Share Four Somethings—October 2022

Near the end of each month, I share four somethings at Heather’s.

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Something Loved

  • SWEET PUMPKINS

Last year I had a wonderful day taking our oldest granddaughter to the pumpkin patch. This year we got to pick out pumpkins with our grandson. Jeff and I had such a good morning with him. Seeing our little ones smile is sure to make me smile, too. 

 ~ * ~ * ~ * ~

Something Gleaned 

  • TRUTHS FROM DC

Jeff and I got home Wednesday after a week in Washington, DC. Last Saturday we toured the US Holocaust Memorial Museum, which was as hard as I expected it to be. But it’s also important to never forget it happened.

“The next time you witness hatred, the time time you see injustice, the next time you hear about genocide, think about what you saw.”
– US Holocaust Memorial Museum

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On Sunday we visited the National Museum of African American History and Culture. It also was excruciatingly painful to see the horrible ways that humans can treat each other. It’s never what God intends for us. 

But here again, even though it’s horrible, it’s important to bear witness to this, too. It did happen. Let’s not forget. May we never repeat. 

“If now isn’t a good time for the truth, I don’t see when we’ll get to it.”
– Nikki Giovanni

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National Museum of African American History and Culture

We also spent time in the Library of Congress, the US Capitol, Ford’s Theatre where President Lincoln was shot, and the International Spy Museum.

My feet were totally exhausted at the end of each day, even with the help of the Metro to transport us from place to place (once we figured it out again; it’s always a learning curve for us country folk from the south).

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Something Braved

  • MY WRITING CRITIQUED

We take turns critiquing each other’s writing in the mastermind writing group I’m participating in this fall. My writings were on the chopping block last week. I was nervous that it would be painful to have my “darlings” murdered.

But to the contrary, when the suggestions started rolling in, I was surprised at how wonderfully exhilarating it was. Receiving so many helpful edits to improve the chapters I’m working on was encouraging. I’m grateful for the gentleness, grace, and expertise shared by the women in this group. I feel God’s love from their words and attitudes.

~ * ~ * ~ * ~

Something Achieved

  • OUT OF THE DARKNESS WALK

This cause is personal. Like most of us, I have friends and family members who have been suicidal.

To continue learning how to support those who struggle, I participated on a beautiful Sunday afternoon this month in the Out of the Darkness community walk alongside my local Moms Demand Action group. We walked for two miles in support of our loved ones and for donations to the American Foundation for Suicide Prevention.

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What did you do in October?

Share in the comments. 


Are you impatient with your impatience?

Be-patient-with-yourself

I had finished my shower, put on clean clothes, and was brushing my teeth before leaving for breakfast. My outside was clean.

But on the inside, I was still a mess.

I was dreading a potential outcome. Complaining about a person. Whining about an annoyance.

It’s the attitude. It’s what gets me.

And I knew it was bad. I told myself, “I’m pathetic,” completing the loop, passing judgment not only on others, but also on myself.

So when I read these words in an e-newsletter from Richard Rohr about Thérèse of Lisieux, I copied them down.

I share them today with you, in case you’re ever impatient with yourself, like I am, for quicker transformation.

When Thérèse, even at her young age, became assistant to the novice mistress, she counseled one sister who was impatient with her own impatience: “Sister, can you be willing to be patient with yourself until God gives you the willingness to be patient with the other sisters?”

I’m grateful that the grace we’re called to give others is the same grace that God wants us to give ourselves.

  • Be patient with your impatience.
  • Be grace-filled toward your gracelessness.
  • Be non-judgmental about your judgmentalism.

We may not always behave cleanly—we (and others) show up messy every day—because of our human frailties. But we are clean because Jesus has said so. We are each loved by God, just as we are.

Whether we can see our insides or not, we can trust that Jesus is still growing us, daily, into more loving human beings, even when progress is slower than we’d like.

There is enough grace for everybody.

Including ourselves.


Is it hard for you to give compassion to yourself? Please share here.

revised from the archives


Are You Being Nudged Toward a 2023 One Word? {October One Word Linkup}

October Linkup One Word 2022

Share Your One Word Update

Link your One Word blog post below. Share an update about your One Word in the comments.

New One Word for 2023?

You only have about 2 months left with your 2022 word. Has it been productive for you?

It’s not too soon to be thinking about your One Word for 2023.

Are you getting ideas of what your new word will be? Or if you want to choose a word again?

Use this month to see if your 2022 word is leading you into a new word for 2023. Or, now that you can see the bigger picture, see how your 2021 word may have brought you to your 2022 word.

Finding any connections?

We’d love to hear your reflections. Add a blog post below related to anything about One Words and/or leave a comment.

This One Word linkup will remain open through Monday night, October 31.

The next One Word linkup opens on Tuesday, November 22.

Every One Word blog post that you link is shared in our One Word Facebook group throughout the month.


Leave a comment here about your One Word.

Link Up About Your One Word!

You are invited to the Inlinkz link party!

Click here to enter


If You Don’t Save It Now, You Won’t Have to Release It Later

Life is a balance between holding on and letting go.
– Rumi

I wake up one morning and can’t find it anywhere. It’s missing.

My To Do email folder is gone. It’s disappeared, no longer in my sidebar of folders on my computer email.

I panic.

This is bad. Very bad. My To Do email folder is my digital holding place. It’s where I transfer emails that need more time from me, things for later, not now.

Maybe you know the type of things:

  • A newsletter with links I want to click…later
  • A Kohl’s coupon I might want to use…later
  • An AT&T bill that needs double-checking…later
  • A library book hold I need to decide about…later
  • A video I want to watch…later

I like having a To Do folder as much as I like having a To Do list. It’s a place to set things down. Get them out of my brain but still in a retrievable place. It’s like that flat surface in the kitchen where we set down unread mail or a pack of gum or a form that needs returning.

These items gather on our counters and in corners and closets. They are the “I don’t know yet” things. We’ll need them later. Or we think we might.

We mainly just don’t want to deal with them right now.

So we set them aside.

It clears our brain to know these items are safely preserved for later, but don’t have to be dealt with this moment.

But when the whole stack just disappears, like my To Do email folder? I can immediately envision all the things that I’ll forget I needed to do.

I google what to do when an email folder disappears. Maybe I’ve been hacked? I change my google password everywhere, just to be safe.

I check my phone email. I catch a quick glimpse of the folder (it’s there!??), but watch it then disappear before my eyes as the mail app updates to sync with my computer. No!

Then I start looking at other email folders, one by one. Will they start disappearing too? They don’t.

That’s when I notice something strange. In my Blog Stuff email folder, there is something suspicious. Another folder is embedded in this folder.

It’s my To Do folder!

I open it up. All my emails are still there. Whew! I must have moved the folder there by mistake the day before. I now move the folder back to its regular position in the stack.

But do I do anything with any of the To Do emails? Nope. Just a quick glance to assure myself they will still open.

Yet I was so concerned about losing them. Why, if I don’t care to use them?

That’s a question I’ve asked myself often during this year of Release for me. I hate to lose what I already have. It’s human. It’s actually even scientifically proven. Once we’ve been gifted even a free tote bag we’ll never use, we’re reluctant to let it go once it becomes “mine.”

So what about all the other things I’m not using (like most of the emails in my To Do folder)? If’ I’d never saved them (or “owned” them) in the first place, would I go out of my way to hunt down this information?

Most of the time, no.

Cutting the cord to things we’re attached to is never easy. But maybe life would be easier in the long run if we attach to less things in the short run.

Maybe that’s one huge lesson of RELEASE for me: Stop saving unneeded things in the first place. Don’t try to own things I won’t use or don’t need. End the pileups. Then I won’t have to let them go later.

Granted, the hard part is the first everyday decision with each email, each item, each opportunity.

  • Keep or throw away?
  • Store or delete?
  • Buy or pass by?

But using clearer discernment in the beginning might reduce the losses in the end. Time is short. More presence now produces less burdens later.

That doesn’t mean we don’t hold on to important things; we need to do that. And when we’re not sure, it’s safer to keep something, to wait and see, instead of immediately tossing it. God will guide us.

I look at my freshly restored To Do emails now with fresh eyes.

Maybe I shouldn’t have even saved most of them in the first place. Do I really need an email telling me about the latest British TV series recommended by the Holstee newsletter (that I’ll never watch anyway)? No. I can delete that email now. And another email. And another.

I want to do myself a favor this week. At least when it comes to email, I’ll try not to save unnecessary ones. I’ll release them up front.

My future self will thank me later.

If you don't save it now, you won't have to release it later.


What have you had to release this year? Share in the comments.

More posts here on RELEASE.

One Word Release 2022


First you listen. Then you act.

First you listen. Then you act.

She says it aloud to no one in particular, “I need a ride home.”

I ask her when she needs to leave. She says after she talks to Mrs F. Let me know when you’re ready, I tell her. I’ll take you.

I’m not proud of myself for my willingness to do it. I’m excited I thought of it at all.

Because often I don’t even think of it.  

And especially in the moment. Maybe the idea will come later. Oh! I could have done that for her! By then, I’ve missed the opportunity for action.

My preemptive roadblocks of fear and selfishness and pride often choke off the action before it has a chance to surface.

Granted, having a homeless friend and knowing what she needs hasn’t exactly been a thought to consider until the past decade of my life.

How can I know what to do for somebody so different from me?

First, I have to listen.  

  • I have to hear with ears wide open.
  • I have to see with eyes looking deeper.
  • I have to love with a heart gaping bare.

Then I can act.

I have to be watchful for the extraordinary to grab my attention. 

A half hour later, I get word my friend is ready to leave. She has a guy friend with her who also needs a ride back to under the bridge.

I ask his name as he gets into the car. He tells me, but he’s quiet. I ask a few more questions, wanting him to know I’m listening, not wanting him more wary of me than I am of him.

He needs to know he’s being heard. Everybody needs that.

My friend tells me to turn left at the light. It still feels weird letting them out at the curb, watching them melt invisible into the city. But they’re fine with it; it’s me still adjusting.

And I almost missed it.

I roll down my windows and drive away, wondering how in the world I know so little about the world. So little about the varied kinds of people in it. So little about how people work among themselves, in and around others alike and different.

I seek better hearing in the moments of opportunity. 

So I can . . .

  • Learn more.
  • Live more.
  • Love more.

Because when I don’t listen, I don’t act.
And when I don’t act,
I miss out on Love.

* * *

Share you thoughts about listening and loving in the comments.

revised from the archives

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Here Is the Church?

Here is the church
Here is the steeple
Open the door
And see all the people

It’s another Saturday morning. A cold one.

A few years ago, the first Saturday of the month meant Jeff and I would be at Outdoor Church behind Manna House. It’s a gathering for those who don’t feel comfortable and/or welcome inside the “houses of worship” sprinkled throughout the city, for those who believe and for those who don’t believe but are hungry for a free meal.

I can’t say I know how they feel. I’ve generally felt welcome in any church building I’ve visited.

But then again, I can play the part. Clean clothes. Showered body. Arrival in a heated SUV.

These folks at Outdoor Church on Saturdays come mainly by foot. Some with alcohol on their breath. Or an empty belly. Or a demon they’re trying to outrun. (Not that different from Sunday morning in a traditional church?)

And today, once again, I’m questioning my role.

I stand in the bedroom of my house early that morning, after putting on three layers of shirts and a couple pairs of socks, and ask Jeff, “Tell me again why I’m going?”

I’ve caught him at a weak moment, too. Today we’re both strongly pulled to spend our Saturday on personal projects at home.

But Jeff finds a motivating answer, “Because there’s somebody there you can love on.”

I’m sold. I get in the car. We drive into town.

But when we get there, we’re alone.

No volunteers’ cars are in the parking lot preparing a hot meal for the hungry after the service. No chairs are set up outside for the guests. No guitars are set up for the worship band.

No people anywhere.

This is why I came? For canceled church? Where is this stranger I was supposed to love on?

Actually, it might not be a stranger. Maybe instead it’s someone I know quite well. Someone who needed a push out the door to put her mind on other things. Someone who needed to prepare her heart to serve even if there would be no one there to serve.

Maybe, just maybe, I was there to know that even when it’s just God and me, we still “have church.” Just being together is church.

So Jeff and I drive on. Drop a few books off at the library. Meander the back roads home. Take off all the extra layers.

And feel satisfied.

There will be people gathered at Outdoor Church again another day. But on this Saturday, waking up again to God in me, rediscovering the house of God inside my own body—I love knowing it can happen anytime, anywhere. Without doors, without steeples. And sometimes even without people.

Where is the church?

It’s here.
It’s now.
In me.

And it’s full.

Here is the church?


Where have you seen God lately? Share in the comments.

revised from the archives