MINE!

"You are on my land, sir."

"I answered him instantly and in a way wholly unexpected to myself, 'You are breathing my air, sir."

David Grayson/Ray Stanard Baker
Great Possessions
Doubleday, Doran, and Company, Inc  1936
p. 78


Sorry. This little neighbor, trespassing spat makes me smile. I see a younger me screaming, "Mom, Paul's in my room!"

"Shut up," he might well have said, "you're breathing my air."

David Grayson, exchanged the hectic life of the city for a hard but satisfying life in the country. He offered such wisdom, fun, and relaxing gentleness. Grayson and his books were a great find . . . until . . .  

I discovered that David Grayson wasn't real. I was reading novels.  

But a little research revealed that David/Ray wrote from his heart. Even his biographer would say that David Grayson and Ray Stanard Baker morphed into one.

I wrote a children's story a long time ago, about a shy boy named Jacob. Though I wasn't intending to do so, "I" was Jacob. Writing classes often tell us to write what we know. Hmm. I guess we do.

EverGrowing,
Lonnie

YOU'VE GOT 4 MINUTES!

"According to Leonard and Natalie Zunin, co-authors of the book Contact: The First Four Minutes, the way two people communicate during the first four minutes of contact is so crucial that it will determine the way the relationship will continue. They refer to it as breaking the four-minute barrier.

. . . it is the average time it takes to decide to part or continue their encounter."

Quoted by Selwyn Hughes
Bethany House Publishers  1983
p. 67

The first person that came to mind is my supervisor. She is a GREAT 4-minuter! I still remember my first day working with her. I'm sort of shy, but introductions are necessary so I stepped up to her open office door to do so. Besides her huge brown-eyed smile, I saw shelves and shelves of nun figures. Not boxes of this, files of that -- but nuns. "Come on in," she said -- an inviting, genuine, with-hint-of-humor "Come in." She's a great supervisor--no nonsense, yes; but fun. That's a great combo, don't you think?  (And Susan, this blog has nothing to do with my review coming up in a couple weeks.)

I asked my husband, Ray, if he remembered our first "four minutes" of meeting. All he remembers is hugging everyone in the room but me. And I? Same memory; I hugged everyone in the room but him. We didn't want our "liking" to be too obvious. (Where does everyone hug every stranger or non-stranger in the place? A prayer meeting.)

I would love to hear about one of your 4-minute encounters.

Sometimes Growing is Fun,
Lonnie

REASON TO LIVE

"The more I read the Qur'an, the more I realized that the book cannot be from God . . . I am free now. Free from fear. A religion should give mankind a reason to live. Islam gives reasons to die."

Why We Left Islam: Former Muslims Speak Out
Compiled and edited by Susan Crimp and Joel Richardson
WND Books  2008

BUYING TIME

"When we spend money on computers, we are literally buying time--the faster a machine runs, the more we have to pay."

Richard Leider & David A. Shapiro
Repacking Your Bags
Berrett-Koehler Publishers/San Francisco
p. 175

FOR MAT

"A high percentage of people who truly feel that they are living the good life, have work that uses their talents as opposed to a job they do mainly to earn money. Think about this: whose work more often inspires our deep admiration? That of the midlevel corporate executive who earns 6 figures for manipulating theoretical concepts, or that of the simple craftsperson who transforms raw material into useful beauty?

What is it about the craftperson's livelihood that so appeals to us? First, most genuinely seem to enjoy their work. They are immersed in it. Go to the house of someone who makes guitars for a living, and you'll probably see fretboards and tuning pegs all over the place."

Richard Leider & David Shapiro
Repacking Your Bags
Berrett-Koehler Publishers/San Francisco
p. 80

Though I don't see fretboards, strings, or cigar boxes all over his house, my son makes the most incredible musical instruments from cigar boxes, cookie tins, and soda cans completed by using some cast-off items to make them even more unique.

Suprisingly, I saved this quote way before his hobby started. Sort of fun.

Growing and Enjoying,
Lonnie

TATTLING ON MYSELF

"As a little girl, when my dad told me to hoe the garden, I was profoundly insulted that he would ask such a thing. I was mad too. So I cried as I hoed. Then I took a handful of dirt and rubbed it all over my face. I wanted to prove how hard I'd worked, how much I'd perspired, and how dirty I'd become by labor. Surely his pity would rescue me from further hoeing. It didn't."

Linda Anderson
The Too-Busy Book
Waterbrook Press  2004
p. 180


The truth doesn't always hurt; sometimes it makes me laugh.

 Mom and I used to share books. She didn't mind that I underlined in them--in fact, she rather liked my markings. However . . . it dawned on me, one day, that those underlines might tell more about me and my life than I wanted her to know. I suspect my note cards could do the same.

 So, when I pulled this anecdote from my collection, I smiled. That's telling, I thought. I could definitely see myself in that little girl. I could also see that I'd changed. To God be the glory.   

Hmmm . . . Take a look at your bookshelf. What does your collection tell about you?
EverGrowing With His Help,
Lonnie

HEART-FELT THANKS

"I've come to believe that only broken people truly worship. Unbroken people--happy folks who enjoy their blessings more than the Blesser--say thanks to God the way a shopper thanks a clerk."

Larry Crabb
Shattered Dreams
Waterbrook Press  2001
p. 57


Ouch! I'm not sure if I don't completely agree, or if I don't want to agree. I can tell you this: I long for a far closer relationship with God than I have with any store clerk. And to be honest, Crabb causes me to wonder how many of my thank-yous are courtesy (not a bad thing), yet how many are heart-felt and genuine.

If you were offer heart-felt thanks to someone in your household or workplace, today, who would it be?

Still Growing,
Lonnie