CHAPTER NINETEEN

CHAPTER NINETEEN

In all the travels of the Israelites, whenever the cloud lifted from above the tabernacle, they would set out. Exodus 40:36

SunFloJo says, “I’ve got an idea!”

She announces as we eat, “Let’s start offering to meet folks at the Tap Room tonight. If they’re already going that direction, then we’ll mention it. Since Ted is meeting us anyway, let’s make a party of it.”

Absolutely. Of course. Let’s dream up a party right here in the woods. Anything is possible.

After hours of seeing no one today, we are surprised to see someone approach the trail intersection right on queue after the idea is born. 

A man walks to us from the south. He is on the path we will eventually walk on the AT.

“Hi,” he says.

I wonder, What is he eating?

The man pulls plants from the side of the trail and munches on them.

Upon closer look, he is not mountain man romance material for the younger gals.

Sunshine Rat asks him, “So what is that direction like?”

“Not too bad. Up and down some, but I’ve seen worse.”

Yeah. If he’s talking about steep inclines and declines, we’ve certainly seen worse too.

He heads north.

Then we see who I assume is a man and wife couple in their sixties perhaps. “Oh,” I say to the woman.  “I love your shirt!”

Her navy t-shirt has a simple AT blaze splash on the front as if someone took a paint brush stroke from a tree and painted her shirt instead. She appears to be very clean. The shirt is crisp, like brand new.

I hope these clean people don’t smell us.

My shirt and pants cling to my body. When sweat drips from my hairline, I am careful to wipe it away from my eyes.

“Thank you,” she says. “I think I got this in a gift shop at Harper’s Ferry.”

SunFloJo chews pepperoni and the last of her cheese. She asks, “Are you hiking the whole AT?”

I smell the man’s aftershave, so I guess the answer is no, but he does surprise us with a sweet story.

“We have friends in Florida who are here finishing the last of their almost 2200 AT miles. We came to walk with them for a little while.”

“Yes,” the clean woman shrills. “They are twin 80-year-olds. They’ve been walking about 200 miles each summer for 10 years. This year they will finish!”

80-years-old? Twins? –I’ve got to get in better shape.

And what-do-ya-know, here they come along the trail! Two matching ladies walk up to us from the south. They each have short white hair, trekking poles, and the biggest smiles.

The man says, “They can’t hear too well.”

SunFloJo is all over this. This moment may mirror her in 20 years. “Hi!  We hear you’re finishing up the AT?”

The twins nod.

One of them hears better than the other one and tells us a little about their journey. “We started the trail in the most difficult spots like up in Maine when we were early 70’s.”

“We just like walking. Thought this would be a good retirement activity.”

They share, “Our combined trail name is Happy Trails.”

Inspiration surges through each of our hearts. What an incredible story. The fact that these sisters have walked almost 2200 miles sinks into my mind. Wow.

And how wonderful it is that their friends came to meet them in the forest to witness and celebrate the last steps? Beautiful.

After the foursome walks on to the north, SunFloJo says, “Did you see their beautiful legs? So shapely for 80!”

We continue to eat. A redhead young man and a dark-haired young girl approach, “Hello!”

Greetings are exchanged.

“What are your trail names?” SunFloJo asks.

When they speak, we recognize their British accents, “I’m Samsquatch,” He says. “And she is The Boss.”

We snicker, “Why is she The Boss?”

He answers, “Because we were dating and trying to decide what to do in our gap year before university. We’re from the U.K. and gap years are a thing where we are from. She heard about the AT and drug me over here to hike.”

“I thought it would be cool to say we did this,” The Boss adds.

The parent in me asks, “How does your family feel about it?”

The Boss answers, “My mum worries because I can only check in every few days when we find an outlet to charge our phones.”

I bet. But really, what a great way to spend 6 months of your gap year!

“I try to tell mum that we’ve met people on the trail and that everyone checks up on everyone else. There are logs along the way to sign and people look for your name.”

Samsquatch adds, “Yeah, sometimes you hang with a group for a while. When you need a rest day a bunch of us go in together to share a hotel room, or a shelter, or a shower.”

Another dark-haired young gal walks up from the south. Clearly, they know each other.

“What’s your trail name?” I ask her.

“Olive Oil.”

She is adorably thin and tall. Olive Oil smiles.

SunFloJo asks, “Are you alone or do you have a partner?”

With confidence she replies, “I’m kind of alone overall, but you’re never really alone out here. I hang off and on with a group of people.”

“Like us,” laughs Samsquatch and The Boss. “And sometimes we get perks because we’re British.” There’s a chuckle between the three of them due to some inside joke along the way. “Like hotel rates or restaurant rates.”

“Americans have been good to us.”

Well, put that on a billboard. I’m glad to hear that.

The Boss continues, “We’ve got to make our money last. We’ve made it to the midway point of our hike so far.”

We exchange pleasantries, “Nice to meet you!  Hope you have a great second half of the trip.”

Then we see one, two, three,…NINE men approach our lunch location. This intersection is proving to be a high foot traffic area. 

These men book it to our spot like a locomotive machine. Their legs move in unison and they vary in ages and athletic ability. Some sweat profusely. I imagine because they are trying to keep up.

I look them over and say, “I see some genetic similarities among you.”

They nod with testosterone pride. “We’re the dads,” three of them say. They point down the row of others, “These are our sons, he’s a cousin, and he is a son-in-law.”

Wow.

“You guys were really trucking it,” I say.

“Yes, we are heading to Big Meadow.”

“Oh, yes, us too, but via Lewis Mountain first. That’s where we left our vehicle,” I say.

Noticing some of the younger ages, SunFloJo says, “Hey, we’re inviting people to the Tap Room tonight at Big Meadow. If you want to join us, then you’re invited.”

The most senior dad says, “We will keep that in mind.”

Out of the corner of my eye, I see Stalker C’s eyes widen. She looks at me and looks at Sunshine Rat, then tilts her head south toward the trail. 

Now I see what she means.

Well, well, well.

Look who it is!

Shut-Up-Guy is heading our way. 

The jaws on three of our faces drop while SunFloJo continues chatting it up with the nine man train.

Sunshine Rat, Stalker C and my eyes follow Shut-Up-Guy as he passes behind our visitors and continues at a fast speed. His eyes meet our eyes only briefly at one point.

SunFloJo is still talking, “And do you gentlemen have trail names?”

Main Leader Dad says, “No.”

He shakes his head as if none of his crew deserve the gift of a trail name. It’s starting to make sense to me why so many of his crew are an out of breath, sweaty mess. They’ve been trying to keep up with Main Leader Dad. Ah hah. That’s your trail name in my book. 

Main Leader Dad takes a pepperoni stick from Sunshine Rat’s hand without asking.

Perhaps dude needs a manners life skill workshop from the non-profit back home? 

Stalker C, Sunshine Rat and SunFloJo eye his behavior as he lightly fingers the length of the pepperoni.

My ballpark interpretation is that he thinks this is good packaging for meat, easy to transport. Has he not ever seen pepperoni sticks?

He nods approval and hands the stick back to Sunshine.

Then Main Leader Dad looks at SunFloJo. She is wearing her moisture wicking khaki shorts and fuchsia shirt with a black bandana around her head. 

Time stops. I hear a metaphor of angels in heaven open with an ascension chorus “ah ah ahhh”. 

The sunlight shifts through the trees and casts a spotlight onto SunFloJo. The man lifts his arm and points to our friend, our leader, our SunFloJo.

He says with all authority as if he is knighting her or blessing her through the air, “You are SteelCut.”

The Steam Team freezes over this announcement.

The men who we later affectionately call The Nine Testes have spoken. 

And just like that, they walk off quickly in unison.

SteelCut?!

I think that name does fit as an alternative for SunFloJo.

Stalker C says to SunFloJo, “Did you see who sped by while you were knighted with a possible new name?” 

“Who?”

“Shut-Up-Guy from our first night.”

Sunshine Rat chimes in, “What are the odds we would see him again?”

Seeing Shut-Up-Guy makes us all laugh. We replay a key event from night one.

I say, “I promise” and Stalker C says a low, “Shuuuut Uuuup!”

While we laugh, two guys approach coming from the south.  They introduce themselves as a father-son team. “We’re staying at the resort.”

There’s a resort nearby? I had no idea.

“Cool Shirts,” I say referencing their neon gym workout t-shirts.

The son shares, “We work out at the same Cross Fit together.” He pauses then adds, “To get ready for hiking we added cardio.”

Something about the way he said “added cardio” makes the Steam Team stifle giggles. 

Our rest and refuel window of time is closing.

I say, “Hope you have a great hike. We’re about to take off in the direction you came from.”

We zip up.

It is time to chase this journey’s end.

Can you imagine meeting people like this out in the woods? These ladies are so cool! There are several articles and news clips about them on the internet.

Stay tuned for the next chapter.

If you prefer to listen, my podcast is called Surrender On The Trail.

Accept Help

Things are better for our family today than they were one year ago.

Or, today compared with the last seven years, seven years that got progressively worse until I thought my brain and heart might implode.

I felt fear typing the word “better”, but it is true.

Thank God.

And, thank people.

A key thing I learned especially the last three years was that help comes from the most unexpected places: complete strangers, acquaintances, neighbors, some friends, some family. There was a time when I would have refused help or tried to do it all my own.

I stopped being embarrassed of our mess and started saying yes.

Someone I trusted but did not know well sorted my jewelry and personal items. A team of painters from a church different from our own church came to our house for over a week, most that I did not know. Someone I barely knew out of town paid our electric at just the right time when I was debating the order and deadlines of bills. Grocery gift cards arrived. Encouragement came in the mail from both sisters (by blood and marriage) at just the right time every time. Someone ran a marathon to fundraise so that Hubby could get a mobile scooter. A friend spent 36 hours removing stubborn wallpaper at the condominium. One room had four layers! Eight women over 60 years old showed up to pack their cars with Rubbermaid containers to transport from garage to garage so that we could save time and money on moving day. This paragraph could be much longer with stories of miracle people showing up, but you get the idea.

One thing that rolled around in my head was that people do what they can when they can. I did not expect anyone to help. I think it is dangerous and mean to expect people to be there for you. For example, I am not a fan of Facebook chain posts that end with “and I think I know who will respond.” Yeah, no, at any given time, you do not know what someone is really experiencing or what they can make time for this minute or in this season of their life.

If you are going through a tough time, just be open without judgement. Say yes to those who emerge from the clouds. In addition, when you can, make sure you help others too. There are plenty of opportunities to be there for people when you can. Over the years, I have really enjoyed giving quietly when I was able. It was humbling to be on the receiving end. And, it was necessary to accept help. We would not have made it otherwise. Thank you to many.

When we have frustrating days now, I observe how quickly my mind thinks, “Thank You for my problems.” Right now involves acceptable water treading with a little space and capacity to roll with the waves. I feel the physical and mental stretch daily but nothing like recent years.

Last summer I was fortunate to visit Thorncrown Chapel in Eureka Springs, Arkansas. The building is constructed with glass walls that provide a sanctuary in the woods.

While there, I thought about its openness to nature. I considered my openness to surrender.

Surrender means saying yes to God through the stress. Surrender says, “Sure you can sort these items in my bedroom. Seems like a personal place, but let’s go for it.” Surrender says, “Thank you for adopting my son to celebrate his high school graduation in ways that I would not have been able at that time to provide.” Surrender says, “Yes, please interview and find us the best realtor for our situation.”

Surrender is also the word that came to mind back in 2016 when I was out of shape and said yes to a near week long hike on the Appalachian Trail with a team of women.

I knew the ground was sliding under our family’s footing. Something was wrong. I thought I was losing my mind over our oldest son going to the military at 17 years old. Maybe if I ran away to hike and sleep outside, then I could get alone with God to work out my mixed up feelings.

However, there was more.

And, God was preparing me.

“Surrender on the Trail” became the title of the manuscript I wrote about our wild experience in the woods. Imagine four women committed to staying outside to maneuver rocks and mountains for 35 miles. Imagine getting lost in the rain at nightfall. Imagine tears and flies buzzing with an incredible 4,050 feet view above sea level.

I am thinking about publishing one chapter a week here on the blog. What do you think?

The manuscript has been complete and edited for a long time. Something in my heart does not feel like continuing to query publishers or literary agents right now. What if I make it available here?

People from 34 countries read this blog last year. What if I simply share?

If you have comments or ideas about this idea, please let me know.

Thanks,

Psalm 121:1a ~ I lift up my eyes to the hills. Where does my help come from? My help comes from the LORD….

Valentine Antidote

It is that day when I promise once again that next year I won’t be in town on Valentine’s Day. I will be with girlfriends or on a beach, on a mountain top, anywhere else doing something–anything–not so ordinary.

Valentine’s Day is a double whammy. It’s also my birthday. Growing up, I loved celebrating with red hearts, white paper lace, pink streamers, balloons and all things Valentine.

As an adult, I realized many people have jumbled emotions linked to February 14. Happy feelings, angry feelings, dread, anger and so forth.

Then I married someone who expresses love inversely to what I anticipated. Let’s just say his first romantic gift was a bright yellow personal alarm to wear on my waist so I could pull the cord for it to wail and screech if someone nefarious came too close to me on my college campus.

We’ve worked it out. It’s taken a lot of tears and years. I’ve learned that the antidote to my occasional sad feels is to have less expectations, ask for something specific if desired, support or help others.

These days, ALS-21 plus a Pandemic make it so Hubby can’t get out to shop, or walk much, or feel good for a full day. I am happy simply when his words are kind. I like thoughtful and kind. Lately, I’ve been quietly thanking the writers of Call The Midwife. Hubby really likes that show. I call it his daily empathy exercise. Women have been through so much and that binge worthy series does not shy away from hard topics.

Speaking of writers, my feel better about Valentine’s Day activity this year was to support authors I care about. I directed Hubby to my wish list and he placed the order. I was excited to open the packages.

Janine Rosche is an author who picked me up off the floor when I received a bad news phone call at a writer’s conference. She prayed with me. Then I found out she was looking for a certain agent to meet. I am thrilled to say they met indeed and are three books into a successful journey. I now have a trifecta of inspirational romance to read:

William Klein’s book was lost in our move so I needed a replacement copy. This is a timely fictional story about a painful border experience.

And Jessica Terry is a writer that cracks me up with her Instagram stories. Like me, she was a basketball player in her youth. We’ve never met. I appreciate her work ethic and passion. So, I soon will read:

Who would you like to support? Someone creative? An organization that does something you value? Church? Someone elderly or ill? Doing a little something for others could brighten your Valentine’s Day. Earlier in the week, I called a couple people who I hadn’t spoken with in a few years. It was a good time on old fashioned phone calls.

Frequently, I think of the verse Love One Another (John 15: 12). Loving others does not result in only one direction of good vibes even when that should be our intention. When you love others, the good feels return to fill your heart and strengthen the weave of the universe.

Still in town,

P.S. Hubby also visited the Shari’s Berries website. Winner. Yum.

But Not The Baby’s Wagon

Once upon a time, back when I thought I was tough, when I believed wholeheartedly that life will be what you make it, when I never cried at movies or much of anything besides a broken heart, my future husband and I took a road trip.

He played his favorite songs through the car cassette player. “Listen to Sammy Kershaw,” he said. “If we are going to get married, then we have to promise never to let this happen.”

The song was Yard Sale. The lyrics played:

Cardboard sign says yard sale
Real estate sign says sold
Family picnic table
Holds all that it can hold
On the grass and on the sidewalk
Well there must be half the town
Ain’t it funny how a broken home
Can bring the prices down

Oh they’re sortin through
What’s left of you and me
Paying yard sale prices
For each golden memory
Oh I never thought
I’d ever live to see
The way they’re sorting through
What’s left you and me

You left two summer dresses
In the backyard on the line
A lady just brought them to me
Says she thinks they’ll fit just fine
Well there goes the baby’s wagon…

By the time the baby’s wagon is sold, my lips are quivering.

Tears. What the heck?

And ever since that 19 year old day, I joined in on his idea of divorce not being an option.

When Hubby was diagnosed in 2017 with ALS-21, soon could no longer work, and he had to crawl if stairs were involved, I saw the dim light arrive over the home we once were determined to grow old in together.

I knew we’d have to leave.

And I knew our very real children’s wagon was in the garage. Do our sons need it anymore? Uh, no. Did we love it and use it a lot? Yes. That wagon toured the neighborhood many days, helped with Halloween, Cub Scout popcorn sales, and gardening.

I have cried about leaving our home for weeks while keeping my body sorting, packing, dragging, etc. Moving out of a home you’ve lived in over 20 years is more of a feat than a project. Plus, when leaving is a “have to”, the work can be extra painful. My heart resisted while my body ran the metaphoric marathon.

Then I learned that a 5 year old is part of the new family who bought our house. Turned out, she would like to have the wagon.

Take that, ALS-21! You can not have our babies’ wagon!

And that made me feel good. The wagon will live on in our neighborhood for a little while longer.

We are 4 hours into condo life without overlap with the house. There is a peace in seeing Hubby get around much better here. My mind & tired body will settle into the peace soon I hope.

Speaking of marathons, next Sunday Lisa Zupan is running 26 miles for two causes. One of the reasons is to help purchase a scooter and car lift for Hubby. If you would like to donate, click here.

God bless you through the many chapters of life.

Love,

Glenna

Goodbye, House.

Have fun, Wagon!

New Greeting & COVID-19 Writer Observations

Social distancing among the smart people was in full effect last week.

And darn it, I needed to leave my home to go to the rare event that was not cancelled.

I knew there would be a small number of people I’d never met, people who I want to know, people who are focused on a shared mission, people who agreed in an advance email that we would remain more than 6 feet apart the whole day.

I am a solid hand shake and smile person normally. What do I do now that COVID-19 is here?

I gave it thought well before I entered the ghost town building in downtown Cincinnati.

When I saw the first new-to-me person, I met their eyes with my eyes, paused my inertia way short of their personal space and gave a little namaste nod with a smile. No spittle.

We acknowledged the awkwardness verbally and moved to opposite corners of a large room to re-disinfect our personal tables. I made eye contact with other new people in other corners.

We agree from yards away that we are all good with continuous disinfecting and using a paper towel to open doors when it may not be not possible to prop open a door. Throughout the day I mentally lean in my eyes to their far away eyes to connect in agreement with certain things said. Or, to look away when I did not agree. Oh, and there were the pressed lips, eye brows raised “mmm hmm” moments when someone said something totally on point.

I felt like we got to know one another and accomplished our project over two days. Then I left to work from home as much as possible. Leaving and returning to the house requires a serious self-sanitize process. I am not messing around with what could hurt my family or anyone else’s family.

In this new pandemic world, there are observations that strike my writer/artist brain.

People find new creativity when traditional communication has been altered. Social media is a full spectrum of posts from the inspiring to funny to nice-attempt-but-missed to tasteless memes. Humans need their outlets.

When my brain will focus, I read the long emails that once seemed unnecessary or painful. Phone conversations are the golden prize. I try to have at least one every day. How many years has it been since a phone call about work or general friendship stuff has been relaxed and allotted time without being rushed?

I love hearing people talk about how they discovered that the word cancelled can be spelled appropriately with one l or two. Makes me think, Welcome to my world. I look up things like that all the time.

And can we take a minute to celebrate the creative IT staff all over the world? They have been prepping to help people work remotely for years. Information technology is its own special kind of art. You rock!

My prayers flow right now especially for healthcare professionals and for humans to remain well or to recover from illness.

I predict a post-pandemic automatic door installation surge in public buildings and the remodel of doorless bathroom entrances.

Let’s help others by staying home. We can do this, Earth People. Flatten the curve.

For those who can make time, please use a thesaurus to find other words for “unprecedented”, although I am not sure there is a better word for this time in history. Can we mix it up a little?

Oh, and it is “uncharted waters” not “unchartered waters”. It’s tricky. I know because I already messed that one up once or twice.

Love from a distance,

Glenna

Isaiah 26:20 ~ Go, my people, enter your rooms and shut the doors behind you; hide yourselves for a little while until his wrath has passed by.

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P.S. My hair dryer broke this week. Am I running out to buy a new one? Nope!

Uber Conversations

Me, Myself and I spent extra time in the car together this week: after work four evenings, before work one day and once again Saturday night.

I try to be a quiet driver unless the passenger seeks to engage. There are lots of new people I can pray for. The 22 year old trying to figure out which direction she wants to go in life. The 58 year old with occasional seizures so he needs to let someone else drive. The couple who try to communicate but circle into frustrated dead ends over and over. The silent. The headphones. The laundry and the women who lug it home up flights of stairs. The young man who wanted to know what the heck flying pigs have to do with Cincinnati.

Now that I understand how to use the Uber App, the job is becoming more fun. I invested $6 into a handsfree device for the dashboard. I love it as in, “Where have you been all my life?”

Probably most fascinating are the Uber Eats runs. I find these are helpful to stretch my legs and to boost income for the night. I do worry about car wear and tear with the stopping and starting but try to remember that I have been running these same errands for free for my family for years.

I wonder why someone who appears to be able bodied needs Subway delivered from one block away. I am amazed by a delivery charge that cost more than the chicken rings they want from White Castles.

“Stop judging any of it,” I tell myself.

“Practice not thinking at all.”

“Everyone has reasons they do what they do.”

Then, “Ok, this delivery makes sense. The person lives in a place that is a difficult distance from the restaurant.”

Hubby says I need to remember people spend $8 on a daily cup of coffee without thinking about it.

Mostly I think, “Good for them. Time is money. Maybe this delivery helps the person with their self-care or maybe this helps their family spend more time together.”

And my second most often thought is, “I am grateful.”

Extra thanks to those who tip which is only about 15% of people so far. Your generosity helps.

Matthew 7:1 Judge Not….

Uber Stress

There was no calming my heartbeat. Blood rushed through my body. My back and head hurt. I was scared.

It took me 3 weeks to set up Uber on my phone. I knew how to use Uber as a passenger. I did not know how to be a driver. The app is so simple that I was confused. I watched driver YouTube videos and tutorials, uploaded my car related documents, but understood little. I gathered that in order to learn, I must go do.

I told Hubby Saturday evening that I was off to try my best. We are in the 10 day financial crunch period of the month so this gal’s gotta make extra dough.

Seemed like there is not much trip action for drivers in Kentucky so I nervously headed toward Ohio to a sketch neighborhood that showed fares available on the map. Gotta rip the band-aid off, I told myself.

Suddenly the phone beeped while I was still in Kentucky. I had a trip request. I pushed “accept”.

The app directed me to Bonefish Grill. I looked for a human, then realized I was there for a food pickup.

Ooohhh.

Inside the building, I felt the little kick in the stomach that sometimes comes when I see couples out having fun. Couples without wheelchairs everywhere.

Aside from that soon squelched jealousy, I wanted to scream, “This is my first time with Uber!”

So many thoughts.

Servers brought the food bag. I hoped it was all in there. I glanced at the number of containers, but I am not familiar with that restaurant’s food.

Off I went 10 miles to find house numbers in the dark.

A nonchalant woman took the food after I called her.

8 dollars earned. Was that enough of a trial run or should I continue?

I see a “$5 bonus for 3 series” trip on the map. I am not far away so I head that direction thinking, What type of person needs 3 back to back trips? Will this be a grandma who needs to run a few errands? At 930pm?

Shows how clueless I am. That was simply an enticement to stay in an area and do multiple trips.

Which was fine, bonus either way. My first passenger was named the same as my best friend’s daughter. That gave me comfort. She was a sweetheart too.

At one point, I felt lonely on top of my newbie anxiety. Then inbetween trips, I received a text from my bestie seeing if I was out giving Uber Driver a go. It meant a lot to be checked on and she reminded me of Joshua 1:9 at the very moment I had made $19.19.

Then our 17yo texted at 11:30pm to ask, “Everything ok?” before he went to bed. That warmed my soul.

I stopped around midnight with 5 total trips and 45 dollars. Thank you to Madeline and Autumn who tipped. I can’t figure out if there is a way to say thanks through the app.

That is all I could handle on a first go. No matter how I tried to be calm, I couldn’t manage to be relaxed in this new arena yet.

I’ll keep my car clean and try to pick up more this week.

For the Lord your God is with you wherever you go. Joshua 1:9

The In-between

Welcome to the in-between weekend.

  • Christmas lights are hit or miss now.
  • It is hard to remember today’s date.
  • New Years is coming.

I’ve heard some grumbling and sadness around town.

Maybe you are a Have-Not who listened to The-Haves talk about expensive gifts received.

Perhaps you just heard, “but we’ll always be friends” as he shared he is serious about a new relationship.

It’s not even break up season yet. You were blindsided.

Or your mini vacay to-do list is not close to done.

Did you use all the energy you had to cope during a time of grief?

Fear not.

To the person who needs to hear this today, you are valued exactly as you are.

You matter.

Order and routine will be restored.

It’s ok to take a nap.

Embrace what is and give it to God. Allow the feelings to pass through your body so you can move on. If you fight emotions, the pain lasts longer.

As for that to-do list, tackle something manageable first.

This is a good time to pray, praise, rest, connect to your source.

Reset for 2020.

Remember there is a time for everything. Don’t beat yourself up in this short window.

Ecclesiastes 3:1-11 There is a time for everything, and a season for every activity under the heavens: a time to be born and a time to die, a time to plant and a time to uproot, a time to kill and a time to heal,

a time to tear down and a time to build, a time to weep and a time to laugh, a time to mourn and a time to dance, a time to scatter stones and a time to gather them, a time to embrace and a time to refrain from embracing,

a time to search and a time to give up, a time to keep and a time to throw away, a time to tear and a time to mend, a time to be silent and a time to speak, a time to love and a time to hate, a time for war and a time for peace.

What do workers gain from their toil? I have seen the burden God has laid on the human race. He has made everything beautiful in its time.

How may I pray for you? Dm me with prayer requests for the new year.

Love,

Glenna

Chicken Salad Vacation

Two of my favorite self-care options are “time with a friend” or “time away”.

Time away can be almost anything out of the ordinary. A vacation would be nice, but since that is not an option right now, I manage to find even small amounts of time and declare them to be vacation minutes.

Oxygen in. Oxygen out.

So naturally when my friend Deb invited me to stand in line for the Grand Opening of the Chicken Salad Chick restaurant in Oakley, Ohio, I was lured in by a double win potential. Time with a friend and the first 100 people in line would win FREE chicken salad for a year.

Ummmm…out-food guaranteed monthly? Yes, please.

I set my alarm for 4am. I made a checklist of equipment needed: folding chairs, Cudl duds, triple clothing layers, boots, hat, gloves, a scarf, and a book to read. I downloaded the Chicken Salad Chick App and read the Grand Opening rules.

The temperature was 20 degrees as I pulled into the parking lot to find my friend taking a selfie next to the “first in line” sign. She became famous for the next several hours! People were in awe of the line leader. “What time did YOU get here?” people asked her many times.

My face froze into a smile. We set up camp and settled into the cold darkness. I visualized that the parking lot was a beach just ahead of my toes.

We giggled a bunch when we learned the first three of four people in line were named Deb! What are the chances?

3 Debs

We saw the kindness of strangers help one another with various challenges. Extra blanket? Extra chair? Information and legendary tales of how this works? These were no problem for complete strangers to handle in the dark before dawn.

The Chicken Salad Chick employees, photographer, and Chamber of Commerce arrived as daylight approached. The wise employees brought us toe warmers. The line grew.

I watched my Deb of the three Debs manage a conference call as if she was not freezing. I busted out laughing at the contrast of her serious work and the fact that we were waiting in line for a chance at free food.

When the dark sky turned winter white, I felt a ping of sadness. The fun was nearly over.

After the official store ribbon cutting, we scanned our free chicken code proudly as Miss First In Line #1 and Good Friend #2.

We sat with the new friends we made in line and already have a favorite Chicken Salad Chick employee. Shout out to Tamika!

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Then we headed to work. Back to reality. It was a good tiny vacation!

May peace find you this holiday season–perhaps in a most unexpected way.

Love,

Glenna

Ecclesiastes 2:24 There is nothing better for a person than that he should eat and drink and find enjoyment in his toil….

* This post is dedicated to Dr. Phil of Marysville, OH because Deb and I (or Ethel and Lucy as he sometimes calls us) think you’d get a kick out of the story!

* And extra love to my Hubby who I simply told after leaving the house “I may have a fun story to tell you later”. I was so frustrated with home life the night before Chicken Salad Chick bliss. Then he sees me on Deb’s Facebook and types, “Who is that lady with my (his) hat and gloves?!” He can be a pretty funny guy.

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2 Free Gifts

“I have no gifts to bring parum pum pum pum...”

I feel the Little Drummer Boy’s pain in this season of life.

You may not have material items to give others, but there are free gifts you can give to friends and family during the holidays and throughout the year.

1. CLEAN SOMETHING. Recently in borrowed work space someone said, “Oh, we are not going to sweep. It was already a mess when we got here.” That comment made me feel sad. Aside from the fact that sweeping is on our checklist, I believe in leaving places better than they were whenever possible. The broom and dust pan stood in the corner. I collected debris in 5 minutes. No one may notice, but I know that caring for someone’s space is an act of love and appreciation.

Deposit positive energy. At someone’s home, you can do dishes without making a fuss or be the person who collects discarded wrapping paper. If the trash can is full, then take the bag outside. Don’t draw attention to yourself. Just do the deed that alleviates someone else’s stress.

2. GIVE QUIETLY. Long ago someone told me about how a visiting family member was helpful but then offered a whiny soliloquy about how they mopped the floor and how they ran a load of laundry. Listen, no one wants to hear about the dust bunnies you cleared or the obstacles you faced when searching for the perfect gift. Have a funny story? Then maybe share. Or ask yourself, is your intention to draw light to show how you should be noticed for your efforts? If so, then no. Hush.

Do you volunteer at church? Then do it with grace. People need the peace that can be found in church rather than the distraction of a grumpy volunteer.

Did you just clean your house for guests? Are you exhausted because cleaning was way overdue? Then check yourself before opening the front door. Don’t greet people with your stress. People need your warm welcoming smile.

Just do or not do…quietly.

We could talk about being present for others. We could talk about self-care and doing less around the holidays. We could talk about the Mary and Martha story in the Bible. As much as we hail Mary for simply being with Jesus, there’s a place for Martha in the story too.

An able bodied someone can help others in the spirit of love and kindness without any need of accolades. With ALS in our home, I often find myself silently thanking God that I have legs that can climb stairs and a body that can bend to pick up things. I don’t say that out loud to Hubby, but I do lift my thanks to my Higher Power. Quiet gratitude renews my spirit even in the moments when my body wears out for the day.

Martha might not be mentioned in Luke 10 if she gave quietly.

Be a stealth Bible Martha.

And please take out the trash & recycling–quietly.

Love,

Glenna

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