Like a Ball in a Bowl

I've spent the past two days learning about writing requirements documents, a task that is almost as interesting to me as watching paint dry (though necessary and the training was very beneficial).  But there is one thing that jumped out to me more than anything, something I wanted to share.

The trainer (joedemasko.com to give appropriate credit) used an illustration like this.  He said that people are like a ball in a bowl, and stressful situations are like pulling that ball up the side.  When you let it go, the ball rolls all around in erratic directions before coming to rest.  And people are like that ball, always seeking to come back to rest.

I thought that was a pretty good illustration of what happens.  I honestly I consider myself a good gauge, as stressful situations and I seem to find each other regularly.

But as I thought through this more, I realized that he missed something.  He used the mind of a mathematician to formulate this.  But what he missed is the human element of how that ball can behave less erratic, how it can come to rest sooner.

If you were to line that ball with something, the ball would slow sooner.  Depending on what you line it with, the results can vary.  Line it with felt and you have some impact, line it with thick cotton gauze and you have even more.

Our lives are like that.  We all get taken to stressful heights of our bowl.  Some events cause drop us from just a small height to recover from.  Some drops are so far that the time to return to a calm state is much longer and much more erratic.

But if you line your life, you will recover quicker and with a less erratic path than you would otherwise.  But what you line it with determines how much so.  Line it with friends?  Definitely helps decrease your time back to that state of rest.  Line it with friends and love?  Even more so.  Line it with all of those and faith in a loving God?  Now you've got a bowl, or a life, that can withstand even the worst.

The drop will still hurt, but is so much better with a lined life.

Choosing to Believe

I've never been very good at choosing to believe something without cold hard proof, or some experience of my own that gives me reason to believe.  For me it's a choice, not a gut instinct usually.  I wish I just went with my gut more often, but I weigh the information just like I do with any decision.

Some things come very easy for me.  I believe in God because I've had a personal experience with Him.  I believe in love because I've felt it many ways and times.  I believe in certain ways of parenting because of research I've done and watching people I respect.  I believe in the Gators, because they've won too many championships to ignore. 

But sometimes believing isn't easy.  Sometimes you have to choose to believe, even though you may be wrong.  I've sometimes wondered how people do it, how they seem to stick their heads in the sand.  But maybe they're not, maybe they're just choosing to look at a different perspective and different pieces of evidence than others. 

Today I'm choosing to look from a different perspective at a few things, and to believe what is a bit tough.  I may be proven wrong, but have decided that I'd rather believe than not.  I'd rather choose to look at the good than the bad.  There's plenty of good and there's plenty of bad in most situations on any given day.  I think which you chose to believe says more about you than it does about anything else.

Today, choose to believe.

One Shoelace at a Time

My little guy (the one more like me than I usually admit) went to his first day of 3rd grade with different colored shoe laces in each shoe, and no one walking him to class.  "Mom, I'm not five" is exactly what he said.  I hadn't made a comment about the laces, because what do I know about cool?  But not walking my son in and taking a photo of him in front of his desk?  Come on!  You can't really expect a mom to be okay with that.

 

Watching him walk away

But we must.

We must let them grow, giving them independence in safe and healthy ways.  We must let them be their own person, not a miniature version of us (though its scary just how much like us they are).  Even when they make decisions that cause them pain.  We guide, we love, we teach through it all, but we must let them find their way.

I know more and more about how my parents felt as they raised us, but especially as they still loved and guided Austin towards the end of his time with us.  Like what I did with him as a sister, wanting the best for him, but knowing he had to choose his own way, no matter how much pain it brought him or us. 

I think that God must feel something like this.  Giving us the tools, love and support we need and knowing that he could choose our way.  But He lets us.  He loves us enough to want us to come to Him out of our own will, not because he forces it. 

So I let go, just one shoelace and walk at a time, so that one day Drew is able to make his own wise choices.  But I think like today, I'll always be watching closely with my heart in my throat.


**I have to add in here that I have some wonderful friends that demonstrate this all the time and just a few days ago discussed this very topic.  It helped me today as I watched him go, so thank you dear friends!

All these people going somewhere...

I'm headed to Houston, and somehow ended up with two stops to get there. Jacksonville to Charlotte, Charlotte to New Orleans and New Orleans to Houston. Not exactly a direct path.

But I'm here with an army of Monday morning commuters, all scrambling to get somewhere... a client visit, a sales prospect, a training or some other 'gotta get there' locale.

I don't know where I'm headed. I mean, I know where I'm going today. But airports always spark a reminder for me that there are so many yet to be explored places. I see city names and think of what potential might be there, what lies ahead for the people at that gate. And I face the reality that I'm not really headed where I want to be.

I enjoy my job, and love the challenges that come daily. I'm fortunate to have that and I know it.

But yet... I literally fantasize about doing something that truly reaches people. I dream of finding a way to share my story and share hope. Not hope that things will always turn out okay. But real hope, that we are not alone through anything, that God loves us and has a plan for us. That he can use us through the bad we've done or experienced.

Today I'm heading to Houston. But I'm continuing to take one small step at a time to that place I really want to be. And maybe one day I'll be getting on a plane to speak to groups about this message. In the meantime, where I'm at isn't so bad.

Maybe like my indirect route to Houston, I'm just taking a bit longer to get there.




- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

He didn't have an iPhone...

This may sound silly, especially with all the things Austin has missed, but this just dawned on me.  He never had an iPhone!  The reason that strikes me as so odd, is that he was so techie that he would have certainly had one if he'd been around a little bit longer.  Austin disappeared on June 26.  The first iPhone was released on June 29.  Austin had recently gone through a few new phones, always looking for the latest and greatest.

And Facebook... back then, it wasn't used by the masses, mostly just college students.  He never experienced the fun of checking in, posting hundreds of photos, poking people, and playing Farmville.  And Twitter!  Twitter had just been launched, and most of didn't know what a tweet was.

We didn't own one flat screen TV, and hadn't even considered buying one.  They were expensive!  Now I can't remember how we watched TV without a large flat screen with HD.  

I had never been much of a gadget person, but five months before Austin disappeared I started a new position in a software company.  For the first time, we had a lot in common in our day to day lives.  Though we did very different things in very different companies, it was a common ground.  Now over four years later, I'm still with that company and in a much different role.  But I think Austin would love knowing what I do, and even laugh at some of the stories I'd tell him if he was here.

And he'd probably be impressed that I now love having the latest and greatest phone.