Parking Lot 3 Emergency and Outpatient Services

So here I am again! Parking Lot 3 Emergency and Outpatient Services CMC Lincolnton Campus. What irony! The last time my family was here my dad was figting for every breath and each life sustaining heart beat--and what a valiant fight it was! Even then, he was brave, beautiful and kind. We didn't know that in a matter of days my dear daddy would become a permanent resident of Heaven--the place he so longed for ans spoke incessantly of his whole life.

And with that...there I sat in Parking Lot 3. The hospital was there. The parking lot was there. I was there. Everything would have looked the same to an observer. Yet, there was a major difference inside of my heart from the last visit to this one. My dad was not there this time. How strange the feeling that overwhelms you in a moment like this. How rich the grace of God in this moment! The last time I visited this hospital, I had in tow several California Salads from O'Charley's and several lidded beverages. I remember the sun shining down, unlike today, as I relish in the rain that I love. It was hot that day, and I struggled to carry our nourishment, my phone and my car keys as I made my way to my dad's hospital room. I was glad to feed my family a more healthy option than burgers. I laughed with Dad as we sneaked him some salad and a bite of the scrumptious yeast role---breaking the rules, of course. My mama did spoil him so! I have never been so happy about breaking the rules as this moment. He enjoyed every single bite. I loved watching him, and I savored every second as I etched his face into my soul--burning every beautiful curve and every rigid line in my mind forever! What a beautiful man he was in every way!

But I digress! Today, was a day of abundant grace for me. It was a day when my Abba Father Who has loved me longer and loves me most made special preparation to protect and care for me. I orginally planned on working a half day, today, in preparation for a doctor's visit that afternoon. However, I felt my body needed some rest. So, I indulged and took the whole day. I never rent movies at a movie store as I am a member of several online movie establishments, but yesterday on the way home from work I stopped and grabbed a "few". :) What I really wanted wasn't there, but there was one last copy of "The Other Woman", so it became mine for a day or two. I am not a good movie companion. I always start a movie in one sitting and finish it in another. My ADHD won't let me sit still that long. I started the movie last night and probably wouldn't have finished it until this evening except that my friend Debby Ray convinced me that I needed to finish it promptly! I wouldn't have been able to finish it if I had only taken that half day. The movie was hysterical and everything you would want in a Chick Flick. There was a scene on the beach with three best friends watching the sunset. As they watched, they stood silently supporting and caring for each other. It included a song by Britt Nicole "The Sun is Rising", and the chorus included my dad's favorite words to me, "You're gonna make it." I could hear him say, "You're gonna make it, Lisa. Daddy loves you" as I replay his voicemail recording to me over again. Long story short, I bought the song and listened to it on repeat all the way from Lincolnton down Union Road toward South Carolina where my doctor's office is. Little did I know how much I would need this song as a reminder in about an hour.

It was during this doctor's visit that I discovered we would be doing further tests at CMC in Lincolnton--my dad's hospital---the one I have only visited when he was there! Really? Why not Charlotte? Or better yet, why not Gastonia since that's where we were? My doctor was perplexed by the stunned look on my face. She thought the timing was the problem, but it was actually the location that was problematic for me. She couldn't possibly have known, and I didn't say. So, there I was. I drove alone to CMC where I had driven two and half months ago and where my life drastically began to change. As an extreme nurturer, "alone" works best for me in these situations. This way, I don't have to be distracted about trying to make sure everyone else isn't stressed and that they are okay. This way, I can just handle me. It's less complicated that way. As I drove, I listened to Britt Nicole  as she repeatedly sang, "You're gonna make it. You're gonna make it. The night can only last so long. Lift up your eyes and see the sun is rising." I felt such peace; and yes...there were more tears thatn I would have liked as I sat in Parking Lot 3 one hour before my appointment. There was also a moment of grieving, but mostly there was peace and such joy! My dad wasn't here, today, because he had made it home! He wasn't struggling to breath. Instead he was with the One who graciously grants us each of those breaths. Moreover, this Heavenly Father knew exactly where I would be at 5:00, today, when I didn't have a clue. He knew how torn I would be, and he knew I would cry. He even counted every one of my shed tears before a single one fell. He guided my steps to rent a stupid movie with a precious song(he takes the foolish things to confound the wise 1 Cor. 1:27). He prompted me to find the song and buy it so that I would have one more cherished reminder of His faithfulness at just he right moment in Parking Lot 3. One more reminder that, "You're Gonna Make It, Lisa! Daddy loves you very much!" And that my friends is not just my earthly daddy, but also my Heavenly Daddy! I have passed that hospital many times the past few weeks, each time refusing to glance at it. Today, was the day for me to return. It was sooner than I thought...more quickly than I would have planned, but Parking Lot 3 met her match, today! I am stronger than I look...stronger than I even think I am...because when my strength is gone; His strength is perfect! (2 Corinthians 12:9)

Beauty and the Beast Without

It was my funny, witty, very beautiful friend Gladys Setzer, who has a way of ushering a contagious sense of joy into every strenuous workout, that challenged me to post pictures of times when I felt beautiful. Now you don't do that to someone with the soul of a writer...even a very novice soul. This person will reflect upon, meditate about and even dissect the entire notion of beauty before it's all said and done. Of course, this is what I did, and now I MUST blog about it as a way to record my reflections.

Beauty? As we are often told, beauty is in the eye of the beholder. How true. Beauty, according to a quick Google search, said it is "a combination of qualities, such as shape, color or form that pleases the aesthetic senses, especially sight." This sounds about right; but what makes up this combination of qualities that prove aesthetically pleasing from one person to the next is often up for debate and always a matter of opinion.

When thinking of "beauty" I am filled with mixed emotions. There are thoughts of gorgeous landscapes such as the remembrance of the vivacious coastal waters, the expanse and formidableness of a mountain view , a tranquil forest that overtakes your being. I recall beautiful moments: the first time I looked upon my childrens' faces, the way a puppy's breath smells as it eagerly licks your cheek, the way a small child's hand feels nestled safely inside of your own or how a parent's hand feels as it strokes your face as you are fighting off a fever. I even recall the look of love upon my mother's face as she stood over my father's grave saying one last goodbye. The love on her face was astounding and so beautiful. These are beautiful to me and make me feel beautiful. These memories alone produce a tangible beauty for me as the remembrance of the exquisiteness of the moment overtakes me. So what makes us beautiful?

Is beauty a number on the scales? (Lord, I hope not!) Is it coordinating the right accessories with the right outfit? Is it a set of bodily measurements? Could it be simply the way one talks or carries oneself across the room? Is beauty the right hair style or the right fashion statement? Is beauty a list of accomplishments by your name or even the impressiveness of ones bank account? It often breaks my

heart to see how America prioritizes the frivolous and the superficial. I am angered by the way our young girls and boys are made to feel inferior because they don't fit Hollywood's image of beautiful (which is actually unrealistic and often far from natural...or even unhealthy in some cases). This crazy notion is a beast that we often must wrestle against as it lies to us about beauty and value.

So, as I reflect upon beauty, tonight, I reflect upon Gladys. She doesn't think she's beautiful when she is sweating and panting from a painful workout, but she is! Her blue eyes twinkle as the sun hits them at just the right Saturday morning angle, creating a kaleidoscope effect that is mesmerizing. The grimace on her face (and ours) as we set our face like a flint to complete one more painful repetition, is so beautiful. There is nothing more appealing than the expression of sheer determination. The words that our coaches use to inspire us to go one more lap and the way each of us fights for one more win...is so beautiful.

At last, tonight, I reflect on beauty. There is something so freeing for a woman in her forties where beauty is concerned. We finally reach a self love and appreciation that is secure and not hinged upon another's estimation. I've heard those middle-aged ladies before me mention this, and now I can attest to its truth. Am I beautiful? You better bet your tail I am! Do I always feel it? No. Not when I look at superficial standards, but in the moments when I listen to the truth...I can see that I am breath-taking and fearfully and wonderfully made, and so are you! So, here you go Gladys! Thank you so much for the challenge. Thanks for making me reflect (my favorite thing to do). Thanks for giving me a reason to write, tonight...and thanks for allowing your own beauty to shine through! You are beautiful inside and out!

Powder Rooms, Coloring Outside of the Lines and Pasta

Maybe it's because I have been six weeks without a proper kitchen, all starting the day after I buried my precious dad (and my hero)...maybe it's because the heat index has been 104 degrees here some days...maybe it's because we work 40 hour days (really 44) in four days that has thrown me askew, but I have seriously been contemplating the concept of coloring outside the lines and the concept of "play" and enjoying the moment we are in(this concept was newly inflamed after a recent conference).

My colleagues and I were fortuante enough to visit Atlanta and go to the ISTE convention. It was awesome and informative. I gained a lot of insight, which I hope to process, store and share later. It was during this visit that I noticed some unique situations. There were homeless people by the droves. Some were friendly and conversational. Others merely wanted money to purchase whatever was their most pressing need at the moment. This sets ones mind to thinking about rules, absolute truths, one's responsibility to society and what is expected behavior in various situations (this mindset is especially true for a Preacher's Kid like me).
The crazy things is, I noticed a lot of situations that were abnormal. illogical and a type "coloring outside of the lines", so to speak. As my buddies and I visited one establishment after our conference, in order to grab some dessert, a drink and have a chat, I needed to visit the powder room. It was quite an unusual powder room. There were three locks on the door and the entire wall in front of the toilet was a mirror. Really? This was completely unnecessary and unorthodox. Who wants a mirror in front of the John? This got me thinking of rules and traditional architecture, what is practical, and what is not (yep....I took more than one class on interior decorating in college and didn't do too badly either). Who would intentionally design this bathroom this way? Why? Three working locks? Really? Was this artistic expression or clumsiness?

Upon returning home, I was alone for a couple of days while waiting on my family to return from their vacation. This is not a problem for me. I love being with people who enjoy being with me, but I am equally happy to be alone. I have come love me...I actually like me too...and Lord, knows that's been a long time coming. So, I decided to check some things off my solo bucket list. I vistied a zoo that I have wanted to go to for some time ( and might I add, it was more than I expected. I loved it!). I also visited a cafe that I have wanted to go to. Shockingly, at lunch time, I was the youngest person there (even counting the employees). There were at least 40 customers, and I completely savored the atmosphere. I relished hearing the older generation talk about what was important to them (house repairs, children not visitng regularly, which dessert was the best on the menu). It was there that I needed to visit the powder room again. When I entered, I should have noticed something peculiar, but my mind was somewhere else. It took me a minute to realize that there were two toilets side-by-side in a single occupancy bathroom with no partition between the two. Hum? Maybe you bring your child to the Ladies Room with you? Really? I can't imagine anyone else being in the room with you, so maybe you get to choose? Left? or Right? LOL! This was amusing!!! Again, I began to think. How unorthodox? How bizarre? How little caution one gave to following the rules or doing what is traditionally acceptable.

I guess I am at that season in my life where I am ready to not color inside the lines. I am ready to not just do what is expected. Maybe eating high carb pasta in spite of a low carb cultural craze is on the menu. Maybe I'll get a tattoo of an elephant on my ankle. Maybe I'll make a child-like tent and sleep on the floor. Maybe I'll paint my nails neon pink (Wait! I already did that). Whatever the case, I am ready to savor the moments, do something just because, spend time with my family and say forget the rules for just one day! I am ready to just be in the moment with no thoughts of rules or concern for what people think. I am ready to color outside of the lines just because I can. Anybody have some crayons?

“Learn the rules like a pro, so you can break them like an artist.”  Pablo Picasso