I have a long and hateful history with sewing machines.

When I was a little girl, my mother made my dresses. They were lovely works of art.

I wanted to be the seamstress my mother was.

When I was about 12, I began sewing simple dresses for my baby sister.

I was not then, am not now, and never will be the seamstress my mother was.

I once put in a zipper both upside-down and backward.

As an adult, I have approached sewing machines with trepidation.

For years I didn’t sew anything that required the use of a machine.

I was afraid of it.

I knew I would never sew again unless I obligated myself to do so.

So, I obligated myself.

I invited my 10-year-old granddaughter, Sparkle, over to make a doll dress.

That forced me to uncover the machine, set it up, and test it.

Success!

Sparkle and I made this little dress, and we both felt proud.

No longer does my sewing machine hold me hostage.

I plan to help my seven-year-old granddaughter sew a pillow.

Many of us bow to a fear of something.

Several years ago, I prepared a dinner and took it to a friend who had recently lost his wife.

I instructed him to microwave the food when he was ready to eat it.

“I can’t use the microwave,” he said. “Peggy used it all the time, but I’m afraid of the thing.”

Other people are held hostage by airplanes; deep water; loud, opinionated relatives; elevators; bullies at work; and big life changes.

These things themselves do not make one’s heart palpitate and hands tremble.

It is the fear of them

Fear kept me from my sewing machine for years.

That is what fear does.

It stops us.

Fear of navigating in downtown Indianapolis stops me driving north of Southport Road.

Fear of learning new programs prevents me from fully utilizing my computer.

At one time, I was afraid to speak in front of groups of adults.

I love the English language and relish opportunities to teach it, especially to adult learners.

Muhammad met the mountain when I was offered a position to teach at Indiana Business College in the early 1990s.

My passion for English and my desire to teach came up against my fear of speaking to crowds of adults.

My passion and desire helped me push through my fear.

I taught English grammar and composition to adults for five years.

If I develop enough passion and desire, I will overcome my fear of driving in downtown Indianapolis and of learning new skills on my computer.

When we are afraid of something, we respond in one of three ways:

• We avoid it. (I don’t have to drive in Indy or learn new computer programs.)
• We can get someone else to do it. (Thank goodness for friends and family.)
• We can push past the fear and find a way to do the thing.

Maybe you fear nothing and nobody. If so, good for you.

Most of us don’t live in your world.

If you have a fear that holds you hostage, consider your options.

You have three.

 

I read many “how to” books for writers: How to Start a Blog that People Will Read (Mike Omar), Effective Magazine Writing (Roger Palms), Devoted to Writing (Nancy Robinson Masters), Pray, Write, Grow (Ed Cyzewski), Unleash the Writer Within (Cecil Murphy), and many others.

Amazon was happy to help me amass my impressive libraries, the one on my bookshelf and the one on my Kindle.

Every author offers worthwhile advice.

I discovered one of the most helpful pieces of advice while reading Crafting the Personal Essay by Dinty W. Moore. (I know. I also thought immediately of beef stew.)

On page 151 Moore writes:

Most writers–beginning and accomplished–are just too hard on themselves. Be hard on your sentences, be hard on your paragraphs, be ceaseless and unrelenting in your revisions, but stop questioning your ability to be a writer. If you put pen to paper, or put electronic words on the page, you are a writer. Let go of that worry and focus on how good a writer you can become.

Many of us, both writers and nonwriters, are too hard on ourselves.

At some point around the age of 16, most of us said, “I’ll never learn to drive a car!” When we became adults, we used more self-defeating language. “I’ll never beat the smoking habit!” “I’ll never get this bedroom painted!”

Many of us have gone on to accomplish things we swore we would never master. Good for us!

But we didn’t accomplish those things by spending our time and energy beating ourselves up and predicting certain failure. We took a driving course; we found experts to help us quit smoking; we kept working on those bedroom walls, taking pleasure in each successful step toward completion.

Sometimes we convince ourselves we have failed at achieving a goal when we never set a goal in the first place.

When I decided I wanted to be a writer, I needed to nail down my own definition of a successful writer.

If I don’t know where I’m going, how will I know when I get there?

This is the way I defined success as a writer.

A successful writer takes pleasure in working with words. She enjoys developing ideas, writing about them, and revising her writing until it meets her standards.

 A successful writer finds outlets so others can read what she writes.

 A successful writer has an audience of readers who enjoy reading what she writes.

 By that definition, I am a successful writer.

Beating myself up and repeatedly telling myself I would never write anything worth reading did nothing toward helping me become a successful writer.

I became a successful writer by:

• Sitting for many hours in a chair in front of my computer and writing, rewriting, revising, editing, proofreading, and rewriting more.
• Doing what was necessary to start a blog and learn how to use it.
• Listening to and observing people to learn what they want to read.

Alternatively, I could choose this definition of “a successful writer.”

A successful writer earns enough money from her work to support her family.

 A successful writer’s work is sought after by reputable publishers. 

 A successful writer gains renown and is recognized wherever she goes.

By that definition, I am not a successful writer.

I must decide which definition, or blending of definitions, satisfies my desire to succeed. No one else can define “success” for me.

If I am satisfied with the first definition, at which I am already successful, I will continue doing what I have been doing, always trying to become better at it.

If I am not satisfied with the first definition of success and want to work toward the second definition, I will need to do research, spend more hours at my computer, enroll in writing classes, hire a writing coach, and give up activities in which I now participate so I can devote that time and energy to writing.

What are you, my reader, telling yourself you will never accomplish? What does success  look like to you?

Be specific and reasonable. Don’t set a nebulous goal like, “I want to travel.” Ask yourself, “Where do I want to go? When do I want to go there? Whom would I like to take with me? How long do I want to stay? How will I pay for the trip?”

Make a written list of steps you must take in order to reach that goal. Then begin working through those steps.

Plan your work and work your plan.

As you make progress, you may need to tweak your goal. Maybe the person you want to go with you does not want to go. Invite someone else to go with you.

If I had set as a goal, “I want to be a successful writer,” but had not defined for myself what “being a successful writer” meant to me, if I had taken no steps toward reaching that goal, and if I had continually told myself I would never become a writer, you would not be reading this blog post today.

Much truth lies in this famous quote by Henry Ford: Whether you think you can, or think you can’t—you’re right.

 

Many people are sick. They are fighting cancer, heart disease, autoimmune conditions, mental illnesses and more. My heart breaks for these people who are suffering some of the worst kinds of Satan’s curses.

Even healthy people suffer occasional bouts of flu or other temporary ailments.

I know people who are not sick but behave as if they are. They milk minor headaches, stomach issues, and pains for all the sympathy they can get.

These people are the adult equivalents of kids who create ways to miss school.

Like truant students, these people pretend to be sick or exaggerate the severity of their ailments to gain something they want: an excuse to miss work or to get out of washing dishes or to shirk their responsibility in a group project. They are deceivers.

No, I am not  qualified to assess people’s health. But I know what I know. I have observed obvious attempts to gain release from fulfilling responsibilities by feigning sickness. I won’t say I have never done it. Shame on me.

Something is not right if I can go for a mani-pedi, shop for clothes or show up for my bowling league, but I am too impaired to go to work, to church, to the school event I agreed to supervise or to the kitchen to bake the pan of lasagna I agreed to provide for the deacons’ luncheon.

God did not call me to manipulate people or situations for my benefit.

Good health is a wonderful blessing, but it comes with obligations.  Healthy people perform the jobs assigned to them.  They get up, dress up and show up every time.

In chapter five of John, Jesus asked an infirm man if he wanted to be well. That seemed at first to be a silly question. But maybe it wasn’t.

Photo by  elizabeth lies on Unsplash 

Photo by  Antonika Chanel on Unsplash

 

I try every day to spend some time in the Word.

Typing that sentence makes me feel like a lame believer, a lazy Christian.

Why would one of God’s elect have to “try to spend some time in the Word” everyday? Why isn’t that priority number one?

Because we are busy. We are pulled in many different directions at once by people and situations.

We are distracted. Books, newspapers, television shows, newsfeeds, etc. are all vying for our attention.

We have legitimate obligations like going to work and taking care of our kids.

We are caught up in the trivial. Today I absolutely must do A, B, and C. Tomorrow I will read my Bible.

We follow the course of least resistance. It is easier to do a thousand other things than it is to sit down with a Bible. Studying the Word requires our minds to engage. It is intentional. We won’t stumble into reading Scripture the way we stumble into a casual phone conversation.

We know the goal, daily Bible study, and we know the hinderances to achieving that goal.

We’ve done the head work needed to reach our goal. We need now to do the legwork.

The legwork for me looks like this.

• I choose my study materials.
• I select a place to do my study.
• I dedicate time to spend in the study.

I know myself well and have been at this Bible study thing long enough to know what doesn’t work for me.

Dutifully reading one chapter of the Bible per day does not work for me (Acts, chapter one today; Acts, chapter two tomorrow, etc.). There is little continuity of thought from one day to the next. I read that chapter mostly because I feel that as a Christian, it is my duty.

“Read through the Bible in one year” programs do not work for me. Like determining to read one chapter of the Bible each night before going to bed, reading the assigned passages each day becomes just one more thing on my to-do list.

Attacking a portion of Scripture as if I am writing a doctoral thesis on it also does not work. I have begun Bible studies equipped with several different versions of the Word, a concordance, a Bible dictionary, several commentaries, and a determination to complete a world-class study worthy of the topic at hand. But I soon wear out and wish I had not been quite so ambitious.

Currently, I read each day from a book of devotions. Each devotion includes a passage of Scripture. It focuses upon that scripture and is one-page long. Every devotion is well written and encouraging. This is what I call my “light” reading.

I read one selection from Oswald Chambers’ My Utmost for His Highest. If you are familiar with this scholar, you already know his writings are anything but light. Chambers’ pieces are Scripture-based and challenging.

I then write in a notebook one thought from my day’s reading. Somehow, I don’t feel I’ve really studied if I don’t write anything down.

Is this the best way to spend time in the Word each day? Probably not. Could I do more? Probably.

But this study is doable, and it helps me in my daily walk.

Do you want to develop a daily Bible study habit?

You can accomplish that goal. Design a plan that works for you and then make it happen.

 

Thank you to Jan Thompson for buying this devotional book for me. Consider buying something similar for you and one for a friend.

P.S. It is okay to begin reading mid-year.

 

 

I have had a nasty cold. For the past three days I have coughed so hard I thought I would rip my throat open. I’ve seen the doctor now and am on my way to recovery.

Thursday night I stayed awake all night coughing uncontrollably.

In the past if I had missed a full night of sleep, I would have had to get up the next morning at the usual time and either start taking care of my kids or start making arrangements to miss work.

Last Friday when I got up, exhausted, the only pressing responsibility on my mind was making an appointment to see a doctor.

This is the best thing about being retired: Fewer have-to’s.

Yes, I had other activities planned for the day. I was scheduled to babysit my sweet little eight-month-old granddaughter (I’ll call her Glitter.) for several hours in the afternoon.

Though I hated doing it, I called Glitter’s parents and told them I could not babysit.

Years ago, I would have been the person receiving the “sorry-but-I-can’t-babysit” call, not the one making the call. Though the last minute change was inconvenient for my son and daughter-in-law, they rolled with it, as all good parents roll with unexpected events..

I am called upon to do much less “rolling with it” today than I once was. My obligations are fewer and less important. What once were pressing obligations to a job or to a growing family are now volunteer activities and lunches with friends.

I lived my whole life in order to get to this point, and it is nice.

But it came at a price. I did my share of changing diapers, settling arguments, administering medicines, scheduling play dates, hosting birthday parties, and picnicking among bees.

Though it was difficult at the time, I am glad to have had those days. A mom is eternally love-bonded to the child she nursed through three months of colic.

Those days allowed me to feel a love so intense I thought I might die every time I looked at the faces of my sleeping children.

I am thankful for the sacrifices that brought me through those days, thankful that I persevered, improvised, finagled, and wrestled my way to where I am today.

Those past days grew me up. They revealed to me strengths I didn’t know I had. They showed me that I could, when called upon, be unselfish and strong. They proved to me that “Oh, yes, I can.”

And those days went a long way toward making me who I am today: a woman with a degree of maturity, accomplishment, and confidence she might not otherwise have achieved. A woman who is now freer to do what she wants to do. A woman who is tired, but in a restful way.

Yes, retirement is good. But it is good because of the days that came before.

So, if you are in the throes of diaper changing and all that comes after that, stay the course. You will never be sorry you did.

Then, when you are where I am today, you’ll be grateful for the freedom that comes with fewer responsibilities. You will enjoy carefree lunches with friends where you will talk about little else but the days that brought you here.

Like most people, I have trouble carrying through with good intentions. My problem rarely is ignorance (not knowing what to do). Rather, my problem is inactivity (not doing what I know to do).

Gaining knowledge of what I should do is easy. A quick look around my house tells me what I need to do in terms of housework. I can search the Internet or see a doctor to learn dos and don’ts for caring for my body. Usually I have only to ask my family members and friends to know how I can help them. I can read the Bible to know what God asks of me.

Acting upon that gained knowledge is the hard part.

My natural tendency is, like water, to follow the course of least resistance. I see Hershey Kisses and I eat freely. I sit on the couch and work crossword puzzles half of the day. I leave dinner dishes to be washed in the morning. Daily time spent in the Word is hit or miss.

Doing whatever is easiest rarely means doing what is best. Often it means doing nothing.

Just as the cure for hunger is eating and the cure for tiredness is getting rest, the cure for inactivity is becoming active. Becoming active always requires effort.

Failing to put forth effort results in many unpleasant consequences. Your house gets out-of-control messy. Your weight increases and the state of your health declines. Personal relationships grow weaker and fewer. The intensity of your spiritual life dwindles, and what is commonly referred to as your “quality of life” starts to stink.

Thus, all of us face this decision: Will I follow the path of least resistance and pay the penalties that ensue, or will I put forth the effort required for living the life I want to live?

Many people try to do both. They laze their way through days, weeks, and months until they become miserable enough to be motivated to become active. Then they put forth effort for a while until they get tired and gradually slip into inactivity again.

This is no way to live.

But neither is a life of constant activity a good way to live. Balance is needed.

This is what balance looks like for me. My house is reasonably clean (not immaculate), I am eating, sleeping, and exercising reasonably (not focusing solely on one), my friends and family members are close but not suffocating me (I need some alone time.), and God’s peace indwells me (I am experiencing joy, not guilt.)

Maintaining this balance requires me to establish good habits. Good habits ensure that I give proper attention to my body, to my relationships with other people, to my house and other responsibilities, and to my Christian walk.

I compare myself to a high-wire walker. He reaches his destination safely but not without making adjustments along the way.

Like the tightrope walker, I usually know when I am veering off course. The sooner I make adjustments, the sooner I am back to where I want to be.

If a tightrope walker follows the path of least resistance, he will hit the ground. Figuratively speaking, the same is true for me.