Margaret McSweeney's Blog, page 16

New Year’s Resolutions

Every year many of us ring in the upcoming year with a list of resolutions. It always seemed a little hokey, making a promise to do something one needs to do anyway such as get fit, clean out closets and finish projects. What if the resolution was more than just a “To Do” list? What if not only the behavior changed but the vision? Rather than solutions to improving  my own life, there was a new vision in how I can be used by God.

How about…

drawing closer to God in prayer?

using quiet time to actually be quiet and listen?

tithing time and talents, not just money?

spending time with those in need?

turning off my phone and computer more often to focus on family and friends?

creating more margin for all of us, an even less cluttered family calendar?

Instead of just a “To Do” list each day, add a “To Be” list. How can I be the person the Lord has called me to be to everyone I cross paths with daily? Who needs me to be present? Who needs me to listen? How can I be more patient, forgiving, understanding, …? And the list goes on and on.

A new year, a time for new beginnings. My prayer is to be the best I can be for the glory of God. What’s your new “To Be” vision for 2014?

Happy New Year! May God bless you and yours abundantly in 2014!

What are your New Year's goals? @Grit_Grace @BeckyDanielson1
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What If He Overheard You?

Early marriage seemed to bring all of Matt’s flaws to the top–flaws I hadn’t been aware of until he became my permanent roommate (like hanging the towel with the tag showing or his loud proclamation that the whole bed was his side).

It became so easy to get with the girlfriends and spout my grievances.

Complaining. Complaining. Complaining.

One day I had this thought, What if he were to walk by when I didn’t know it and were to hear what I was saying about him?  

I would be crushed if my fine man were to hear me verbally parading my petty complaints about him.

So I stopped. I just stopped saying anything bad about him and started saying all the good stuff. There was plenty of that to talk about.

I spoke words I would be proud for him to hear if he were to walk by.

It took practice. Whining comes much more easily to the tongue.

Say the good things. Say the good things. 

Paul says, “Do not let any unwholesome talk come out of your mouths, but only what is helpful for building others up according to their needs, that it may benefit those who listen.” (Ephesians 4:29 NIV)

It’s possible to build a guy up even when he’s not in the room. 

Applauding one’s spouse.

It does not come naturally.

But happy is the wife who learns the art of praising her husband in public. Really, isn’t there a bucketful of good to say?

Can you list 10 things you appreciate about your husband?

Here’s my list…

10 Things I Love about My Man

He takes me to lunch and lets me talk and talk and talk and talk and talk and talk.
He vacuums when I ask.
Little kids adore him.
So do old people and not so old people.
He tells me the day he doesn’t have time to listen to my problems is the day he quits his job.
He does great sound effects.
He’s always happy as long as I keep the Fun Pops stocked in the freezer.
He’s a rescue hero, counseling people in any crisis.
He sings tenor like no other.
In the middle of winter he lays down on my side of the bed to get it warm for me.

Happy is the wife that learns the art of praising her husband in public @Grit_Grace @Christy_Fitz
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The Good New Days

 

People love their stories, especially those about ‘the good old days.’  There’s even a magazine called Good Old Days. Nothing wrong with bygones, nostalgia, looking back—unless you get stuck there.  Many do. They start living in the past and neglect the good new days that are here to enjoy.

If you look back more often than you look forward, it might be time to consider what you’re missing. Leslie Alderman in her article, “Get Happy,” published in Real Simple magazine (September, 2005), reminds readers that happiness (including having fun) brings its own reward.  “. . .it feels good–but it has another benefit:  it’s great for your health.”

Researchers who study the science of happiness, according to Alderman’s report,  have found that “happier people live longer, have stronger immune systems, and are more resilient to stress than their less sanguine counterparts.”

What are some of the simple things you can do to make the most of the good new days? To have more fun, more pleasure, more relaxation?  Start by making subtle changes in your daily life. Keep your to-do list under control. You don’t need to vacuum every day. You could change your linens twice a month instead of once a week. Cut down your volunteer activities. Which one do you really enjoy? Focus on that and let the others go.

Make sure you have plenty of ‘funshine’ in your life each day. Do at least one thing that makes you happy. Don’t let other people manipulate you into doing what is fun for them—at your expense. Treat yourself as a loving friend.

If you want to take a nap, go for it.  If you love to walk your dog and chat with people you meet along the way, do that.  If, like Margaret, your pleasure comes from sewing, then turn on your machine at least a few hours a week and pull out the fabric. If that means letting the dishes slide or your bed go unmade for a few hours, so be it.  Fun is as important as a tidy kitchen or beautiful bedroom.

If you relax with classical music or a good book or find pleasure in pruning your roses and arranging a bouquet, choose that, and make it an essential part of your routine.  Spending time with people you love, laughing, walking, keeping up with a hobby, are just a few simple ways to help yourself remain interested in the good new days and to remain interesting to others.

As one woman said to her husband who focuses on watching movies and reading books about World War II, “The war is over and we won!  Now let’s go dancing.”

I’m with her.  We can learn from the past. We can be grateful for it. But we’re here now and it’s time to step into the present and be part of it.

Right now, jot down ten things you can do to add more fun to your life.  Here are some ideas to consider.
Enroll in an art or writing class even if you’re unsure of your talent. You might be surprised.
Prepare a picnic with a friend, spouse, or grandchild.  Bring a ball and a Frisbee.
Join the YMCA or a local gym. Choose an exercise class that sounds like fun.
Take out four books from the local library and read one each week this month.
Climb into bed earlier than usual. Listen to some music and just breathe.
Make a pot of tea or a pitcher of lemonade. Sit in the yard, sip, and relax.
Invite a friend to join you for a concert, lecture, or tour of a museum.
Join a hiking, bird-watching, or flower club and get close to nature.
Plan a trip to a place you’ve always wanted to see.
Buy yourself a single rose every Friday.

Raise your happiness quotient by including fun in your life—regardless of how you were raised, the messages you received about ‘work’ when you were young, your current age, what others think or say.  It’s your life—God’s gift to you—to respect, cherish, and live in the moment. These are the good new days. And they are yours to enjoy.

Make sure you have plenty of 'funshine' in your life each day. @MargaretMcSweeney @KarenOconnor #fun
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A Village Christmas

 

A village Christmas. I could never have imagined it would be the way it turned out to be. Mind you, I knew going into it that it was to be a blind acceptance of an unknown to-come. I could not have predicted how five days in a remote village could be. And, frankly, it was with a good deal of trepidation that I stepped out of my comfort zones to do this. For one, I was out of my technology comfort zone—for one who is normally internet reliant for all manner of connectedness, no online access for this amount of time would be no small venture.

For two, this would be out of my working comfort zone: I was going into someone else’s work life, basically as a bystander, and letting go of the crutch my working identity typically serves.

Finally, this would be a departure from “comfort zone” in the expected “comfort” level of the word: logistics, such as no indoor plumbing (the closest outhouse was down the hill, past some homes, and back up the hill again), meant any Western idea of comfort was, well, anywhere but here!

But a surprising thing that happened, once I’d had a day or so to get my bearings, was the realization that somewhere deep inside the city-dwelling self I have become, there is a part of me that was shaped by my early village-dwelling existence. I found myself settling happily into the pace of days spent observing toilet installations, playing impromptu games with laughing little ones, and, in the oddest manner imaginable, celebrating Christmas. Christmas Eve began with a discussion over the breakfast table as to how the workday would begin. One project leader had left for a supply run that day, leaving us with a shortage of both supplies and leadership. The suggestion was made to do an alternate task at hand, hiking to the water source for an inspection. The village leader suspected it would take us 5 hours. Since it actually took 4, I later had my own suspicions that he was tacking on a significant chunk of time to allow for an apparently slow female hiker :-). It was, in fact, an arduous climb. For portions if the trek I felt like I was having to dredge up rock-climbing skills (and, alternatively, bottom-sliding skills for the way down). It wasn’t particularly pleasant either, with the sun growing quite warm and the guide warning us against baring skin when in the tall grass. My fear of itchy skin overpowered present discomfort, so I begrudgingly kept my winter jacket zipped up to my chin.

Eventually we made it to the top and inspections were made of the small streams that sufficed as water sources for the village. At one of them, after Peter had spoken with our guide for a bit without figuring out what the exact problem might be, he asked the guide if he could see the other end of the pipe that was directing water from the collection tank down the hill. He held the end up to his mouth, then gave it a forceful blow. When a chunk of mud came out the other end, Peter scooped it out of the holding tank and smiled. “I’m really just a glorified plumber,” he quipped.

On the way back down, once I had determined for myself that I would, in fact, survive this hike, it occurred to me that I should somehow commemorate this as the day it was. I began to quietly hum “Away in a Manger.” Peter heard me and joined in, so I began to sing at a more normal volume. For the rest of the hike, we worked through all the Christmas carols we could think of.

One of my falls came in the middle of a song I tend to get particularly engrossed in. I got up and recovered my bearings, still singing as I did so. “Maybe we should stop singing …” Peter suggested. I insisted that singing had no effect on my hiking abilities and we carried on.

By the time we returned to the village, I was covered with a layer of botanically interesting, but personally undesirable, burrs and prickles of all manner of species. I was dreading the prospect of removal until I realized that, village life being what it is, the process would be relatively painless (no pun intended). As the women laughed at me, and commented on how “li hai” (strong) I was to have finished the hike, the prickle removal was made short work of, with many hands.

That afternoon held more septic tank installation work for much of the village. So though our team had spoken a bit of attempting some sort of nativity play, we were short on both time and energy by the time evening came. At dinner, however, a mention of caroling was made. I almost jumped off my stool as I envisioned the idea. “Why not?” I asked. “Is it appropriate? Can we? … Let’s do it!” So we spent Christmas Eve caroling-going from one village doorstep to the next, and ending each with a “sheng dan jie quai le!” (“Merry Christmas!). Judging from the shy smiles on little faces and the amused grins on big ones, I’m quite certain that some significant Christmas goodwill was spread to all … Or at least to most

Once we had finished and bedtime neared, I began to think about the travel coming the next day. A tear rolled down my face when I spoke out loud the realization that I was sad. Sad to be leaving, so soon, this place that so rapidly stole my heart.

The next morning we left on motorcycles. My backpack strapped to my back and my hands gripping the driver, I think I grinned the whole way down; I was smiling at both my love of motorcycle transport and at the amusing way this ride was commemorating Christmas morning. A motorcycle ride led to a bus ride shared with a tank of live fish and, as I write this, we travel on. On to the next stopping point and then, the next day, on to the next adventure.

“Oh God, what is man that You are mindful of him, and the son of man that You care for him?” (Ps 8:4) …that You are so good as to fill the heart of a woman who wants You, and who wants to want You more?

Be a woman who wants to want God more @Grit_Grace @GraceAnnaJ
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Come on Girl, Put Your Heart into It

After a few hours of fighting the Saturday crowds downtown, I stopped at a soup and sandwich shop to get a bite to eat. I mindlessly watched while they were preparing my food.

A young woman prepared an order for someone else. She lifted the ladle out of the huge pot filled with cream of broccoli soup and poured the soup into a paper bowl. She missed the bowl a little bit, and the creamy soup ran down the outside of the bowl and formed quite a puddle on the tray.

For one second the young woman looked at the mess.

Then she picked up the tray, carried it down to the cash register, and handed it to the woman who had placed the order.

Soup dripping off the bowl.

Soup puddled.

She didn’t care that she was handing a customer a mess. Didn’t care how that quality of service would reflect on the restaurant where she worked.

Didn’t care.

The mother in me came this close to saying something. It was on the tip of my tongue.

You’re not going to hand her that mess, are you?

Are you?

It wasn’t appropriate for me to say something to her, but may I say it to you?

Please care. 

If you’re in school, please turn your pencil over and erase your mistakes instead of scribbling them out and turning in a mess.

If you’re at home, please pick up your wet towel and hang it up on the rack before you leave for the day.

If you’re at work, please wipe the dripping soda off the cup before you put it into the hand of a customer.

“Whatever you do, work at it with all your heart, as working for the Lord, not for men.” (Colossians 3:23 NIV)

Work at it with all your heart.

Maybe the customer will never know you wiped soup off of her tray, but the Lord will know.

The Lord sees and appreciates your work.

Do it for him.

Whatever you do, put your heart into it. @Grit_Grace @Christy_Fitz
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Moving to Survive | Suzanne Field

There is a captivating newspaper photo of a nameless woman taped on my refrigerator. She is moving to save her life.

Almost every day I am drawn to examine her picture. I feel uncomfortable as I wonder about this woman.

In May, my husband and I sold our Kansas City home of many years and sorted all our belongings into categories: sell, give away, pack, store, discard.

We notified everyone we know of our new address in Atlanta as well as new cell phone numbers. We closed numerous accounts: banks, cable TV, utilities, etc. We said heart-felt  good-byes to friends, neighbors, church, and community responsibilities.

We enlisted the help of burly men to muscle a houseful of furniture into the longest moving van I’d ever seen.

My husband and I headed south in a heavily packed, older-model vehicle, I wishing it were newer. During thirteen hours on the road, we indulged in caffeine and fast food, listened to audio books, and enjoyed the scenery.

Upon arrival, we unloaded into a comfortable apartment with every amenity we could hope for. During the next few days, we paid dearly to register our vehicles according to Georgia law and began to visit churches, find new friends, health club, doctors, and stores.

All the while, we called it an adventure.

Back to the woman on my refrigerator.

She walks in a world of hard-packed dirt where countless feet have plodded before her. She carries a good-sized baby in a yellow sling. The baby cranes to peer at what lies ahead, his face anxious. Two dusty little boys that look about ages three and four, walk beside the woman. They have protruding bellies and serious, cherubic faces. Perhaps she is their mother. Perhaps not.

Tied to the woman’s waist is a length of colorful fabric such is common to African women. She is bent forward, her eyes to the ground, lips parted, as if no energy can be spared to close them. Her brow is furrowed.

A webbed band presses taut against her forehead. The band and her shoulders support incredibly high and wide piles of rolled floor mats and worn, canvas tenting. Her left arm reaches high to keep the burden in balance. The other arm encircles the heavy baby.

Hanging from the woman’s back is a bulging duffle. I imagine that it thumps against her with each unsteady step.

There is no moving van in sight. No man. No fast food. No cell phone towers. Up ahead will there be a tree for shade? A bush to squat behind?

I doubt she is thinking adventure.

More likely survival.

A two-lined caption below the picture reads: “Displaced: Refugees flee near Goma, Congo, to escape the deadliest clashes in months between government troops and rebels. A combat force under United Nations command . . .” The words themselves are a crime.

Imagine thousands and thousands of refrigerators, each with a picture of a nameless person who has been forced to flee unspeakable tyranny in his or her own country. The captions might read Syria, Sudan, Rwanda . . .

Circumstances, not unpleasant, have made it clear that we will be moving again very soon. This time to Texas.

As we make our arrangements, I wonder about the woman on my refrigerator.

I wonder about her children.

I wonder about our world.

Suzanne Field, a graduate of the University of Minnesota, has taught English as a Second Language in China, Ukraine and Hawaii. She has been a magazine editor and home-school teacher. Suzanne writes to encourage others to rise above memories and embrace the goodness found in each day. She and her husband have five children and divide their time between Dallas and Hawaii where she is a tutor and mentor. Suzanne’s first novel, The Painted Table, is based on fact and pulls at the heart strings. It was released in December, by Thomas Nelson/Harper Collins.

www.facebook.com/SuzanneFieldThePaint...

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Work Has a Whole Lot to Do With Jesus | Valerie Ackermann

Colossians 3:23 says, “Whatever you do, work at it with all your heart, as working for the Lord, not for men, since you know that you will receive an inheritance from the Lord as a reward. It is the Lord Christ Who you are serving.”

I’m not sure what your work is today. You may be in an office, a kitchen, a janitor’s closet, or a school room. You may be in yoga pants folding a stroller while trying not to spill your groceries all over the parking lot while holding onto a ready to dart toddler. God made us to work in various ways in this world. It is a gift. The opportunity and the ability. If you are a mom, then your approach of your work is taught in every spoken and unspoken way to those little eyes that watch you. In every way we can, our kids need to know that every part of their life matters and is important and affected by a relationship with Jesus. One of these parts which takes up most of our lives is our work. I don’t think there is a person or parent out there who would not recognize the value and importance of working hard. I think however, sometimes we paint it in a light that isn’t how the Bible paints it. We think that work is bad, that getting out of work is good. We can think that our goal is to get through work, so we can do what is ultimately best, which is not working. People point to that in “retirement” (what is that by the way? Are we ever supposed to cease doing things and just rest and become self focused until we are dead-don’t think so). We can dread work and do our best to get out of it.

A key chapter in The God Puzzle is teaching kids the Biblical view of work. God designed it for us, to make us happy and fulfilled and productive before sin entered this world. Sin changed this, and the chance for work to take on this dark cloud. But, in Christ, He came to redeem that which was wrecked. That redeeming starts now for the believer. He redeems our work so that we see its value in His story. He uses us to accomplish His plans and guess how a lot of that happens, in our work.

This redeems even the most “menial” tasks. I quote that because, when Christ is involved, is there any job too menial. If it is all done in obedience to Him, then making sandwiches for the thousandth time as you sip your coffee in your house coat, is redeemed work and can be used to glorify Him in your life. He uses everything we do as we live lives in obedience to Him. So you are not just making sandwiches, you are being faithful to do what He has given you to do at that moment. It is an opportunity to be obedient and faithful to do the thing in front of you unto Him. Fixing a broken arm, making a sandwich, folding the white load out of the dryer. Done as participating fully in the life He has ordained for us. Following in obedience in each moment. We get practiced at this, and as we are faithful, we can look back to a life of serving Him. Is there any higher calling?

Certainly nothing is below us, for Jesus Himself washed feet. He spent time with children. He healed sick people. Certainly nothing we do can we take the credit for, for He is the One who equips us and guides us.

Teaching our kids about work is so important because they learn early on that they have a part in what God is doing. It shows them purpose, that their faith is deeply connected to every part of their life. There is never an end to the work that can be done in a world that needs Jesus. Even a bed ridden elderly person who is bound to a bed can engage in the mountain moving exercise of prayer for others. A child can learn that he or she has a part in cleaning the yard because it is entrusted to the family to take care of. They learn stewardship and that when you can be trusted with a little, you can be trusted with a lot. So sister, your work is not about you only, it’s God using you in all your special abilities to be part of the grand story that points all to Him. Your life and your work when done out of obedience to the One Who gave it, no matter how “menial” we might label it, is of eternal value. Be encouraged as you go now and do your tasks. They point to Him.

Colossians 3:23 says, “Whatever you do, work at it with all your heart, as working for the Lord, not for men, since you know that you will receive an inheritance from the Lord as a reward. It is the Lord Christ Who you are serving.”

Valerie Ackermann has a desire to see parents equipped to teach their children about God at home because there is simply not enough time in Sunday school alone. Seeing the need for a resource that was both theologically deep, yet written in language that speaks to a child and explains the Bible and God in a step-by-step process, she wrote The God Puzzle.

Ackermann is the Director of Children’s Ministries at Parkway Community Church where she is involved with overseeing volunteers, planning and developing programs, and facilitating the classes for Sunday school. She also teaches her own class every Sunday and loves staying in the classroom and on the front line with the kids.

Learn more about The God Puzzle and Valerie Ackermann at www.leadmetoGod.com or via Facebook (LeadMeToGod) and Twitter (valackermann).

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12 Pearls of Christmas Winners!

From all of us at Pearl Girls™, welcome to 2014! We hope you enjoyed the Christmas “Pearls of Wisdom” blog series. (If you missed any of the 12 Pearls click here to read the entire series). And now the moment you’ve all been waiting for . . .

The winners from this year’s 12 Pearls of Christmas:

$15 Starbucks Gift Card – Debbie Garrison Rhoades

Pack of Cynthia Ruchti’s current releases – Michelle Hill

The Heiress of Winterwood – Erica Murray

A Marriage in Middlebury 

Hannah

Shadow Kohler

Sky Sparkle

Return to Me

Sherry Lilly

Jennifer Vaughn-Estrada

Heather Moore Sutter

A Better December

Sherry Blamer

Alison Miller

Veronica Vasquez

Praying for Your Addicted Loved One

Kay Spencer

Whitney Ojeda Durango

Julie McDonough

Get Back Up

Bredna Lowe

Kathy Detweiler

Maria Durst

Shadowed by His Grace

Adrianna Holbrook

Kim Reid

Kelli Wages Schulenberg

18 inch pearl necklace, a sliver Christmas cross ornament and a copy of Aftermath – Lana Bilyy

Please email elizabeth@litfusegroup.com with your mailing address and she’ll get that right out to you!

Be sure to join us in May for our Mother of Pearl blogging series! You’ll be able to post great blog posts on your blog as well as sign up for some wonderful prizes!

Thank you again for entering the contest and to all the authors who tithed their talents! All God’s best to you in 2014!

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Happy New Year!

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What’s So Great About New Anyway?

Every time a year ends and another begins we start to focus on “new”. We make New Years resolutions. We want to find new ways to do things. We desire something different from the shiny new year. But I wonder . . . what’s so great about new anyway? What about instead of new, we try improved?

 I am beginning to think that we spend so much time running after the latest, greatest, newest thing that we are missing out on what we already have. For instance, I cleaned out my closet recently. I found a bunch of things I forgot were buried in there. All of these clothes were old but suddenly, because I had not seen them in a while, they didn’t seem old anymore. Why can’t we do that with our lives? Why don’t we look for the good and maybe forgotten things, like that old recipe we haven’t cooked in so long no one in our family even remembers it. Instead of writing off that relationship, look for what has been good about it. You know, think back on those forgotten moments and remember how great they were. Now carry that into your future encounters.

 Don’t get me wrong. I’m not against new. Like, I love that in the Bible it says God’s mercies are new every morning (Lamentations 3:23 NIV). That is a new I’ll take every day. Why? Because it is perfect, consistent and reliable. And it is improved, absolutely improved. Or what about the new name we’ll be given by God himself. (Revelation 2:17 NIV). I love my name, but a new one that God picks out, Oh that will be a vast improvement. These are things that are new and great! These are the kind of new things I want to focus on. I’m tired of the same old idea of new. It’s so boring and stale. Let’s expand our horizons. Come on . . . try something new

Pearl Girl Marietta Taylor wants to know what's so great about new? @Grit_Grace @RaleighGirl
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