Oct 24, 2007 |
by Annette Bridges. © 2007. All rights reserved.
You might wonder how remodeling a house could lead to spiritual insights about life. I was surprised myself at the unexpected twist.
I waited years to remodel our master bedroom. Something was always coming up that demanded our time, attention and money — and we kept putting the remodeling on the backburner. But finally the day arrived and the project was underway.
One special aspect of the master bathroom was a mural surrounding our new tub — painted by a friend, who is a phenomenal artist.
Since my favorite view is of the ocean, my friend created a scene so that when I soaked in the tub I could imagine myself by the water’s edge — with waves crashing, palm trees swaying, sandpipers standing at attention on the sand, and seagulls flying overhead.
A surprise in this seaside picture was an island on the horizon. When I praised my friend’s work, she told me she had not initially planned to paint the island. She had made a mistake with her brush, and in trying to determine how best to correct it, she turned her mistake into an island. It was the perfect addition to an already awe-inspiring painting. Truly, a masterpiece. A glimpse of God’s creation with every detail in its perfect place.
Lately, as I look at her mistake, I realize that I can’t even imagine the scene without it. And this has caused me to reflect on mistakes I’ve made in my life. I’ve wondered what my life would be today without those mistakes.
My most vivid memory of a life-altering mistake was when I was placed on academic suspension from college my freshmen year. Not that the suspension was a mistake but rather the result of my poor study skills and more time spent in social activities than in classes.
For a while, I was devastated and depressed. I was forced to leave my new friends and a new boyfriend and to leave my new home and return to my parent’s home. I didn’t know what to do with my life.
Not long after going back to live with my parents, I received an encouraging letter from my college advisor. She explained that the word “suspend” also meant to “uphold by invisible support.” I could know I was also being supported by the school’s hopes and expectation of my return. I appreciated this definition, as it began to shift my viewpoint from self-pity to looking forward.
I also struggled with guilt. I realized I had made many mistakes in judgment that led to my current plight. I felt horrible. I felt I had let my parents down. Although they were compassionate toward me, I knew they had to be disappointed in me. I know I was.
I felt like I was floundering at the beginning of my adulthood. In search of solutions and encouragement, I turned to the Scriptures and the various writings of Mary Baker Eddy. These resources had supported my prayers in the past. Surely, there would be answers now.
I started keeping a journal. As I studied, prayed, pondered and listened, I wrote in my journal. Quotes. Insights. Questions. Inspirations. Ideas. I also spent time with my parents — praying, reading and reasoning together. Something I had not done in a long time. We had wonderful discussions. I felt blessed for the time we were sharing together.
It was the inspiring ideas in a column titled “Improve your time” by Eddy that changed my point of view from inadequacy and failure to the woman of God’s creating — a woman possessing the ability and talents needed to be successful. She wrote about how to achieve success in one’s life with persistent effort and the improvement of moments — how to stop wasting time and move from indecision about what to do. She said, “If one would be successful in the future, let him make the most of the present.”
Leaving past mistakes behind me, I focused on present possibilities. Soon, a job opportunity presented itself. One that taught me much about unselfish care for others’ needs. I enrolled in a community college, where I took several remedial classes and workshops to improve my reading and writing skills. And I continued to cherish time with my parents.
A few months later, I returned to my home college. Three years later, I earned my Bachelor of Arts degree with the senior class award for “progress.”
Life-changing lessons were learned from the mistakes of my freshmen year. And time spent with my step-dad during those months became all the more precious to me when he passed on shortly after I returned to college. I then saw my time home as a gift. A gift I might not have had without those mistakes that sent me home.
No, I don’t think I can imagine my life today without any of my past mistakes.
Learning from our mistakes, growing wiser because of them, we progress into the masterpiece of God’s beholding. His eternal and constant view of His beloved children — strong, intelligent, loving, healthy. . . good.
Oct 24, 2006 |
by Annette Bridges. © 2006. All rights reserved.
There I sat… in my sand chair, on the beach of my dreams, relishing the ocean surf and air, reading my magazine, away from phone and computer. Little did I suspect I was soon to read a story that would lead me to question my outlook for the future.
Why is it that a near-death experience often leads to a dramatic change of course in an individual’s life?
The story that suddenly captured my attention was about a couple’s change in their life’s trajectory. They were in the eighth year of their five-year plan to accomplish their dream of a life at sea. After the wife had what was described as a serious health scare, they asked the question, “What were they waiting for?” They answered by putting lucrative careers on hold and selling everything that wouldn’t fit on their sailboat. Thus began their change of course.
The first thing that hit me was that I didn’t have a five-year plan or a ten-year plan or any plan at all for the rest of my life. I had reached middle age without making new goals or imagining new dreams. Somewhere along the way, I had stopped envisioning or planning for the future.
After reading this couple’s story, I asked myself what I wanted to do with the rest of my life. I reasoned that I was comfortable, content and satisfied. Honestly, a future of senior years was a path I wasn’t anxious to travel, so I had started to focus only on making the most of present moments and had decided to let the future take care of itself.
Certainly my husband and I talk about places we want to see and things we want to do… one of these days. But we didn’t have specific dates in mind for these dreams. I was now beginning to wonder if our dreams would ever be reached or experienced without setting tangible and realistic goals.
Looking back at my life, I recalled how it felt to want to make a change and not know where to go or how to begin. I remembered the frustration and unhappiness caused by indecision. And I thought about the lessons learned from these times — that a proactive and definitive approach was needed to make progress instead of a vague proposal that tends to keep one in idle, doing nothing, going nowhere.
I wanted to change my view as well as my course for the future. As I sat in my sand chair gazing upon the vast ocean scene before my eyes, I contemplated the infinity of life. I was reminded of an elderly friend of a friend. This dear man was in the midst of remodeling his home, even though he was approaching the century mark of his life journey. My friend asked him why he was remodeling his house at this point of his life. And he replied, “I take my concept of home with me into eternity.” And he further explained how he must always be perfecting, improving, moving forward — setting goals and going about achieving the goals.
If you’re a country music fan like I am, you’ve no doubt heard Tim McGraw’s hit song released a couple of years ago: “Live like you were dying.” The song encourages listeners to live “like tomorrow was a gift” and make the most of the present. The song asks, “You got eternity to think about what you do with it — what should you do with it?”
I realized my view of the future had become clouded by fear and dread. I had lost the zeal and joy for the future that I had felt in my youth.
So, I’m changing my course and singing a new song: “Live like life’s eternal.” To me, this means believing, knowing and expecting infinite possibilities of what I may do next in my life. Tim’s song suggests bull-riding. Well… maybe not.
But I’m being impelled to ponder my future with a new sense of enthusiasm and anticipation. Reshaping my view of the future by a life that is eternal is wiping out fear of age and tribulations, erasing limitations, encouraging goal setting and an expectation of obtaining new dreams.
Oct 17, 2006 |
by Annette Bridges. © 2006. All rights reserved.
Icy weather that kept me inside during the football play-offs created an unexpected writing experience. Watching these championship games leading up, as my husband says, to the defining moment in any football team’s season — the Super Bowl — has prompted me to review defining moments in my own life.
What makes defining moments? I think they are moments, sometimes major events, always memorable occurrences, that cause me to think in terms of “before” and “after.” They are the moments that define and redefine who I am. They are the moments that stand out — some positive, some not so grand. But they are the moments that have raised my awareness and helped me discover the truth of who I am and my life purpose.
This process began with me making a list of what I think of as the major events in my life to date. I suspect some on my list are not so unlike many of yours, including such occasions as meeting my husband and having a baby. These might be characterized as two of the greatest “touchdowns” of my life.
Then, there are the more challenging events, which for me include my dad’s passing when I was 10 years old; a homeless journey with my mom that landed us in Texas; my suspension from college. Some experiences are a mixture of happy and sad, such as the day my daughter (my only child) left for college and the day she got married. These events could be translated into a collection of tackles and sacks with a few injuries, dropped balls and penalties, as well as some unforgettable third-down conversions.
While my life appears to be the sum of four quarters of play action, these in and of themselves do not define my life. I realize that it’s been the way I’ve responded to each big and small play that delineates who I am.
It seems the secret, or at least one key ingredient, to being a good quarterback is how well I respond when forced out of my comfort zone. This is when the “pass rush” comes toward me, and I may feel I have no control. Do I get out of my comfort zone and make the essential play, or do I stay and take the sack and perhaps even fumble the ball?
There are times when I’ve wondered how to gain the skills to perfect my game, especially when the needed response would have me going outside the secure walls I’ve built for myself. Since I was introduced to the teachings of Christian Science — another defining moment in my life — I’ve been learning that I actually have all I need right now as a beloved child of God. I need only respond using my God-given abilities. The Bible tells me, “Fear not, little flock; for it is your Father’s good pleasure to give you the kingdom” (Luke 12:32). These words remind me that God is always giving me everything I need to reach crowning achievements in my game of life. And when I have any doubts, I am assured, “Draw nigh to God, and he will draw nigh to you” (James 4:8). When I’m confused or unsure how to respond to whatever I’m facing, I can turn to God — what I know about God’s ever-presence, goodness and love — and I will feel the divine leading and guiding me.
Life isn’t just about the big plays, touchdowns and field goals. I’ve discovered many defining moments are those precious memories that happen in between the major events. So my next list was a list of memories that stand out, many that I now see taught me valuable life lessons.
One example among many is my earliest recollection, when I was nearly 4 years old. I recall the delight I felt in running up and down what seemed to me was a “huge hill” in the hallway of our house. I suspect it was some unleveled floor, as we lived in a very old house. But to a toddler, it was a hill that gave me much happiness. This dear reminiscence teaches me to remember the joy God promises in each moment and to respond with rejoicing as I run up and down the life-hills that I may face.
Needless to say, my memories list is a few pages longer than my major event list. This tells me that life truly is more about the moments — each individual moment, not just the grandiose events. Yes, watching the football play-offs this year has reminded me of the importance of staying present with my life so that I recognize and cherish all of the not-to-be-forgotten moments that teach me grand life-lessons.
May you and I reflect upon all the defining moments of our lives and be able to conclude, “I was there, I lived and breathed and played the game. I learned and I loved, I laughed and I cried, and I danced. Life is good.”
Oct 17, 2006 |
I should have … I could have … If only I would have …
How much time do you spend thinking about what might have been? This is a question that reminds me of a favorite country-western song. The lyrics include the phrases “I try not to think about what might have been, ’cause that was then … there’s no way to know what might have been.” Even though we know better, still we lament and often pine over what might have been.
Researchers on the subject of “regrets” have concluded the biggest secret regret is omission — not doing something you feel you should have done. In fact, researchers say we are often haunted by the inactions of our lives. The top four regrets stated by study participants are: not getting more education, career regrets, regrets in love, and not spending enough time with kids.
It seems harboring regret is not good for your health and reportedly leads to depression and even physical illness. A university study in the journal Psychology and Aging shows that older people who have less severe regrets have fewer health problems and sleep better at night, too.
Is there ever a time when regret is positive and helpful? Certainly the lessons that can come with regrets and the wisdom we glean can help us make changes so we don’t repeat mistakes or bad choices. The famous parable of the “prodigal son” told by Jesus and recorded in Luke 15:11-24 illustrates the usefulness of regret that leads to genuine repentance and opens the door to progress.
It was the story of two sons. The younger son asked his father to give him his inheritance. Soon this young son headed out on his own, but it didn’t take him long to waste everything he had been given and end up penniless. Because the son was barely surviving, he recognized and admitted the error of his ways and longed to return to his father. He wanted to tell his father that although he was no longer worthy to be called his son, he hoped his father would hire him as a servant. But the father gave his son’s remorseful remarks little heed. He loved his son unconditionally and wanted only to celebrate his son’s safe return home.
I would imagine that the father was probably also inwardly grateful to witness his son’s humble and penitent return but was not the type of father who would have belabored his son’s regret. There would have been no productive reason to do so. I’m learning that this is also true for how I treat myself.
Call it failed expectations or perhaps lost opportunities, looking back on my life lately, I’ve been struggling to overcome feelings of regret. When I shared these feelings with my husband, he asked me, “What would you have done differently?” The crazy thing is that I actually didn’t have an answer. It’s not that I would want to change any particular one thing in my life. I’ve loved every moment of my life to this day. I’ve just been overcome with sadness and disappointment that somehow I’ve missed doing something or it’s too late to do some things. And I’ve been reliving this sadness daily.
I’m beginning to see what the father of the prodigal son must have known, that rehashing regret serves no good purpose. I can see that regret interferes with happy, productive living and restricts motivation to move forward. I’m realizing if there is something I really want to do, that I can do it. Nothing is stopping me but my own inaction.
The fact is, God has always been working out His purpose in my life, and there is no reason for me to think that His plan is not going to continue for the remainder of my days. There isn’t an end to God’s direction or the goodness He provides, so I certainly don’t need to fear any such end just because I’ve reached the so-called middle age of my life. No doubt, we can’t even begin to imagine all the good that God has for us. As Paul says, “Eye hath not seen, not ear heard, neither have entered into the heart of man, the things which God hath prepared for them that love him” (1 Corinthians 2:9).
As always in my prayers, I’ve learned that I must begin with my view of God, and this view can help free me from any stifling feelings of needless regret. God is infinite good, and I am, as we all are, the expression of the Infinite. Everything God gives is also infinite. I guess I’ve been thinking of my experiences, or possibilities for experiences, as somehow finite, and yet God provides infinite possibilities for blessing our lives.
This is not a new lesson for me. I know I must change the view of myself from being limited or bewildered to what God is always knowing and seeing in me and for me. And I know this viewpoint will enable me to see the infinite possibilities that are indeed present now and in the future — possibilities that bring joy, fun, fulfillment, satisfaction and a sense of accomplishment. So, I’m putting “what might have been” behind me and focusing my gaze on what is yet to be — on what I shall do, what I can do, what I will do.
Oct 13, 2006 |
by Annette Bridges. © 2006. All rights reserved.
“Summertime, and the livin’ is easy.” I think that’s how the song begins. But it’s not so easy in summertime when one lives on a Texas ranch and it’s hay season.
My mama says she didn’t send me to college to end up driving a tractor. To get my hands dirty. But almost immediately upon the completion of my undergraduate degree, I married a Texas boy and began life on a cattle ranch.
Most of the time, I tell my friends my life is much like Eva Gabor on the U.S. 1960’s sitcom, “Green Acres.” I go shopping. I get monthly pedicures. I go to the hairdresser twice a month. And I get my acrylic nails put on and filled. This also requires two appointments each month. And I never, ever, ever drive a tractor without first putting on my lipstick.
Today was the first day of this year’s hay season. I admit this time of year is a love, sometimes hate, relationship. The long workdays and late night dinners are not much fun. But there is something about driving a tractor that I do enjoy. The smell of freshly cut grass is most pleasing. And I especially relish the broad view the hay fields provide as I move along.
The big horizon before my gaze reminds me how infinite life is. And whatever troubles have been burdening my heart begin to seem quite small in contrast.
Inevitably, the last stanza of a favorite hymn comes to mind:
“Green pastures are before me, Which yet I have not seen; Bright skies will soon be o’er me, Where darkest clouds have been. My hope I cannot measure, My path in life is free; My Father has my treasure, And He will walk with me.”
As I press on under the hot Texas sun and sing these words, my heart is filled with peaceful appreciation of the moment. I take a deep breath, wipe the sweat off my brow, and sing the words again. Then, I start to reflect on how attitudes and perceptions impact my life.
As I grew up, my mama always encouraged me to look for what is good in everything. And to be grateful. Time and again her advice proved to be right, and I learned how gratitude was a viewpoint from which my life could be observed, helping me to see what was there instead of what was not. Gratitude had the power to broaden my vision and to help me see options and prospects that were only obscured by a limited point of view.
My most vivid recent example of this came with the remodel of the little farmhouse where my husband and I have lived the past 25 years. It began as our starter house and grew into the home where we would raise our only child. Now, it has become the place where we may spend our retirement years.
For most of these years, I was ready to move out. Ready to build a new house. And consequently, I spent much of my time being unhappy about where I was and looking forward to something that might never be.
A friend, who is a talented artist with an interior decorator’s eye, was visiting one day and began pointing out various special and unique features she saw in our little farmhouse. She saw details I had never appreciated and valued before–mostly because I was consumed with focusing on what I didn’t like. My heart was so set on building a new house, I wasn’t even considering ideas on how to improve where I was.
A truly miraculous thing happened — something I didn’t expect, wasn’t looking for, and would never have imagined. My view of my little farmhouse changed. As my appreciation for it grew, I began to imagine ways to remodel. Very soon, the idea of building a new house was no longer even a consideration. I wanted to stay where I was. I was totally happy and satisfied where I was. Today, with the remodeling almost complete, I can’t imagine living anywhere else.
Once again, gratitude helped me to see present possibilities, and that new view changed my life.
My first day of driving the tractor this year was accomplished with me feeling quite satisfied with and proud of my hay loader skills. Those folks familiar with this type of work will appreciate my meaning when I say I didn’t miss any bales!
A thumbs up from my husband affirmed, “Good job!” And I was on my way to cook supper.
Summertime in Texas means many more days like today. But tomorrow’s not a hay baling day! I have my pedicure appointment!
