Wendy Paine Miller: hope

Showing posts with label hope. Show all posts

Monday, February 25, 2019

A Letter for D

Hey there D,

Been listening to this song lately and thinking of you. I know you’ve had a rough go of it lately. I remember the stage of life you’re in. Feeling everything with such intensity. Such raw emotion. Memories of friends making the conscious decision to turn away still burrow deep.

But there are a few things I want to remind you of . . . your worth is innate. Intrinsic. The world is blind. Fickle. Many will love you one minute only to forget you the next. They’ll dare you to cower. To hide. To shut off and shut down. {Because they’re afraid of your light.}

Do so. For a while if you have to. But then . . . then we need you to do the exact opposite. See, because this world needs your love. The world needs people like you. A thoughtful soul. Your light is important here. It pierces through the phony and the shallow. It radiates kindness.

When you’re ready, step out from the shadows. Survive. Endure. Search for love. Abide in hope.

The Lord make his face shine on you and be gracious to you. Numbers 6:25

Monday, October 29, 2018

Going the Way of Climbing Bougainvillea

I’m worn thin. Bone dry. Hollowed out. Aching for our world. And I’m a mother of teenagers.

Every day I’m challenged to shift my way of thinking, to wind my thoughts around all that takes me toward the light. All that heals. Replenishes. And stretches me toward the hopeful.

Because moment by moment, I brush up against the broken and the brittle. We’re all so frayed and broken. Wilted. Withered. More than ever it seems the perverse is omnipresent. In my face. In your face. Glaring.

I take a deep breath, then another, and climb for the nourishing truth, sturdy-petals of promise, rising higher.

Like the bougainvillea, I need to train my focus and my thoughts, or else they’ll end up a drooping blob dusting the dirt. Second by second, I remind myself to attach to things worthy of my time.

Most days I want to hide my petals. I want to collapse to the ground in exhaustion, or raging protest, disenchanted and discouraged. I’d be lying if I said the way up were the easy path. But light is light. The sun draws me heavenward with its invisible strands of goodness. I go because there is no better alternative. On my way up I entwine with other flowers on the vine. Comforted in these times of chaos that we are—all of us—more alike than we are different.

I refuse to relinquish hope. I grow and push toward the light for this very reason. Because even in my brokenness and during my most inadequate seasons, I am not alone in this. The hard ascension. The light can be trusted above all else.

*Happy Birthday to my sister, Holly!

Monday, June 18, 2018

Fighting Dispiritedness

We’ve begun the initial stages of settling in to our new home. Painting. Arranging furniture. Recycling boxes. While I feel incredibly peaceful in this house, the weight of the world feels heavy lately. I’m disgusted and dispirited by irresponsible and heartbreaking politics, callous impulsivity, and a real lack of empathy and understanding in our culture. Often when I encounter this type of reaction I retreat. I shrink inside myself, tempting to block out the world—to insulate as a form of protection.

However, in time I’ve learned there are better ways for me to rise above moments of deep disappointment with the world we live in.

Eight Ways I Fight Dispiritedness

Initiate Meaningful Conversation

Not everyone agrees with me. Some may think the world is just fine as it is, some may even say it’s improving. Those are the folks I try to initiate conversations with. I don’t go in with a Debbie Downer approach, but I do believe the most successful road toward change is establishing a broad understanding of the path we’re on, this includes the people we’re walking beside. I have learned to have healthy, robust exchanges. We can disagree, that’s fine. But I crave for people to think. What gets me down more than anything is when people blindly back someone or a decision without garnering understanding first.

Get Outside

I know my triggers and when the world presses in with great intensity and I find myself unshakably sad, the outdoors calls. It’s restorative for me. I’m exceedingly grateful we moved to a place with a calming view and nearby outdoor playgrounds for me—the mountains, the beach, etc.

Seek to Understand

My husband often says, “But the world has always been a mess.” True. But as someone living here and now, I’m driven to understand what it is about our culture that’s pervasively destructive. What’s destroying us? I step back and take time to figure out specifically what it is that’s angering me so much, then I try really hard to dissect the situation, viewing it from unique perspectives.

Speak Up

As I feel led, I’ll reach out to those in a position of power, those who could incite change. I’ll become more vocal. I’ll root around for my voice, then use it.

Write

It’s what I do. For over twenty years the best way for me to sort through anything has been to get it down on paper. It’s freeing somehow.

Check in with My Kids

I have a major responsibility and I don’t take it lightly. I’m raising a new generation of thinkers. Of voters. Of doers. Of changers. I dialogue with my kids and share with them, as appropriate, the things that rattle me about this current climate. I’m curious, does it rattle them? Will she be the one to put an end to this or to create radical change?

I Laugh

It’s so basic, but it’s medicinal for me. Truly. It changes how my brain works. My youngest showed me this video not long ago of a little girl who’s renamed ice cream. I crack up every time I watch. I think it’s healing me somehow—laughter and this video. Maybe it’s the innocence of it all.

Hold Strong to Hope

I don’t always feel my faith. I wrestle more than I care to admit. But neither of those confessed truths alter the reality of hope. It exists. It’s steadfast. And trustworthy whether I cling to it or not. We have a God so billowing with love he won’t ever quit on us even as we destroy all he’s given us.

It can get rough out there, people. I strongly encourage you to figure out what will help you combat the dispiritedness. Because you’re necessary here. We need you. Change awaits.

Monday, January 22, 2018

A Note about Raising Girls

We celebrate three birthdays within eight days in the second half of January. I love raising girls. I consider it one of the greatest joys and one of the greatest callings of my life. There are days I’m convinced I’m blowing it entirely, then there are other days when I get glimpses of my girls growing into thoughtful and bright young women. Hope yet.

There are days of endless laundry and talking them down and building them up. There are days of exhaustion and feeling like nothing I do is making one lick of difference. One of my daughters is set on becoming President. I tell her to hurry up because this country needs her. I cried hard after the election and I’m still not at peace about who our country’s current leader is. Hope yet. The #MeToo movement is strong. Women are marching and my daughters are getting older.

I pray my messages are getting through to my girls—lessons like be brave, stand up for what you believe, kindness matters, think before you speak, your worth is and never will be in what others think of you, your life matters…

More than that, I pray I’m modeling all of the above for them. Because that’s the best way to transfer a message.

So I push through the dark days. I fight through the monotony. I refuse to give up if something matters to me. I forgive. I love. I support other women.

Hope yet.

{The birthdays wiped me out...I will be back here blogging on Feb. 5th.}

Monday, February 22, 2016

The Case of the Come Around Fox

I was having a day when I really felt like the mom of teenagers yesterday. Which led me to wake up with a strong desire for some inspiration—a refreshed start.

After getting my two older daughters off to school, and in the process of preparing my youngest for the bus, I thought to myself—well, actually it was more like I prayer…I prayed that today I’d spy the fox. You see, there’s this mystical, playful red fox that likes to visit our backyard about three or four times a year. And whenever I see it I’m awed. I’d call that fox my muse, but I almost feel it goes beyond writing. Whenever that fox comes around, my entire creative being is put at peace while simultaneously lit with a rejuvenated fire. I’d seen the fox recently so I sort of laughed off my request, feeling silly. And needy. For something that wouldn’t make a whole lot of sense to anyone else. But that’s just it. That fox conjures some sort of mysterious wonder in me.

People ask me sometimes why I believe in God. I’ve experienced countless instances in my life when God has revealed his authenticity to me. Add this morning to that list. I ask, in a tired whisper, for one fox.

And I get two.

I joyfully watched these two frolic and scout the yard with my youngest for fifteen minutes. And like that, my day was infused with a brightened hope.

Wednesday, September 24, 2014

Facing the Inevitable Hard Decision

There are times in life when we all have to make difficult decisions. They can feel like someone cracking open our chest with a crowbar or these moments can feel more subtle, like scratching off a scab.

No matter how it feels, I happen to believe it matters how we take on times of decision.

Here are a few things that I’ve gleaned from going through challenging times of resolution. . .

Confront the Situation Honestly

No use pretending conflict away. It’s not going anywhere. In fact, hear that? It’s your conscience knocking, telling you it’s time. I know it’s tempting to blow something off when you don’t want to deal with it. Or to sugarcoat and twist it to be something more innocuous than it really is. Take off the rose-colored glasses and face it for the ugly green monster it is.

Recognize Patterns

Pattern behavior can serve as a wonderful guide when you’re wondering whether or not you think someone will change. Can people change? I absolutely believe they can, but I also believe if they’re demonstrating similar behavior repeatedly, it’s time to pay attention. Which leads me to. . .

Be Realistic about Expectations

It’s helpful to take a good hard look at your role in the situation. Are you the one who needs to make some adjustments? Have you done anything to make the decision more challenging than it has to be? Let your emotions take over? Lacked empathy? Demonstrated apathy? It’s important to have realistic expectations of how things will play out after your decision is imparted.

Consult Trusted Mentors & Friends

It’s wise to receive valuable insight from people who’ve made smart choices in the past. Reach out. You might be surprised by what you learn. It also provides comfort and accountability, so you can be reminded that you’re not alone.

Take Care of Yourself in the Process

Stress can wreak havoc on the body. Think Space Invaders on your healthy cells. Be mindful of this. Get plenty of rest. Take walks. Breathe. I still appreciate the scene in My Best Friend’s Wedding when Julia Roberts is on the floor of the hotel, crushed, and the concierge bends down and tells her, “This too shall pass.” It’s a great thing to say to yourself during times like these.

Maintain Integrity

Because emotions are generally inflamed when you endure trials, it would be easy to whip up some pies like those found in the pages of The Help. Yep, you know what I’m referring to. But don’t. Don’t go pooping in your pies. Keep focused. Remember who you want to be in times like this. Cling to character and class no matter how hurt you feel. It’ll speak volumes.

Hope in the Future

Life’s pretty cool in that it keeps on going. You don’t enter a comatose state once you’ve followed through with your decision. You go on. Life goes on. So Obladi. Oblada . . . make it count.

Ever have to make a hard decision? What helped you in the process?

Tuesday, June 25, 2013

Inside the 11th Hour

It consumes your thoughts. I know, you don’t want to admit it. Most of the time, neither do I because it’s

something trivial or fleeting or an idol I’ve created out of something that won’t last.

I won’t judge.

Because hear this loud and clear, I sure as heck don’t want your judgment spotlighted on me.

Stepping into this risk, I’m going to reveal what’s crept into just about every single one of my thoughts lately. Pervasive as dewy skin humidity.

I’ve been wondering about the 11^th hour. I’ve been giving too much credit to time. Time as we understand it.

Let me explain.

I’m not talking about Meg Ryan weeping on Billy Crystal’s shoulder, “I’m gonna be forty.” I am talking about this subconscious time table I have, regulating some sort of order of events in my brain. Picture a factory of clocks if you will. A factory creating a false sense of soundness and inaccurate logic.

Examples:

I hope to be published by…

I want my girls to learn this by…

I’m eager for my marriage to look like this by…

I will finally learn this by…

While you could easily call these expectations or goals (I’m a strong believer in goal-setting), I’m going to suggest they’re also linked to fruit. When you pour time and energy into something the typical consequence is that you experience evidence of time and energy invested.

Here’s the catch. The time catch.

Time is limited. Unpredictable. And sometimes time squashes fruit. Or it rots it, making those hopes and wants seem futile, if not ridiculous.

So we’re on the same page, I’m not merely referring to the seconds and days we’re granted here on earth, but the entire concept as a whole. Dreams can’t be crammed inside time. Or lessons. Or hope.

It is these thoughts that ground me when I begin to get desperate and worried things won’t come through for me in the 11^th hour. There’s still a window, I tell myself. There’s still hope. What if life is one gigantic 11^th hour? What if my faith is finding ways to come through for me all the time?

What I really want to know is when I began to let it slide—hope? When did I give time the keys to my cerebral car, hijacking hope in the process? At what point did I shove trust into a box, ordering it to stay there until I tell it to come out?

This is probably why I love reading books that bust free from the conventional ways we understand time…The Time Traveler’s Wife. Mrs. Peregrine’s Home for Peculiar Children, and why I’m looking forward to reading The Repeat Year by Andrea Lochin. Also why I’m tempted to make a Benjamin Button joke at least once a week. Marty McFly, anyone?

Here’s the thing, I’m taking back the keys. I’m going to embrace the wild idea that the 11^th hour is a limitless playground of becoming and elongated saves.

Have you ever given time too much credit in your life concerning a particular situation? Could we all be living in the 11^th hour?

photo by stock.XCHNG

“When you love someone, you do not love them all the time, in exactly the same way, from moment to moment. It is an impossibility. It is even a lie to pretend to. And yet this is exactly what most of us demand. We have so little faith in the ebb and flow of life, of love, of relationships. We leap at the flow of the tide and resist in terror its ebb. We are afraid it will never return. We insist on permanency, on duration, on continuity; when the only continuity possible, in life as in love, is in growth, in fluidity - in freedom, in the sense that the dancers are free, barely touching as they pass, but partners in the same pattern.

The only real security is not in owning or possessing, not in demanding or expecting, not in hoping, even. Security in a relationship lies neither in looking back to what was in nostalgia, nor forward to what it might be in dread or anticipation, but living in the present relationship and accepting it as it is now. Relationships must be like islands, one must accept them for what they are here and now, within their limits - islands, surrounded and interrupted by the sea, and continually visited and abandoned by the tides.”

-Anne Morrow Lindbergh, Gift from the Sea

Tuesday, April 16, 2013

Lessons of Survival Part 2

I gleaned so much from reading Surviving Survival: The Art and Science of Resilience I wanted to share

more of what I learned with you.

Throughout Surviving, Laurence Gonzales asserts the importance of not giving up. He writes, “Our ongoing survival requires relentless attention.” And Gonzales really started talking my language with,

“You have to believe you can influence what happens in your life.”

Does this mean I cling to the steering wheel of life, turning and careening to manipulate things to go my way whenever I’d like? Pft, anytime I try that I end up having to relearn humbling lessons, dust off pride, and cry uncle while simultaneously crying out for a do-over.

Nope, believing we can influence what happens in life is an expression of trusting God to move us through our circumstances—trusting God will move in us. It’s risking enough to step out of the boat and onto the raging waves despite the fact we know we could sink at any moment.

In Surviving Gonzales provides 6 ineffective strategies (what he calls immature defenses) people use in attempt to deal with difficult circumstances.

These are:

Projection—blaming someone else

Passive aggression—responding with anger

Dissociation—denial

Acting out—examples include fighting, drinking, gambling

Fantasy—taking a leave of reality

Hypochondria—imagining you are sick all the time

Then Gonzales details 12 proven strategies for overcoming hardships and pulling through.

These are:

Recognize the reality of the situation. Accept it. Prepare to deal with it.

Remain calm (think, analyze, plan & know what you have and what you want)

Set achievable goals

Act on your plan (movement…I’m kinda a fan of this word)

Celebrate success once you’ve taken action

Count your blessings

Pray (I took notes on this part and I can’t read my writing. This is either play or pray. I’m going with pray b/c it’s worked for me but I don’t recall if that’s what Gonzales wrote)

Giving (find meaningful purpose)

Believe you can influence events

Surrender

Do whatever is necessary to move forward. Let go of your fears.

NEVER GIVE UP

I like how Gonzales highlights twice the amount of effective ways to navigate through the aftermath of tragedy than ineffective ways.

When we’re at our most vulnerable we’re more susceptible to buy into the lie that our influence here is insignificant. I’ve said it before and I’m sure I’ll say it again, you matter. Your life here matters. Horrific circumstances have a way of stripping this truth from us. Without a shadow of a doubt, I’m here to remind you there’s a reason you’re here.

Hope.

*Post dedicated to fellow New Englanders, Bostonians + loved ones

**photo by stock.XCHNG

***I’ll be sporadic online the next few weeks. Next post will be on April 30^th

****I’m thoroughly enjoying my friend Susan DiMickele’s Working Women of the Bible. It’s been a blast to feature so many cool books my friends have written over the past few weeks.

Friday, December 21, 2012

Moving Thoughts Friday--Inspired to Hope

Every Friday I’m going to ask a question. The questions I choose might be ambiguous on purpose. The goal is to have you answer the question according to your beliefs, where you’re at in life or a circumstance that might have recently impacted you.

The only thing I ask is that you provide an explanation for why you answered the way you did.

It’s my hope to understand you better through this and also to gain a greater understanding of humanity and how people make decisions.

What reminds you to hope?

*photos by stock.XCHNG

**I’ll be posting regularly again starting January 2^nd. MERRY CHRISTMAS & Happy New Year!

Monday, December 17, 2012

Not As It Will Be

On Friday night, my youngest asked if she could sleep on the floor next to my bed. She was fighting the flu her older sister had passed down. I fluffed up down comforters and soft, thick blankets, layering her bedding. I piled pillows high so her cough wouldn’t bother her throat too much. I checked to make sure she was surrounded by tissues, a water bottle, and her favorite stuffed animals. We prayed. Then I asked what book she wanted me to read.

Her older sister had thought of her and had taken out a book from the school library earlier that day.

Pete the Cat: Rockingin My School Shoes.

This is the book my kindergartener asked me to read.

Enter the moment.

Though my eyes sting, I open the colorful pages and begin to read, my voice quivery, my heart a ragged, suffering thing inside my chest.

“Here comes Pete strolling down the street, rocking red shoes on his four furry feet. Pete is going to school, and he sings this song…”

Sandy Hook. 20 children dead. 6 adults. My home state. Another school shooting branding permanent images in my brain, my soul.

The crushing losses.

Pages later my voice catches but I continue to read.

“Pete has never been to the library before! Does Pete worry? Goodness, no! He finds his favorite book and sings his song…”

I kiss my daughter’s feverish head. She knows little, next to nothing about what media networks will be highlighting for weeks.

Then I get to this…

“Pete and his friends are playing outside on a green, grassy field with swings and tall slides. Where is Pete? The playground! Kids are running in every direction! Does Pete worry? Goodness, no!”

I sniffle and hold the flood of emotions I’m feeling at bay concerned I’ve already let her see me cry enough for one day.

I make it through to the end of the book.

“When school is done, Pete rides the bus home.”

I’m slammed with the memory of rushing earlier in the day to embrace my older two girls as they bounded off the bus.

“Pete’s mom asks him, ‘What did you do at school today?’ And Pete says… ‘I was rocking in my school shoes…And I will do it again tomorrow! Because it’s all good!’”

My resolve crumbles into a thousand pieces because it so isn’t all good. This world is nothing as it will be.

I tuck the covers up to my daughter’s neck, then I collapse over her wishing I could be a barrier, shielding her from everything out there. We’d already encountered a glimpse of how unsafe this world can be in another form earlier in the year. Now this…

I want her to rock in her school shoes.

I crave heaven.

I turn off the light and thank God for Christmas.

I thank God hope came to earth as a baby. And still lives today.

*My email has been down for days. I apologize if you’ve been trying to reach me and you haven’t heard back. The system seems like it’s almost fully restored.

**I will be posting this Friday.

Wednesday, May 30, 2012

8 Seeds of Encouragement (For Fellow Desert Dwellers)

Ever have a season stretch on for what seems like forever? I have. Whether you’re dealing with infertility, a hard-to-discipline child, an unfulfilling job, mixed feelings about an estrangement, a rocky marriage, chronic pain, illness, or any other specific season that feels like the desert I aim to encourage you today.

In fact, I’m kinda wondering if that’s why my computer crashed yesterday. The 8 seeds of encouragement I’m about to share are full of hope, courage, and motivation. And not everyone wants you to feel encouraged.

But I do. And I was at church on Sunday. So I’m going to share my own take on what our pastor shared with us. We’re working through Exodus. You know, Moses, the mumble grumbles, and the manna. Ultimately, the question seeping out of that book in the Bible is this: Are you going to trust God, turn to Him with faith, and follow His instruction. (Spoiler alert…if not, He loves you anyway.)

8 Seeds of Encouragement for Fellow Desert Dwellers:

God Is Humbling You

Deuteronomy 8:3 states “God humbled you and let you hunger.” Now I bet you’re thinking where’s the encouragement in that. The Bible is saturated with verses detailing how God humbles those he loves. He blesses the humble, lifts them up. It was the humble Jesus hung around most.

You Have an Owner’s Manual

Sometimes I don’t feel like reading the Bible. Sometimes I don’t feel like exercising or eating veggies either, but I can honestly say I’ve never regretted doing any of the above. They’ve nourished me. God’s word is living and active. It bleeds into us, our outlook on life, our perception more than we could ever know.

You Are Not Alone

This is the greatest and most convincing lie we all believe at one time or another. It’s seductive. But it’s false. Yes, no one will ever know exactly what it’s like to walk in our sand-caked sandals, but Jesus promises that He will not leave us nor forsake us. And He’s pretty cool about connecting us with others who’ve gone through similar circumstances. But we need to keep our hearts and eyes open.

Oh Manna

God provided food for the desert dwellers in Exodus. Every morning. Fresh food. Sustenance. What they needed. He does the same for us. Most of the time all is takes is for us to shift our focus, to look down at our hands and feet in grateful recognition of all He’s provided.

Can You Handle It? Why Yes, You Can

We’re told He won’t give us anything beyond what we can handle. I’ve been known to ask God to throw me a bone. There are times I feel borderline crushed. I’ve grown from every single one of those times. And I never got the bone, but maybe a phone call or a hearty laugh or something small but significant to help get me through.

Complaint Meter

Time in the desert can do wonders to teach us how much we complain. Moses had to hear his people repeatedly grumble up a storm. If we pay attention, we’re able to detect how mumbly-grumbly we’ve gotten. Then we can DO something about it.

Testing 123

A test, it’s only a test. Looking at a trying circumstance this way can alleviate the disparity and hopelessness of it all. It gives instant perspective.

Ability to Distinguish Wants from Needs

I’m a crazy shopper. I’ll often whisper this question under my breath (but still out loud so other shoppers give me that “she’s batty” look). Talking to anyone? “Do I want this or need it?”

Here is one more gift that comes from desert time. We’re able to become clear about what we need in life versus what we want.

So whether it’s been 40 minutes, 40 days, or 40 years you’ve been wandering in the desert, be encouraged. Refiner’s fire. You’ll come out of this. You’ll shine.

And just like in a marathon, I’ll be waiting to encourage you on until the end. Oh Manna!

*photo by stock.XCHNG