On the day my husband turns the kitchen calendar page from August to September something awakes inside of me. The air feels different to me on September 1st than on August 31st. The feel of the air, the colors on the mountain – even the sunshine isn’t the same, and it seems to me that EVERYONE is going back to school. No matter what’s going on in my life I suddenly want to buy supplies; a little plastic ruler, a pink pearl eraser, new #2 pencils, a new box of 64 Crayons, and one of those little zippered pencil keepers that snap into a new three ring binder. I want to go to the Utah Idaho School Supply and decorate a classroom or put up a bulletin board in my kitchen and another one in the living room. I want a new lunch box with a thermos with glass on the inside. I want my mom to take me to JC Pennys or Sears and buy me five new little dresses, one for each day of the week and a pair of buster brown shoes. I want to wake up on crispy fall mornings, when it’s still a little bit dark and get all ready for the day. Will my teacher be nice? Who will be in my class? Where will I sit? Who can forget the smell of a brand new math book and the fear of saying your name and a “little bit about yourself” in front of everyone. Such preparation and such anticipation!
I have a friend whose five-year-old little boy couldn’t wait to start kindergarten. For him it seemed like the first day of school would never come. When it finally did he waited anxiously for the early morning to pass and for the moment to arrive when he could board the bus. “Is it time?” “Is it time?” “Is it time?” When the moment finally did arrive she placed his Spiderman backpack lovingly over his little shoulders and kissed her baby boy on the cheek. She opened the door just as the bus pulled up. Standing firmly in the doorway, a portal that this day marked the end of something so hard to let go of, holding back the tears, she nudged him on to the front step. Suddenly all anticipation and excitement turned to something else. No amount of August preparation had readied him for this September reality. His little body froze, his chin began to quiver, “Aren’t you going to ride the bus with me?”
As she described this little scene I wondered how it was when I left my Heavenly Parents for Earth School. I’m definitely the frightened type – scared of the dark, scared of being alone. When Heavenly Father presented His beautiful plan I think my “shout for joy” had everything to do with the fact that Jesus promised to get on the bus with me. I bet that’s the part of the plan I liked best. We call the 12 Steps the Steps of Recovery. One of the most important things I have “recovered” is my understanding that I am not alone here. Today I like to imagine that when I asked Heavenly Father “Aren’t you going to ride the bus with me?” He said “No, but your Big Brother is already waiting on the bus and He’s saving a seat for you right next to Him!” I was not alone on the bus and I’m never alone at school. Now that is Good News!
By Nannette W.
Posted Wednesday, September 23, 2009
Copyright 2008 by Nannette W. All rights reserved. Making or sending copies is permitted if the page is not changed in any way and the material is not used for profit. This notice must be included on each copy made or sent.
Wednesday, September 23, 2009
Monday, September 7, 2009
“Right Face! Right Face! Right Face!” – The Tools
In a high school biology class we all learned a little bit about genetics. I’m sure you remember the day you were asked to go home and check the ear lobes of everyone in your family to see whose were attached and whose were not. I remember spending the late afternoon of a school day collecting and recording family genetic data. We all waited anxiously for my dad to come home from work so the family genetic picture could be complete, at least as far as eye color, ear lobes, and rolled tongues were concerned. My first lessons in genetics occurred the summer before my sophomore year, but my understanding of what I’d inherited from my parents did not end with Biology class.
Football season was upon us and I decided to try out for the drill team. I can’t even begin to describe the amount of courage it required for this young girl, with absolutely no confidence in her physical abilities, to show up and learn the audition routine. “Anchors Away My Boys” - I’ll never forget that music. I practiced night and day and wonder of wonders I made the team. This was the kind of team that did a lot of marching and a little dancing. This was just the right kind of team for me. Surely I could march!
That brings me to a genetic trait I had never considered. The first day of practice we marched around the football field for hours after school. It didn’t take very much time to recognize that I was in a lot of trouble. Who could have guessed the grief that four little words could impose on the life of a teenage girl. The words were, “Left Face” and “Right Face.” For some strange reason when the team captain shouted, “left” or “right” it did not come automatically to me to turn, along with all the other girls, according to instructions. After one disastrous day of marching I went home and told my parents that dancing was going to be the least of my worries. The amount of time it took my brain to relay to my marching feet to turn right or left on demand was unacceptable for a precision drill team.
To my great astonishment my dad understood exactly what I was talking about. He told me of his experience marching in the army. “Same Thing!” he admitted. “Genetics!” So that was my problem! The great thing was that my dad had hit upon something that helped him during his army days. “When you are marching just cross your fingers on your right hand. It’s a great little reminder.” Well, it worked like a charm. Now I could do “Left Face” “Right Face” on demand. I don’t know if it was because the distance between my head and my fingers was shorter than the distance between head and my feet or what, but with my fingers crossed on my right hand I never again missed a turn on the football field or the basketball court. All it took was a simple reminder between my brain and my feet.
These memories came back to me the other day as I was thinking about another set of reminders I try to use every day. The struggle to choose between right and left is pretty insignificant when compared with the struggle to choose between right and wrong. I haven’t tried crossing the fingers on my right hand to remind me to choose the right, but I have learned that what helps me most is dedicated prayer, dedicated scripture study, dedicated attendance at meetings, and dedicated service etc., with emphasis on the word “dedicated.” I dedicate my private religious activities to my need for Heavenly Help. These things are no longer things I do so I can check them off or so God will like me. They are invitations to the Lord to help me - to remind me - to allow His Spirit to intervene between His command and my inconsistent ability to follow directions.
With dedicated prayer and study, and a prayerfully made plan for attending meetings and serving others, I’m figuratively crossing my fingers on my right hand. Now my march through this day is more likely to be in line with my Captains call. “Right Face, Right Face, Right Face!”
By Nannette W.
Posted Monday, September 7, 2009
Copyright 2008 by Nannette W. All rights reserved. Making or sending copies is permitted if the page is not changed in any way and the material is not used for profit. This notice must be included on each copy made or sent.
Football season was upon us and I decided to try out for the drill team. I can’t even begin to describe the amount of courage it required for this young girl, with absolutely no confidence in her physical abilities, to show up and learn the audition routine. “Anchors Away My Boys” - I’ll never forget that music. I practiced night and day and wonder of wonders I made the team. This was the kind of team that did a lot of marching and a little dancing. This was just the right kind of team for me. Surely I could march!
That brings me to a genetic trait I had never considered. The first day of practice we marched around the football field for hours after school. It didn’t take very much time to recognize that I was in a lot of trouble. Who could have guessed the grief that four little words could impose on the life of a teenage girl. The words were, “Left Face” and “Right Face.” For some strange reason when the team captain shouted, “left” or “right” it did not come automatically to me to turn, along with all the other girls, according to instructions. After one disastrous day of marching I went home and told my parents that dancing was going to be the least of my worries. The amount of time it took my brain to relay to my marching feet to turn right or left on demand was unacceptable for a precision drill team.
To my great astonishment my dad understood exactly what I was talking about. He told me of his experience marching in the army. “Same Thing!” he admitted. “Genetics!” So that was my problem! The great thing was that my dad had hit upon something that helped him during his army days. “When you are marching just cross your fingers on your right hand. It’s a great little reminder.” Well, it worked like a charm. Now I could do “Left Face” “Right Face” on demand. I don’t know if it was because the distance between my head and my fingers was shorter than the distance between head and my feet or what, but with my fingers crossed on my right hand I never again missed a turn on the football field or the basketball court. All it took was a simple reminder between my brain and my feet.
These memories came back to me the other day as I was thinking about another set of reminders I try to use every day. The struggle to choose between right and left is pretty insignificant when compared with the struggle to choose between right and wrong. I haven’t tried crossing the fingers on my right hand to remind me to choose the right, but I have learned that what helps me most is dedicated prayer, dedicated scripture study, dedicated attendance at meetings, and dedicated service etc., with emphasis on the word “dedicated.” I dedicate my private religious activities to my need for Heavenly Help. These things are no longer things I do so I can check them off or so God will like me. They are invitations to the Lord to help me - to remind me - to allow His Spirit to intervene between His command and my inconsistent ability to follow directions.
With dedicated prayer and study, and a prayerfully made plan for attending meetings and serving others, I’m figuratively crossing my fingers on my right hand. Now my march through this day is more likely to be in line with my Captains call. “Right Face, Right Face, Right Face!”
By Nannette W.
Posted Monday, September 7, 2009
Copyright 2008 by Nannette W. All rights reserved. Making or sending copies is permitted if the page is not changed in any way and the material is not used for profit. This notice must be included on each copy made or sent.
Wednesday, September 2, 2009
Humility, It’s About US
We often talk about the need to “be” humble. Today I want to speak of humility as something we can “do” something about. I’m not sure I was ever very acquainted with real humility until receiving understanding through recovery from addiction. Humility was always something pretty nebulous. I was taught that it was something we should possess, something we should seek, but if we thought we had it, we could be assured we didn’t. A pretty complicated concept for a child or an adult!
I was the oldest child of seven, the classic first child – the very responsible second mother type. My parents use to introduce me as their child who, “never gives them any trouble.” That was a hard description to live up to. I certainly was not perfect. I was a victim of the Fall just like the rest of mortality. In my mind the gulf between me and perfection was much greater than anyone knew. I was pretty sure I was humble because I didn’t like myself very much.
Today I understand that the feeling of self-disapproval does not constitute real humility. Humility is a keen awareness of God’s qualities and my need for Him. I must come to believe that, in spite of my weaknesses, God knows me, and loves me, and can be trusted with me and with the other people in my life!
Sometimes we use the adjective “humble” to describe someone who is shy or fearful, someone who lacks confidence, someone full of negative feelings about themselves, but a life of true humility is a life driven by the Gospel principles embodied by the 12 Steps. This is the description of humility as a way of life. It’s the description of a relationship:
1. Be honest about my need for help
2. Develop the hope of receiving divine help because of Jesus Christ
3. Trust Him with my problems and the problems of others
4. Be willing to look at the truth about me
5. Confess the truth about me
6. Become willing to be changed
7. Ask Him to change me
8. Become willing to look at how my imperfections have effected others
9. Make amends
10. Be accountable for my behavior every day
11. Seek His direction and power
12. Be willing to help others find this path and then allow this humble stance with the Lord to begin to order more and more areas of my life
When we use the word “humble” in regard to another person we are describing the kind of relationship they seem to have with God. To grow in humility is to live in greater and greater awareness of His magnificence and my tremendous need and to receive all the love and direction and power He extends my way. The word “humble” describes my part of a right relationship with God. Humility is never about me. It’s always about Us. Humility is not about loathing myself. It’s about loving my God!
By Nannette W.
Posted Wednesday, September 2, 2009
Copyright 2008 by Nannette W. All rights reserved. Making or sending copies is permitted if the page is not changed in any way and the material is not used for profit. This notice must be included on each copy made or sent.
I was the oldest child of seven, the classic first child – the very responsible second mother type. My parents use to introduce me as their child who, “never gives them any trouble.” That was a hard description to live up to. I certainly was not perfect. I was a victim of the Fall just like the rest of mortality. In my mind the gulf between me and perfection was much greater than anyone knew. I was pretty sure I was humble because I didn’t like myself very much.
Today I understand that the feeling of self-disapproval does not constitute real humility. Humility is a keen awareness of God’s qualities and my need for Him. I must come to believe that, in spite of my weaknesses, God knows me, and loves me, and can be trusted with me and with the other people in my life!
Sometimes we use the adjective “humble” to describe someone who is shy or fearful, someone who lacks confidence, someone full of negative feelings about themselves, but a life of true humility is a life driven by the Gospel principles embodied by the 12 Steps. This is the description of humility as a way of life. It’s the description of a relationship:
1. Be honest about my need for help
2. Develop the hope of receiving divine help because of Jesus Christ
3. Trust Him with my problems and the problems of others
4. Be willing to look at the truth about me
5. Confess the truth about me
6. Become willing to be changed
7. Ask Him to change me
8. Become willing to look at how my imperfections have effected others
9. Make amends
10. Be accountable for my behavior every day
11. Seek His direction and power
12. Be willing to help others find this path and then allow this humble stance with the Lord to begin to order more and more areas of my life
When we use the word “humble” in regard to another person we are describing the kind of relationship they seem to have with God. To grow in humility is to live in greater and greater awareness of His magnificence and my tremendous need and to receive all the love and direction and power He extends my way. The word “humble” describes my part of a right relationship with God. Humility is never about me. It’s always about Us. Humility is not about loathing myself. It’s about loving my God!
By Nannette W.
Posted Wednesday, September 2, 2009
Copyright 2008 by Nannette W. All rights reserved. Making or sending copies is permitted if the page is not changed in any way and the material is not used for profit. This notice must be included on each copy made or sent.
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