Gratitude – Page 3 – Andrea Arthur Owan

How to Have a Living Hope (and Not Waste Your Journey)

The prayer chain email I received last Thursday rattled me. Not for the tremendous burden and need the requester noted—which was, indeed, grievous—but for the depth and spiritual maturity of its perspective.

The Christian sister requesting prayer said she had just been diagnosed with a rare and particularly aggressive ovarian cancer. Just being diagnosed with any kind of ovarian cancer is enough to strike terror in the sufferer because ovarian cancer is usually not diagnosed until Stage 4; and the 5-survival rate is around 17%. My own precious cousin, Jan, died of the dreaded disease (after a valiant, grace-filled battle) ten years ago this month while only in her forties.

She’s recovering from surgery to remove large tumors and begins chemotherapy in two and a half weeks. She sounded confident in the family she is blessed with and her “army of supporters.” (Oh, God, that we would all be so blessed when tragedy strikes us!) Because of this support, she says she can make the most of every day that God will grant her.

Then she listed her prayer requests.

First, she wants to remember that God, not she, is in control.

Second, [recognizing] that “God is most interested in what’s happening in the part of me that can’t be touched, scanned, or medicated.”

Last on the list was that she not waste the time she has [left] despairing or seeking comfort about her disease or the outcome. She was bold in her statement:

“I will only waste my journey with cancer if I seek comfort or despair about my odds, rather than look to know what God can do with me.”

She completed her email request by saying she claimed Jesus’ authority and denied Satan [working] in her life.

After reading her email—which I read three times—I sucked in my breath. Hard.

Certainly all of this is probably easier to say before chemotherapy flattens her and leaves her feeling as though she’s been run over by a semi-truck; when the only time she can drag herself out of bed is when she has to maintain a vigil in the bathroom, lying on the cold tile next to the toilet, in wait of having to relieve her stomach of its contents.

When she undergoes the process of being poisoned to death in order to eradicate mutated cells that are already killing her. Before she’s really knee deep into this battle.

I don’t personally know this sister—whether she is, by nature, as stoic and brave as this email sounds. But clearly she has sought the Lord, the Holy Spirit has spoken to her, and she is ready to confront her disease and this potential earthly death sentence with all the strength, faith, grace, and hope of a believer steeped (and believing) in the promises of Jesus Christ and her true, future hope.

She has put this—and life—in true perspective.

And I was awed.

For me, her prayers and requests are powerful enough to warrant writing down and carrying around with me, to pull out and re-read when metaphorical lightning strikes my life, or I am tempted to whine about inconveniences and aggravating hiccups that cause bumps in my road.

And it was a punctuation mark to my earlier reading about Bethel Music founder and pastor Brian Johnson’s battle with and recovery from depression. He described it as going through six months of “hell” and having to be taken to a hospital when he suffered a nervous breakdown.

When the ambulance arrived at his Redding, California, home, he said to his kids: “This is when God becomes real.”

Isn’t that the truth!

The experience prompted him to write the popular worship song “Living Hope.”

And after watching the YouTube video of Bethel Music singing this heart-churner, I thought about some options for inscriptions on my tombstone:

Jesus Christ, My Living Hope

Hallelujah!

The Grave Has No Claim on Me!

It sounds as though this dear sister is already claiming these truths as she faces the biggest battle of her earthly life.

Her hope is built on Jesus Christ and the power of His death and Resurrection.

May it be so for all of us.

I promise that you won’t be able to stay seated long during this song.

And if watching that isn’t enough to get your motor going, here’s a Bethel song bonus: “Raise a Hallelujah.”

(*The journal picture and entry is a photo found on unsplash.com.)

Until next week, no matter what you’re facing, raise your own hallelujah to the Lord!

Blessings,

Andrea


Andrea Arthur Owan is an award-winning inspirational writer, fitness pro and chaplain. She writes and works to help people live their best lives—physically, emotionally, and spiritually.

Positive (Productive) Solitude—How Being Alone Can Make You Happy

A recent Greater Good Science Center on-line magazine article really caught my attention. Although the post’s title, “Three Emerging Insights About Happiness,” could have been a ho-hum trigger, the email subject line snagged me:

“How Being Alone Can Make You Happy.”

I perked up and quickly clicked through.

Why?

Because I tend to like being alone, even though I extol the virtues of socializing.

I know. That sounds disingenuous and a little dishonest. But it’s true.

Let me explain.

Although many people would swear on a Bible that I’m a total extrovert, I’m not. In fact, I’ve taken several personality tests—including one when I entered graduate school eons ago, and another one maybe a handful of years ago—that indicated I was borderline sometimes-extrovert, sometimes-introvert. It just depended upon my mood and the social situation. And it still does.

Maybe my initial college introversion came more from being insecure about whether or not I actually deserved to be attending graduate school where I was; and being downright terrified about whether I had the brains to actually be successful in graduate school.

I loved socializing and could chat up a storm (still can) and can easily and comfortably work my way around and through groups of people. But I grew up an only child and learned to spend a lot of time alone. Spending hours in a gym, working out alone (with just my dad or another coach) simply re-enforced my aloneness. I didn’t always like it, (I often loathed the isolation); and it made it difficult to develop friendships, but I learned and adapted.

As a writer, I spend hours alone in a VERY quiet house every day, except when my Shetland sheepdog Dolly ruins my eardrums barking.

So with all of that in mind, I read the article with tremendous interest, trying to glean insights for those of you who would like to spend time alone, learn to spend time alone, need time alone, and would love to know what benefits you can get from that alone time.

Greater Good Magazine managing editor, Kira Newman, highlighted three main (revelations-to-her) takeaways from her recent excursion to Melbourne, where researchers from over 60 countries gathered for the International Positive Psychology Association’s 6^th World Congress. She said that the findings the researchers shared “added depth and complexity to our understanding of major keys to a flourishing life.”

Newman went on to say that attendees heard about when kindness makes you happier, and when it doesn’t. Now the latter part of that statement in itself—especially with the “Be Kind” movement in full swing—is a revelation for many.

She also noted:

“Researchers also addressed modern obstacles to happiness—from the way we’re hooked on technology to a widespread sense of disconnection and loneliness.”

**Defining positive solitude—**

It is well known that social connection is one of the keys to happiness and longevity. For many, feelings of being separated from others—on the outside or forgotten—equals loneliness and disconnection.

But a group of researchers—Martin Lynch, Sergeyt Ishanov, and Dmitry Leontiev—at Russia’s National Research University Higher School of Economics—have investigated “the phenomenon of positive or ‘productive solitude.’”

Newman asks,

“Does solitude have to be a negative experience? Can time alone feed our well-being?”

She explains that positive, or productive solitude is in contrast with the more unpleasant experience of being alone.

“Productive solitude doesn’t occur because we fell disconnected from others; it’s something that we deliberately seek out.”

Productive or positive solitude is when we use the solitary time not for negative ruminating or feeling sorry for ourselves because we’re alone, but using the time for

Contemplation
Reflection, or
Creativity

In other words, it’s time spent being intentionally productive engaging in something that will enrich your life physically, emotionally, mentally, or spiritually.

The benefits of productive (positive) solitude—

Researchers note that people who practice periods or times of positive solitude tend to feel more positive emotions, like:

Relaxation
Calm
Greater pleasure
Greater meaning
Less of a sense of void in their lives.

Who benefits most from productive (positive) solitude?

It’s not surprising to learn that introverts tend to benefit most from practicing productive solitude. After all, introverts easily tire from too much social stimulation, or having to socialize with large groups of people, and get re-energize with alone time.

But another group also benefits:

Those who enjoy emotional and psychological maturity.

Would you count yourself in that category—an emotionally and psychologically mature person?

That’s one of the primary goals of my website, which hosts this blog—for all of us to grow into emotional, psychological (and spiritual) maturity.

Tips for achieving positive solitude effects—

Deliberately schedule alone time to do something you enjoy, without interruption.
Spend solitary time in a peaceful setting, like nature.
Disconnect from social media, turn off your phone and computer, tuck them away and focus on something else—like prayer, drawing, meditating, stretching, thinking, daydreaming, doodling, coloring. Even cleaning out a room or closet can reap positive solitude rewards, especially if that chaotic space makes it difficult for you to feel peace and tranquility or achieve any type of productivity.

What positive/productive solitude isn’t—

Positive solitude isn’t time spent alone doing regular work or trying to catch up on office demands.

Deterrents to positive solitude—

If you aren’t used to practicing positive solitude, you may find your normally busy or over-stimulated brain challenged, and rebelling. The brain loathes change and habit-correction.

But persevere! It may take you a few attempts (or many) to discover what you’d like to do during your alone time, or determining what activity gives you the most bang-for-your-time buck.

If you must, set up a positive solitude reward. Your choice.
Deliberately schedule alone time for doing something you enjoy.
Think of it as time spent cultivating new attitudes, and growing happier!

Again, persevere!

Happiness gained from positive solitude awaits you!

NEXT WEEK: What does “feeling active” have to do with your happiness factor?

If you have any tips for other readers on how you spend positive solitude time, please share them, so we can grow and explore together!

Until next week, enjoy your solitude.

Blessings,

Andrea


Andrea Arthur Owan is an award-winning inspirational writer, fitness pro and chaplain. She writes and works to help people live their best lives—physically, emotionally, and spiritually.

How to Pursue, Build, and Nourish Friendships

Have you ever met anyone who seems to yack and yack and yack and doesn’t let anyone else get a word in edgewise?

Most of the time they’re usually talking about themselves, their activities (or lack thereof), or their problems. They can be exhausting to listen to.

I’ve had some interactions like that, especially with new acquaintances, people I’ve just met or recently met. On a weeklong writing retreat, I spent much of the week listening to one woman’s life story, (which was quite a story), with all of its pitfalls and sadness; although she frequently interjected words of praise to the Lord and joy and how much she liked to write.

On the last day of the retreat, I sat at the dining room table with her, listening to her tell me—and the other seven writers seated at the table—about more gory life history. When it was time to leave, I said goodbye and started to go. She looked at me and said, “Wow. We have to leave already, and I didn’t even get a chance to talk to you and hear your story.”

The first thought that crossed my mind was Of course not. You were too busy telling yours. I’ve been with you for a week, and you never asked.

I’d been in close proximity and boarding in the same house with her for six days, and not once did she ask me about me, or my life.

The heart of the matter—

She may have just been a talker, but—as much as I tired of her droning and was irked by her assessment—and insinuation that I’d withheld information from her—I sensed something else going on.

This woman was either scared or lonely, which meant she talked incessantly to cover her fear; or people never really listened to her. Or she didn’t have enough close friends that really listened and gave her honest feedback.

That’s where so many of us find ourselves these days—scared and unsure of ourselves around others, especially strangers; or just flat out lonely. Plugged into the Internet or television with no real friends to share life with. Covering up our loneliness with busyness and cramming too much activity into a day. Being pressed on all sides by family and work.

And that’s one of the reasons we’ve been covering friendship building on Meditation Monday blogs for the last month.

Our purpose—

God didn’t put us on this orb and allow us to populate it because we’re supposed to live and go it alone. We need to make connections and share life. At the very least, we are to be Jesus-with-skin-on to others.

This post will give you another idea for building friendships.

Connect or reconnect with old friends—

Having a connection to your past through someone else is important. Someone you grew up with, came of age with, slogged through growing angst with.

I think we intuitively know that and that’s one of the reasons so many in their 40s, 50s and 60s (or older) start looking for “old friends or classmates” and try to reconnect or establish a new friendship through a common bond.

Regretfully, high school friendships dropped off the radar for me some time around the birth of my first child. I’d done a pretty good job of maintaining contacts during college and then beyond, but either busy life or inattentiveness caused my connectedness to whither away. Then the same thing happened to college friends, as we moved on, moved away, and started careers and had children.

I’ve begun rectifying that, with a very close high school friend. (I honestly didn’t have too many really close BFFs. I was too busy swinging from uneven bars and being a gym rat to nurture friendships the way I should. And I realize now that I also had too many hang-ups to be a really good friend. It’s one of my biggest regrets.)

I’ve managed to keep in touch with a friend from my freshman year in college, even though she transferred to another college our sophomore year. She lives up the road from me in the north Phoenix area. We mostly communicate via text message, but sometimes it’s a visit, (I flew to Las Vegas to visit her once, drove to Central California from Southern California another time, and enjoyed her guest bedroom after a Phoenix writing retreat on another).

Even when months slip by, she knows I’m only a phone call away; and we’ve prayed each other through some pretty rough times. And I recently learned that she and her husband are buying a retirement home just minutes up the road from where we bought our retirement lot.

And I count myself blessed that my beloved and I came of age together in college. As my youngest noted the other day: “You and Dad sure have a lot of good stories together!” We do. I only hope I can remember them in another ten, twenty or thirty years!

Tomorrow—Tuesday, August 13—will mark 36 years of married memories and 40 years of significant other memories.

Maintaining or building a friendship—

Regular conversations, cards, text messages go a long way in maintaining a friendship, or even building a new one.

I’ve recounted the story before about an older woman I’d been doing Bible study with calling me not long after the birth of my youngest, which was a difficult, isolating time due to his prematurity and sensitivity issues. I did not hear the phone ring, so her call went to voice mail. When I listened to it, I broke down in grateful heaving sobs.

“Hi Andrea. It’s Louise. I just wanted to let you know I’ve been thinking about you, and if I didn’t call to let you know, you wouldn’t know that.”

What a simple, beautiful call that was to an exhausted, stressed and overwhelmed parent of a new preemie.

I wasn’t alone. Someone was thinking of me.

And now that I’m feeling a little overwhelmed about my mother’s condition and having 100% responsibility for her, her medical care, and her funds, I’m in need of more phone calls like that—calls of empathy and sympathy, especially from people who have walked through this kind of valley. Ones that know what it’s like to care for an aging, dementia-ridden parent that never treated you all that well to begin with and who still communicates with a barbed-wire tongue and combative, screeching decibels.

As one person told me, after she gave me priceless direction on how to set up in-home medical care for my mother: “I totally get what you’re suffering. Other people who haven’t gone through what you’re going through don’t get it. They never will. And don’t expect them to. Talk to people who understand.”

It was a fluke that I’d even connected with this woman on the phone, the owner of the company I needed to contract with, who only answered the phone because her receptionist was on vacation. She was patient, informative and compassionate. I knew I was talking to a kindred spirit, and that God had placed her in my path to give me some emotional (and eventually physical) relief.

I heaved grateful sobs when I got off the phone with her.

One connection with a kindred spirit.

And I’m considering finding a support group to encourage me on this new season of my life. Hopefully I’ll make another friend. I already have one who’s is undergoing much of the same, and we are supporting one another.

Keep trying—

The goal is to keep trying. Persevere. If one person doesn’t show interest in spite of all of your efforts, then graciously move on and try someone else or another setting. Invite someone out to lunch or over for tea, to try to connect. Usually you’ll know immediately whether or not there’s a potential heart bond.

I’ve come to realize that I can’t just dredge up high school friendships that weren’t there in high school, or pretend some existed or went deeper when they didn’t. I can go to my high school reunion and enjoy conversations without expectations of being asked to join “the group” for outside social events. I can move forward from where I am, at this age, with the needs, weaknesses, goals and gifts I have now.

In this season of my life.

Be realistic—

Don’t spread yourself too thin. Work on maintaining and deepening the precious friendships you do have and focus on the new person or two you’d like to spend more time, or encourage. I’ve noted a couple of people I can tell need someone to come alongside them, as encouragers, so I’m making plans to spend some time with them.

Start with something low key, like grabbing a cup of coffee, going to a movie, inviting someone over for a swim if you have a pool they’d enjoy.

Don’t be too hard on the friends who go for months or maybe longer without getting in touch with you. Extend them grace and the benefit of the doubt. Check in with them via text or a call or email to let them know you’r thinking of them and love them. Yours may be the most uplifting, positive message they’ve heard in a long time. Life and time zip by quickly before people realize it; and life is hard—harder for some than others.

Be creative. As I tell my kids, try to find some common ground and interest you can connect on. You’d be amazed at what blossoms for your efforts!

NEXT WEEK we’ll see what the Blue Zone researchers discovered about the importance of lifelong friendships.

Until then, branch out and try some new things, do your best to connect with an old friend, work on deepening the relationships you already have.

Blessings,

Andrea


Andrea Arthur Owan is an award-winning inspirational writer, fitness pro and chaplain. She writes and works to help people live their best lives—physically, emotionally, and spiritually.

How to Build Friendships: Taking the Whole Person Into Account

In this over-saturated, social media-driven world, we are finding ourselves lost, lonely, depressed and needing to return to the basics of life. (Anyone remember the song with that title by 4Him? I’ll supply the link at the end of this post.)

Building friendships and having a rich life—

Last month we started a series on developing and building friendships, something all of us need. Even the most righteous and Spirit-filled believer needs someone with skin on her. Even our Lord had His special twelve, and his intimate three. Why would we think we could go it alone?

First things first—

When you’re looking to make new friendships, deepen old ones, or considering whether or not a friendship has run its course (yes, that does happen), the first thing you can examine is you.

Take your whole person into account.

You’ll want to take a deep, introspective look at the five components of you, as a human being. Those components are:

Physical
Intellectual
Emotional
Social
Spiritual

These five components are needs you have. Needs that—when addressed and enriched—can provide you with a healthy, well-balanced and happy life.

To get started, you might ask yourself the following questions?

What is my current physical (health) state, and what do I need to do to improve or maintain it? What kind of physical activities do I enjoy and does my body respond positively to? What physical activities enhance my other needs?
How can I stimulate my intellectual side and keep my brain and cognitive functions active and as young as possible? (Physical activity is important for this too.) Would I like to learn a new language? Learn to play a musical instrument? Take a gourmet cooking class? An art class?
Would I make new friends and receive more social stimulation if I join a fitness class or a local hiking or cycling group? Would museum memberships or outings stimulate my brain? What about book clubs, or newcomers club if I’ve recently moved to a new area?
Is there a fellowship or Bible study group I could join that would enrich me in multiple areas—intellectual, emotional, social, and spiritual? A volunteer position?
Is there something you and a current friend can do together? A friend of mine has a weekly, standing lunch date with another friend of hers. Sometimes they sit for hours and chat while eating. Gathering around a meal is one of the best ways to learn about one another and deepen friendships.

This same friend and I had a marvelous day at the zoo on the first day of spring this year. I’d been lamenting the fact that my boys were grown and gone, and we would no longer celebrate the first day of spring together with a “spring fling” day, when I’d give them the day off from home schooling, and we’d hit the zoo and swings at a local park.

But while languishing in my self-pity, the Lord reminded me that I wasn’t dead yet and that I could still celebrate spring fling day with a friend. We had a glorious time together, and ALL of the animals (except the rhino) were out on full, happy display for us on the gorgeous first day of spring. It was truly a day made in heaven! I even took pictures and texted them to the boys. “You’re at the ZOO!” came the return texts. Sharing the day with them that way resurrected some sweet memories for them. And I made a precious new one with a special friend!

It was a stimulating day physically, (3 weeks post-surgery, I hobbled around in a knee brace), emotionally, intellectually, socially, and spiritually.

A win-win all around!

Your turn—

Spend some time this week meditating on which areas/needs you’re not meeting and jotting down some ideas that could get you going in meeting them. Really take your whole person into account.

And here’s that YouTube video of the song—

Next week we’ll talk about getting out there and finding places to gather.

Blessings,

Andrea

The Millennial Falcon in our Backyard

We have a problem child residing in our backyard, and he’s not the human variety.

It turns out that peregrine falcons also have problems with getting their offspring to exit the nest.

Actually, it’s been hysterical watching the frustrating process.

The precarious transition of a baby falcon to adult—

The first time we noticed that there was a baby falcon living in our eucalyptus tree, it was because the adults (parents) were dive-bombing our black lab every time he was outside in their vicinity. Hami wasn’t deterred, though, and continued to make himself visible and noisy.

Then, nearly two weeks ago, I came home one afternoon to find a peregrine falcon perched on the edge of my roof, leaning against our fireplace brick. He peered down upon me as I drove to the garage. As soon as I slowed down to look at him, he swiftly pivoted and ran back across the roof in the direction of the tree. And that was the first thing that seemed odd to me.

He didn’t fly back to the tree, as they usually do. He sprinted, as though he didn’t have wings.

He also had tufts sticking straight up from his head that gave me the impression he was a young falcon shedding some baby feathers.

Several days later, as Chris and I enjoyed a cooling-off session in the pool (it’s extreme heat time here in the Southwest), we watched our two resident falcons come soaring back to the tree. Then another followed suit. Two coasted easily into the confines of the tree branches. The other one got snagged up on the low-hanging branches and flapped and swung and flapped and swung in vane. Finally, he dropped out of the tree and stood on the dead grass. When I got out of the pool, I slowly walked up the steps and sat on the patio couch to watch him. His wings hung limply out from his sides. So much so that I thought they were injured.

Concerned, I watched him several minutes before rising and moving toward him. At that point, he hopped across the grass and flew—sort of—to the nearby metal fence. Then he flew awkwardly to our back wall. Up to that time, I was considering a call to the game and fish department, or the Sonoran Desert Museum to see if they could lasso an injured falcon. But Chris and I realized he wasn’t injured.

He was afraid to fly!

Since then, Chris and I have watched daily as the young falcon sits on the edge of our dog’s water bowl, inches from our glass bedroom door, with his tail feathers dipped in the water; watched him as he watches us between the sliding glass door separating us from him on our back patio and our bedroom; watched him perch on a patio chair within safe distance from his parents and his tree—the only home he’s ever known.

Then Chris watched a frustrated parent squawk at him from our rooftop, while the other parent sat next to him on our olive tree branch, trying valiantly to boot him off the branch into flight by butting her head against her progeny’s back end. But the adolescent wasn’t about to take flight. He sat stubbornly on the branch, unmoved and unmoving.

But in the last several days, progress has been seen. The three of them leave the tree together to hunt and return effortlessly to the tree. Picked-clean animal carcasses litter the tree base. He’s finding himself comfortable in a variety of places on our patio, including the furniture.

Last Thursday morning, Chris was treated to what he described as “an air show.” The three falcons zoomed back and forth around our acre property in Blue Angel-like flight formation. Clearly, the offspring is growing into his wings. Indeed, he seems to be realizing he has splendid, useful ones.

And it seems, from our limited perspective, that his parents are patiently guiding him every step of the way, sticking closely enough—but not too closely—to boost his confidence. Squawking out encouragement from various vantage points around the yard. (It’s gotten pretty noisy back there.)

When we told the story to one of our older sons college friends, she laughed and labeled him “the millennial falcon.” Thus he’s been christened.

Maybe he’ll finally venture out and find a home of his own, and a mate with which to share flying fun and a family. Or maybe he’ll decide he’s got pretty good digs in our backyard and will only move down to a lower rung to set up shop, living in the “basement” level of the 80-foot eucalyptus. Multi-generational family is back in vogue right now, mostly out of necessity. But it does have its advantages.

Either way, we have a burgeoning aviary in our backyard and are blessed to be witness to this spectacle. It’s been delightfully entertaining!

Benefits for me—

It’s been educational, to see how one member of the animal world trains and supports its offspring. The ties that bind has a new meaning for, and I’m thinking a lot about how much more our adult boys seem to need us—and our advice—than they ever did (or wanted) before.

And I’m ruminating on how different children need vastly different techniques in child rearing and releasing, depending upon their abilities, their personalities, and their confidence. Clearly, they are not all able, or interested, in leaving the nest at the same age, or at the age we’ve arbitrarily deemed the mandatory release date.

As parents, sometimes we need to squawk reprimands, sometimes we need to cajole, sometimes we need to sympathize, protect, and encourage.

Sometimes we need to sit back, observe, and not interfere.

It’s a delicate job that needs a ton of wisdom and discernment from our heavenly Father to do well. And a heap of patience and forgiveness (from both parent and child sides) as we walk this lifelong road together. Because once we’re parents, we never stop being parents.

And even though they achieve adulthood, they never stop being our children.

It’s a blessing we must never take for granted.

Our faithful, long-suffering backyard dwellers are demonstrating and reinforcing a lot of what I already knew but didn’t always do well.

I’m looking on the animal world a little differently now, with more appreciation and camaraderie. And more than a few chuckles and outright belly laughs.

I had no idea how much we could relate to one another.

This entire process could be less stressful and more successful if we’d just let it.

Until next week,

Enjoy the animal creatures in your midst!

Blessings,