Be who you were born to be

When Ozzie Smith learned he had been chosen for the Baseball Hall of Fame, a TV reporter asked him why he had decided to play baseball. His reply was simple: "I played because it's what I was put here to do."

Oprah Winfrey said this: "That whisper you keep hearing is the universe trying to get your attention . . . When you're true to who you are and what your spirit is telling you to do, that truth will indeed set you free. . . . Wherever I'm faced with a difficult decision, I ask myself: What would I do if I weren't afraid of making a mistake, feeling rejected, looking foolish or being alone? Remove the fear, and the answer comes into focus."

I believe we spend a good part of our life running from what life asks of us (just as we spend a good part of our life running from what God asks of us). We're afraid saying "yes" means saying "no" to so many other things we've grown accustomed to. But peace, I believe, can only come when we're true to the life we were meant to live.

Martha Beck, in her book "Finding Your Own North Star," said, "Your body is free but your heart is in prison. To release your heart, you simply reverse the process which locked it up. First you begin to listen for messages from your heart--messages you may have been ignoring since childhood. Next you must take the daring, risky step of expressing your heart in the outside world. ... As you learn to live by heart, every choice you make will become way of telling your story. ... It is the way you were meant to exist. If you stop to listen, you'll realize that your heart has been telling you so all along."

A gift of faith

Our gift exchange is always very simple. The kids get one or two things from me from the heart and I, in turn, get something meaningful from them. Today's gift was this portrait of the two of them. (photo by Picture Perfect Photography--Tracy Orr)

One gift to my daughter and her fiance was my copy of The Living Bible I used in high school and college. It was given to me by the sister I lost last year. It is far from a new Bible; the kids called it the ultimate recycled gift. There are underlinings, comments in the margins, scraps of paper marking certain sections, and even rose petals from a past love. My hope is that my underlinings will guide them in their own exploration of the word of God as they soon begin their life together; a life, I hope, which will include a strong faith to support them in good times and in bad times. My faith has been my rock; even the years I spent hiding from God, but that's for another blog.

My son's gift was a tough one to give. It was a watch for him to wear as he joins the ROTC program in college next year. It has an army green band, is waterproof and recharges in the sunlight. You see, it has been hard for me to accept his choice to join the service. Today was my way of affirming his choice and supporting his decision.

Life will change for all of us in the coming year. One will marry. One will go to college. So it was a bittersweet Christmas morning. Life changes, but love remains.

Where did I tell my daughter to begin her personal Bible journey--Philippians, of course; a book of happiness and joy and courage.

Get out of the boat

I see the look in your eyes; that look caused by unimaginable pressure and grief, that look caused by helplessness and hopelessness, that look caused by incessantly rowing a boat that isn’t going anywhere. I see the look because I know the feeling.

Get out of the boat.

Days and days I felt like I was rowing a rickety boat across an ocean of sticky muck. And, no matter how hard I pulled, it kept sucking me in. Deep down I knew if anything was going to change, I had to get out of the boat. You have to get out of your boat.

Granted, there is a sense of security in the boat. After all, it seems solid, gives at least some protection at times, and seems to be moving, even if only in a circle. But what I thought was security was actually an anchor pulling me to the depths, robbing me of confidence and beauty and love and health.

Get out of the boat, I told myself. Just step out.

Of course when you do, you feel exhilarated for an instant, ‘til you realize you’ve been in the boat so long you’ve forgotten how to swim. The muck is still all around you and now you don’t even have a boat to keep you dry.

Swim, girl. Swim hard. Get to solid ground. For many, familiar beacons on shore from the past no longer offer any help and disappear. For the first time, you’re swimming in new territory. But swim you must.

Get out of your boat.
Find solid ground.
Trust yourself.
Trust others.

It will be all right. I promise.