Tag Archives: gratitude

General

A Clip of Journals

1 Comment

I got something special in the mail today. 

For six years, I’ve used the Bullet Journal system, and for over four of that, Scribbles That Matter has been my go-to for great paper (thick with no ghosting!), high quality, and vibrant color.

In late December, I watched one of Ryder Carroll’s livestreams about the system he designed. His intent was that users could “track the past, organize the present, and plan for the future” while regaining some control and focus for how they spend those precious resources: time and energy.

During the stream, I realized I’ve completely missed the reflection piece of BuJo… which essentially turned my notebook into a glorified day planner full of unfocused daily notes and repeated thoughts.

Reflection is the part of the process which helps you look back at what was working well, or what wasn’t. It’s how you more clearly identify what you want more of moving forward, and what you need to cut down on or eliminate.

Without that effort, I was left with day after day of notes on all the tasks I did or left unfinished, lots of cool or frustrating moments that happened, details of good and bad results, and just page after page of evidence of the passage of time.

No thrust, no vector.

Just lists of events, unevaluated, un-interrogated, unconsidered, recorded but forgotten.

You can’t learn lessons without taking time to absorb them. I vowed to learn from this lesson, and to start learning from the many others readily available.

But that would cost something. Reflection and deeper journaling will take up space on the pages. Doing BuJo better would mean burning through notebooks faster… but would also mean refocused vision, renewed purpose, and greater intention in my day-to-day.

Well worth the trade-off.

Prior to watching Ryder’s stream, I thought, “I’ve gone through this notebook in less than a year. Maybe I am using up space too fast.”

Then I heard Ryder talk about how he goes through one each quarter, and laughed. My pace is glacial compared to that.

I started my new journal on 7 Jan, with a stack of seven finished journals on my shelf.

Plus I received a nice Happy Holidays gift from my company (The Intellekt Group, LLC), and realized they could be funding my Bullet Journal ritual for the next year or more.

I’m not sure about the Mustard color, but I have faith it’ll grow on me.

The stack of STMs arrived today, adding to the pile, waiting for whatever the future holds. Maybe it’s a clip of bullet journals now.

If you’ve got a system for journaling or reflection, I’d love to hear about it! Maybe it’s something I could use in my own habit. Let me know in a comment what you do to track your past, organize your present, and plan your future.

FreeWorship Lyrics, Worship

All Along The Way

Leave a comment

On New Year’s Eve, on my way to work, my morning was fitting the 2020 mold perfectly.

Traffic was horrible even though many people had the day off.

I hadn’t had breakfast yet, despite being up for a few hours.

I was running later than I wanted to be, which would likely mean staying later at work to get those hours knocked out.

Finally, as I came through the base gate and showed my ID card, I fumbled trying to put it back in its cellphone case sleeve, and it fell somewhere in my car.

I pulled over and searched for a few minutes, but the card was nowhere to be found. I even wondered if maybe there was a hole in the floor I didn’t know about, under some fabric or a mat.

Then I took a long look at the plastic panel between the front seats of my car, where the parking break is located. There’s a small, mostly covered, slot for the adjustable parking break handle, and although it looked like a you’d need a one-in-a-million shot, you could probably slide an ID card into that tiny groove.

I shone light into the groove and–of course–saw the white plastic of my ID card lurking in the inaccessible depths.

The ID card I would need to even sign in on my computer at work.

The ID card that couldn’t be replaced easily, let alone on a holiday.

The panel is held in place by ratchet bolts on both sides, and it seemed like I would have to remove the front seats if I wanted to gain access.

I drove to the store on base, complaining to my wife on the phone, trying to think of options or tools that might help me get the thing free. Purchase (and breakfast) in hand, I drove to work, thinking that at least I could be at work, on the clock, while I sorted this dilemma out.

There’s a panoramic ocean view on the way to my office, as you drive between the base golf course and the flight line. I remember as a young Airman a few years ago (–ok, several years–OK two decades) looking out at the waves and coming to a crucial realization:

The problems occupying and overwhelming my mind on that particular day wouldn’t even matter or be remembered in a week or two.

New Year’s Eve was no different. I would probably be able to get my ID out of its prison. If not, it would suck, but I would be able to get a replacement in a few days… and my Retired ID would let me get on base and do all my usual activities without hassle.

Actually, that day was different in a way…

A bright rainbow filled the sky to the northwest. I saw it when I left for work, and I saw it again as I enjoyed this vantage point with the beach filling the horizon.

(This is actually the north beach of Okuma back in November, but the rainbow was similarly clear in the sky on New Year’s Eve.)

Biblically, of course, the rainbow calls to mind God’s promise of mercy and His faithfulness—a reminder I no doubt needed given the frustrations about my ID.

I prayed and thanked God for the many good things I have in my favor. I have a great job working for an excellent company that allows me to live on this beautiful island. I am healthy and life is pretty stable. My grumpy attitude is unfounded when I take stock of the blessings in my life.

“God,” I said, forcing my heart to admit what my head knew was true, “I know You’ve blessed me all along the way.”

A flash of inspiration hit–the thought of “there’s a song in that phrase.” I started playing with the words and melody as I made my way to work, and jotted down the details for later tweaking.

And the ID card?

A strip of duct tape on the end of a flattened straw fished my ID card out of the deep crevasse with almost anticlimactic lack of effort.

Your hand holds me, I know You’ve told me
You will never leave, never forsake me
Your hand of blessing, it’s overflowing
Still I’m struggling when things don’t go my way

Your hand is comfort on my shoulder
I know You’re with me in my darkest days
When I’ve got no one, Your hand still holds on
God, help me stop looking around and seek Your face
God, help me stop running around
And run straight into Your embrace

How can I say that I trust You, then challenge what You do?
How can I doubt You will rescue after all You’ve brought me through?

When I can’t see it, can’t understand it
Still I know I can say by faith
All I needed, Your hand provided
Lord, You bless me all along the way

When I’ve wandered, when I’ve squandered
Every precious gift of mercy that You gave
You still sustained me on this journey
Yeah, You bless me all along the way

We played it the first Sunday of the new year at our worship service. Forgive us in advance for the sound “quality” of the livestream, then jump to the 15 minute mark to hear “All Along the Way.”

Scripture commentary, Worship

Potlucks and Feasts

Leave a comment

I had the opportunity to share some thoughts at a couple of recent Chapel services, once in my capacity as the band director introducing the worship songs, and once as a lay-person chosen for the week to share for a few minutes in a “whatever God puts on your heart” style.

Maybe I have a problem with food, but I thought about potlucks–a familiar theme in church settings.

Our praise team has been arranging pot luck dinners before practice for the last two months or so, giving everyone the chance to enjoy a meal together before we work out the details of the songs for Sunday’s service.

One Sunday, we were going to start the service with the old praise chorus, “Trading My Sorrows.” Yes, the one with the most repetitive chorus of all time:

Yes, Lord! Yes, Lord! Yes, yes, Lo-ord!
Yes, Lord! Yes, Lord! Yes, yes, Lo-ord!
Yes, Lord! Yes, Lord! Yes, yes, Lord! Amen!

I thought about how we come to potlucks, and how we draw near to God. As with all potlucks, there’s a little sense of pressure or propriety that drives me to bring something. After all, that’s how it works. Everybody brings a little to share–something good or necessary–and everyone is satisfied with the variety of wonderful contributions. It feels wrong to fill up your plate if you didn’t bring anything.

Well, I just gotta bring *something* to the potluck…

 

That isn’t how we approach Christ.

When we come to church, or when we go to God, sometimes I feel like I’ve got to show up with my best offering, something I’ve worked hard on as a gift, something I can be proud of. After all, it would be wrong to show up empty-handed, nothing to offer, expecting only to receive.

Yet that is the invitation God has made to all of humanity.

If I’m honest with myself (and with what Scripture says about me), I know that all I’m bringing to Christ is a bunch of baggage–burdens, sins, failures, weakness, frustration, and all sorts of other problems.

There’s this wonderful theological concept called “the Glorious Exchange.” We bring all our junk to Christ, and we get all His best.

He who knew no sin became sin for us, so that we might become the righteousness of God in Him (2 Cor 5:21).

He was pierced for our transgressions; He was crushed for our iniquities. The punishment that brought us peace was upon Him, and by His scourging we are healed (Isa 53:5).

For Christ also died for sins, once for all, the just for the unjust, so that he might bring us to God, having been put to death in the flesh, but made alive in the Spirit (1 Pet 3:18).

There’s a trade that takes place, and we get the better end of the deal.

We are coming to a feast, not a potluck.

Our part is to say, “Yes, Lord!” and show up.

The Kingdom of God isn’t a situation of obligation where each of us makes our finest dish and brings it as the cost of entry. It’s a feast laid out by the generosity of the Father, a lavish display of bounty available to all who respond to the invitation.

When I think about God, I get caught up sometimes thinking that I’ve got to earn His kindness by doing enough to deserve His provision… but that’s not the Gospel.

When we come to the feast of God, we come broken, empty, without merit, without right or demand. We come to behold that glorious exchange in action.

Where I bring all my weakness, He gives strength that is more than sufficient (Php 4:13, 2 Cor 12:9-10)

Where I have lack, He has abundance (Php 4:19, Rom 8:32).

When I am anxious, He gives peace (Isa 26:3, 1Pet 5:7).

For my ashes, He gives beauty. In my sorrow, He gives joy. (Isa 61:3)

He has put out a feast of blessings for those who simply respond to the call, and He is ready to dish out seconds, thirds, and then some to those who ask in faith.

Now we have received not the spirit that is in the world, but the Spirit who is from God, so that we may know the things freely given to us by God. -2nd Corinthians 2:12

When I shared these thoughts as a lay-person, we were about to sing a beautiful song called Spirit of the Living God.

We are meant to know all that God has given us through Christ. When I get this idea of God’s invitation and provision, it changes things for me. It’s not about working up some kind of fervor or working into some kind of favor. I’m not meant to work myself into the ground to show my dedication and prove I deserve some kindness from the angry God looking down at my pathetic plea.

When I think of God’s arms extended in welcome, and the Glorious Exchange, it changes what I’m looking for, what I think I need, what I want, what I even see as available to me. When His Spirit works in me to know what exactly He has done, what all He has taken off my shoulders and out of my hands, and what He has given to replace the trash and mess I didn’t even want anymore, then that makes anything seem possible.

Worship

Happy ??th Birthday to my wife

Leave a comment

My lovely wife just celebrated a birthday in the midst of what’s probably the biggest transition we’ve ever experienced as a couple.

She has been a rock of stability for our family and a wonderful blessing to me in so many ways.

While we go through these changes, there have been some surprise obstacles and hurdles, but there are also some glorious moments of joy, blessing, and rest.

Someone I know, who is going through far more complicated and troubling circumstances than I ever have, expressed his heart this way (I’m paraphrasing):

Yes, all this trouble is a lot to handle and I feel overwhelmed at times. But God has been too good, too present, and too gracious for me to stay in that place.

That’s definitely how I’m feeling. Here’s how my wife is doing:

Reflections
General

Flowers Wither

1 Comment

Like many couples, my wife and I have discussed the value of flowers as a gift to express love.

Of course, a good arrangement is beautiful, and it’s culturally customary, and if you do some research, you can communicate a lot of great sentiments with the flower selection and color choice.

But they’re expensive, and they die quickly, and also they’re expensive, and then they’re useless and dead.

I’m not biased at all. These are objective facts. (/sarcasm)

My wife’s Facebook post of her gift, with an added sparkly filter.

As we headed toward my retirement ceremony, I thought about what I had seen couples do during their celebrations. Usually the active duty spouse gives the other spouse a floral arrangement or some similar token of thanks for all the support that makes being married while working in the military possible.

I certainly wanted to express my gratitude for all my wife has done and continues to do. People often ask, “Does your wife work?” And it’s like, “Yes, of course she does. She deals with four children every day while I’m sitting in my office or on a jet. She handles the whole household while I go off for months to fly missions somewhere else in the world. On top of maintaining and managing a home, she homeschools the kids – because she wants to, not because I’ve ever asked. I can go to work and focus on my job because I know I don’t have to worry about what the boys are up to, or what’s happening at home.”

For over twenty years of marriage, she has stuck with me through all the ups and downs and sideways corkscrews of life. When everything goes pear-shaped or when we’re flying above the storms, she is there, supporting and encouraging no matter what.

But flowers. They’re just going to wither. They’re going in the trash a week or two later. What’s the point?

At first, Jami and I thought about using something like the platinum-covered rose I bought her. Something that says, “Yes, flowers, but actually one that will last.”

Because, hey, eternal love and “not wasting money” and all that obviously super-romantic thought put into this expression of thanks (more sarcasm, I hope you could tell).

Later, Jami said, “You know, maybe it’s selfish, but I think I want some flowers. Is that wrong?” This is my wife, who is worried that after twenty plus years as a military spouse, it’s not right or perhaps too much for her to get the spotlight and a simple bouquet of roses and carnations.

“Of course I can get you flowers. This is your celebration too.” That’s what I think I said.

“God, I hope they’re not TOO expensive,” or something similar, is what I’m ashamed to admit I thought.

It wasn’t until I was standing in the room with chairs arranged and people filing in for the ceremony that my slow and stupid brain finally clicked into gear and understood.

Yes, flowers wither. Yes, they’re temporary. You can’t buy one and have it last, expressing forever the sentiment when it was given.

But that’s how our love works. It’s not an “I said ‘I love you’ when we got married, dear” kind of thing.

Love is expressed in the day-to-day decisions, the small sacrifices and acts of service, all the little things we so quickly forget which add up to a confidence and certainty that wow, this person really does like me.

Plenty of military marriages don’t make it. I’m not judging or assuming anything about them, but I know that my wife kept choosing, day after day, to show her love for me through consistent decisions and deeds that proved her commitment.

That’s all any of us can do to build a real relationship — keep doing the small things, the messy jobs, the hard decisions, the stuff we easily ignore in favor of something flashy or showy.

Love is expressed day by day. At any point, the relationship can wither and die if left unattended, if not nurtured, if not refreshed.

Maybe flowers that wither are exactly the right kind of way to say, “I love you.” Maybe I needed that reminder that saying it once with a big gift isn’t the same as saying it every day with small but meaningful acts of service and devotion.

General

New Year, New Me (Really!)

2 Comments
The apple comes from our squadron’s history flying COMBAT APPLE missions, and normally is a red apple with 100 in the center, to signify that you’ve flown 100+ flights locally while a part of our unit. I had 753 total flights, most of them from Kadena, so I made my retirement patch a golden apple with 750 to commemorate the milestone.

We joke about the “new year, new me” phrase people hashtag or share, and I suppose there must be some people who actually use that unironically.

For me, it’s more true this year than it probably will ever be!

As of 1 January, I am officially retired from the United States Air Force after 24 years of service!

I posted some time ago about all the chaos and upheaval in my life, and how that would affect my writing and my activity on my site… but I had no idea what a mess of paperwork and bureaucracy I would be wading through to reach this point!

We’re not even done yet, as a family, but we’re close. Over the next few days, we’ll hopefully sort out details like driving legally, closing out our old home, and proving that yes in fact I do have a job that requires me to be on Okinawa.

The next month or so will be full of forms and procedures to get me back into the building I just left last week, along with finalizing all the details of military pay and housing expenses. That said, now that the hectic holidays and (most of) the terrifying transition to civilian life are behind us, I can start posting here and getting back to the writing I so often claim I love.

Over the next few posts, I’ll capture my thoughts about retirement (my coworkers are awesome and took great care of me), and I definitely want to show off the view from our new place at Toguchi Beach on Okinawa.

Wishing you all the best in the new year!

— D-Will

Writing

Fan Farewell

2 Comments

On Friday afternoon, one of my coworkers celebrated escaping moving on from the military.

She’s the wonderful individual who routinely asks me in a friendly but annoyed tone, “Where’s my book, sir?”

Though I never have a good answer to that question, I thought at least I could give something personal and special as a thank you for all the encouragement that her persistence has given me.

I drew up the three main characters of my fantasy series–Josephine, the Soulforged holy warrior; Kaalistera, the shadow-bending assassin; and Lyllithe, the outcast Devoted touched by the Void. It’s hastily-drawn and imperfect, but heartfelt.

When I presented her this gift, it led to a discussion with a couple of other co-workers, and my friend praised my book for its well-rounded characters and exciting action.

Of course, my initial reaction was to cringe a bit, shrug my shoulders, and deflect the praise, because I see all the flaws and mistakes where I should have spent more time to put out a better product.

However, it’s always a meaningful and special experience when someone expresses genuine interest in your creative work.

If you know someone who is involved in creative endeavors, you can show them a little love and spark them to put in the work with a simple expression of interest.

“What have you been drawing lately?”

“How’s writing going?”

“What’s your band playing next?”

“Where is my book, sir?”

Then endure their awkward look of embarrassment, nod politely, and let them continue on their way–probably with a smile on their face.

If nothing else, you might get a drawing out of it.

Writing

Christmas Present to Me

1 Comment

So NaNoWriMo is over, and I have another 50,000 words down on my future military / psychic reconnaissance novel. A few middle and ending scenes need to be filled in, and it’s all a disordered jumble in one document at the moment. But I’m happy to have completed my 2nd NaNoWriMo event.

  
I learned (or re-learned) a few things along the way, which I’ll post over the next month. 

But more importantly (to me), this frees me up to focus on revising and publishing my fantasy novel that I finished in late Spring. Thanks to several very helpful and thoughtful first readers, I have some solid suggestions on fixes and changes.

I’m going to start posting the first few chapters as a lead-up to the book being publically available online–which should happen by Christmas. It’s my present to me… and maybe to some of my friends who are already after me to work on book 2. 

If all goes well, this year’s group of Okinawa NaNo participants will also form a monthly writers’ group–something we wanted to do last year but couldn’t due to various military commitments and obligations. I’m ecstatic, since I maintain that’s the absolute best way to grow as a writer. I enjoy it so much I wrote a book about it, called Elements of Critique. 

And sadly, when I look at the news out of my hometown Chicago and other places around the States, I see very little has changed from the stories dominating the headlines last year. When I completed my first NaNoWriMo, racial tensions and community relations occupied my mind. More importantly, I could not ignore the wide gulf of animosity I saw on social media between people holding opposing viewpoints. And I wondered if anyone really considered the hurting families and broken lives in the aftermath of Ferguson and other flare-ups of racial tension. My book, Not to the Swift, is my effort to understand and empathize as a fellow father, husband, human. Seeing or considering what others go through reminded me how much I have to be thankful for. 

I hope Thanksgiving and the oncoming holiday season find you well and give you the chance to count your blessings. Maybe that can be another Christmas present we give ourselves. Gratitude and contentment seem truly counter-cultural in the West, so this is our chance to be ironic hipsters and go against the flow.

Grateful always for your time and attention,

Dave

Culture/Politics

At Least

1 Comment

Packing a bag again for a few days away from home. At least it’s not months.

Explaining to my 4 year old that I’ll be gone for a little while. At least I’m leaving when he’s awake and I get to say bye for now. 

Cancelling my leave that was scheduled for six months in advance because “we don’t have the bodies.” At least I didn’t spend any money on it and it’s not use-or-lose leave that might disappear on October 1st.

Stepping onto a plane for the 11th time in 13 days. At least I’m supposed to get some down time later this month.

Hitting my maximum allowable flight hours within a particular period and then got the waiver to just fly more. At least they’re still paying attention to the rules. At least we’re not in a situation like combat where dire and urgent need trumps the regulations for routine missions.

Flying several days for questionable reasons with little chance of accomplishing the mission. At least it was with a good crew that is in the same frustrating circumstance with me, so our individual miseries have great company.

Landing each day with enough time to get home, sleep, and go do it again the next day. At least the schedule changed so I usually see my kids’ faces for a few minutes before they go to bed or before I leave for work.

At least I am coming home each day (usually). At least I am not in a combat zone, threatened in the air or hunkered down on the ground. At least my family is well taken care of, and at least my wife is unquestioningly supportive and undeservedly patient.

I often joke that “I love my job” when there are reasons to complain. At least there are parts of it that I really do love.

Not all our servicemembers can say the same. Not all of them can claim the “at leasts” that I can. My heartfelt thanks to my brothers and sisters in arms in crappier places working longer hours doing harder jobs in worse conditions. Much appreciation also to the family members, friends, and loved ones who provide that support to the men and women wearing America’s various uniforms. You all make me proud.

I raised my right hand and swore an oath of my own free will. At least I serve a nation that–while admittedly imperfect–rewards honorable service in support of lofty ideals instead of demanding subservience to the whims of a dictator or ideology.

I’ll settle for these things today.

Culture/Politics

Thanks for Your Service

1 Comment

Bangor, Maine is a popular stop on the itinerary for various trips I’ve taken around the world.

The best aspect of the trip (to me) is that every time I’ve come through, I’ve been warmly greeted by a small assembly of retired military members, veterans and just plain folk with a firm handshake, a smile, and a “Thanks for your service.”

But tonight we showed up after 11 PM, figuring the airport would be closed.

Nope.

Applause and cheers echoed down the hall as my companions and I made our way to the waiting area. Probably a dozen plus men and women stood at the door to catch us as we came in.

After 11 PM.

I’m old enough, even I want to be in bed after 11 PM.

I answered each of them with “Thank you for your service.” Because some of them served–probably at times with harder challenges and more demands placed on them than rest on me. And all of them took the time to come out and show some gratitude to men and women currently serving the nation.

That means something, and it’s worthy of thanks.

There are still grateful people in America, and it's appreciated.
There are still grateful people in America, and it’s appreciated.

The picture is blurry, sorry.

My eyes were a little blurry too.