work ethic

Hope in Three Values

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One of the best fiction series, in my opinion, is Jan Karon’s Mitford books. Karon does such a good job of crafting this fictional town, it feels like an actual place where I want to live.

The main character, Father Tim Kavanagh, presents his wisdom in spades. As the local Episcopal priest, he oversees most of the spiritual events in Mitford. But he is also a practical fellow who grows roses, struggles with diabetes, and walks daily with his faithful dog, Barnabas.

Recently, I re-read the latest book in the series, To Be Where You Are. In this story, Karon offers a special life-values formula via Father Tim.

What are the three things everyone needs in their life?

Someone to Love. We all need an object of our affection, whether human or a pet. And I would suggest we also need to know and truly believe we are loved by someone.

During COVID lockdown, one of my friends had to put down her beloved dog. But she knew living alone without something or someone to love would be emotionally painful and isolating.

So she bought a puppy. Between potty training, adapting her new buddy to the environment of her house, and the usual vet visits — she had no time to feel isolated or worry about COVID. She had someone to love. And the regular licks of her face proved she was loved in return.

Something to Do. We all need to feel as if we have a purpose, that our lives matter for something. Activity of some kind keeps our brains nimble, our muscles hydrated. If we can see we are making a difference, leaving an impact for someone else, that sense of significance soothes our souls.

During the pandemic, I was so grateful I could continue to work. Although some people tired of Zoom meetings, I was grateful for this technology that allowed me to coach my clients and help them publish their books.

In fact, during COVID, multiple books were published — especially digitally. With more time at home, more people were reading. All the authors in the world cheered.

Multiple words were produced, words that will impact readers forever because of writers such as my clients who continued to write.

And they increased my hope as I had work to do, helping them to make an impact with their wordsmithing.

Something to Look Forward to. Whether it is holding a newly published book in your hand, planning for a wedding, or cleaning the clutter to downsize and move to a smaller place — we need some reason to anticipate the future.

As we circle a date on the calendar and make a list of tasks to complete, we focus on something positive happening soon. From that future event rises a feeling of hope, a surge of joy for something good on the horizon.

In 2020, I often thanked God in advance for the day I would no longer have to wear a mask. Looking forward to that time helped me deal with the reflection of myself in the mirror, masked and praying I would not get COVID.

Although masks helped us stay a bit healthier, they also represented fear. So the anticipation of no longer needing to wear one felt like freedom in advance. Answered prayer with God’s detailed timing.

Many of us in the last act of life are anticipating that day when our bodies no longer constrain us. When our spirits get to lift out of flesh and become totally free. When we get to relax in the arms of God.

That anticipation becomes a life-giving hope that carries us through health scares, changes in family dynamics, even the higher prices at the grocery store. And it helps to remind us that the problems we daily face are really nothing compared to the amazing life ahead.

Someone to love. Something to do. Something to look forward to.

Wise words and a reason to reflect on these blessings in our lives. Then thank God for the hope they offer.

©2022 RJ Thesman – All Rights Reserved.

One of the books I wrote after COVID lockdown is titled: Day by Day: Hope for Senior Wisdom. Check it out on Amazon and Kindle.  

Hope Searches for Rest

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Someone recently asked me, “What do you do to find rest?”

My oxymoron reply, “I have to intentionally work to find rest.” Except for the times when life throws me in bed with an illness or unresolved grief, I have to plan for rest.tea cup - flower - journal

My strong work ethic was forged on the family farm where every day’s chores began at sunrise. The frenetic pace of milking cows, putting up hay and bringing in the harvest continued throughout each season.

Although I still have calluses and sun-ripened freckles to prove how many hours we toiled, I wouldn’t give anything for those years.

The joy of being outside and the lessons I learned about hard work were  priceless.

Still, rest is something I know is important. So I am determined to learn how to proactively invite rest into my life.

On Sundays, I take a break from the digital, refusing to click online to check emails or tweet a response. Sundays are usually the days I lie down for a nap – another leftover routine from my childhood. An unconscious stopping of work to intentionally rest.

But what are ways to embrace rest while awake? Doesn’t the proactive invite for rest also include an invitation for peace?

A break in the routine underscores rest which is part of the reason for Julia Cameron’s suggestion to take an artist date once / week. A date without the goal of productivity but simply the enjoyment of art, to browse through a bookstore or re-discover the magical smell of crayons.

Even a break from the carefully designed life. Perhaps a day for a chocolate treat, a ceasing of counting calories for the enjoyment of flavors and textures. No worries about carbs or fat grams.

One of the least used yet most beneficial ways to rest is to merely sit and do nothing. To enjoy the fading light of a colorful sunset, listen to a classical aria, meditate on a Psalm or pet a cat, revel in the warmth of a contented purr.

The tagline of Choosing Rest by Sally Breedlove reads “Cultivating a Sunday heart in a Monday world.”

Breedlove writes, “Finding rest requires quiet undeviating focus where we give ourselves time for holy spaces of contemplation.”

As I search for more opportunities to find rest, I want to reboot my creative and spiritual self.

Rest births a chance for finding ourselves without the definition of productive effectiveness. Within moments of rest, we discover our true selves as God created us to be – trusting, content and whole.

©2018 RJ Thesman – All Rights Reserved

Find out more about the topic of Hope in Hope Shines – now available also in Large Print.

Hope Lives in Small Towns

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After a recent trip to my hometown, I was struck again with the functional differences between the KC Metro and Enid, Oklahoma.enid

In my hometown, most businesses close for Easter to allow families time together. The majority of signs and billboards carry the graphic of either a cross or an empty tomb while the local newspaper prints the Easter story in the King James Version.

Folks in my hometown understand the symbolism of the season and aren’t shy about declaring their belief in God.

On Good Friday, our family moseys over to the Western Sizzlin’ for a huge salad buffet, well-done steaks and the ice cream machine.

Mosey is a word we don’t use in KC because nobody moseys in the city. Yet in small towns, folks mosey across the intersections, mosey into the stores and lollygag at anyone who doesn’t know how to mosey.

In my hometown, you will likely run into relatives, a colleague or someone from your church. And even if you make a new acquaintance at the ice cream machine, it will be a friendly conversation.

“Weather treatin’ ya’ okay?”

“Yep. You?”

“Can’t complain.”

“You from here or just visitin’?”

Someone who knows my family will inevitably challenge me with the question, “When you movin’ back here to help take care of your mama?”

Folks in small towns grow loyal families to populate the town, support the schools and run the businesses. If you leave, you’d better have a good reason and if you’re a really decent person, you’ll move back and make your family happy.

That’s why hope grows in small towns. Because everyone hopes you will move back, help with mama and increase the population by at least one.

When I visit my hometown and mosey into the stores, I pick up the Okie accent that never really leaves my tongue. I drive more slowly and don’t take chances at the yellow lights because I’m not in a hurry.

At Braums – where everybody goes for an ice cream fix in the afternoon – I wave at strangers and talk about the wheat crop.

Although the world is rapidly changing, folks in small towns still trust each other and somehow mosey their way into each other’s hearts.

Obviously, I miss small towns and the heritage they provide. I miss the folks I know and those I don’t know, because their lives are simpler, purer and steeped in the values of country traditions.

These precious folks live somewhat sheltered lives, safe within their bungalows and the farm lanes they drive in their pickup trucks. They treasure family and work ethics while hanging on to the faith of their ancestors.

Although I know my work is here in the KC Metro, a weekend visit is all it takes to transport me back to the security of my foundation and the people who keep hope alive.

©2015 RJ Thesman – Author of the Reverend G books http://amzn.to/1rXlCyh

Finding How to Love Mom

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During a recent visit to Mom’s assisted living facility, I thought again about the five love languages. greeting card

In his book, Gary Chapman explains the love languages as: touch, gifts, quality time, acts of service and affirming words. When we know the love languages of those around us, we can better relate to them.

As I grew up, I never considered the love languages of my parents. But now that Mom is walking through the shadows of Alzheimer’s, I am looking for various ways to communicate with her.

    Finding her love language is one of my attempts to somehow make a connection with this woman I call Mom.

Gifts are definitely not Mom’s love language. When someone gives her something, she loses it and then accuses someone of stealing it. And even when she wins a Snickers bar at Bingo, she immediately gives it away. Her life no longer exists in possessions, so gifts are not Mom’s love language.

Touch has never been an important part of our family life. Although Mom will receive my hugs, she never initiates them. Touch does not work as a love language for my mother.

Affirming words might be slightly closer for Mom’s love language, but not for long. If I say anything nice to her, “Your hair looks really nice today, Mom.” Or “That color of lavender looks so good against your white hair,” she says thank you and then changes the subject. Or she gives me one of those looks that means, “You’re kidding, right?”

Acts of service. My family has always stressed a strong work ethic. We work hard, and we work for others as much as for ourselves. But performing an act of service for my mom would be empty and wasted energy. She would turn it around and want to do something in return for me.

Besides, what act of service could I do for her? Her laundry is taken care of at the facility. Someone else cooks her meals and serves them to her on beautiful plates. She walks to the salon to have her hair fixed. Her needs are all met.

The only love language that remains is quality time. This is the one way I can show her love, spending time with her whenever I can. Quality time means sitting in her apartment and answering the same questions over and over without becoming grumpy about it.

It means looking through the cards she has received and talking about the senders of those cards – old friends and new friends, relatives and church members.

It means walking around the pond with her and stopping frequently so that she can catch her breath. It means carving some time into a weekend and sitting with Mom even if neither of us has anything to say.

Loving Mom now means just spending time with her. And I’m glad to do it – while I can – before our time together finally ends.

©2014 RJ Thesman – “The Unraveling of Reverend G” – http://amzn.to/11QATC1