Category: forgiveness

Be Someone II

There’s an iconic sign on a railroad overpass just north of downtown Houston. It says…

Courtesy of https://www.besomeoneco.com/store/

I often think about what that means.

There’s an iconic Xeroxed copy of my 10-year-old face tucked away in a long-forgotten cardboard box. Lucky for 54-year-old me, I have the digital image. I often think about that little girl. Clearly, she has always wished for me to be unapologetically me…

That little girl inside me long ago learned the power of visualization. Inside our head, we saw the roundoff back handsprings and the back flips before we made it happen. That little girl is alive and well. She reminds me of the magic of vision and dreams. She wishes me a life lived to the fullest and says, “Let go of the past and step into who we’re becoming—wiser and kinder and stronger.” She nudges me to forgive those who hurt me and wish them well. She roots for me to be an example of what is possible and cherish every moment.

Perhaps being someone is about embracing, trusting, and standing up for our authentic self, speaking our truth, aging gracefully, walking our unique path, sharing our gifts, taking care of our needs—body, mind, and spirit—believing and dreaming, learning and growing, carrying an abundance of love, seeking the good in others, understanding that humans have faults. These are the things I’m learning at age 54 and somehow the things I’ve always known.

Beauty in the Imperfection

On 11/11, Kody swept me away to Galveston for opening weekend of the beach side boutique Hotel Lucine. We discovered it when the owner/chef of our favorite fish taco shop forever closed her doors and announced that she would be joining the kitchen at the new hotel nearby. Originally built in the 1960s as Treasure Isle Motel, there was something metaphorical and magical about new beginnings, about taking something old and making it beautiful, and about the twelfth anniversary of our second marriage.

Photo courtesy of https://www.hotellucine.com/

The celebration started a little rough, as sometimes happens in life. There was no reservation under Byers, and Kody hadn’t received e-mail confirmation. No big deal. They had extra rooms, the receptionist eventually found the reservation under Kody Kody, and we all had a jolly laugh. Sadly, their restaurant, The Fancy, would not open for a few more days, but the kitchen was serving a limited menu in The Den. Another save. After the cheeseburgers we eventually devoured, we will be back.

In the room, a cute note awaited Kody and Kody, LOL, and some gifts for us. True to mid-century style, the room was spare with no chairs. The window overlooked the balcony, sans patio. Possibly an opening weekend oversight, there was an ice bucket but no glasses. Disappointing but fixable things.

I’ll take responsibility for the wine fail. In a rush to lighten the mood, I broke the cork. The lower half plopped into our nice anniversary bottle and floated. Instead of sitting on the bed and passing our pinot noir back and forth, I dashed down the stairs, past the pool, back inside to the bar, and asked for glasses. Now we could properly toast the day.

Next, Kody returned to the lobby for the purpose of a room change, a room with a patio—and chairs—overlooking the mid-mod courtyard pool. Not a problem. After schlepping our things around the corner and settling in a few doors away, the celebration commenced. We imbibed, turned up the music, and snapped some photos for proof of good cheer.

The sky transformed with the day from overcast grey to royal blue, stunning sapphire to a velvety navy, the beginning of something beautiful.

And the best part? On November 25th, we’ll celebrate our 34th anniversary of our first marriage. 37 years of togetherness, counting those years of courtship. 39 if you count the friendship. We’ve endured epic break ups and miraculous make ups. We’ve practiced, sometimes with reluctance, grace and gratitude…faith and forgiveness…peace and perseverance…and eternal hope. Nothing is perfect, but there’s beauty in the imperfection. Sometimes you must look and behold the transformation.

Hot Cross Buns

When I was in the second grade, my music teacher introduced our class to a plastic wind instrument called the recorder. We each received our own in a bag to take home and practice and keep forever.

My friend Robyn, a tall, quiet blonde with good grades, lived up the street and around the corner. One day she invited me to her house for after-school practice. This is where the details become a bit fuzzy. After playing “Hot Cross Buns” an indefinite number of times, I clearly remember wielding my recorder like a weapon, completely unprovoked, and cracking my friend on the top of her blonde head. Hard. From the bedroom doorway, I heard a gasp and turned to see Robyn’s older sister, eyes wide and jaw dropped.  

End scene.

I can only imagine Robyn’s sister saying, “Crystal, I think it’s time for you to go home.” I don’t think Robyn cried. I don’t think anyone reported me to Robyn’s mother. I don’t remember saying, “I’m sorry.” I do remember Robyn eventually moving to Texas and losing track of her over time.

In 2009, I found Robyn on Facebook and apologized for the time, forty years earlier, I hit her over the head with my recorder. I’m not sure she remembered, my apology now another distant recollection. Why had this brief memory haunted me through the years? I’m quite sure I was even meaner to my brother when we were kids, but that was mostly retaliation.

Humans are imperfect. We randomly act without thinking and hurt others without malicious intent. We often beat ourselves up for mishandled situations while judging others for their shortcomings. At other times, we don’t own up to our own roles in our own dramas. Life is complicated. Apologies, forgiveness, and understanding are not exactly simple. Sometimes, however, we owe ourselves peace. ‘Tis the season.

Photo by Jonathan Meyer on Pexels.com

A Morning Walk and Deep Thoughts

It’s a typical weekday. I’m walking the street behind my home before 8 am. On a two-story, brick house, a colorful flag, rainbow-striped, lifts in the breeze. I haven’t noticed it before. “NUMAH,” it reads. At least, that’s how I sound it out before realization dawns. I see the flag’s backside, the word backwards. “How often do we see things backwards? Misunderstand? Fail to notice?” I say to myself.

With the upcoming school year, I ponder these thoughts for days. “We’re all HUMAN–I think that’s the point–just trying to make our way. Not one in 7.9 billion is perfect.”

I remember a billboard I once saw.

I remember a saying I’ve heard.

Tag. You’re it. Pass it on.

Forgive.

I’m not going to lie. When I started thinking about F words and verbs for this month’s A-Z challenge, I struggled with my habitual G and PG ratings. I considered skipping F. Instead, I decided to confess my dirty mind and ask for your forgiveness.

Through teaching school for twenty years, I refined a philosophy. I get along with 99% of everyone I know, and the other 1% is not my problem. More often than not, those who fall in the 1% are dealing with something that has nothing to do with me. However, I later realized that sometimes the people crawling under my skin were the people closest to me. Did they fall into my 1%? Did I have a bigger problem getting along with people than I wanted to admit?

I came up with another philosophy through fifty-one years of life experience. Expectations in other people lead to disappointments. People will fail you. People, especially those closest to you, will say and do things you don’t like. What’s a person to do? Say, “I’m right and you’re wrong”? Fight about it? Hold grudges forever? Delete family and friends out of your life one-by-one? Forgive and move on?

Forgiveness is hard, and I’m no expert. But I do know life is too short to resent people for being human. If you struggle like me (and have an extra 38 minutes), you might want to watch this. This guy helped me.

I appreciate you for reading my 2021 A-Z Challenge post today. This April, I’m sticking to a theme of action: mental, physical, and spiritual, things I might already do or haven’t attempted in years or maybe never. You know what else I’m trying for some balance? Answers found in these links: Abstain, Ballet, Cartwheel, Devote, Encourage.

On the Turning Away

Church started with Pink Floyd last Sunday. Technically it was Domino. With his iconic dreads and electric guitar, he sang, “On the Turning Away.” I saw it online, and I just happen to have a link. Next came Jeff Jones, he’s the senior pastor, and the current series is “Love Like Jesus.” Feel free to scroll on. I’m posting it believing someone might need to hear and will watch.

Jeff started out his sermon with some word associations: “If I said ______, you would say _____.” Eventually making it to his point. “If I said, ‘Christian,’ I don’t know what you would say, depending on what your experience is…”

I knew where Jeff was going. I knew what should go in the blank, but I’ll be honest, my first thought was not positive. Forgive me for going there. I know there are lots of good Christians, amazing humans who give generously of their time and resources and have an unbelievable level of grace for others. But I also know lots of people who won’t step foot into a church…who feel judged by Christians…who have had bad church experiences. Almost daily during my online scrolling and sometimes in overheard conversation, I hear and see Christians passing judgement. And I think—what would Jesus do? What would Jesus say? What would Jesus post?

Jeff continued, “…but I know what we should be able to say, what anybody in the world should be able to say whether they are Christian or not or believe anything about Jesus…the first thing they should think about when they think about ‘Christian’ is love…because that’s the one thing that Jesus said,…’Love like I love.’”  

The weekend before last Ryan Leak kicked off the series. He’s a teaching pastor and a professional speaker. And the strange thing is—I saw him for the first time preaching at a church in Houston about a year ago, and then suddenly he’s popping up at my home church back in Dallas. Throughout the pandemic, Chase Oaks Church is my go to for Sunday mornings. I find extra inspiration and hope here. The sermons are archived on their website if needed, and you can fast forward through the music—or not.

 

Anyway, I go to church each Sunday for my weekly attitude adjustment. I am far from perfect. FAR. But I try. On the day of this U.S. Presidential election, I might not be perfect. Despite results, I’m sure I’ll need to be back in church by Sunday.

Jesus knows we’re all messed up. He offers forgiveness as a gift. And because He would, I’m sending love and peace your way—no matter who or where you are, no matter what you’ve done or what you believe. ❤️

J is for Jesus

I woke up to Good Friday and said to myself, “Duh! J is for Jesus.”

jesus saves neon signage
Photo by Patricia McCarty on Pexels.com

It was just before the Passover Festival. After the evening meal, Jesus washed the feet of his disciples and predicted his betrayal. Then Jesus said, “A new command I give you: Love one another. As I have loved you, so you must love one another. By this everyone will know that you are my disciples, if you love one another” (John 13:34-35).

As an English teacher, I notice he said, “must.” Love is imperative.

The night before Jesus carried his own cross to his own crucifixion, he commanded his disciples to “Love one another.” As a believer, I try. I’m the first to admit, I’m not perfect. I like to say that I get along with 99% of everyone I know, and the other 1% is not my problem. I admit to using the word hate from time to time, and honestly I hate myself for that. I hate to give someone else that sort of power over me. And so I ask myself—what would Jesus do? And I try to follow His teachings and live with His love and strength, His grace and forgiveness. And you know what? I can’t do that on my own.

A to Z Challenge

If you’ve been following my A-Z blogging challenge, thank you so much! Tomorrow I plan to rest and enjoy an Easter celebration, I wish all the same for you, and I hope to see you Monday with gratitude for the letter K.

A is for Apple and B is for Boozer and C is for Champagne and Chanel No. 5 and D is for Dad and E is for Epiphany and F is for Faith + Gratitude = Peace + Hope and G is for Great _______ and H is for Hatbox and Honeysuckle and I for an I

Lifted Lines

Last Sunday I drove southwest on 59 from my home in southwest Houston into the suburbs, almost into the country. In Richmond, I exited the freeway and turned right, down a paved road, another right into a dirt parking lot. The gravel crunched beneath my tires, and I found a spot near a chicken coop. Through the poultry netting and in addition to chickens, I discovered peacocks. On the other side of the coop, sunlight shone down on baby goats with their mothers. Beyond all of that lies a beautiful lake with ducks on the water and then River Pointe Church.

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I always say, “You can choose HOPE, or not.” And churches and cathedrals, temples and holy places, farm animals and wide open spaces give me HOPE. I find God in these places—and myself, like the me I hope to be.

Life is heavy. I don’t believe any of us are exempt from challenges, but I do believe in the power of prayer. I keep a list of friends and family in my prayers for surgeries and illnesses, dependencies and dysfunctional relationships, the trials of life and inevitable death.

I believe in the power of believing, and I believe in the power of words. Sometimes the wrong words and the wrong beliefs become trapped inside our heads. That’s when I like to have an arsenal of the right words and the right beliefs. I lifted some lines from church last week—for my arsenal—because they lifted me:

  1. Nothing has been wasted, no failure or mistake.
    When I doubt it, remind me I’m wonderfully made.
  2. When the world starts to blur and your soul feels heavy,
    know that you’re loved.
  3. It’s gonna be alright.
    It’s gonna be okay.
  4. We often believe that admitting we’ve failed makes us less Christian.
    Confession makes us more Christian.
  5. “Therefore, confess your sins to each other and pray for each other so that you may be healed. The prayer of a righteous person is powerful and effective” (James 5:16)

If the words above don’t lift you, go find words that do and places that do and people who do. You don’t have to believe everything you think, especially the bad stuff. And if you find yourself dwelling in the negative, find a new place to dwell.

Sidenote: A couple of weeks ago the pastor challenged us to read Samuel 1 and 2. These books contain the history of Israel leading into the story of David, as in the chosen-by-God David, who slayed the giant Goliath with his unwavering belief and a single stone. This same David later became king and committed adultery with Bathsheba who became pregnant. King David had Bathsheba’s husband murdered to cover up the sin. The sequence of events displeased the Lord, but King David confessed, and the Lord forgave.

Now, I am no bible scholar, and I don’t understand all of the wartime killing and all of David’s wives and concubines in the context of the Ten Commandments. What truly displeased the Lord was that King David took something that didn’t belong to him amidst everything he already had. Based on this temptation, David is probably the most relatable character in the Bible. (Hello, my name is human.) If an adulterer and a murderer can be forgiven, well then, there’s hope for you and me.

Confession to God grants us forgiveness. Confession to one another makes us whole.

 

 

Let It Go

Thanksgiving Episode 2

Back in Houston last Sunday, I tried a new church, River Pointe, by recommendation of my friend Mary. Like my Chase Oaks back in Dallas, the music was outstanding, a mix of contemporary and traditional, and for the second time in a week, I sang “It Is Well With My Soul.” This time the minister referenced the songwriter Horatio Spafford and said, “You should Google him.” I remembered the story from last week’s service in Oklahoma (Thanksgiving Episode 1) and silently wondered if God was trying to tell me something. I mean, my soul still felt pretty darn good. As pastor Ryan Leak spoke, I heard the boom of God’s voice and a special Thanksgiving message crystal clear.

Regardless of what you think about Jesus, you have to admit he has a common sense approach to relationship restoration. And while some of us can’t wait to gather with our families at Thanksgiving and throughout the upcoming holidays, some of us have some relationship issues that strike discord and darken spirits.

As I typed up a few sermon notes to keep for myself, I decided to share with you if you so choose to read on. Let us now turn to the New Testament.

“Then Peter came to Him and asked, ‘Lord, how many times will my brother sin against me and I forgive him and let it go? Up to seven times?’ Jesus answered him, ‘I say to you, not up to seven times, but seventy times seven’” (Matthew 18:21-22).

Did you see the italicized and? It’s not just about the forgiveness. We must also let it go.

“If your brother or sister sins against you, rebuke them; and if they repent, forgive them. Even if they sin against you seven times in a day and seven times come back to you saying, ‘I repent,’ you must forgive them” (Luke 17:3-4).

Before you sit down to the Thanksgiving table, remember the words. You see, faith allows you to do what sometimes seems impossible…like letting go and moving on. It is impossible that no offenses will come. We are human. None of us are perfect, but it’s so much easier to point the finger in blame rather than to let a wrongdoing go. Jesus says, “Let it go. 490 times. Let it go.” Did you notice the imperative statement, also known as a command (ment). Ask God to give you an opportunity to be honest (rebuke them), then be generous with your forgiveness and discerning with reconciliation. That is God’s message. The message I needed to hear.

As I left the sanctuary that day, the woman sitting next to me turned, looked me in the eye, and said in a lilting Nigerian accent, “And to think that God would give us the grace to forgive every family member.”