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Dig deep

4/24/2018

"Gardens grow and evolve the way relationships do." Michael Cooke, Landscape Gardener

You might say gardening is in my blood. I inherited it from my father. When my father was 14 he began work reforesting the mountains that embraced the valley where he lived in South Wales, mountains that had been denuded by the mines that sustained the town. There grew in his heart a passionate love of trees and plants and he handed it on to me.

I was just three when I began pottering with him in the garden. Like his little shadow, I dug in the soil, learning how to plant seeds and bulbs and then waiting excitedly for their tiny green leaves to peep through the ground. As I grew, so did my understanding of gardening.

I have a lifetime of tilling the soil behind me now and when I read the quote above, I realised how true it is. Whether it's a friendship, a marriage or a family, relationships, like gardens, need tending constantly if they are to grow and remain strong.

And tending takes time. It takes me a good hour and a half to water my garden because I know shallow watering does more harm than good. Deep watering drives the roots deep into the soil so the plants are anchored and grow strong, able to withstand the heat and storms that inevitably come. Sometimes it feels like a chore, especially when there are another 101 things I need to do, but I make it a priority because I love my garden and want it to thrive.

And like me, plants need regular feeding if they are to flourish, not once-now-and-then-when-I-think-of-it sort of feeding but diligent, disciplined feeding to keep the plant vibrant and healthy. Relationships are no different. We can neglect them because of busyness or thoughtlessness but they will deteriorate, just like the garden.

I've learnt from hard experience which plants thrive in full sun and which need dapple shade, which ones need copious amounts of water and those that don't and which ones need acid soil and those that need alkaline. Each plant is different and they're all unique, just like people.

I'm an introvert and anyone who expects me to be the life of the party will be sorely disappointed. I would love to be extroverted and outgoing but that's not who I am. But I am a listener, a reflector and I'd love to sit with you one on one and share your heart. Thankfully we are all different and each of us brings colour and texture to the blossoming of our relationships. Maybe the richest part of any relationship is the coming to know, understand and value our differences.

Great relationships, like great gardens require an investment, not only of my time, but a giving of my self. A willingness to nurture and cherish the other person and take joy in helping them blossom into the best they can be. Not waiting for the other person to take the initiative but being creative in finding ways to nourish the relationship.

We all have a tendency to give the other person what we think they want or what we'd like someone to do for us and that can miss them completely. Perhaps this is the hardest work of all, putting myself aside long enough to really know the other person's heart.

Gardening is never finished — weeding, feeding, pruning, mulching. Pruning takes courage but over the years I've discovered it's the secret to a good garden. I've helped friends prune their roses and remember the look of shock on their face as I reduce a large bush to a stump just a few inches from the ground but I assure them they will have the best roses next summer. It's not easy to be honest with each other or to take that honesty to heart myself but tough love is the path to deep meaningful relationship that thrive. The harvest is worth every ounce of my investment.

"Bold love is courageously setting aside our personal agenda to move humbly into the world of others with their well-being in view, willing to risk further pain in our souls, in order to be an aroma of life to some and an aroma of death to others." Dan Allender

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The power of one

4/17/2018

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In a small corner of a church hall in Poole, in southern England, Jenny Donovan is changing lives two feet at a time. Bending over a bowl, she washes the feet of homeless people, cuts their toenails and does what she can to heal the damage she finds. “Some of them are in terrible condition”, she says, “Their shoes are full of holes and often soaking wet”.

Jenny is a semi-retired chiropodist who is giving her time to make life a little bit easier for those forced to live on the street. She likes to send them off with a new pair of socks and has been buying new shoes for those who need them, but that was getting a bit beyond her financially. She’s now being helped with donations through Routes to Roots, a Christian organisation ministering to homeless people, regardless of their faith.

One man said to Jenny, “I can’t believe you do this for us”. She replied, “Everyone has a gift and if we all used our gifts to help people wherever we are, the world would be a better place”.

Brian Grazer is an Academy Award-winning producer who has created some of the world’s most iconic movies, A Beautiful Mind, Apollo 13, Splash, and many others. But Brian may not have become the person he is today if it hadn’t been for his grandmother.

School was a struggle because he was dyslexic. He remembers his report cards were peppered with the word ‘Fail’. But his 4 foot 10 inch Jewish grandmother refused to see him as a failure and would constantly tell him, “Brian, you have the gift of curiosity”.

He said, “You just need one person, one person who believes in you”. That one person gave him the courage to believe in himself. Curiosity became the fire that fuelled his rise to become one of Hollywood’s outstanding producers. In 2007 he was named one of Time’s “100 Most Influential People in the World”

He has now written a book called, The Curious Mind. It shares his insights from 35 years of interviewing people across the broad spectrum of life, curious about their story and what made them tick. He has interviewed artists, spies, members of the royal family, politicians, scientists and anyone who sparked his curiosity. And all because someone believed in him.

Hannah More was a best-selling playwright and author, outselling Jane Austen ten times over. This propelled her into the upper echelons of London society. In 1785, she met William Wilberforce and they become firm friends. “She understood that the culture in which one lived was as much or more influenced by the arts as by legislature.” Eric Metaxas

While Wilberforce continued to petition parliament, Hannah knew that would never be enough, the minds and hearts of the population must be changed. She took on that role. She wrote and published many pamphlets and articles encouraging people to see the African slave as a human being, a brother, son, father, mother, daughter.

Her strong poetic abilities enabled her to paint a picture which people related to, and it worked. Eventually thousands of petitions were signed for the abolition of slavery and presented to parliament by Wilberforce, which help sway the members towards abolition. Who can count the generations of people whose lives were changed because she used her gift of writing to change the hearts of a generation?

Something beautiful is brewing. Two women in the UK wanted to do something about the many elderly people for whom loneliness is a constant companion. Their solution, two teapots. They figured that if they could just get people together for a chance to chat and laugh over a cup of tea, friendships could be made and at least for that short time, loneliness would be replaced with connection. It worked, and the results have been amazing. The two ladies call themselves, The Travelling Teapots.

“What will I do with the fact that I am only one? I will realise that everyone who has changed history was also only one.” Craig Lounsborough

We so often underestimate the power of what we have to offer. Whether washing feet from the corner of a church hall, inspiring and challenging with the written word, being that one person who believes in someone, or providing a cup of tea and scones for lonely people, we can all make a difference wherever we are, with whatever we have.

Wherever your neck of the woods, there is someone who needs a human touch, a listening ear, a hand with the gardening, a lift to an appointment or someone to give them time … time that lets them know they are valued. That might be your child or grandchild or the elderly person at the end of the street, but the gift of our time is often the most costly and most valuable gift of all.

And if you can’t find anyone, nursing homes are scattered with people who have no one to visit, no one to care, beyond the all too busy staff, no one to brighten their day and connect them to the world they feel so separated from.

As Jenny Donovan says, “Everyone has a gift and if we all used our gifts to help people wherever we are, the world would be a better place”.

http://www.bbc.com/news/av/uk-england-dorset-43671269/the-dorset-chiropodist-healing-homeless-people-s-feet

A special thank you to the kind people who agreed to be photographed for this blog.

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Windows on the world

4/10/2018

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My mother battled cancer for 25 years but it was only in the last few weeks of her life that she needed full time nursing care. I was able to get her into a single room in a nursing home. Many times she thanked me for getting her a room of her own and most importantly, with a window.

Beyond the narrowing walls of her life, she was still able to feel a part of the world outside. The sun streaming through that window seemed to warm her frail frame and cheer her failing heart. I thought a lot about windows during those weeks as I sat beside her bed.

I realised we see the world beyond the window through the lens of our current life. We see it from our perspective. My mother looking out at the end of life, finding comfort in a blue sky and trees waving in the wind ... a child waiting with anticipation at the window for daddy to come home or someone on holidays, curled up by the fire, watching soft rain pattering on the windowpane. The view changes with the direction of our life.

And I realised that windows look in both directions. While we look out on the world, we look in at life. Windows are our eyes and ears on the world if we take the time to look.

It wasn’t until I slowed the car and rolled down the windows that I realised I spend most of my days driving ‘through’ life without driving ‘in’ life. So, I’ve decided to walk because the pace is slower and the windows are always down. Craig Lounsbrough

Maybe we need to wind down the windows more often and take in the view and stop to wonder.

Driving with the windows down ... I love it! Its a long time since this car hit the road but despite so much of it falling apart, the windows remain and the view is great.

Waves lap the shore ... the air heavy with a the smell of salt, fish and wet nets. If you peered through the window you might see the old fisherman hoeing into a hearty breakfast after a long night at sea. It was all there, the story of Brittany, told in a window as surely as if in the pages of a child's storybook.

I was trundling along in a bus in downtown San Francisco when this image caught my eye. I jumped out at the next stop and ran back to take a photo. It was inviting and intriguing. Was it a burglar escaping with his heist? A young man escaping thorough the window after his parents had grounded him? I like to think the oversized shoe is a sign that whoever he was, he was out for adventure.

Airing the cushions or a a delightful window seat? What a great place to sit curled up with a good book watching the world go by. I love the shutters thrown open to let in the world and wonder who pulls them closed when nighttime falls?

Someone's been for a morning swim. Mother and daughter, sisters, friends? I wonder about these women and the lives they lead in this city of water. Like so much of Europe, the window is the only access to drying the washing - its a way of life.

If you'd peeped through the windows of this Romanesque building in the early 1900s, you would have seen a Coffee Palace (hotel), concert hall, shops and warehouses. In 1930s you'd have found offices for Sydney City Council, and the City Library. Between1959-1971 it was almost demolished. It is now a fully restored shopping complex called QVB and the original windows are truly magnificent.

Windows overlooking Westerham, home town of Sir Winston Churchill

Magnificent windows in Bassano del Grappa

'Garden" window in Rome

Historic window in Prague 1580

This window has a sad story. The curtains tell a tale of disintegration of a home; perhaps a relationship. I wonder what happened, when the love stopped; who stopped caring?

Every window has a story. Behind each window there is love and dreams, plans and disappointments, grief and loss, joy and successes. Sometimes there's chaos and more often order. But always there's people just like you and me trying to live life the best way they can.

We are all windows to each other. I can peer at you through the glass pane or open the window wide and not only see you more clearly but allow you to discover me in the full light of day. I can choose to take the time to get to know your story and offer you mine.

Real relationships are the product of time spent, which is why so many of us have so few of them. Craig Lounsbrough

NOTE: I have been asked several times if I would send my blog link to people's email as the link on Facebook disappears down the feed so quickly. I am happy to do that if you want to send me your email address to either Private Message on FB or to glensmovin@hotmail.com. I will not send anything else but the blog link each Tuesday. A huge thank you to all those who encourage me by reading the blog.

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A haunting voice

4/3/2018

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We all know the haunting voice of shame. That nagging whisper that says you aren’t good enough, smart enough, pretty enough, strong enough; too thin, too fat, that in some way you are inadequate or failed again.

Well shame seems to have been following me around this week. It all started with last week’s blog post receiving the smallest readership in a long time and shame had a field day. Then I went to see the movie, The Mercy, which graphically portrayed the unimaginable power of shame.

It’s a true story about Donald Crowhurst, a loving husband and adored father but a man who hasn’t had a lot of success in life. Unable to make it in the Air Force or Army, he turned to business. As the story begins its clear that wasn’t going well either.

Donald was an amateur sailor and Sir Francis Chichester was his hero. When the Sunday Times launched the Golden Globe round-the-world yacht race in 1968, Donald began to imagine following in Chichester’s footsteps and winning the 5000 pound prize money which would save his business from financial ruin.

He mortgaged his home and business to finance the journey. But Donald didn’t have the skills or experience required for such a dangerous and demanding undertaking and he quickly discovered that his boat was totally inadequate. The trip was a disaster and he was making little headway so he hatched a plan to falsify his positions so people would think he was further along than he actually was.

Alone with the relentlessness of the sea, a boat falling apart, desperate loneliness and depression, he decided that he couldn't keep going. But he couldn't face going back either, the humiliation of not finishing the trip, the exposure of his dishonesty and seeing his family destitute; the shame was too great. He committed suicide.

Death was preferable to facing shame.

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Then nationally this week we were invited into a conversation about shame around a cricket pitch. I don’t follow cricket or any sport, except for the Australian Open, but I was angry and deeply disappointed in Steve Smith’s lack of integrity as captain of the team. I’m ashamed to say that I thought he should be sacked.

Then on Friday night, after what must have been the longest flight of their lives, I listened to Cameron Bancroft and Steve Smith face a media conference. I saw their shame, humiliation, remorse and grief but mostly I saw courage in their willingness to face their shame head on and be vulnerable before the media and the Australian people, accepting responsibility and asking for forgiveness. My anger and disappointment dissolved into respect. That’s what vulnerability does.

Vulnerability isn’t weakness but strength. Shame thrives in secrecy and silence and withers when exposed to the light. When I’m willing to be vulnerable and face my shame and share it, I not only discover I’m not alone, but realise that it looses its power over me.

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Shame drives me to perform, to achieve, do the right thing and make sure I never fail. I only have to listen to my self-talk to understand how shame is distorting who I really am. It can shape my identity and affect how I perceive myself and get in the way of my relationship with others and with God.

It can become my idol as I invest all my energies in making sure I‘ll never have to publicly face my shame. The only antidote is grace.

When by grace I know my identity as a child of God, shame need no longer define me, but instead God can use it to point to the areas in my life that need to be transformed. I won’t be free of shame in this life but I can face it, and refuse to let it have power over me. Then I am free to love others without any hidden agenda.

“There is no freer person in the world than one who can no longer be shamed.” John S Webb

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Dig deep

The power of one

Windows on the world

A haunting voice

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