Tag Archives: love

A gift that keeps on giving.

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This can be a challenging season for many. Though it is intended to be a celebration of anticipation, affirmation and arrival, ones focus might happen to remain fixed on regrets, sorrow and loneliness.

A desperately needed gift for some may be well within one’s reach. Something that cannot be left at the front door or scanned into some account. It can be returned, but not as you would expect. And yet, it is celebratory in form. Given through presence.

“It is an absolute human certainty that no one can know his own beauty or perceive a sense of his own worth until it has been reflected back to him in the mirror of another loving, caring human being.”
― John Joseph Powell

It could occur in passing in a store, in a line at the counter. A party with neighbors or coworkers to enjoin in the festivities of the season. A chance meeting of an old friend in a parking lot or local coffee shop. Those that are forlornly seeking a mere glimpse of their inherent beauty and worth, can come to find it in your face, expression and genuine warmth you exude.

A mirror has no sense of itself other than what it sees. And as we are not things, we do have a sense of ourselves in some measure. But being a mirror is not about how you feel. It is about reflecting another’s compassion and truth. Their worth and love. Entities that can somehow become hidden by self created and imposed filters. Shame. Rejection.

Your presence in those instances reveals to them images that cannot hide from reality. Things about themselves they need to witness.

So in anticipte and celebrate their arrival into your life, if but for only a moment. Affirm their true worth and singular beauty as a fellow human. Trumpet the good they will come to know in the time to come.

Reflecting what you truly see in them, brings out the best in you.

And they will then yearn to do the same for another.

A gift that keeps on giving.

But theirs.

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Daily writing prompt
Tell us about your first day at something — school, work, as a parent, etc.
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Since I am involved in coaching, whether it be Special Olympics, job development for those with diverse abilities or good old football, I would have to say the first day of a season or the first meeting with a new associate is the best day. Days that really aren’t ever one and done. But moments that build and transition into other first days.

A first practice allows you to witness the work they have embraced in the off-season, weightroom, classroom, community and home. You get to see what they are beoming, the yearning to take those next steps to become something more for the team. Whether it is a scout, one that comes off the bench, or a leader that never comes off the field. As a coach, you get to help guide them along a path of their choosing. It is you that can help them see something bigger than themselves and then realize that vision.

Then if you remain connected, you can watch them do the same in college and their initial foray into the business world, whether employee or entrepeneur.

A first meeting to discuss job development is in many ways the same. You can learn of the progress they have made in their life despite their challenges. Whether they are at home, or gaining independence within a group community, you can see their excitement to learn, grow and become something more than they ever have been before.

Perhaps they start in the back of a business, learning the ropes. Maybe that gives them all the contentment and growth they need. Others may want to work there way up and out to the front. Filling in for teammates that are out or have elected to move on. Maybe they see themselves becoming the one that opens the door and turns on the lights each day.

It is coaching that takes place on other venues. It is still all about guiding them along a path of their choosing. But if you can see something bigger in themselves than they realize, you get to share that vision with them, and help them to grow into it.

It can be difficult to remember or recall all of the firsts I had throughout my life. But there is truly something to be said to be a part in those of others. For that reason, I am blessed to be able to participate in so many “firsts”.

Not so much mine.

But theirs.

Only if you sing your song.

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Daily writing prompt
Have you ever performed on stage or given a speech?
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Well, my stage career began and ended with Mr. Tantillo’s 7th & 8th grade Barbershop Music classes at the Hinsdale Junior High School, about 1972 or 3 BC. I had the fortune of singing lead in a quartet that travelled as far as Milwaukee, to share “My Wild Irish Rose” when our turn came up during the program.

Heading out on that proverbial limb, I think it was Russ that sang bass, Mike that was our baritone, and the tenor’s name? Escapes me for now. But when I remember it at 1:43 AM, I will add it in. We usually concluded our concerts with “Good-bye My Coney Island Baby”. Upon retirement when I graduated from junior high, my singing moments were reserved for “Rosalita” in college and are now preserved in the friendly confines of my car with my friends at WXRT or the Drive.

However, since then, I have also been blessed with opportunities to create some of my own melodies in public speaking around the community. My involvement in football as a player and now a coach has afforded me chances to speak to players whether on the field at practice or at other events, share my thoughts with the staff, players and families at weekly high school team dinners and teach coaching concepts at football clinics around the state.

I also became a guest lecturer at a near by college and through my involvement as a mentor for the local Boy Scout troops, provide the earned accolades for soaring as an Eagle at their court of honor. Of late, I have had the chance to share a daily devotional with my new team and explore the spiritual essence of other readings with another close coaching friend of mine.

These daily prompts are such a treasure. They reveal things to me I just did not even consider.

Singing was scary to start. Being out in front of many with three others carrying a tune. But now that I look back, it was a sorely needed source of joy for a young man that pretty much kept to himself. Since some arbitrary test I took in grade school disqualified me from learning an instrument, having the opportunity to just sing was a Godsend. A way to express a passion I had for music. Apart from laying on the living room floor next to the RCA console, reading liner notes and playing records at “11”. Not sure what led me to neglect that path once I went into highschool. Maybe it was football that took front and center.

So the melody I have been able to share in public speaking shares the same source of passion. To articulate feelings, sensations and hopes through words. Not telling anyone what to do or how to do it. But moreso what is to be gained if you surrender yourself to that undertaking without regret. The memories it will create within those moments and for the rest of your life. How fulfilling just leaving it all out there, regardless of the outcome, can be. And is.

And when you can connect with another or others within a sea of faces and lives, you just know it.

The eye contact. The body language. The expression. You sense their presence in your melody. And within you. A feeling of connection and intimacy that just escapes description.

Exactly why you just need to leave it all out there, surrender and dismiss the possibility of regret.

How fulfilling that can and always will be.

Only if you sing your song.

“Meno.”

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I have found great joy in reading the gospel each morning in three different versions, emailed to me overnight. Each provides one with some key insights to ponder for the day to come and really gets those creative juices flowing. As you can probably tell. Presenting me with words I was kind of aware of, thought I understood, but really did not know from Adam.

Sorry. Helps sustain my humerous daddus affliction. But I digress…

This morning in the first reading  of 1 Maccabees 2:15-29, there was a retelling of the enforcement of a king’s apostasy and Mattathias’ reaction.

Akin to the mother and her seven sons and how they chose the after life in lieu of an affirmation of not only a false prophet but false view of life.

I went back to “apostasy” and discovered the origins, the Greek word “apostasia” meaning “defection, rebellion or abandonment”. Recalling my fondness for Etymology class with Mr. Paris in high school back in the 70’s, I went a little deeper. Who knew today would start with some archeology.

“Apostasia” is formed from a prefix “apo” meaning “away from” and the verb “histemi” meaning “to stand”. “Thus, the literal meaning is to stand away from”. 

Since this was first written long, long ago it has taken on a variety of meanings each of which are related to discarding ones faith. At this moment of of my personal reclamation project, however, I prefer to apply it from its original, literal meaning.

“To stand away from”.

My apostasia involves standing away from the ill conceived habits and thoughts that took me away from my true self. Beholding the notion that I had all of the answers and that I could do everything for everybody. Equipped with the double edged sword that is ego, I wounded humility for the sake of pride. All of which simply made me an island, surrounded by an ocean that ebbed with low self esteem and flowed with no forgiveness.

But as I have increasingly sacrificed the tenets of a choices poorly made and a life ill lived, a true fellowship beckons. One that called to the mother and seven sons. One that touched Mattathias and the multitudes of those that have followed. Removing me from a self-designed poverty and enriching me with an altogether serene and peaceful wholeness.

You may not realize it at first, but when you simply let go and stand away from what you were, you can genuinely become what you are meant to be.

My “apostasia” began with moving away from being alone as self-induced outcast. It has since evolved into allowing Him in and truly living.

“Meno”.

With him.

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Today’s reflection shared a story of a mother and her seven sons from the book of 2 Maccabees 7:1, 20-31. They were being tormented, tortured and murdered by Antiochus, one by one, one in front of the other, because they would not give themselves up to what he said they needed to be. Despite his vain offers of false glory, prestige, standing and power, to a person they deferred and accepted their end on earth so that they may live on in eternity.

I don’t think it is so much that I am looking for new meanings in things I hear or read. After spending much of my life headed in my direction, because I wanted to, of course because I am right and the rest of you can deal with it, let’s just say that my commanding, know it all inner Antiochus voice now has some truly loving company. Offering a more compelling way of living out my days.

When you hear things in that tone and tenor, it is like taking a deep breath, taking a step back, removing the “life vision goggles” and experiencing the moment as it truly is.

Wonderful.

That is, wonder-full.

The voice of Antiochus that had ruled my way of being and was intent on doing so for the rest of it has faded into the noise of the background. Another, that had been patiently waiting in the wings has resonated in my soul and spirit, in a symphony of love and understanding. It is that voice I now hear. One that has overcome the cacophony of selfishness, ego and self-righteousness.

So you can never really know when something totally life changing will occur. The latest one for me was today at about 7:29 AM, in the kitchen, watching the sun come up. With any luck, maybe there will be a return engagement later this morning, afternoon or tonight when the stars come out.

The Antiochus’ in your life may seem to be all powerful. But they consist of the things you really need not possess to fully live.

Tell him “no thank you”.

Embrace His voice.

Move towards life.

With Him.