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  • Brenda's Blog (Page 3)

Nothing Can Separate

Brenda’s Blog – March 24, 2020

The news reports say, “Isolate… separate.” The Spirit of God says “gather, assemble, stand together.” We may be temporarily apart, but never alone. The presence of God is ever with us. As we pray, communicate, and encourage one another, we are the active, viable Body of Christ.

Our physical, earthly bodies may be quarantined, but the spiritual oneness through Jesus cannot be denied. Let’s stand one by one in the Spirit holding up the shield of faith to ward off the fiery darts of the evil one.

The old, old hymn says “No, never alone… He promised never to leave us, never to leave us alone.” We are One in Christ Jesus… we are brothers and sisters held strong in the bonds of love.

Be of good courage. Keep up the calls, texts, and messages. One day soon we will indeed greet each other face to face with a holy hug and kiss!

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Perspective

“The ceiling in Brenda’s main room is quite high and natural log – it is beautiful.”

I listened to Dad recount our field trip from Dallas to my new house in East Texas. His first comment about the house complimented the ceiling? How about the wood floors, the well-appointed kitchen, the spacious rooms in nearly 4,000 square feet? How could my always aware Dad comment on the ceiling?

This adventure occurred four weeks before his death. We loaded into the handicap van with him well-supported in his Barton Chair which was a combination of gurney and wheelchair. He endured the two and a half hour drive to see my next stop. The unspoken assumption was: “After Brenda is no longer a caregiver she will sell the Dallas house and move to the Piney Woods.” Neither of us ever voiced the words, but we each understood.

Our team of helpers helped me roll him in through the garage and into the main room. I positioned him in the “power corner” where he held court. Invited friends all took turns sharing stories, laughing, listening, gleaning wisdom, all the while knowing this would surely be an earthly goodbye-for-now. The Chair was positioned to give him as much comfort as possible while enabling him to rest which meant he remained for the most part in the gurney position. Unable to move around the house he maintained the same place for the sentimental journey afternoon.
Reflecting on the time as I listened to him on the phone the ah-ha happened. It hit me – that was what he saw. He was on his back looking up for most of the time. THAT WAS HIS PERSPECTIVE.

The Lord graciously kept my mouth shut. I didn’t rebuke him for the description of my new house. He was expressing the highest compliment – he was describing with great pleasure what he saw.

Perspective is personal; perspective is private; perspective is precious. How we view situations, people, or experiences flows through our own circumstances. To criticize another without considering all the facts is diminishing their value.

Understanding another’s perspective allows us to recognize their viewpoint. We may still wonder why a beautiful ceiling is their major point, but maybe we will stop and see through their eyes.

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Yummy

Brenda’s Blog – February 25, 2020

“Just try it… it is really good… really just try it.”

The chubby little boy in the breakfast room of the hotel earnestly urged his newspaper-reading Dad to take a spoonful of the yogurt. The child was on his third serving, so his recommendation was well founded.

The Dad looked over the paper, half-smiled, shook his head, and resumed reading his USA Today.

The boy loved every bite – and wanted to share it with his Dad.

I thought about the times in life when someone eagerly pulled me toward a most-loved activity of theirs… everything from piercing my ears, to zip lining. Needless to say, I responded much as the Dad. My ears are still without holes and racing down a wire high above the ground remains someone else’s dream.

Then I thought about the wonderful approach the son took. He found something that pleased him greatly, wanted to share the experience, and enthusiastically offered it. His energetic invitation made me want to go over and take a spoonful of his yogurt. He didn’t harangue; he didn’t knock the paper out of the Dad’s hands; he didn’t pout and create a scene – he merely enjoyed it so much all of us wanted to put some on our plates.

Finally, I thought about the Bible verse “O, taste and see that the Lord is good.” Isn’t that the way we share the good news of the Gospel? No Bible thumping, no shaming, no guilting – just an open, sincere invitation to experience the goodness of God. “He is really good – He really is… Just try Him.”

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Sign Language

Brenda’s Blog – February 11, 2020

“Love is free; Divorce is Expensive; Choose Wisely”

I laughed as I read the billboard sponsored by a local law firm in Arkansas.

Yes, it caught my eye. Yes, it made me remember. And yes, it made me think about the consequences of decision making. Emotional actions establish patterns which often have long-lasting and costly reactions.

A dear friend of mine left this earth for heaven several weeks ago. His influence lives on. One of the lessons he taught is the value of H.A.L.T. The way he phrased it is burned into my consciousness. Let me share it with you, hoping to give you the help he gave me.

“When you are preparing to make a life-altering decision, HALT! In other words, never make a life-altering decision if you are Hungry, Angry, Lonely, or Tired.”

I am rarely hungry (I am always prepared with a snack), but I can recite times when anger, loneliness, and exhaustion provided an atmosphere for bad decisions. The impulse to take control rises under those conditions – the drive to DO SOMETHING outweighs the ability to fully consider consequences.

That is the time to consider the cost of impulsive action. Wisdom says “Wait” when emotion says “Go.”
The billboard made me smile; HALT protects me from great mistakes.

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Perspective

Brenda’s Blog – January 28, 2020

“Convenience with no commitment” was the tag line for the movie theater club program. The promo showed all the benefits of paying $8.99 per month for the listed privileges. Finally, the screen filled with those words: “Convenience with no commitment.” Some marketing genius certainly took the pulse of the buying public.

Sadly, that is the tag line for too much of our culture, isn’t it? A social scientist years ago observed major changes can occur by appealing to two factors: comfort and convenience. We will actually give up our freedoms when driven by these two. It is a subtle transaction, but effective. We buy products which are not only new and improved, but provide ease. We hand over the keys to our lives for comfort. Hardship is not cool!

As we begin a new year, perhaps we can stop, do an evaluation of our values, and reassess the importance comfort and convenience play.
The second part of that phrase is unsettling – creating discomfort for me. “No commitment.” Decades ago Glen Campbell sang of the freedom he felt because no “ink stains on a piece of paper” kept him in the relationship. His bedroll stashed behind the couch was a testament to his love for her because she didn’t tie him down. As a “woman of years” I have a simple analysis of this philosophy: HOGWASH!

Until we plant our flag and say like Martin Luther, “Here I stand – I can do no other” we are still children. It takes courage, endurance, and tenacity to boldly persevere. This is true for relationships, jobs, community volunteer efforts, and even hobbies. Gladwell wrote about developing expertise saying it takes a minimum of 10,000 hours to gain mastery of a subject or skill. Imagine how many it takes to forge a healthy, lifelong relationship.

Deep roots are required for tall trees. A subterranean hole as deep as the building is high is necessary for skyscrapers. Commitment which stays the course is a critical element for maturity.

May we exchange “convenience with no commitment” for a true and lasting adherence to standing firm, even when it is uncomfortable, inconvenient, and just downright disagreeable, knowing the reward is great.
At the end of the first month, here’s wishing you “Happy 2020.”

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Time Passes By

“When we did that I knew we were old.”

My son in law told me of standing over the newly purchased washer mesmerized, watching through the acrylic lid as the clothes agitated. They paused, laughed, and knew they weren’t 25 year olds anymore.

I love to ask people when they first realized they were aging. Top of the list is usually, “When a young person called me ma’am or sir.” That is a startling rite (or wrong) of passage. Or, how about being given the senior discount without asking!

Last week my daughter and son in law hosted a dinner at my house. I proudly presented a stack of Christmas CDs after digging through many boxes. She graciously ignored my efforts as she quietly said, “Alexa, play Christmas music!” YIKES!

At church last night an energetic young staffer conversed with two of the deacons. “I retired in 2001.” Quickly, the youth worker responded, “I graduated from high school in 2001.” “Wow! That makes me feel old was the deacon’s response.”

Those are outward evidences we have turned more calendar pages than most, but “feeling old” is not the same as chronological age. “How old do you feel?” is a question I enjoy asking my 65+ friends. Rarely do I hear someone response “I feel every day of my 70 years.” Or, “I feel ten years older than my age.” Quite the contrary. Most of us put a pin at a point 5 to 10 years younger than the sundial reads.
Dad used to say, “I cannot stop getting older, but I can certainly refuse to get old.”

We can be told by the culture we aren’t riding in the fast lane, but we aren’t being flagged off the course quite yet.

Psalm 71 records David’s request for years enough to tell the next generation about the strength, mighty acts, and greatness of God. He didn’t ask for years of idleness, or total leisure. He sought time to speak to the next generation. We aren’t finished – we are still in the race with a clear purpose.

Okay, when I am told “nobody carries sacred sheet music anymore,” I can smile remembering the delightful hours of exploring music stores, but recognizing “time marches on.” When a kind person offers an arm when walking up a hill, I can accept the help knowing there is an agile young woman inside who is enjoying the assistance.

Aging is a privilege. At age 85 Caleb asked God for years to conquer a mountain in the Promised Land. Let’s carefully consider our requests. What is your mountain? What is your testimony to the next generation? The world may look askance at us, but little do they know what lies behind that gray hair!

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Clean-Up Time

Brenda’s Blog – December 31, 2019

“Ma’am, I have the old washer and dryer out. You may want to take this opportunity to sweep up before I bring the new ones in.”

“Take the opportunity…” What a smooth way to let me know there was 12 years of dust, dirt, and unclaimed socks on the floor. It made me think about the ways I could apply his suggestion.

What else could use a broom and mop? Not just around my house, but in my life. Yes, there are closets, cabinets, and shelves that need scrubbing. There are boxes of craft supplies that need to be moved on to grandchildren or community centers. I realized recently I cannot possibly live long enough to use all the plastic cups (in every possible color) I have accumulated.

Looking at “stuff” is the easy part. Transitioning to habits and life patterns is a tougher assignment. I began running an inventory of values. How loyal am I to Jesus? How faithful am I to following scripture? What captures my imagination? When do I find time for family, church, and community?

Then the broom in my hand starts to create a blister. What about looking at the way I spend my time, my money, and my energy? I used to say anyone could get a clear view of who I am if they could see my bank book, look at my mail, and review my day planner. Funny, how times have changed… no bank books, very little snail mail, and definitely no leather-bound day planner. But the analysis still stands with different online measurements!

The old adage “a new broom sweeps clean” still intrigues me. After cleaning up 12 years of washer and dryer litter, a new broom is on the shopping list.

The joy of God’s grace is in experiencing the freedom to take His opportunities to bring all the muck and mire to Him. He creates within us a clean heart. The appliance man had no idea where his kind suggestion would lead me this afternoon, but I am ever so grateful.

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Senior Moments

Brenda’s Blog – December 17, 2019

I distinctly remember the first time a younger person addressed me as “ma’am.” It struck me – what are they saying? “I recognize you are deserving of respect?” Or, “you look like you need assistance.” Or, even worse – “I need to be useful to that old woman!” YIKES.

Last month my younger sister and I traveled with a Bible study tour to Turkey and Greece. The instructions clearly stated, “Be prepared to walk up to 5 miles a day.” Of course, I could do that. I had no doubts whatsoever.

But “walking 5 miles a day” and hiking up and down ancient ruins and racing up steps to enter the Acropolis before it closed are not within that definition for me. I realized I have moved well past the ma’am stage to downright “Here, take my arm.” Quite a stunning moment.

In raising children I enjoyed watching their developmental steps: scooting, crawling, walking, toilet training and the best of all – getting their own breakfast on Saturday so my husband and I could sleep! There is a reverse developmental pattern, as well. But how stunned I was to see I have entered into the downward spiral.

We gladly gave our children assistance as they struggled to achieve the next plateau. I am not so gladly accepting the help so kindly offered as I devolve.

My Dad’s bedbound condition in his last years could have evoked a negative response. But he handled it with poise and humor. Accepting help was done with grace. He told others, “I am not disabled; I am delightfully dependent.”

Aging is both strange and wonderful. Being the object of ministry activity for others is strange; giving others an opportunity to show God’s care is wonderful.

I may not accept this downhill process as graciously as I should, but I will also seek to understand the way God can use this aging believer.

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Emotional Hematoma

Brenda’s Blog – December 3, 2019

(This is excerpt two from my book Divine Confinement, written during a seven year caregiving period).

“The blood has pooled creating a hematoma. Don’t put pressure on it, don’t pierce it, and it will naturally be absorbed into the body.”

Those were the instructions to Mom and me as she was being discharged from the hospital. But all she could see was a monstrous red mound on her tiny arm. “What happened?” “What caused it?” I think I must have learned cause and effect from this little woman who still searches for who to blame, desperately hoping it isn’t her.

This week Mom was hospitalized for a seizure and Dad had cancer surgery.

Those 13 words are the “what caused it” of my emotional hematoma. No one can see the bulbus gathering, but it is as real as was Mom’s on her hand. “Don’t bang it – don’t prick it – or you will cause damage.” The emotions of this week have pooled in my spirit and I need time to reach equilibrium and reabsorption. In Dr. Swenson’s great book Margin he talks about living in the red zone where we use adrenaline designed for emergencies in our everyday lives. I felt I was living there for way too long.

My emotional thermostat overheated. It is time for some coolant and time for some comfort. Hopefully, it will come through resting, not ingesting. Christ is the answer – not chocolate.

PS In April 2018 I was at Lindsey Wilson College in Columbia, KY with a team from the Breakfast With Fred Leadership Institute. After the evening session I stepped off a curb, went face down into the gravel, and was ungracefully raised up by two strong college professors. Nothing was broken, but my pride was badly bruised.

However, for the next 12 months I watched an enormous hematoma on one knee gradually reabsorb. Over and over I thought about the words I wrote during my caregiving time. This swelling on my knee reminded me again of the process, both physical and emotional.

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Divine Confinement

Brenda’s Blog – November 19, 2019

(Note) In 2005 I published a book titled Divine Confinement: Facing Seasons of Limitation. It was written during a seven year season of mine while my parents lived out their last days in my house. A section of the book was devoted to short personal responses. I called them “Musings and Amusings.” For the next few months I will share some of them as the bi-monthly blogs. Brenda A. Smith’s book is available as a Kindle book on Amazon here.

Divine Confinement

“You must feel confined.”

Just a passing comment, but it scored a direct hit in my soul. Confinement, yes that is exactly what I feel. I am under house arrest. I sit in my office, looking out the window much like Robert Louis Stevenson lay in a childhood bed of sickness, pretending grand and glorious adventures.

Sadly, I often go into an electronic stupor ad overdose on HGTV. But this isn’t a random confinement – this is one appointed by God – this is divine confinement.

I can either continue making chalk marks on the wall denoting time served, or I can see that this is really a learning lab created to mold me into usefulness. Haven’t I been confined before – a marriage gone bad, a broken relationship with a child, a job with no hope of success, an addiction to chocolate and ice cream, a mean and jealous spirit, a wandering heart — weren’t these all confinements?

But how much better to see God’s hand in this and know that He has the key and that He came to set the prisoners free. I won’t be here on day longer than I need to be and in an ironic twist, Mom and Dad won’t be here one day longer than God knows that I need them to be. Who is taking care of whom?

Aren’t they the stuff of which this confinement is made, so aren’t they the stuff of which the divine purpose will be constructed? And then, ultimately they will be my source of freedom for I will learn to trust Him, love them more dearly, and understand freedom is not lack of confinement, but the recognition that it is divine.

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  • BWFLI Impacts Lindsey Wilson College

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