The Ordinary Ride that Turned Extraordinary

The other morning, we were in merging in traffic on the freeway in Charlotte, which as usual, is under construction, and as usual, there was someone who failed to let me in. Obviously, I made it, but not without some teeth grinding and growling. 

After all, it was 8:30 and I was on my first cup of java with cream, no sugar. Sarah was in tow. We were on the way to school, and for some reason, I was not feeling my normal chipper self. Maybe it was the traffic. Maybe it was the fact that we were late again, our gold standard. It doesn't usually bother me though. It does, however, bother most others I've learned the hard way.

I am not a morning person- meaning I do not have an easy time hopping out of bed. Once up however, I'm "annoyingly cheery," an ex once told me. This morning was not really different from most mornings, only I was deflated. And I was letting things bother me that shouldn't. Ie. traffic, running out of peanut butter- things like that. To me, those are silly things that have no business influencing one's mood. 

Here I sat, gripping the wheel as if strangling wet clothes, letting all the wrinkles dance across my forehead while furrowing my brow, and not singing along with my favorite song on the radio. It was a self-inflicted misery. And I was the only one to blame. 

What happened next changed everything. 

I looked over to my right, and what I saw brought me to tears of joy. There was a teenage girl leaning her head against the window in the car she was riding in. Removed from the conversation in the front seat, she had soft red hair, with skin like ivory. She looked me dead in the eyes, and smiled a gentle smile- at me! Not at someone else. Not in response to what may have been playing through her ear buds, but she smiled directly at me. 

That's all I needed, and it just about melted my heart. That smile felt different- like a Godsend, like an angel had just smiled at me. In that singular moment, which probably lasted about 3 seconds, I felt loved. I felt worthy, noticed, appreciated, and relieved. I wasn't alone. Life wasn't that bad. And all it took was one small act of kindness.  (And it was from a teenager of all people!!!! They do have feelings! Gasp!)

She didn't pause to think whether or not she should smile at me. She didn't look the other way, pretending that she hadn't looked dead at me. There was no ignoring. Just a plain smile. And she will never know how her smile, her random act of kindness, improved me in that fleeting moment. 

Sure, we get that feeling from babies, and small children who are being dragged around by their rushing parents. Sometimes we might get an unprompted smile from someone across the room, someone in passing on the street, but not like that. 

That was intentional. 

Living intentionally is the only way to be grounded, to become your greatest you. I believe that we influence our moods, and we choose happiness, and it starts as small as a smile. 

 Because sometimes, that's all it takes. 

Empathy makes it challenging to smile when someone you know is sad, but that's what we need sometimes. It takes a special person to be able to do that. Those people are rare, and when you find one like that, you better cherish that relationship. 

Through broken hearts and tears, I've learned that there are some people who we are better off without, and others that I didn't value enough. It's funny how something as simple as a smile can drive thoughts like these. I'm so glad I had that moment. 

If I didn't ever feel sadness, I wouldn't value joy. 

My close friend, Charity tells me all the time, "You have to embrace the darkness. Without it you'd never know the light." She's right. 

I have never experienced a smile with impact like that before, and I thought I would share it. Who did you smile at today? I'd love to hear some responses to this. Have you ever experienced a moment like that? Tell us about it. 

Christmas Eve and it dawned on me

So, 2012 is marching quickly upon us. I'm wondering what this even numbered year will present for me, for the country, for my family. I'm hoping that my visions of death in a car will be squashed, that my small group will have more direction, that I can be a leader, and lead by example.
I hope that I can be more understanding of my friends situations, who are in what I call ridiculous relationships with boys who ultimately suck, and by suck, I mean suck the life out of my friends. I hope that I can say the right things at the right times, and avoid touchy subjects at inopportune times.
With these hopes, I also ask that my friends can be more choosy, that they can each realize that they are worth more than they currently project.
I ask for a better relationship with my mother, and a bigger set of balls than I've ever had, not to proudly display, but to modestly back up my good intentions.
For 2012, I wish that Sarah gets into a good school, and can be a leader, and when the time is right, she will follow the right people and make the right choices.
It's not the amount of pictures that we took in 2011 that sums up what effectively marks the close of a year, nor the parties we attended in the month of December in celebration of Christmas or Hanukkah, or whatever it is that you give praise to. It's not the amount of friends you may have or not have on Facebook that represent us.
At the end of the day, at the end of the year, it's not what we thought was important that actually was. It wasn't the amount of money that we lost in a risky stock market trade that your friend promised was the goldmine, but really turned out to be the black hole. And it isn't that stunning diamond ring your honey surprised you with, when he got down on the very same knee that he broke playing ice hockey in 7th grade, when the new orthopeadist said he might have a slight limp, but thankfully, he didn't. It's the love that fuels us to do nice things for eachother. It's not the gifts. It's not the wrappings. It's the motive and the love.
As, I'm sitting here surrounded by beautiful packages, decorations that shine, lights that twinkle and music that is somehow not irritating still even though it has permeated every public arena and radio wave for the last month straight, relentlessly, I'm sitting here thinking that these small things are a culmination of what is to come.
These are the little details that God wants us to find solace in. These simple ways we find peace are just one more way that God shows His love for us.
I've always known, as most people probably have, those who believe in a greater being, be it Christian or otherwise, I've always known that God presents himself in the little things. That's what keeps us coming back. I can't speak for everyone, clearly, but the bells and whistles, the lights on Broadway, the cool breezes on a scorching summer day when you're impatiently waiting in line at the farmer's market, and the gramma in front of you wants to debate the price of a bag of tomatoes, the random twenty you found in your front jeans pocket when you needed to pay for parking and you had no cash in your thin little wallet- it's those things that keep us reeling.
I hear people say all the time, "I hate all the hustle and bustle of Christmas. It's not about spending a grip of cash you don't even have to spend." I may be guilty of saying it myself. I think it could be argued that we have all felt that way at least once or twice during the Christmas season.
But I realized tonight, that even though we may spend money we don't have, and we run around, fighting over parking spaces, burning up perfectly good food in our kitchens because that neighbor decided that she wanted to make a cake, and was missing the not 1, not 2, not even 3 eggs that a good cake recipe calls for, but 4 eggs, and realized that she was too lazy to go to the store, but not lazy enough to take on the rum cake, and she wouldn't leave your front porch because yelping about the other neighbor had somehow become the number one priority- in front of the cake, it's for a reason. We do these things, these out-of-our-wayisms, these seemingly never endingisms so that we can make others happy. That is the richness of life. That's what God intended for us.
He wants us to celebrate how much He loves us, by showing others how much we can love each other. And what a better time of the year than Jesus's birthday?
Praise God.
I wish that we could all take a moment to realize that all this stress and busyness is not all in vain. We do these things to make others happy. And that's the fat of life. That's what He wants.
Next time you are doing something for someone else that you really don't want to do, begrudgingly, try changing your attitude. Take the role of servant. Do it with JOY in your heart. The true blessing is that you are now BOTH the giver and the receiver. You are now receiving the other person's burden. And you are giving out a break to someone else. Don't we all need a break?
Praise be to God. Merry Christmas everyone.

 

Sometimes I have these great ideas of things to write about, and I even go as far as writing them down on a scrap piece of paper, and guess what happens. Yes, I lose that little piece of ripped off paper. In fact, I can't even remember where I was when I tore it off of that unsuspecting, lonely piece of unwanted paper. Back to square one.
Today at church there I was, sitting with close friends, my friend, and her awesome son, who's 12, backed into a corner, which I don't mind because I can be found crying on occasion when I'm there.
That, I can't explain. Some people laugh when they're uncomfortable. Some people talk too much when they don't know what to say, which is the exact opposite of what should happen in my opinion, but I am not the authority on all things right. Thank God, you're thinking.
I cry at church, and when I am happy. I cry at weddings probably more than I have cried at funerals. Commercials with hungry children and sad, abused puppies and kittens make me cry, some Hallmark commercials too. I wish I could appropriately describe what it is that pulls at my heart strings, so sometimes I could avoid it. Don't we all want to escape from feeling at times?
I would just like to go one day without having some form of extreme feeling. I can hear one of my bosses now, "Brooke, you're a woman. Your mood will change like you change your underwear, that is, if you change them once a day in the trailor park."
We joke a lot about my being from North Carolina. Somehow, he forgets that he is too. You know that addage that is played out, but still funny, "you can take the boy out of the country but you can't take the country out of the boy." If you really want to be redneck, you can take the of's out of that statement.
At times I would just like to be a plain white sheet of paper- no lines, no random red dots, no spaces to be skipped on occasion. I just want to be a plain white sheet draped over a beautiful, but never before revealed to the public, awaiting at auction, Picasso, that some rich, and wanton person of the male species would buy at his own discretion probably without first consulting his wife.
I want to be someone else sometimes, not all the time, but occasionally I would just like to not care. I would like to be devoid of thinking about other people and hearing everyone's problems. I would like to leave work at work, and would like to be greedy. I would like to disassociate, to avoid others, to be cold, to not care. It would be so much easier.
I am thankful that I am not that way, but it would be so easy.
Life shouldn't be a breeze should it? We are put here to learn, to morph, to grow, and inspire others to do that. At least that's my take of life. At least that's why I am here. I can't speak for everyone, but I know that God wants me to show leadership in generosity. How do I know, you wonder?
Because he told me many times. He let me know what I need to do.
He lets us all know. We don't all listen.
The price we pay for not listening is much higher than the price we pay for obeying, for some, the price tag is just too high. But I'm here to say that it's not.
And listen here, I'm no saint by any means. I make a million mistakes. I can't take credit for much, I'll admit. But I try to obey when it comes to my finances. And I have never gone hungry. I may have wondered where the money will come from on occasion, but it always ends up working out.
I'm not telling you this because I want credit, but I am saying this because I know there are people who read my blog who are generous as well.
I know there are people here who could be more giving, and are scared to trust Him with your finances.  I'm telling you as an encouragement to do it for yourself. I want you to see how easy it is to trust God when he says he's going to come through. And He always comes through.
We don't though.
This was not at all what I had intended on writing about today. It's funny how things work out sometimes, isn't it?

secrets? I have none.

I always wonder what kind of impact I will make on the world. Doesn't everyone?
Do we not all wonder what we'll turn out as, some of us secretively, some of us blatantly obviously, and for some of us, it's hard to believe that we even think of others even while we're sitting on the toilet and have nothing else to think about.
It's never my intention to make my name known, but it is on the contrary, to share ideas and I'll admit, maybe to show to people that I have known at some point in my life, that I have changed. I am not who I once was.
I hope you aren't either, unless you were a saint.
Life is journey, and you can't truly grow unless you learn from your mistakes and use them as stepping stones. I accidentally typed stoners.
That was funny and quirky.
That is the richness of life- the quirky moments, the small things, the times where you think no one notices you, and they do.
I hate to sound preachy, arbitrary even, but I mean it when I say that life is rich- even when rain is predicted. It's full when we see empty. It's beauty in the mire. We fail to see the simple abundance of goodness when we are surrounded with it because we find ourselves consumed with earthly desires.
We think we all need to be rich, to be heard, to be known, to be understood by all. Truthfully, and by God, we all won't achieve that, and realistically, we won't understand why. But as soon as we can understand that the small things are what make up life, we will begin to reap the benefits of a deeper understanding. You don't have to be rich and famous to impact the world.
The impact of goodness doesn't have a number attached to it. It's not quantitative. Thank God it's not.
My Mom asked me the other day as I was walking up the stairs at her house, and at such a perfectly appropriate time, if I didn't feel that writing a blog for everyone to see (those few who take active interest), was exploitative (not her word), even invasive of my privacy. I'm sure it wasn't my privacy that she was most concerned about.
So, with respect for her, I'll not speak of her unless something really juicy happens from now on.
I don't want to put a strain on our relationship.
But here's the deal: I enjoy the ability to be frank in writing. It's such a release. I honestly think everyone in the world should find their voice through writing.
Most people can't speak out loud. They refrain from confronting situations that propose honesty in its purest form.
We all are guilty of it.
We won't talk about what happens in the virtual world.
We use computers and computer programs to hide and to make avatars of who we would really like to be.
In fact, I believe, and I spoke with a long time friend about this just yesterday, that we don't even choose communication anymore.
We choose to text instead of talk. We choose to email instead of calling. We choose to evite instead of taking the time to buy stamps.
We are constantly taking short cuts. Why?
How have we gotten so far removed from others that we take short cuts in our personal lives? We don't have relationships anymore. We barely even see each other face to face. We hide in our little "me bubbles", and I hate that.
My mom rarely talks to anyone outside of her bubble. And that's OK for her. It's what some people do. It's normal.
I don't want to be normal.
I don't want to be in the bubble. I would give anything to have my mom's open mindedness, her understanding, her wisdom. One day I will. What price will I have to pay to get it, I wonder? That's unimportant.
What it's like to have those qualities...that's what I'm after.
I am not at that point yet in my life where I can be comfortable with who I am without making a statement. It's who I am right now. It's probably what I will be for a while. I was born to be that person. The loud one. The constant advocate. The debater.
But when it all comes down to the nitty gritty, I'm about everyone else. It's not about me. It's about you.
It's about what you stand for, and how I can help you. You should see the trails of thoughts inside my brain, riding the waves like it's the hundred year storm and you are Bodhi in Australia and Keanu Reeves is waiting to lock you wrists together at the shore.
Mom, if I write about you, please don't be upset with me. That's all I can really say because I write about what I am about. And if you are a part of my life, you can most likely assume that you will be in some story that I will write. That goes for everyone.
Sarah, my four year old, has told me on a few occasions that I embarrass her. I told her to get used to it. That's mean isn't it?
No, I told her this: Sarah, the things that are important for you are important to me. And the things that are important to me, are important to my family, and the things that are important to my friends are important to their family, and that's how the world goes around. Whether you want to admit it or not, people care. Get used to it. I care. I love you, or I wouldn't tell anyone the funny little things you say.
Her response: Mom, let's just keep some things a secret.
What can I say to that but, "I love you, and you're awesome. Don't let anyone EVER tell you different. I know, and I'm your mom."
That is exactly what I said.
That was what I meant.

I am so psyched about Christmas. Yaaaaaay! It's the world's chance to be what God intended us to be- in unison.

Are you excited for the right reasons? Are you going to stop not believing?