1halffull's Blog

When you read this, you may wonder:  Is this what her previous emancipation proclamation was all about?  The answer is yes and no.

For me, humor is always appropriate, so yes.  Did I need to emancipate myself for this?  No.

I received the following from a friend.  I loved it so much I wanted to reprint it – thanks to whoever originated it.  I’m betting they look something like me physically.  Bless them.

I loved this and wanted to add some thoughts of my own:

1.  Would it be faster to order a tanker truck of Dawn and just jump in?

2.  If I use starch on my face, would that eradicate the wrinkles?  (for those of you who have no idea what ‘starch’ is or what it was used for, look it up!)

3.  Could I use suspenders to hold up my sagging belly or any other parts south of my neck?

4.  If Oxi-Clean removes the worst stains, could it remove the liver spots that keep appearing on my arms?

5.  What about bleach?  It can remove color from my hair, so can it remove the dark circles under my eyes?  (DON’T TRY THIS AT HOME!)

6.  Or should one think of pouring peroxide on the dark spots then go stand in the sun to see if they’ll lighten up?

7.  I’ve read that tomatoes are a good food to eat to help prevent cancer.  If I rub tomatoes on my skin, will they prevent skin cancer?

8.  Do you get milky white skin by sitting in a tub of whole milk?

9.  You use warm wax or sticky, warm honey to tear hair out of your legs.  Can you use the same stuff to exfoliate your face?  OUCH!

10.  Can you use self-tanning products to create temporary tattoos?  (Go ahead and try this at home.  Send me photos of your results.)

Well, it’s a lean day, mentally.  So I’ll stop now.  Feel free to add your own ideas in the comments section!  I’ll be watching.

Isn’t writing supposed to be freeing?  You’re supposed to get to express yourself – openly, honestly – write what’s on your mind.

So why do I not find it so?  I have a few items I’d like to be writing about but have to think about those who will read it, how they will feel, what they will think.  Surely some subjects will be followed directly by requests that I remove the piece so as not ‘to hurt’ someone or other.

But what if they need to be hurt?  What if what I’m going to say is the truth in plain sight and it is actually more detrimental for them NOT to read it?  What if not saying it ends life as they know it?  Or could have effected a change in someone that would affect the rest of their lives?  Should I have kept silent then?

I’m sick and tired of being expected to keep quiet because of some hidden agenda of another person!  Especially when that person only wants to control a situation to keep others in the dark about what’s really going on.

You’ve really gotta love Glinda.

People only have as much power over you as you give them.  For many of us, how we feel about that goes back to how we were raised.  If in an atmosphere of ‘just wait till your father gets home’, probably we’ll carry on thinking people, especially men, have a right to ‘punish’ us….at least verbally.

If we’ve been created in the image of guilt, then we most often will become people pleasers who don’t want to rock the boat.  Failure to do what we think is ‘expected’ finds us internally reckoning that we will be banished.

We’ve learned that doing what’s expected is just easier than challenging authority. It’s hard to change these attitudes, to adjust the record playing in my head.

The only answer is to embrace our own adult ‘power’.  We can’t allow others to intimidate us into doing the ‘expected’, especially when to do so goes against our own beliefs and values.  As adults, we must learn how to dare to challenge the ‘what’s expected’ without being intimidated.

I find the fear of intimidation to be very  limiting…and often, very frustrating.

So, this is your fair warning:

This space is mine, to write anything that I wish to write, to be read by anyone who dares to open up this blog and read it.  I accord you the ability to comment as you wish – even disagree with what I have to say - and ultimately, to not ever come back to read another word.  Those are your choices.

But understand this:  From this point forward, I will not be intimidated to remove or not write what’s on my mind by anyone.  And if you think I should, just remember this:  You have no power here!

Yesterday, Sunday, May 15th, was one of those unforgettable days, one that you add to your list of ‘best’ days.

We started our morning at 4:30 a.m. – no we’re not the birds trying to catch the first worm – we’re parents who were going to ‘fan’ for our son, Mike, who was running his first (and only, most likely) Cleveland Marathon.  We were also hoping to see our daughter-in-law, her brother and a friend of ours as they ran through the half-marathon. 

We caught up with Mike just past the four mile marker and many other markers along the way.  He was able to keep his pace and finished at four hours and 44 minutes!  Dan and I both agreed we’d have been finished pretty much after the third mile.  Period!  The half-marathoners also did very well and everyone was happy with the results.  

The Marathon was the last qualification that Mike had to achieve before graduating summa cum laude from Marshall Law College at Cleveland State University.  (Just kidding)

Once he crossed the finish line, it was home for a fast shower and redress then on to the graduation ceremony!  He’s worked so incredibly hard over these last three years – studying, participating in Moot Court, working on the Law Review, being a teaching assistant, working at the Public Defender’s office and a number of other activities that gave him a rich, law school experience.  The honors he received were well deserved. 

We were bursting with love, pride and happiness as we watched him receive his Juris Doctorate!  His accomplishment is awesome! 

Congratulations, Mike! We wish you the best life has to offer. 

It’s good to know we’ve got someone to bail us out now! Let the mayhem begin!  LOL

People who live in glass houses shouldn’t throw stones.

Pretty much, we’ve all heard that statement, yet we refuse to believe it.  It occurs to me to wonder why?  My answer is because we have no idea that we, too, are in danger of our own houses turning to glass.

We have the potentially false idea that the house we’re in, that we think is fully made of stainless steel, lined with lead, impervious to all attacks, will always be so.  Because of this, we may gain a false sense of pride and a certain belief in the indestructability of this house, a protection that is foolish to claim.

This false sense of security can make us do and say things to others that we may one day be faced with ourselves. 

For example, I knew a preacher who stood in front of his congregation and berated the parents of children he knew were having difficulties – mix ups with the law, drugs, and more.  He told them that it was their own (the parents) fault for not raising the kids the right way.  In a breath, he took a lot of hurting people and crushed them even further into the dirt.  They were already saddened and riddled with guilt, they didn’t need his further indictment.  He clearly felt safe in his stainless steel, lead lined house from where he cast boulders upon ‘his’ people.

About a month later, that same minister stood in his own pulpit, crying, confessing that one of his own children had, indeed, become a statistic.  In a breath, he had been brought as low as those he’d previously indicted for their lack of good parenting.  In a breath, his comfortable perch within the stainless steel, lead clad home became as fragile as glass.  Kindly, no one threw stones. 

There are many other similar stories.  You probably know some or even are some yourselves.

Those who think that the defiant, rule breaking acts of children, or adults who were once children, are simple reflections on the parenting skills of their parents need to have another look.

If that is true, then please explain the children who have lived in abusive (of any kind) delinquent families yet grow up to be loving, caring, giving citizens.  If the hypothesis is that good parents = good children/adults, then shouldn’t it stand to reason that bad parents can only = bad children/adults?

Nurture is not always to ‘blame’.  Nature often plays at least an equal part.

For those of you who haven’t figured it out yet, every person ever born has been born with their very own personality, character, and even a particular leaning and ability to adapt or not.  Some are born more easily influenced; others can’t be influenced if dragged over hot coals to get there.  Some will readily color within the lines; others couldn’t color within the lines if their lives depended on it. 

Every person is individually born exactly as he or she Is. 

Can you blame a parent for that?  I guess you can blame them if you believe they controlled the choice of which little sperm managed to beat all the rest to fertilize the waiting egg.  Even in invitro fertilization, there is not that fine tune control!

I won’t debate that the optimum in child-rearing is that parents will love their children enough to try to raise them to become reasonably sound citizens without causing too much harm to their over all well-being and creativity.  Even with that, life happens:  jobs are lost, considered choices are made that go awry; parents die; life gets hard and sometimes every family member suffers.  Those who are born to adapt, do; those who aren’t may fumble, but hopefully will ultimately land on their feet.

But I also can’t debate that there are some of us whose drummers beat more loudly and off the traditional beat, preventing us from taking the simpler, parent-directed path to becoming reasonable adults.  Some children can only get there the hard way, whatever that is for them.  I’m one of those.

So, next time you want to jump in and judge some parent for what their kid is doing, just STOP!  Both the parent and the child need your kindness, not your judgement. 

AND REMEMBER THIS:  You haven’t lived your whole life yet.  You have no idea when you just might find your perfect, stainless steel, lead lined house turning to glass.

Today is the day in between.

Yesterday, about 3 p.m., amidst a huge storm, surrounded by an earthquake, townspeople - those who came to ridicule, those who came to weep, those who watched in laughter, those who watched the scene, their guts clenched in revulsion at the terrible site - saw Jesus die on the cross.

Few of the disciples had any idea what was really going on here; all had fallen from their faith over the last 24 hours.  As for the other, more detached onlookers, they had just witnessed the end of one who had been accused by the Chief Priests and elders of blasphemous behaviors of all sorts. 

He was not a criminal of the usual kind, but one that leadership had managed to stir the crowd into a roiling boil over, a crowd that demanded his life in place of a convicted murderer who himself recognized this man was guiltless.

When he finally breathed his last and died, he was taken down from the cross, wrapped in a clean linen sheet and placed in a tomb belonging to Joseph of Arimathaea.  For all anyone knew, he was gone, leaving those 11 men (for Judas had already gone from their midst) whom he’d befriended, alone and bereft.

The men felt ashamed of the way they’d let him down.  They were full of fear about their future.  Would the Chief Priests hunt them down and bring them to the same end as Jesus?  What would their lives become now? 

The 11 fled the scene, ending up in a room together where they locked themselves inside, waiting they knew not what.  The night was fitful; few slept; every noise seemed like a threat to their very lives.

The dawning of the the day in between was unwelcome.  The master was no longer with them.  There was no business to be about, no people to feed, no healing to be done.  They could not listen to him as he taught the masses and shamefully, in this moment, they couldn’t recall what he’d even said.

They appeared to have forgotten everything Jesus had told them.  Seemingly they had no hope.  The day wore on and on.

Throughout the persecution and trial of Christ, they had hovered round the edges of each scene, not wanting to be noticed or remembered as one of his followers.  Even Peter, who had the strongest faith in his master, denied Jesus three times before all was said and done.  Now, without Jesus’ strength, they all cowered in fear.

There was no comforter, no peace.  Just sorrow.

Huddled together, they repeatedly asked themselves what would become of them.  Every sound must have jolted them to attention, frightened that they would be next to face the cross.  They dared not leave lest they be discovered and carried away.  Hiding out in that room together was the only solace they had; and yet there was no real strength in those numbers.  Their strength had gone.

The day in between was the worst day they could ever imagine.  It finally came to an end and they plunged yet again into fitful, wakeful uneasy sleep, not knowing what tomorrow would bring.

If they’d only remembered and believed what Jesus said was coming…. 

I was just reading an article about country singer Vince Gill and his Christian singing counterpart, Amy Grant, who is now 50.  In the article, she mentions having a meltdown in the bathtub, as she looks at her post-four baby belly, about getting older.  She says “Women get invisible.”

‘Get invisible?’ I think.  Now this is something I can relate to.  However, being invisible started way before I ever hit 50!  I’ve been invisible for most of my life.

I started being invisible back when I was a child.  My homelife wasn’t exactly what you’d call “Ozzie and Harriet” style.  It was more like “Married With Children” gone over a cliff.  In this setting, you became invisible to stay out of the way, to not be noticed; you didn’t want to be seen. 

I had not idea that lifestyle would have on me.  Later in life I realized that I’d apparently learned how to be invisibile so well, that now other people couldn’t see me either.  I found that when  I was introduced to someone, I always had to be reintroduced to them each time we met because they never remembered having met me. 

To these people, each time I met them it was a new encounter.  I felt like they were the stars of  the movie ’50 First Dates’.  They had no idea who I was or that they’d ever met me before that moment. 

Here’s what I’m talking about.

Not long after starting to work for a foundation, I was introduced to one of our board members.  We had a nice interaction.  A few weeks later, I encountered her again.  She had no idea who I was and I had to be reintroduced.  Without exaggeration, I tell you that this same thing happened at least a dozen times over a of couple years. 

Finally one morning at a breakfast meeting she came up to me and introduced herself, saying she didn’t think we’d met.  It was the last straw.  I was tired of being invisible.  I told her that yes, we had met on numerous occasions.  Smiling, I pronounced my name very distinctly, shook her hand, took my seat and proceeded through the meeting.  The woman never had to be reintroduced to me again.

The more that happens, the more convinced you become of your invisibility.  I am a believer!

When my son was about eight, he and his seven year old cousin made a decision to become  Mad Scientists when they grew up!  They thought it would be great fun. 

We talked about what they might invent.  One of my suggestions was a ‘Cloaking Device’, much like what was used in the Star Wars films to make space ships invisible.  How fun that would be!  This device would allow us to slip in and out of places without anyone knowing we were there.  We’d use it for things like  jumping to the front of the line at the amusement park; to conceal our cars so we could go very fast and not get caught; take cookies and other treats just before supper.

Being already invisible, I didn’t really need a cloaking device; a good thing since my son and his cousin didn’t become mad scientists – or at least not yet.

I’ve told my husband many times about my invisibility.  He never believed me until one day, while visiting a local home store, the seeing eye of the automatic doors didn’t ‘see’ me and refused to open.  I approached and reapproached.  The ‘eye’ still didn’t open the doors.  Finally, Dan came up behind me; they ‘saw’ him and the doors opened.  I reminded him, yet again of my invisibility, which of course, he denied.

However, he is now truly convinced of my power to be invisible.  The big topper came this last week. 

I’ve been working at remodeling our downstairs hallway.  You need a lot of light and some old clothes – I’m pretty messy when I do this kind of work – to do this remodeling. 

I was standing on a chair, in bright light, in full view, with my back to the stairway.  I heard him come down the stairs behind me, saw him walk down the hallway into the kitchen.  Then I heard him say:  ‘Where are you?’

‘Where am I?’ I queried, disbelievingly, as he walked back into the hallway, stunned to see me standing in plain sight where he’d just walked past me. 

Don’t tell me I’m not invisible!  When the person I’m closest to on the planet can’t even see me – and believe me, I’m not that small – I have proof positivie that, yes, I truly am invisible.

Praise You In The Storm – Casting Crowns - a musical tribute to praising God.

It’s been a very tough first quarter of the year both across the world and in my personal life. 

The various international outbreaks in Egypt, Libya and more; the terrible earthquake, aftershocks and sunami in Japan; the subsequent near meltdowns of the nuclear power plants in Japan; the continuing famine and lack of clean water in many third world nations; the mudslides and floods in Australia and here in the U.S.; the prolonged winter season across the plains and the mid-West.  Terrible times by anyone’s standards.

Here at home, the layoff from my job added to the same for a number of friends along with loss of church affiliation have been sources of grief and loss that have been following me, personally, since mid-February.

In spite of it all, I find that I am not defeated, not without hope.

Yesterday a line from a song really hit me.  It was this:  How can my praises ever find end? 

BOOM! as my son would say. 

The question seemed so right, so true.  In the midst of it all, I recognize that God is still on His throne.  Even though everything appears to be going haywire, He is still in control.  Regardless of what the world would have us think, God is still worthy of endless praise! 

In this uncertain time, all humans need a mustard seed of faith, a measure of trust, and the flicker of hope that God will bring us through what appears to be a very dark, very deep valley.  That valley is spoken of in the 23rd Psalm.  It is a valley that anyone who is upright and breathing has either already visited or will, at some future point, visit.  In fact, most of us will visit that valley many times over during our life time.

The 23rd Psalm says:  “Even though I walk through a valley dark as death, I fear no evil, for You are with me, your staff and your rod are my comfort.”

For me, the key word here is ‘through’.  It’s a promise of hope; a promise that God will not leave us in this valley that is dark as death.  He will bring us through this place to the other side to begin our climb to the mountaintop experience.  It is here that we will be able to look back and see how our experiences have worked together for our own growth and for His praise.  It is here that we will find a way to continue to praise Him.

Through these experiences, good and not so good, our praises may never find an end.  Giving thanks during the difficult times is just as necessary and maybe even a greater blessing to the Lord,  as giving thanks during the good times in our lives. 

Praising God during the difficult times is an act of trust and hope on our part.  It is the time when we can figuratively climb into the lap of our Heavenly Father and receive His comfort and loving care.  It’s a time when He will carry us if we will just trust Him to do so.  In return, we find that He fills our hearts with thanksgiving and praise that pours from our very being in words, songs, and deeds. 

He can provide a time of total renewal in the midst of any disaster, physical, emotional, spiritual.  It is up to us to seek Him out.  Jeremiah 29:12-14 says:  “If you invoke me and pray to me, I will listen to you:  when you seek me you shall find me; if you search with all your heart, I will let you find me, says the Lord.”  What a promise!

And what a wonderful reason for never finding an end to praising Him!

Well, it’s been seven weeks since I was laid off, tossed on the heap like so much garbage.  That’s pretty much how one feels deep inside if you give yourself a moment to stop telling everyone ‘it’s okay, I’m fine’ which we try not to do.

I mean, really, I am fine.  I still wake up breathing in the morning.  There’s still a roof over my head, food on my table, even a song in my heart that has pretty much nothing to do with the job status, other than I’m not feeling the stress of it anymore.

What I mean is this:  for a moment there, I couldn’t figure out why I’m not running after jobs like one might think I would.  I need to work, that’s for sure.  It’s too many years between today and the day I can file for retirement – if that day even comes.  But, as a young volunteer once said to me, ‘I’m not feelin’ it.’

Why am I not feelin’ it, I asked myself? 

Here’s why….

In the past, when I wanted to leave a job, I did everything I could to find another job so I could kiss the old one goodbye.  But that was my choice so I acted on it with diligence to give myself what I wanted.

This time it wasn’t my choice. 

This was a job I really liked.  I loved working with the volunteers.  I didn’t love all the politics within the company so I didn’t play politics, I played me.  Combine the fact that didn’t work for them with the fact of my age and – BOOM – I found myself lying on the steps, face down, with my stuff all around me.  OUCH!  That hurt.

When you’re stripped of something you love, you become disoriented.  Somehow you think, ‘I should be going there to work, that’s where I belong’.  Yet each day, you get up and know that if you did go back there, they’d probably just have security come get you and – BOOM – you’d be back, face down on the steps. 

When you’ve been forced from a job you loved, you almost don’t know how to start looking for the next job. 

You don’t even want to look for the next job! 

You want the job you had!  But you can’t have it so you’re supposed to go find another job. 

How do you do that when you can’t even begin to see yourself someplace else?  

How do you seriously go after something you can’t envision? 

For me, it’s like trying to capture a wave in the ocean….

I’m sorry to tell you but if you were looking for a big exciting time in my unemployment section of the blog, it’s just not happening!  Week four was pretty uneventful other than they finally decided that yes, I could have a weekly stipend to help me pay bills.  Compared to getting that determination, week five was pretty boring.

I’ve applied for jobs that I thought I might qualify for, but apparently I don’t because no one has called me.  Not exactly crying over that….yet.

Don’t get me wrong:  while all this is most boring for you, daily life for me is not at all boring.  My daily routine is less than humdrum as I clean out desk and chest drawers, finding all kinds of treasures – and a lot of junk that gets thrown out which pleases me no end!  I actually get to talk with friends throughout the day and email whoever I want without getting reprimanded for using the computer.  I’ve gone to lunch and dinner with friends and volunteers; celebrated some freedom with those who also usually don’t get out regularly and emptied the dishwasher when it was done washing instead of just in time to put more dishes inside.

Freedom to pursue what we actually want to pursue is highly underrated!

The time change was another thing that I actually enjoyed because I was under no constraint to follow its whim.  It’s the first time I didn’t feel the effects of that lost hour.  It’s nice not to have to get up when it’s still dark to go to work.  When I awake, it’s daylight and I enjoy getting out of bed to see it!

I can also take a nap if I want to (I’ve only done that twice), have dinner when it’s actually dinner time and stay up late knowing I won’t have to deal with the consequences because I can stay in bed longer if I need to.

The most lovely part is being able to enjoy the sunshine and blue skies, check out our flower beds to see what’s poking its head out after the long, long winter’s nap, and go for walks when it’s not too cold.  I’ve been reading books, re-reading the New Testament, making hopeful plans for several trips and anticipating our son’s graduation from law school in May.

Then there’s today:  while it still feels like winter outside with temperatures hovering around freezing, can the feel of spring be far behind?  I just witnessed our first lawn application by the company who comes monthly to care for our grass!   

Soon, there will be tender green shoots just daring my husband to start his mower for the first cutting of the season.  Is there anything better than that? 

Once he’s done, if things slow down, I just may go sit outside and watch it all grow back….a luxury of leisure I haven’t had in a very long time.

Well, I’m starting week three tomorrow of my extended vacation.  So far, it’s been really busy and pretty fun.

Yesterday, I filed my weekly claim with the OJI.  Pretty uneventful; so far no $$ has come my way, but since I got my vacation pay out check, I’m still solvent – a good thing.

Some people say – gee you must be bored!  I say ‘are you kidding me?’  Everyday has been full.  It gets to be dinner time and I wonder where the time went. 

I’ve been working on computer projects for Dan and several of my own; I’ve almost finished editing last year’s book so the publisher can have it back and it can become fully published – and available on Amazon.com.  I started reading a new book by Max Lucado and doing a daily Bible study in the Old Testament. 

I’ve also gone out to lunches and a dinner with some friends from the old place, two dinners with ’regular’ friends, and a birthday celebration for our daughter-in-law along with our son and her folks.  Then there’s catching up by phone with some out of town friends topped off with Facebook, my three email addresses and Bejeweled Blitz to stay in the top five. 

Remember, I said it’s an extended vacation so that means fun.

Oh, yes, I am keeping up with the job market, sending out those resumes and posting myself on one job site after another.  That part is harder.  I never know what to say in cover letters.  After awhile, I get a bit smart alecky.  I mean, who knows what it is they want to hear?  Hey, I bet you look great today – call me for an interview so I can see for myself? 

I mean really – why can’t the resume speak for me?  Once you read that, there’s very little left to comment on.

So, that’s about it from here.  What’s going on at your house?