Wildflower Writes

I gave blood the other day. For most people, that's no big deal. I have overcome great obstacles to be able to give blood. When I was 12, my ear started bleeding after I got them pierced. I saw it in the mirror and nearly passed out. When I was 19, I gave blood for the first time in college. I got so dizzy I had to lay on the floor for 45 minutes instead of sipping orange juice. When I was 34, I gave blood at my daughter's school. I passed out. The nurse called my parents to take my daughter and me home. I've given blood a couple times since, always with fear and trepidation that I might have an embarrassing episode. I have to focus on my breathing, be sure not to look at the needle or the tube or the bag, and think about anything else except where I am and what I'm doing (I have a very active imagination). So giving blood is like a rite of passage for me, overcoming a long-held fear of... what? Maybe pain, or death. But when I got the text that my blood typ...

When I returned from an appointment yesterday, I was amazed to see that the sun had melted most of the snow and ice off my windows, even though the windchill was in the teens. The sun is an amazing thing- providing light, heat, day, seasons... and I have a special relationship with that glowing orb in the sky. About 8 years ago I was diagnosed with seasonal depression, or winter blues. It's a real thing. When that sun disappears for days or weeks behind heavy clouds, and the sky is a dull gray all the time, I get down. I have a physiological need for light to maintain my sanity. When the sun finally reappears after a long hiatus, I notice right away. I greet my old friend, and I'm filled with joy. Everything (literally and figuratively) seems brighter, more real somehow. A sense of hope is restored; winter is not forever. Light can represent goodness, truth, righteousness, hope. 1 John 1:5&7 says that "God is light...If we walk in the light, as He is in the l...

I sent out a silent plea to my bathroom scale to read under a certain number (a lady never tells).  The scale laughed at me.  "Yeah, right," she said.  (Of course it's a she.  I'm in my bathroom!)  "Aren't you the same person who ate half a box of Thin Mints last night?"  "So?"  I asked, indignant that she would even bring up such a thing.  What I consume in the privacy of my own bedroom is my own business.  I got on the scale any way, and lo and behold, it was five pounds over my requested number. What really stinks is that I had set a goal at the beginning of the year to be at my ideal weight by my birthday next month.  Alas, I still have 10 pounds to go.  I think that's where I started in the first place. I'm not sure why I'm surprised.  I was supposed to start running again at the first of the month.  I don't like running outside in the cold and I haven't saved up for a treadmill yet.  So, I exercised... o...

If I could save up a little more money, I could work from home... Someday I'm going to buy that little VW bug convertible... One day I'm going to take that Caribbean cruise... Someday.  My bills will be paid; my house will be clean; my flab will be gone; my life will be organized.  Yet, each day another 24 hours comes and goes, and for every step forward toward one goal, another goal lies tantalizingly out of my grasp.  And I wonder.  Does ANYONE really have it all together?  Or are we all juggling time maintaining our house with building a family or juggling energy keeping a job with building a career? The apostle Paul said, "I have learned the secret of being content in any and every situation, whether well fed or hungry, whether living in plenty or in want" (Phillipians 4:12 NIV).  There is a line, a tightrope even, that every healthy person must walk.  Everyone should set goals, aim for something greater, commit to personal growth....

It was a leadership retreat.  It had been an amazing day- gourmet food, a ropes course, getting to know the others in the group.  I had stayed up late chatting by the fire with some of the guys, and made my way back to the women's cabins alone, about a half mile back through the woods in the pitch dark. I had my flashlight, and I used it to stay out of the small puddles that lined the path.  I also made sure I didn't run into any trees on the way, and that I made it to the right cabin. This was the image I had as I was reading Charles Stanley's new book, " How to Reach your Full Potential for God ", where he draws a mental picture of using your flashlight or lantern to get through the woods in the middle of the night.  He makes these points: You need the light to see in the distance, to be able to know your goal and the direction you are headed. You need the light to see either side of the path, to make sure you are not wandering into t...