Choosing Light

Where were you on the morning of Sept 11, 2001? Do you remember?

I remember. For most of us, that moment will be permanently imprinted in memory: the moment we discovered that America had been betrayed. What did the betrayal feel like to you? Was it personal? Did you feel connected or detached? Were you angry, confused, frightened, sad, depressed, or all of the above?

A friend of mine who works in the mental health field reports that anxiety became rampant in wake of 9/11. She says that anxiety was relatively rare in the days before the terrorist attack and became widespread in the days and years that followed.

Not everyone gave in to terror. Some shelved their worries in a hidden place and buried them for another day. Some chose indifference. Some hardened their hearts. Others turned to faith.

Many chose prayer. A nation that had largely abandoned prayer suddenly became very prayerful…for a time. In a gesture of hope, my neighborhood displayed luminaries. We lit candles, laid them on a bed of sand in a one room paper house, and placed them near the street. A silent glow of unity lit our street against the ugliness of the day, and the shadowy curtain of night.

Things have changed since the day terror knocked on our front door. Security is the new game in town. War is our new neighbor. And for some, a new fear moved in to stay.

Is it a coincidence that ten years later our economy is close to ruin, taxes gnaw hungrily at our paychecks, beefy government fingers poke at every pie, and joblessness lives in the spare bedroom.

We voted for change, but not this change. We hoped for improvement. Government behaves badly, much like a chubby, spoiled, manipulative child. It stamps its feet and cries for its way. It bullies us and kicks us when we’re down.

When I was young, I thought the end of the world was around the next corner. This both thrilled and worried me, for I knew that it would be a great and simultaneously terrible day. Would I grow old enough to finish school? To marry? To be a mother? What kind of world would I introduce my children to?

As a young mother, I stewed about wars and rumors of wars. I wrinkled my forehead over earthquakes in diverse places. I watched for the moon to turn to blood. When I could afford to, I stored food and water and wheat. Lots of wheat. I stored fabric and flashlights. I stored batteries, and candles, and clothes.

I once had a depression coat, a walking to Missouri coat, just in case. It was ugly as sin, but it was sturdy and warm. I knew I would never wear it, unless there was a crisis, yet I clung to it like hope. I knew that it would keep me warm against a dark and sinister nameless storm.

The coat is gone, but I still store food, and also hope, for I have learned that storms are a part of life. The thunder and lightning may frighten me, but I have control. I can choose peace. I can choose gratitude. I can choose faith. The most dangerous storm is the one that rages in my mind. Shall I choose fear or faith? Shall I choose chaos or stillness?

I have learned that most storms pass and that if we are prepared we shall not fear. I have learned that the only true safety lies inside my heart, the hand of my neighbor, the touch of a friend. I have learned that peace lies not in absolute safety but in trust and in my bucket of faith. I have learned to cling to my family, to strengthen my friends, and to share that bucket of faith with those in need.

There are more earthquakes now, and they have moved closer. The voices of war grow louder. Peace is not for sale, but it is abundant even in the growing chaos. Would you like a drink from my bucket of faith? Here, take my hand.

Abundance is mine. Peace, joy, and trust are abundant for those who know where to look.

America has a wonderful way of reinventing itself. We still have a lot going for us. We have a lot to be thankful for. We can make a difference. Be part of the solution. Believe it or not, whining is not a solution. Become the change you long for.

Gather your family. Gather your stores. Gather your courage. Believe. Hope. Trust. Trust in the Lord with all you heart and lean not unto thine own understanding. In all thy ways acknowledge Him and He shall direct thy paths.

9/11/2011. It’s a perfect day for finding peace. Light a candle of faith in your heart and feel the glow of peace. Hold it out against the darkness surrounding you. Refuse to give in to darkness. Choose light. Choose gratitude. Choose abundance.

Count your blessings. Rejoice in abundance. Share your gifts. Strengthen your faith.

Linda Garner

Where's My Paintbrush?

“Beginnings are usually scary and endings are usually sad, but it’s the middle that counts. You have to remember this when you find yourself at the beginning.” Sandra Bullock

I have always loved beginnings. I delight in the start of a new month, the start of a new week, the start of a new year. I get a kick out of a fresh start. I adore mornings. Morning feels like taking a fresh canvas of time and deciding what I will paint on it.

I don’t really do New Years Resolutions, instead I make plans. This year I plan to enjoy myself more. I intend to love more. I plan to connect more. I intend to take better care of myself and my glorious body. I plan to put the disappointments of yesterday behind me and believe in the promise of tomorrow.

This year, I will choose carefully how to spend my gift of time. I will not have time for judging other or for criticism. I will not have time for discouragement or negative thoughts. I will choose to move on when others disappoint me. I will choose forgiveness.

I plan to love myself more completely. I choose to believe in myself and to appreciate my uniqueness. I don’t have to be perfect. I can love myself as I am.

I am planning to see more sunsets, more rainbows, more waterfalls. I am planning to trust more, to give more, to dance more. I am planning to see more, to hear more, to live more.

Life is a curious mix of beginnings, middles, and endings. Today’s beginning signals an end to yesterday. Today is the middle of something. In the middle lie some of Life’s harder choices. Persistence and stamina pay off in the middle, not the end. Today is a beginning, middle, and end. Today brings promise, fueled by choice.

Shall we not embrace the promise? Shall we not believe in choice?

I believe. It’s a New Year. What will I paint on this canvas?

Happy 2011.

Linda Garner

Gifts of Autumn

There is something about autumn, isn’t there? Something earthy, mysterious, thought provoking, brave. Today I look out my window at a smoky autumn sky, watching the last courageous leaves flutter in the wind. Change is in the air.

I love change.

I enjoy retreating inward with my thoughts. I dust off my dreams, caress my emotions, and chat with wandering ideas. I get in touch with the girl I used to be and the vision of my future. It’s feels wonderful to curl up inside my head with a comfy blanket of acceptance and breathe the air of change. Oh, summer was wonderful, and spring delightful, but autumn is a time for reflection.

I love questions. They are so empowering.

Where have I come from? Where I am I going? What do I treasure most? Am I honoring my destiny, my hopes, my dreams? Am I honoring my past and my future? Do I know myself? Am I true to my vision?

Am I caught up in the thick of thin things? Am I creating joy? Am I making a difference?

Autumn has many answers, and I go inside to find them. In that sacred space where only I am allowed, I find myself, stripped of worldly nonsense. On this journey I discover many gifts. Joy, love, peace, warmth, trust, desire, and hope, along with child-like delight and wonder.

Such are the gifts of autumn.

May autumn bring you many gifts. May your heart and home be filled with love…to overflowing.

I send you autumn’s warmth, with love.

Linda Garner

Poor, Poor Hannah

Recently Friend-Husband’s brother Rich, and wife Andrea told us that their 8 year old daughter Hannah loves to write stories.

I was excited. “Really?” I said, “You need to nurture that.”

“Well,” they continued, “There’s a problem.”

“A problem?” I asked.

“Yes, a big problem. She would rather write stories than do her chores. She would rather write stories than clean her room or help out around the house.”

I was shocked. I was aghast. “Oh no,” I wailed. “Tsk. Tsk,” I mourned. “She has it bad, doesn’t she? Poor Poor Hannah.”

“Yes,” they said with heads bowed low.

“Maybe she could marry someone like Friend-Husband, who actually enjoys cleaning house (go figure),” I said hopefully, “but what are the chances?”

We all shook our heads in silence.

“There is one other thing,” I mentioned cautiously.

They looked at me expectantly.

“Shock Therapy” I said.

They looked concerned.

“It’s her only hope,” I whispered. “It’s drastic, though.”

“Tell us more,” they said with hope in their eyes.

“It starts with dinner dishes,” I began.

“Dinner Dishes?” they asked. Now they were excited.

“Exactly. Do not let her anywhere near the dinner dishes.” “Mopping floors is bad,” I continued. “She must not be allowed to sweep or mop floors.” The list continued, “No yardwork. Banish her from bathroom duty. You get the idea."

“What?” Our tearful relatives looked surprised. “Are you sure this will help?”

“Wait, there’s more,” I said. “You must surround her with good books and encourage her to read a lot. Her future is at stake.”

“Read a lot?” they queried.

“Oh, yes, of course, and notebooks. She must have many, many notebooks and pens and pencils of all colors and sizes.”

“Notebooks, pens, pencils?” they wondered.

I nodded solemnly. “A dictionary and thesaurus are a must,” I added. “Believe me, she will soon be begging for mercy. She will be dying to clean toilets.”

“She will?” they asked, with tears in their eyes.

“Absolutely,” I answered, “either that, or…she’ll become a writer.”

Linda Garner

p.s.

I love you, Hannah, and if you haven’t guessed, I’d rather write than clean house, too.

Change The World

It’s a tall order, changing the world. How often have you wished you could do something that will make a difference for someone far away? I know I have. Starving children in Ethiopia; single moms in Calcutta; families surviving in poverty with no chance at education; wouldn’t you love to be there handing out hope.

Kiva is an organization that lends money to entepreneurs in third world countries. You can loan as little as $25. You can choose the recipient of your loan. Synergy is the magic that makes Kiva work. When my $25 joins your $25 and many others contribute their $25, there is enough money to create small miracles. When the loans are repaid, lenders can withdraw their funds or relend to someone else.

Consider Hannah Acquay who lives in Ghana and sells smoked fish from a stand. She buys the fish from local fishermen and then smokes them . She needs $700 to buy more fish. She wants to increase her income so that her four children can be educated. Hannah is 48 and married. She started her business four years ago. She has many customers. Some travel from other regions to buy her fish. Hannah will repay her loan over the next 7 months.

Consider 35 year old Hassane who lives in Southern Lebanon with his wife and child. Hassane has owned a garage for twenty years and works as a car repairman. Hassane has requested a loan of $2000 to buy tools. He is a skilled mechanic who works independently. He wants to expand his business. He will repay his loan over the next 14 months. This will be Hassane’s fourth loan. He has always repaid on time.

Kiva helps hundreds of people like Hassane and Hannah. This week 3,440 new lenders joined Kiva. This week $1,209,625 was loaned to 3,254 entrepreneurs funded by 14,541 lenders. At Kiva a new loan happens every 16 seconds. This is the magic of synergy.

How do you feel about changing the world? Kiva is changing the world, one person at a time. You can change the world too. All you need is $25. Check it out at Kiva.com.

Linda Garner

What Would I Do If I Was Not Afraid?

Fear is in the air we breathe today. We read fear in the newspapers and listen to it on the 5:00 news. We live in tumultuous times. We hear the evidence crashing all around us. The fear is almost tangible. This is more than a personal fear. This is a collective fear. I refuse to participate in the collective fear, for I have fears of my own.

What would I do if I wasn’t afraid? I read this question last week on Michelle Ashman Bell’s blog. I have been turning it over in my mind every since. What would I do if I wasn’t afraid?

Recently I have been on a personal quest to let go of things that no longer serve me. I want to dejunk on every level. I want to let go of clutter in my home, clutter in my life, clutter in my mind, and clutter in my heart. It isn’t easy, for I have been collecting clutter for a very long time. I have bonded with my clutter. I am emotionally attached to my clutter.

When it comes to emotional clutter I have a long list negative emotions I want to get rid of. I want to let go of anger, judgment, greed, envy, doubt, pride, worry—and yes, fear, to name a few. I want them gone. I want to send them packing. These negative emotions have been with me long enough. Oh, they pretended to be my friends, giving me a false sense of security, while all the while nibbling away at my peace and contentment, but it was all for show.

What is fear? Where did it come from? What am I afraid of? What is it costing me to maintain that fear? Who would I be without that fear? These are hard questions for me. Can I examine them without turning myself inside out?

I am only vaguely aware of fear’s shadow in my life. I have pushed him in a small closet and I pretend he isn’t there. I am a good pretender. Still, a shadow is a shadow, and he can be such a nuisance. What would it be like to have him gone? Where do I begin? What tools should I acquire? Do I need a pick-axe, or a scalpel? A sword, or a razor blade?

I have been scoring small victories in my personal battle with fear. They are little things, but they are adding up and that little closet is shrinking. I would like to build something in its place. Perhaps a spacious room called hope. Perhaps a lovely suite with room for trust and confidence. I’m drawing up the plans.

Last week I had the chance of a lifetime. Friends invited us to tour the tabernacle with a friend of theirs who had restored the tabernacle organ. It was not the twenty five cent tour. It was the twenty five dollar tour. We saw things that few ever see. We saw the wind chamber that supplies the temperature and humidity controlled air that feeds the hungry organ. We saw many of the 11,000 pipes that create the amazing sound of the giant instrument. We saw the view from above, below, and behind the organ. For two hours we saw and heard the intimate details of the life of this magestic musical creature. At the end of our tour, I was given the unlikely invitation to play the organ.

Those who know me well, know that I do not play the organ. Let me say that again. I do not play the organ. I have my own reasons, some of which are more reasonable than others. I am on friendly terms with the piano, but I am really uncomfortable playing it in front of people. I teach piano, but I rarely perform. It is so far out of my comfort zone that it is on another planet.

Imagine my dilemma. I have been invited to play the tabernacle organ in front of people. I do not play the organ—not ever. I do not play in front of people—almost never. This is the chance of a lifetime. What would I do if I wasn’t afraid?

Get back shadow. Close that closet door. Close it tight. Lock it. Throw away the key. You are not in charge here.

I am happy to report that I played that organ. I did not shake. I did not clutch. I was not amazing, but I was adequate, and for a moment or two, I was not afraid. I have a photo of my mother playing that same organ. Wouldn't it be fun to place my photo next to hers. We did not have a camera with us to capture my moment, so memory’s camera will suffice. I hope my mother was watching. Perhaps she had something to do with the invitation. It wouldn't surprise me.

What would you do if you were not afraid?

Linda Garner

Let the Healing Begin

I received an early Christmas Gift last week. Brandilyn and I are delighted to announce that our book, Some Secrets Hurt, will be published next year. I cannot stop smiling. I can hardly think of anything else. I invite you to share our joy.

Our book will be published by Shadow Mountain. We anticipate an August release.

Brandilyn and I had a most delightful visit with Chris Schoebinger and Gail Halladay. Chris is the Children’s Book Director and Gail is the Marketing Director. They were completely gracious, and ever so kind and complimentary. They made us feel very special and important.

The most important news is that they love our book. They are excited about marketing it and they feel it will make a difference. That is exactly what we hope for. We have a sense of purpose as we reach out to protect and inform children. Our message will strengthen and empower children and parents.

We are astounded at the growing number of wounded children, who often become wounded adults. Our message to them is one of hope. We ache for them, and we send them our encouragement and love. We hope that our book will strengthen them as they move out of the shadows.

Let the healing begin.

Linda Garner