The Wednesday Pop - vol. 7 . . . It's Hammock Time

My Dad is a smart man.  I've told you that before.  He has a lot of things figured out, and it may surprise you that he is also the world's great rester.  Yes, rester.  He has an unbelievable talent with rest.

He is able to take a short nap in almost any place you could imagine!  He naps on the couch in his office.  He can nap on the ground during a picnic.  He once found a room away from the action and napped while we spent the day at my kids' school!  He's a champion rester!

He slips away from a family gathering, finds a bed, has a rest and gets involved in the conversation again, faster than you would believe.  While the rest of the folks sit around complaining about all that needs to be done or yawning lazily as the conversation lags, he takes a nap!  Oddly enough, when he arises, he's whistling a happy tune and running circles around the rest of us!

I love a good hammock - I assume everyone does - but no one has the relationship with the hammock that my father does.  He is one with any hammock he has ever met!  So, here is where I relate my unbelievable trip to Nicaragua to my Dad's love for resting . . .

In Nicaragua, there are hammocks everywhere!  Unlike our backyard hammocks, swaying alone in the breeze, these hammocks are used and used all of the time!

Are the folks in Nicaragua lazy?  Are they trying to dream away their work?  Do they not have enough to do?

Nope, that's not it.  They have plenty to do, just like my Dad.  Funny thing, though . . . they've figured out that more gets done when one is rested.  They've also figured out that a body and a mind needs rest and that sometimes just dreamily watching the waves or praying or meditating right in the middle of a day is a very good thing.

Once on my trip, I found myself in a hammock.  (Well, actually more than once I found myself in a hammock, but that's not the point here.)  I was talking with another friend on the trip, and we were discussing how odd it was to 'just rest' right in the middle of the day.  I began to think about Pop, my Dad, and something very important dawned on me . . . 

He might rest more than anyone I know, but he also gets more done than anyone I know.  What's up with that?  Apparently, my Dad and some friends in a far away land have discovered something that the rest of us busy people don't yet understand.  

It makes sense to rest in the middle of the day when a body and a mind get tired or when the sun beats down so heavily that simple movements are difficult.

Folks who rest more, do more.  It's that easy.  So, why don't I act on that?  Why don't you?  Why do we feel like we have to act busy all of the time?  Who's watching?  Why do we care?

Seems to me, I just visited with folks who understand far more than most of us.  They have cool, colorful hammocks at their houses, and they use them.

Sometimes they take to a hammock when they are tired from the morning's work.  Sometimes they get in side by side hammocks and have lazy visits, talking about whatever arises.  And sometimes, they just take a few minutes or a few hours and get away from their real world to spend a while with God or with themselves.  Sometimes they just rest.

I'm more than impressed by this talent.  I want to put into action what my Dad and my friends in Nicargaua already know.  

Resting is a good thing.  

A very good thing.  

I think we should start a trend.  What do you think?

Bird by Bird . . .

I told you last week (Friday's post) that I was having a hard time putting words to my Nicaraguan experience.  I've really been stumped!  As I've shared, I assumed that I would return from my trip and wordy descriptions would be falling from my mouth.  Normally, telling stories is not hard for me, but that hasn't been the case.

I've found myself scared to begin sharing, in fear that I won't do it all justice.  As is often the case, Tim has come to the rescue.  (He is good at starting things, and I am not.  I can usually come in and finish up, but I often need his help to bump me out of a paralysis that sets in when I need to do something.)  And so, last night he said, "Why don't you just pick one moment or one person or one memory and tell us about that.  Don't feel like you have to sum it all up at one time."  And then again this morning, he texted me from work with a "just start small - you can do it."  Ahhhh, thanks.

With Tim's nudging, I was reminded of the same tip from one of my favorite authors, Anne Lamott.  She is an eccentric nugget of humor and reality and religion, and I've enjoyed so much of what she has written.  A while back, she wrote a book called Bird by Bird, and I love the story that was the inspiration for the title.  Lamott recalls that once her brother had a big, big report due and he was way behind.  The report was due the next morning, and he was making the whole family miserable.  He was to have spent weeks and weeks researching many different types of birds, and he had done nothing.  Lamott tells about her memory of her father calmly sitting down at the kitchen table, gathering her brother and his supplies and quietly saying, "we'll just get it done . . . bird by bird."  I love that.  Baby steps.

And so, that's how I'll do it.  I'll do it bird by bird - or maybe moment by moment.

I assumed I'd start at the beginning, but that's not really how my brain works . . . and so, I'll start mid-way through the trip.  One day a group of us traveled (in the back of a Toyota truck - yeah!) a couple of hours from Padre Ramos.  Those of us visiting, along with our friends who run the youth camp where we were staying and some awesome young men who live in the village, loaded up bags of beans and rice and fresh oranges to give to the people who live in the dump.

Yes, they really live in the dump.  Apparently, their village was destroyed a few years back by a natural disaster and the 'dump' area was a gift of the government - a new place to put down roots.

I want you to meet three beautiful friends I met there.  Look into these precious eyes.  This seems a good place to start.

Their beauty, their giggles, and their universal kid-like appeal was unforgettable.  Walking through the dump, coughing from the dry dust and watching where we stepped, these three sets of eyes were captivating, almost magical.  Our fun began when they pretended to be hiding from me, using the palm branches that they were moving (chores, I guess).  We laughed and taunted and enjoyed each other for a while then, and their sweet faces will always be with me.

This morning, as I looked back over these faces, I wondered the all-familiar thing, "Why were they born to this and others born to something so much easier?  Why?"

We've all wondered the same before, and I assume we'll be wondering about it for as long as we are able to wonder.  I stared at those bright eyes and found myself imagining them in a different reality.  Just imagine with me, if you will.  Imagine the scenery is different.  Imagine their sweet faces are smudged with the sugary mess from cotton candy; not the sludgy dirt of the dump.  Imagine their chores are to make their canopy beds in their pink and purple bedrooms; not the dusty work of maintaining a home made of found trash.  Just imagine.  Look at their faces.  They look just like the ones we all know so well.  Imagine . . .

See the red spot near the back of this image?  That's just a little girl, giggling as she plays hide-n-seek with her neighborhood friends.

She could be carrying her soccer stuff in from the car after practice.

She's smiling, as she watches her best friend sneak up from next door.

 This little one?  She's just about to tell her Daddy that she made a one hundred on her spelling test.

 She just told her mother a secret about her crush at school.

 They're laughing about having their photo taken again for the yearbook!

She just finished opening the birthday presents all of her friends brought.

Guess what she just found under her pillow from the Tooth Fairy?

 They're on a really cool field trip.

She just found out she made the honor roll.

Their swim team just won the city championship!

 The class clown just cracked them up again in Math!

She's daydreaming about her family's trip to the beach this summer.

"Come on, you go first!"

"She always makes me go first!"

She just loves her choir teacher!

They always love the first day at camp.

 Her cheerleading coach always makes her smile.

 They're waiting on their grandparents to arrive for a visit.

They're always messing around at volleyball practice.

No, those things aren't really their reality.  I don't know why.  You don't know why. 

Even more, I don't know why they're smiling.  Would I smile?  Could I smile?  

That's what I'm thinking as I search the souls in these images.  I look into these twinkling eyes, and I have questions and more questions.  I do know one thing, though.  I was there, and they were giggling. They were smiling.  They were playing.  The sun sparkled in their eyes, and I saw it.  

Thanks be to God.

List 40 - A few of the things I want to tell you about Nicaragua . . .

So, friends, hopefully you have noticed that I haven’t had a post in a while.  I’ve been on another ‘trip of a lifetime’ (to Padre Ramos, Nicaragua) and returned earlier this week.  Before I left, I assumed that I would be racing back to put words to the experience; that hasn’t been the case.  Life is always a surprise, huh?

I’ve been remembering all that I saw last week, to be sure; and the faces of those sweet and gentle people have played like a movie in my head.  I just have not yet known what to do with all that I saw and experienced.  As one friend put it, I’m letting things marinate.  

I saw beautiful things and sad things and lived remarkable moments.  I shot hundreds of photos, though I fear they won’t capture what I witnessed.  So . . .  I guess I just need a bit of time to figure out what to do with the experience.  Just like editing photos, I am requiring some time and space to put things into the right light and figure out just how to tell the stories.  What do I leave in?  What do I leave out?  So, I'm thinking. 

I know some things that I want to tell you, for sure, so I believe they will be this Friday’s list.  Here are a few of the things I want to share with you about my trip to Nicaragua (in coming posts) - a bit of a ‘sneak peek’!

I want to tell you about:

1. Working with friends who have little, serving friends who have nothing.
2. Hammocks and ‘Nica’ time.
3. The colors.
4. The challenges and gifts of not carrying along my ‘real’ camera.
5. Learning that humor needs no language.
6. What I learned about trust from those who don’t ‘hold on.’
7. Why I’ve spent a good portion of this week ‘unsubscribing’ from all that I can.
8. Zip-lining and Hannah Montana helmets.
9. The magic of seeing a country from the back of a Toyota truck.
10. The ‘Bread Lady’ and the funny dollar store glasses.
11. How children who live in a dump reaching for an orange have better manners than American children in a fast food restaurant fighting over french fries.
12. That even toddlers can have a servant’s heart.
13. The benefits of being somewhere where the stars have no lights to compete with for stage time.
14. The things that make our world seem so small.
15. Folks who think nothing of a farm animal walking through their conversation.

Thanks for your patience, folks.  I look forward to sharing with you.  I thank you for your prayers, support and questions.  I loved being a traveler again and I can’t wait to tell you about it!

The Wednesday Pop - Vol. 6 . . . a thank you I wouldn't have thought I'd send!

So, I've been devoting Wednesdays to my Dad, the cool Don Murphy.  I decided it was a good idea, as I have lots to tell and learn from him about parenting.

He might be surprised by this one.  You might be, too.  Today, I have a specific thank you.

Back in the long ago late seventies and early eighties, people didn't give a lot of thought to seat belts.  Some cars didn't even have them - weird, huh?  Well, I think most cars did, but they were stuffed way down under the seat and nobody could ever find them.  And the belts didn't come from behind, over your shoulder.  They came from the depths and ickiness of the between the seat area.  Once you located the belt for your seat, it was most definitely either sized for Flat Stanley or the fat lady at the circus. They didn't work with the spring back system of today - once you found one, it might prove to be ten feet of royal blue silky belt.  It was a real pain.  Anybody remember that?

Oh, what we went through, back in the day.

But, that's not really what this post is about.  That's not the thank you.  My appreciation goes to my Dad for being a bit on the 'weird' side and forcing us to wear seat belts way before everybody else did.  It was a pain; it really was.  Though we knew he forced the issue because he loved us so very much, we were often frustrated by that extra ten seconds of effort needed to be safe.  Dad stayed the course.  I'm thankful.  He had us put on the seat belts, no matter what car we were in.  He had our friends put on seat belts when they rode with us.

The part that amazes me now - now that I'm a parent - is how hard that must have been.  I can see now that listening to us whine about the pesky seat belts must have been a pain.  It would have been so much easier to do what most everyone else was doing and just forget about the safety issue that was becoming clearer and clearer.  It would have been easier - much easier.

But that's not my Dad.  That's not how he does it, and I'm thankful.  Writing this has all sorts of things running through my brain about parenting today.  I'm wondering about the things I need to be brave about;  the yays and nays I need to concentrate on, even when it's really, really hard.

I have a great example, and I can remember it every time I put on my seat belt.  Each time I reach over and do what I have to do, I can draw on the strength I learned from my Dad and hope for the courage to be so bold myself.

Thanks, Dad.

What's the chance of this?

I'm so excited at the moment, I can barely get the words on the computer!  Something so amazing is unfolding, that I want to share it.

On Monday, I leave for a one week trip to Nicaragua.  I'm delighted to be able to do it.  It has been a long time since I've been on a trip like this, and I know how incredibly life-changing these kinds of trips  can be.  I'm ready to meet new people and I want to show folks living a completely different life that friends in another part of the world care very much about them and I want my children to remember seeing their Mama taking trips like this.

I guess my trip is called a mission, though I'm sometimes funny about that word.  I don't ever want to be part of a group that visits people in their homeland and plays the part of the 'Smart American that knows how it should be done.'  I don't like that idea.  I am more comfortable with the idea of my meeting new friends where they are, getting to know them and letting them get to know me.  I like the idea of spreading love by feeding or laughing or dancing or learning or telling stories.  I love that idea.  (We'll be working along with TOGETHER WORKS NICARAGUA.  Check them or find them on facebook.)

So, I have excitedly anticipated this trip.  I look forward to showing the love of God by meeting new people to love and laugh with; and, of course, I look forward to taking photos of the beautiful souls I'll meet.  All of that, coupled with my self-imposed challenge to leave my big camera at home and shoot only with my iphone, has been enough.

But . . . in the last few days, an amazing turn of events has occurred.  I love it!

A couple of months ago, I ran across something on the internet about an organization to empower women and children in struggling areas to tap into their creativity, gain self confidence and help their villages by learning photography.  I was immediately intrigued, but lost the webpage as I went off to tackle one of those minor emergencies that comes up from time to time in a real life - a child in need or a telephone call or some such thing.  The story stuck in my mind, though.

After I realized that I would be joining my friend on this trip to Nicaragua, I thought back and wondered about trying to find the group I had read about.  I kept it on my 'list' but continued to let other things slip in front of my investigation.  Oddly enough, my fascination with Instagram (my username is deanamg if you are fascinated, too) brought the whole thing back to me!  I happened to run across two words that struck me - picture change - and I KNEW that was the name of the organization I had read about earlier.  I was delighted.  I quickly began to investigate to find out more, and I hope you will, too!  Find it here - PICTURE CHANGE and also on facebook.  I have a feeling you'll be as swept up in the stories as I was.  Check out the blog - amazing things are happening for people in far corners of the world.  Check out the cool shop (http://picture-change.org/store/) and see the cool stuff available that is changing people's lives.  I dare you to read the stories on the blog, and not be moved by what Kate, Picture Change's founder, is up to.  Wow.

Now I'll speed up the story a bit. . .

• I find out the area where we'll be visiting.
• My friend who has been before tells me that the young woman who translates was given a computer recently.
• I find Picture Change again, and begin to read about a woman named Rosa who was a Picture Change student and is making strides in her life in Padre Ramos, Nicaragua.  
• I hear my friend call the name Rosa, and I find it a neat consequence.
• I decide to send a message over facebook to Picture Change and let them know how swept away I am with what they are doing and to let them know I'd love to do anything I could while I'm in Nicaragua.  
• Last night, I receive a message back - a wonderful, newsy note from Picture Change, explaining that Rosa where I'm going is the SAME Rosa that is a Picture Change student!  
• I get news on the supplies that Rosa needs for the computer and printer (given to her by Picture Change) and today I purchased them to take with me on the trip!
• Kate discussed ways that I could help Rosa and others while I'm there with photography lessons and how to further the cause.  

This whole thing has amazed me!  I thank God for this chance and for the ways that these things came together.  I didn't sleep much last night - I spent a lot of time imagining how exciting it is to have the chance to share something I love this much with new friends in another place in the world.  I'm thrilled, to say the least.  

So many of you have sent prayers and financial help to assist in this trip, and I thank you.  I'll appreciate good thoughts and prayers as we are gone, and I cannot wait to take you with me on this amazing trip.  

List 39 - A checklist, if you will, for my children and yours . . .

We have a problem here in the Graham home.  I'm thinking that the problem can't just pertain to my children - you must have similar troubles.

Worry not, I'm here to help.  I'd like to offer a checklist for the youth of the world to help them with future decisions.

My children are sweet and amazing and smart and all of those wonderful things.  Yours are, too.  Mine have a bit of a problem, though, when it comes to decisions about what can be thrown onto the floor and what cannot be.  I'd like to clear this thing up to alleviate the hard moments to come - those harsh moments, when this otherwise loving and calm mother turns into a zombie warrior with smoke fumes spewing from my orifices.

My family has a working understanding of big things that can't be thrown on the floor.  For instance, they all know with certainty that one cannot throw the entire debris from a fast food meal to the ground - but, if it's just the straw wrapper, they apparently make sure I'm looking the other way and accidentally let it fall to the floor.  They would never toss a juice bag below them, but I have yet to see a child of any sort who actually accurately throws away the tiny little clear wrapper to that tiny little juice bag drink.  They are magnetically attracted to the floors and yards of our homes.  Popsicles?  It's the same deal . . . the wrapper is obediently thrown in the trashcan, but the stick most definitely is silently 'forgotten' somewhere on the floor or counter or odd table.

You know what I mean, people.  I know you do.  Would our precious ones ever toss the scraps from a healthy apple or banana to the floor?  No way, but I'll tell what happens with that pesty little sticker from the skin of the fruit - it slips unseen to the floor for me to cuss over, as I try to unstick it from the kitchen floor.  What's up with that?  Uggghhhh.

And new clothes?  Ugghhh, the worst.  The more tags and stickers and strings and bands and plastics, etc., the more to remove from the floor after the child has dashed off to school, looking grand in the new duds.  For reasons I can't explain, my family is mistakenly under the belief that those teeny white plastic things, that attach the price tag, are biodegradable.  I'm relatively sure it would take about three million years for them to become part of the earth, and I know that I would be swimming among them at this point if I didn't follow along behind to fetch them.

I'm with you friends, if you suffer with these same problems.  Our children are intelligent little ones.  There must be some way to help them learn that someone actually has to pick up those wee pests or our houses would be knee deep in them by now.

Candy wrappers?  Even if no one is watching, they are still on the floor.  Someone really does have to come along, bend down and toss them into a receptacle.  Rubber bands?  Same.  The list goes on and on.

I just want to help.  I thought I'd create a little cheat sheet, a primer, for our children.  Maybe we can print this out and post it somewhere on the foreheads of all children,  That way, we won't spend quite as much time bending over and the floors of the world will be freer of this unsightly debris.  I hope this helps.

Dearest Children,
These things do not magically take themselves to the trashcan and they must actually be picked up and transported the nearest bin.  While you throw away the larger things, please remember to take those things that you 'accidentally' drop to the floor when we aren't looking.  Observing this practice will result in happier mothers and thus, happier families.  Thank you for your attention these already obvious items listed below.  

1. All tags, stickers, strings, plastic cords, etc. from anything new that your loving parents have provided for you.
2. Any labels upon the healthy choice fruits you choose. 
3. The wrappers from any straw, any size, from anywhere.
4. Well, the wrappers from absolutely anything.
5. When you have to rip the corner off of something to open it, the corner piece has to be toted to the trash, as well.
6. Rubber bands and twist ties and pieces of string.
7. Any of the tiny scraps from any art project you ever do, ie. short pieces of yarn, tiny pieces of tape, the glue globs that you rubbed off, etc.
8. Popsicle and lollipop sticks.
9. Candy wrappers - even the very small ones.  They count, too.
10. The pieces of the box tops that you accidentally tore off when you were opening the cereal.
11. You know when you help by opening the mail?  Yeah, those pieces of the top of the envelope that didn't stay connected. 
12. Anything at all.  Ha - gotcha!!! 

I fear I've forgotten something, but I hope this helps.  We must fight this war together, friends.  We must prevail.  What would you add?  What have I forgotten?

The Wednesday Pop - Vol. 5 . . . you've got to laugh

Most of you know that I'm devoting Wednesdays this year to telling stories about my Dad.  I came to the conclusion that this was a good idea when I started realizing how very much I had to say about him.  Hope you're enjoying The Wednesday Pop.  I guess I shouldn't claim to have the best Dad ever, but . . . well, I do.

I'm enjoying this regular place to recollect and give him some overdue thanks and think about ways that my parenting (and maybe yours) could be enriched by looking at how my Dad parents.  Needless to say, I've been thinking back a bunch lately, remembering old times and recalling facts from days gone by.  I keep being reminding that my Dad has always been quick to laugh, and I'm thankful for that.  He isn't a silly guy when it's time to be serious, but he has always taught us how to laugh.  Dad doesn't teach in lectures, but he shows his lessons over time by the way he lives.  As time goes by, I grow more and more thankful for every occasion to laugh - don't you?

Finding the joy in moments is such a gift, and I realize now that Dad has been showing us how to do that for years.  We did a lot of laughing as kids, and we do a lot of it now.  There were certainly plenty of serious times when laughing wasn't appropriate, but I'm thinking back about the many ways that Dad creates opportunities to laugh, both at life and at ourselves.  I'm thankful.

So, today I give you these tips on parenting from the 'how my Dad does it' playbook:

• Laugh at yourself whenever you can.  It's good for kids to see that parents goof up and it's awesome when they see us being okay with it.
• Make up a ridiculous language with nothing at all decipherable and speak it with your children often.  The crazier, the better, so go for it.  If you can also do strange things with your eyebrows, it's even better.  As you speak this malarky, your child learns about the magic of imagination and sees, too, that having fun with him or her is always more fun than just about everything else!
• Make up silly stories and crazy words and far-fetched tall tales.  It's fun,  makes everyone giggle and creates learning and trust out of fun moments.
• Take winning and losing with lightness and ease.  Laughing about doing absolutely horrible in a card game is an invaluable lesson for your child.
• Be willing to hear, revel in and laugh at your children's stories again and again and again.  It tells them over and over how very important they are and teaches them about speaking their mind and getting their point across.  
• Call your children by the silliest names, even if it's only the two of you that get it.  Having a pet name says I love you and I love laughing with you.

I'm thankful for laughing in this crazy, mixed-up world, and I'm thankful for a Dad who is still laughing with me!