Today I joined the throngs of people flocking to health clubs to get back in shape this week.  I shouldn’t have been surprised by the suddenly packed parking lot and the crowded fitness center at my YMCA:  in January alone, over one million Americans join health clubs each year.  And sadly, up to 75% of those quit their goals within the first three months. 

But today,  the place was teeming with people prepared to sweat off their holiday indulgences (cookies, anyone?).  I found an empty bike, adjusted my settings and hopped on, ready to tackle the imaginary trail ahead.  Twenty-plus wheels cranked, spinned, climbed and coasted up and down the virtual hills and valleys.  Twenty-plus bodies synchronized with the pounding music and our instructor’s commands.  Twenty-plus souls pushed, pulled, cycled and sweated to gain some strength and burn a boatload of calories in our quest for fitness.   We felt proud.  We felt strong.  We felt high on the endorphins.  Well, actually. . . we were gasping for air, trying not to throw up and on the verge of total exhaustion, but not just yet.

At that moment, we were full of hope.  Full of optimism.  Full of energy.

Can you imagine how much hope, optimism and energy fills America’s health clubs in the month of January every year?  One million new souls, believing that this year we will really get back in shape, conquer those demons, and get on with a healthier lifestyle.  It’s a valliant effort, even it costs us over $18 billion per year, and it might be short lived.  I’m part of it, in my own sporadic way. 

But I can’t help thinking about all of these people who come out of hiding this week.  What if we could capture all that new energy and put it toward a different purpose?  What if we could harness it and channel it to last the whole year through?  What if one million people used all of that energy and optimism to promote a different kind of health–-not just body-sculpting–-but a community-building kind of health?   

What if, instead of just working out, a million newly energized, motivated people could instead work together to:

• feed someone. . . toward stamping out hunger
• tutor a child. . . toward improved literacy
• give to a charity. . . toward ending poverty
• visit a church (or temple, or mosque, or someone who needs a friend) . . . toward a better community

What if. . . ? 

Imagine the possibilities.  

Where would you channel these one million energetic, hopeful people?

(This was originally posted in January 2009)

At the crack of dawn on Sunday, the women came to the tomb carrying the burial spices they had prepared.  They found the entrance stone rolled back from the tomb, so they wallked in.  But once inside, they couldn’t find the body of the Master Jesus.

They were puzzled, wondering what to make of this.  Then, out of nowhere it seemed, two men, light cascading over them, stood there.  The women were awestruck and bowed down in worship.  The men said, “Why are you looking for the Living One in a cemetery?  He is not here, but raised up.  Remember how he told you when you were still back in Galilee that he had to be handed over to sinners, be killed on a cross, and in three days rise up?”  Then they remembered Jesus’ words.

–Luke 24:1-8, from Eugene Peterson’s paraphrase The Message:  The Bible in Contemporary Language

May we all remember to look for the Living One not in the darkness, but where the Light shines.

Happy Easter, one and all.  He is risen indeed. 

photo credit: dtcchc

*****(1)*****

Today Christians commemorate Good Friday in preparation for Easter Sunday.  I must admit, I’ve always wrestled with the concept of calling the day of Jesus’ crucifixion “good”.  Yes, the heart of Christianity rests on the death and resurrection of Christ, so I know the ultimate sacrifice on this day is inherently “good”.  I’ve studied many theological explanations of what happened on that cross.  Still, even though I have faith, it’s still hard for my wee little brain to grasp or explain. 

Tony Jones, however, explains it in a way that resonates with me.   It generated quite a debate in his comments (I’m drawn to those controversial theologians, I guess).  If you’re curious, check out Tony’s Good Friday post over here .

*****(2)*****

I have hope–dare I say it?–that spring is on its way in Michigan.  We had a snow day last Monday, but it melted away quickly and life is just beginning to peek its way through the crud.  It’s a long wait in these parts, but it inspires a huge celebration of spring–people pour out onto the sidewalks, spirits lifted, and really appreciate the sun on their faces. 

Kinda like Easter after Good Friday.

*****(3)*****

As spring arrives, we’re more likely to put on a happy face, so I thought I’d sneak in a picture of my son singing “Put on a Happy Face” at the Tappan Middle School production of Bye Bye Birdie last weekend (thanks for the photos, Lichee!):

He’s on the far left peeking under the brim of his too-big hat.  We’re still basking in the glow of this amazing community production showcasing the talents of just 180 middle schoolers. 

*****(4)*****

Did I mention that Minnie Driver, who happens to be filming a movie in our town, visited the Bye Bye Birdie cast and offered insights on starting her acting career in middle school?   Is it okay that I felt somewhat jealous, especially when my son had no idea who she is?

*****(5)*****

Speaking of community productions, I’ve been thinking about how people build community:  why is there so much community support and participation in some circles, and less in others?  What makes it “click”?  I welcome any insights.  More to come on that topic.

*****(6)*****

Last night, I noticed my middle son’s shoulders were a little broader, his voice a little stronger, and his demeanor a little. . . tween-er?    And oh yes, the type of underwear I buy is suddenly very important.  It sort of snuck up on me, but I think boy #2 is growing up too.    Thank goodness I still have my little girl.  But she wants to be a teenager so badly that she’s not acting so little any more either. 

You know what, though?  It’s a really fun ride.

*****(7)*****

Speaking of growing up, we’re approaching the weeks when TWO of my kids have “health” courses (code for sex ed) coming up at the same time.  In the heat of spring.  That’s gonna be. . . a fun ride.

On that note, I wish you all the blessings of spring, with all the beautiful celebrations and traditions, including Passover and Easter this week.

our tree

The days after Christmas are actually my favorites.

The packages are opened, the food is served, the kids are busy, and gift cards are waiting.   And yes, we have tape stuck on the carpet, tags and ribbons everywhere, stocking stuffers with no home, a humongous pile of garbage/recycling, and a slight sense of guilt for the abundance. Still, I feel like the real vacation begins today. Now I can enjoy the family time, play games, and relax together without the pressures of holiday hype and preparation. I could wax on wondering about how we’ve distorted Christmas with our high expectations, but for now I just want to enjoy the aftermath.

I’ve just recently learned that the “Twelve Days of Christmas” we’ve sung about for so long actually begin on December 25th.  Maybe you all knew that, but my wise ten-year-old son clued me in and then I noticed smarter bloggers with posts on the topic.  The traditional Christmas actually begins on December 25th and runs until Twelfth Night on January 5th, followed by Epiphany, the celebration of the arrival of the magi at the manger in Bethlehem.  Which, historians say, actually happened a couple of years after Jesus’ birth (this part I knew!).

This year, it seems especially fitting to me that the spiritual part can begin after the cultural part is done.   For my twelve-ish days of Christmas, I’m looking forward to a sabbath time of sorts with my family.  No partridges or maids-a-milking, though.  Now that the boxes are checked and the big stuff is done, I hope to reconnect, regroup, rewind, and recharge my spirit for the new year.  I’m hoping this will be easier than trying to manufacture the “best Christmas ever”, but of course there are five of us in the house, with all that that entails.  We’ll see how it goes, and of course, I’ll keep you posted.

Here’s wishing you the best aftermath ever.  Whatever your traditions, I hope you find the last week of 2008 peaceful and rejuvenating.

Our golden doodle Copper and a fresh pile of snow

Vacation began a day early last Friday with a foot of snow at our doorstep.  What a great way to start Christmas!  Visions of sledding, hot cocoa, baking (um. . . maybe), and cozy family time danced in our heads.  Two weeks of happy family harmony. 

Right.

By 8:30 a.m., echoes of yelling, crying, hurt feelings (and possibly bodies) wafted up my basement stairs.  ”Oh joy!” I thought,   ”time to nip this in the bud, or it’s going to be a long vacation.”

So I pulled out my favorite technique to force inspire sibling communication.  Each child is sent off to write a letter expressing how he(she) feels and what he(she) might do differently next time.   I try not to require mandatory apologies, but they often come naturally with the process. 

The results this time:

From N, age 10

Dear K,

I am sorry I called you those names.  It wasn’t right.  Next time I won’t call you names.  Next time I will control my anger and ask you to not annoy me.

And from the other:

It feels to me like the cookie currency in my town is getting out of hand.

Don’t get me wrong.  I love cookies as much as the next girl.  I like to bake, and I like to eat, and I’m happy to do my fair share.  I believe cookie making is festive and heartwarming for those who bake and those who partake.  But is there a point when too much is. . . too much?

When I moved to the midwest years ago, I quickly realized the Christmas cookie culture was big.  It feels like every woman worth her salt (except me) gives up a full weekend to make a zillion dozen of a zillion different kinds of cookies for the world.  Where I grew up, some people –those who thrived on baking as their love language– did this, but not everyone.  I do make batches to give as teacher or hostess gifts.  I enjoy baking a few dozen for our church’s cookie walk fundraiser.   I’ve learned to make extra for my family to enjoy at home, or I buy more at the cookie walk for a hefty sum.   It’s for a good cause. 

But that’s not enough.

There’s the cookie parties.   Everyone brings at least two, three or four dozen cookies to trade and share with everyone else.  When it’s all done, you get to bring home a small plate of assorted cookies.  But where, pray tell, do all the other cookies go?  Does every person at the party eat three dozen cookies?  It’s a mystery to me.

And that’s not all.

We have the church, school, and extracurricular cookie-driven events.  Typically, the night before every event, someone sends an email requesting “just a couple dozen homemade cookies” as your admission ticket.  Plus a small, insignificant but witty, beautifully wrapped gift.  No big deal.  Just whip up a couple dozen from your perfectly stocked pantry or pull it out of the massive stash you prepared the day after Thanksgiving.  Oh, you didn’t?  Oh dear.  Might want to think about that next year.

Then there’s the family.

When your children find you whipping up that last minute batch, they’re crushed if there aren’t “just a couple dozen” to eat at home.  So you make more. . . more. . . more to dial down the whining.  Then your husband, who is trying to lose weight, doesn’t want a cookie in sight in fear that he’ll gobble them up in one sitting.  So you conceal. . . stash. . . scarf the evidence to support his efforts.  Even though you’re jealous of his willpower.  Because you’re nibbling “just one” of every tray coming out of the oven. 

I think I’d have to make at least 20 dozen cookies to meet everyone’s demands requests, and it’s enough to put me over the edge.  Please tell me, invisible internet people:  who created this madness?   Who eats all of these cookies, and what do we do without them the rest of the year?  I love cookies, I do, but I’d like to make them on my own terms.  In the age of increasing obesity, over-the-top stress levels, and my own slloooowinng metabolism, is this the way it should be?   Could I be overreacting, becoming a scrooge-ess over  just a couple dozen cookies? 

Never mind, don’t answer that.  If I have to ask, I already know the answer. 

Step away from the oven, sister.  Just say no to the cookie conspiracy. 

I must admit, I’ve been slow getting into the Christmas spirit.  Maybe because we traveled for Thanksgiving weekend.  Maybe because I’ve been working most weekends lately, while all the “good moms” are cooking and crafting and bonding with their families.  Maybe it’s because I’ve been trying not to get too caught up in all the Christmas hype, with the unintended obvious result that. . . I wasn’t getting caught in the hype.  At all.  Yet. 

This isn’t exactly typical for me.  I took notice, but for some reason I decided to not let it get me down.  I just tried to let it flow.  I knew the spirit would come in its own time.  It always does. 

This weekend a few things helped me turn the corner: 

• I still worked all day Saturday, driving all over the metro area, but somehow I noticed the beauty of the light snow rather than getting frustrated with the traffic.
• When I got home, I found a gorgeous, ten foot tree, lights almost done, and the living room vacuumed and organized.  I felt so grateful for my husband’s efforts that day. 
• My eldest enjoyed what he called a great day:  the Christmas tree, last minute basketball tickets, and his first bar mitzvah party.  I took pleasure in his excitement. 
• This morning, our church children’s choir sang a teaser for the afternoon Christmas musical.  My children had been practicing, but I had not been very attentive.  As I sat in the pew, a single angelic voice introduced the first few lines.  It was my second son.  I wasn’t prepared–no camera, no coaching, and I almost couldn’t see him.  The surprise brought me joy (with a little guilt).  Maybe that’s how it was meant to be.
• We wrapped up the day with the classic children’s pageant, family tree decorating, and Sunday dinner out.  I found comfort in the traditions. 

A pastor once reminded me that we need not feel badly if we’re not ready for Christmas the day after Thanksgiving.  The season of advent is about anticipation and getting ready.  We go through the traditions to warm up and prepare our souls for the coming of Christ. 

This year, I wasn’t quite ready.  My soul isn’t quite there yet.  But going with the flow, being in the moment and anticipating the joy to come is helping me turn the corner. 

Have you turned the corner yet?  What helps you transform your holiday spirit? 

 photo credit: seemownay

My friend Diane sent me this Thanksgiving message that I pass on to you today.  I send it to raise awareness of our own blessings, not to impose guilt or remorse.  I’m firm believer in “to whom much is given, much is expected.”  So please, enjoy the day–relax, refresh, renew your soul–so you can bless another, in what ever way you can.  And if you need to receive this season, please enjoy the bounty.  

If you woke up this morning

with more health than illness,

you are more blessed than the

million who won’t survive the week.

 

If you have never experienced

the danger of battle,

the loneliness of imprisonment,

the agony of torture or

the pangs of starvation,

you are ahead of 20 million people

around the world.

 

If you attend a church meeting

without fear of harassment,

arrest, torture, or death,

you are more blessed than almost

three billion people in the world.

 

If you have food in your refrigerator,

clothes on your back, a roof over

your head and a place to sleep,

you are richer than 75% of this world.

 

If you have money in the bank,

in your wallet, and spare change

in a dish someplace, you are among

the top 8% of the world’s wealthy.

 

If you hold up your head with a smile

on your face and are truly thankful,

you are blessed because the majority can,

but most do not.

 

If you can hold someone’s hand, hug them

or even touch them on the shoulder,

you are blessed because you can

offer a healing touch.

 

If you have read this message,

you are more blessed than over

two billion people in the world

that cannot read anything at all.

I sure could!

This article from Chick Moorman and Thomas Haller always gives me a lift.  I’m printing my favorite snippets; please read the complete article here.

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Special Thanks This Thanksgiving
By Chick Moorman and Thomas Haller

Millions of parents will pause this Thanksgiving to do what the day was originally created for — give thanks for the many blessings that exist in their lives. . .But what if your appreciation this Thanksgiving took on a new look? What if the blessings you count this year included situations that aren’t usually regarded as helpful, useful or valuable? Consider the following:

Why not be thankful that your child is two years behind grade level in his reading ability? This struggling reader is giving you the opportunity to read to him regularly at night. This evening ritual will help build connectedness between you and your child while at the same time modeling your love for the printed word. Great literature can be shared as you simultaneously bond with your child. This opportunity is an incredible blessing. Appreciate it. . .

Why not be thankful that your teenager received a speeding ticket? Getting a ticket is not a bad thing. Not if your teen learns from it and slows her driving for the next year. If she takes personal responsibility, pays the ticket, and is more cautious about her driving, the ticket may well save her life or the life of someone else in the future. Bless the ticket and give thanks for its blessings.

Why not be thankful that your 8-year-old shoplifted in the grocery store? This is the perfect time to teach your child about shoplifting. Better now than when he helps himself to someone else’s car when he is 18. Teach him how to make amends. Teach him what to say as he returns the candy bars to the storeowner. Help him learn to articulate what he learned and what he intends to do differently next time. Bless this perfect time to teach lessons about taking things that don’t belong to you. Be grateful for the opportunity.

Why not be thankful that your youngsters track mud and sand into the garage and house? The next time you stand in the garage furiously sweeping sand and wishing that your children were better behaved; quietly remind yourself that one day you’ll wish you had sand to sweep out of the garage. Love the mud. Love the sand. Be grateful for the signs of the presence of children in your life. . .

Why not be thankful that your adolescent asked you about sex? This is a great sign. It means your child trusts you enough to talk to you about sex. It means she is not getting all her sex knowledge from the street. It means you have moved beyond “the talk” to having an ongoing, honest conversation about the important subject of sex. Congratulate yourself. It is a blessing that you are willing to fulfill that role for your child and that she is responding to it positively. Give thanks. . .

Why not give thanks that your child is spilling milk, talking with his mouth full, wiping cranberry sauce on his new pants, refusing to eat his vegetables, and interrupting his grandmother at the dinner table this day? It means you have more work to do as a parent. It means your job is not yet done. This is a blessing. You are still needed to help your child learn to pour milk more carefully, improve his table manners, learn to eat nutritiously, and show respect for elders. Give thanks for these opportunities. . .

This Thanksgiving remember that parenting is a ministry. It is a sacred role that you are being called to perform. Give thanks that you have been called. Give thanks that you are willing to step forward and accept that call. Appreciate that you are being shown the way. Celebrate yourself and your contribution to healing the planet by helping your children evolve into the people they were meant to be. You are a blessing to the world. Give thanks that you are up to the task.

Happy Thanksgiving.

Chick Moorman and Thomas Haller are the authors of The 10 Commitments: Parenting with Purpose. For more information about how they can help you or your group meet your parenting needs, visit www.chickmoorman.com or www.thomashaller.com.

_________________________________________________

Ah. . .so many new things to add to my list of 1000 gifts!

What about you?  What non-traditional things are you giving thanks for this year?

photo credit: Wiedmaier

For those who celebrate Christmas (or any other December holiday), how does that make you feel?  Excited, energized, and full of joy. . . or stressed, panicked, and overwhelmed? 

Before you jump onto that Christmas machine, take a look at this video (it does have a Christian focus, and I think it has a valuable message for people of all faiths):

Maybe, with the uncertain economy, this will be the year my family shifts our focus during the holidays.  Even just a little bit.

What about you?  Are you doing something different this year?