we truly want.

I just got through reading Do The Work. In it Steven Pressfield gets us to acknowledge that in the pursuit of any personal goal or creative dream we WILL meet resistance. Resistance is what holds us back. It’s what firmly stands in our way to keep us from achieving what it is that we want. Pressfield lays out a great strategy for overcoming this “dragon” of resistance.

The force of resistance can apply to a lot more than just the pursuit of goals. In truth, it rears it’s ugly head whenever good is pursued. It often shows up in the form of that spoiled little child.

That child showed up big-time for me today. Even though I am in the beautiful Rocky Mountains enjoying my first ever sabbatical, I was in a funk. A grumpy mood. So when Mike said it was time to get out and go on our daily hike I procrastinated. I protested. I pleaded. I found myself face-to-face with that inner “dragon” of resistance.

Hiking sounded like too much worrrrrk. I’d rather sit on the couch and stay grumpy. That was much easier. I had lots of excuses why I could skip going outside today. Thankfully, with Mike’s gentle coaxing, I found that I could put on my boots, grab my poles, and get outside.

Within five minutes of walking the rewards started to come to me. By the time we got back home (an hour and ten minutes later), my mood had drastically changed and I felt more like my true self.

How did that happen? What are the rewards? Why is it crucial to get outside—in and among nature—and walk as often as possible?

I discovered three reasons:

1. You find yourself living in the present.

Because the terrain is unpredictable, you have to pay attention. Unlike walking on smooth concrete or asphalt, you have to watch your step. You have to be alert. There are dips and rises, rocks and branches, twists and turns. There’s not a lot of opportunity to get lost in your worries or your fears. You have to pay attention. You get to be fully present.

2. You find that all five of your senses are awakened.

Being fully present to what’s around you automatically awakens your senses. All of a sudden you are alert to new sights, new sounds, new smells, new touches, new tastes. You feel fully alive. (HT: Ken Davis for teaching me about living fully alive.)

To give you an example, this is what was I experienced today:

Touch: The first thing I felt was the wind.

Stepping outside, a strong gust of wind whipped across my face and through my hair. It even blew my hiking poles out of my hands before I could get a good grip on them. I had to pay attention.

Taste: In order to get to our path in the woods, we had to walk up a dusty dirt road.

This is a look down the dirt road. We walked up the road.

(Here’s a view looking down that road.)

With such strong winds the grit on the road was lifted up and swirled about every which way. It stung my face as it flew in my direction ending up in my mouth and my nostrils. “Humm. Dirt has a distinct taste. I’m tasting earth, mud, a little rockiness…” Pewwy.

Sight: Soon we were on the trail. Now I really had to be alert.

There were rises and falls. Twists and turns. Rocks and branches.

And wonderful surprises.

There were signs of spring and new life everywhere. (Those are baby Aspen leaves popping out.)

Smell: It took me several minutes before I realized that the wind could not find its way into the woods. Instead of my nostrils being full of dust,

they were overcome by the sweet aroma of pine needles, cottonwood trees and freshly sawn logs.

Hearing: What I love the most about this little tucked-away, foot-path in the forest of the Rocky Mountains, is the companionship of the stream.

The trail snakes back and forth tracing the journey of the freshly melting snow from up above. The stream stayed close by my side, talking and keeping me company the whole while.

The gurgling, bubbling, splashing, swishing sounds, coming from this stream, are all at once invigorating, soothing, comforting, and renewing. I could sit and listen to it all day—every day. I just might.

3. You find that you have gained a new perspective on whatever is on your mind.

I can’t believe I almost stayed on the couch in a grumpy mood. I was in a funk. I couldn’t “do” anything. I couldn’t find one ounce of creativity or thankfulness in me.

Until

I overcame the “dragon.”

Until

I got up and got out.

By the time I got home I was full of optimism. I was full of thankfulness. It was as if God had set up a treasure hunt for me. All I had to do was get out and get walking. Get looking.

I was full of creative ideas, dreams and hopes. My perspective had changed.

I had been transported from the vantage point of a single, isolated couch to the vantage point of wide open spaces, snow capped mountains, forests, lakes and streams.

All because I didn’t listen to that spoiled child. I did the walk.

I challenge you to get out and Do The Walk.

Find yourself

—> engaged in the present,

—> alert to all five of your senses and

—> seeing your life from a new perspective.

Get out, and

Do. The. Walk.

Question: Where can you walk or hike close to where you live? What treasures can you discover?

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No Time for Drama

One thing I’m loving about being with my family this week is the lack of DRAMA.

There has been no walking on egg shells. No whispers behind someone’s back. We’re just there, looking at our feet and being present, loving and appreciating each other. Laughing, crying, hugging (my personal favorite), cooking, eating, cleaning, debating, sparring, eating, expressing, listening, reminiscing, more eating (what is it with the eating?) and most of all seeking to understand. I love it.

It hasn’t always been this way, and thankfully over the years, and through lots of pain, we’ve chipped away at the superfluous and been left with the gems of each other.

I’d say, it’s also been intentional. Believe me, there has been plenty of drama in my family and it still creeps up every now and then. But now it seems that we’re all intent on growing and changing and allowing each other to grow and change. We don’t “freeze-frame” each other any more, binding each other to some less-than-desirable stage of our past.

Yesterday, as my brother Karl was packing up to go back to Denver, he commented that he was now my biggest brother. I’ve lost two of my brothers and someday maybe I’ll write on the loss of my second. There’s some drama there. But I’m not ready to yet.

Karl is the third brother and Loren is the fourth. What a gift it’s been for me to be the little sister in a family of boys. I’ve always had a big brother to protect me and help me fly straight. Seriously, how cool is that? Hopefully, I will always have a big brother in my life because, Lord knows, I need all the help I can get.

Coming together as a family, when experiencing the loss of someone you love dearly, strips away all of the superfluous like nothing else can. God gives us a unique opportunity to zero in on what really matters, what really counts, what really lasts. Family matters. Brothers matter.

There is no place for drama at a time like this. Or … at anytime, for that matter. Just a time to be real and to be loved.

Question:
How much drama do you have in your family? What can you do it send it packing?