Category: Personal Growth

  • Ten Minute Talks with Tom

    Ten Minute Talks with Tom

    My friend stunned me the day she offered to make a memory quilt out of Steve’s shirts. Her kindness opened up a friendship between the quilter and the “widow on the hill.” Over three years later Marlene gave me another gift as you’ll see in the video below. The source of a person’s compassion is never an easy story because compassion is born in hearts who have needed kindness themselves.

    The Treasure: Praise be to God … the Father of compassion and  the God of all comfort, who comforts us in all our troubles, so that we can comfort those in any trouble with the comfort we ourselves receive from God. (2 Corinthians 1:3-4)

    If you’d rather read than watch the video, here’s the full video transcript:

    No fire in the fireplace today! Temperatures reach 104 degrees. That’s too hot for this New England girl. But I want to tell you about – remembering my friend Marlene who called to say her husband Tom would be driving me to all of my PT sessions until I could drive myself. Physical therapy – there was going to be a lot of it. Post-surgery inflammation and pre-session narcotics made driving dangerous for me. So three days a week Tom would walk from their home to mine, scale my steep driveway with his bi-lingual book on democracy, and off we’d go.

    Tom thought his driving me to PT was no big deal because, after all, I had so many friends. He was sure someone would volunteer. He thought he was doing what anyone could do. But in reality, Tom took something that to me was actually lonely, painful, and scary … and he made it steady. No phone calls or juggling of schedules. All I had to do was get in the car. He was to me the visible comfort of God. I came to realize that each ten-minute ride to physical therapy was more than a ride; it was a gift of safe presence and thoughtful conversation. I did not expect such treasure on a 2.7-mile drive. And although many of our talks were interrupted upon arrival, we picked up where we left off on the 2.7-mile return trip home.

    I did the math today. Tom drove me to and from forty appointments! That equals eighty ten-minute talks … or eight hundred minutes, which totals over thirteen hours.

     At a recent dinner party I wistfully told some widow friends that my ten-minute talks with Tom were about to end since I no longer needed pain pills. One leaned in with a simple solution: “Don’t tell him!” Laughter reminded me that friendships don’t need to end. Sometimes they just need to take on new dimensions.

    So, next week I get to have Tom and Marlene at my table for a meal and we’ll get to have more than a ten-minute talk.

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  • Accordion Jig Time

    Accordion Jig Time

    I fell in love when I was eight years old … with the accordion. My parents suggested I choose a band instrument like the clarinet that they could rent for $25 dollars each year. But no other instrument could compare with my love for the accordion. The year I turned eleven, the squeezable love of my life came wrapped under the Christmas tree. It was a baby-blue kid-sized instrument with only twelve bass buttons. I was eleven years old. My mother drove me thirty minutes from the country to the city for my music lesson every Monday.

    Wally Piascik, my Polish accordion teacher was bigger than life. I can still picture Wally leaning out of the second story studio window, holding a cigar and calling to some friend on the street. He was serious about entertaining and played in a dance band on the ocean boardwalk. Back in those days I was terrified to play in public. But that didn’t matter to Wally. Whenever I performed, he made me memorize the piece, face the audience, and play standing up.  

    When my mother died decades later, I bought my first new Italian-made accordion in memory of her steady sacrifice. Maybe you can hear its rich musette tuning as I play an Irish Jig called the Eavesdropper in the video below. Wally’s gone now too, but I have the cherished gift of music, and a mom who poured more joy into my kid heart than I realized at the time. I love playing in a local folk band and in the praise band at the chapel where I worship. What I would have missed if my parents made me learn to play clarinet instead of investing in the joy of my heart! J

    The Treasure: Accordion wisdom: push less, pull more.

    If you’d rather read than watch the video, here’s the full video transcript:

    Hi! It occurs to me that my blogs can be a bit serious sometimes, so I decided to post a fun blog this time. Because after all, life is not always about the “teardrop.” It’s also about joy and fun. So, I’m going to play an Irish Jig for you—a fun song. I hope you like it.

    Be sure to put some fun in your day today!

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  • A Time to Heal

    A Time to Heal

    The surgeon told me, “Knee replacement surgery is an investment in your future.” So, I smiled and signed on the line. But I did not prepare for how the follow-up pain would scare me. I said to my physical therapist, “Please talk to me about pain and fear.” And this is the wisdom he gave: We fear physical pain because we associate it with damage or danger. That’s bad pain. Agreed. But the pain of physical therapy is not about damage or danger. It’s about deliverance—about removing the old that causes us to limp and replacing with new that empowers us to thrive. This good pain still hurts, but it is achieving something better. So, in physical therapy I find a focal point and breathe as the therapist takes my leg to an “impossible” bend.

    Likewise, we need a spiritual focal point when the troubles of life unsettle us. We breathe our requests to God. We allow doubt to drive us to find deeper answers for our faith. And we take heart that suffering is achieving something of eternal value that we would otherwise miss and may never see in this life.

    The Treasure:
    Therefore we do not lost heart. Though outwardly we are wasting away, yet inwardly we are being renewed day by day. For our light and momentary troubles are achieving four us an eternal glory that far outweighs them all. So we fix our eyes not on what is seen, but on what is unseen, since what is seen is temporary and what is unseen is eternal.
    (2 Corinthians 4:16-18 NIV)

    If you’d rather read than watch the video, here’s the full video transcript:

    It’s been said that there’s a time for every purpose under heaven—a time for war, a time for peace, a time to be born, a time to die. In my own words, a time to go forth and have fun, and a time to stay home and heal. This is a time of recovery for me, a time of waiting for healing from total knee replacement surgery. I’ve been rather impatient, wondering if I will ever get full range of motions. The professionals say, “No worries. Just keep doing your exercises. Keep doing what you’re supposed to do.” This morning I’ve been thinking: What if this time of waiting is not just about the knee? What if it’s about listening … to God, listening to friends. What if it’s about rest. What if it’s about asking God for next steps, a time of personal inventory. If this is a time of waiting for you, I pray that you will have a gentle day and that God will give you peace.

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  • Bull’s-Eye

    Bull’s-Eye

    I ponder the power of seasons, months, or even the rustic smell of outdoors to spark strong memories. My husband Steve has increasingly entered my thoughts in recent days. It’s no wonder. Four years ago this week we drove to Vermont to pick up our teardrop camper for retirement adventures. It was a “bull’s-eye plan” formed during high elevation moments like when we looked out from the Rockies onto a future we thought was certain. Today the plan looks much different than we thought. Steve is in heaven and I’m traveling in the camper—without him.

    Actually, remembering Steve breathes life into me today. He’s still the “bull’s-eye” soulmate whose influence I carry in my heart—a gift of having been loved well. I remember the day Steve told me that this life is the only opportunity we have to trust God. As I continue to fight doubt and fear with hope and confidence, I can count on this: life will shake me to the core, but I can trust that God’s plan is a good plan with a future full of hope. Many of you have been the evidence of that hope to me.

    I believe living a “bull’s-eye” life is one with Jesus at the center of my being and all other facets of life finding their place within the surrounding rings. I’d love to hear your definition. In the three-second video below Steve and I had a “bulls-eye” moment that surprised both of us!

    The Treasure: “I know the plans I have for you,” declares the LORD, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.” (Jeremiah 29:11)

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  • Rock and a Hard Place

    Rock and a Hard Place

    I arrived for knee replacement surgery as if I were sliding into second base during a winning ball game. For years I had been having water drained off my knee, getting steroid shots, and wearing protective wraps in order to walk a rugged trail or ski an easy slope. But it became a no brainer—my knee was shot. Hearing it would be the most intrusive surgery and painful recovery I distracted myself with life as normal including bike rides and even speaking out of town the day before. Waking up (literally) to reality after surgery, I sometimes lost sight of the good this surgery is working for me. Pain can do that. It dulled my spirit even as I received abundant care. So I began to practice a morning and evening exercise that is renewing my spirit. I open my eyes to the day and remind myself of what God’s love for me means. And as I close my eyes at night, I recount how He has been faithful to me during the day. As I complete week four post-surgery, I sense I am turning a corner, coming alive, and getting closer to walking out my door and down the hill with a new knee that will open up pain-free opportunities. 

    The Treasure: It is good to give thanks to the LORD … to declare your steadfast love in the morning, and your faithfulness by night. (Psalm 92:1-2, ESV)

    If you’d rather read than watch the video, here’s the full video transcript:

    Have you ever been in a rocky spot and you didn’t know if you were ever going to get out? Rocky places can be dangerous. We can get stuck there, we can become distressed … and despondent. But in every rocky place there are lessons to be learned. I think most of my lessons have been learned when I have been between a rock and a hard place. But beyond the rocks you can see down there a trail going out from the rocks that’s heading up over into more beautiful places. So we make meaning in the rocky places and walk out of them with our hand in God’s. Putting our hand into the hand of God is the way to live life to the full. We learn to trust him and to be on a sacred adventure with him when life seems to make no sense, because He makes sense out of the places in our lives that we feel are a waste. It’s a wonderful thing to know that we are not destined to stay in rocky places, but that we can come to new vistas. That’s my prayer for myself, and honestly, my prayer for you too.

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  • Lasting As Snow

    Lasting As Snow

    In the small New England town I grew up in, winters brought an abundance of snow. I loved digging out an igloo from piles of snow left at the end of our driveway left by snowplows or packing snow for a sledding trail on the hills of our neighborhood. But this year, an international snow sculpting competition in Breckinridge, Colorado, took snow art to a stunning level. Each sculpting team worked with a 25-ton block of pressed snow that measured 12’x12’x15’ high. Teams worked for 92 continuous hours to complete the one-week display, not only for global recognition, but also to maximize ideal snow conditions in the cold climate of Breckinridge Ski Resort. The faces of many who lingered to watch and vote were full of wonder and joy. Snow takes on many forms—snow for skiing, snow for sledding, snow for sculpting (like the corn cob above sculpted by India), snow for watching … and the metaphor of snow that represents how God’s love and purpose is directed to our lives as delivered by His word (see video).

    The Treasure: As the rain and the snow come down from heaven, and do not return to it without watering the earth and making it bud and flourish …so is my word that goes out from my mouth. It will not return to me empty but will accomplish what I desire and achieve the purpose for which I sent it. (Isaiah 55:10-11 NIV)

    If you’d rather read than watch the video, here’s the full video transcript:

    Snow travelled in a one-way direction from heaven to earth and settled here along the Arkansas River in Buena Vista, Colorado. Like snow, God’s Word travels in a one-way direction too and settles in our hearts causing us to flourish. It’s alive and has power to accomplish His purpose to transform us so rivers of life can flow from us. That sounds like real abundance to me.

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  • Inverted Mountain

    Inverted Mountain

    Even a steep descent to the lowest place can transform the trajectory of our lives when we take the difficult journey with God. The premise of my book entitled Rediscover the Dance is that valleys of weeping yield tears that can become replenishing springs and a catalyst for post-traumatic growth (Psalm 84:5-6). In Chapter 9 entitled “Valley Momentum” we explore how putting Three Rs into action can keep us from getting stuck in valleys of weeping.

    1. Relinquish self-dependence for God dependence
    2. Remember God’s words
    3. Rely on God for outcome.

    Riding a gondola over the steepest part of a mountain in Colorado reminded me to thank God on the joyful heights and to trust Him in the scary chasms.

    The Treasure: When life feels impossible we may think, It’s over, But God says, We’ve only just begun.1

    1. Dawn Linton, Rediscover the Dance (Koehler Books, 2025), 138

    If you’d rather read than watch the video, here’s the full video transcript:

    I’m on one of the ski slopes at Beaver Creek in Colorado. The interesting thing about this mountain is that some people call it an inverted mountain which means the easier slopes (called green slopes) are at the top and the most difficult slopes are at the bottom. So, those of us who are more cautious skiers like myself take a gondola halfway up the mountain over the difficult slopes. Then we ski over to another chair lift and take that chair lift out of sight over to the top of the mountain which is about nine thousand feet. And so, we ski around on the top half of the mountain as long as we want to – just up and down the most beautiful and gentle green slopes. Then we get back on the gondola and come back into the valley over the difficult parts. As in life, it’s a lot easier to be at a higher elevation emotionally, spiritually, physically and to just be able to really enjoy the ease of life. Thank God we have ways to come down and tools for us to be in the valley as well. But thankfully today I don’t have to ski down a black diamond slope to get to the bottom where I head home in just a little while.

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  • Lift Up Your Eyes

    Lift Up Your Eyes

    Laughter of children sparked by chipmunks made me smile. I had hardly noticed the four-legged critters, as a vast expanse filled my heart with wonder (see video). Creation is like that—a kaleidoscope of beauty that changes with each turn, and with abundant interest for every age.

    The Treasure: Let the power of God in creation take our breath away, open us up to receive His generosity, and remind us to set our hope in Him.

    If you’d rather read than watch the video, here’s the full video transcript:

    I’m at 9600 feet on the Beartooth Highway in Montana. I’m in this beautiful spot overlooking incredible mountains and valleys. But the children up here don’t even see the mountains. Do you know why? They are looking right down here at these little holes where the chipmunks come out. The chipmunks come out and they get up and they scurry along, and they’re just watching the chipmunks, so excited. But they’re missing the beautiful view.

    Well, reality is, I have chipmunks in my life too—things like pride, worry, and performance that scurry around and pull my attention away from what’s important. These critters narrow my vision to the amazing scope of God’s power and the grand scale of what He is doing. But the writer of Psalm 121 invites us to lift our eyes to the hills and let creation remind us that our help comes from God who made all of it. How stunning to know our Creator never slumbers as He watches over us.

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  • Do It Different

    Do It Different

    I didn’t expect to feel the downward spiral of sorrow in the days following Christmas this year. Even knowing the reason for my downcast soul didn’t help. I couldn’t fix it, and I just couldn’t shake it. I knew if Steve were still alive that his compassion and wisdom would lift much of my burden. If you relate, let me tell you what I did to stop the downward spiral.

    I did everything I didn’t want to do. I slogged through bike rides, joined friends for a walk or a meal, and connected (sort of) with God through reading Scripture. I said “yes” (with a dull spirit) to every invitation. I prayed … and waited. The result? More loss of sleep and lethargy. Until … those strategies began to put a spring in my step. I first noticed my sorrow had lifted as I filled my gas tank at Wawa yesterday. Mundane? Not so much! My perspective is still shifting upward with gratitude and with intentionality to keep my hand God’s. (See video and meet me on the Rimrocks in Montana.)

    The Treasure: I am the Lord your God who takes hold of your right hand, and says to you, “Do not fear; I will help you.” (Isaiah 41:13 NIV)

    If you’d rather read than watch the video, here’s the full video transcript:

    Well hey there! Hello again from Montana. Today I’m up on the Rimrocks; it’s a beautiful spot overlooking the city of Billings. I just want to pipe in because I’m going home tomorrow and I want to share one last thought with you: Sometimes when we need to muster up courage to move beyond fear and loss in order to find a new sweet spot, it means that we need to do familiar things in a different way. So there are trails all around up here. Sometimes they’re hard to see, but the difference is sometimes we’ve walked a trail with our hand in someone hand that we love. And finding a new sweet spot beyond the fence can mean, instead of holding our friend’s hand, or our companion’s hand or our lover’s hand that we take the hand of God (we talked about that last time) and walk with Him. And I have experienced that in beautiful ways these two weeks. I’ve been to beautiful places, but instead of being with the person I love, I’ve been with God who loves me, and unexpected surprises of beauty and relationships and conversations with family. So I encourage you to take risk and do familiar things in different ways so that you don’t get stuck. I’m with you; I don’t want to get stuck either, so we can do this together. So long for now.

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  • Strategic Withdrawal

    Strategic Withdrawal

    In her book, Invitation to Retreat, Ruth Haley Barton defines retreat as a “strategic withdrawal” from whatever is not working in our lives—to “gain perspective and set new strategies.”1 Last week I drove my Jeep in search of “someplace quiet” and pulled off at the sign to a monastery pictured above. A sign on the door welcomed “dear friends who wish to enter in silence.” So, I considered myself to be a “dear friend”, and sat in the solitude of that place for over an hour. For decades I have found solitary places for reflection at the end of each calendar year. There, I gain perspective by remembering God’s faithfulness in the past, and I seek new strategies for wholehearted living in the future. Don’t be misled. I am not ultra spiritual. That’s why I need times of reorientation. The value of “retreat” is this: there is an unseen battle for our allegiance where the busyness of life, culture, and expectations of others (and self) make for weary travelling. But in times of strategic withdrawal we remember that taking God’s hand at the gate of the year is better than light and safer than a known way. This is beautifully written in a poem by Minnie Louise Haskins (see video clip).

    1 Ruth Haley Barton, Invitation to Retreat (Intervarsity Press, 2018), 11.

      The Treasure: “In all your ways acknowledge Him, and He shall direct your paths.” (Proverbs 3:6, NKJV)

      If you’d rather read than watch the video, here’s the full video transcript:

      Greetings from Montana. I certainly have left Pilgrim, the camper, back in Virginia in that locked in paddock but I’ve gone beyond the fence and I’m actually way off the beaten path today hiking a trail south of Livingston, Montana. It’s beautiful here; it’s cold. There’s actually snow on the trail – and I just wanted to pipe in and remember at the beginning of the year this great saying called The Gate of the Year. It goes like this:

      And I said to the man that stood at the gate of the year, “Give me a light that I may travel safely into the unknown.” And he said, “Go out into the dark and put your hand into the hand into the hand of God. That shall be better to you than light and safer than a known way.”

      Well, when we get off the beaten path like I am today, sometimes it can be a great place of reorientation, of reflection, of seeing where the real path for our lives is going to lead. So I encourage you at the beginning of the year (with me as well); we don’t know what lies ahead but we know we have a great God who says, “You don’t need to get stuck looking back at things in the past. Learn from them … but look! Don’t you see? I’m doing a new thing. Don’t you perceive it?” So, I hope you find many new things that are wonderful and match the beauty of the Creator who created all of this. Happy New Year to you.

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