Well, it's Wednesday. Now to see how it's possible to be thankful for events so far this morning. I went through a somewhat tedious process to become eligible to ride the handicapped bus service in my home town. Their method of operation involves phoning a day ahead to make a reservation.
Tomorrow I need a ride to my church building to attend the Dave Ramsey class. So, I phoned the bus office. I gave them the information, and was promptly informed that the bus cannot take me to my church in Byron Center, because I no longer live in Byron Center.
I do have a wry sense of humor, but this stretches it more than a little. Most of my church members attended this class last year, when it was held on the same night as choir practice. This year, the group is much smaller.
I've left a message with the pastor who usually is there to lead the group, and I'll see what happens.
Wednesday, February 3, 2010
Tuesday, February 2, 2010
Causes for thanks: A fifteen-foot desk, and a strong east wind.
In the last few years I've come to the conclusion that it's past time to cease disparaging Pollyanna and her attitude. Gladness and thanksgiving truly aren't hokey. They train our minds to hope.
Yes, it's easy to be cynical about politics and the economy. They don't function as they should, because the world is broken. We aren't in control, and our efforts to exert control are flawed. But we do still have the gift of our private thoughts and the opportunity to choose.
So, why am I thankful for a fifteen-foot desk, and a strong east wind? The desk supports green plants that were gifts from loving family and friends, and my perpetual piles of projects in progress. (A little too much alliteration, possibly?)
I've got library books to read for the comparative analysis for my book proposal, writing craft books, materials from a course my church is offering, and hand scribbled sheets of score paper that may some day really be a song. There's also a Toastmaster speech I must prepare.
I'll be the first to admit that the stacks look a fright, but my favorite college professor once scolded me, saying: "God did not create you to be bored." It all means that I know people, and interact with them. Most of them seem to enjoy my company, despite my physical limitations.
I'm thankful that I'm capable of completing each project. Some may take more attempts than others, or some assistance from others, but I am not helpless.
Yes, I weary of the repetition of some chores, dish-washing and cooking most specifically, but I've learned to stand in the middle of my kitchen, and deliberately give thanks aloud for having food in the refrigerator to cook, electricity to operate the refrigerator, a stove to cook on, pans to cook in, and table ware to eat from. If by then my grumpy mood hasn't faded, I go on with my vocal thanks for any other area in my home or on my schedule where I have incomplete work.
You see, I've lived in close proximity to the mental and spiritual poison of critical complaining, and I don't enjoy the changes that can make in me. Since attitudes are so catching, and I've had my previous experience, I choose now to approach my life through the question: "What did you thank God for, today?"
Oh, that strong east wind? It's been making my wind chime ring continuously, and it's blowing in snow that will eventually make a photography opportunity.
Yes, it's easy to be cynical about politics and the economy. They don't function as they should, because the world is broken. We aren't in control, and our efforts to exert control are flawed. But we do still have the gift of our private thoughts and the opportunity to choose.
So, why am I thankful for a fifteen-foot desk, and a strong east wind? The desk supports green plants that were gifts from loving family and friends, and my perpetual piles of projects in progress. (A little too much alliteration, possibly?)
I've got library books to read for the comparative analysis for my book proposal, writing craft books, materials from a course my church is offering, and hand scribbled sheets of score paper that may some day really be a song. There's also a Toastmaster speech I must prepare.
I'll be the first to admit that the stacks look a fright, but my favorite college professor once scolded me, saying: "God did not create you to be bored." It all means that I know people, and interact with them. Most of them seem to enjoy my company, despite my physical limitations.
I'm thankful that I'm capable of completing each project. Some may take more attempts than others, or some assistance from others, but I am not helpless.
Yes, I weary of the repetition of some chores, dish-washing and cooking most specifically, but I've learned to stand in the middle of my kitchen, and deliberately give thanks aloud for having food in the refrigerator to cook, electricity to operate the refrigerator, a stove to cook on, pans to cook in, and table ware to eat from. If by then my grumpy mood hasn't faded, I go on with my vocal thanks for any other area in my home or on my schedule where I have incomplete work.
You see, I've lived in close proximity to the mental and spiritual poison of critical complaining, and I don't enjoy the changes that can make in me. Since attitudes are so catching, and I've had my previous experience, I choose now to approach my life through the question: "What did you thank God for, today?"
Oh, that strong east wind? It's been making my wind chime ring continuously, and it's blowing in snow that will eventually make a photography opportunity.
Monday, February 1, 2010
This Thursday's Child
I've got a long way to go, and sometimes it feels like I've just missed the bus or the plane connection. Still, feet and fingertips were invented first. By God, who knows his plans from beginning to end. I'm an adult, and I'm sure that on the day of my birth there weren't many who thought my reaching maturity would happen.
During the last fifty-two years, I've overcome a birth weight of barely over two pounds, and have learned to cope with spastic cerebral palsy.
Where my physical coordination is lacking, God gave me an affinity for words.
For a little while, I considered titling this blog Writing My Way Out of My Glass Box, but that's wordy, and not too memorable. My Glass Box was already taken. The current title, Sunny Lane Musings, suits the outlook I'd like this blog to have.
During the last fifty-two years, I've overcome a birth weight of barely over two pounds, and have learned to cope with spastic cerebral palsy.
Where my physical coordination is lacking, God gave me an affinity for words.
For a little while, I considered titling this blog Writing My Way Out of My Glass Box, but that's wordy, and not too memorable. My Glass Box was already taken. The current title, Sunny Lane Musings, suits the outlook I'd like this blog to have.
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