For any of you that live in Northwest Indiana you know we have had our fair share of rain lately. The Kankakee River is over its banks by 4 feet, the Calumet River at flood stage, some farm crops are under water, basements are flooding, water is coming up around some homes and I’m sure many other rain related problems are out there.
One of those problems is close by and affects a neighbor. I live on a hill and behind me there is only one home and it is to the North. They also own the woods behind us and the lower ground which is at least 200 feet down the rolling hill from me. The lower ground often floods when we have excessive rain and this time was no exception. Of course this is not something that pleases my neighbor but, as I told them, it’s like I am living near a small lake, which I have no desire to do long term but it brings me pleasure during its brief visit of a week or two. I enjoy watching the sunlight on the water and the sunset from my vantage point. To the best of my knowledge it causes no real harm because it is low land and doesn’t affect any homes. My neighbor, who owns the land, says it has recently been designated, by the town, as a flood plain. I’m not exactly sure how they can do that since he owns it, but that is another story and I will not get into it.
My story is about White Heron. Yes, White Heron, but I want to regress for just a moment by saying that every rain storm produces a rainbow somewhere. This June many rainbows have been spotted. Some of the rainbows were double and triple while others were complete visible circles. There is promise from God in a rainbow and just the thought of them makes me smile. When the lake is on the lowland below rather than a rainbow I often spot Canadian Geese or ducks testing the newfound waters. They become my rainbow of promise. However, this time was different. Late one afternoon my husband, Lonny, told me he thought he saw white birds flying on the lake below but, as we studied the area, none were visible.
Morning dawned early, as only it can in the summer, and I was up making coffee when I looked out the kitchen window and down the hill to see two absolutely beautiful white birds standing in the water. It was no time before I spotted two more. Oh my, what unspeakable joy. I was so excited and called to Lonny to hurry into the kitchen as I told him he had been right and there were white birds on the lake. I could hardly keep my eyes off of them. I was relatively sure they were White Heron but went on the web and into one of my favorite bird books to get confirmation. Indeed, they were White Heron. I have no idea how many times I looked out the window that day. I thanked God for sending them and woke the next day to see they were still there. Mid-afternoon I noticed four more and then even more flew in and suddenly there were eighteen beautiful Heron dining on frogs and fish that had spilled over from Cedar Creek and flooded the land below.
Since mentioning this to others, I know Heron have been around here but usually only one or two and never on the flooded ground below. Maybe the Lord just wanted to remind me that He really has it all under control. I had been complaining that it seemed to rain every day so He sent me eighteen, elegant creatures of His creation to let me know not to worry, rainbows were everywhere.
I know the heavy rains have been causing havoc for many people and they are far from happy right now, but as is so true of every storm in life, there will be rainbows and, in this case, breathtakingly beautiful White Heron to remind us that all is never lost and every storm holds the promise of a rainbow.
Inspirational Quote
I do set my bow in the cloud, and it shall be for a token of a covenant between me and the earth. Genesis 9:13
Quote for this Blog
If you want a rainbow you have to put up with the rain. Dolly Parton
Friday, June 26, 2015
Saturday, June 13, 2015
A Mile in Their Moccasins
Under the Maples Series
It was a busy day at Cornerstone. One waitress worked Victoria’s Garden, the largest room, and my daughter, Beth, was working the President’s Room and the Inner Court. This story begins in the President’s Room. The room was full and at one round table there was a very cantankerous old gentlemen that was being extremely difficult to please. When Beth came to the waitress area and I saw her face, I asked her what on earth was wrong. She rolled her eyes and responded that she had a difficult table in the President’s Room. “There is no pleasing him,” she said. I have tried to be nice but I am at my whits end. The rest of the people at the table seem happy enough but,” then she shook her head and sighed a sigh of desperation before adding, “I’m running out of patience.” I looked at her and smiled, “You say you’ve been nice to him, which I am sure you have, but now go in there and be even nicer and kill him with your kindness.” Since we were busy there wasn’t much time to debate the issue but I saw her face and watched her square her shoulders as she readied herself for the next attack that she was determined to meet with even more kindness.
I lost track of the incident soon after as more pressing issues, such as desserts, required attention. I say that humorously but when you have a restaurant filled with people ready for homemade desserts, you better act. It was spring and I had baked a Raspberry Torte Cake, Peach and Blackberry Crunch, Rhubarb Pie and for those who felt dessert meant chocolate, there was a double chocolate parfait. Happily this was a dessert day and they started disappearing rapidly and, since it was a day we’d only be open until three o’clock, the kitchen was cleaning up and the workday would soon end giving us a few minutes to recap. The cooks were happy and the waitresses pleased with their day and it was reported that the cranky gentlemen remained cranky but there were no further problems.
Now this may not be exactly how it happened, but remember it was years ago and what I am telling is as close to truth as I can remember and, frankly, it is the moral of the story that is important and that is intact.
It was four or five days later when the old gentlemen and his four companions who seemed to be his family again joined him for lunch, this time in the Inner Court. As luck would have it Beth again had his table and yes, he was still difficult but she had made a decision to be kind and go the extra mile and that is what she did. This scenario was repeated again and then again. Beth made a point of waiting on the group each time and the fourth time she noticed quite a difference in his attitude. He talked to her kindly and even tried a smile. Kindness had reaped a plentiful harvest. When they were about to leave that day the woman, I thought might be his daughter, approached Beth and talked with her for a bit before following the others out. I had no idea what was being said but soon after Beth appeared in the waitress area with tears in her eyes. The woman had told her thank you for being kind to the old gentleman because he had cancer and was often in pain. He felt people didn’t care but he had decided Beth did care about others and he appreciated her kindness. It changed everything. As time went on, he became gracious and expressed his pleasure at dining at Cornerstone.
Ed, as we will now refer to him, came in many times with the others. It turns out they were not his family but were understanding friends who reached out to him and took time to show him compassion and love. He appreciated their kindness as he did Beth’s and a friendship of mutual respect blossomed. It was nearly a year before the visits became less frequent and then stopped. Both Beth and I felt the distress. We knew the reason was that he had become much worse and maybe even died, which is what had happened. It was months before the caregiver’s came in. They said it was so hard to come without Ed. We understood and we all cried together. They again thanked Beth for her kindness because it had been a blessing to them as well as Ed. It was a priceless gift to both Beth and I. You cannot put a dollar amount on knowing you did the right thing. I do believe it blesses you more than the receiver.
I’m relating this story because I think it is an important lesson for all of us. It is so easy to judge people as cranky, mean or disagreeable and others as rude and genuinely unkind. I always try to remember that often I know nothing about them. I don’t know if they just lost a spouse, a child, other family member, best friend, or if they have been diagnosed with a deadly illness, or are in a messy divorce, or maybe work for an impossible boss and can’t find any peace. Life’s circumstances can cause people such distress that they really don’t care how they appear to others nor how they make them feel. To my way of thinking there is only one thing that can turn that misery around and it is genuine kindness, a heart full of love and many smiles. Do they deserve it, probably not. Do they need it, yes, yes, yes. One of my favorite quotes is the old American Indian saying, “Never judge a man until you have walked a mile in his moccasins.” Whatever tribesman said it originally displayed great wisdom and compassion for others. I first heard it as a closing comment on the Johnny Cash Show years ago. It stuck with me and I try to live by that principle and believe the world would be a better place if we all practiced it.
I enjoyed sharing this story with you because it means so much to me personally. God bless you for reading it and may you always remember to be kind.
Inspirational Quote
Proverbs 15:1 A soft answer turneth away wrath; but grievous words stir up anger.
Quotes for This Blog
You cannot do a kindness too soon, for you never know how soon it will be too late. ~Ralph Waldo Emerson
“A kind gesture can reach a wound that only compassion can heal.”
― Steve Maraboli, Life, the Truth, and Being Free
It was a busy day at Cornerstone. One waitress worked Victoria’s Garden, the largest room, and my daughter, Beth, was working the President’s Room and the Inner Court. This story begins in the President’s Room. The room was full and at one round table there was a very cantankerous old gentlemen that was being extremely difficult to please. When Beth came to the waitress area and I saw her face, I asked her what on earth was wrong. She rolled her eyes and responded that she had a difficult table in the President’s Room. “There is no pleasing him,” she said. I have tried to be nice but I am at my whits end. The rest of the people at the table seem happy enough but,” then she shook her head and sighed a sigh of desperation before adding, “I’m running out of patience.” I looked at her and smiled, “You say you’ve been nice to him, which I am sure you have, but now go in there and be even nicer and kill him with your kindness.” Since we were busy there wasn’t much time to debate the issue but I saw her face and watched her square her shoulders as she readied herself for the next attack that she was determined to meet with even more kindness.
I lost track of the incident soon after as more pressing issues, such as desserts, required attention. I say that humorously but when you have a restaurant filled with people ready for homemade desserts, you better act. It was spring and I had baked a Raspberry Torte Cake, Peach and Blackberry Crunch, Rhubarb Pie and for those who felt dessert meant chocolate, there was a double chocolate parfait. Happily this was a dessert day and they started disappearing rapidly and, since it was a day we’d only be open until three o’clock, the kitchen was cleaning up and the workday would soon end giving us a few minutes to recap. The cooks were happy and the waitresses pleased with their day and it was reported that the cranky gentlemen remained cranky but there were no further problems.
Now this may not be exactly how it happened, but remember it was years ago and what I am telling is as close to truth as I can remember and, frankly, it is the moral of the story that is important and that is intact.
It was four or five days later when the old gentlemen and his four companions who seemed to be his family again joined him for lunch, this time in the Inner Court. As luck would have it Beth again had his table and yes, he was still difficult but she had made a decision to be kind and go the extra mile and that is what she did. This scenario was repeated again and then again. Beth made a point of waiting on the group each time and the fourth time she noticed quite a difference in his attitude. He talked to her kindly and even tried a smile. Kindness had reaped a plentiful harvest. When they were about to leave that day the woman, I thought might be his daughter, approached Beth and talked with her for a bit before following the others out. I had no idea what was being said but soon after Beth appeared in the waitress area with tears in her eyes. The woman had told her thank you for being kind to the old gentleman because he had cancer and was often in pain. He felt people didn’t care but he had decided Beth did care about others and he appreciated her kindness. It changed everything. As time went on, he became gracious and expressed his pleasure at dining at Cornerstone.
Ed, as we will now refer to him, came in many times with the others. It turns out they were not his family but were understanding friends who reached out to him and took time to show him compassion and love. He appreciated their kindness as he did Beth’s and a friendship of mutual respect blossomed. It was nearly a year before the visits became less frequent and then stopped. Both Beth and I felt the distress. We knew the reason was that he had become much worse and maybe even died, which is what had happened. It was months before the caregiver’s came in. They said it was so hard to come without Ed. We understood and we all cried together. They again thanked Beth for her kindness because it had been a blessing to them as well as Ed. It was a priceless gift to both Beth and I. You cannot put a dollar amount on knowing you did the right thing. I do believe it blesses you more than the receiver.
I’m relating this story because I think it is an important lesson for all of us. It is so easy to judge people as cranky, mean or disagreeable and others as rude and genuinely unkind. I always try to remember that often I know nothing about them. I don’t know if they just lost a spouse, a child, other family member, best friend, or if they have been diagnosed with a deadly illness, or are in a messy divorce, or maybe work for an impossible boss and can’t find any peace. Life’s circumstances can cause people such distress that they really don’t care how they appear to others nor how they make them feel. To my way of thinking there is only one thing that can turn that misery around and it is genuine kindness, a heart full of love and many smiles. Do they deserve it, probably not. Do they need it, yes, yes, yes. One of my favorite quotes is the old American Indian saying, “Never judge a man until you have walked a mile in his moccasins.” Whatever tribesman said it originally displayed great wisdom and compassion for others. I first heard it as a closing comment on the Johnny Cash Show years ago. It stuck with me and I try to live by that principle and believe the world would be a better place if we all practiced it.
I enjoyed sharing this story with you because it means so much to me personally. God bless you for reading it and may you always remember to be kind.
Inspirational Quote
Proverbs 15:1 A soft answer turneth away wrath; but grievous words stir up anger.
Quotes for This Blog
You cannot do a kindness too soon, for you never know how soon it will be too late. ~Ralph Waldo Emerson
“A kind gesture can reach a wound that only compassion can heal.”
― Steve Maraboli, Life, the Truth, and Being Free
Thursday, June 4, 2015
Tripped Up and Trapped
It is the little things that trip me up. It felt like it had taken me forever to come up with an idea of how I wanted to approach a book I hoped to write. Once I had envisioned at least part of the story I wrote like mad for days and accumulated nearly 12,000 words on 20 pages. The creative juices were flowing. I was very pleased with my progress but since it was a time travel story of today and almost 150 years ago I had to do more research. When starting the book I had relied heavily on knowledge I already knew concerning the area, now I needed more understanding of how Lowell related to our growing country. The story had veered off in a direction I had not anticipated and led me to a period about five years earlier and so close to Civil War days that I needed a better understanding of that time in Indiana. Yes, books do have a mind of their own and will sometimes surprise you with changes. So I entered into the research and though it was valuable and needed, it slowed my forward progress and destabilized my thinking. It gave me so much more to think about that I began to loose my way. What it did is trip me up.
Then I decided to meet with a writer’s group one evening and share part of my story. The good news is they liked it. The bad news, if you can call good constructive criticism bad news, is that they did have some valuable insight into the age of the main character and other useful tips that could help my writing. That’s okay though because it will be better. Unfortunately, not being an old pro at editing and not necessarily sure how to do the rewriting tripped me up again. This second trip left me slipping around and unable to get a footing. I should have just wadded in through the muck but instead I stopped writing the story. I had allowed myself to become trapped and couldn’t seem to move. At this moment I am still having trouble moving forward. However, I have been wiggling around in that trap for some time now. Ideas are slowly coming into focus and the trap is loosing its hold on my mind and my thinking. The creativity deep within is popping out in vignettes before my eyes; glimpses of how to begin rewriting and how to strengthen the story.
Now I am wondering how many times I will repeat this process before having something I think might be worthwhile to print. It doesn’t matter because there is a story to be told about the 163 year old town I live in and its surrounding area. I want to tell that story. I confess that I hope to handle the next trip differently. I know many rewrites will come and go and to feel trapped is not acceptable.
Have you ever felt tripped up or trapped? It can happen in many areas of our lives. I’ve often called them stumbling blocks. It’s as if someone throws rocks in your path just to stop your progress or at least slow you down. However, most stumbling blocks are in our minds and can often be excuses not to move forward. I think discipline comes in here somewhere. It is necessary to ignore silly traps and not allow fears of failure or lack of will to dominate our thinking. It’s time to take setbacks and negatives and slap them in a trap behind the door of forgetfulness. All of us can be tripped up but if we are trapped it is because we allow ourselves to be trapped. We have to renew our mind and not allow negatives to block our view. Always envision your future and keep dreaming your dream. However, it takes more than dreaming; it takes work; lots of work. You can’t get there unless you want to go there and that means working and staying focused on the goal. If your goal is to write, then you must write, write, and write. That is why I am blogging. If your goal is something else, and I’m sure most people’s desires are for something other than writing, then pursue it with every breath and never, never give up. That is the best advice I can offer anyone, including myself.
This blog helped me to relieve some personal frustrations and prepare myself for future challenges. I want to thank you for reading it and I hope it inspired you in some way. I’ll be back soon with another story from my Cornerstone Mansion days. In the meantime, I hope you will consider sharing my blogs and website address, www.bennygirl.net with others. Cheers!
Quote for this Blog
Worry compounds the futility of being trapped on a dead-end street.
Thinking opens new avenues.
Cullen Hightower
Inspirational Quote
Psalm 119:165
Great peace have those who love your law; nothing can make them stumble.
Then I decided to meet with a writer’s group one evening and share part of my story. The good news is they liked it. The bad news, if you can call good constructive criticism bad news, is that they did have some valuable insight into the age of the main character and other useful tips that could help my writing. That’s okay though because it will be better. Unfortunately, not being an old pro at editing and not necessarily sure how to do the rewriting tripped me up again. This second trip left me slipping around and unable to get a footing. I should have just wadded in through the muck but instead I stopped writing the story. I had allowed myself to become trapped and couldn’t seem to move. At this moment I am still having trouble moving forward. However, I have been wiggling around in that trap for some time now. Ideas are slowly coming into focus and the trap is loosing its hold on my mind and my thinking. The creativity deep within is popping out in vignettes before my eyes; glimpses of how to begin rewriting and how to strengthen the story.
Now I am wondering how many times I will repeat this process before having something I think might be worthwhile to print. It doesn’t matter because there is a story to be told about the 163 year old town I live in and its surrounding area. I want to tell that story. I confess that I hope to handle the next trip differently. I know many rewrites will come and go and to feel trapped is not acceptable.
Have you ever felt tripped up or trapped? It can happen in many areas of our lives. I’ve often called them stumbling blocks. It’s as if someone throws rocks in your path just to stop your progress or at least slow you down. However, most stumbling blocks are in our minds and can often be excuses not to move forward. I think discipline comes in here somewhere. It is necessary to ignore silly traps and not allow fears of failure or lack of will to dominate our thinking. It’s time to take setbacks and negatives and slap them in a trap behind the door of forgetfulness. All of us can be tripped up but if we are trapped it is because we allow ourselves to be trapped. We have to renew our mind and not allow negatives to block our view. Always envision your future and keep dreaming your dream. However, it takes more than dreaming; it takes work; lots of work. You can’t get there unless you want to go there and that means working and staying focused on the goal. If your goal is to write, then you must write, write, and write. That is why I am blogging. If your goal is something else, and I’m sure most people’s desires are for something other than writing, then pursue it with every breath and never, never give up. That is the best advice I can offer anyone, including myself.
This blog helped me to relieve some personal frustrations and prepare myself for future challenges. I want to thank you for reading it and I hope it inspired you in some way. I’ll be back soon with another story from my Cornerstone Mansion days. In the meantime, I hope you will consider sharing my blogs and website address, www.bennygirl.net with others. Cheers!
Quote for this Blog
Worry compounds the futility of being trapped on a dead-end street.
Thinking opens new avenues.
Cullen Hightower
Inspirational Quote
Psalm 119:165
Great peace have those who love your law; nothing can make them stumble.
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