Focus on Joy!

                                                                                                            

 Blog #24

    Having joy is like taking a picture with a digital camera.  First, you find something that seems to be a source or image of joy. It is not hard to find joy, if you just look.  Words, ideas, scriptures, people, nature, and God can be wonderful sources of joy.

                                        
 

    Next, you digitally frame the image like you would with a camera.  Select the part that you want to remember: to “rejoice” in.  Then, focus with your mind’s eye (as you would a camera lens).  You intently observing, meditating upon and committing to memory the image of joy. This is the key point about joy: you have to focus on it! You focus your mind like you would your camera for a photograph of a broad spanning image of an item or small detailed close-up shot.

     Sometime it is better to look at the forest, sometimes the trees and sometimes the minutest details of the leaves.  So it is with sources of joy: sometimes looking with vision at the overview brings joy.  Sometime it is better to just look at the source of joy without any special lens.  Other times, it is better to zoom in and recognize the smallest element or trait to focus on the joy.  An example might be this: people in a crowd do not make me feel particularly joyful, nor would an individual standing in front of me that I do not know.  However, thinking about some of the tiny, special, unique qualities that our Creator infuses in that individual might be a source of great joy for me. 

     If you do not focus, you will lose your image.  You may lose the window of opportunity for that special moment of joy.  Do not allow negative thoughts, people or events to take the joy from you! Keep your focus!  Point and click your mind’s camera lens.

     Now that the image is recorded in your mind, you need to continue to delight in it. Thank God for your joy! You can keep it in the camera (short-term memory) or save it on the computer (long-term memory). You can even do some digital editing if your image is not clear. You can share it in a number of ways. You can use it to encourage, to express love and peace. You can discuss and debate it.  You can print or write about it.  You can save it for a gloomy day.

     Joy will find a way to be shared. It sometimes comes out loud and clear like a song.  Sometimes it serves to intensify a celebration or event.  Sometimes it serves to encourage or love.  Sometimes it peeks through a cloud like a ray of sunshine on a dark, rainy day.  Joy is sometimes the heart’s response to the rainbow that you turn around and see on that same dark, rainy day. Seize the Kodak moment! (By the way, if you have any ideas about this topic, I would love to hear from you.  I certainly have a lot to learn!)

                                                                   

                                                                       

Joy on the T-Ball Field

Blog #23

           The t-ball game was engaging for all of the five and six year old boys, except my son.  He went to his spot on right field and plopped down. It was a beautiful June day and he just wanted to look at the dandelions in the field. He was so very happy. He pulled the flowers slowly a part and blew some of the pieces in the air. He touched them, smelled them and examined them.  He was totally absorbed.

           From the sidelines, I was encouraging him to stand up and keep his eye on the ball. I do not think he knew he was on a team or that he was playing a game. I should have been more sympathetic, because, even as an adult, given the opportunity to play softball, I, too, would have rather examined flowers. As a child, I was the last one picked for a softball team and would usually pray that the ball would not come to me.

           Yet, on this day I thought my son should learn how to be a part of a team and do what every other kid was doing.  I was not upset at all. I was laughing and, actually, thought it was cute, but I wondered why he had absolutely no interest in the All-American game.

           So many parents believe this myth.  We want our children to have “social skills” when they are young and learn to be “team players” as soon as possible. Perhaps, we should teach character in the family first and, then, test it with others later. Sometimes we try to test the child's character before it is built. I think the idea of “socializing” kids outside of the family too quickly tends to weaken or dilute values.  We coerce our children to seek acceptance by peers, before it is prudent or necessary.  Then, when they become teens, we wish we could take all that socialization back.

           If I had it to do again, I would swoop my sweet child in my arms and walk around the field looking at the dandelions with him. I would not care if he ever played t-ball, softball, basketball or any other team sport. It is just not that important in the scheme of things. I am really happy that he was able to find joy that day, in spite of me.

Focused Attention

Blog #22

      All of the teachers in our graduate class were asked to pick the student that was the most difficult one we worked with.  Then, for a small research project, we were to give that student one minute of focused attention a day for two weeks.  It was not to be the “focused attention” of how the student was not fitting in to our agenda, but the focusing of our attention on the student and his or her life.  We could not ask questions about homework or behavior in school, but rather on his or her likes, dislikes and his or her world.

      It was easy to pick out the student for the case study and really pretty easy to find one minute of time to spend with the student.  The “focusing” was more difficult, because that is not what most teachers consistently do. We focus on our own classroom goals, student learning, student homework and student behavior.

      Every morning, I faithfully made a point to talk to Malcolm, my problem student, about his world, what he liked, what he disliked and what happened at home last night.  Like most students, he relished the attention and the opportunity to talk. Within a few days, it was apparent that change was occurring. Malcolm and I were developing a relationship and he, who formerly was rarely compliant and rarely did his homework, was working hard to please me. The mind-boggling event was that this was happening with every teacher in our graduate class.  A real change was happening, because of focused attention.

        At the end of the two week experiment, we all said the same thing.  The students who were once difficult and “trying” was no longer behaving that way in our classes.  It seemed like a miracle to many of us.

       Ross Campbell in his books, How to Really Love Your Child and How to Really Love Your Teenage, states “focused attention” is one of the ways to express love to your child or teen.  It is essential. It is, in essence, the eye to eye listening, the giving to the other person one’s undivided attention. Focused attention is the heart and soul of active listening.  Listening with focused attention is one of the greatest acts of love, in my opinion.  It is almost miraculous to see how people can change when they are respected, totally listened to and loved. 

       Focused attention works as a relationship-builder in every one of life’s venues.  It works with the elderly, friends, co-workers, bosses, husbands, wives, children, siblings and parents.  It even works in relationship-building with God.  Any positive, productive relationship requires it.

       This is my challenge for you!  Find a person with whom you are having a rocky relationship and try giving that person one minute (of course, more is better) of focused attention a day for two weeks. Don’t talk about your own issues!  Find out about his or her issues, interests, likes and dislikes.  Discover the individual’s world.  I believe you will discover that listening and love are closely related! I believe you will see the power of focused attention! I know I did.

September 2nd

  Blog #21

September 2, 2012

      It is humid and about 90 degrees.  I am taking a walk around the lake for the first time in a few weeks due to the starting of school and the death of a friend.  Though only the beginning of September, the path is full of dead, brown leaves. It seems sad. 

      I notice that that there is a man, his wife and two small girls in colorful sun dresses standing by the edge of the path offering free cold water bottles to the passers by.  I would love one but my hands are full, because I am carrying my five pound weights.  They are smiling and seem genuinely joyful.

     As I continue to walk, I notice that among the brown fallen leaves are many yellow, heart-shaped yellow leaves from linden trees.  They are beautiful in shape, but they seem to have prematurely fallen.  The leaves seem metaphorical for people who have lost “heart”, lost their spirit, lost their courage, lost their zest for life.(I don’t even know why my mind went in that direction.)

     Then, on my second lap around the lake, I see the sweet family again. All four of them are smiling hoping I will take their offering of a bottle of water. I am glad that I saw them: they are more cheerful than the leaves.  As I observe them, I am thinking that they have not lost heart.  I wonder why they are special.  Then, I understand.  On the ground, beside the man’s foot is a small, tattered Bible.

     

A Goal for Life

Blog #20

     I had been praying about my future and God’s direction for my life.  During this period of time, I was sitting across the table from my young son and asking the probing questions that he hated.

    “Whom do you admire?”  I asked.  

     He scowled.

    “Come on, now, pick anyone at school, at church or from history.  Whom would you pick?”

     He muttered under his breath, “You.”

     “Now, come on, let’s get serious. Name someone you really admire.”

     “You!”

      I was speechless.  I knew that was my future and God’s direction for my life.  That was God’s answer.  I needed to live up to that!

Wild Child

Blog #19

      There were a number of children playing outdoors with my new jump rope.  There were several mothers watching us play.  I was called in for dinner and, unfortunately, I had to take my rope in with me.  I asked the others to give it to me.  One boy named Jimmy refused to give me his end.  I grabbed it as any red-blooded six year-old would, but he refused to give it back.  Finally, in anger and impatience, I bit his hand.

      The mothers, who were standing around, were appalled and started talking in loud voices about how “filthy” it was to bite someone and what a bad girl I was.  I just started crying uncontrollably and could not stop.

      I ran inside and my dad put his arms around me and had me tell him what happened.

He told me quietly that that wasn’t a very nice thing to do, but, rather than punish me, he let me cry and hugged me for a long time.  I noticed he had tears in his eyes, too. In that moment, I saw great compassion and realized that God must be like my dad.

     

Mystery Solved

Blog #18

     Our house on Waverly was a one and a half story house with a large bedroom on the upper level.  It had two large storage closets in the eaves and another very dark, long closet near the steps. To a six year old like I was, it was fun in the day and scary at night. It was both a terror and a delight.

      Two windows were at opposite ends of the room and brought in rays of moonlight, which sometimes cast eerie shadows on all sorts of things.  To make it worse, we had a little, nocturnal kitten that would scare us by jumping on our legs when we put our feet on the floor.  My sister and I shared the room and were always asking to go downstairs at night to see our brother, who had a room downstairs.

      My strategy had always been simple: if a burglar came into the room at night, I would pretend I was asleep, so he would not hurt me.  This seemed more reasonable that screaming, to my calculating mind.                Then, one night it happened. We had been in bed a few hours when I saw a man with a coat and a hat moving quietly on the edge of the room.  I quickly squeezed my eyes closed and pretended to be asleep.  It looked a lot like my dad, but I could not be sure and I could think of no explanation of why he would be in my room “creeping” along the edges of the room late at night. It seemed so strange.  I could not sleep, because if it was my dad, what was he doing?  If it was not my dad, where did the evil man go and what did he want?  Was he hiding in a closet?

      When I got up in the morning, Dad had already left for work. The night before, he had worked in the evening, as he often did, and had not even kissed us “good night”.   Now at breakfast, I asked my mom if Dad had been in our room the night before.  She said that she did not think so.  I became really scared.  I knew I had seen someone and I wondered where he went and what he wanted.  There was no rational explanation, though I often tried to figure one out. The mystery stayed with me for more than 30 years. Then it was solved.

      You see my husband I had a little child that we loved and treasured just like my parents loved us.  We could not get enough of gazing at him awake or asleep.

One night, as we were tiptoeing into his room staying near the edge of the room as not to wake him, I stopped in my tracks.  Tears came to my eyes:  I felt so loved.  I knew that I once had a father who tiptoed on the edge of the room one night to catch a glimpse of his beloved daughters in their sleep.