Spaghetti Sauce

Two years ago I was in Seven Days of Creation and made a commitment to have several hours a week set aside for "creative outlets of my choosing." I worded it that way because I knew it mattered to me to have that creative outlet but I wasn't too sure about what it looked like.

As it turned out, my favorite creative outlet is cooking. I have a vast collection of cookbooks and I can truthfully tell you, I've read them cover-to-cover. When I get a cookbook, the first thing I do is read it all; then I cook something from it.

Since Seven Days, however, I've been spending more time developing my own recipes as well as honing those I have had for years. My spaghetti sauce recipe was handed down from my mother who is a great cook. It's my recipe now, though, because years of adding my special tweaks has made it my own. One of the creative results of all this extra cooking has been "Spaghetti Madness Thursdays," a line stolen from a long forgotten movie. Nearly every Thursday, pasta is on the menu and hands' down, the family favorite is this quite ordinary sauce.

Fair enough, all this creative kitchen time has not ended any wars nor fed any of Austin's homeless. No one will see the results in a gallery nor will a Noble Prize for Kitchen Wizardry (though I think it's a good idea) be awarded. But what is true is that for the last two years, I have had a lingering sense of satisfaction because week in and week out, I've been doing something peculiarly creative and personal. And that, in turn, has sourced my work which is, as the day ends, about something noble. Wheeee!

The Wake-up Call

17 years ago last month, a friend of mine (Mike Warren) said, "I think you're ready for Life Training." I had no idea what this training was, but he was a very good friend and I respected him, so off I went. I had no inkling that this one weekend would shape the next decades of my life. Mike told me the weekend was a "wake-up call;" a gross understatement if there ever was one.

This course (and the subsequent ones, especially WOW) have made a profound and lasting difference in my life. I have learned to see all that comes to me in my life as pure gift; an opportunity to wake up, to see who I am, to forgive myself and others, to choose my next step.

When I took More to Life, I was holding on by my fingernails. I was on a self-destructive path through one relationship after another and barely getting myself out of bed day after day. I had surely had my share of hard things to deal with in life-- but that is true of everyone -- isn't it? I had always been a church-goer and while I agreed that I should have faith, I had no idea how to be "faithful." My view of the world, of God and of life was cynical, at best.

Today I have the "how." I am a person of passion and purpose. I wake up every morning with a song in my heart (if not on my lips) and realize I have everything I ever wanted. I am actually living my dream life.

More to Life isn't a magic show or a series of tricks. It isn't a fix-all or panacea. It was the beginning of my journey of waking up to take radical responsibility for my own life and happiness. It's a work in progress. It's about me - day after day -- looking at the people, circumstances, challenges and issues God brings to my life and saying THANK you. And then having the courage to dig deep and find the gift in each of those people, circumstances, issues and challenges.

Today is the 80th birthday of one of the co-founders of More to Life, Brad Brown, now deceased. On this day, I am thankful to him, to his co-founder, Roy Whitten, and to God. I am grateful for "the wake-up call." I am thankful -- so thankful -- that on the occasion of my own last breath, I will know that I have lived my life fully and faithfully, that I have embodied my vocation and that I have done my part to leave behind an inheritable world. Thank you.

New Life - New Half Century

I didn't mind turning 50. I was actually quite excited about it. And I am thrilled that it came so close to Easter, with all of it's hopefulness.

About 20 years ago, I started a gratitude journal. Every day, I wrote down at least three things I was grateful for. At the time, I was engaged in that hand-to-hand combat with life. I was struggling. Struggling against what was, struggling against it all being so hard, struggling for what should be. When I began focusing on all that was right and beautiful and noble in my life, I became less focused on what I didn't like. In the intervening years, I have spent more and more of my time in gratefulness. Yes, I still struggle. But I more quickly notice the "wall" and find my "yes" to what is. I am more able to see the gifts and graces and less likely to think I know how "it" should be.

Fast forward to yesterday, when I turned 50. I am looking at 50 as a halfway-marker. I have had a half-century so far to do what I'm on earth to do. As to the other half, I know for sure I have this moment and I am making it count! I would be very blessed, indeed, to have another half-century to live out my calling but just in case I don't, I'll make the most of today. And tomorrow, for as long as that is given to me.

As we celebrate the season of new life, I am going to be looking closely at what it is I am giving life to. I will sow seeds of hopefulness in the world. I will share what I've been blessed with in a way that brings about new life in others.

I am made of light
. . . . and bird-song
. . . . . . and hope

And that is what I have to offer others. Happy Easter!

Two Lessons from Birds

We call him "tappy." For the past several years a pair of cardinals have lived in our yard and every spring the male goes a little nuts. We have a high window in our room that isn't curtained and every spring morning between 7:00 and 8:00, Tappy shows up to defend his territory against the brightly colored foe in the window. There must be something about the clarity of his reflection that time of day because it is the only time of day he does it.

For 30 minutes to an hour, he tries various of angles of flight to finally defeat his daily foe. He pecks at the guy in the glass until he just can't go on, then rests for a few minutes on the window ledge to recover. Then back again over and over until the sun moves and his enemy disappears.

Albert Einstein is credited with defining insanity as "doing the same thing repeatedly and expecting a different outcome." I notice that I am a lot like the cardinal, banging my head against the same wall over and over, magically expecting things to turn out differently. And often the enemy I'm fighting is only in my head.

Yesterday, I was pausing at a traffic light and noticed a bird in the grass just a few feet from the freeway. As the cars and trucks zoomed by he was slowly and carefully enjoying the fruits of earth. It was a beautiful spring day. Occasionally he'd lift his head and gaze in a direction while he slowly ate. I watched the light breeze ruffle the feathers on his head. It could have been my imagination, but he looked serene. He had to have known about the traffic whizzing by, but chose to remain oblivious to it, focused on the task at hand.

I am challenged, at times, to focus on what I'm doing and not to get all wrapped up in all that is going on around me. Moreover, I am learning to take time to enjoy the beautiful day while going forward with whatever I'm working on.

So notice what your limits are, take time to let the breeze ruffle your feathers, and have a beautiful weekend.

What's in a word? Warrior.

I love words. They are so telling.

Take, for instance, the word warrior, as described in my trusty online dictionary:

1. a person engaged or experienced in warfare; soldier.
2. a person who shows or has shown great vigor, courage or aggression, as in politics or athletics.

from Dictionary.com website

I believe each of us, every day, is a spiritual warrior and that we are more or less successful at it every day. Sometimes, we are called upon to be aggressive or be courageous or show "great vigor" in the subtlest of circumstances. For instance, I may be called upon to vigorously defend my decision to take care of myself. You may be required to aggressively uphold someone's dignity, or your own.

I know an amazing family who are spiritual warriors of the highest ilk. They have courageously chosen to love in the most difficult of circumstances. They have given their home, their food, their time and, honorably, their hearts to three little children they did not bear. They have had to take this stand -- the stand to courageously love -- over and over as the court decides these babies' fate. They have done so in the knowledge that heart-break is not only possible, it is likely; they have done so with amazing grace and finesse.

Do they -- or we fight these battles without fear or trepidation? I dare say that often we do not and we are indeed aflutter. The choice to pursue victory over these tribulations is not a mere velleity; these are not battles taken up in simple haste.

Hence that word, warrior. If what is required of us were simple, there would be no ascendancy. What is required to be a spiritual warrior is that we face into the fear as well as the battle; that we stand there with our quaking knees and trembling spirits. And, as well, that we use that sword to cut away the chaff; to constantly seek and find our path amid the weeds and clutter so that what is truly meaningful can emerge and shine forth in us.

Happy Sunday!