Forgiveness: Five Sentences—July 30, 2011

Perceived faults, unkind words, and dark deeds of the past too often spring to the forefront of my memory. I wish memory were more of a blessing and brought only the happiest times to mind. Can I remember and refocus on one kind act or positive aspect involving someone who haunts my past? Can I emphasize that kindness until my perception and my primary memories are the happiest ones? Can I change the focus of some memories by forgiving and remembering, rather than forgiving and forgetting? 

Forgiveness: Four Sentences—July 29, 2011

Keys unlock doors, solve puzzles, open electric circuits, and even symbolize love when someone holds the key to our heart. Each time I use a key to unlock a door, can I use that key to remind me to forgive? Can I use the symbolism of the key to open myself to the lightness inherent in an unlocked heart? Today, and in future days, as my key turns the tumblers in the lock, I will say, “I open my heart to forgive.”

It’s Called the Week-End for a Reason

Dusk moves in late Friday afternoon. The sun’s rays fade from golden to pink, palest orange, and lavender as it sets in the western sky. Cooler air signaling day’s end brushes lightly against our skin. Sweet relief—even if momentary—tiptoes into our work-weary psyches.

In spite of the overgrown lawn, overfull laundry hamper, handprints on the walls, sandy kitchen floor, and piles of paperwork, it’s important to remember that the week has ended.

During the next two days, can you join me and create a time for yourself, for your family, and for your friends to relax, rest, and renew your body, mind, and spirit?

Forgiveness: Three Sentences—July 28, 2011

Hands that continue to be held for years and years must have offered forgiveness countless times. How would my life look if I offer my hands in forgiveness countless times? I open my hands and heart to forgiveness today.

Forgiveness: Two Sentences — July 27, 2011

Judgment is an activity for which I need no additional practice. Forgiveness, however, merits my attention and practice until I embrace it with comfort, joy, ease, and grace.

Forgiveness: One Sentence -- July 26, 2011

I wish I were as quick to forgive as I am to judge.

Tired? You Are Not Alone

Tired? I'm Tired. She's Tired. He's Tired. We Are All Tired.

Put It on the To-Do List: Time for Rest and Renewal

Tired to the bone. Weary. Beat. Exhausted. Worn out. I’m tired. She’s tired. He’s tired. We’re all tired. The clock ticks within each of us. I wake at 6—or earlier—and often feel like I’m shot through a cannon as soon as I hop out of bed. The to-do list begins. Today’s is already so long, I know I will not do most things on it. I stopped after item 8 because because everything on the list must happen after I achieve my daily commitments. It’s Monday, 7:09 a.m. and I don’t even want to look at the list, much less tackle it. I’m tired because I think about everything I have to do and no end is in sight for the entire day, much less the entire week, which looms long for the next six days.

The list and the week loom long because I know the list will get longer as each day passes and I imagine myself tired; I get more tired thinking about being tired. But what if I knew the list would end? What if I knew the endless activities would stop? What if I knew I could rest, that I would rest? Would I feel so tired? I think not.

A day of rest is tempting. By rest, I don’t mean a day off. I mean rest, real rest. I don’t know much about other cultures, but in most of America, a day off simply means a day when someone does not attend to their job, whether that job’s location is an office, a classroom, a construction site, a retail business, a restaurant, a mine, a field… A day “off” means doing everything else that isn’t done on workdays. That day “off” means shopping, cleaning, cooking, home repairs, landscaping, bill-paying…. Like me, most Americans have an endless to-do list, and that list gets tackled during the hours away from paid employment.

Leisure time: What’s that? It, too, is going the way of the dinosaur, because what many Americans call play is just another version of work. That play might be fun, social, physically stimulating, health-enhancing, certainly, but too often our play is strikingly similar to work, and even has work in its name: working out, working at our “golf game,” working toward a goal of running a marathon, artwork, needlework, working in the garden. Sailing, skiing, tennis, beach volleyball, a pick-up soccer game, all are worthy physical activities in themselves and provide social contact and stimulation, but they don’t provide rest.

What would a day of rest look like? My day of rest looks like the following: I wake leisurely, without a glance at the clock. A day of rest means I step away from my “work”-day world. On that restful day, I do not work. I attend to my spiritual needs. I stop. I nap. I eat well. I look at the flowers, but don’t trim or weed them. I read a book. I turn off the computer. I reflect. I stop.

Yesterday, I was bone-tired, weary, sleepy. My hands ached from gardening earlier in the week, so I knew if I trimmed one flower or pulled one weed, I would push my hands past overwork and into injury. Other than being physically tired, I was spent emotionally and spiritually. When I told my daughter I was going to church, she said I was “good.” I corrected her: “No. I’m selfish,” I said. “I‘m going because I want to be filled spiritually.”

Sabbath was the sermon topic. It is not exclusive to believers or followers of a faith to observe a Sabbath. Sabbath is religious in connotation, but Sabbath, the word, means “a day of rest.” I was exhausted, so I decided to take a Sabbath. I left soon after the service’s end, came home, put on comfy clothes, and climbed into bed with a book. I napped. I read. I ate. I talked with family. I didn’t avoid the computer completely, but I turned away from the television when I felt anxious and afraid as I watched a few snippets of the movie others were viewing in the living room.

Did taking a day off make any difference? Honestly, it didn’t yesterday because I was too tired to do anything else.

What does make a difference today as my to-do list plays in the background of my mind is that I know this week will end. I have decided I will take a Sabbath next week. Knowing that the list will stop, work will stop, shopping will stop, cleaning and gardening will stop, gives me the energy I need to begin my week. Knowing there is an end in sight makes me less tired. My to-do list for this week has a new, important item: Stop, rest, and renew on Sunday.

What would a day off look like to you? Does your week loom long and burdensome when you view it from a perspective of no end in sight? How would your week look if you knew you would rest, truly rest, on one of the next seven days?