Sunday, November 20, 2016
A Lovely Report: A Social Experiment....in a Society of One
A Lovely Report: A Social Experiment....in a Society of One: Back in mid-August, I discovered through a conversation that you could "un-follow" people on Facebook --not un-friend, but just u...
A Social Experiment....in a Society of One
Back in mid-August, I discovered through a conversation that you could "un-follow" people on Facebook --not un-friend, but just un-follow. I had been feeling very "crowded" in life of late and thought, "gee, this might just be what the doctor ordered." You might think it was from the heated political season, but that stuff doesn't really bother me --I actually enjoy the discussion. I think it was just a culmination of being inundated with technology every where you turn; your phone goes everywhere with you, they now have tv's in every restaurant you go to, and Facebook was just one more place for me to know everything about everyone.
It was time for a change. A new season.
So, over a series of days I went through and un-followed almost everyone except for the two remaining Lovelies who were still on Fb (L#2 deleted her account a while back, a decision I applaud her for). I also deleted the Fb app from my phone so I would have a second layer of insulation; kind of a way of challenging myself.
I have to say, the first few days were weird; my now-limited knowledge of what was going on in everyone else's life was quite different and made my "inner-world" much quieter, something I hadn't had for a looooong time --I mean I have been on Facebook since 2007 --eons of time in the Social Media World. I wasn't sure how to react.
But as time went on, I noticed something interesting. I actually paid attention to the outside world more, because I had to --I didn't know everything in advance. And the bonus of not knowing everything ahead of time from Fb gave me REAL conversation time with people when seeing them in-person! I didn't already know that so-and-so had gone to such-and-such which usually means just getting the highlights of a previously known situation.
Assessment: Pretty Cool.
So this has been my experiment for most of the Fall. It's been refreshing and I really have gotten used to the quiet. I have still gotten on Fb somewhat, but I only see what Lovely #1 and #3 post, along with a couple of Bible-related or hobby-related sites. I rarely commented unless I was tagged in something, because I didn't think it was fair of me --what right did I have to post a lot of opinions (and y'all know I normally did!) if I didn't afford that same space to others in my viewing?
But........the holidays are here (can you hear my whininess here? haha) I miss reading about the latest Thanksgiving trends, seeing holiday decorations, and knowing about any interesting places to visit during the Christmas season. So, today I have UN-unfollowed people once again :)
I will continue to keep the app off my phone --I have enjoyed the freedom and the challenge of looking outward instead of the easy inward pull. But, I will now also look forward to spending time reading about everyone's holiday preps and plans.
Will I stop again come January? I'm not sure. This experiment was a success and I feel like Galadriel in Lord of the Rings when she passes the test given to her: "I will diminish and go into the West and remain Galadriel" I feel like I have met the challenge and Fb no longer has the hold on me it once had.
I now throw down the gauntlet and would love to hear anyone else's journey.
And let the holidays begin! --Oh my gosh, wait what??--it's only HOW many days until Thanksgiving?? Where have I been, under a rock?
It was time for a change. A new season.
So, over a series of days I went through and un-followed almost everyone except for the two remaining Lovelies who were still on Fb (L#2 deleted her account a while back, a decision I applaud her for). I also deleted the Fb app from my phone so I would have a second layer of insulation; kind of a way of challenging myself.
I have to say, the first few days were weird; my now-limited knowledge of what was going on in everyone else's life was quite different and made my "inner-world" much quieter, something I hadn't had for a looooong time --I mean I have been on Facebook since 2007 --eons of time in the Social Media World. I wasn't sure how to react.
But as time went on, I noticed something interesting. I actually paid attention to the outside world more, because I had to --I didn't know everything in advance. And the bonus of not knowing everything ahead of time from Fb gave me REAL conversation time with people when seeing them in-person! I didn't already know that so-and-so had gone to such-and-such which usually means just getting the highlights of a previously known situation.
Assessment: Pretty Cool.
So this has been my experiment for most of the Fall. It's been refreshing and I really have gotten used to the quiet. I have still gotten on Fb somewhat, but I only see what Lovely #1 and #3 post, along with a couple of Bible-related or hobby-related sites. I rarely commented unless I was tagged in something, because I didn't think it was fair of me --what right did I have to post a lot of opinions (and y'all know I normally did!) if I didn't afford that same space to others in my viewing?
But........the holidays are here (can you hear my whininess here? haha) I miss reading about the latest Thanksgiving trends, seeing holiday decorations, and knowing about any interesting places to visit during the Christmas season. So, today I have UN-unfollowed people once again :)
I will continue to keep the app off my phone --I have enjoyed the freedom and the challenge of looking outward instead of the easy inward pull. But, I will now also look forward to spending time reading about everyone's holiday preps and plans.
Will I stop again come January? I'm not sure. This experiment was a success and I feel like Galadriel in Lord of the Rings when she passes the test given to her: "I will diminish and go into the West and remain Galadriel" I feel like I have met the challenge and Fb no longer has the hold on me it once had.
I now throw down the gauntlet and would love to hear anyone else's journey.
And let the holidays begin! --Oh my gosh, wait what??--it's only HOW many days until Thanksgiving?? Where have I been, under a rock?
Tuesday, July 12, 2016
"...Like the Corners of My Mind...."
The phone rang. In my sleep, I heard it and blindly searched for it on the nightstand next to our bed. He always called to let me know he was on his way home anyway, so no need to fully wake up. Just lift up the phone, hear his voice, "Hey, Bubba, I'm on my way home, just letting you know. Love you and see you soon." I would usually mumble a sleepy "Alrighty, love you too....bye-bye" and hang up. So, I picked it up and heard instead a different voice on the other end, "Hi, Bridgette, this is Chief ****, Don's fine, but I'm just calling you to let you know there was an incident tonight. I'm gonna put him on the phone now, but I just wanted to let you know he was alright."
--oh, okay.......
I sat up in bed and listened to my husband's voice as he, too, started off by saying he was alright.
My half-asleep mind only kept wondering "Why is everyone telling me he's alright?"
It was then that I heard him say something about a shooting. A shooting. Someone had shot him, but he was alright.
Again with the "alright".....why does he keep saying that?
He then said he would tell me everything when he got home in a couple of hours. Not only did we live an hour away from the city, but he was also still being checked over and wrapping things up.
I sat up awake in bed until he came home. I don't remember how long we just sat and held each other --have I blocked it out for my own protection?
I do remember him telling me the entire story of what transpired. How my husband, this police officer, ran into a dark alley after a suspect. How the suspect pulled out a gun and shot at point blank range, directly at my husband. One bullet slammed into the 2-inch diameter pepper spray can hanging off my husband's duty belt, right against my husband's upper thigh/hip area. It pierced the can, exploding the contents into the material of my husband's uniform, sending shrapnel and pepper spray into my husband's skin. Two other bullets miraculously did not fire out of the gun, even though the gun was pointed directly at my husband.
My.
Husband.
The same husband who was a 16 year old boy giving this young 17 year old girl a huge chocolate heart for our first Valentine's Day together.
The same husband who was an 18 year old young man who cried in my arms the night his dad died.
The same husband who was my 19 year old groom at our wedding.
The same husband who was a 23 year old first time papa of our beautiful Lovely #1
The same husband who graduated from the police academy as I was pregnant with our beautiful Lovely #2
The same husband who arrived just in the nick of time, in uniform, in the middle of a shift, as I was giving birth to our Lovely #3
The same husband who worked all hours of the day and night, three rotating shifts, missing out on holidays with family, special events our girls were in, weekly church services sitting next to me.
The same husband who made me laugh when I didn't think I could, who held me when I cried, who supported my desire to homeschool our Three Lovelies, who sang silly songs at the drop of a hat, who built stuff out of his head without paper plans, who amazed me at every turn.
My.
Husband.
Their.
Dad.
I had to think of how we were going to tell our girls when they woke up. "Well, there's no manual for this." There's no one I can reach out to to ask, "What's the best way to tell your children that their dad had been shot by someone?"
Pray for wisdom.
Pray for strength.
Pray for a covering of their minds.
God's grace is an amazing thing. It's there right when you need it. It gives you strength to make it through unusual times. It helps block out thoughts that would otherwise bring things crashing down inside of you at the worst possible time. It helps carry you so you can carry others when needed.
Time passed.
About 6 months later, I had just dropped our oldest daughter off at her first Drivers Ed class. I was driving home, when a siren came screaming down the street, passing me by. It was at that moment that it all came crashing home --I had to pull off the road because the blinding tears just would not stop. I cried and cried and cried. I guess I finally allowed myself to think about how close we had come to losing the love of my life, the father of our children, the man of my dreams.
Time passed.
It's now been a little over 12 years. The events of this past week, in particular the memorial service today in Dallas, caused my thoughts to drift back to when our world stopped turning on its axis for a brief moment in time. My heart aches for those wives who will never hear the laughter of their husband's voice again, or be held by his arms again, or see him hug his children again. It breaks as I think of how they had to have a very different conversation with their children than the one I had with mine. I pray for them as they now have to face each new day alone. I pray for their children, as they will grow up without a father.
I tell this story as a gentle reminder. Police Officers are real people. Individuals. They are flesh and blood human beings. They are someone's husband, wife, father, mother, son, or daughter. They have children. They would love to go to church with their wives but can't. They would love to spend Christmas Day with their children, but can't. They would love to go to their kids' choir program, but can't.
They run into dark alleys when everything inside you or me would scream not to.
To protect.
And to serve.
--oh, okay.......
I sat up in bed and listened to my husband's voice as he, too, started off by saying he was alright.
My half-asleep mind only kept wondering "Why is everyone telling me he's alright?"
It was then that I heard him say something about a shooting. A shooting. Someone had shot him, but he was alright.
Again with the "alright".....why does he keep saying that?
He then said he would tell me everything when he got home in a couple of hours. Not only did we live an hour away from the city, but he was also still being checked over and wrapping things up.
I sat up awake in bed until he came home. I don't remember how long we just sat and held each other --have I blocked it out for my own protection?
I do remember him telling me the entire story of what transpired. How my husband, this police officer, ran into a dark alley after a suspect. How the suspect pulled out a gun and shot at point blank range, directly at my husband. One bullet slammed into the 2-inch diameter pepper spray can hanging off my husband's duty belt, right against my husband's upper thigh/hip area. It pierced the can, exploding the contents into the material of my husband's uniform, sending shrapnel and pepper spray into my husband's skin. Two other bullets miraculously did not fire out of the gun, even though the gun was pointed directly at my husband.
My.
Husband.
The same husband who was a 16 year old boy giving this young 17 year old girl a huge chocolate heart for our first Valentine's Day together.
The same husband who was an 18 year old young man who cried in my arms the night his dad died.
The same husband who was my 19 year old groom at our wedding.
The same husband who was a 23 year old first time papa of our beautiful Lovely #1
The same husband who graduated from the police academy as I was pregnant with our beautiful Lovely #2
The same husband who arrived just in the nick of time, in uniform, in the middle of a shift, as I was giving birth to our Lovely #3
The same husband who worked all hours of the day and night, three rotating shifts, missing out on holidays with family, special events our girls were in, weekly church services sitting next to me.
The same husband who made me laugh when I didn't think I could, who held me when I cried, who supported my desire to homeschool our Three Lovelies, who sang silly songs at the drop of a hat, who built stuff out of his head without paper plans, who amazed me at every turn.
My.
Husband.
Their.
Dad.
I had to think of how we were going to tell our girls when they woke up. "Well, there's no manual for this." There's no one I can reach out to to ask, "What's the best way to tell your children that their dad had been shot by someone?"
Pray for wisdom.
Pray for strength.
Pray for a covering of their minds.
God's grace is an amazing thing. It's there right when you need it. It gives you strength to make it through unusual times. It helps block out thoughts that would otherwise bring things crashing down inside of you at the worst possible time. It helps carry you so you can carry others when needed.
Time passed.
About 6 months later, I had just dropped our oldest daughter off at her first Drivers Ed class. I was driving home, when a siren came screaming down the street, passing me by. It was at that moment that it all came crashing home --I had to pull off the road because the blinding tears just would not stop. I cried and cried and cried. I guess I finally allowed myself to think about how close we had come to losing the love of my life, the father of our children, the man of my dreams.
Time passed.
It's now been a little over 12 years. The events of this past week, in particular the memorial service today in Dallas, caused my thoughts to drift back to when our world stopped turning on its axis for a brief moment in time. My heart aches for those wives who will never hear the laughter of their husband's voice again, or be held by his arms again, or see him hug his children again. It breaks as I think of how they had to have a very different conversation with their children than the one I had with mine. I pray for them as they now have to face each new day alone. I pray for their children, as they will grow up without a father.
I tell this story as a gentle reminder. Police Officers are real people. Individuals. They are flesh and blood human beings. They are someone's husband, wife, father, mother, son, or daughter. They have children. They would love to go to church with their wives but can't. They would love to spend Christmas Day with their children, but can't. They would love to go to their kids' choir program, but can't.
They run into dark alleys when everything inside you or me would scream not to.
To protect.
And to serve.
Tuesday, May 31, 2016
Listen and Remember
Memorial Day.....a day to reMEMber....a day to meMORialize....a day to pay tribute to all the fallen American soldiers in wars past and present. But how best to do that? I found out today --by simply spending time REALLY listening.
The Bud and I were working on some heavy-duty renovation projects this weekend. In the middle of one of our wall-building events (no lie), our next-door neighbor came over to check on our progress and shoot the breeze. Little did we realize the wealth of knowledge that would pour from this man over the next two days in the form of tips and tricks of construction to make our project much easier, less time consuming, and waaaay better on the stress meter ;)
But... in the midst of all this great info came other conversations as well. We began to understand this man a bit better as he relayed stories from his service during the Vietnam War. As we listened, we really began to HEAR how he lives his life today BECAUSE of his service during the Vietnam War some almost-fifty years ago. He gave reasons for his jumping at various sounds some of our equipment made while working on our project. His sleeping patterns have never been that great because of never WANTING to go to sleep in Vietnam, for fear of being ambushed. Rainy days are better than sunny days, in his opinion --rainy days are less stressful; no one wants to go outside, so there's less chance of anyone wreaking havoc. How a lot of people just will never understand what veterans have gone through; in his words, "no one understands that you have 40 years of nightmares to deal with."
The Bud is wonderful at listening to these men from the generation before ours as they tell their stories. I am learning. I am trying to take a page from his playbook and do this as well. I tend to want to hear the story more quickly and move on to the next thing. He, on the other hand, knows the value of taking to time to listen. He has gleaned much wisdom and knowledge from these conversations. I decided this weekend I was going to slow down and listen as well. So I did.
My God is amazing at timing and He shows love to all, with no partiality. Not only did He help me hone my listening skills, not only did he give The Bud someone to help him with quick tips, but He also allowed us to honor someone for their service to us all on the very weekend that is dedicated to that.....and all just by sitting, listening, asking questions, and hearing answers. .
I've seen lots of reminders for Memorial Day these last few days on Facebook and most of them were reprimands to us all about BBQ's, picnics, and days off. I understand the sentiment behind it, but I also think that taking time to listen to a veteran usually can only happen at BBQ's, picnics, and days off. We didn't have a BBQ or a picnic --in truth we were building walls and using sledgehammers (no lie)-- but I did have a day off and we spent it listening to a Vietnam War Veteran and for that I am one grateful American Citizen.
Thank You to all who gave some, and some who gave all.
Thursday, May 19, 2016
Refined
Next month The Bud and I will be married 32 years. This morning...well, just look at the picture. I cried my eyes out for a good long time, while my amazing husband tried to console me. These rings have been on my finger our entire married life, except for when I would occasionally take them off --as in this instance. Last night, I had been buttering potatoes for baking and figured they'd be safe in the cup of our juicer.....yes, in hindsight that does sound terrible, and writing it even now I'm thinking, "man that just looks and sounds dumb!" but i had done it once before and thought they would be safe there instead of on the kitchen counter. No chance of them being whisked into the sink and down the drain......yeah frown emoticon
This morning I got up and, as part of my morning routine, stuffed the juicer cup full of spinach, then carrots, then apple.....and started 'er up.....it did sound funny, but I just thought it was apple seeds rolling around in there.....but as it was louder than usual, i stopped it after a few more turns, not wanting to wake up The Bud. Then it hit me like a lightning bolt and I looked down at my hand and saw the indentation where rings should be and were not.frown emoticon
Still not wanting to wake him, i just stood there at the sink, weeping as quietly as possible wink emoticon But, being the perceptive man he is, he got up and came out to see what the commotion was, hoping that I had not swallowed a juicer blade or something! I had to hurriedly tell him that I was not hurt but had something sad to tell him.....and proceeded to relay my tale of woe. He, of course, was just glad I had not inadvertently hurt myself and was full of grace and compassion for my goofy mistake. We found the pieces by straining the juice through a sieve and salvaged everything we could find. He even offered to see if we couldn't take all of it to a jeweler, along with his wedding band, and see if they couldn't combine it all and make two new rings! You see, he hadn't worn his since becoming a police officer anyway (he never wanted his "clients" to know he was married), so it would be like both of us would be getting brand new rings wink emoticon What a sweet, inventive, and grace-filled thought. I love him so.
But I did tell him I'm not sure at this point what I may want to do with these remnants. Part of me wants to keep them as they have now become --being the pondering person I am, I figure they are a great metaphor for a real life, long term, life long marriage. It's hard. It takes work, commitment, compromise, and sacrifice. You learn how to not be so naturally selfish after a while if you want the greater good of a healthy marriage full of life and vitality. Life throws every imaginable ugliness at you and your spouse, either from outside or inside, during a life long marriage. But, if you determine that each of you is going to commit to what God intended, no matter what --no matter how life seems to grind you up, then each of you can weather it all --and weather it together.
If you look at the picture closely you will notice the engagement band fully intact and in one piece, as is the wedding band; yes, they're both battered and misshapen, but intact nonetheless. Two separate rings demonstrating one commitment. Both still unbroken, both still never ending. The broken pieces are an anniversary band, given to me by The Bud on our 12th or 13th anniversary....I could consider those pieces representative of times in our marriage where it looked dark and scary and felt ripped apart, but then it is surrounded by those two unbroken rings. And grace even comes in when, several hours later I go and examine the rings more closely, notice the diamond missing out of the engagement band, then go to the kitchen sink and find it in the drain plug, sitting quietly among the ruins of juice sludge and old lemons, teetering ever so slightly between the crevices where it would slip easily down the drain the next time water was turned on, but for the fact that I "happened" to go out there and look in the sink one more time.....yeah, that's my God.
One of my favorite portions of movie dialogue comes from one of my all-time favorite movies, "Yours, Mine, and Ours" --the OLD version with Henry Fonda and Lucille Ball --I think of it often when I read younger women's posts on fb about life and always want to give this as an encouragement to keep going, even when life gets hard with husband, kids, dogs, groceries, homework, etc --so here it is:
"I've got a message for Larry. You tell him this is what it's all about. This is the real happening. If you want to know what love really is, take a look around you. It's giving life that counts. Until you're ready for it, all the rest is just a big fraud. All the crazy haircuts in the world won't keep it turning. Life isn't a love in, it's the dishes and the orthodontist and the shoe repairman and... ground round instead of roast beef. And I'll tell you something else: it isn't going to a bed with a man that proves you're in love with him; it's getting up in the morning and facing the drab, miserable, wonderful everyday world with him that counts."
"I've got a message for Larry. You tell him this is what it's all about. This is the real happening. If you want to know what love really is, take a look around you. It's giving life that counts. Until you're ready for it, all the rest is just a big fraud. All the crazy haircuts in the world won't keep it turning. Life isn't a love in, it's the dishes and the orthodontist and the shoe repairman and... ground round instead of roast beef. And I'll tell you something else: it isn't going to a bed with a man that proves you're in love with him; it's getting up in the morning and facing the drab, miserable, wonderful everyday world with him that counts."
God is good, my friends, and He loves us so.
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