Gethsemane

Gethsemane

Written on Easter weekend, April 11, 2020. The thoughts were brewing on Good Friday.

Upon seeing a friend’s post of her picture of visiting the Garden of Gethsemane and her experience while being there – having an emotional realization – this is where Jesus went to pray, and this is where his betrayers came to find him – I reflected on what Jesus’ experience might be like. I also had a revelation…

Jesus went with a few of his closest disciples, his friends, to the garden to pray. I imagine the garden would be dimly lit from the moon. Likely, they would have seen shadows of trees and shrubs. There may have been an eerie feeling, or maybe more of a heavy feeling. It was probably a garden they knew well, so they knew where to go for some privacy. Jesus asked his friends to stay awake and watch while he moved a little further into the garden to pray on his own. I would venture, to also grieve. Grieve what he knew he would be losing. To grieve for the loss his friends and disciples would experience. To grieve for those who don’t understand. And to beg God that there would be another way. Jesus knew what was going to happen. Yet, he didn’t know exactly what the experience would be like. In the midst of knowing what was to happen, there was uncertainty. He pleaded with God to ‘take the cup’ from him if it was possible…. And, he was able to say, “not what I will, but what you will”. That takes courage. And faith to know that, even though he was about to go through the worst experience possible, it would, in the end, be for the best. It would be fulfilling his purpose.

Mark 14:36 ³⁶ And he said, “Abba, Father, all things are possible for you. Remove this cup from me. Yet not what I will, but what you will.”

In the days preceding the night of anguish at Gethsemane, Jesus was letting his disciples know his time was nearing the end. Meanwhile, Jesus knew his disciple Judas had betrayed him. He also knew his dear friend and disciple Peter would deny knowing Jesus and told him so (to which Peter denied this would ever happen – and then denied knowing Jesus 3x before Jesus even died). Jesus and his disciples celebrated Passover and broke bread together. This is when Jesus shared the famous words, “This is my blood of the^[c] covenant, which is poured out for many. ²⁵ Truly, I say to you, I will not drink again of the fruit of the vine until that day when I drink it new in the kingdom of God.”

Fast forward to today. A time in our lives where things are uncertain. We are living in the midst of a worldwide pandemic – that may well have affected my father. That, according to worst possible projections for our province, one in three people will become infected, and with the best possible projections, much less but still a lot of people. In Canada, the worst possible scenario would lead to hundreds of thousands of deaths. The hope is only a few thousand.

Add to that, our own uncertain future. We never know the future, but we know tough times are ahead.

My husband lost his job for “undisclosed reasons”. That being said, will he be able to do what he is passionate about? Or will he need to do something that is “just a job” until the right thing comes along? Will he be able to tap into his creative juices and get back to making things again? And to mentor youth, and for those at risk of homelessness, be able to do something about preventing homelessness from even happening? I long to see him in a role where he is using his full potential and where it is evident to all this is where he should be. Also, my husband recently was informed he has something on his lung. It could have been there for years or could have been a result of his work-related injury last summer. Or it could be a new thing.

And what about our dad? Dad is in the hospital with a lot of medical issues going on – his kidneys aren’t working and he requires dialysis 3x per week, he has pneumonia plus one or two other infections. He is physically weak. He has taken a turn for the worse health-wise today. He is currently delirious (confused, having a hard time being able to process information) due to the infections. He is on some very strong medications and he is also immunocompromised. We hope and pray he will survive and get strong and healthier again. His cancer is not curable, but when he was diagnosed, doctors were hopeful he would still live a fulfilling life. However, we also know that everyone passes away when it is their time. This is an unknown for us, and something that is hard to think about.

I have been experiencing increased stress at work (although in some ways, working from home right now due to the COVID-19 pandemic has resulted in somewhat less stress and much less physical pain – likely a notable contributor to the stress I was experiencing). I have felt unappreciated, taken for granted, and misunderstood. I have also been feeling like it’s time to move on or to shift my role in some way. But to what or where? I’d love to tap back into my private practice and run some journaling groups to help people process what’s going on for them. I’d love to bring creativity and artwork to clients. I’d love to help people live well in all aspects. I’d love to do more teaching, research, and workshops. Is there a way to shift to the world of academia? Or a mix of academia and clinical practice? Is this the time? And if not, are we financially able to handle a period of time where my income is notably lower, especially if we need to move to Manitoba to be more of a support to family and so Kevin can get work in an area that God has called him. While I have significantly more experience now than when I lived in Manitoba before, it was extremely difficult for me to get work there. Stigma around disability was a big factor, with employers outright telling me that I didn’t deserve to get as much as someone without a disability or letting me go before I even started my shift when they saw me in person. I got a job via telephone interview, disclosed my disability, was still hired, but upon driving 5 hours and meeting them in person, I was told the job was given to someone else. I believe society has shifted in this regard. However, to what degree, in general, has this shift occurred?

The thought of living in Manitoba again is somewhat scary for me as well. The winter conditions have not been favourable to my health. My bones break easily if I slip and fall. The spring conditions are not good for my allergies. I know from experience, going back to a place I lived before comes with unrealistic expectations – hoping for the good things from before and knowing that things are different and will never be the same. Employment wise, I did best when I was self-employed. I controlled my hours and I advertised for clients. I had neat shorter-term positions I enjoyed like doing some teaching and research work. Living further away from family helped me develop perspective and forced me to take better care of myself. I was bullied a lot in my younger years by people in school and in the neighbourhood and, aside from a few folks, I have very few friends who still live in the Steinbach area where my family lives. Much of my growing up, most of my friends only were ‘friends’ with me when it was to their advantage – staying inside when it was cold out, their ‘current’ friends no longer wanted to be friends with them, etc. To me, Steinbach and area have been a place of pain for me, so the thought of moving to that area scares me a lot. Winnipeg has felt like home and was where I first worked towards being independent. Either way, this time if we move to Manitoba, I would be starting all over with my husband and we would be finding our new way there. Which is exciting in some ways. It’s also something we’ve never done together and will, inevitably, have some challenges along the way, as life always does. (Note this is not a negative statement).

And on the smaller end of things, but still important, if we move, are we able to take our dog with us that we have bonded with? A dog that has experienced significant trauma before we adopted her. She has also bonded with our downstairs housemates, as have we. They are like family to us and have been for the past few years. When our blood families were not able to be here for us, they were and continue to be. Leaving a family that has seen the good and bad from our past couple of years is hard for me to process. We have also developed some close friendships in Calgary. It is hard to think about saying good-bye. Yet, I’ve done that before and the relationships that matter stick. I have had the blessing of living in many different places and built friendships with people I still connect with – across the world. I can truly say I have friends that live from one end of the earth to the other. I am able to deal with the ‘good-byes’ when I see God leading in another direction.

So what can I learn from Jesus in Gethsemane?

• It’s ok to ask God to ‘take this cup’ from us – with the caveat – “Not my will, but yours be done”.  On the flip side, what is the possible outcome if that ‘cup’ is taken from us? Are the outcomes actually worse? I need to trust that God’s will is the best outcome.
• It’s important to pray, to seek God’s will … and to tell God how I feel.
•  It’s ok to be going through a hard time.
•  It’s important to have some time alone.
•  It’s important to lean on dear friends.
•  Ultimately, it is important to follow through with my purpose – whatever that is. Maybe I need to figure out what that is, or maybe I know what it is and need to explore a little deeper to bring that to the surface. Maybe that means keeping on going until that is revealed.

Bottom line, I know that God is in control and I need to rest in that. I know that we’ve been feeling like we have been at a transition point for some time now. Maybe it’s an opportunity to look forward to what is to come.

Mother's Day

Just a note - this entry will likely ebb and flow - hopefully it connects somehow for you.

Mother's Day is sometimes hard for me. I live far from my mother and I have no 'surrogate mothers' here in Calgary. I also am single, am not a mother, and don't know if I'll ever be. I long for a young child to put his or her arms around me and say "I love you mommy" but the older I get, the less likely that possibility seems to be. Also, I don't know whether my body could handle pregnancy and giving birth so it may not be an option for me anyway. And these days, adoption is so very expensive. I know others who have been denied adoption for various reasons, and my physical limitations could well be a factor against me.

Within Christian communities, it is so hard being single. Families are glorified. Singles fade into the background. Being single and also not a mother creates even more divides. Mothers talk about their children, and so often, young mothers in particular just do not know how to talk about anything else (or so my experience has been). My life seems to have no relevance to theirs. I love their children. Love that they come to hug me, or to say hi to me. The conversations with the mothers often seem so stilted and that is frustrating for me. In my own family, I don't feel that way. My nieces and nephews love me and I love them. They seem to look forward to seeing me and spending time with me. I am thankful for that.

I believe mothers should be honoured. I also wonder how such a day as Mother's Day affects those who have lost their children, have lost their mother, or have never had the opportunity to be a mother? I think most of us have a maternal instinct in us - whether that is towards our own children, for others' children, or a mentoring or mothering instinct in general. So I approach mother's day with mixed feelings. I want to honour the mothers that are part of my life. I also feel for those who hurt on mother's day - whether that be from experiencing losses, having strained relationships that are highlighted on such a day, or those who long for having a child of their own. Also, I relate to the awkwardness that is Mother's Day - the questions about when someone will become a mother, or the awkward parts in a church service where all the moms are asked to stand up and are honoured with a flower while all the non-moms (whether that be moms who have lost a child, or those who want children, or a myriad of other situations), or being in a situation where your mom is far across the country and you have no mom to spend the day with, or where you've lost your own mother. It is just a messy day for so many people. Again, that is not to say mothers should not be honoured!

I am a mother in my own ways. I am a god-mother to a beautiful girl. I have nieces and nephews who are a big part of my life, even though there is geographical distance in between. Children at church love to come say hi and my friends' kids also seem to connect well with me. And maybe someone out there sees me as a mentor or sorts.

Here is a blessing I came across on another blog, quoted from http://timewarpwife.com/?p=3120,  that really touched me today. Hopefully one of my readers will also be blessed as you read. This blessing is something I wish all pastors would read in church on Mother's Day and that others would also read - this is not just about church. It acknowledges the spectrum of mothering.

To those who gave birth to their first child - we celebrate with you.
To those who lost a child this year - we mourn with you.
To those who are in the trenches with little ones every day and wear the badge of food stains - we appreciate you.
To those who experience loss through miscarriage, failed adoptions, or running away - we mourn with you.
To those who walk the hard path of infertility, fraught with pokes, prods, tears and disappointment - we walk with you. Forgive us when we say foolish things. We don't mean to make this harder than it is.
To those who are foster moms, mentor moms, and spiritual moms - we need you.
To those who have warm and close relationships with children - we celebrate with you.
To those who have disappointment, heart ache, and distance from your children - we sit with you.
To those who lost their mothers this year - we grieve with you.
To those who experienced abuse at the hands of your own mother - we acknowledge your own experience.
To those who lived through driving tests, medical tests, and the overall testing of motherhood - we are better for having you in our midst.
To those who are single and long to be married and mothering your own children - we mourn that life has not turned out the way you longed for it to be.
To those who step-parent - we walk with you on those complex paths.
To those who envisioned lavishing love on grandchildren - yet that dream was not meant to be, we grieve with you.
To those who will have emptier nests in the coming year - we grieve and rejoice with you.
To those who placed children up for adoption - we commend you for your selflessness and remember how you hold that child in your heart.
And to those who are pregnant with new life, both expected and surprising - we anticipate with you.
This Mother's Day, we walk with you. Mothering is not for the faint of heart and we have real warriors in our midst. We remember you.

To those who are in the trenches with little ones every day and wear the badge of food stains – we appreciate you
To those who experienced loss through miscarriage, failed adoptions, or running away—we mourn with you
To those who walk the hard path of infertility, fraught with pokes, prods, tears, and disappointment – we walk with you. Forgive us when we say foolish things. We don’t mean to make this harder than it is.
To those who are foster moms, mentor moms, and spiritual moms – we need you
To those who have warm and close relationships with your children – we celebrate with you
To those who have disappointment, heart ache, and distance with your children – we sit with you
To those who lost their mothers this year – we grieve with you
To those who experienced abuse at the hands of your own mother – we acknowledge your experience
To those who lived through driving tests, medical tests, and the overall testing of motherhood – we are better for having you in our midst
To those who are single and long to be married and mothering your own children – we mourn that life has not turned out the way you longed for it to be
To those who step-parent – we walk with you on these complex paths
To those who envisioned lavishing love on grandchildren -yet that dream is not to be, we grieve with you
To those who will have emptier nests in the upcoming year – we grieve and rejoice with you
To those who placed children up for adoption — we commend you for your selflessness and remember how you hold that child in your heart
And to those who are pregnant with new life, both expected and surprising –we anticipate with you
This Mother’s Day, we walk with you. Mothering is not for the faint of heart and we have real warriors in our midst. We remember you.
- See more at: http://timewarpwife.com/?p=3120#sthash.6BNV0uLu.dpuf

To those who gave birth this year to their first child—we celebrate with you
To those who lost a child this year – we mourn with you
To those who are in the trenches with little ones every day and wear the badge of food stains – we appreciate you
To those who experienced loss through miscarriage, failed adoptions, or running away—we mourn with you
To those who walk the hard path of infertility, fraught with pokes, prods, tears, and disappointment – we walk with you. Forgive us when we say foolish things. We don’t mean to make this harder than it is.
To those who are foster moms, mentor moms, and spiritual moms – we need you
To those who have warm and close relationships with your children – we celebrate with you
To those who have disappointment, heart ache, and distance with your children – we sit with you
To those who lost their mothers this year – we grieve with you
To those who experienced abuse at the hands of your own mother – we acknowledge your experience
To those who lived through driving tests, medical tests, and the overall testing of motherhood – we are better for having you in our midst
To those who are single and long to be married and mothering your own children – we mourn that life has not turned out the way you longed for it to be
To those who step-parent – we walk with you on these complex paths
To those who envisioned lavishing love on grandchildren -yet that dream is not to be, we grieve with you
To those who will have emptier nests in the upcoming year – we grieve and rejoice with you
To those who placed children up for adoption — we commend you for your selflessness and remember how you hold that child in your heart
And to those who are pregnant with new life, both expected and surprising –we anticipate with you
This Mother’s Day, we walk with you. Mothering is not for the faint of heart and we have real warriors in our midst. We remember you.
- See more at: http://timewarpwife.com/?p=3120#sthash.6BNV0uLu.dpuf

Bono link on the difference between grace and karma

In my last post, I shared the lyrics of one of the U2 songs that I love - Grace. A line in the song says "She [Grace] travels outside of karma" and I love that line. Karma says you get what you give. Grace is not logical. It is not based on what you did or didn't do. Grace is love. A quote from a blog I came across today on the difference between grace and karma provides a good description of the difference:

And yet, along comes this idea called Grace to upend all that “As you reap, so will you sow” stuff.  Grace defies reason and logic. Love interrupts, if you like, the consequences of your actions...

So, have a read through of this blog entry of an excerpt from the book Bono on Bono: conversations with Michka Assayas, 2005 (Hodder), Chapter 11.

Visit the blog entry at: http://resistanceandrenewal.net/2014/01/26/bono-on-the-difference-between-grace-and-karma/.

If You've Never Failed, You've Never Lived

If you've never failed, you've never lived. Life = Risk.

Check out this video

Be the Change You Want To Be: Carrots, Eggs or Coffee Beans Movie

"When Adversity knocks on your door, who do you want to be: a carrot, an egg, or coffee beans?" (from video link)

Previously, I posted a written version of this story as an inspirational post. Here is a video telling the same story.


Carrots, Eggs or Coffee Beans Movie: "All of us at one time or another have experienced a difficult situation, had setbacks, or dealt with our share of disappointment. Most things that happen to us on a daily basis we can’t control and I can honestly say (with conviction) that it is not what happens to us that matters but rather, how we choose to respond."

Creation Calls - Video

I came across this video as I was preparing for Salt Factory (Youth Bible study at my church). I'm leading the study tonight and the topic is God's Creativity. The youth will be going to different stations and spending time reflecting and taking note of how wonderfully complex the world is. I love this song and I got goosebumps listening to it. I like how the choir seems to fit so well in this song as well.

Letting Go Is Fearing Less and Loving More

You know, it's funny. Well, not really. Maybe ironic. I'm not sure what the best word is. When I did my drive to and from Manitoba this summer, I came to the realization that I was at a turning point. I don't really know what that turning point is leading to. But I knew change was coming. I also knew that my relationships would change in the next while. That part, I wasn't exactly welcoming. Changes regarding employment was what I was hoping for. I do seem to be getting some work. I also see that having a business will take a huge amount of work and I will need a lot of encouragement along the way to keep it up. Change is an uncomfortable place to be, although at the time when I was doing the long drive, I actually was excited about the change and felt refreshed and ready to go.

Right now, though, I'm feeling a sense of trepidation. Of once again losing the way of life that I have known for the last while. I'm sure some really good things will come of this. It's hard to let go of the way life was, even though aspects of it haven't been the best. Right now, I'm seeing that relationships with so many people in my life are changing. I like the way things were. The places where we were at. The sense of normalcy. The mutual, sometimes unspoken but realized, expectations. But, now, I'm not so sure that was even the case. Or maybe we're in different places. I liked the comfort of knowing I had some regular social plans. Now, I don't have that. With anyone. I miss the one-on-ones. Not that I've lost any relationships. But life seems to bring change and I can't control it.  And I guess we need to roll with the punches. And sometimes, these changes could lead to even stronger relationships. But sometimes it means drifting apart and opening the door for something else or someone else. I don't know which it will be. Which is sad and hard.

I have to believe that there is a purpose in this. Maybe it's to give me the opportunity to meet new people. Or to prepare me for something. I hate it that things have to be difficult to get prepared for another phase in life. The time of transition sucks. And I wonder what that next phase will look like.

At the same time, I know I should look forward to the good things in life. For example, I realized this weekend that in the last few months, I seem to be spending time with people that, a year and a half ago, were hardly in my life at all. If I had even met them.  It's a far cry from spending time mostly with my close-knit Christian circle. Not that some of these people don't share my beliefs or similar beliefs. It's been a few years since I've spent time with people with diverse backgrounds and lifestyles. And, to be honest, if I remember correctly, I talked to God about this -- that I was feeling a little sheltered and that I really felt I wanted me to spread my wings. To get out out of my little bubble. I also felt affirmed in this by him. There's a newness to this. Some unpredictability. But, in a way, a loneliness, as I don't feel very close to anyone right now. It's hard to see some of these friends make some choices that you know are harming them. To remember just to love them. It's different than my close-knit bubble. It's also different from the predictableness I've experienced over the last year and more in my relationships. Maybe that's what I needed then. And, maybe this is where I'm headed now. I don't want to let go of those relationships. Maybe they can grow in an exciting new direction. And maybe I can enjoy both the new and the old. I hope so. Whatever way, I want to be at peace with the new directions in my life and enjoy the present with an element of appreciating what was and looking forward to what is to come.

This weekend, though, I really enjoyed myself. Except for my small group this evening, everyone I spent time with was someone that has really only taken a bigger part in my life over the last while. In this time of change, I hope I do not compromise and make poor choices. I think about this as, this morning, I was not in a good place. I struggled with finding a purpose to even go to church. I was tired. I was discouraged. I wasn't throwing away my faith, but I couldn't think of a single reason why it would be a good idea to go. It felt a bit like a rut without purpose. That's not the way it should be. I ended up going for two reasons - I was up already and I made plans with someone for lunch who was planning to be there (who turned out to not be there). To be honest, I couldn't concentrate and I felt like it was a waste of time being there for the first while. I was happy to be holding my friend's baby who was happily drooling all over me and the chair next to me. Which is probably why I went out to the back of the church to walk around for a bit after the baby got fussy and went back to mum.  I'm glad I went. I ended up having a conversation with someone, during the service actually (while doing my little walk), who seemed to really need to talk. I really couldn't tell you what the service was about although I do remember the passage of scripture that was on the powerpoint. Psalm 139. Today, I think this conversation was my purpose in going.

It's so hard to let go of what I know, though. No, I'm not saying good-bye. But I'm also realizing relationships and circumstances change. There are seasons and fluctuations, even for friendships. Even within those, I've come to realize that although I have concerns at times, people have to make their own choices whether it's good for them or not. My role is to love them the best I can. I guess, who's to say it won't end up good for them? I have to trust that in the end it will. And the reality is, at times I have to concede to the fact I don't have the ability to control the ways things go. Again, the coming and going, the seasons, the fluctations in life. I came across a friend's blog entry today where someone posted a poem by an unknown author that really resonated with this idea and what I've been thinking about lately as a whole. Taking this in another direction, but also something I've been thinking about - this poem is about loving others - but can also be about loving yourself. Taking the attitude of the poem, you are showing love to yourself and acknowledging you really have worth. Here's the poem.

Letting go takes love.
Letting go does not mean to stop caring, it means I can’t take responsibility for someone else.
Letting go is not cutting others off, but the realization I can’t control others.
Letting go is not enabling but allowing others to learn from natural consequences.
Letting go is admitting powerlessness, which means that the outcome is not in my hands.
Letting go is not to try to change or blame another; it is making the most of myself.
Letting go is not to care for, but rather it is caring about others.
Letting go is not to diagnose but to support.
Letting go is not judging others but is allowing them to be a fallible human being.
Letting go refuses to arrange or guarantee results and allows others to make choices that determine their own destinies.
Letting go refuses to protect others from reality but encourages one to face the facts.
Letting go refuses to nag, scold, or argue but instead searches out my own shortcomings and corrects them.
Letting go is not regretting the past but growing and living for the future.
Letting go is fearing less and loving more.
– Author unknown.

My edited version about loving yourself:

Letting go takes love.
Letting go does not mean to stop caring, it means I can’t take responsibility for someone else.
Letting go is not cutting others off, but the realization I can’t control others.
Letting go is not allowing others to enable me but allowing myself to learn from natural consequences.
Letting go is admitting powerlessness, which means that the outcome is not in my hands.
Letting go is not to try to change or blame another; it is making the most of myself.
Letting go is not to care for, but rather it is caring about others.
Letting go is not to be critical about myself but to support and look for the good things.
Letting go is not judging myself but allowing me to be a fallible human being.
Letting go refuses to arrange or guarantee results and allows me to make choices that determine my own destiny.
Letting go refuses to protect myself from reality but encourages me to face the facts.
Letting go refuses to nag, scold, or argue but instead searches out my own shortcomings and corrects them.
Letting go is not regretting the past but growing and living for the future.
Letting go is fearing less and loving more.
– Author Unknown, Revised by Patti Plett

Carrot, Egg and Coffee article (and link)

I came across this article. I'd like to share it with you. I'd like to think I'm the coffee beans in this illustration ... but I can easily see how possible it is to be the egg or the carrots. Click on the article title below for the link to the article - on that page, look for the picture above and click on that link. I couldn't find the author.

Carrot, Egg and Coffee...

A young woman went to her mother and told her about her life and how things were so hard for her. She did not know how she was going to make it and wanted to give up. She was tired of fighting and struggling. It seemed as one problem was solved, a new one arose.

Her mother took her to the kitchen. She filled three pots with water and placed each on a high fire. Soon the pots came to boil. In the first she placed carrots, in the second she placed eggs, and in the last she placed ground coffee beans. She let them sit and boil, without saying a word.

In about twenty minutes she turned off the burners. She fished the carrots out and placed them in a bowl. She pulled the eggs out and placed them in a bowl. Then she ladled the coffee out and placed it in a bowl. Turning to her daughter, she asked, "Tell me what you see."

"Carrots, eggs, and coffee," she replied.

Her mother brought her closer and asked her to feel the carrots. She did and noted that they were soft. The mother then asked the daughter to take an egg and break it. After pulling off the shell, she observed the hard-boiled egg. Finally, the mother asked the daughter to sip the coffee. The daughter smiled, as she tasted its rich aroma.

The daughter then asked, "What does it mean?"

Her mother explained each of the objects had faced the same adversity - boiling water. Each reacted differently.

The carrot went in strong, hard, and unrelenting. However, after being subjected to the boiling water, it softened and became weak.

The egg had been fragile. Its thin outer shell had protected its liquid interior, but after sitting through the boiling water, its inside became hardened.

The ground coffee beans were unique, however. After they were in the boiling water, they had changed the water.

"Which are you?" she asked her daughter. "When adversity knocks on your door, how do you respond? Are you a carrot, an egg or a coffee bean?"

Think of this: Which am I? Am I the carrot that seems strong, but with pain and adversity do I wilt and become soft and lose my strength?

Am I the egg that starts with a malleable heart, but changes with the heat? Did I have a fluid spirit, but after a death, a breakup, a financial hardship or some other trial, have I become hardened and stiff? Does my shell look the same, but on the inside am I bitter and tough with a stiff spirit and hardened heart?

Or am I like the coffee bean? The bean actually changes the hot water, the very circumstance that brings the pain. When the water gets hot, it releases the fragrance and flavor. If you are like the bean, when things are at their worst, you get better and change the situation around you.

When the hour is the darkest and trials are their greatest, do you elevate yourself to another level? How do you handle adversity? Are you a carrot, an egg or a coffee bean?

May you have enough happiness to make you sweet, enough trials to make you strong, enough sorrow to keep you human and enough hope to make you happy.

The happiest of people don't necessarily have the best of everything; they just make the most of everything that comes along their way. The brightest future will always be based on a forgotten past; you can't go forward in life until you let go of your past failures and heartaches.

It's easier to build a child than repair an adult!
This is so true - may we all be COFFEE

It's My Turn

Click on this link to see a story I wrote called It's My Turn about an experience through work. I wrote it a while ago ... last December , maybe January. Shortly after I broke my elbow last December (2007).

I CAN ...

This video is inspirational to me.