Is life meant to be hard?

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Oftentimes we are blessed by a surprise. Something unexpectedly falls into our life that adds to our well being. Our mind, our heart, our hopes become enriched by the surprise.
 
We can look throughout our lives when such a surprise might come along at a point when our life seems to be foundering and we just can’t seem to put one foot in front of the other.
 
Now, I don’t mean our health is necessarily challenged. Sometimes it’s just our spirit that is discouraged by a heaping helping of what other’s throw upon our lives individually, at school, or at work. Occasionally, it is the impact of what is going on in the world that we receive from our daily dose of news.
 
We go to the mailbox, and there is a stack of bills. While they are generally expected, sometimes their constant call upon our means bring us down. Then the unexpected comes along, your vehicle breaks down, your body decides to offer a new ache, pain or illness that persists requiring a visit to a doctor, then tests are needed, and you either don’t have insurance or not paid enough of your deductible.
 
Perhaps the kids need something for school that wasn’t budgeted, or perhaps they want to go to summer camp and there’s not enough money but you will try to find a way to not disappoint.
 
Most all of these things are common to each of us. Are they hard? Yes, they can be depending on our situation and nature. But we all share these experiences in common.
Do we get to uniquely complain about any of these? Not really. There is nothing special about us in these things.
 
Sometimes we do have a unique experience that makes life especially hard. Those folks should earn a chance at least for our ear if they need it.
 
An uplifting surprise, such as a gift of attention, a word of encouragement, something handmade given, a God wink from above, can make our world more bearable even if it is just a moment in time.
 
Is life hard? It can be. But I think back upon my ancestors who I knew as a child and the lives they endured, the hardships and work we wouldn’t even be able to perform. But they managed to seem to be some of the happiest and most giving people I ever know. Now you might not see it by looking, because we Appalachians are so stoic. Our happiness is for those who we are close to.
 
Even if you are stoic too, find some happiness to share with those close to you. Every now and again reach beyond that fold and uplift a stranger. Make life less hard.

A community of discipline

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If you are of earlier generations, then you may have lived in a time when your parents actually disciplined you.

I know in my case, there were a few “Go to your room,” when I misbehaved. Of course, our rooms didn’t have TV’s, computers or other electronics. I did have a radio in there and some books and of course toys to play with, so it wasn’t so bad.

But usually, if my mother at some point in the day had said that to me. I also knew come 4:30 p.m. when my father came home, he would call me out and depending on the severity of my offense, I could here the sound of his belt being pulled from his pants at a high rate of speed. Then my posterior would receive reinforcement of the reason I shouldn’t have done whatever I did.

Of course, there were other types of punishments, extra chores, loss of allowance, grounding, removal of participation in some special event I was looking forward to doing.

As my behavior moved throughout the neighborhood, there was a team of mothers who kept a close eye on my friends and I as we played. We had no boundaries, yards where we were welcome, woods, streets, and creeks were all among our sphere of activity.

Every single house we passed had at least one adult that knew one of us, if not all by name. If any of us got out of line in public, the telephone lines would begin humming as calls began going house to house until it reached the appropriate parent. Then we would hear in the distance our name ring out. And usually not just our first name but our first, middle and last name was being yelled out by someone’s mother or father. Then we would hear our co-patriots chiding us because they knew we were about to get it as we got on our bike and peddled or ran off towards our house.

And even beyond a mother’s and father’s discipline, they shared that authority with anyone within whose care we were placed. Aunts, uncles and grandparents were automatic, we got whatever their children got if we were out of line.

This was also true when we went to spend time at a friend’s home. Before that occurred, my folks meet the parents and soon had made a decision whether I would be allowed to spend time under their roof. If I was, I also knew that my folks had given them a blanket notice, if he gets out of line, punish him as you would your own. I can say, I always felt like all the parents’ home I stayed in, I was treated as one of their children.

Of course, as I grew I understood that there was an expectation of behavior in public, or when staying with someone else. If I had acted out to the point my parents would be told, I would not only see retribution with my guest guardians, but I would definitely see worse once I returned home.

This certainly made me and any of my fellow youth more likely not to be a problem.

If we embarrassed our folks in public, say at a store, church or some other public place by “pitching a fit” or not doing what we were told. It is safe to say that retribution was swift, we would be picked up by an arm, an ear or whatever was closest to grab and escorted to a less public place or outside where our posterior would meet with an attitude adjustment. We would then be returned to whence we came, perhaps with a few tears on our cheeks but in a much better and more respectful mood.

I can safely say that as I grew, that discipline shaped me into the respectful, law abiding adult that I am. It also placed within me a deep appreciation for what my parents and various temporary parents did to teach me how to carry myself and participate in the greater society.

While I remember the lessons taught, you know, I don’t remember any pain, or frustrations experienced during those moments of intense fellowship.

I really shouldn’t have eaten that

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Do you realize that each of us spend a large portion of our lives either eating, preparing something to eat, going to get something to eat, or thinking about eating.

When you consider the amount of time we dedicate to this practice, you would think we would each be an aficionado on the consumption of food.

We should know what to eat that makes us feel good and what to eat that doesn’t.

Sometimes however, we can easily make a few mistakes along the way.

You might decide you going to take in a meal at an all-you-can-eat restaurant.

Next thing you know, you are doing just that.

Eating all the meat, vegetables, deserts that your plate after plate will hold.

You are so full when you are finished you have to loosen your belt in hopes your pants won’t pop a button.

On another occasion you are preparing a meal at home, you fill you plate, reach into the fridge and add something that might have been there a little too long for comfort.

You smell it, its OK, so you add it to the dish, only to find the rest of the evening and night, your body is making you regret they decision that your brain justified earlier.

You have a craving for ice cream. So, off you go to the ice cream shop for a sundae or banana split only to be reminded shortly after consumption that you occasionally suffer from lactose intolerance.

I have always enjoyed my share of deserts – cakes, pies, and brownies, divinity fudge. Peanut butter squares were a holiday treat I could never miss. But wait, I have an allergy to peanuts. But they are so good.

Do you enjoy a good steak? I sure do, but I like mine well done. I like to eat it with a little steak sauce.

You know I can’t think of any good reason that I shouldn’t eat it. Wait a minute, I promised myself I would eat vegetables…. Well I guess I can put ketchup on it. That’s a tomato. Oh no, I just remembered tomatoes are a fruit.

Anyway, I will eat more vegetables tomorrow – potatoes, corn and maybe some craw fish. Oh well, I am allergic to those critters too.
I guess I will find something to eat someday. I’ll just keep thinkin’ on it until I find something that might satisfy me. I should be a true connoisseur by then.

Do you let grudges rule your life?

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As I walk down the street, I see two men walking ahead of me. At a bit of a distance they see each other, one quickly turns, looks both ways, crosses the street and continues his trek down the street.

One might conclude he was going to do something on the other side of the street, but if the observer knows the back story of the two men, he might realize this is the latest rebirth within the exiting man of a long-standing grudge.

A grudge is defined by the Cambridge dictionary as “a strong feeling of anger and dislike for a person you feel has treated you badly.”

Well, who has not had someone treat them badly in their life whether it was in personal relationships, business dealings or simply in social situations. It is for sure if you hang on to each small slight, combined with the bigger ones, pretty soon your bag of grudges that you are carrying around could be the size of a steamer trunk fully packed for a sail around the world.

What do you do with all those things in the trunk?

Is dragging it along behind you weighting down your future, your successes and your sanity?

I certainly carried grudges along with me in life. From childhood bullies to girls who did me wrong, co-workers or bosses who slighted me, or folks who attacked me publicly. It is not easy to let go of those hurts but with time and effort you can.

I will never forget when I was able to let go of those who made may youth a torment for me – fearful of of their verbal or physical abuse. For more than a decade those angers were packed away in my heavily steamer trunk, allowing me to from time to time take them out and fume over what I lost during those years.

One day, I realized carrying the weight was only hurting me, threw those grudges overboard, and I was freed from that emotional bondage. I forgave them all and today I could stand side by side with any of them without anger or a thought of retaliation. Other than possibly a passing thought of how surreal the renewed experience is.

Now in this case, all those people were long gone from my life, unlikely to return – that is until the advent of social media. But how do you handle the people who are still within your life? Those people you might meet walking down the street.

If you are magnanimous in your personality and your ability to forgive – as we all should be.

You would stay your course, speak politely as you pass, no matter how the other party reacts, and keep living your life. You are slowly taking take back your control and chipping away at that internal grudge making it smaller with each deed until one day, you will unpack it from your trunk.

Unless the person for which you carry a grudge has an actual perceived power over you, such as a boss or a relative who is there, this approach may sustain you.

Those who are in your life constantly, well that is a bit more of a challenge that you must handle based upon the impact this grudge is having on your life. If it consumes you every waking thought, you need to seek some professional help to learn how to get past it. Ultimately forgiveness must occur. But even if you forgive, the other party’s behavior might continue to add weight to what you are carrying.

Then I suggest, you must decide whether that impact on your well being should decide if you continue working around that person, or if family, do you choose to no longer spend time with them.

I come from a culture that holds lifelong grudges – even generational grudges passed from father to son. These sometimes take the form of what we refer to as feuds. In past generations, these did lead to physical fights, shootings, injuries and deaths. Another alternative practice is shunning – where the other party is dead to you – you did not acknowledge, recognize, respond, or see them even if they were next to you in a room.

I have chosen in my life not to feud. There are only few actions worth carrying that baggage and I pray I or my family do not suffer those. I have tried the shunning route, but that is exhausting, especially if the other person crosses your path a lot. It also give them power because you have to be conscious of them when they are around even when you are trying to ignore the person.

The best path is to destroy the grudge, forgive and move on if that is at all possible.

Prayer and Bible study as helped me accomplish my letting go. Should you have any grudges that you carry, I pray you find a path that frees you from their weight.

A turning of the soil

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I checked the oil in the engines, filled the gas, sprayed a little quick start in the carburetor. A couple of pulls of the handle and the engine was clicking.

Rolling it around to the garden, I began my efforts to break up the ground and prepare for seeding.

I had been waiting for window after rain was falling every three days. The ground had already broken from drying out after five days since rain.

It was hard at first but soon the tiller was making good work of the effort. After a few hours of turning, and some raking, the ground is ready.

Now I have to develop a new plan for what I will plant this season.

Last year was my first year back at gardening after a very long break. I always enjoyed the effort but I am using these new adventures to try new vegetables I have never grown.

I have found reconnecting with the soil, digging in the dirt, feeling the sun upon me, touches my soul. As I work, I talk, sometimes internally, sometimes out loud. I am speaking to the seeds I plant, the green that grows from them, and to God.

No matter what may be troubling my soul, the daily happenings, the news, the experience brings a peace that comes from that conversation.

Only reading the verses of the Bible have brought me a similar rest in my Spirit.

The touch of the earth upon my hands allows me to feel closer to God’s creation.

Seeing what springs forth this year I know will bring a smile to my face and allow me to reconnect to the feelings shared with each past generation in my family whose survival was dependent upon what survived to harvest.

If you do not already garden, I encourage you to make the effort this year. Even if it’s just a few plants in pots on a patio, please consider connecting to your inner farmer and reconnect with God’s gifts.

If you get more ambitious and turn your yard into an agricultural center, you might want to pull out your grandmother’s canning recipes too and brush up on those.

May the Lord bless your efforts in abundance!