Years ago, I saw the movie, “Eyes Wide Shut.” At the time, I thought it was such an odd name for a movie. It starred Tom Cruise, so of course I had to see it. One cannot turn down a movie with Tom Cruise!
This was a fascinating film. I now understood the given title. It made perfect sense. Now, it is part of my list of idioms. I often refer to it while talking about faith and spirituality.
People may say they have spirituality and faith; it is their actions that count. Their eyes are open, believing in the two, but they are actually not seeing what is behind the terms. Not understanding how to live a spiritual life has the eyes remain shut.
They do not have to stay this way. A little bit of effort can grow into being fully aware of how to live a life to its fullest. It can begin with a simple hello and a smile while passing someone in the grocery aisle. Staying patient in the grocery line, as someone goes for a handwriting of the year award while writing out the perfect check, makes the spirit grow a little more. Not getting angry in the store’s parking lot, as someone zooms by, has those eyes open up a little further.
Initiating small practices of caring and kindness is how spirituality develops. In a restaurant, I ask the name of our server, if I do not see a nametag. There is a complete change in body posture as the person responds. The waiter is pleased to be recognized as a person, rather than being an object who waits upon another. A number of years ago, at the end of our meal, the waiter came over, knelt beside me on one knee, and began to tell me how he recently lost his grandfather. He was emotional, expressing to me how much his granddad had meant to him. I let him talk; I only listened, resting my hand on his arm. As he finished what he was saying, I told him I would say prayers for him, to help him get through these tough times. I added that I was not just saying the words that I would pray; I actually would, as I am quite spiritual. He replied that he could tell I was, that is why he told me his story. He had been holding in the feelings of his grandfather from everyone. When he met me, he finally felt he could say what had been building up inside of him. I was surprised and honored at the same time.
Listening is another way of practicing faith, a faith in God, in others and in my own being. I am no better than my fellow man. No matter the clothes another person wears, the job one holds or the society where an individual resides, all must be treated with dignity. It is not an easy task, but practicing this means applying faith in any situation given to me, As a result, spirituality is part of everyday life. It becomes as easy as breathing. Living out the faith becomes automatic.
I pray for those with eyes wide shut, that they may experience the beauty in life as I see it. I want those eyes, behind a glass shield, to break out and become aware of everything and everyone, caring, loving, listening, understanding,exercising patience and being respectful, wherever they are. I pray that they will see what opportunities stand in front of them, enjoying a fulfilled life, all by learning to live the faith, not just to believe in it.
Wednesday, June 16, 2010
Sunday, June 13, 2010
WHAT IS FAITH?
What is faith?
It is to know that though
We cannot always see the sun,
It rises each day.
It is to know that though
We cannot always be in the
Same room of our loved ones,
We still love them deeply.
It is to know that though the night is black,
There is no emptiness within its vast darkness.
It is to know that though
We cannot see our Creator,
He is always there.
It is to know that though
We cannot touch Him,
He never stops touching us with
His blessings.
It is to know that in the darkness,
He is there to keep us safe
It is to know that no matter
What is given to us,
He is there holding us,
Never, ever letting us go.
~Marie T. Morrison
It is to know that though
We cannot always see the sun,
It rises each day.
It is to know that though
We cannot always be in the
Same room of our loved ones,
We still love them deeply.
It is to know that though the night is black,
There is no emptiness within its vast darkness.
It is to know that though
We cannot see our Creator,
He is always there.
It is to know that though
We cannot touch Him,
He never stops touching us with
His blessings.
It is to know that in the darkness,
He is there to keep us safe
It is to know that no matter
What is given to us,
He is there holding us,
Never, ever letting us go.
~Marie T. Morrison
SUNSHINE, CHERRIES and BLESSINGS
No wind today,
Only blue skies and sunshine.
Birds are chirping,
Excited to attack our tree of cherries.
Those tin plates help a little bit,
In keeping the winged creatures at bay,
Reflecting the bright rays of the warm sun.
It's a beautiful day to sing high praises to God,
For sharing
His spirituality throughout His endless creations.
Blessings to everyone!
Only blue skies and sunshine.
Birds are chirping,
Excited to attack our tree of cherries.
Those tin plates help a little bit,
In keeping the winged creatures at bay,
Reflecting the bright rays of the warm sun.
It's a beautiful day to sing high praises to God,
For sharing
His spirituality throughout His endless creations.
Blessings to everyone!
Saturday, June 12, 2010
WINDY BLESSINGS
Quite a windy day. After saying “GOOD morning, God!,”
I thought of all the weddings today, dresses blowing.
May the new couples feel extra blessings of the Spirit,
Of wisdom, knowledge, faith, love, joy, peace,
Patience, kindness, goodness, humility and self-control,
As they begin their new lives as one."
I thought of all the weddings today, dresses blowing.
May the new couples feel extra blessings of the Spirit,
Of wisdom, knowledge, faith, love, joy, peace,
Patience, kindness, goodness, humility and self-control,
As they begin their new lives as one."
Friday, June 11, 2010
MATTERS
Today is a whole new day. It doesn’t matter what happened yesterday, it doesn’t matter to worry about tomorrow. Take the day God has given you and live it as if it were your last. Notice every little thing God has put on this earth and hug the people around you. Smile and praise God for this day, to enjoy His never-ending blessings.
Tuesday, June 8, 2010
HAVING TO SAY GOOD-BYE
Gigi, a toy poodle, has been in the family for nearly 20 years. Her first owner was Aunt Fern. She was spoiled rotten, as a toy poodle should be. Gigi went everywhere with her, wearing a fancy collar, sparkling against her light brown and curly fur. Uncle Tom, Aunt Fern’s husband, spoiled Gigi as much as she did. They took her for daily rides and would stop at Arby’s or McDonald’s to buy her a meal. No, it wasn’t the best diet, but Gigi was didn’t mind. She remained at nine pounds as she munched away on a roast beef sandwich or a Big Mac.
Aunt Fern passed away, but Uncle Tom made sure the daily outings continued. Gigi would sit right there next to him, often with her little head on his lap, curling up under the car’s steering wheel. Now, stops included getting her a medium-rare steak ‘to go’ from a nice restaurant. What a high life she led, having different colored collars, always filled with rhinestones. Her little outfits were adorable. There were those for the summer heat and others for the winter cold. Her leather leash was a shiny gold one. She really did not need a leash, as both Aunt Fern and Uncle Tom carried her everywhere, inside the house and out. At night, she would scratch the blankets on the bed, until they made a little nest, dropping off to sleep near her owner’s pillow.
Uncle Tom passed on, and Gigi came to live with Helen, my mother-in-law. She had a new person to spoil her now. However, she did have to get used to canned dog food for the first time. I have a feeling, though, that Helen was able to sneak Gigi an occasional Arby’s meal while taking her out for a ride. Helen would have Gigi sit on her lap, in the house, while in her wheelchair and when out in the car. After making her nightly nest and snuggling up at night by her new owner, she took to treasuring a tiny stuffed dog, kept under her paws as she slept. Gigi began to snore as she slumbered. She was a tiny thing, but you could hear the snoring two doors down the hall.
Helen became ill, unable to take care of Gigi. She came to live with us. She was no longer an only child. The first time she saw our two other dogs, weighing about four times her weight, she could not figure out who or what they were. Their expressions and tilted heads had the same look as hers. They were two small mutts from the dog pound and here was this nine-pound creature, perfectly groomed.
She did not want to have anything to do with them. They attempted to paw at her, to engage in play, whatever this tiny four-legged animal was. However, her loud yap as their paws touched sent them running. Their cute faces looked hurt, as everyone else wanted to play with them. Gigi didn’t move from her spot; it was not only because she had not seen another dog before, but because she really had not used her legs until now, always being carried everywhere.
The next shock for little Gigi was dry dog food. She actually turned her little snoot up in the air, turning her head to the side, as the bowl was set in front of her. It did not take too long before she accepted the grain. She learned quickly there was competition in this household. If she raised her nose up as a sign of disgrace for the food, one of the other dogs was too happy to eat it for her. It also became the first time for her to accept a dog biscuit. My mother-in-law sadly exclaimed she bought biscuits, but Gigi would not eat them, curious why she would eat them for us. We laughed, saying Gigi was not about to step to the side. If the other two wanted her biscuit, she would let out one of her loud yaps, announcing her claim. They would quickly retreat, not wanting to hear more than once that warning to stay away. She even learned to sit up for the biscuit. Aunt Fern, Uncle Tom and Helen would be quite indignant if they knew their baby had to beg for the biscuit, but Gigi loved it.
My mother-in-law departed to meet her maker, making Gigi a full member of the family. We inherited the collars and outfits, and her tiny stuffed dog, a gray poodle. The three dogs began to get along, even though it was more of a parallel play. She did let them get close to her, just not close to her food bowl or her dog biscuit. She did not need to worry; Pavlov’s Law of Contingency took immediate affect after those first few yaps.
The gray stuffed poodle rested on our bed every night, her paws resting atop it, making a new nest amongst the covers. I could not tell who was snoring louder, my husband or the dog. I decided it would be nicer to move out Gigi than my husband. I made a cute bed of pillows and blankets under my desk, the stuffed poodle resting nearby. Her yaps let me know she did not like this, but I stood my ground. I won’t say it was easy, but I remained stalwart.
She did not stay too mad at me. Soon, she was following me like a shadow, even if I was only moving across the room. Family members and friends would laugh how she stuck to me, never being more than a few inches away from my feet. Yes, I did hold her in my lap while I sat on the couch, reading or visiting with a friend. In the car, she had her own pillow, sitting next to me. In the evenings, though, she became my husband’s dog. She wanted to curl up on his lap, not mine. This became quite the routine for little Gigi. In time, the stuffed dog disappeared, her loving the life among the family.
By now, we had a fourth dog, a border collie. My husband had found her as a puppy deep in the mountains, abandoned under a tree. The collie and Gigi were quite accepting of one another. If the collie and the other ‘big’ dogs ran out the door, madly barking at a bird, she would follow suit, yapping her hardest, trying to keep up with them on her short legs. I do not think she ever knew there was a bird out there; she just knew if they were running and barking she should do this too.
Years slipped by, and she could not sit up to beg anymore. Her eyes filled with cataracts and her hearing was poor. She began to spend much of her time sleeping on her pillows, still making a nest, making sure her special blanket was in its special place. I had lost my shadow. She wanted to be in my lap to sleep, but felt more comfortable under the desk. As the other dogs ran for an ice cube, she tried to join them, but her precious legs would not let her. I saw it hurt her to take any step forward. I took a treat to her and the poor little thing could not even bite down on it. I held out her small bowl of water, seeing it was too difficult to take a sip.
Gigi had been declining over the past several months, but I could not bear to see her put to sleep. Just when I thought it was time, she would excitedly take a dog biscuit or run with the other dogs, happily joining them in the bird chase. Now, I knew it was time to say good-bye.
A month ago, I had called to find out what to do when this time came. It was a tough call that day, but it was easier for me this morning, knowing what to do. I picked her up with one hand, reaching for her favorite blanket with the other. I squeezed her tightly in a hug and placed her in the seat beside mine, this time putting her blanket down first. She immediately fell asleep during the half-hour drive. No longer could she sit up excitedly, staring out during our ride.
At Animal Care, a friendly clerk met me, opening the door for me. I explained to her what I knew I had to do. She was very caring, as was the other clerk, gently talking to me as I gave them the needed information. It was time for the clerk to walk around the desk and take this cherished friend from my arms. I gave her one final, tight hug and handed her to the kind staff member, having her place Gigi’s favorite blanket around her as they walked away. My eyes filled with tears.
She has now joined Aunt Fern, Uncle Tom and Helen. They have waited a long time for her. In no time, she will be eating steak and coddled for all eternity. As they beam that their Gigi has finally come home, I continue to have tears running down my cheeks. God knew what He was doing, blessing all of us with the infinite love of an endearing nine-pound poodle.
Though I have a hole in my heart, my little dog is now at peace. I smile as I envision the surprise of Aunt Fern, Uncle Tom and Helen, hearing Gigi let out a yap, running off to join her four-legged pals in their enchanting chase.
Aunt Fern passed away, but Uncle Tom made sure the daily outings continued. Gigi would sit right there next to him, often with her little head on his lap, curling up under the car’s steering wheel. Now, stops included getting her a medium-rare steak ‘to go’ from a nice restaurant. What a high life she led, having different colored collars, always filled with rhinestones. Her little outfits were adorable. There were those for the summer heat and others for the winter cold. Her leather leash was a shiny gold one. She really did not need a leash, as both Aunt Fern and Uncle Tom carried her everywhere, inside the house and out. At night, she would scratch the blankets on the bed, until they made a little nest, dropping off to sleep near her owner’s pillow.
Uncle Tom passed on, and Gigi came to live with Helen, my mother-in-law. She had a new person to spoil her now. However, she did have to get used to canned dog food for the first time. I have a feeling, though, that Helen was able to sneak Gigi an occasional Arby’s meal while taking her out for a ride. Helen would have Gigi sit on her lap, in the house, while in her wheelchair and when out in the car. After making her nightly nest and snuggling up at night by her new owner, she took to treasuring a tiny stuffed dog, kept under her paws as she slept. Gigi began to snore as she slumbered. She was a tiny thing, but you could hear the snoring two doors down the hall.
Helen became ill, unable to take care of Gigi. She came to live with us. She was no longer an only child. The first time she saw our two other dogs, weighing about four times her weight, she could not figure out who or what they were. Their expressions and tilted heads had the same look as hers. They were two small mutts from the dog pound and here was this nine-pound creature, perfectly groomed.
She did not want to have anything to do with them. They attempted to paw at her, to engage in play, whatever this tiny four-legged animal was. However, her loud yap as their paws touched sent them running. Their cute faces looked hurt, as everyone else wanted to play with them. Gigi didn’t move from her spot; it was not only because she had not seen another dog before, but because she really had not used her legs until now, always being carried everywhere.
The next shock for little Gigi was dry dog food. She actually turned her little snoot up in the air, turning her head to the side, as the bowl was set in front of her. It did not take too long before she accepted the grain. She learned quickly there was competition in this household. If she raised her nose up as a sign of disgrace for the food, one of the other dogs was too happy to eat it for her. It also became the first time for her to accept a dog biscuit. My mother-in-law sadly exclaimed she bought biscuits, but Gigi would not eat them, curious why she would eat them for us. We laughed, saying Gigi was not about to step to the side. If the other two wanted her biscuit, she would let out one of her loud yaps, announcing her claim. They would quickly retreat, not wanting to hear more than once that warning to stay away. She even learned to sit up for the biscuit. Aunt Fern, Uncle Tom and Helen would be quite indignant if they knew their baby had to beg for the biscuit, but Gigi loved it.
My mother-in-law departed to meet her maker, making Gigi a full member of the family. We inherited the collars and outfits, and her tiny stuffed dog, a gray poodle. The three dogs began to get along, even though it was more of a parallel play. She did let them get close to her, just not close to her food bowl or her dog biscuit. She did not need to worry; Pavlov’s Law of Contingency took immediate affect after those first few yaps.
The gray stuffed poodle rested on our bed every night, her paws resting atop it, making a new nest amongst the covers. I could not tell who was snoring louder, my husband or the dog. I decided it would be nicer to move out Gigi than my husband. I made a cute bed of pillows and blankets under my desk, the stuffed poodle resting nearby. Her yaps let me know she did not like this, but I stood my ground. I won’t say it was easy, but I remained stalwart.
She did not stay too mad at me. Soon, she was following me like a shadow, even if I was only moving across the room. Family members and friends would laugh how she stuck to me, never being more than a few inches away from my feet. Yes, I did hold her in my lap while I sat on the couch, reading or visiting with a friend. In the car, she had her own pillow, sitting next to me. In the evenings, though, she became my husband’s dog. She wanted to curl up on his lap, not mine. This became quite the routine for little Gigi. In time, the stuffed dog disappeared, her loving the life among the family.
By now, we had a fourth dog, a border collie. My husband had found her as a puppy deep in the mountains, abandoned under a tree. The collie and Gigi were quite accepting of one another. If the collie and the other ‘big’ dogs ran out the door, madly barking at a bird, she would follow suit, yapping her hardest, trying to keep up with them on her short legs. I do not think she ever knew there was a bird out there; she just knew if they were running and barking she should do this too.
Years slipped by, and she could not sit up to beg anymore. Her eyes filled with cataracts and her hearing was poor. She began to spend much of her time sleeping on her pillows, still making a nest, making sure her special blanket was in its special place. I had lost my shadow. She wanted to be in my lap to sleep, but felt more comfortable under the desk. As the other dogs ran for an ice cube, she tried to join them, but her precious legs would not let her. I saw it hurt her to take any step forward. I took a treat to her and the poor little thing could not even bite down on it. I held out her small bowl of water, seeing it was too difficult to take a sip.
Gigi had been declining over the past several months, but I could not bear to see her put to sleep. Just when I thought it was time, she would excitedly take a dog biscuit or run with the other dogs, happily joining them in the bird chase. Now, I knew it was time to say good-bye.
A month ago, I had called to find out what to do when this time came. It was a tough call that day, but it was easier for me this morning, knowing what to do. I picked her up with one hand, reaching for her favorite blanket with the other. I squeezed her tightly in a hug and placed her in the seat beside mine, this time putting her blanket down first. She immediately fell asleep during the half-hour drive. No longer could she sit up excitedly, staring out during our ride.
At Animal Care, a friendly clerk met me, opening the door for me. I explained to her what I knew I had to do. She was very caring, as was the other clerk, gently talking to me as I gave them the needed information. It was time for the clerk to walk around the desk and take this cherished friend from my arms. I gave her one final, tight hug and handed her to the kind staff member, having her place Gigi’s favorite blanket around her as they walked away. My eyes filled with tears.
She has now joined Aunt Fern, Uncle Tom and Helen. They have waited a long time for her. In no time, she will be eating steak and coddled for all eternity. As they beam that their Gigi has finally come home, I continue to have tears running down my cheeks. God knew what He was doing, blessing all of us with the infinite love of an endearing nine-pound poodle.
Though I have a hole in my heart, my little dog is now at peace. I smile as I envision the surprise of Aunt Fern, Uncle Tom and Helen, hearing Gigi let out a yap, running off to join her four-legged pals in their enchanting chase.
Monday, June 7, 2010
NOISE and a NICHE
I was in a busy department store this morning. While my daughter shopped for make-up, I found the book aisle. Among the loud noises of intercom announcements, children running and yelling and customers calling out to one another, I was happy and at peace in my quiet niche. I felt the spirituality surround me in my chair while I read many a book cover, loving the touch of the paper.
NOISE and a NICHE
I was in a busy department store this morning. While my taughter shopped for make-up, I found the book aisle. Among the loud noises of intercom announcements, children running and yelling and customers calling out to one another, I was happy and at peace in my quiet nice. I felt the spirituality surround me in my chair while I read many a book cover!
Saturday, June 5, 2010
DON'T WORRY
"Woke up to tremendous pain all over. This is when I am strongest in my spirituality, knowing I am not carrying my
cross alone, that God is right there, telling me, 'Good morning! Don't worry. I will keep you company all day long!'
It's great to feel His closeness on these extra special days!"
cross alone, that God is right there, telling me, 'Good morning! Don't worry. I will keep you company all day long!'
It's great to feel His closeness on these extra special days!"
Friday, June 4, 2010
GRADUATION
Watched my 18 year old graduate this morning, while sitting in my wheelchair and looking out on the football field where the graduates sat. God had the sun shining upon us on this memorable day. Many blessings to all the graduates, feeling the spirituality surrounding them as they venture forth!
Thursday, June 3, 2010
DELLA
While attempting to de-clutter,my summer goal,I ran across an article on one of our town’s older elementary schools. I have no idea why I saved the article, as I never attended it. However, I did go to the junior high across the street from this elementary school, allowing me to visit Della’s Place, located in the back alley of Wood Gormley Elementary. Life was innocent and carefree back then. During the lunch break, all of us could leave our campus and walk over to her little store, no adult supervision needed.
Della’s Place was more of a good-sized tool shed than store, dark green in color. There was a plywood front door, painted in the same shade of green, only kept secured with a small padlock when Della wasn’t there. It had a few pane windows, and inside she had painted the three or four picnic tables a bright sky-blue, as well as the walls and floor.
I don’t know how all of us fit in her place every lunch, but we did. We could not wait to buy the penny-candies she had behind her glass counter, or one of her 15-cent hot dogs, served on a Popsicle stick, right out of the constantly boiling pot of water. Rumor was that she would get the Popsicle sticks out of the trash and use them again the next day. This brought forth many a broken stick after the hotdog was consumed, just in case it was true. Of course, there was no such thing as a state health department coming over to check on sanitary conditions.
Della was a feisty woman. She had bright red hair and wore huge rhinestone earrings. She would tell us they were diamonds, though no one believed it. I do not recall her voice ever being a calm one, as she was always calling out to someone to be quiet or to wait his or her turn. We all loved her just the way she was, looking out at us behind her giant glass frames.
The saddest thing about graduating from junior-high was the end of our visits to Della’s. There would be new kids coming to visit the next year, breaking the Popsicle sticks, calling out to Della to give them a hot dog, and Della calling out in turn. She served generations of families.
Della got too old to run the store one day. She closed up shop and that was it. The back of her store faced the yard of a family home, the owner of the property. The store went back to being a tool shed. I know I was not the only adult who would take a walk through the alley in later years, reminiscing about times with Della.
New owners bought the home and planned to tear down their shed, having little idea of its history. As it was a permanent structure, a building permit was required before they could go through with their plans. They were in for a shock, as the locals in town were outraged at such a thought. Della and her building were pieces of history! How could anyone even think of destroying all those memories! The Historical Review Board spent many months arguing that though the building was about to fall down, it must remain.
In the end, the owners won their case. They received permission to tear down its walls. If those walls could talk, what stories it would tell! Rather, we must be the ones to share the stories. We will keep Della alive, as she brought joy to thousands of youngsters, all through her ‘no bigger than a minute’ store of penny-candy and hotdogs.
Della’s Place was more of a good-sized tool shed than store, dark green in color. There was a plywood front door, painted in the same shade of green, only kept secured with a small padlock when Della wasn’t there. It had a few pane windows, and inside she had painted the three or four picnic tables a bright sky-blue, as well as the walls and floor.
I don’t know how all of us fit in her place every lunch, but we did. We could not wait to buy the penny-candies she had behind her glass counter, or one of her 15-cent hot dogs, served on a Popsicle stick, right out of the constantly boiling pot of water. Rumor was that she would get the Popsicle sticks out of the trash and use them again the next day. This brought forth many a broken stick after the hotdog was consumed, just in case it was true. Of course, there was no such thing as a state health department coming over to check on sanitary conditions.
Della was a feisty woman. She had bright red hair and wore huge rhinestone earrings. She would tell us they were diamonds, though no one believed it. I do not recall her voice ever being a calm one, as she was always calling out to someone to be quiet or to wait his or her turn. We all loved her just the way she was, looking out at us behind her giant glass frames.
The saddest thing about graduating from junior-high was the end of our visits to Della’s. There would be new kids coming to visit the next year, breaking the Popsicle sticks, calling out to Della to give them a hot dog, and Della calling out in turn. She served generations of families.
Della got too old to run the store one day. She closed up shop and that was it. The back of her store faced the yard of a family home, the owner of the property. The store went back to being a tool shed. I know I was not the only adult who would take a walk through the alley in later years, reminiscing about times with Della.
New owners bought the home and planned to tear down their shed, having little idea of its history. As it was a permanent structure, a building permit was required before they could go through with their plans. They were in for a shock, as the locals in town were outraged at such a thought. Della and her building were pieces of history! How could anyone even think of destroying all those memories! The Historical Review Board spent many months arguing that though the building was about to fall down, it must remain.
In the end, the owners won their case. They received permission to tear down its walls. If those walls could talk, what stories it would tell! Rather, we must be the ones to share the stories. We will keep Della alive, as she brought joy to thousands of youngsters, all through her ‘no bigger than a minute’ store of penny-candy and hotdogs.
Wednesday, June 2, 2010
A Splendid Summer Evening
"http://www.facebook.com/?ref=home#!/pages/Spirituality-From-A-Wheelchair/123019554388130?ref=ts"
Sitting outside on a beautiful summer evening,
The family gathered together around the table on the deck,
Eating by candlelight while surrounded by apple trees.
Hearing the crickets singing ever so lightly
As cards are played after dinner,
With lots of laughter and chatter.
Everyone so happy,
Knowing God is behind these splendid, relaxing moments.
Sitting outside on a beautiful summer evening,
The family gathered together around the table on the deck,
Eating by candlelight while surrounded by apple trees.
Hearing the crickets singing ever so lightly
As cards are played after dinner,
With lots of laughter and chatter.
Everyone so happy,
Knowing God is behind these splendid, relaxing moments.
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