Finding time

“I wish I could find the time to do…” Feel free to fill in the blank here.

Guess what? Here’s a little secret I have learned: no one finds time. Mainly because time doesn’t hide. It sits wide open for everyone to see. Twenty-four hours a day. That is what is on the table. You can do with it as you please. If you wait to find time though, it will slip through your fingers.

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My prayer for you…

Every night during my prayer I mention your name. It’s true, I do. I always have. Not to be confused with the habit of mindless repetition, on the contrary, I pray for you so that I will remain mindful. I don’t want to forget about you or your troubles. So, when I say I pray for you, please know I think of you and your situation and I pray for your success. I used to think your success meant your health and well-being. But now I know better. My current prayer for you sounds a bit different.

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How do you like your eggs?

Do you remember the 1999 movie Runaway Bride? It was the second collaboration of Julia Roberts, Richard Gere, and director Garry Marshall. Here is a short synopsis for those who might have slept since 1999 and have forgotten this romantic comedy. Woman dates a few different men, becomes engaged at different times to each of the men, and ends up leaving all of the men at the alter. Woman meets a writer who intends to use her story for his own self-interest. One thing he notices about her is she likes her eggs cooked the same way her fiancée at the time does. Spoiler alert! Woman and writer fall in love and decided to marry in a ridiculously short amount of time. Surprise! She leaves him at the alter, also. But in the end, they do get together and even marry. My younger self from 20+ years ago did not like that surprise. My wiser self (20+ years older) now recognizes that as the best part of the movie. She leaves him at the alter to discover who she is and how she likes her eggs cooked independent of any other influence. In other words, she comes to know herself before getting into a relationship. This has become something I strongly advocate.

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When the song comes back to me again

I’m not sure how it happened. But somehow, somewhere I became reacquainted with an old Garth Brooks’ song. Sometimes when I connect with a song I play it. A lot. I wouldn’t say in an obsessive way. Just a lot, a lot. That’s what happened with this song. It spoke to me and so I had to listen over and over. I think everyone should know about this song so I’m going to share my thoughts here. Because that’s how I roll. It’s a good song though so I’m sure you won’t mind reading my take on “When You Come Back to Me Again” (Yates & Brooks, 2000).

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All we leave is a memory

The subject of immortality has tantalized imaginations for, well, ever. Perhaps the thought of living forever is appealing because we really don’t know what will happen when we die. There is a lot of speculation and debate about that but this post isn’t about all that fuss. No, this post is another gentle reminder. This post is about the only sure way we can live after death. And that one way is as a memory for other people.

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The Lost Art of the Letter

I am by far much more of a fiction reader. It seems my attention span grows and I read much quicker. However, I also like to learn so I have come up with a fiction-nonfiction schedule. Part of my nonfiction reads include biographies. I like to learn about people who are only names to me. Their interests, their weaknesses, their lives. One of the tools most biographers use to peek into the souls of yesterday is through letters. Letters written by and to the person. It seems we can learn a lot – or as much as we can anyway – from their correspondence. This all got me thinking, how will the future generation learn anything from us?

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