Slow. Down.

Tomorrow is Thanksgiving, one of my favorite holidays, and not just for the endless array of casseroles, gravy, cranberry sauce, wine, dessert (and dessert wine).  It’s a time that we get to enjoy at a slower pace, surrounded by friends and family, wearing stretchy yoga pants, watching football and just enjoying each other’s company.  Right?  RIGHT?!

I have never been a Black Friday shopper.  I hate the mall, I hate the crowds, and I really don’t enjoy shopping (my nineteen year old self just rolled her eyes at me…) Some people love Black Friday; the thrill of the hunt, getting up at 3am, standing in line, fighting over Tickle Me Elmo dolls and arguing with the barista when she forgets the triple shot of espresso. 

And each year, stores open earlier, stay open longer, offer more insanely unreasonable sales to drive the hoards of crazies through their doors.  Thanksgiving is no longer a holiday to be celebrated; it’s become a minor preamble that we rush through just to get to the 100 MILE PER HOUR GIVE ME ALL THE STUFF CHRISTMAS SHOPPING EXPLOSION IN YOUR FACE.  NOW WITH MORE STUFF!!!

The commercialism of the holiday season is overwhelming.  There are too many screaming TV commercials with blinking lights, bells, dancing elves, annoying music and size 72 font prices for me to handle.  This time of year is not about getting a Hamilton Beach crockpot for 83% off retail price, just because you can.

People, you don’t need this stuff.  You have enough stuff.  You don’t even have room for the new stuff.  You can’t even name all of the stuff you already have.  Do you know what you really need to do?  Slow. The. Hell. Down.

We wait until after Thanksgiving to put up our Christmas tree.  We wait until after Thanksgiving to do any Christmas shopping.  We want to enjoy each moment, day, holiday, gathering, activity, as it comes.  If you’re constantly racing to the next event, can you truly enjoy and appreciate where you are right now?  Stop.  Sit with each other.  Talk.  Laugh.  Drink more wine.  Eat more pumpkin roll.  Enjoy your time.  And be thankful.

We have instilled a “Get One, Give One” mantra in our household.  If you get a new toy, you must give an old toy to Goodwill.  It’s important to us that our children understand that receiving gifts can be fun, but giving is so much better.  Because if you feel a thousand rays of sunshine happy when you get something, don’t you want someone else to experience that same feeling?

We are also making an effort to spend less because, again, stop it with the stuff.  I have a decent list of DIY Christmas gifts I have put together over the past few months (friends and family, be prepared…)  If spending money on a gift, we are considering things that are practical, enjoyable and most importantly, meaningful.  And if I actually go through with any of this DIY business, rest assured there will be a post about it, wink wink.

We will focus on our time together, more than ever.  Ignore Pinterest, Etsy, Facebook, Instagram and television.  You have enough sugar cookie recipes; you will never get around to making those votive holders (unless it’s a gift, then have at it…), and there’s no need in making yourself feel holiday guilt by comparing your tree, house, gifts, etc., to those of your 1,872 “friends” on Facebook.  Look at each other.  Spend time with each other.  Put down the smartphone, close the laptop, and connect to something other than your wi-fi for a change. 

This really is a time of thanks; if you stop for a moment and take inventory of your life, you will find you are immensely, tremendously, incredibly blessed.  And it’s not just the stuff you have; it’s the people, the relationships, the memories, the time together, the experiences, the laughter, the love. 

Ferris Bueller said it pretty well back in 1986:

“Life moves pretty fast.  If you don’t stop and look around once in a while, you could miss it.”

Happy Thanksgiving.

Taking it easy,

Kristin

Jesus and Politics

Today is local elections day, which is also known as, “No One Knows How to Park” day in my neck of the woods, because of where our office is located.  We share a parking lot with Club Square; for those unfamiliar, it’s a massive, four block parking lot where the city holds the farmer’s market and other events throughout the year.  It’s also the parking lot used by several local business, restaurants, bars, and a church.  This church just happens to be a local polling spot.

And so, with every election, our parking lot becomes filled with eager voters who have total disregard for pedestrians, the right of way, handicapped parking rules and what those white lines painted on the asphalt represent.  Yes, it is as much fun as it sounds.

 TOWANDAAA!

Seeing the parking lot today reminded me of our national election last year.  Remember the debacle that was “counting votes in Florida”?  Our polling locations staying open until 11pm, with numbers not being reported until well after midnight?  The lines and lines and lines of voters?  Ah, Florida election process…the reason we have always voted absentee, and will continue to do so.

I remember that last year’s national election just happened to fall on the same day as the regular delivery for the Budweiser truck at a bar adjacent to our building.  The poor delivery guy spent the better part of four hours wedged between angry voters and poor parkers.  Silver lining: at least it was a beer truck, and if there was ever a day deserving of a cold brew at 11am, well, national election day was it.

Politics are such a touchy subject, right?  It’s something that we tend to keep to ourselves in the Coke House.  Not because I wouldn’t want people to know who I voted for (Ron Paul 2008 2012 Ron Rand Paul 2016!) but because I’m consistently overwhelmed with the amount of negativity and manipulation involved in the campaign process.

My biggest political campaigning peeve?  Manipulating Jesus for your platform (and this goes for both sides of the spectrum).  Because, to be honest, I don’t think the Jesus I know would share some of the opinions that some of you feel he should have his name attached to.

I don’t believe that my Jesus would use platforms of hate, or scaring the bejeesus out of people, to get his message across.  I don’t think my Jesus would guilt you into feeling we owe people something that we can’t even afford to give.  And I most certainly can’t imagine my Jesus slinging mud, calling names and pointing out faults to get his point across.  He’d also probably want us to stop being so damn selfish.

The Jesus I know would want us to govern ourselves in our political lives in the same manner we do our spiritual lives, or at least the way he’s called us to live.  Decisions based on love and truth, on honesty and well being, on what would help us to create a nation and world that would make him proud.  He most definitely would want us to give of ourselves to help others; giving time, talents and money, in a sacrificial way.  You know, that whole "being a good steward" thing. 

Politicos: Stop using Jesus to try and get others to share your ideas; start putting him at the center of your life, and start sharing his ideas.  Base your decisions and ideas on his, and you may find that others are willing to follow suit for all the right reasons.

Let’s start by loving everyone.  Yes, everyone.  That includes people who voted for Michelle Bachmann, folks who believe in banning gun control, and those who supported the Affordable Care Act.  Because it's not our place to judge those decisions, remember? 

Jesus isn’t Red or Blue,

Kristin 

The Point.

I read a lot of mommy blogs.  Some are sarcastic and funny, some are inspirational, some are full of helpful advice.  But most are just real…full of the tales that photos posted to Facebook or Instagram will never tell.  Reading their experiences is a tremendous help for someone who is a new mom, because I now I know that I am not alone in my fears (allergies), worries (current ear infection/cold) or things I find funny (Miles peed on Evan – again).  It’s like being a part of the most awesome club ever in the history of time and space.

Today, I stumbled on a new (to me) blog.  I had linked there from something else; I can’t recall what, but it wasn’t to read what I ended up immersing myself in for the better part of an hour.  This mom wrote like so many of us, about life.  But her life was different.  They have a daughter who is four, but they have also experienced the loss of not one, not two, but three sons.  They lost their twin boys when they were just 18 weeks in utero.  They lost their third son just a few weeks after he was born, after finding a rare disease that prevented him from having a much needed heart transplant.  This is my unfairly brief summation of the cards they were dealt.

Reading her posts made me do The Ugly Cry.  For those who don’t know, The Ugly Cry is exactly what it sounds like.  That overwhelming, consuming, emotional cry that causes your face to twist and writhe, your breathing to become short and gasping, and your eyes to get so puffy and full of tears you couldn’t even read the address on your mailbox.  You.  Look.  Ugly.

And those of you who know me are also aware of my complete avoidance of all things that bring on The Ugly Cry.  I don’t do Lifetime or Hallmark (lame); I don’t read Nicholas Sparks (lamer) and I change the TV channel every time that ASPCA commercial with Sara McLaughlin singing in the background comes on (lamest, ever).  I can’t do it.  I’m not coldhearted; I just don’t want to cry.  The Ugly Cry is the reason we can’t watch things like Extreme Home Makeover (TWO HOURS OF UGLY CRY – NOTHANKYOU!)

So for me to sit there and read, at length, this family’s story, was difficult.  But I couldn’t stop.  Because, while difficult, I found her healing and faith inspirational.  I felt drawn to continue reading.  And I felt called to pray.  A lot. 

When I picked up Miles from daycare today, I hugged him tight. 

This morning, he had a congested cough, which led to me taking another trip to the pediatrician with him today.  And I’m not going to lie; I felt exhausted and exasperated, and not understanding why after ten days of antibiotics for an ear infection that had no cough, we woke up to a cough.  I felt sad for my baby, even though he smiled and played and ignored the cough completely, because I want him to be well and feel his best.  And I felt frustrated that we were dealt something else to handle, in less than a week.

Now?  Well, now I feel blessed that it’s just a cold.  That’s not to say it isn’t still something to struggle with; in life, you will find that while your situation may be better than others, it is still worse than some.  We all have things to deal with, and there is no diminishing what anyone is experiencing, because it cannot be compared to anyone else.  But, in that moment, I felt blessed.

There are times in life that call us to question, “why?”  Times where we struggle to find a reason, an explanation, a purpose…the point.

What’s the point of illness and struggle?  What’s the point of dealing with hardships?  What’s the point of being here, now, in this?

Here’s what I know about the whole point: there are actually two points.  Two reasons, two purposes, two explanations for what we’re here for:

1.      To love God.

2.      To love each other.

That’s it.  Of all the things we do on a daily basis, our entire purpose, being and existence (in my mind) comes down to those two very important points.

So when someone you know, or even that you don’t know, is going through some stuff…our calling is to be there for them.  To love them, comfort them, help them, pray for them.  We go through this stuff together.  God put us here, now, together, for a purpose. 

You will find love and peace in the arms of friends and family, through conversations with people who understand where you’re coming from, in prayer and meditation, and sometimes, just by reading words on a screen written by a stranger but connected to you in heart and spirit.  And while these things won’t always offer the explanation that human nature may cause you to search for, it will always lead you to the point: LOVE.

“The most important command is this…

Love the Lord your God with all your heart,

with all your mind, and with all your strength.

The second is this: love your neighbor as yourself.”

Mark 12:29-31

Be the hands and feet.

L-O-V-E,

Kristin 

My Mom, My Hero

Society will sometimes lead us to believe that upon reaching that magical AARP milestone age, we’re supposed to start winding down, relaxing, taking it easy.  And while that’s true of some people, others find that as a time in life to try new things, embark on exciting adventures, and maybe even see the world.

My mom is one of those “embark on exciting adventures” people.  It’s because of not only this new phase in her life, but her journey leading up to it, that my mom is my hero.  Not in a sappy, Hallmark move kind of way…well, sort of, but in a, “I’m tougher than nails and no one is going to stop me” kind of way.  Let me explain…

My mom was diagnosed with Retinitis Pigmentosa as a young girl.  For those who are unfamiliar (which could be many – this isn’t one of those diseases you hear about very often) this is a degenerative eye disease affecting the retina.  It affects only 1 in 4,000 Americans.  It is genetic, although as far as we know, no one else in our family has experienced it.

Retinitis Pigmentosa causes loss of night vision, loss of peripheral vision, loss of central vision and color blindness.  There is no treatment; there is no cure, and the disease can lead to eventual complete blindness.

In her 20s, she was declared legally blind.  In her early 30s, she voluntarily turned in her driver’s license as she felt unsure of herself driving from Pahokee to Belle Glade (about 10 miles). 

Despite this disease, my mom worked in accounting and bookkeeping her entire life.  In the 80s-2000s, while keeping the books for our family farm, she ran payroll for hundreds of employees on her computer using a DOS program for which she’d memorized the keystrokes to complete her task.  This was just one of many day-to-day tasks that some people in her position would have given up on…but she did not. 

My brother and I grew up, moved out, went to college (me) and joined the Army (him).  We got married, settled, and started our own adult lives.  My parents’ house was quiet; there were no more term papers to help with, no Saturday nights waiting up for one of the kids to get home, no big meals to prepare.  Yes, that “winding down” time had arrived.

My mom then became involved with Lighthouse for the Blind of the Palm Beaches.  She began to learn about “accessible” technology – programs, devices and apps for the visually impaired.  She found that through the State of Florida, there is a wealth of technology available.

She started with audio books.  She moved on to a screen reader, to help enlarge her cookbooks so she could continue with one of her hobbies and passions.  She installed a computer program that allowed her home computer to “talk” to her.  She started texting and she joined Facebook months before I, her sighted daughter, did.  She was unstoppable.

She no longer wanted my dad to drive her to Lighthouse; she started taking the bus, wanting to increase her independence despite her disability.  She used her white cane frequently.  She took dance lessons, and performed in a dance competition.  She learned Braille.  She began taking classes in technology.  She began volunteering to assist in the technology classes.  

And today, my mom is an Access Technology Instructor at Lighthouse.  Yes, my mom, the girl who was declared legally blind her 20s and stopped driving in her 30s, became an educator in her 50s.  Because, really, who has time to slow down?

This woman gets on the bus several times a week, and heads to the coast.  She teaches in the classroom, and she teaches in homes.  There is now a waiting list for these classes, thanks to the awareness she has helped bring to the technology available.

Despite her busy schedule of teaching, co-chairing events, and volunteering for various organizations, my mom found new things to add her ever growing “to-do” list.  There was still so much to learn, to “see”, to become involved in, to do.  She became increasingly interested in Southeastern Guide Dog School, and so, a couple years ago, she began the process of applying.

This is no small feat.  It involves months of interviews, education and mobility training, to make sure you’re ready to get around with just your dog.  An example of mobility training: crossing all four intersections (eight lanes each) of Congress Avenue and 45^th Street in West Palm Beach, alone, during morning rush hour.  This may sound easy, but for those who travel in rush hour traffic, have you noticed how many people who are turning right on a red light fail to slow down, yield, or even pay attention to pedestrians in the crosswalk?  When my mom told me this was one of her “big tests” for mobility training, I was nervous.  We prayed about it at home, at church, in small groups.  I now knew what all parents probably feel like when their sixteen year old drives to school alone for the first time.

Once you’ve passed mobility training, you begin meeting with trainers from Southeastern Guide Dog School who will assess you, to help pair you up with the perfect dog.  After that, the waiting game begins.  There is no attending school until a match has been found; this can take some time to happen.

I am beyond thrilled to say that tomorrow, just a two short months after completing her training, my mom will leave for Bradenton, where she will meet her dog for the very first time, and attend school.  She will be there until her graduation on October 31^st.  Yes, my mom is going “off to college” at the young age of 55.

In terms of faith, there are many people who question why certain individuals are given struggles like Retinitis Pigmentosa.  My personal belief has always been that, through these times of difficulty, not only will we learn the power of our faith and the strength and love of our God, but that we will be given the opportunity to be Jesus to someone else.  And I can say, with certainty, that regardless of the challenges presented, my mom has used this to its full positive ability, and has absolutely brought love, joy, appreciation and determination to many.  She has been the hands and feet in more ways than I could mention.

The image of a hero is usually a grand one…someone with superhuman strength, fortitude, power, and an unwavering spirit.  That’s my mom.  No mountain too high; to river too deep; no storm too turbulent.  Immovable, unstoppable, unbreakable.

I could fill the pages endlessly with words telling you about the adventures we’ve been on as a family; the fun things we did growing up, the foundation she gave my brother and me for life, the wisdom she imparted on us and the respect, appreciation and determination we have gained through watching her.  But I will close with this, something my mom told me as a young girl when faced with decisions that weren’t always easy:

“Life is not a dress rehearsal…you only go through this once.”

Once.  Just one time to do all you can, be who you were destined to be, follow the path laid in front of you – regardless of how rocky it may be.  And it’s never too late to start. 

If, in my life, I can be half the mom she was to me, I know I’m doing it right.

Thank you, mom, for being you.  Happy Birthday.

Endless love and thanks and gratitude,

Kristin

 Dancing Out of Darkness

 The whole fam-damily, kayaking River Bend in Loxahatchee.

Mom with Stevie Wonder at LAX.

If you’d like to read more about my mom, check out this article published in the Palm Beach Post earlier this year: How Miracle Devices are Helping the Blind.

Also, you can see photos from Dancing Out of Darkness, an event held by the Beyond Blind Institute, by clicking the link.

If you'd like to learn more about Retinitis Pigmentosa, check out RP International.

Doing Well vs. Doing Good

When I saw this quote posted on Facebook, I initially gave it just a cursory glance and moved on (there were recipes with chocolate and things about Fall fashion in my newsfeed and those things were important)  But something made me go back and read it again, and that same something made me start to actually consider the words.

If society has taught us anything, it’s that doing well is of the utmost importance.  Go to school, get a scholarship, go to college, get a degree, start a career, climb the ladder, buy a nice car to park in the garage at your nice house that has plenty of room to fill with lots of nice stuff.  He who dies with the most toys, right?  The idea of “toys” applies to lots of stuff; not just actual toys.  The most money, the most popularity, the biggest stock portfolio, the most trips around the globe, the best dinners at the finest restaurants. 

At the end of the day, this stuff is exactly that: stuff.  And you can’t take that stuff with you.

Listen to George, folks.

A former pastor gave a sermon once in things with “kingdom significance.”  The sermon was essentially about the stuff in our lives, and its importance (or lack thereof).  She asked us to go home, and place a Post-It note on everything in our house that had kingdom significance.  Think about each room, and the stuff in it, and whether or not at the end of the day that stuff is important.  If you’re like me, you wouldn’t have many (if any) Post-It notes attached to your stuff.

That isn’t to say we shouldn’t do well; we absolutely should, and God has given each and every one of you gifts, talents and abilities that will help us to do well in life…but they will also help us to do good.

I like to think that in our home, we do keep it pretty simple.  I have learned that stuff isn’t all that important (and trust me, this was a lesson that took a while…you can ask my husband about the $95 blue jeans – OY!)  As I simplified, life became easier.  There was less stuff in the way.  Less stuff, more room for good.  More room for God.

Opportunities to do good present themselves each and every day.  No, it won’t always be rescuing a baby from a burning building, or landing a plane on the Hudson River, but the moments are there if you’re paying attention.

My husband is constantly on the look out for ways to help others.  One of his favorite things to do is pay the toll for the cars behind him in line at the bridge.  It’s just $2, but it’s also an act of kindness that maybe the person behind him needed right at that very instant.  One of the very small ways I do good is letting folks cut me in line at Publix.  Sometimes I have to insist to get them to accept the offer, but I know deep down there’s no way they wanted to wait behind me with my 72lbs of produce, 20 cups of yogurt and crate of pet food, when they just have a simple basket of items. 

I like to imagine that one act of goodness will encourage a “pay it forward” that just keeps going.  Showing kindness, goodness and love to someone else has a lasting effect, and could be planting the seed for future great acts.  Faith in action.

About six years ago, Evan and I went out to lunch at a little pizza joint near my office.  We enjoyed our slices, and just sat there, talking to each other.  When it came time to get the check, our waitress informed us someone had already paid our bill.  I was in such shock that someone would be that generous (lunch wasn’t expensive, but the act itself was generous) and that was a reminder to me that again, there are lots of little ways to do good if I just open my eyes.

There’s and old song called, “They Will Know We Are Christians By Our Love.”  Just that simple phrase serves as my reminder of how important doing good really is.  I want someone to ask us why we did ____________, and I want to be able to respond with, “Because we love you, the same way Jesus does.”   

Like I said, it’s not a bad thing to do well in life.  But for me, the ultimate measure of how well I’m doing is actually how good I’m doing.

Planting seeds,

Kristin

We are one in the Spirit,

We are one in the Lord,

We will work with each other

We will work side by side

And they will know we are Christians by our love.