A Perfect Day

May 22, 2012 Today was a perfect day – a rare gift, a respite from my role as caregiver. I drove over the mountains to meet my dear friend Charlise for a belated celebration of my birthday.

Charlise and I became friends sixteen years ago when I began teaching at Westminster Christian Academy outside of Watkinsville, GA. I nervously walked into the first teachers’ meeting of preplanning, not knowing anyone there. I was one of the first to arrive and found a seat in the large circle of chairs and waited for the meeting to begin. The room began to fill as other teachers arrived, greeting their friends and colleagues and enjoying catching up after their summer vacations. The chairs on either side of me remained empty. Then Charlise came waltzing into the room and made a beeline straight for me with this happy smile on her face and a twinkle in her big brown eyes. She stuck her hand out and said, “Hi, I’m Charlise James and I teach high school English. You must be the new history teacher.” She took her seat beside me and began filling me in on everything I needed to know. It was instant friendship.

That friendship deepened over the next year as she and I shared a planning period together each day. As we graded papers, we shared our life histories, our hopes, and our trials and tribulations. We became counselors to one another as well as prayer partners. She told me about her deepest desire to marry the man she had been dating off and on for several years, and a few years later, I shared her joy as the two of them exchanged vows in the candlelit sanctuary of an old abandoned church. I shared my worries about my teenaged son, and she prayed with me for him. Now she shares my joy when I show her pictures of my precious granddaughter and tell her what a good daddy my son has become. I found my soul mate in Charlise, someone who truly understood me and loved me anyway. My bosom buddy, as Anne of Green Gables liked to say.

The years passed quickly. We often met and talked about our concerns over students we cared about deeply and prayed for them. We trusted each other completely and knew that anything said between us would be held in the strictest confidence. I often encouraged Charlise in her role as teacher, as she sometimes doubted herself and her ability – and desire – to continue in her job. Eventually, both of us cut back to part-time, which allowed us time for weekly lunch meetings where we solved the problems of the world and got into deep, philosophical and spiritual conversations that would last for hours. Giving up those meetings was one of the hardest things about moving two-and-a-half hours away to come here to be near Mama. Eventually, Charlise also moved to be near her mama, making her only an hour away. Now we strive for monthly lunch dates, and yesterday was one of those.

We met in a quaint little coffee shop in the artsy community of Sautee, GA, not far from the Bavarian town of Helen. The coffee was rich and smooth, and the double-chocolate fudge cookies were outstanding! We lingered for hours at our table by the window as we caught up, now sharing our struggles to care for aging parents. Charlise gave me my birthday gift, a copy of her favorite devotional book and a paper-bead necklace handmade by women in Uganda who are trying to make a living. Those are the kinds of things she loves to buy. When we left the coffee shop, we went across the road to Shapiro’s, where we enjoyed looking at the beautiful and unique handmade crafts for sale. I bought a lovely pair of earrings. As always, Charlise struck up a conversation with the proprietor, and we stayed for quite a while. Charlise is the one who taught me how to talk to complete strangers and and showed me that doing so is worthwhile. You never know what you will learn.

Next we went into a shop that sells Native American art, something I never really cared for, except for the silver and turquoise jewelry. (Yes, I love shiny baubles.) I did buy two little crocheted finger puppets for Hayden, and that completed my purchases for the day. It did not complete our looking, however. We crossed the road to the Old Sautee Store that has been there my whole life. I hadn’t been inside for many years, and neither had Charlise, so it was quite nostalgic. The front of the store is a museum, a restored version of the original general store built in 1872. Behind this room is the contemporary version. We spent a long time there, looking at the home décor, trying on clothes, and sampling their famous Farmers’ cheese on gingersnaps. One saleslady tried her best to sell me a beautiful green quartz ring, but I had already “shot my wad” for the day. Next, we went next door to the deli and ordered the daily special, a delicious Panini with ham and Swiss and raspberry sauce with spicy mustard. We sat out on the porch and ate while we watched an approaching storm come over the mountains straight for Nacoochee Valley.

I have always loved storms – ever since I was a very small child when Mama would make me a pallet on the floor in front of the screen door so I could lie there and watch the wind and rain. To me, the sky is never more beautiful than when dark clouds contrast with sunlit sky as the storm either comes or goes. This is especially true in the mountains. You can often see the rain falling on the tops of the mountains well before it reaches you, and that was the case yesterday.

We finished our sandwiches and walked to a lovely garden shop with a living roof covered with grasses and ferns. I love plants even more than I love jewelry! From there, we went to the Lavender Cottage, a quaint shop with a front-porch swing. Everything in the shop is made with lavender. I learned you can use lavender in food! We sampled tea cookies made with the herb and tested good-smelling sprays and lotions, and, of course, struck up a conversation with the lady behind the counter. The rain finally reached us, so we stayed for quite a while until it passed. We sat out on the porch swing where the storekeeper kindly took pictures for us. We also took pictures of a robin sitting on her nest in the corner of the porch roof.

Once the rain ended, we returned to the car and drove to the art gallery and pottery museum. I wandered around while Charlise discussed some old pottery her family has with the curator. When we were ready to leave, the bottom fell out again, so we were forced to wait out the “frog-strangler.” The sun started to shine while the rain still fell hard. We looked for a rainbow and didn’t find one, but we did see the sunlight dance of the rivulets of water falling from the eaves. It looked like tinsel. Charlise had an epiphany – “Rivulets – I get it now, little rivers!” When the rain slowed, we headed for the car. I returned Charlise to her car, and began the trek back over the mountains to home, as happy and content as I had been in many days. Awww, friendship – truly one of God’s greatest gifts, and a life-saver for caregivers!

A Writer's Life

I’m back to the old pattern again…I wake up early, around 5 am and just lie in bed thinking. These days, it’s always Mama and Daddy I think about - their needs, how best to meet them, and their bleak future and how it will affect all of us. It’s really not a good idea to start the day with such depressing thoughts, but they come, unbidden, and overpower me every time. Eventually, a little voice inside my head starts saying, “Get up and write about it.” Writing is therapy; I know this well. And the best writing isn’t done by the clock; it just happens when the thoughts overtake me. If I don’t get up and start writing right then, one of two things will happen. Either I’ll finally exhaust my poor brain and fall back asleep when it’s time to get up, or, more likely, I’ll finally get sick and tired of lying their depressed and get out of bed. Then, by the time I’ve taken out the dog and started the coffee, the spell will be broken. The elusive words of wisdom will have escaped.
But this morning, Doug punched me in the nose. Oh, he didn’t mean to. In his usual squirming around, his arm flopped over on my side of the bed, and his hand found my face. “Ow!” I said out loud. “Sorry,” he responded. The reverie was broken. But before the thoughts were too far gone, I got up, came in the living room, and grabbed my laptop. So here I sit in my recliner, pounding away at the keyboard, and hoping that Little Bit can hold it a while longer over there in his little crate. I know my time is limited. Soon, Doug will come in the living room. “You haven’t started the coffee yet?” he will ask accusingly. Guilty as charged, I will set aside the laptop and begin the morning routine. After that, the tyranny of the urgent will take over for the rest of the day.
So why is it so hard to get up and start writing? Partly, I think, I am just so darn comfortable lying there in the soft warmth of my bed. But it’s so much deeper than that. It’s that blank page. As every writer knows, the hardest part of writing is getting started. I’ve had all those thoughts zinging around in my head, not all of them related. Somehow, I’ve got to capture one of them and put it down on that blank page. And then I’ve got to capture the rest of them in just the right order and create a coherent paragraph followed by another and another until I’ve created something that a person who doesn’t live inside my brain can understand. It’s like herding cats.
But still, the hard part is knowing where to begin. Once I find a starting point, the words just flow, and my fingers fly across the keyboard in an attempt to keep up. There will be revision, of course, which will result in better organization. Isn’t that all writing really is? Just organizing your thoughts on paper. Ok, on screen. No one uses paper anymore.
This waking-up-early pattern started several years ago while I was still teaching school. I’m sure it had to do with hormonal changes. At that time, I thought about school-related issues, or Sean and his upcoming wedding. Then it was the idea of possibly retiring early and moving to the mountains. Once that was decided, it was planning for our new home and retirement. I’m never short of things to contemplate; my brain doesn’t have an off switch. Sometimes I look at Doug and ask him what he’s thinking. “Nothing,” he usually replies. The response used to make me mad. I wondered what he was hiding. Then I read this book entitled Men are Waffles; Women are Spaghetti. It was the most enlightening self-help book I ever read. Turns out, men really do have empty brains at times – or else they’re thinking about sex and don’t want to admit it. According to the author’s theory, a man’s brain has many separate little compartments, like the surface of a waffle. Some of those little squares are empty. His brain moves from one square to another and can only reside in one square at a time. He doesn’t multitask in his thought life. A woman, on the other hand, is like spaghetti, her thoughts a tangled mass. There is no empty space. A woman’s mind is always busy, jumping easily from one thought to the next as all of them are associated in one way or another. A woman multitasks.
Well, I just heard the flush of the commode, so it’s time to make coffee. I’ll pick up on this later.

Three years later...

It’s been a while since I’ve updated this blog. Retirement has taken a few unexpected twists since I first began this new stage of life.
It’s been three years and three months now. Do I love retirement? I’ll let you know when I do, in fact, retire! I’m still working; it’s just that most of it is unpaid work. However, I’ve just begun a part-job that actually does pay, though I am yet to receive my first check.
When we first moved up here, I tried to find part-time work as a writer, since I had already done some writing while still living in Georgia. I went to both the local newspapers and was told they could not afford to pay any new writers. One paper, however, The Smoky Mountain Sentinel, was willing to publish a column on a weekly basis as long as I did it for free. I started writing “Somewhere in the Middle,” a political commentary that appeared between two other editorial columns by different writers entitled “Leaning Left” and “Reclining Right.” It was a cool concept, and I got LOTS of positive feedback from readers. I was willing to start writing the column for free because I had something I wanted to say, and I really hoped the publisher would appreciate my work so much he would eventually be willing to pay for it. That did not happen. I was spending HOURS each week researching and gathering information for my column. Once I had basically fulfilled my mission of educating people on the perilous condition of our economy, the column became more work than it was worth, which, apparently, was zero. I again approached the publisher and asked for a mere $15 per column and was told sorry, but no can do. At this point I decided that my hard work and my writing were worth something, and I wasn’t going to give it away anymore, so I quit. The next year I spent what free time I had concentrating on my painting. I even stopped blogging.
Then one day a friend of mine who worked for the other newspaper, The Clay County Progress, told me that her publisher might hire someone to cover local government meetings. She knew I loved to write and had taught government, so she thought the job might be right up my alley. I told her I would be interested. She said she would tell Becky, the publisher, and that she would probably call me later on. Several weeks went by and I heard nothing from anyone. Then one day, Doug and I attended the Festival on the Square in Hayesville, and we ran into my friend from the paper. Brenda told me that their main staff writer was leaving soon, and that they would be looking for someone to replace her. Brenda talked to Becky about me, but told Becky that I would probably not be interested in a full-time position because of my parents. (Besides that, I really did not want to come out of retirement completely. I like it too much, and I’ve gotten used to the freedom.) Becky told Brenda that she was considering replacing her staff writer with part-time, work-from-home help. Brenda thought it would be perfect for me, and I was definitely interested. I made an appointment to see Becky and took samples of my writing. She really seemed to like it. The only problem was, the more she talked about the job, the more involved it seemed. She not only wanted me to cover government meetings, but write at least two other feature articles each week. Sometimes she would assign me topics, but mostly I would have to seek out subjects to write on myself. I would also come into work for a full day each Monday and meet with her another day of the week to go over topics for the next week’s paper. She estimated I would spend around 24 hours a week, but knowing me, I would have spent longer. Becky ended the interview by telling me she had about four other people to talk to about the job, and that it would be at least two weeks before I would hear back from her. I went home and PRAYED for guidance, not sure whether I could handle the job or not. I finally decided that if it was offered to me, I would try it. After all, I could always quit.
Two weeks went by. I heard through a mutual friend that it was between me and one other person. I honestly didn’t know whether I was hoping to get it or not. Two and a half weeks later, I still hadn’t heard anything. I went to Mama’s to clean her house, and that day it seemed she and Daddy needed far more help than usual with everything. I came home hours later and told Doug that I really did not think I could handle working 24+ hours a week and Mama and Daddy, too. They needed MORE of my help, not less of it, and it would only get worse with time. Even if I could, there would be no time at all for painting, and I didn’t want to give that up. I’d already waited most of my life to have time to pursue my love for art. Besides that, I had two houses and a yard to keep up – and a garden. And I wanted time to visit my grandbaby. I told Doug I would contact Becky and tell her I was withdrawing my application. I figured she might have already hired the other person anyway. I sent Becky an email that day and felt relieved afterwards.
The next day I got a message from Becky telling me she was so sorry because she had planned to contact me that day offering the job! She did understand, however, as she had cared for her own mother until she died the previous year. I told Becky I really felt like God had kept her from calling me until I understood what I needed to do. She then asked me if I would consider ONLY covering the government meetings. I agreed to do that and believe that it all worked out for the best. Mama was relieved to know I wouldn’t be much busier than I already am.
So this past Tuesday I began my new career as a reporter for the Clay County Progress by covering a public forum on the construction of solar farms throughout the county. If you are not familiar with these, they are areas of about an acre covered with many large blue solar panels mounted on silver frames standing in a field of gravel and surrounded by a chain-link fence. They harvest the sun’s energy, thus the name “farm.” That energy is then sold to the local power company. So far, four have been constructed in the county and permits have been issued for seven more. Because of a lack of zoning, a farm can be built just about anywhere outside of town. As you can well imagine, people are irate about having one built on their adjoining property! Many people consider them an eyesore, destroying the natural beauty of these mountains where the main industry is tourism. There had been so much complaint, the Board of Commissioners called a special meeting to allow the public to voice their opinion about declaring a moratorium on issuing any more permits.
The meeting drew around sixty people who, for an hour and a half, voiced passionately-held opinions on the topic, both for and against. It was fascinating! I sat there scribbling notes furiously and came home that evening to type a rough draft, which I sent off to Becky last night. I’m still waiting to hear back from her. I cover another meeting tonight when they vote on the moratorium.
I got so interested in the whole solar farm issue that I volunteered to write another article on solar energy, since there is still so much people don’t know about it. That includes me, so off to the Net I go to do research! So far, I think I am going to enjoy this. I guess I am now partially, or mostly retired. I’ll keep you posted.

Christmas 2010

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Up and Down

Well, it’s been a while! So much has happened in the past few weeks – both good and terribly sad.
First the bad news… my dear friend Elizabeth Belcher lost both her parents just three weeks apart. Doug and I were visiting with Jim and Elizabeth at her parents’ home to watch the first game of the season (UGA) when her mother suddenly had what we believe was a stroke. She was unresponsive, just staring straight ahead and was having difficulty breathing. 911 was called. They took her to the hospital in the ambulance, and she died about two hours later. Needless to say, it was a traumatic day. Elizabeth and her parents, indeed her whole family, have always been very close. I knew it was going to be very hard on her and her dad. Then, three weeks later, Elizabeth was back at her dad’s house getting ready for her mom’s memorial service to be held the next day. Her dad collapsed and 911 was called again. The doctors told the family he had massive bleeding in his brain and there was no hope of recovery, that it was just a matter of hours. Elizabeth was simply devastated. She called us from the hospital, crying so hard it broke our hearts to hear her. The memorial service was held the next morning for her mom, but it turned into a celebration of both her parents’ lives. Her dad died later that same day. The following Wednesday, there was a double burial of their ashes.

Doug and I have known the McDowalls as long as we’ve known Jim and Elizabeth, since our college days. They were two of the sweetest people you could ever meet. They always made us feel so welcome, like we were part of the family. They were fortunate to have sharp minds right up till the end. While they both died easy deaths, the suddenness of it is terribly hard on the family they left behind. Please pray for Elizabeth.

The evening we got the call from Elizabeth about her dad was the evening before we left on our big vacation. We had plane tickets for early the next morning to fly to New York where we would board the Norwegian Dawn for a Canadian and New England cruise. We were already down at Mary Jane and Mike’s house, as they were going with us on the trip. So I was unable to even go to the hospital to be with Elizabeth. I am so sorry I could not be there for her, but Mary Jane and I prayed a long time for her that night, and we were in touch by phone. I’ve talked with her several times since then and hope to visit her soon. I bought a red and a pink rose bush for her to plant in memory of her parents and want to take them to her.

The day after Elizabeth’s tearful phone call, Mike, Mary Jane, Doug, and I got up early so we could leave for the airport by 6:30 AM. We were excited about our trip. On the way to Atlanta, however, I discovered that I had accidentally picked up Doug’s expired passport instead of his current one. (Don’t ask me why he kept the old one.) We hoped this would not cause problems, as it was too late to go home for it. We trucked on, and later had a very uneventful flight to NYC. I was not the least bit nervous, which was quite an accomplishment for someone who was terrified on my first plane trip – also to New York, but 24 years ago.

We arrived at LaGuardia only to discover that the shuttle bus we had booked in advance was not there, so after two phone calls and a thirty minute wait, we were finally taken to our hotel, the International, just a block off of Times Square. The hotel was very nice, and it should have been, as it cost us $391 a night – and that was with a discount! So the four of us decided we could share a room for a night. That worked out ok, but between Doug’s and Mike’s snoring, I didn’t get much sleep that night!

On our way to the hotel, we drove through Harlem. We noticed the van driver locked the doors as soon as we got into that part of the city!

We had not eaten lunch so after we settled in our hotel, we decided we would have a mid-afternoon meal to serve as both lunch and dinner. We started down the street towards Times Square and inquired about a good restaurant. Carmine’s was suggested. I had heard Regis and Kelly talk about this one, so I figured it must be good – and expensive. When we got there and looked at the menu, we thought it WAS too expensive. But then we found out that one dish would feed four people! We went on in and had an awesome Italian dinner.

We had a great time at Carmine’s. Then we walked around Times Square taking pictures. I am a country girl at heart, but I must admit it is exciting being in the heart of New York City – actually, the center of the world. So many people! So many taxis! Police presence was ubiquitous, so we felt quite secure. Everywhere, there were huge screens with all types of advertisements playing; even the whole side of a round building was a giant movie screen. There were street vendors on every corner selling I  New York tee-shirts and mugs and other paraphernalia. It was a loud, bustling, and amazing place to visit, but you couldn’t pay me enough to live there!

That evening, we walked down the street to see “The Lion King” on Broadway. The show was amazing!

The next day we got up and walked to a New York deli to eat breakfast, figuring that was part of the whole NYC experience. Then we bought a few souvenirs. I got Hayden the cutest little onesie outfit with little yellow taxi cabs all over it. Next, we decided to ride the subway down to Ground Zero. This would have been easy if all the trains had been running, but the one we needed closed due to construction. After asking multiple people for help, we were able to make a transfer and then get on a shuttle that took us past our stop since no one told us where we were! We got off and walked back to Wall Street past the bull and on to Ground Zero, which is basically just a construction site surrounded by a fence right now. At least we could say we had been there. Then we maneuvered the subway system again to get back to our hotel and checked out. A taxi picked us up to take us to the port. We were still anxious about that passport situation, and sure enough, Doug and I had to wait a while for them to check everything out, but we finally got on board.
We were told there would be no problem getting into Canada, and there wasn’t. Thank goodness!

After boarding the ship, we had a lovely and relaxing lunch in the main dining room. Then we explored the ship, meeting lots of fellow southerners on board. As we set sail, I took multiple pictures of the Statue of Liberty from our room’s balcony. She was so beautiful! That statute embodies everything that is wonderful about America.

All aboard and ready to set sail in New York

The next day we were at sea all day long. I was still thinking a lot about Elizabeth and feeling a bit sad. Mary Jane and I played double solitaire a lot in the game room. And of course, we ate. Boy, did we eat! The food on the ship was fantastic. We quickly discovered that the French toast, the chocolate croissants, and the hot wings were especially good, and went back for them often throughout the week. (Oh, and the chocolate macadamia nut cookies!) I gained four-and-half pound. Sigh.

On Tuesday, we arrived in Halifax, Nova Scotia. The temperature was quite pleasant, but it was foggy! We had booked a private van tour there, which we enjoyed very much. He drove us out to Peggy’s Cove, where there is a lighthouse that is one of the most photographed in the world. Peggy’s Cove is a very small and quaint fishing village. Lobster trapping is the main industry. On the way there, we also stopped at a maple syrup processing store and sampled all kinds of food and drinks made from maple syrup. We bought souvenirs there as well. Then we got a tour of Halifax. We learned about the great Halifax explosion that killed over 2000 people in 1917 (?) and went to the graveyard where the bodies of those on the Titanic were buried. (the few that were recovered) All in all, it was an interesting day. I got some neat fog pictures!

Foggy in Peggy's Cove, Nova Scotia

Wednesday was probably my least favorite day of the trip. We were in St. John’s, New Brunswick, and the weather was not good at all. The fog was soupy, and we wore our rain jackets as we explored the town. We had not booked an excursion, which was just as well, as we wouldn’t have been able to see anything anyway.

Thursday we arrived in Bar Harbor, Maine, our favorite port! The weather was beautiful. Bar Harbor is a lovely, quaint seaport with interesting shops to explore. I would love to go back there and stay a few days. We took a tour up to the top of Cadillac Mountain, which is the highest point on the east coast of the US. That’s where we actually saw some nice fall color. For the most part, we were too early to see New England’s famous color season. The view from on top of the mountain was awesome, and we got lots of good photos. Then we went down to Thunder Hole on the rocky shoreline and got more good pictures. By this time, the fog had rolled in again, but once we were back in town, it had lifted. We ate lobster rolls and blueberry crumb cake in a little café. Later we got ice cream.

Eagle Lake, Bar Harbor, Maine

Friday we arrived in Newport, RI. The weather was perfect! Mary Jane and I probably walked 8 or 9 miles that day! (The guys pooped out on us and returned to the ship to eat hot wings!) We walked along the lovely cliff walk where the famous mansions overlook the sea. It was beautiful.

Saturday we arrived in Boston where we walked the Freedom Trail and took a lovely harbor cruise. The next morning we were back in New York. We took our shuttle back to the airport and had a nice flight back to Atlanta. While not everything was perfect, we really enjoyed our cruise and each other’s company. It was a great week!

The following weekend, we had our annual family reunion at our house, so there was not much rest after our trip. Unfortunately, my two cousins from KY were unable to come this year, so it was basically just our immediate family, spouses, and children, though we did add Blake's fiance and Brent's girlfriend - and, of course, Hayden! (She was here in utero last year.) Hayden entertained us all and was so much fun.

So it's been a busy few weeks. Fall has arrived, and the leaves are rapidly turning. The mountains are lovely this time of year. We've been to the Fall Festival at the GA Mtn. Fairgrounds and heard Percy Sledge in concert. We're going back today to hear the fiddling. Then we plan to drive over the Cherahala Skyway and get some good fall pictures. This is my favorite time of the year!

Dealing with worry...

It’s been a while since I’ve blogged, but I’ve decided to write a series on how to stop worrying. Now, when those of you who know me best pick yourselves up off the floor and stop laughing, I’ll explain why I’m doing this. I’ve been reading one of the best books ever written on anxiety – How to Stop Worrying and Start Living by Dale Carnegie. It’s an old book published in 1944, but since the human mind hasn’t changed that much since then, I figure it’s just as relevant today as it was back then. I like the book because it’s not a lot of psychobabble examining the reasons why we worry; nor is it preachy, basically telling me that if I were a good Christian who trusted God enough, I wouldn’t have this problem. I don’t know why I’m a worrier, and frankly, I don’t much care. It’s either in my genes or it was ingrained in me in my childhood, or a combination of both. Psychologists now say that our personality is set by the age of six, and worrying is certainly a part of my personality. Whatever the reasons, no matter when it started, I simply want to know what to do about it now! Carnegie’s book offers many practical strategies for dealing with chronic worry.

So why am I writing about it? I’m a teacher. I’ve been a teacher since the age of eight when I forced my four-year-old sister to sit still and learn her letters and numbers. With three grandparents who were educators, I guess teaching is in my blood. With that inclination, any information that flows into my brain quite naturally comes out of my mouth. That may explain why that same little sister now affectionately calls me “Smart Butt.” (I’ve also been referred to by others as the Grammar Police…oh well, “I yam who I yam.”) ANYway, I learned something rather profound in my twenty-three years of teaching: If you want to learn something well, teach it to someone else. Learning something well means you internalize it, store it in your long-term memory, and most importantly, act on it! Well, I really, really want to learn how to deal with my worrying, so I am going to teach anyone reading this how to do so. That way, I can help myself and hopefully help others at the same time.

The first, and perhaps best, suggestion made by Mr. Carnegie is to think in “day-tight compartments.” This means that you compartmentalize your life into individual days and focus only on TODAY. You need to do this all the time. You don’t worry about tomorrow or next week or what’s going to happen five years down the road. If you are going to worry, it has to be about an immediate concern you are dealing with TODAY. It should also concern something you can actually do something about; otherwise, your worry is a waste of time and energy.

Now, me telling you this is not going to change you into a worry-free person overnight. Being a worrier is a lot like being an alcoholic – you will always be one. What you and I CAN do is learn strategies to help us deal with worries when they threaten to overtake us. I have memorized those two words – "day-tight compartments." Whenever I catch myself worrying about some future possibility, I repeat those two words to myself. This happens daily, sometimes several times. Catching myself is important, but it is just as important to replace the damaging thoughts with something else. As soon as I tell myself, “Day-tight compartments,” I start thinking about my plans for the day and what I need to accomplish. This works. Try it, and you will see, because we really cannot think about more than one thing at a time.
“But, but, but…,” you say. “My worries are real! I’m not just imagining things; bad stuff is quite likely to happen in my future.” I know – my worries are real, too. My parents are growing older and more forgetful by the day, increasingly needing my help. I’m getting older myself, and right now, old age does NOT look like a picnic. The economy just won’t get any better, and my son, who has a family to support and a house payment to make, works for a state that is out of money. So does my sister. My husband and I depend on a federal pension from a government that is 13 trillion dollars in debt and running unsustainable deficits. Health care is getting too expensive for ANYONE to afford. Muslim extremists want to destroy us, and the Chinese want to replace us as the next Superpower. The world is a big, scary place. I get that. But how much can I do about any of it? Not much, at least not today. So…I will focus on sphere of influence - today. Today, I am working at the art gallery and taking care of my responsibilities with the Art Guild. That’s enough to think about.

Actually, Carnegie was not the first person to come up with this concept. Jesus of Nazareth taught the principal over 2000 years ago. In Matthew 6:34, our Lord tells us, “Be not therefore anxious for the morrow; for the morrow will be anxious for itself. Sufficient unto the day is the evil thereof.” In today’s language, Jesus was saying we’ve got enough to worry about today. We can worry about tomorrow when tomorrow gets here.

The Trophy

In 1992, a British athlete by the name of Derek Redmond made Olympic history by losing a race. Derek had trained for years to achieve his goal of winning an Olympic gold medal and was well on his way to doing so in the 400 meter semi-finals when he tore a hamstring muscle and went down in pain. As the other runners passed him, he struggled to get up and, determined to cross the finish line, began hopping on one foot, his face grimaced in agony. Quickly, a large man pushed his way through the crowds and onto the track. Derek’s father ran to his son’s side and told him they would cross the finish line together. His dad supported Derek with his strong arm as the crowd rose to their feet and began to cheer. Triumphantly, Derek and his father crossed the finish line. Derek had lost the race but won the hearts of those who witnessed this great moment in sports history.

On that momentous day, Derek exemplified the words of the Apostle Paul who said, “Therefore, since we are surrounded by such a great cloud of witnesses, let us throw off everything that hinders and the sin that so easily entangles, and let us run with perseverance the race marked out for us.” Hebrews 12:1-3 Of course, Paul was not referring to a literal race, but a figurative race to the finish line of a life well-lived for God. The race is not easy. Just as Derek fell in his race, we, too, will fall along the way. Like Derek, we may limp to the end and need the help of our heavenly Father. There are so many things to entangle us, not just sin, but the everyday affairs of life that demand our time and attention, the worries that sap our energy and enthusiasm, and the pleasures that distract us from that which really matters. Just like Derek, we will know times of intense pain that will test our faith and commitment to Christ.

I have a friend, a feisty little Italian who is practical and rather blunt and always quick to offer an opinion. Many times I’ve heard her say, “Life is hard – and then you die.” That pithy little assessment of life always brings a laugh, but we know there is truth in those words. Life IS hard, and our mortal bodies will one day wither away and return to dust. But physical death is not the end. The prize, the trophy, lies beyond the finish line where we will see Jesus face to face and hopefully hear Him say, “Well done, good and faithful servant.”