Breadcrumbs

“You can’t wait until life isn’t hard anymore before you start to be happy.” – Night Bird

Breadcrumbs

When she came out onto the stage she just stood there looking strangely confident and fearful at the same time.  I’m pretty sure no one in the audience knew anything about her.  Not one of us knew anything about her personally or professionally.  And, no one had any idea of her story of life.  Not just her life, but everyone’s life.

“This is an original song.  I’m Night Bird.”  She said in a gentle voice as she looked out against the lights glaring into her eyes.

For some reason, at that moment, I don’t know why, I thought of my friend Scott Banning as her words wafted into my ears.

“It was time for me to save myself.”  Scott once said to me as he described the hard choices he had recently made in his life.  “Some don’t do it in time.  Then one day comes and their time has passed.  They can’t turn their lives back toward safety and happiness.  They don’t know how to get there anymore.  They can’t see the path.”

Night Bird’s path was being sung to everyone in the audience.  But, I don’t know if they heard her giving out the breadcrumbs that would allow them to save their own lives, to find personal happiness.  I heard them though.  They spoke to me as small pieces of truth, crumbs to follow toward saving my life and their lives too; to find happiness again, or for the first time.

Crumb One.  Look outside.  Or, maybe a better way of saying this is, don’t look through your own eyes without seeing.  Become a witness to what others around you are doing, what they’re going through.  Then, do small things to help in the moment.

Give someone who has fallen a hand-up.  Greet a passerby with a smile and a cherry hello.  Catch someone else doing good.

Crumb Two.  Look inside.  Take time to feel grateful for everything you have.  Try it.  It will open you up to receive new opportunities.  Or, maybe it will just open your eyes to see options to sing a new personal story, one not visible through cloudy eyes?

Crumb Three.  Remember that everyone has a story.  You and I just haven’t read it yet.  Until we take the time to listen to another’s story, it will remain unwritten in our hearts.  The best way to create, or deepen a relationship is to listen.

Crumb Four.  Listening is the greatest sign of personal respect.  It’s also the gateway to kindness.  Who doesn’t want to be kind to someone else upon walking in their shoes for a while?  It’s a proven conduit to empathy and catalyst to serving others.

Final morsel. Go out and do small acts of goodness.  Yes, if you haven’t followed these breadcrumbs before, the path they lead to can be scary!  So, when you feel afraid ask, “What could this open up for me?”  Then, pick up the first crumb and try it before you stoop down to accept the next one.  

“You can’t wait until life isn’t hard anymore before you start to be happy.”  She said as her musical breadcrumbs came to a melodic crescendo with a roar from all listeners.  

When she came out onto the stage she just stood there looking strangely confident and fearful at the same time.  I’m pretty sure no one in the audience knew anything about her. Not one of us knew anything about her personally or professionally.  And, no one had any idea of her story of life.  Not just her life, but everyone’s life.

Is it time to you to save your own life?

Coming to Life

“I change with each expressive stroke and the painting comes into being; into life!” – Scott White

Coming to Life

“I began drawing when I was much younger.”  Scott White said as he walked into the Gallery on the Square.

His eyes darted from painting to painting; seemingly drinking in the brush strokes, the paint itself, the canvas and even the frames.  It all seemed to expand the twinkle in his eyes into a bright fire.  The art, his art and the art created by others, was clearly consuming his soul as if the fire-twinkle in his eyes was spreading into every other portion of his being.  But it wasn’t always that way.

“I quit drawing when my wife and I began having children.  It just seemed as if my children and my work were consuming my entire life.  Then, one day, my Pastor gave me an invitation.”

Scott’s Pastor knows him well.  He even recognized a burning ember hiding inside of him.

“I’m preparing a sermon series based on the Lord’s Prayer.”  Scott’s Pastor said to him one day.  “I’d like to have an artist create a painting for each portion.  Would you be willing to create some complimentary art to go along with it?”

Scott was a little perplexed by this invitation at first and replied, “You know my emphasis in painting is abstract, right?”

“Yes.”  His Pastor said with a matching, abstract grin.

“Well, I don’t quite know how this all fits, but I’ll give it a try.”  Scott said out of respect.

A few days later he picked up his brushes, after allowing the invitation fan a spark inside.  Then, when he made his first attempt at painting again, it was as if those brushes fanned the artistic ember within into a living flame and a new way of approaching life.

“I start out with an idea.”  Scott says of his approach.  “I put brush to canvas and the art seems to spark to life.  It isn’t so much that the painting paints itself.  It’s more like a partnership, the process of creating the painting reveals me!  The painting and I come to life together.  I change with each expressive stroke and the painting comes into being; to life!”

Scott’s ability to recognize this process is also reflective in the way he displays his work.  He arranges his work by phase. 

“The problem is that we’re running out of wall space in our house!”  He says with a chuckle.  “My work has changed over the years.  So, we’ve arranged my paintings in phases.  My work has morphed over the years and it just keeps growing.”

The role of his art has also grown in his life.  He’s still working at his “day job” now.  He paints as a hobby.  But, he’s looking forward to the day when his living experience completely shifts.

“I’m 65 now.”  He confides.  “I hope to flip my use of time to the creation of art first, with my job taking up less and less of my time.  It’s all because of one invitation.  That invitation from my Pastor.”

That sermon series based on the Lord’s Prayer was fully supported by complimentary paintings created by Scott.

“The combination of the Lord’s Prayer and my painting was the start of a new way of living for me; a more fulfilling approach to life.  Now I don’t let my preconceived notions rule the way I move into my future.  I relish the process of living my way forward by receiving each moment and living it as it happens; as it comes to life!”  Scott said, as the fire in his eyes brightened and he finished his story.

“I began drawing when I was much younger.”  Scott White said when he walked into the Gallery on the Square.

His eyes darted from painting to painting; seemingly drinking in the brush strokes, the paint itself, the canvas and even the frames.  It all seemed to expand the twinkle in his eyes into a bright fire.  The art, his art and the art created by others, was clearly consuming his soul as if the fire-twinkle in his eyes was spreading into every other portion of his being.  Because it has.  But, it’s more than that.

His art is an invitation for him.  An invitation for him to come to life!

A Face of Triumph

A woman crossing the finish line during event take down.

A Face of Triumph

Potential early morning triumph brought throngs of competitors and their supporters to the town square and the finish line for an early fall marathon. People were lining the road leading to the finish line holding signs and cheering as runners charged forward toward the end of their run and the carnival-like atmosphere there, around the main stage.

That platform held a live band which was blasting music to surround everyone as they milled around, laughed and sampled products from the event sponsors.  Smiles of individual achievement were on almost every face and many people were wearing race medals around their necks which certified they had completed the course.  It was like a vast party on the square.

And, like the race, the party was coming to an end.  The racers, their supporters and the vendors began taking their success and grins toward other destinations and activities.  It wasn’t like a rush to an exit.  It was more like a trickle at first, almost imperceptible in effect, sort of like the steady stream of slower runners still pounding the street toward completion, victory and conclusion.

Soon, the crowd was gone, the music stopped and trucks were loaded with barricades, tents and all pieces of the stage.  It looked like the end of the event.  But it was neither the end of event nor the end of triumph.  As it turns out, one more competitor would cross the finish line.

Few would see her trudging forward, but there were a few.  You see, it had been hours since the first competitors completed their run for glory.  So, it had to be more than the sight of her running that caught my attention.  There was also the crisp staccato of appreciative clapping.  But, neither of those stimulants cemented the significance that this runner delivered with her finish.

It was the look on her face.  Hers was the genuine face of triumph.

Potential early morning triumph brought throngs of competitors and their supporters to the town square and the finish line for an end to an early fall marathon. People were lining the road leading to the finish line, holding signs and cheering as runners charged forward toward the end of their successful run.  It was a carnival-like atmosphere there around the main stage.

Now that stage was gone.  The metals had been awarded and the crowd had vanished.

“Too bad!” I thought.  “They missed what very few saw; an improbable victory.”

It was not a victory over others.  It was a victory of one, the joyful face of a person who had faced true struggle and defeated it.  It was the look of satisfaction.  She, the last runner to finish, displayed the face of triumph for all of us, because many of us have been in her shoes.  I know I have.

I treasured the sight of her victory because it reminded me of the value of such personal triumph.  It resonates with the heart.  Her amazing finish displayed the gratification of completing something no one else thought she could.  It personified the rewards of defeating one’s own self-doubt.

The last runner to finish the race wore the face of triumph for herself and for all of us.

Unexpected

“It was such a stressful time my hair began to fall out!” Meme Skuas

Unexpected

It was a huge tent, filled with people.  That’s because it was a celebration of sorts; just not the expected celebration.  It wasn’t that the scheduled celebration wasn’t happening. It was.  It’s just that there was something else to celebrate.  Something that was to be discovered in a private conversation, between two people, in a middle of a large crowd.

Sometimes, very personal, very private things occur in the middle of a crowd.  You know what I’m talking about.  It’s happened to you; a time when you gazed across a vast, filled with people space and caught the eye of another.  In such a moment, your eyes and the eyes of another person became locked, spellbound.  They also spoke.

When eyes speak it is inaudible.  Yet, they say so much.  In many cases they express more than can be heard.  They speak through feeling.  And, when such communication is combined with speech, the result can be remarkable.  That’s what happened in the middle of one celebration; a remarkable conversation that ushered in the unexpected.

“It was such a stressful time my hair began to fall out!” Meme Skuas said in a heartfelt way, at the start of an unexpected conversation.

She was speaking in two ways.  First, in voice.  And, her eyes were speaking in a more moving way, a communication so powerful it seemed as if the large crowd in this place were transported away.  Far away.

“At the time I didn’t think I could live through it!”  She continued.  “I’m telling you this because I think you’ve been through something just like it.”

Meme was specific in her message to you and me.  She wanted to share it.  She wanted to celebrate it!

“Now that the pain is over, I’ve learned something miraculous.  I discovered that the experience, the lessons, the pain all worked for my good!”  She said with a paused, expectant yearning radiating through her eyes.

Unexpected!  Who would have guessed it?  The person delivering this significant message was as unexpected as the message itself.  The messenger is a dynamic, successful, happy and vibrant person.  One would never suspect she’d lived through such a trying time.  Just seeing and being with her in this moment was cause enough to celebrate, because she was a truly the vision of her message.  Everything had, and was continuing, to work for her good.

It was good to be in a huge tent, filled with people for a celebration.  That’s because it was a celebration of success; just not only the expected success.  It wasn’t that the scheduled celebration wasn’t happening. It was.  It’s just that there was something else to celebrate.  Something that was to be discovered in a private conversation, between two people, in a middle of a large crowd.

Sometimes, very personal, very private things occur in the middle of a crowd.  You know what I’m talking about.  It’s happened to you; a time when you gazed across a vast, filled with people space and caught the eye of another.  This was such a moment, two sets of eyes became locked and spellbound.  They spoke volumes about what an important truth.

Everything.  Everything in your life.  The noble, the mundane, the bad and the excruciating are all teachings.  They’re lessons.  Most often, such lessons are not expected.  Not what you and I want to experience.  Not what we’re looking for.  And, their resulting good is also unexpected.

They’re unexpected in another way too; because, as it turns out, they’re all working for our benefit.  It’s all for our good.

Everything is working for our good.