DiscoverWP

Now

| Marie Griffith

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Right now.

I’m excited and nervous and ready to be there.

But I’m here. Now.

I will run my first Spartan Race tomorrow morning so I’m full of anticipation.

The best thing I can do now is to be all here right now and enjoy it.

Take it in. The excitement and the anticipation of the race. The wondering if I’m prepared. The uneasiness in my stomach. All of it.

That’s all we can do with now. Be here. Be in it and all in it.

I can’t be there yet so I will be fully present here now.

But how many times do I let now pass me by….waiting for tonight or tomorrow or next year….or even worse regretting yesterday or last week or 5 years ago.

And I miss it. The moment.

Now.

It’s gone.

We all have now. Right now. And all of the nows together will make our lives. And each one of them is unique….there’s not another one like it.

The average life will have over 2,200,000,000 of those. That seems plenty until you’ve already experienced over half of them.

I don’t want to miss them.

I’m going to treasure all the moments I get…….every now I can.

The ones when one of my children makes me laugh. The ones I get when driving to work and a favorite song comes on. A beautiful sunrise, a great cup of coffee, a vivid dream.

The ones when I’ve learned or tried something new. The ones when I find out I can do more than I thought I could.

The sweet ones when my husband pulls me tight and hugs me longer.

The late night talks with my children, the early morning ones too. The talk with the neighbor because we were working in our yards at the same time.

The ones when I understand something or find something I thought was lost.

The victorious one when I cross the finish line tomorrow will be a very special moment but the drive to the hotel tonight will have some good ones too.

But right now…….

I’m going to savor the “I can hardly wait” feeling.

“So teach us to number our days
that we may get a heart of wisdom.” Psalm 90:12 ESV

 

In response to the Daily Post’s Discover Challenge Here and Now.

Open Spaces 

| Marie Griffith

What we do with our time tells the world a lot about us.

How do you spend your time? What does your calendar or planner say about your life?

Last month I didn’t like what my planner said about me. It said I’m busy doing a lot of things. Good things, too. But when I’m not careful about how I plan, I end up doing a lot of additional things and ignoring essential things.

I have to regularly ask myself: is my life busy or bountiful? Manageable or meaningful? Do I value relationships over routine?

We are afflicted with the idea that we aren’t accomplishing anything unless we are rushing here and there, checking off the items on our “to do” list. But a full calendar doesn’t equal an abundant life. I cannot feel the spaciousness of God’s love when I’ve crammed my calendar full.

When I crowd my calendar with a lot of additional unnecessary activities, I crowd out opportunities for good conversations. I push away the chance of a meaningful encounter. I cannot live on purpose when I’m running around trying to accomplish a lot of things. When I’m rushing from one place to the next I don’t see the people around me. I may see them with my eyes, but not with my heart.

I won’t take the time to smile and say hello to the elderly lady behind me. I won’t notice the young boy in the cereal aisle that’s lost his mother.  I’ll rush through a phone call from my sister.

Because I want to live like it matters and after years of doing it the wrong way, I know that I need time in my home with my family and I need solitude. So I must be wise when planning and making commitments. Since I work full-time most of my days are filled but I can be intentional about my evenings.

I’ve learned that I need plenty of blank spaces in my calendar….some unplanned blocks of time…………time to move at soul-speed. The kind of time when I’m still and my heart is open to any kind of heavenly thought that God might send my way.

The unplanned time can be the most meaningful time spent. The kind that allows for a lengthy unrushed phone call with a long distance friend. Or a cozy movie night at home with my husband because the kids are out of the house unexpectedly. Or a nap on a Sunday afternoon.

We all need open spaces in our calendars.

My Live Like It Matters Challenge to you is to leave some open spaces in your planner. Circle them if you have to but leave them blank. See what it does for you. See what it does for the people around you.

Unplanned time is time well spent.

Because how you spend your time matters. And how you plan or don’t plan matters.

Live like it matters.

Photo by Eric Rothermel on Unsplash

This Place

| Marie Griffith

This is a special place.

It’s not just the beauty here. Or the sound of the ocean here. Or the sunshine and the salty air here.

It’s not the awayness or that I don’t wear shoes and I feel the sand in my toes here.

It’s not just that I’m resting here and not working here.

It’s all those things but not just those things.

It’s the love here. From the people here. For fifteen years here.

It’s God here and what He does here.

My heart is especially open here in this place. Because of all those things. The beauty and the rest and the people and the time spent. The conversations and fun and laughter.

There are tears here too. And sadness sometimes. And hard stuff.

Because real life has happened and the beautiful sunrises and the waves and finding seashells doesn’t change that.

And the ocean won’t take away real life.

But to be with people that love you and know you and that you feel at home with in this place…..this place you love….. is good.

And it can heal you.

Because these people you love…..they love you back.

And God uses these people and this place to show you His love.

Because when you walk beside the ocean and the waves crash around your feet and you look toward the horizon and can’t see the end of it……….you see the vastness of it all. That God created it.

God feels big and that feels good.

And He loves you with an everlasting love.

In response to the Discover Challenge Finding Your Place.

Embrace the New

| Marie Griffith

When I began this post, I didn’t realize this was going to be another installment in my Live Like it Matters Challenge. But it is.

A couple of weeks ago I wrote about the challenge of getting back to my running routine since we’ve moved to our new home in a post called My Groove. There are no long quiet country roads like in our previous place. To get to any roads that would work for me, I’d have to cross a busy highway. A few times I ran on our little road without crossing the highway…..back and forth and back and forth, to the highway and back down…..again and again. It wasn’t terrible but it was terribly boring.

My husband reminded me of the park in town but I wouldn’t think of it. I like to walk out my front door and start running. I don’t want to drive to the park to run.

But last week, I drove to the park to run. And I did it again two days later. And I’ve done it again a couple of times since.

So I guess the park is part of my new groove and I’m glad it is.image

First, it’s forced me to rethink my fitness. I still run, but not daily. I’ve included other things into my fitness and I needed to do that anyway.

Second, I’ve met some really cool people at the park. Like Mark. He’s an older gentlemen with 3 dogs and a disability. He doesn’t work. His wife passed away several years ago with cancer. In the only conversation we’ve ever had, he told me about his father, his wife, his disability, his dogs, the mission trips his father took, and some other things about his life. I listened.

I think he needed someone to listen.

I also met Adam. I saw his t-shirt when he ran passed me in the opposite direction and I made a comment. When I saw him again he was running in my direction and slowed down to speak. He and his family live near the park. He loves to run and has recently competed in a Spartan Race, which is where he got the t-shirt. I’ve heard about the Spartan Races and thought about doing one. I found out more information and…..who knows. I may see him at a Spartan Race one day.

Now I understand that this “new” thing, this new groove of mine, is another opportunity to Live Like it Matters.

There’a always going to be something new in our lives. Some new things are big. Some are small. A new job, a changed job description, or a layoff. A different house, another kid, a friend moves away, your dog dies or your water heater bursts and ruins every floor in your house.

New is different and sometimes it hurts. But any new thing in your life can be an opportunity.

There’s really no other option but to embrace it and make the best out of it if you want to be a happy person.

Because you matter and what you do matters.

 

Mama

| Marie Griffith

Mom’s wait was over one year ago today. Her last breath left her while all of us were gathered around her at home, holding her hands, telling her we love her, crying because we knew we’d miss her, but rejoicing that her fight for breath was finished.

One of my favorite memories of Mom is when I was a teenager living in Chattanooga, Tennessee. She, my younger sister and I were at Eastgate Mall and she wanted to eat a sandwich at Glen Gene’s deli.  We sat down to eat our sandwiches and we talked and laughed. She listened mostly. I don’t remember the words said or what I was wearing or the taste of the sandwich. I remember the deli wasn’t crowded. I remember her happy and smiling and there. And I remember the song that played while sitting in those yellow seats at Glen Gene’s deli that day.  The song was, “True” by Spandau Ballet.

So true
Funny how it seems
Always in time, but never in line for dreams
Head over heels when toe to toe
This is the sound of my soul
This is the sound 

“Always in time, but never in line for dreams…..”  Mom didn’t speak of the dreams she had for her life. She didn’t talk about how she thought her life would turn out. I wonder if it was what she thought or hoped it would be.

She loved Daddy and her quartet of daughters. She loved her home and the town she lived in. She was a woman of courage and she didn’t give up. She stayed in a hard marriage that turned into 51 years.

Mom was a hard worker and taught us to do the same. Anyone who ever tasted her cooking praised her work in the kitchen. She was a list-maker to the very end and funny, too. She had us laughing even in the last days.

She loved reminiscing and in the last year of her life she shared treasured memories with us as often as we would sit and listen.

She commented on one of my posts called “51” about a year before she left us and several months before Daddy passed.

Marie,

Thank you for the beautiful words you put together for Wayne and I. I do believe our four beautiful and wonderful daughters had so very much to do with us making the marriage work. Not only our girls, but our friends and families that were praying for us through all the difficult times. Ultimately, it was God and his love that got us through the rough times. Also, I knew Wayne was a godly person and did not want the life we were living with the drinking problem. I knew that one day he would ask God to remove the desire for drinking away from his mind, body and heart. God answered that prayer and today we continue trusing in God and his promises. Thanks to our four daughters for what they have given to us, their love and trust and our ten grandchildren.

Love,

Mom

Each time she spoke of her life she was thankful.

To God…..for us…..for Daddy….for her other family…… and her wonderful friends.  She was thankful for everything. She praised God.

Let everything that has breath praise the Lord. Praise the Lord.      Psalm 150:6 

I think she was in line for dreams and hers came true.

Write

| Marie Griffith

Anne Lamott wrote in Bird by Bird  “To be a good writer, you not only have to write a great deal but you have to care. You do not have to have a complicated moral philosophy. But a writer always tries, I think, to be part of the solution, to understand a little about life and to pass it on”.

I’ve always written…….in a journal, notes to friends, poems, and prayers. I want others to read what I write, but not because I think I have some remarkable message to share. But, I do know things and my perspective on life will definitely be different from yours. If my experiences teach you something, reveal a truth, make you think about something you’ve never thought about before, or simply make you feel less alone, that is enough.

I write to share what I’ve learned, and struggled with. Or what makes me laugh. What moves me or changes me. But mostly what I struggle with. I share it so you’ll know you’re not the only one. I end up feeling less alone, too.

I’ve done what I set out to do if I’ve caused that middle-aged teacher to feel less guilty about his anger over caring for his widowed father while caring for his own family.

Or maybe the girl that’s on her 5th try into the new year to make good on her resolution to lose weight. Maybe she feels hopeful and decides to press on because of something I put out there. Or maybe instead she decides she likes her curves. Either way, she’s better.

If I’ve given you the courage to ask for a raise, I’ve done what I hope to do.

I write to encourage, inspire, and connect. To give hope, to make you ponder a question you’ve never asked before, to make you laugh or cry. To help unlock a memory stored away. I write to help you see someone in a new way, or help start the journey of forgiving, or put into words what you can’t seem to.

I write to pass it on.

In response to the Daily Post’s Guilty.