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Mary Jane Holt COLUMN - February, 2010
I recently hurried in and out of a major department store. In and out had been my plan. It was late afternoon. I did not feel well. I had things to do.
Excuses: we all have them.
So when the woman with the unbelievable smile approached with arms reaching out to me, I smiled and spoke, but I quickly eluded her embrace.
I had things to do.
My sons helped teach me to hug 30 years ago. I now am known for my hugs. I love hugging. I hug all ages, both sexes, friend and stranger alike. It is a rewarding gesture. So it was totally out of character for me to rush away from a potential hug… even from a total stranger!
Yet I did, and I fought tears all the way to my next appointment. I wanted to turn around and go back and give and receive that missed embrace, but I did not.
Three days later, I was sitting in the waiting area of a professional office when the door opened and in walked that same woman. Immediately, my inner voice whispered, “You are getting another chance.”
When the woman saw me, sure enough, her face lit up and she reached for me again. As two almost strangers embraced I felt overwhelming love flow from her body and hands, especially her hands, and her eyes. I was SO moved and blessed.
In a few short conversational moments I came to realize that the lady was around 80 years old and that she had dementia. I knew this from observation, but then the gentle, loving and attentive daughter who was with her confirmed it.
Then, a couple of hours later I encountered the two of them at a local restaurant. Once more, when the lady saw me, she eagerly popped up from her meal and embraced me again. Her hug should be marketed!
Prayerfully and slowly I drove away in tears as a timely epiphany washed over me. My hero family of the day had just shown me that aged, Alzheimer affected ones do not have to sit alone and stare into emptiness as they await death… and yet that is a growing trend in American society.
At last two things may have to happen to reverse that trend.
ONE
Perhaps we all should fervently pray as I did on my tearful drive back home, “God, teach us how to reach out and touch; and if we should develop dementia, let loving gestures be so much a part of who we are that love can still flow through us to others. If all our other mental faculties fail, Lord, let us still be your vessel for pouring out your love in a world of people who foolishly think they are too busy to slow down and receive it.
TWO
Families who have become “too busy” must embrace imperfect loved ones of all ages as clearly this amazing woman’s extended hero family embraces her.
MARY JANE HOLT column for 11-10-08
Though I have not been able to fully understand the connection yet, Tommy immediately made me think of the song: Cowboy in the Continental Suit as recorded by Marty Robbins. I met Tommy in mid October, in
Oh, no, he was not dressed in a “continental suit” - not at all! A plaid shirt, a black cowboy hat, jeans, and boots were his attire. It’s just that I was so not prepared for what came in the package, as in humility, light, talent, joy, a smile like none other, and an amazing heart for God! Indeed, a very bright Light shines through Music Evangelist Tommy Brandt.
Tommy was ICM’s Male Vocalist of the Year for 2006 and 2007. He has had seven number one songs already on the Christian Country charts, including: No Turning Back; ‘Till You Start Walking; Hook, Line & Sinker; Somebody’s Gotta Pray; I Believe In Angels; and Triple Play. Though he had me when the first note left his tongue, I would soon become even more struck by his humility and the way other artists looked up to him.
Throughout the week in
A few years after the wedding, they sold their beautiful four bedroom home on the golf course, bought a bus and hit the road so Tommy could preach and sing for and about Jesus, the One Whose Light now shines through this amazing artist. Peace, clarity, harmony and purpose now reign where disillusionment and dysfunction once ruled.
Tommy and his family stopped to visit while passing through last week. On the second evening he was here, I introduced him to a group of young men at a Boy’s Ranch near my home, boys not unlike Tommy was a couple of decades back. They, too, saw and responded to the Light in him. The following night, I invited a few friends over and we all sat under the barn while Tommy sang.
Our entire visit was laced with joyful moments to remember. One of the most precious of those moments came when Miss Olene stopped by on Thursday afternoon to tell me she could not be present later to hear Tommy as she wanted to support her granddaughter at a school event that night. So she asked if Tommy, who was hooking up his equipment at the time, could sing just one song for her.
I took her out to the barn and he sung The Lighthouse as her toes gently tapped and her frail body tenderly rocked to the beat of the music. Mesmerized is what she was and happy to have her private moment with a star.
Tears welled in my eyes and my husband’s as we experienced with the two of them this very special time.
Later that night numerous attendees felt that Tommy was singing just for them. An occasional healing tear dampened the night air in the midst of the happy celebration that ruled. A strong sense of community prevailed for neighbors brought pots of chili and hot cider and marshmallows to roast on an open fire near the barn.
First hand, up close and personal I watched an amazing, God-called evangelist minister to the small crowd that had gathered on a cool
Check him out at www.tommybrandt.org ! I do not begrudge the southwest for all the exposure they have had to him, but folks who were in my barn that night think we need to bring Tommy Brandt back home!
If he comes your way, don’t be looking for a Cowboy in a Continental Suit; just know that when Tommy picks up his guitar and starts singing – you will get more than you expect. ‘cause that’s what happens when folks who are relentlessly sold out to Jesus cross your path.
NOTE: You can hear Tommy sing by clicking on the Music Page at this website!
MARY JANE HOLT column for October 28, 2008
When I first heard Greg McDougal sing, he was introduced as Christian Country’s own James Taylor. Certainly, it is easy to recall
I suspected as the first note left his tongue that Greg had been granted more than some would consider his fair share of talent - talent laced with the raw energy and passion born of intense heartache. It took a few days for me to begin to understand.
I was in
Greg moved to
Greg and Diane welcomed their firstborn only to have him immediately snatched from their eager, reaching arms and rushed to Vanderbilt hospital with a hole in his intestine, a diagnosis of Cystic Fibrosis, and the first of many fights for his life.
Subsequently, Greg left the music industry and the travel it too often required. He would not leave his wife and child. A man at this church in
A while back, when a carpet free and mold resistant home was added to the list of things needed to enhance his kids’ quality of life, God led Greg back to his music, but He never told him to put down his hammer. Today, he’s putting nails into a new and healthier home for his kids – a home made possible by those who have supported Greg’s music since he gave his talent back to God three years ago and recorded the amazing CD, “The Work of a Carpenter.”
Daddy hammers by day, actively loves his family by night and sings on the weekends. When things are going good, and their health permits, the kids sing with Dad at the growing number of churches to which he is being called to tell his story and theirs.
Greg’s amazing voice with that “something more” I felt so bent on defining, sings praises to the God who has held onto him, sustained his family, and blessed them beyond measure through the financial struggles, mental and emotional anguish, the physical pain, the uncertainty, the quest for relief, for hope, for a cure…
Greg’s house for his kids will soon be complete, yet donations continue to trickle in. He believes God has a plan! He is establishing a non-profit organization through which he can continue to hammer and sing for the glory of God as he uses money from his music to replace carpet with hard floor flooring, build wheel chair ramps, and address mold and mildew problems for other families where children suffer with Cystic Fibrosis.
The road has not been an easy one, as he attests to in the song, "Grace," which he wrote for his wife Diane after the birth of their fourth child, Grace, who the doctors felt sure would be born healthy. She was not and so he wrote these words:
“… I know your heart is broken
sometimes this life is tough
but think of where we might be
if not for God and his love
before you let the world decide
where you’ll put your trust …
remember all the grace
he gives to us…"
You can read Greg’s story in his words at www.ahouseformykids.com .
You can hear the kids sing at: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=P3A277jdl-8 . You can contact me for more information through www.maryjaneholt.com OR just google Greg McDougal! I hope you can find a way to let him touch your life as he has touched mine!
MARY JANE HOLT Column for 9-13-08 -
“You don’t wake up one morning and say, ‘I want to be a drug addict, a stripper, a prostitute.’ You get there one choice at a time. There are approximately 6000 strippers in the metro
Then she added, “I am often asked, ‘who are these girls?’”
Cindy was visiting Heritage Christian Church in Fayetteville, GA. There to talk about the
Nearly every hand went up.
Then she told us, “These girls are daughters, granddaughters and nieces. They are somebody’s baby who will do just about anything to obtain love and acceptance.
Cindy knows… because she was somebody’s baby who grew up in an environment of rules and regulations without relationships – one setting, of many, which she believes leads to rebellion.
Her personal desire for unconditional love led her down streets lined with drugs, alcohol, strip clubs, abortion clinics and many years of profound misery until she finally came down one day from a crystal meth high to find herself near death.
She recalls being terribly paranoid and delusional at that point in her life, but somehow she made her way to a man who had formerly worked at a strip club. She’d heard that he had recently become a Christian. When she sought him out and pleaded for help, he simply asked, “Do you want to change?”
“Yes,” she said.
“Then this is how you do it,” he told her, “you simply ask Jesus to come into your heart and help you.”
She did, and He did, and thus began her journey hand in hand with the ultimate professional Redeemer!
As I listened to Cindy I was reminded of the word “power” which comes from the Greek word “dunamis” (I believe it is the word from which we also get the word dynamite).
Dunamis means miraculous power and usually implies a miracle. Here are just a few of the places this word is used in the New Testament:
- Romans: 1: 4, 16, 20
- Romans 9: 17
- I Corinthians 1: 18, 24
- I Corinthians 2: 4
- I Corinthians 5: 4
- I Corinthians 15: 24, 43
- Ephesians 1: 19
- Ephesians 3: 7, 20
- II Thessalonians 1:11
That is the kind of power you witness at work when you are in Cindy’s presence. She is a redeemed miracle. Recently, after she told her story on The 700 Club, 678 people phoned in to ask how to receive Christ into their hearts.
They wanted to be changed the way Cindy had been changed. When you hear Cindy speak, she makes you know you are redeemable, too!
There are none among us who do not long for unconditional love. Both sexes, all races, all ages - we desperately want to be loved. Sadly, like Cindy, many of us will do just about anything and go almost anywhere in search of that love.
It has been a while since I have told my readers there is only one source for that love.
Today, I tell you once more that Jesus is IT. He is The Way, The Truth, The Life, The Healer and yes, the one and only Redeemer.
All other sources that we may turn to eventually will fail us. Our thirst will not be quenched. Our hunger will not be satisfied. Seeds may be sown, cultivated, watered and band aids may be applied by well meaning, caring people who cross our paths from time to time, but ultimately it comes down to a one-on-one with Jesus.
The opportunity to hear Cindy allowed me to gain confirmation about something I have struggled with in recent days. In my efforts to take my workshops into federally funded organizations, and into the public workplace, I have to try hard to keep Jesus out of them. If I do mention Him, I have to talk about other religions, too.
No more will I seek to dilute the power of Jesus Christ. I no longer want to dance around the true needs of my audience. I will never shove Jesus at anybody. Neither will I refrain from telling how He has redeemed me, and daily quenches my thirst and satisfies my hunger.
For more information about Cindy’s work, check out VictoriasFriends.com. You might also want to visit wellspringliving.org or just check in with me at maryjaneholt.com.
MARY JANE HOLT column for week of 9-4-08 - Sarah Palin
It has been less than two weeks since her name became a household word. I told my husband two months ago that she was the only chance for a Republican going back into the White house. Then, the night before McCain picked her as his running mate, I told Daniel once more that we could forget about McCain going in if he did not choose Palin, who was not even on his known short list.
Daniel said, “Tell me again who Palin is.”
I had read about her a few months back, and felt like she could be an amazing breath of fresh air in
I am a Republican because I feel that control of money, resources, behavior - just about everything - should be handled at the lowest level possible: individual first, then family, larger social circles, then civil authority at the lowest level of government, and finally, as a last resort, we go to Washington for budget control or any kind of intervention!
Congress is presently suffering from its lowest public approval ratings ever.
Americans are fed up with their money being spent on things we do not want to spend it on!
I have a VERY short list of things on which I want my tax dollars spent; but, for now, let me get back to Sarah Palin and specifically to the door she is opening for Mike Morrell’s daughter and my granddaughter.
Quite simply, I do not believe there are many intelligent women in this country who have not fantasized about what they would do with that budget in
Give me a disciplined, even a military minded person any day! One who knows how horrible conflict can be and how much more horrific things can become if we are not willing to take a stand and fight if need be. One who knows the value of good communication. One who knows how to get things done efficiently.
Since it looks like I will never see Colin Powell in the White House, I will settle for McCain and Palin. Palin, who could be eligible to run for the Oval Office herself within four to eight years, may actually be better than Powell. Time will tell.
Powell said he does not want to seek that office because he does not want to put his family through the campaign! Well, Sarah did not back down. Neither did her family.
There was table talk at their house before she accepted McCain’s invitation. I am guessing that bunch of kids and hunk of a hubby just hugged her and said, “Go for it, Mom!”
She did not enter this race blindly. I suspect her private thoughts, if she has any regarding the media, are: “Bring it on!”
As I recall, one of the first things the media threw across the airwaves and onto the printed page was that Palin is not prepared to represent
Well…, give me “REAL” any day over the most educated, well-traveled person alive when it comes to representing me on foreign soil or home turf. Give me character. Courage. Compassion. Give me a flexible manager. And honesty. Oops! I know such a word probably should not be used in any discussion about politics.
Character, courage, compassion, flexibility and, yes, honesty, are important to me, as they are to many conscientious men and women. As we all ponder hard issues just now, and I wonder if I will live to see my granddaughter or yours run for office… I want to share my all time favorite quote from Ralph Waldo Emerson:
“Speak what you think now in hard words and tomorrow speak what tomorrow thinks in hard words again, though it contradict every thing you said today. ‘Ah, so you shall be sure to be misunderstood.’ Is it so bad then to be misunderstood? Pythagoras was misunderstood, and Socrates, and Jesus, and Luther, and Copernicus, and Galileo, and Newton, and every pure and wise spirit that ever took flesh. To be great is to be misunderstood.”
Wise women innately know that we will be wiser tomorrow than we are today and we know how to be flexible and change our mind if we must. Pride does not so readily cripple us. Men, even the smartest, do not always embrace our kind of flexibility.
MARY JANE HOLT column for August 14, 2008 - Milt Thomas & Relationships
Wow, did I ever enjoy meeting and hearing Milt Thomas, the guest speaker at the Fayette County monthly Business to Business Luncheon on August 13! I felt good after hearing him speak and I’ve wanted to feel good lately.
Thomas is a former marketing communications executive with Home Depot and The Coca-Cola Company. Today, he is founder and CEO of QuuM, a consulting firm that “offers a strategically robust complement of services that combine to offer a highly distinctive value proposition.”
Big words, huh? Trust me, the guy measures up. So how did he impress me?
At first, he pointed out that GE, Walt Disney, Hewlett Packard, Microsoft and Home Depot are all companies that were launched during a recession or depression.
Tell me that did not thrill Todd White who started Resolve Pest Control in
You gotta love that kind of entrepreneurship especially in an era when small business literally is saving the
Then Thomas delighted us as he repeatedly drove home the importance of building relationships with clients.
Listening, I recalled anew why I like to shop at
At one point, Thomas reminded us that Russell Athletics actually invented the sweatshirt and specialized in athletic wear. Then Nike came along, with an amazing marketing slogan that immediately established a relationship with consumers who wanted to be and do more than they had been and done in the past. "Just Do It" inspired hope, excitement, a future... and huge sales!
My healthcare background makes me know there is nothing more important that health providers can do for their patients than to strive to develop strong and mutually respectful relationships.
Why? Because, one, it’s the preservation of one’s health, or even one’s very life that the consumer entrusts to the physician, clinic or hospital staff. And two, in the end - literally in the end - when death is approaching, it is ALL about relationships.
Beyond our actual physical demise we also experience the deaths of various identities from time to time. Illness, injury, the death of a loved one, divorce, getting fired from a job, choosing or being forced to go from one career into another – all these life events, to some degree, represent the death of a past identity.
With that in mind, I really loved it when Thomas talked about how his daddy used to tell folks that “opportunity is like a bald-headed man with a beard; if you’re going to grab him, it must be done when he faces you, because, once he passes, there is little to hang onto.”
Then there was the encouragement once shared with Thomas’ mentor, Bernie Marcus, Home Depot Founder, who once faced his own life-defining moments. As he stared into the abyss now filled with his Big Box creation, Home Depot, newly fired from a company that he ran, he was told, “you just got kicked in the ass with a golden horseshoe.”
If you are going through a down time now, look closely at the color of that horseshoe. You might want to welcome your own kick!
Many of you know that I teach (and sometimes get downright preachy about it) that the worst thing that ever happens to you has the potential to be the best thing if you do not let it get the best of you.
So please embrace the challenges of this present recession as well as any other personal life trials you may be experiencing. Choose to be thankful for the lessons that can more effectively be learned at such times and resolve to recognize unexpected opportunities as they are made available to you.
And remember, when absolutely everything else seems to be beyond your control, your attitude is not.
Oh, and if you ever have the opportunity to hear Milt Thomas speak, take it. He will strengthen you for those inevitable down times that we all experience.
MARY JANE HOLT Column for August 5, 2008 - The Shack
With the turning of each page we become more and more convinced that God is absolutely unlimited when it comes to making known His presence, His love and His amazing grace.
The Shack by William P. Young is a remarkable reminder of the innumerable and oh, so glorious aspects of God, as it provides new revelations regarding His ability and willingness to manifest Himself anyway, anyhow, anywhere for the sake of His creation.
This book also deals with judging and forgiving better than any single biblical passage or story that I can recall. So, let me warn you: if you are bitter, angry and hurting and want to stay that way for a while, then The Shack is not for you. Not yet…
You see, I am becoming more and more convinced that all things truly DO work together for our good.
I am learning that each and every action, each set of circumstances, each unique experience must work out within our souls the purpose/s for which it was sent.
Now I know the Bible quite plainly tells us that all things work together for good to those who love God and are called according to His purpose. We have discussed that many times in the past. But, folks, if you try to tell me you do not wonder… do not doubt… do not question… well, chances are I might not believe much of anything else you might say to me either.
When horrible tragedies come upon us, we all have our struggles. Unimagined questions sneak out of the corners of our minds and hearts and oft times travel to our lips.
We ask “Why?” “How?” We cry out, “If only…” We agonize over our personal mistakes and losses. We grieve and oh, my, do we ever question!
Then along comes something like The Shack!
With no more than 400 spent on marketing the author and his publishing partner woke up a year or so after publication to more than 700,000 copies sold! Word of mouth now has more than a million copies in circulation and it’s available on audio, as well.
So, where did this little surprise bestseller come from? Why is everybody talking about it?
It's like this: when you set out for The Shack, you set out to meet God.
I was ill prepared for the trip! Shock overtook me when God told Mack that He (God!) is hurt because some folks seem to like Jesus more than Him! I squirmed as I read wondering silently if Jesus knows I have always liked God more than Him…
Then the Holy Spirit moved in like a gentle breeze to soothe away my uncomfortable wonderings. “Just read…” she whispered. And so I read from the pages that were never meant to be anything more than a Christmas gift for six children.
Young’s wife, Kim, had encouraged him to “just try to put in one place how you think, ‘cause it’s kind of out of the box.”
What a magnanimous understatement. Throughout this little novel, there are no walls, no boundaries, no theological discussions that stand in the way of good cathartic storytelling.
The book came from the heart of man who’d known much anguish over the fifty years he has said it took him to write The Shack, though it only took months to record the words. His novel taught me much about forgiving others. It drove home more vividly than anything I ever have read the dangers of judging others. But more than anything, my first visit to The Shack taught me tons about the importance of me forgiving me.
I have told you before that I tend to have far more regrets over things I do not do, than over things I do.
Such regret can become very heavy guilt and guilt can make you weak and unproductive, even physically ill. And false guilt… well, false guilt is the worst kind!
So if you’ve been there, or if you are there now, go to The Shack. One reader asked the author how to go there. His answer: “You don’t usually go there happy and skipping and leaping for joy. It’s a process. Find a shoulder to lean on; then become one.”
To hear William Young talk, one becomes very much aware that the writing of The Shack set him free. Free to be. Free to become.
The reading of it can do the same for you and me.
MARY JANE HOLT column for week of 3-17-08 - Mentally-Not-At-Ease
I had been invited to The
One by one, as Mrs. Carter spoke during the luncheon, she recognized many highly degreed and accomplished professionals from all over the world. As she called their names, they were asked to stand for applause.
Then she described this woman who, through the printed word in daily newspapers, just talked about depression and mental illness very naturally, like across a table over coffee. She spoke of how such an effort was so vitally important in our culture and how our combined efforts to openly discuss mental illness will do much to erase the stigma of disease. Nobody stood after she called that woman’s name until a gentleman at my table pointed to my name tag and said, “Hey, that’s you. Stand up.”
Still, to this day I am amazed when I think that what I do makes a difference. Yet, I know that what you and I do together makes all the difference in the world.
So let’s review how we can help others cope with mental illness?
First, let’s define it. Mental illness is often defined as any psychiatric disorder that causes untypical behavior. Well, that could apply to just about anybody at one time or another!
Then there are the so called synonyms for mental illness that are too often used: insanity, lunacy, psychosis. My way of defining it is simply "mental dis-ease" which means mentally-not-at-ease.
Now, do you see why I have a problem with any kind of stigma being attached to mental illness? It’s as common as the common cold, perhaps more so. None of us will make it through life without being mentally ill at ease at one time or another.
That said, there certainly are different degrees of mental illness and sometimes the severity of the problem requires more than open discussions of problems followed by consistent and genuine I’m-there-for-you hugs. In my workshops I teach that:
Any one of us is only a breath away from having our self-confidence shaken. Personal and professional identities and the income that go with them can be gone in an instant.
Loved ones, with or without warning, can be taken from us. Physical illness, injury, mental anguish, emotional trauma and spiritual battles abound. Sudden or chronic abuse of any kind can send us spiraling and can bring us to the brink…
From the brink of depression and despair we must choose to reach up and out, ask the questions we must ask, seek the help we might need, then find… and take peace and take joy and take a reason to go on living and loving, and caring for and about self and others.
There is not only a connectedness between us and our fellowman, but there is a connectedness between everything that happens to us as individuals.
LIFE is one continuing educational experience! To deny any one part of who we are, to “forget it”, to refuse to acknowledge it and remember it as part of our unique life experience and to be afraid to go back at will and glean anything we choose to uncover and claim, distorts the value of the whole being that we are and robs us of our potential for being more!
Do not let that happen!
I say: Own it! Do not be afraid to hold dear to yourself all that is you, even that which is hard to own: the loss, the sadness, the ugliness, the pain, the anguish, the misery which wears a thousand faces. OWN IT.
Just accept the painful “its” of your life as part of the wholeness that is yours to claim in a world where you are always growing and becoming. Claim it all and choose to make something beautiful of it!
You have that power! You have the power to make a difference by reaching out to others. No subject should be off limits when you care. No matter should be beyond discussing. No diagnosis or label should be permitted to stigmatize you or those you care about.
Know that I believe with all my heart in simple, honest empowering communication with everyone around you. But please know, too, that severe, untreated mental uneasiness - somewhat like untreated pneumonia following a common cold or even a systemic staph infection following a skinned knee - can lead to death.
The deeply disturbed can become both homicidal and suicidal. Open chats with well meaning, caring friends are not always enough; sometimes professional counselors may be needed to help you, or someone you love, get through a period of mental uneasiness.
MARY JANE HOLT column for week of 1-28-08 - Greg Gadson
“Just call me Greg,” he said. And so I will.
Greg is an amazing man, an inspiration. I cannot recall the last time another human being has inspired me like this.
I just “officially” met Greg this week on the phone. During our conversation, I begged to know more about him. I asked about his parents, his background, his roots, his life, and how he came to be the man he is today.
Greg told me that his parents, who have been married 42 years, are where it all started. Then there were coaches and teachers in school who influenced him. “But you never stop growing,” he said, “it is an ongoing process.”
I listened long as Greg talked… I listened hard, and with my heart. I shed a tear. You see, Greg is my hero, today. But more than that, he is a light, a beacon, an encourager to thousands of others.
It may have started with his parents, but it really picked up speed the day that the
This is just a little of the background that prepared him for his service in
He is also a Christian. He said he believes in God and in the consequences of sin. Thus, the second thought he had on May 7, 2007, when the IED hit his convoy, was “What have I done? How have I sinned to bring this on myself?”
Greg said he knows Christ died for his sins. So he gave Him the sin/s he pondered on. Then he gave Him the guilt, too – the guilt over those sins that tried to wear him down during those early days of pain when questions like “Why me?” were unavoidable.
It was, perhaps, the first thought he had, however, after the IED hit, that allowed Greg to deal so successfully and positively with everything that has happened since.
He said his first thought was to forgive. He loves the Iraqi people. “They are wonderful!” he exclaimed to me. So he resolved immediately to hold no malice toward the bomber who deprived him of both legs. In those very first moments and hours, he resolved to “forgive and move forward.”
Yet, moving forward was not without pain and grief. Following the bombing, he found himself repeatedly looking in the mirror, and asking, “Is this me?”
Clearly, he grieved over the loss of his legs, but never was there a loss of spirit and faith and courage and dedication to God, family and country.
It was this amazing resilience and awe inspiring character that prompted one of the coaches for the NY Giants to ask him to speak to the team prior to their Sept. 23 game. After hearing Greg, a performance streak began which has culminated in their competing against the Patriots in the 2008 Super Bowl.
Thus, Greg became the new “inspirational coach” for the NY Giants. He will be at the Super Bowl, on the sidelines -- on the sidelines, and in the hearts of the players on that field.
Those players, the NY
During Greg’s early months of healing he knew that he wanted no part of being defined as “an amputee.” He compared his feelings about that to the same feelings that prompted him to never wear his
On Sunday, Feb. 3, 2008, when you are watching the Super Bowl, know that Lt. Col. Greg Gadson, with the Second Battalion and 32nd Field Artillery, the man, the soldier, the hero... is there, too, on the sidelines, pulling for heroes all over the world who perform well for God and country.
Thanks, Greg, for reminding us all of the importance of good attitudes and great performance in all areas of our lives.
MARY JANE HOLT column for week of 12/10/07 - The Air Show
Connecting with nature makes it easy for me to ponder deeply. This morning, I was thinking of the John Denver lyrics: “Some days are diamonds some days are stones,” and wondering why he did not write, “Some days are diamonds some days are coal.”
I was thinking intensely about a lot of things as I headed for my favorite window in my living room. I eagerly meld into whatever moment embraces me when I stand there to gaze.
Today, my eyes immediately were drawn to the burnished brown leaves on the saw tooth oaks lining the curved driveway that divides the field on the left, where Daniel plants food for the wildlife, from the acre or so on the right of what I call straw grass.
I relish the blackberries from the bushes that are intermittently scattered around this spot in the spring. I love the cover that the mix of tangled and graceful growth affords the turkeys and rabbits and squirrels and so many other critters year round.
At times, nature’s splendor almost takes my breath away, like when I see a red tailed hawk swoop swiftly down and grab a live and squirming meal from this little field.
I don’t really know what the grass is; I just call it straw grass. This time of year it looks like what my Grandmother used to make yard brooms when I was a little girl. Every now and then, I actually feel like I become one with this magical spot.
I suppose that’s what was happening this morning as I stared out the window thinking about diamonds and coal.
Suddenly, the sun, which was already peeping up over the back of the house, descended with one massive brush stroke across the farthest edge of the straw grass with definition that the most gifted and skilled artist would envy!
Try hard to picture this with me… on both sides of the driveway, planted on a diagonal, are two small patches of young pines. From my window it feels like this evergreen growth is always reaching out to hug me. If I am driving up the lane to my house I feel like the long needled verdant growth is a curtain opening to welcome me back home. Today, these pine greens simply frame and accent the golden tones of autumn perfectly.
So I am staring out at this amazing little bit of earth when suddenly the birds appeared -- all kinds of birds! They flew in from the left, from woods I cannot see from my window, and congregated in a small natural area in front of and a little to the right as I stare out at the straw grass patch. There, a tall lopsided oak tree, a couple of ragged cedars, a few black locust trees and several small granite outcroppings welcomed the birds.
In this setting with the brilliance of the morning sun starting to highlight the jewel toned colors of the ever evolving fall landscape, those birds took to their morning stage and put on one of the most amazing performances of nature that I ever have witnessed.
With amazingly harmonious precision these birds of all shapes and sizes and colors flew up and down and left and right and on an angle. They darted, dashed and fluttered. They became one with the remaining leaves that still sparkle on the big oak tree.
They swooshed in and out of the cedars. They posed gracefully in the naked locust trees and proudly danced around on the rocks. Every few seconds, they would take to the air as if part of some miraculously choreographed flying trapeze act.
And, never, not once… did one bird collide with another. Nor did they fight over the crowded air space. It was the air show to beat all air shows and so… I decided to wait until another day to think about diamonds and coal… and about yesterday’s poignant and prayerful interaction with Shane in the morning and Carrie in the evening… both of whom may be well on their way to becoming priceless diamonds in Love’s special chest of treasured and perfect jewels.
I whispered a reluctant prayer of thanks for the grinding pressure and intense pain that helps to mold each of us into what we are always and forever becoming. And, for a moment, I knew I was one, not just with the creation, but with the Creator...
MARY JANE HOLT Column for 10-22-07 – Gifted Authors
I had a delightful conversation this morning with James Sheehan. He is the first attorney-turned-author I have met since John Grisham that I really like! A solid depth of soul is just as evident in this fellow. Amazing!
“The Mayor of Lexington Avenue,” by Sheehan, was just released in paperback by
Sometimes, I meet people and I want to read them a while before I read that they write or even hear what they say. I always have been that way about politicians. I am increasingly becoming more like that in reference to actors and musicians, as well. Oh, and I once thought I could learn to separate the art from the artist. Imagine that!
It’s like a story from “Mountain Trailways for Youth,” by Mrs. Charles Cowman, which I read nearly 40 years ago. She told of a sailor who approached a weary missionary at the end of a very tiring day to tell him about a man on one of the islands of the Inland Sea, near Japan, who very much wanted to meet the missionary.
To the request that he travel to meet the man, the missionary responded, “I am dreadfully tired; could you please take a bible to him for me?”
To that, the sailor responded, “No, teacher, it is not time to take that man a bible… that man is reading you yet a while.”
I love that story!
I suppose that reading people is my favorite pastime. The same weekend I met Jim Sheehan, I also met four fascinating women: Darnell Arnoult, author of “Sufficient Grace”; Lynn York author of “The Sweet Life”; Pamela Duncan author of “The Big Beautiful”; and Virginia Boyd, author of “One Fell Sweep”! Check out these ladies at www.onewritinggroup.com.
These close friends are quite the quartet of female writing talent! In fact, it was Darnell’s title of her recent novel, “Sufficient Grace” that actually prompted me to attend the convention. Long story there… I will just say I am glad we talked several times by phone prior to the convention where I finally met her.
It could be that sufficient grace and my decision to attend that convention may have saved my writing career. I had been so close to actually destroying several projects, giving up writing my column, and not writing anything anymore.
I find that so hard to believe today, but that’s where I was before Wanda Jewell, Executive Director of the Southern Independent Booksellers
Oh, she did not know she did that; that’s the beauty of it all. We just never know who God will use, or when, or how… to show us there really is “sufficient grace.”
The pen that had been therapy for me all my life had become a burdensome shovel that was exposing more pain than I could bear to dig up. I think I knew that God and everybody close to me would still love me if I never wrote another word; yet, in the end, I knew I would not still love me.
So I write once more for joy and with tremendous gratitude that my life permits me to know so many wonderful people!
In the midst of our conversation this morning, Jim Sheehan said something to me that I will not soon forget. His words were, “Don’t you think that the message of Christ is that pain and suffering help you see the world more clearly?”
Well, no… I did not ever really think that, but I am thinking about it now. I am so extraordinarily intrigued by honest questions. I would welcome a thousand great heart- and mind-provoking questions to any far too quick answer concerning all the perceived inequities of this world.
Yes, I have been tempted, over the past year, to lay down my pen and just enjoy my family and this wonderful rural wildlife haven in which I am so blessed to live… but I could never stop reading people and writing about them!
As one character, an itinerant preacher, in “Sufficient Grace” put it: "Sometimes miracles go by the name coincidence. Sometimes they go by the name accident. Sometimes they go by the names unexpected, longshot, curveball, miscalculation."
Thank you, Darnell and Wanda and Jim and Consuelo Valdez for the miraculous exclamation points you have so recently placed in my life!
MARY JANE HOLT Column for 10-1-07 – SIBA 2007
I just spent four wonderful days at a Southeast Independent Booksellers Alliance (SIBA) trade show rubbing shoulders with, dining with, and conversing with some of the most talented and famous authors in the world! And I will, in coming weeks, be making a few suggestions about good reading materials and holiday gifts, just as I often have done through the years.
However, there are a few other subjects and people I must tell you about today. First, I want it to be known that the staff at the
It was in this setting that I met Ensa Manneh, from
The key to his enthusiasm appeared to come from the fact that he does not come from a free democracy. His heart aches for his people back home. He wants them to be free like I am, and like you are, and like he is - while he is in
Then there was Ann Carlson a bookseller from The Book Stall in Aiken and
That conversation finally led me to the question I often want to ask folks (but seldom do) “How many times have you reinvented yourself?”
Her answer was, “Oh, at least ten.” She clearly was the successfully maturing adult so many of us aspire to be. The one who knows when it is time to move on and can be comfortable with change - can even celebrate it!
At this point, I would be so amiss if I did not tell you about Nikki, too. She works with Judy Mathys at Family Book Shop in Deland Fl. Several years back, she kept going in and out of the book store using the fax machine there to send out her resume. Finally, Judy hired her to be a bookseller! Why? Not because her resume said she was qualified. Simply because she exuded enthusiasm!
Does Nikki have any regrets? None. She has been rewarded in innumerable ways for opting to climb out of the box, veer off the path she thought was right for her and try something new and exciting that turned out to be perfect for her, her boss, and countless customers who adore that same sweet, spunky spirit that drew me to her!
And now, I must tell you about Eric Svenson, with Harper Collins Publishers. I save him for last because he made me cry. Let me preface this story with the fact that Eric is an amazing professional. Booksellers love him! My personal interaction with him over the years tells me he is the consummate professional and that he is darn good at what he does.
So what happened?
On Sunday morning, as I stepped off the escalator not far from his trade show exhibit, I overheard him on the phone talking very softly and saying, “I miss you too, buddy - I do - are y’all getting ready for church - what’s mommy doing?”
Tears welled up. Big time. I suddenly whispered a prayer for all the dads and moms, throughout the world, who are away from families who miss them not just on Sunday, but on many other days of the week, as well.
Change is good. Mobility often is a must. New identities come and go. Life evolves, and, like it or not, this very global society in which earth’s inhabitants now live is redefining many aspects of our various cultures, including the dynamics of family life. But…, just for a brief, prayerful moment on Sunday morning, October 1, 2007, I did not like it one bit.
MARY JANE HOLT Column for 4-2-07 – Thank You
Agnes recently sent me a copy of “36 Christian Waysto Reduce Stress.” Number 26 was “Remember that the shortest bridge between despair and hope is often a good ‘Thank you, Jesus.’" (author unknown)
I have traveled back and forth on this bridge all my life. Many times I have stopped and stood still right smack dab in the middle of it. I even have lingered on the spot for days on end.
Such a spot has never been crowded. Since I do not like crowds I have been quite comfortable. From such a position one can gain a phenomenal and empowering perspective.
It is so hard to say “thank you” no matter what. I invite you to know with me, however, that it is very rewarding to do so.
More times than I care to recount I have been left with prayers that consisted of nothing more than “Thank you, God.”
One would think such prayers would come because I feel so blessed, excited, or overwhelmed with happiness that I am just at a loss for words.
On the contrary, in the midst of the happy, exciting, celebratory times I find it easy to tell God how much I appreciate things. In fact, I can be very longwinded in my expression of gratitude for His work in my life and the lives of others.
It is when I am broken, hurting, devastated or even burning with fury that I am obliged to bite my tongue, and whisper a quiet, but constant “Thank you.”
I could not do this for many years. I arrogantly ranted and raved at God for the sadness and pain and disgusting behavior I so self-righteously observed. I wanted to scream at Him to do something about it.
In fact, during one period of my life, after ranting for a while in just such a lazy, demanding manner, I finally was reduced to tears of repentance. I eventually changed my attitude, but for a long time, my prayer remained the same. “Please do something, God! Send somebody to make a difference. To make things better.”
In fact, I wrote a poem about 20 years ago based on such a prayer. That poem, shown below, in part, became the inspiration for many things I do and have done, including an empowerment workshop I now teach entitled, “You Are Somebody and I am, too!”
i do not know any better
than to just go barging in
to peoples’ lives
when they’re hurting
‘cause i’ve been there
and i’ve wondered
if somebody cared
so when i care
i try to show it
or
how will they know it?
oh, sure!
i know there’s always prayer
and i could just pray
that God would meet the need
and heed the cry
of each aching heart
and do His part
to make it all better
and i could ask Him
to send somebody
to feed, clothe, comfort,
encourage…
but then there was that time
i asked Him
to do just that for them
and He said to me
“you are SOMEBODY”
Recently I said a little more than “Thank you” while praying together with my son about the political climate in the county in which I live. The next morning, he gently chided me and said, “Mom, I did not want to correct your wording when you were praying last night, when you called your little corner of the world “insignificant.” I knew you were thinking about the whole world and the grand scheme of things, because I know how you think. But you need to know that your little corner of our world is not insignificant. Neither are you. Remember, God cares about every individual and He is at work in every situation.”
So you see, I still forget. Therefore, today, I am reminding you and me that we are somebody! We matter! We can make a difference!
And, you know what? Very near the top of my list of thank yous are my two sons, who still, at age 36 and 38, remain by best friends. It is perhaps my close relationship with my sons, and their friends, and their friends’ friends... (in their teen years!) that first began to teach me the importance of saying thanks when I was at a loss for words and wisdom regarding how to pray!
I am glad now that “Thank you, God, no matter what,” brings added peace to my heart every time.
MARY JANE HOLT Column for 2-19-07 – A Child Shall Lead
Yesterday, my eight year old granddaughter, Elise, asked, “Grandma, do you think when a person dies that their spirit comes back again in the next person that is born?”
I did not have an immediate answer. I do not know with absolute certainty that any answer I might give her would be appropriate for whatever her young mind presently seeks to know. I do know I was far more interested in the question she asked than in any answer I could offer.
You see, I grew up with too many far too quick “answers.” Those answers turned me away from God, not towards God.
Not until I met Maxine (in my early 30’s) and she welcomed, even embraced, my questions and doubts, did I truly seek to know God. Her sincere, honest acceptance of me eventually led me to want to embrace God and be embraced by God.
So, when somebody, anybody, especially a child, asks me a hard question – a real question -- an honest question -- I know I am about to walk where even angels fear to tread when I attempt to answer.
When I consider the importance of questions and answers I often recall this passage from Matthew 22:37-39:
“A lawyer asked, ‘Teacher, which is the great commandment in the Law?’
“Jesus answered, ‘You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your mind. This is the great and foremost commandment. The second is like it, you shall love your neighbor as yourself.’”
I was a young child when I first read this exchange between Jesus Christ and the inquisitive lawyer of his day. My concept of the teacher’s response to the lawyer has evolved over time, and, in recent years, I have come to place a great deal of emphasis on two seldom highlighted words that the teacher used in answering the curious lawyer’s question: “as yourself.”
These two thought provoking words that intrigue me were not part of the answer to the actual question. They were part of an “add on.” Jesus was great at “add ons!” He always gave more than was requested of Him.
Regarding religion and faith, I have done and continue to do much soul or spirit searching. As early as my high school years I started reading about all the major religions. I grew up under Baptist influence, but I had to look beyond.
I have come to believe that there is something lacking in any faith that does not permit or even encourage its followers to “look beyond.” I mean, who would want to own or claim or profess a faith that is so fragile that seeking knowledge or truth about other beliefs would shatter the faith one professes?
Faith in self, faith in others, faith in tomorrow, faith in God, faith in something… is necessary if we are to make it through the trying times in our lives.
Shakepeare wrote “This above all: to thine ownself be true, and it must follow, as the night the day, thou canst not then be false to any man.” Well said, dear William!
As we interact with others throughout life we must be true to ourselves if the other person is to truly benefit from knowing us. Individuality is not only important; it is absolutely necessary unless we want to be nothing more than a mirror in which others see themselves.
So, I answered my granddaughter’s question with a question that set off hours of discussion. During that discussion I told her about Jesus and a little bit about what He means to me.
Sometimes I feel an urgency to share specific “to the point” kinds of things with people. When I feel that urgency I share whatever measure of Truth I am capable of sharing at that given moment. More often than not, however, I know that we all journey together: you and my granddaughter and me. We will teach one another through the years. This I know.
I recall so vividly four years ago how, while sitting in my lap on my front porch, one Sunday afternoon, this same young one said, “Grandma did you know that Jesus is God and Jesus is God’s Son and so God is God’s own self’s son?”
Now, do you see why I pause long, hard, and quite prayerfully before I feebly attempt to answer one of her questions? Indeed, sometimes a little child does “truly” lead.
MARY JANE HOLT Column for 9-14-06 – The Interview
I suppose it will forever be the interview that was not. Oh, I went through the motions. I had my questions all typed up. Neat. Concise. I had pad and pen in hand. I was as prepared as I like to be.
I had briefly perused the website for the
I often find that what others think I need to know often gets in the way of what I really need to know.
The truth is I prefer to know as little as possible about a person before I meet that person -- any person and especially one I want to “interview.”
A professional resume or CV informs me to a very limited extent. Published papers may be well worth reading on several levels, but they do not always define how much I will or will not value the author’s knowledge and the wisdom with which he or she uses such knowledge. Polished and positive peer reviews may mean much to some, but they have come to mean less and less to me over the years.
It would appear at times to our limited vision that ever-growing knowledge eventually passes away. It may seem that it becomes outdated and no longer useful. After graduating from nursing school I often thought of pursuing more formal education and considered trying to obtain several other degrees.
I opted instead to watch watermelons grow and the biggest tomatoes I ever saw. I chose to hug my kids a lot. To host many, many, many family gatherings. To have back porch singin’s. And to survive.
Eventually I chose to “go to the woods” in search of new ways to assist with my survival. I first longed to know and understand Thoreau and Emerson in the days of my youth. I may finally be starting to do just that, finally beginning, in this serene setting I now call home, to come to terms with many things.
What a strange phrase: “come to terms.” Why do we think we must do that? How do words like acceptance and closure become such obsessions? There’s a new buzz word in personal growth circles that I like better. It’s “intention.” I try to live intentionally.
I used to call it “being there.” That was the term I used for years. My sister, Lynda, talks about the importance of “being fully present” in any personal or professional exchange with another human being.
Making out a list of my questions in preparation for my interview with Dr. John Kim probably was a waste of my time, for in the end, and in the beginning, as well, Dr. Kim just served me tea. Dragonwell tea. He served it traditionally. He served it intentionally. He served it well.
The sharing of the tea permitted a far greater exchange than a question and answer session ever has or ever could. The too brief ceremony (only about 40 minutes) told me more than I ever had hoped to learn about Y. John Kim, MD at a first meeting.
You see, I was in the presence of a healer.
How do I know this? Quite simply and ever so deliberately, while “intentionally” serving me tea, he answered all my unasked questions.
Oh, and later he gave me a copy of his resume, which was, of course, quite impressive by any medical scholar’s standards. Before I looked at it though I knew Dr. Kim could not and cannot be everyman’s physician. He can and will serve only those who want to be well…
MARY JANE HOLT Column for 7-24-06 – A Lazy Man’s Answer
What I am certain of varies from day to day. Clearly, the one and only constant is the struggle.
Recently, I was asked yet again: “Why do bad things happen to good people?”
What does “bad” mean? With our limited human insight, are we qualified to define the word?
A five foot mirror falls from the wall and crushes a three year old boy in a large department store.
This is a “bad” happening when you consider only the present moment. The present day. The present lifetime, perhaps.
Is this present moment, as I peck away at my keyboard, a spark of time separate unto itself, or is it somehow connected to every other past, present and future moment in time? Is my life, or your life, a separate life unto itself? Are we untouched by the universe? Untouched by a God who chooses to call Himself simply: “I AM”?
Are we not influenced by those we love and hate? Those who intrigue or bore us? Encourage or challenge us?
I finally read the book (actually heard the CD format) “Five People You Meet in Heaven.” Cindy Foley had recommended it months ago.
This past Friday morning, when my sister, in
None of us, absolutely not a single one of us goes our way alone. Daily our lives intersect with countless others. Perhaps our thought waves intersect as well. All that we have been, are, and are becoming, coincides continually on countless levels with innumerable life forms.
“Five People You Meet in Heaven” (the book on CD as read by the author) comes closer to explaining such a concept than anything I have heard or read in a very long time. (However, the movie version did not hold my attention at all.)
You see, as I said earlier, what I am certain of varies from day to day; and clearly, the one and only constant seems to be the struggle.
Why do bad things happen to good people? It is a question that is not made easier by narrow-minded, though perhaps well-intentioned, people who survive trying times, escape unharmed from freak accidents, and live through horrific illnesses to say “God blessed me… so I lived.”
Clearly such a statement too often implies that God did not bless the ones who did not survive.
What is a blessing? What is our purpose or purposes for this present existence? Why are we here? Now… today… in this present moment? Why do we exist?
I do not, cannot, and seriously doubt that I ever will believe that eternal and hard questions can be explained away by a simple phrase like “it was God’s will.”
I believe that we are responsible for the choices we make. For the results of our actions or inaction. For being informed and willing to act wisely and courageously.
I simply refuse to look around me at pain and loss and war and countless agonies that wear a thousand disguises and say “it is God’s will.” That is a lazy man’s answer.
I ask that you recall the biblical story of the man who was blind from his birth. When Jesus was asked, “Who did sin, this man, or his parents, that he was born blind?” the answer was: “Neither hath this man sinned, nor his parents: but that the works of God should be made manifest in him.”
And then Jesus said: “I must work the works of Him that sent me, while it is day: the night cometh, when no man can work.”
I submit that I work, you work, we work… along with God (the universal “I AM”).
It would be wise to consider that the time may come when no one of us can continue to work. Until such a time when we awake to realize that what is, just is… (it is what WE have made it), until then… the only constant remains the struggle, a struggle that is lined with success and failure, joy and sorrow, laughter and tears, health and illness, life and death.
I do not deny that “I AM” works in and through us. Clearly, however, we are not puppets. Our choices matter! Our work ethics matter! Our “end” results matter!
MARY JANE HOLT Column for 6-19-06 - Family Time
It is family time again! Big time, special family time! I have mentioned frequently over the years how my extended family stands together. Very extended. Very much together.
The birthings. The dyings. The weddings. The funerals. Oh, and did I ever mention the surgeries? Especially the heart surgeries! When a surgeon is about to go near the heart of any member of our clan we REALLY band together!
This banding together has taught me much over the years. So, since another heart surgery is about to go down I thought I would request prayer for the doctor. I am not worried about my baby brother. He will do fine if the good doctor can just hold it together considering the masses that will be keeping a vigil in the waiting room while my brother undergoes his surgery.
Poor guy. He has no idea how many folks he will have to answer to tomorrow. Yep, this doc is most deserving of our prayers!
I think one of the things I enjoy most about these gatherings is the humor. I will not deny, however, that I love the tears, too! No doubt about it. I feed on a great variety of emotions. And God knows there has been a string of them over the past two weeks. Ever since we found out
It is now the day before the big event and the family is coming in from all directions. They are traveling even now as I type.
I will go down tomorrow just for the day. To be there. To await
He also swore me to “patient confidentiality” regarding this plan. I neglected to inform him I was his big sister, not his healthcare provider!
Darrel has already arrived. He and Debra and Wayne and Agnes are visiting in between baths.
So, I’m just sitting here minding my own business (yeah, right!) on this day before the big event when my phone rings, and Aunt June wants to know if I know what time Darrell is coming and if he will be at her house in time for dinner tonight.
Don’t know, but they - countless numbers of relatives (and friends) - all know I know how to find out. So I do a conference call and obtain that information for her.
Then I tell Aunt June once more how very special SHE is. As I tell her this again (I try to tell her often!) she tears up.
You can wonder if the sun and moon will rise and set, but never doubt the emotion and passion and loyalty that rules in a family like ours.
In embarrassed response to this praise, she told me about the cow.
The last of the eleven, she made her earthly debut at just over three pounds and with a fierce allergy to her mother’s breast milk. The rash was so horrific that my grandmother made a special feather pillow upon which to lay her infant daughter. That was the only way they could move her without aggravating the rash terribly.
At 14 or so, Howard, who was five years older than my mother, had cow milking duty. In a family of 13, everybody had a duty! So when breast milk did not work for Aunt June they tried cow milk. Howard was quite disheartened when his fresh milk could not nourish his tiny sister. He therefore set out to find goat milk. That didn’t work either.
Thus Howard put the word out in the community about the plight of his family and the fragile health of my Aunt June. That word spread and in a matter of days, a farmer from 12 miles away, contacted them and told them he had a cow with really special milk.
He said he would bring her over, let them try her milk and if it worked they could keep the cow. It worked. They kept the special cow with the special milk for the special baby.
And so… Aunt June lives! At 67, she remains fragile in many ways, but never, absolutely never has there been a stronger, sweeter, better caretaker. It is a distinct and easily recognized gift. The acutely ill, the chronically sick, even the dying… know there is an angelic presence which accompanies my Aunt June when she walks into a room.
I am glad she will be at the hospital with us tomorrow along with two or three dozen other family members. I repeat, please keep that good doctor in your prayers. Some things are just really hard for some hearts to take!
MARY JANE HOLT Column for 6-5-06 - The RIGHT Thing
This business of doing the right thing in the right way at the right time for the right reasons is a 24 hour job. Round the clock. Day in and day out. If you are going to do life “right” there is no taking a break from that fact.
I invite you to ask yourself what it means, in your life, to “do the right thing in the right way at the right time for the right reasons.”
I warn you, however, your life will change forever the day you sincerely begin to ask yourself point blank questions like:
• What is the right thing?
• What is the right way?
• What is the right time?
• What are the right reasons?
When “do the right thing in the right way at the right time for the right reasons” becomes your motto, not only will life change forever, but your new creed will affect everybody and everything around you!
There is no way around that fact. As my dear friend Jackie always said, “it is what it is.”
So, what is the right thing?
For me today, the right thing was to regretfully turn down a job that was recently offered to me. For three days, it seemed like the perfect job until, finally, this morning, it got put to the “right” test.
You see, the “right” test makes you realize that good things, even really good things… can often stand in the way of better things, or even the best thing.
It is easy to choose between good and bad, or right and wrong, as long as we can clearly distinguish between the two. It gets harder, however, to choose between good and better, or better and the best. Oh, does that ever become hard!
I know good, smart, seemingly wise people who just act. They make decisions and move forward no matter what. They make commitments and stand by them. Come hell or high water they stand solid. They tell me they do not have time for dissecting every thought and option and considering every single potential aspect of any thing or any situation.
Just for ONE day in my life I would like to be like these people and have the luxury of not having to consider the big picture and all distinguishable ramifications that accompany that big picture.
Many times in the past I have tried to be just (and just to be) what the moment calls for. Now, don’t get me wrong, I believe in “living the moment!” Living it fully. Completely. In all its agony and pain, or all its glory and ecstasy. I suspect I will go to my grave holding to that desire.
HOWEVER, “doing the right thing in the right way at the right time for the right reasons” repeatedly impacts my “live the moment” philosophy.
Such a creed will impact your life too. It will touch your thought processes. Your dreams and fantasies and aspirations will not escape influence. Your relationships will be shaped by this motto. Your professional life and job performance will be touched – big time!
Not everybody is strong enough to adhere to a “right” way of living. Many times I have failed. Yet, I grow stronger with each failure. Clearly, I grow more and more enlightened through my successes and my failures.
I do not especially enjoy all of
There is no end to the countless ways that verse can be discussed and that entire chapter and book interpreted. This I know!
I promise you though, if you resolve to try to “do the right thing in the right way at the right time for the right reasons” that verse and many other life truths will take on new meaning for you.
Sometimes, you have to discover up close and personal what’s wrong before you can choose what’s right. Sometimes, you must encounter darkness before you can appreciate light.
I like choosing to live in the light as much as possible. I like having peace in my heart. I like being able to look into the mirrors of life that offer a reflection of my scarred soul and know that the reflection I see is one I can live with, day in and day out… as I seek to do what is “right.”
MARY JANE HOLT Column for 4-4-06 -
I was at the
For weeks, I had planned the “perfect talk.” Now, you guys now I am not a humorist, but every now and then I slip up and inspire a giggle or two. Well, my planned talk for that night was riddled with inspirations for giggling. I was proud!
I was very much looking forward to giving that little talk. To enjoying the laughter and maybe a few tears… I like it when emotions are comfortably expressed.
So there I had been, for several weeks, prior to this particular engagement, very comfortable in what I was planning to talk about. Then on Sunday before the Saturday night event, my husband asked about my subject.
Suddenly, my tongue would not move. When it finally did work after several hesitant seconds, I said, “I do not know.”
He said, “Didn’t you say this event was NEXT Saturday night, as in six days from now?”
“Right”
“And you do not know what you are going to talk about?”
“Correct.”
Suddenly, words like survivor and failure and a whole slew of very serious words invaded my consciousness.
For the next couple of days I wrestled. By Thursday night, I FINALLY was on my knees. And then the thoughts began to pour in. I got out of my bed around 11 PM and wrote well into the wee hours of the morning. When I was finished all I could say was, “You have got to be kidding!”
In all the years I have said that (repeatedly) to what I perceive to be the Holy Spirit, I have never once heard that still small Voice say, “Yeah, I was kidding.” Not once.
And so with less than 48 hours before I would be so warmly welcomed at the lovely church nestled on a charming hillside in the little down of Epworth, I had to try to familiarize myself with a new “talk” that had practically no humor in it.
Nevertheless, for the most part, except for occasionally saying/asking: “You have got to be kidding?!” I do not argue with the voice. I have learned to obey.
Ruth was yet another confirmation as to why I am wise to listen to that voice.
She was in my audience that lovely spring night. The men of the church had cooked a fabulous dinner and served the ladies as though they were serving community and family royalty, as well they were. And then I spoke.
There was little or no humor. I spoke of failure and labeling and victimization and success and happiness and peace… in spite of, or even because of, such things. There were numerous references in my talk about the terms “diagnosis” and “prognosis.” I noticed many similarities to a talk I have given to “survivors” in the past.
It was not a talk that I thought was appropriate for the setting. But Ruth did.
Ruth had lost her mom and husband to cancer. When they first were diagnosed they had agreed to fight back with every option the doctors offered: radiation, chemotherapy, diet, etc. They lived four years following their diagnoses.
June 1 will mark five years ago since Ruth was diagnosed with breast cancer. The diagnosis came just prior to her 80th birthday. After two weeks of prayer and meditation she opted NOT to accept any kind of medical treatment.
Loved ones gave her a grand 80th birthday following her decision, knowing she did not have long to live. She asked, in lieu of gifts, that everyone bring her a joke for the joke book she wanted to put together.
Laughter, the good medicine according to Old King Solomon would be her therapy. That and prayer! Her prayers. The prayers of family. The prayers of friends. She would laugh. She would pray. She would live!
And so she lives… Come June 1, she will have lived longer than her loved ones who agreed to all the conventional medical therapies.
Ruth enjoyed my talk. So did the woman traveling through town who had just gone though a painful divorce and was feeling like a failure as she started her life all over again. So did the foster care mom who told me about Mercy Ministries in Nashville, TN and that I should take my “You Are Somebody and I am, too” Empowerment Workshop to the young women there. So did the mother whose son had died a short while back. So did I…, as all their words and hugs assured me that once again He had not been kidding.