Category: Gratitude

How to Make the Most Out of Life (Part 1)

A recent Guideposts magazine story (June/July 2019) talks about what’s important for a happy fulfilling life in your senior season of life: mental stimulation, spiritual nourishment, financial stability and good friends.

But my question is: why wait until the senior season of your life to pursue, seek out and enjoy those life components?

Aren’t they critical for a satisfying, well-balanced life in every season of life?

 

How did we get to this point?

I believe all of these components are critical and that only since the Industrial Age and now the Technology Age have we managed to compartmentalize ourselves in such a way that our life scales are thrown out of whack.

 

What quality of life do you have if you don’t have mental stimulation, spiritual nourishment, financial stability and good friends to share joys, pain and laughter?

 

Mental stimulation—

Some of us our over-stimulated mentally by our work schedules and job demands. To prove that truth, work or job “burn out” has recently become an official medical diagnosis. It isn’t always our fault—technology and a company’s demands that the employee always be connected, reachable and ridiculously overloaded—fuels the depression and burn out pattern. I really think employees need to start pushing back on that one, or do some serious self-analysis on how important that job or career is to them.

Plenty of millenials are doing just that—choosing to ditch the nine-to-five-plus rat race and opt for a richer, more stress-free life and fewer belongings. Kudos to them for prioritizing a little better than our generation or generations before us have.

 

Spiritual nourishment—

At any season of life we need spiritual nourishment. Study after study shows that people who worship regularly in a corporate setting and indicate they have a religious affiliation are happier and more satisfied with life. They also have better connections with others and are healthier mentally.

Unfortunately, this is an area many younger people have abdicated, adopting the erroneous belief that religious life is unnecessary, or eschewing church-going as old fashioned or believers too hypocritical.

I say they should get involved and be the instruments of compassion, kindness, and change they want to see. I believe they will eventually pay a steep price for abdicating this critical life component.

 

Financial stability—

Honestly, due to economic ups and downs and unpredictability, I’m not sure financial “stability” is ever achievable. But good goals are to always live below your means, within your means, save all you can, spend all you can, and give away all you can. And to live as debt-free as you possibly can. Being, and feeling like a slave to a lender is physically, emotionally, and spiritually exhausting and depressing.

The common adage is that older adults live on a “fixed income.” But most people I know live on a fixed income of some sorts throughout their lives, unless they’re salespeople that depend on sales quotas, or company managers that enjoy yearly bonuses based on company performances.

Otherwise, you get the same paycheck week after week after week. And then maybe you get a raise. Even seniors get a yearly social security raise every year, even though it’s tiny and usually swallowed up by apartment or housing rent that increases accordingly.

 

Good friends—

How many good friends do you have? I mean really good friends. Not just friendly co-workers, classmates or acquaintances, but people with whom you can share your deepest thoughts?

People you can pray with, people who pray for you. The ones you can call in an emergency and who will be there for you.

 

I’m working on the friend component this week.

I’m visiting a friend who was by my side as we raised our children together. I was heartbroken when her husband transferred to a new job in a new state, MANY miles away, but I was determined to keep our friendship nurtured in spite of the physical distance that now spreads between us.

I didn’t want to allow our friendship to dissolve into infrequent text messaging or once-a-year Christmas card sending, so, as soon as they moved into their sprawling new home, (lots of bedrooms and no kids left at home), I told her to get the guest room ready for me to visit. Lucky me, she was happy to comply! (And I bought the airline ticket before my pragmatic brain told me no.)

 

And Chris and I did some friend nurturing Memorial Day weekend, too.

For my naturally-introverted husband, socializing can be taxing and stressful. To re-energize, he likes to spend time alone, or with just me, doing something we enjoy together, or just sitting on the couch enjoying Friday night movie time.

I, on the other hand, swing from lets-have-a-PARTY! extrovert, to I-desperately-need-some-time-alone, to hovering between the two extremes. Sometimes I re-energize through crowds and people contact; and sometimes I just have to be alone.

So when I expressed to Chris my desire to pack duffel bags and head 500 miles west to celebrate our friends’ daughter’s wedding, I didn’t exactly get a rousing “Yahoo!” response from him. I pretty much told him that I’d already replied with a yes. After several weeks of wrapping his brain around it, he warmed up to the idea.

And we had a blast!

Of course, I threw in a surprise two days post-wedding for us to spend on the beach in San Diego, not far from where we lived in a 32-foot fifth-wheel trailer when our older son was born. It was a walk down memory lane. And he couldn’t stop thanking me for both the wedding enjoyment followed by relaxing, no-stress down time. He returned home rejuvenated and happy. We both got the best of our own worlds!

 

I’m doing this trip alone, for some serious girl time. My friend says she has the week scheduled with outings, hiking, sightseeing, swim, sun and rest time.

 

The engineer and I have a couple other trips planned for this summer, to nurture our relationship and the family ties. Yes, taking them is going to cost us more than a financial counselor would advise us to spend, but we’re banking on the relationship, love building and joy out-weighing the financial burden.

 

Great motto to guide your life—

As John Wesley advised: Gain all you can, save all you can, give all you can.

I think it’s pretty wise advise for life investment.

I’m just praying my trip East doesn’t come with tornadoes!

 

How about you?

What friendships will you nurture this summer?

 

Until next week,

Blessings,

Andrea

“Certainly there was an Eden….We all long for it, and we are constantly glimpsing it.” —J.R.R. Tolkien

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.

Mother’s Day 2019: Kids, Flowers and Quail

It was a busy Mother’s Day around the Owan homestead.

My younger son drove down from Phoenix to celebrate the day with me and spend the night; the three of us enjoyed worship together (ALWAYS a thrill to have my children join me again at a worship service—for some reason, it’s when I feel most like a mother), and listened to popular Christian speaker Cynthia Heald speak on discipleship.

Then we enjoyed a lengthy brunch at one of our favorite local restaurants (First Watch—their Million Dollar Bacon is to die for!) before returning home, grabbing my Shetland sheepdog, Dolly, and heading down to the rehabilitation facility where my mom’s currently recovering from her broken collarbone. Later that evening I enjoyed a lengthy phone conversation with my older son who lives 1,538.1 miles away.

 

And then there was the new motherhood spectacle erupting (literally) in a pot on our front porch.

 

Ten new babies—

About twenty days ago, a female Gambel’s Quail inspected the neighborhood and decided the large pot housing a Norfolk Island Pine tree tucked in the corner next to our front door would make a splendid protected location to set up a maternity room.

As a quail lover, I was thrilled and honored at her decision!

For ten days after her selection, we watched spellbound as she laid one, two, three, four…ten dappled eggs—one egg each day over the course of those ten days. Then she stopped laying and started warming. (We contributed to the effort by refraining from watering our tree!)

While Momma quail provided most of the incubating, her male partner put in his share of time (while mom took a well-deserved break) and was the major sitter and warmer when time came for the residents of those adorable eggs to emerge.

 

Mother’s Day morning the brood started making their grand appearance.

 

Evidently the chipping and emerging process starts a couple of days prior to the actual eruption, but we weren’t able to detect any of that until Sunday. But by Sunday afternoon, cracked shells, withering shell linings and thimble-sized quail lay discarded, or scurrying around the dirt inside the pot. Dad continued to keep the new hatchlings warm while their siblings continued working their way out and into the world. One egg that had rolled to the other side of the pot in the frantic hatching process was rescued and re-nested by Dad. When Dad “flew the coop” (when we attempted to take a peek from afar), the quail babies wedged themselves under the pot lip for warmth and protection.

When our black Labrador ran his big, snoopy nose in the pot to inspect the nursery, several babies took flight, plopped onto the porch and had to be corralled by Dad or scooped up by my husband and re-deposited into the pot.

It was, indeed, a grand Mother’s Day all around: Kids, worship, fellowship around food, white roses, pink and yellow tulips, and the cycle of life playing itself out in magnificent form on our front porch—we had a delightful, ring-side view to God’s marvelous design for replenishing and renewing. Why we work so hard to find other things to obtain and amuse ourselves with is beyond me.

 

What provides more true and pure joy than fellowship with the Lord and the basics of life?

 

The aftermath—

The eggs are broken and discarded, the quail have vacated, and I’m left a little melancholy at their absence.

I felt so blessed to be a daily witness to this spectacle of nature, of God’s creating and re-creating plan. Instead of just dumping the evidence and resuming the watering of my pine tree, I’m going to pluck all of the shells from the pot and display them in a glass jar, a reminder of that blessing, and of all the blessings yet to come in my life.

A reminder of the dedication of a feathered mother to warm and protect her brood until it was their time to arrive, and to make sure they arrived safely. (Honestly, may I say that it was a stark contrast to the haphazard and flippant way many human mothers incubate and prepare for their offsprings’ emergence.)

Now she and her mate are scurrying around the neighborhood somewhere with ten offspring. They’re still protecting and watching over them until they reach adulthood, (quails are phenomenal at protecting their covey), when the offsprings will seek mates and continue the cycle of life—of being fruitful and multiplying.

 

I hope all of you who are mothers rejoiced on your day; that all of you with loving, nurturing mothers were grateful for your blessing; that all of you awaiting the birth of a child feel blessed by the process and are excitedly anticipating your baby’s birth; and that those of you who have lost precious babies during pregnancy or delivery remember your babies as priceless members of your family.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Until next week,

Blessings,

Andrea

Arthroscopy and a Miracle

A funny thing happened on the way to my knee surgery. Something wonderful and rather miraculous.

But I still don’t know when it happened.

Let me explain.

 

A little history—

As a competitive gymnast, I put my knees—and body—through the contortion and compression ringer. Way back in high school I was slapped in a thigh-high to ankle leg immobilizer because of excruciating knee pain and unceremoniously diagnosed with “chondromalacia,” a condition that develops when the smooth, lubricating underneath surfaces of the kneecap get damaged or wear down from…well…wear and tear. At fifteen, I was already experiencing severe wear and tear.

The pain kept me from sleeping. I couldn’t find a comfortable position for it. Keep it bent too long, and I’d have to straighten it out to get it to calm down, at least a little. I needed to sit on the aisles for theater and movie attending because keeping it bent, with the kneecap surface grinding into my femur, was intolerable. Changes in air pressure exacerbated the pain, as did lying out in the sun too long. Adding any excess poundage to my medium frame also worsened the problem.

The condition was still giving me fits in college, and my team physician prescribed 7 aspirin 3 to 4 times a day. It certainly reduced the inflammation, but I was too exhausted from anemia to stay awake or experience discomfort. That was a rough college semester.

 

Athletic Training to the rescue—

Once I completed my athletic training degrees (B.S. and M.S.), I understood what my “mechanism of injury” (cause) was and how to deal with it and became a specialist in the biomechanics of the lower extremity and learned how to treat my own knees as well as my patients’. I developed a knee treatment and exercise protocol to keep my legs strong and avoid further injury.

But I couldn’t reverse the damage done. And while hiking the sometimes-brutal landscape of the Camino de Santiago last fall, my kneecaps (and femur) once again fell victim to the ravages of bone-to-bone grinding. I ended up hobbling (yes, HOBBLING!), into Logrono, our last town on our first journey.

 

Seeing a doctor—

After our return from the Camino, I made an appointment to see a local orthopedic doctor that specializes in regenerative medicine of the joints. Maybe he could help me?

After examining my x-rays, and pointing out the frayed surfaces of my kneecaps, he said he could probably help me regenerate some of that surface cartilage through stem cell injections. Cells extracted from my own tummy fat. (How wonderful that they’ve found something useful for it!)

Because the cost is exorbitant, and insurance companies won’t pay for it, I’d need to save to have the procedure, which I hoped to do last month, after I’d made enough recovery from my November toe bone spur-removal surgery.

But something happened during the rehabilitation from that bone spur. Either I put too much pressure on the right leg, and damaged my meniscus; or an already-damaged meniscus was further eroded during my rehab. One Friday back in January, I saw my stem cell doctor again, told him my right knee felt as though it was hanging by a thread, and wondered what he suggested. He said he wanted to get a look inside the knee to see what was going on. That meant an MRI, which he ordered. (That’s what I hoped he would do.)

 

But the following Monday afternoon changed all my plans.

On the way out my front door to get into the car and drive to Phoenix for a three-day Crisis Management seminar, I finished off what I’d started.

It didn’t take much. It often doesn’t, especially when you get to a “certain age.” I stepped backward off the landing, planted my right foot, turned the key in the lock and pivoted on my planted foot.

Bad move. And a ripping sound toward the back of my knee confirmed it.

After crawling back into the house, (wailing in pain and frustration to my two attentive and sympathetic dogs), icing, and awaiting my husband’s return so he could take me to the after-hours clinic, I got my MRI moved to “stat,” and slid through the magnetic tube that Friday. The following Tuesday I was back in my doctor’s office.

“Good news,” he started, “is that you don’t have arthritis in the knee joint.” I was thrilled, especially after a grizzled Physician’s Assistant with no bedside manner assured me in the after-hours clinic that I had arthritis and my meniscus had to be “mush” due to my age. It meant no knee replacement necessary, for the time being, at least. Then he continued. “But you do have a meniscus tear. They’d normally just let it go, but you have a flap on yours. They’ll need to cut that out, so the knee won’t lock up on you during activity.”

Since he doesn’t do surgery, he recommended another doctor, a believer in stem cell therapy. My doctor hunted him down and brought him back to the room. (Impressive service!) The surgeon told me it was an odd tear (of course; I don’t do anything “normally”) and there wasn’t much to be done but snip that flap off. “And clean up anything else I find in there.”

I knew what that meant: clean up any of the chondromalacia debris. I wasn’t in hurry. Wanting to build some strength in my legs before undergoing the knife, I scheduled surgery for six weeks later.

 

The surgery—

That morning, Chris said he’d never seen anyone more ready and excited to have knee surgery in their life. True. I was excited to find out what was going on there, myself. I sort of felt as though I had this morbid desire to use myself as a guinea pig. I chatted up a storm with everyone. Even the anesthesiologist and I got into a discussion about walking the Camino de Santiago. Fifteen minutes later the procedure was over. They’d blocked out an hour.

Chris had just settled himself into doing work on his computer in the waiting room when my surgeon bounced down the hall toward him, a jubilant smile spread across his face. “Come in here,” he said, as he waved Chris toward a private consultation room.

The surgeon tossed the glossy pictures of my internal knee anatomy toward Chris. “Look at this!” he gushed. “I’ve been doing this a long time, and I’ve never seen anything like it.”

Chris pretended to know what he was looking at as the surgeon pointed out the structures. “See her ACL (anterior cruciate ligament)? That glossy area indicates it was damaged, and then healed. That’s remarkable. And see the color of the ligament itself? It’s shape?” Chris nodded as he stared at the picture. “That’s what a ligament of a twenty-year-old athlete looks like!”

Chris’s gaped at the surgeon, who continued. “And, aside from the tear, her meniscus are also in near-perfect condition—healthy, good density. All I had to do was snip off that flap. And see the fibers branching out from the tear edges? It’s healing itself!”

Chris threw out a couple of “Wow” comments as the doctor continued. “And see the smooth cartilage on the bones? She has NO arthritis. Absolutely amazing!”

Then the doctor flipped to the second sheet of pictures. “Now there’s the war zone!” He pointed to the pitted kneecap surface, with the fragments of sheared and scraped-off cartilage hanging off the kneecap and floating in the joint fluid. “Typical gymnast knee. Lots of brutal shear force. I just cleaned off the mess. The good news is that she actually has about 1/3 of the surface cartilage left for stem cells to bond to. She’s a prime candidate for the treatment!

“I don’t know what you guys are doing, eating or exercising or good living. But whatever it is, keep doing it!”

 

Recovery—

Chris couldn’t wait to share the good news. I was thrilled. At my post-op appointment, the surgeon confirmed what he told Chris and said he didn’t think I’d ever need a need replacement.

I lay on the couch post-surgery and bragged to anyone who called to check on me that I had the knees of a 20-year-old. But it didn’t take me long to think a little deeper about what had transpired.

I’d turned 61 just four days prior to surgery. Twenty years old was four long decades ago. Even if I took into account:

  • my pension to eat well and consume a lot of anti-inflammatory foods;
  • my liberal use of anti-inflammatory meds during my twenties;
  • the likelihood that I’m blessed with good genes, (my mom is 97 ½ and without any skeletal problems);
  • and my athletic escapades and genetic bent toward strong, powerful muscles that hold joints together;

 

I can in no way account for all of those factors subtracting 40 years from the age of my knee.

 

Somewhere along the line, some heaven-sent miracle arrested the aging of my knee; or I received a healing miracle sometime during the last 40 years.

I won’t know this side of heaven what the answer is, but I’m SOOOOO grateful. I probably won’t need my knee sawed out and replaced with a bionic, titanium alloy model. Something that’s so often done these days that it reminds me of assembly-line surgery.

 

Healing process—

So now I’m working on rehabilitating my knee. Recovery is creeping along much more slowly than I predicted, but I’m guessing that’s all in God’s plan too. Another lesson in slowing down, trusting. Practicing peace in the face of incapacity and pain.

Surgery recovery has a way of putting life into perspective. It whittles life down to what’s important and really urgent.

Turns out not much is really urgent, although we elevate a lot of things in our lives to urgent. Sometimes I think we do that to make our lives seem more relevant.

And we get brainwashed into believing that unless our lives seem relevant, then we aren’t relevant.

I’m also amazed once again at how God has created the body to heal itself. Sometimes that’s a slow process that needs cooperation. Otherwise, healing can go haywire. I confess I’m not always a patient person, so the healing process is also a lesson in patience, another product of the Spirit’s fruit.

 

Any way you look at it, it constitutes a miracle.

There’s a lot to be learned from an injury.

Youthful knees or not!

Photo:

By the way, the above picture is not a photo of the moon. It’s the inside of my knee. The damaged part of it. The grayish area is where the surface cartilage has been worn down, “like sandpaper,” the surgeon said. Gymnastics. All of the surface should be pearly white.

Hopefully it will become that way if and when I have those stem cell injections!

I’ll be praying for another miracle!

 

Until next week,

Shalom,

Andrea

“Certainly there was an Eden….We all long for it, and we are constantly glimpsing it.” —J.R.R. Tolkien

4 Steps to Changing Your Defects: Renewing Your Mind and Retraining Your Brain

How are you doing with tackling the process of ridding yourself of pesky defects?

How did you do with last week’s first three steps of demolishing strongholds and deficiencies?

 

Are you able to:

  • Focus on ONE defect at a time, or do you get bogged down with every issue?
  • Focus on obtaining victory over one defect issue?
  • Focus on God’s power and not your own willpower to overcome and make those critical-to-a-successful and full life corrections?

I hope we’re all making headway with the process of acknowledging, confronting and dealing a punishing blow to our defects and hang-ups. It can be a lifelong process to conquer some of them. Yet every step forward counts toward healing and growing, so this week we’re going to cover four additional steps we can take to get the healing process moving forward.

 

  1. Focus on what you want and not what you don’t want.

One of the first things beginning writers are taught is to try to write in a positive rather than negative way. The same is true of effectively retraining your brain to master healthful habits. It has to do with reframing, or adopting a new perspective.

It’s easy to come up with a list of why you don’t want to do something, or why it’s hard to change. But try coming up with a list of all of the benefits you’ll receive out of making the change.

For example, some of your reasons, or excuses, for not going to the gym might be:

  • I don’t like getting sweaty.
  • It takes so long to drive there.
  • I have to take the time to get ready to go.
  • I have so many other things I need to do.
  • I don’t particularly like to exercise.
  • Other people at the gym are going to stare at me and judge me because I’m not in shape.

 

Try reframing your thoughts with comments like:
  • The sweat will help rid my body of toxins and I’ll feel better.
  • I can listen to uplifting music in the car during my drive.
  • I can enjoy the preparation process and maybe purchase a special gym bag and workout clothes to use.
  • Working out is important for me to have good health, and I am important—to myself, my family, and God.
  • Getting into an exercise routine may be hard, but I could exercise with a friend or in a class, where I can meet new friends and enjoy the camaraderie and encouragement of working out together.
  • I won’t be the only out-of-shape person at the gym, and others there started at the beginning like me. A personal trainer from the gym can help me get started and be the encourager I need to keep at it.

 

When you focus on the negatives, your thought life becomes a problem. When you catch yourself thinking negatively, stop and turn your resistance into a proactive, positive comment. Believe it or not, your brain will take notice and start thinking in a more positive manner.

 

  1. Memorize uplifting Scripture verses.

Having notecards in your bag, car, or purse and scattered around the house can remind you of good things the Lord has said and promised. Memorizing these passages or verses is even better because you renew your mind with them and affect your heart and spirit.

In fact, Scripture memorization is like good food for the soul! Feed yourself with as much of it as you possibly can throughout the day. And meditate on it at night before going to sleep. God’s word will permeate your thought processes and affect your actions.

 

  1. Focus on doing good things and acting in good ways not on feeling good.

I know, this is a tough one. But believe it when psychologists say that actions can drive feelings, just as feelings can drive actions.

It’s dangerous to wait until we feel like doing something to do it. When we live that way, we get stuck and often miss out on life. I can’t count how many times doing something I didn’t feel like doing ended up turning my feelings and emotions around to the positive.

 

  1. Focus on the people who help and support you in your recovery work and not on the ones who undermine or hinder you.

This step can be very difficult when it’s family members doing the stifling or resisting. But you must surround yourself with like-minded encouragers. Even more so if you live with people who tend to drag you down or feed your weaknesses.

Scripture is very clear about wisely choosing friends and NOT being unequally yoked (as in marriage or business) to an unbeliever. Unfortunately, so many people brush that wise admonition aside and end up living in pain and frustration for rebelling against it.

You are a precious being. Your time is a precious commodity. Pray about and choose wisely! You may find yourself having to pray about leaving a friend and drawing boundaries in order to protect yourself and heal.

 

Finally, wholeheartedly trust God to lead and change you. In our weakness He is made strong. Recognize and accept your current circumstances as they are and trust that God is working right now to help you overcome your frailties and faults; that He is working in you to finish your faith and help you run the race to a successful completion.

Don’t give up, because God doesn’t give up on you!

 

Until next week, list your steps, work your steps, take one step, one day at a time, and rejoice over even the smallest victories!

On a side note: I’m celebrating another complete revolution around the sun today and meditating on the year the Lord has given me. It has been anything but “normal.”

It has been full, it has been revealing, it has sometimes been fraught with snags and obstacles, and it has been life changing. I am spending the day reflecting on it and praying for insight into the next 12 months.

And I humbly request your prayers as I prepare for knee surgery this Friday, fallout from extreme athletics and my Camino journey. I’m hoping this is the last time I have to be cut open for a while!

Blessings,

Andrea

“Certainly there was an Eden….We all long for it, and we are constantly glimpsing it.” —J.R.R. Tolkien

Are Your Standards Higher than God’s?

Most of the stories the group members relayed were full of anguish and turmoil. Pain heaped upon pain. And as I listened to them tell their stories, a couple of thoughts crossed my mind.

It was clear that some had told their stories before. Many times. And a few of them seemed to enjoy telling their stories. I wasn’t sure if they went on and on because they were nervous, or they wanted or needed to be heard, or they had gotten so accustomed to the attention they received when telling the story that they craved it, had become addicted to it.

Certainly, being Christians, they expressed joy in the Lord, and gratefulness for His salvation. But the peace He promises seemed to be missing.

And then there was the shame. The deep, profound feeling of shame they projected over their weaknesses, failures and hurts they’d caused others. Some had confessed their sins and turned from their evil ways decades ago, and yet they still wept over their behavior.

They seemed to focus more on their shame and sins than they did on the dismantling and destruction of their chains. Their cleansing.

 

They still struggled with feelings of unworthiness.

While they possessed the head knowledge of their new lives in Christ, they clung to the pain and sins of their old lives. They identified them.

They didn’t focus on being a new creature.

They forgot that when God forgives sins, He will remember them no more. As far as the east is from the west is the distance God has removed our transgressions from us.

They didn’t seem to want to let go.

They weren’t going through the process of renewing their minds.

And they were beating themselves up about it.

 

In short, it comes down to what Dr. David Jeremiah told a young lady who just couldn’t get from the God-forgiving-her-stage, to forgiving herself,

 

“So your standards are higher and better than God’s?”

 

Wow! That’s looking at through a different lens, isn’t it? And He’s right. When you stop and think about it, it’s ludicrous what we project onto our loving, tender, long-suffering and forgiving God.

Does all of that sound too familiar?

 

Can you picture this scenario?

Jesus tells you: “Your sin is forgiven, but I’m going to be banging you in the head over it for the rest of your life. Just so you don’t forget how awful you are and awful your sin was, and how much you owe me for My sacrifice and salvation.”

 

Can you imagine Him doing that to you?

Well, he doesn’t and He wouldn’t.

 

So why do we act as thought He does?

It’s becoming more painfully clear to me that so much of our mental, emotional, spiritual and sometimes physical anguish is self-inflicted. And it shouldn’t be that way. In fact, I think it grieves our Saviors heart to watch how we punish ourselves, and others who have also asked for and received forgiveness for their confessed sins.

 

How about you?

  • Are you stuck in the self-infliction pattern?
  • Have you set higher standards than God has for you?
  • Are you continuing to beat yourself up over some failure you confessed and know you’ve received forgiveness for?
  • Is your behavior threatening your mental, emotional, spiritual and physical health?
  • If so, what will you do to change your attitude and behavior this year?
  • Do you need to confess to Him that you’ve been punishing yourself and seek forgiveness for self-harm?
  • Do you know anyone who needs encouragement and maybe some enlightenment and correction in this area?

 

My prayer is that we can all take the Savior at His word, rest in His peace and joy, walk through life with a light step, and reject the self-incrimination that can bind our hearts, minds, emotions and actions.

Let’s make sure we allow God to set the standards for our lives!

Blessings,

Andrea

“Certainly there was an Eden….We all long for it, and we are constantly glimpsing it.” —J.R.R. Tolkien

 

BLOG SCHEDULE NOTE: As 2019 has dawned, it became clear that, in order to complete my memoir manuscript this year and prepare it for publication, and complete all of the writing set before me, that I would have to reduce my blog posting schedule.

To accomplish that, Free-for-All Fridays will be reduced to once-a-month posts, which will be published on the first Friday of each month.

So I’ll see you back here the first Friday of February, which happens to be the 1st!

Until then, walk lightly, and be forgiving—of yourself and others.