Tell me what's a-happening

4:35 a.m.

The green glow of these numbers stare me down in the dark as I lay in bed trying to convince myself I AM tired and I WILL go back to sleep.

4:44 a.m.

Not making much headway other than have a brief dream about Jesus and me strolling down a path in the middle a meadow on a mild autumn day. We appeared to be having a very nice conversation, I might add. OK, what is this about?

5:00 a.m.

Thinking about the friends I haven't e-mailed in a while particularly a childhood friend whom I should call since the first anniversary of her mother's death was last Sunday. I remember the first anniversary of my mom's passing and it sucked. On a lighter note, I should contact my "Survivor" friends so we can start talking smart about which contestant will go all the way and which one will get the axe in the next episode.

5:15 a.m.

Drag myself out of bed and decide to let out the dog and feed him, too. Because he's developed a new nasty habit of eating his own feces, we have to watch him very closely while he's outside so, when necessary, we can reel him in like a walleye when he does #2.

And here's the surprise. Here's why I get out of bed from time to time at insane hours of the morning. I step outside with the dog and it's 64 degrees (nice by our standards). The wind is warm and blowing gently. And even though I don't have my contacts in I see that the dark sky is blanketed with stars. Whoa.

The dog does his thing. We go back inside where I feed him and make myself a cup of cappuccino. While the dog is enjoying breakfast I go back outside with my capp, sit on a chair in the middle of our deck and stare at the heavens. It's silent. Not even the birds are awake yet. I soak it in for a while because remembering that the world -- and life -- are marvelous is a rush.

I take a break from my staring and go inside to check on the dog and share this moment with you. He's alright. I'm alright. So I think I'll head back outside. I hope you have a moment like this one soon.

So this is Christmas?

John Lennon poses this question in his song "Happy Christmas (War is Over)." As frenzied as life is nowadays, it's bizarre how some things haven't changed a bit

A war (ooops, according to the President it is a "battle we're waging in Iraq") has families separated by 6,000-plus miles. I have a co-worker whose son is in Iraq; I think about him, his comrades and their family every day. I pray that he comes home safely, and yet every day I walk into work dreading the worst. His deployment appears to be taking its toll on his mother. She has diminished from trim the extremely thin. Her unwavering professional exterior has shown signs of emotional cracking when we ask about her son and assemble a care package for him. Her trembling thanks leaves us all to wonder if we could have done more.

Similarly, this morning in my inbox I found an e-mail from another co-worker asking for prayers. She has a nephew in Iraq and the family has learned that someone in the nephew's unit has been killed. No word on which member though. I can only imagine that the waiting is nearly as painful and the news someone, some family, is about to receive. And so this is Christmas, Christmas for the 133,000 troops deployed in Iraq and their families this year.

Other lyrics are rolling around in my head, too.

"Do You Hear What I Hear?" promises us a Child who will bring us goodness and light. I hadn't thought about the words until today when Bing was singing them on satellite radio. "Goodness." And "Light." "Goodness" I can comprehend, although I can't say that I see it every day but I get what it's supposed to be. But "Light." That one makes me think a little harder. If someone is bringing light I can only presume it's because I'm in the dark (literally and/or figuratively) and/or I need light on my journey to somewhere. I do believe that Christ is The Way, is The Path, to God. So, could it be that Christ figuratively lights the way, the path, in our journey to God???

I guess the promise of "goodness and light" is still ours, we just have to look for it in this life and know that we are guaranteed it in the next.

Fun with words

Ever since I was a little girl, I have always loved words. To no surprise, I was a voracious reader as a child, intrigued with dissecting words like a biologist dissecting a frog.

One word I have always been fascinated by is "elixir." Elixir. Elixir. It's just fun to say. And then I looked up its definition. Whoa! While I was familiar with the first two definitions, the third one blew me away. Was the reason why the word resonated with me?

1. A sweetened aromatic solution of alcohol and water, serving as a vehicle for medicine.
2. 1. See "philosphers' stone."
   2. A substance believed to maintain life indefinitely. Also called elixir of life.
   3. A substance or medicine believed to have the power to cure all ills.
3. An underlying principle.

Today, I offer this thought: be true to yourself. I can't imagine what my life would be like if I had been denied the joy of reading. I can't imagine what I would be like if I didn't give myself permission to do the things that bring me to life, that bring me life. Today, I encourage you to think about what your elixir -- your underlying principle -- is. Then, stick to your elixir. It will be life-giving.

Life With or Without Light

In my part of the world, it has been nearly two weeks since we have seen the sun shine. Call it our very own winter desert.

I hadn't given this sun-drought period much thought until this morning. No matter what radio station, TV station or newspaper I picked up, all were reporting on the sun being a no-show -- again.

Rather than focusing on the negative effect this is having, it has caused me to pause and reflect: How easy it has been to forget how long we have seen the sun. Have we actually taken the sun for granted? What will most of us do the next time the sun breaks loose from the clouds and brightens our day? Like the sun, what else in my life have I taken for granted? And why am I waiting until the circumstances are just right (e.g., the sun is shining) to enjoy the outdoors or the company of a loved one?

Carpe Diem.

Pause and reflect

Feeling hurried?

Who among us doesn't? I see others and myself racing through our days, just trying to stay on top of the ever-growing list of things to do. Projects at work, projects at home. Projects every where. And yet, it seems as though no matter how many tasks we check off the list there remains a certain sense of dissatisfaction. Or is it frustration?

What's that about?

Things are getting done, aren't they?

I suspect that our purpose in life isn't just to get things done. Rather, I prefer to think that life is about being connected to each other, serving each other, and most importantly, taking time to give thanks to all that is given to us by our Creator. It's quality over quanity.

So what is one to do?

Give yourself a gift today. Give yourself 15 minutes to think about small changes you make to your routine that would add quality to your life. Consider a brief walk at sunrise. Or sunset (if you are a nightowl like me). How about a few minutes to silence in your favorite room, or a few minutes with your favorite CD.

Whatever you do, commit yourself to a small change ... something that will give life to you, something that is do-able ... something that, in 12 months, you can look back and say that one small change made your life richer.

Thanks for giving the gift of your time.