Everything Happens for a Reason

Despite the current condition of our relationship, I am very thankful for lessons I learned from my mother. As early as I can remember, she told me I was someone special. From an imperfect beginning was born an amazing young girl who had a very special purpose.  “Everything happens for a reason” was a phrase I heard throughout my life. It became my own mantra. It helped me believe that there was a reason why I always got pink eye just before school picture day, why I was the tallest kid in class until the boys grew armpit hair, why I didn’t know my biological father, and why people who were different could be punished for just being different. I don’t know how it happened, I don’t remember when it happened, but I do know I have always had the faith that there was a greater plan for each of us and we were not privy to the upcoming details.

As I have grown, I have realized that my open thoughts about being special may have insulted a few people through the years. My heart and soul never intended that. Each of us has our own amazing and special purpose in life. It is up to you to find your gift and use it the best way you can. It is up to each of us to help another. Some moments, we are better at using our gifts than others… and indeed, this is all part of the plan. Each event has a lesson for us to learn, a story to be told, a person to prepare. To me, we are all a great big puzzle meant to come together. Each puzzle piece is different, we are not meant to be compared to one another. Each puzzle piece is interdependent on the others to make something complete.

The more I open my mind, the more my perspective changes. Rev. Wright of Union Baptist Church preached a sermon several weeks ago not feeling well and apologized for not being at his best; his words became everlasting wisdom to me that afternoon. He explained that joy is not an emotion or a state of being, but that joy is a simple gift from God. It is a fruit of the spirit and provides overwhelming comfort and contentment that flood’s the soul of the believer (Gal 5:22, Eph 1:12-14, 4:30). It is our belief that gives us the comfort and contentment of joy. Joy, the middle name my mother gave me. Joy, the contentment even in times of sorrow that has allowed me to believe God has placed me right where I need to be. Joy, while it is not always easy, it is what has allowed me to have gratitude for the lessons of my life.

My worship is diverse as is my life. Just this past Sunday, Pastor Katie McKown from Scottsville Baptist Church preached a sermon titled “We Will Not Keep Silent.” She is an amazing storyteller and provides many visual pearls in her lessons. This week, I heard that each of us has an amazing, special purpose, w are all jewels in a crown. As it is written, we are crowns in the hand of the Lord (Isaiah 62:3). Her sermon pulled together and validated “everything happens for a reason” and that reason is that we are all in process. God’s plan, God’s purpose is that we may walk through the storm and walk through the success with the same faithfulness. I believe it is the process that glorifies God.

Tonight I am thankful for the lessons of three people in my life, my mother, Reverend Wright, and Pastor Katie. Sometimes it takes forty years to learn a lesson. This lesson was a forty year process for me. Tonight, the joy in my spirit, the content in my heart, the faith in the process, may they all be glory to God.

Fortieth Birthday Days Away

With my fortieth birthday just a few days away, many people have asked about my progress on THE list: Flying Fabulously into Forty. My answers have been, “I’m not sure” and “I need to check on it” and “I really don’t know.” It’s time I pull up the old blog and check in. As I drove home this evening, I thought about the list. I could barely recall a dozen items from it and certainly not all forty. The lack of service and the twisty, windy nature of Route 20 allowed me to remain deep in thought and resist the temptation of checking my blog from my phone for the drive home. Thirty consecutive minutes of thought, it would have been twenty minutes if it wasn’t so rainy.

As I reflected on the events of the last year I remembered the tutus and tiger ears of the Polar Plunge, the bruises and stitches from Mud Warrior, Thanksgiving in NYC, and the beauty of the Bahamas. I thought about a dozen things that may or may not have been on the list that I said yes to this year. I finally took the leap into graduate school. I went a whole year without dying my hair. I wore a badge that said adjunct faculty. I spent more time with my teenage bestie and a host of friends; old and new. I stopped, I relaxed, and I did nothing. Simple unplanned seconds to long planned adventures; all in the name of being fabulous.

The events of the year were not all fabulous. The forty pounds I hoped to lose, still here. This year, my relationship with my spouse may have had the greatest variety, wax and wane, smile and scream, peak and valley. The hot air balloon ride I listed, never planned the details. Tears, jeers, and fears were shared, hidden, and exploded with my mother leading to the current state of no communication. I neglected my home to enjoy a few others and experiences. I began to put myself first, and sometimes that means someone else is not.

The experiences of this year have all been present for a reason. I have learned from each and every one. Most of all, I have learned that life is never going to stop and wait for you to enjoy it. Life is slipping through our fingers at an amazing rate. I can remember sitting on my Nana’s couch and hearing “Like sands through an hourglass, these are the Days of Our Lives.” Yes, THESE are the days. THESE are the only days we get. The days that the phone is ringing and the laundry is mounding… the days that there is football practice and dinner is late… the days that the kids are sick and the checking account is empty… the days that your husband is cranky, the kids are cranky, and so are you. These are our days. Accept it. Find the joy in it. The list is not complete. The list has created a new perspective. I hope you will join me as I admit not only what is fabulous about forty, but what may not be and how I manage to make it through. J