I traveled to Northeast Arkansas last week to visit my family while the kids were at camp and Ben was at work. I also visited two boutiques that I love and are a must when I’m in town. When I got home on Tuesday, I emptied my shopping bags turning them over so that everything fell out on the kitchen table. As I sorted through my purchases and receipts, I turned over a small piece of paper and was shocked to see this written in marker: “LOVED.” I don’t know which young woman in what boutique slipped this in with my purchases, but the message and the fact that it was in the bag stopped me in my tracks. 

I’d told several of my friends that I was going to Arkansas. Some of them know that I don’t love driving the eight hours by myself, so I usually break up the trip into two days. All of them knew that my dad is struggling with the effects of Parkinson’s disease and that I was going with he and my mom to a doctor’s appointment. They understood that the trip could be emotionally difficult for me. Over the course of the week, I received numerous texts from each of them. “When are you leaving for AR? Be safe. Tell your mom I said hi.” “Safe travels and will be thinking of you.” “Did you make it ok?” “Praying.” “How did today’s doctor’s appointment go?” “Keeping you and your parents in my prayers.” “Know that you (and your family) are loved beyond measure.” 

Loved. Just like the tag from the store said. I felt covered in love by my friends the entire time I was away from home. Their acts of checking in on me, their messages of love and support, meant the world to me. I felt buoyed by their love because they thought of me and took time to reach out. Letting me know that I was on their minds and in their prayers was exactly what I needed. 

On part of my drive home, I listened to an audio of Brené Brown teaching a class on “The Power of Vulnerability.” One of her famous quotes is “When you get to a place where you understand that love and belonging, your worthiness, is a birthright and not something you have to earn, anything is possible.” We all need to be reminded that we deserve love and belonging, not because of what we produce or what we do for a living or how much money we have, but simply because we exist. We need reminders though that we are worthy of love and belonging. Reminders, like texts, may be all it takes to let someone know that you love them. I know for me, those texts from my friends were all I needed.       

So, let’s try to keep in mind that small gestures can go a long way to show others that they are loved. And if you’re going through a difficult time right now, please remember that You. Are. Loved. Period.  

The other day, I was paying for a car wash when the woman asked if I wanted to upgrade from my single wash to a monthly plan in which I could wash my van twice a day, every day for the month. I declined her offer and thought who would wash their care twice a day every single day of the month? As I pulled into the car wash, I grabbed a microfiber cloth I keep in the car to wipe dust off the dashboard as the machine pulled my van through the wash. But when I looked up and saw the water running down the windshield, I stopped cleaning. I realized that the inside of the car was quiet except for the sound of the water. It was captivating. For a minute, I was surrounded by silence.  

I also thought back to a memory I hadn’t recalled in a long, long time. When we were kids, my brother and I loved to go through the carwash in our parents’ station wagon. We were delighted when the big blue shaggy roller would come down on the car. I smiled remembering how excited we got when we went to the carwash even though it seems silly now. Simple entertainment, but we thought it was so fun.

I often think that if I’m going to have time alone, I need a weekend or longer away from the stresses of everyday life. But I wonder what would happen if I looked for small pockets of time to find restoration? Many of us look for every opportunity to multi-task, me included. If I’m on the phone, I try to find something I can accomplish at the same time. Recently, my daughter Riley called from her job as camp counselor and was particularly attuned to any sound that demonstrated my distraction. “Mom, that is so loud. Please stop,” she said even though I thought I was being discreet performing my additional task. She called me out on the fact that I was not focused completely. But just as I was too busy cleaning the dash of my van to realize I had a moment to be still and enjoy quiet, I was too intent on performing some other job instead of listening well and building my relationship with my child.     

As for entertainment, sometimes we fall into the trap of believing it must be elaborate and expensive. Perhaps though, we are looking at it through the wrong lens. Now, I’m not saying my kids, three of which are teenagers, would find the carwash amusing. At this point in their lives, the oldest two wash their own cars. But what if the goal is togetherness no matter what we are doing? When I was a kid, the carwash was fun because my brother and I were in it together. Laughing with one another was the key to the happiness we found in that small, everyday circumstance.  

Maybe we can reframe the way we view some of our daily tasks and look for time in our schedules to both be alone and be together. Those small moments of renewal may help lessen the stress we carry most of the time. And perhaps I’ll rethink that monthly carwash plan after all…

On May 6, 2023, Ed Sheeran opened his North American tour in Dallas at the stadium where the Dallas Cowboys play. We took our boys to the concert because we all love Ed. The week before the scheduled concert though, I worried that it might not happen because Ed was defending himself in a New York courtroom in a civil suit.  He’d been sued for copyright infringement by the heirs of the writer of another song. They claimed that a portion of Ed’s song “Thinking Out Loud” copied part of their father’s song too closely. Ed vigorously defended himself, and even said he might quit music if the jury found him liable. He explained that only twelve notes exist in music and that popular music uses a limited number of chords, which consist of three or more notes, so some similarities flow through all songs. The jury found Ed not liable a couple of days before our show, and on the night of the show, he said, “I’ve really been looking forward to playing this one” before he launched into “Thinking Out Loud” as we all cheered.

I’m not a musician, but Ed’s statements stuck with me. Only twelve notes and even fewer chords used in popular music. And yet, every single day artists write, record, and produce new music. We hear new songs on the radio every week, and they do not all sound the same. In fact, musicians often break new ground and create new sounds. The possibilities are limitless in part because the musicians who create the music are different from one another. They hear music in their minds that doesn’t yet exist and when they bring it to fruition, the rest of us are allowed to enjoy it. But what if they didn’t create the music they hear? We’d all be the lesser for it.

Sometimes, we fall into the trap of thinking it’s all been done before. This is hard for writers especially; we may find ourselves inspired by our imaginations and then sabotage ourselves by comparing ourselves to other authors. We question whether every story has already been told. It’s not just artists who suffer from this type of imposter syndrome though. If we have an idea for a project or a new way of doing something – in business, for the PTA, at church, in our communities, or for our families – we often talk ourselves out of pursuing them because we decide that someone somewhere must’ve done it already. How could we be the one who comes up with something new? But that’s where our individuality comes into play. No one is exactly like you. No one has experienced life in the exact same way as you. No one has the same thoughts, mental filters, or emotional responses that you have. When you bring your unique self to the situation, you will have a different take from another person. 

Maybe there are only twelve notes and because of that we share similar lives and stories. But the person who creates the song is distinct and irreplaceable. What happens if we decide to show up as our authentic selves and believe that we have something special to offer the world? The world would be better because of it.

I recently drove by the prettiest tree with green leaves and purple flowers. Then, I saw the same type of tree everywhere – in my neighborhood and in the landscaping in the parking lots at Alex’s karate studio, Target, and office buildings. I’m sure the blooms won’t last long, and the trees will simply be green for the rest of the summer, but for the time being, they’re gorgeous. This is our seventeenth summer in North Texas, and we’ve lived in the same house and city the entire time. It’s not like the trees are new because they are tall and mature. And yet I’ve never noticed this type of tree before now, but once I saw them, I couldn’t unsee them. 

At first, it bothered me that I’d been so unobservant. I couldn’t understand how I’d missed them. Was I so distracted I didn’t see beauty in front of me? Was I so busy or stressed about other things that I was unable to “stop and smell the roses” so to speak? But then, I reframed the situation. Maybe if after all these years, I could find something previously unnoticed that now brings me joy, then I might discover other opportunities to notice things that I haven’t yet identified in nature, in my community, and in the people I know.  

During the Covid lockdown in the spring of 2020, we obviously spent a lot of time together as a family with Ben working at home and the kids Zooming in for school. During that time, I realized that my son Clay, who was 10 at the time, was much more laid back than the rest of us. I’d assumed that we were all high strung and anxiety prone as that was my frame of reference, but because we were together as a family 24/7 for months, I saw his personality in stark contrast to his siblings, Ben, and I. Clay had an innate ability to let things roll off his back. He didn’t get as upset or worried as the rest of us. He didn’t have strong opinions on what we ate or what movie we watched. I felt like a bad parent because I hadn’t truly grasped his easy-going traits before then, but once I saw and understood his way of being, I couldn’t unsee it. Instead, over the past three years, I’ve been highly cognizant of his personality and have made sure we press him for his opinions at times so that he feels seen and heard. 

While I’ve felt some distress for not noticing things that perhaps should’ve been more obvious to me, I’ve decided to focus on the beauty inherent when I notice things for the first time. If we remain open to learning new things and willing to let go of our assumptions about situations or people, we may find our hearts and minds expand. We can better appreciate the true essence and authentic nature of the people who fill our lives with meaning if we allow them to show us who they are.

I’ve taken a bunch of pictures of all the purple flowered trees I’ve seen in the past couple of weeks. In part to capture their beauty, but also to remind me to be open to the beauty that can catch us by surprise and teach us how to see with new eyes.   

Earlier this year, we were leaving my son’s high school basketball game after a loss when someone ran into the back of my van. Of course, I was immediately mad, threw the car into park, stepped out in the dark, and slammed my driver’s side door behind me with quite a bit of force. I started to walk to the back of the van to confront the person who’d hit me when I heard a voice say, “It’s me.” I recognized the person who’d hit me as one of our fellow basketball parents and a friend of ours. Instantly, the anger left me. “Are you okay?” I asked, now worried about my friend. Thankfully, we were all fine. I told my friend, “I hate that this happened, but since it did, I’m glad it was you.” I trusted him and knew he would make sure my car was fixed.  

This semester, I took two back-to-back classes in which we studied the Biblical prophets. Some of the prophetic readings were tough and disturbing, but the themes that arose most prominently for me were that God wants us to care for the oppressed, needy, and poor. God wants us to seek social justice. God does not want us to worship wealth and power. Jesus also followed the prophetic tradition in his teachings about how to treat people and his actions toward others, especially those who were marginalized. At one point, Jesus was asked about the greatest commandment. “Jesus answered, ‘The first is, ‘Hear, O Israel: the Lord our God, the Lord is one; you shall love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind and with all your strength.’ The second is this, ‘You shall love your neighbor as yourself.’ There is no other commandment greater than these.’” (Mark 12:29-31).

Love God. Love your neighbor. Sounds easy. But I’ve been thinking about my reaction to the rear-end car incident. I was so angry and ready to give a piece of mind to the other person until I recognized that person was my friend. My reaction in that situation was not my best. I think I may engage in that type of behavior more than I care to admit. I don’t always recognize people as my neighbors right off the bat. When I encounter people whose beliefs diverge from mine or who live different lives than mine, I may see them as “other” instead of my neighbor. And I may keep them at arm’s length so that I don’t have to accept them as my neighbors. 

I think our human nature is to distance ourselves from anyone who differs from us. Fear and self-preservation may cause us to act defensively. When we don’t move beyond our initial assessment that another is different from us, we most likely will never consider them our neighbor. We won’t consider them part of our community. We won’t see them as God’s beloved children. And when we don’t see others as our neighbors, we may fail to help them in their times of need or when they are denied their rights leading to oppression. By denying them as our neighbors, we fail to do what God asks of us. 

My neighbors aren’t just those who are already my friends. I need to remember that everyone is my neighbor even though that may be difficult at times. God expects as much.