Happy Advent messages
On Thanksgiving night, I was in my bed, cozy and thankful, my tummy still full of turkey, mashed potatoes, gravy, and wild rice. As I thought about the calendar turning to December and the Advent season, I asked God how I could share these four weeks of Advent with my four grandchildren (and with you!). He said to my heart, “Share your favorite Bible verses with them.” So, that’s what I’m doing.
Advent is the period of four Sundays and weeks before Christmas and means ‘Coming’ in Latin. This is the coming of Jesus into the world. I wanted to use the four Sundays and weeks of Advent to share my love for each grandchild (and for you!) and help us remember the real meaning of Christmas. God’s LOVE coming to us in Jesus. Advent is a time of expectant waiting, knowing fully the amazing gift God is about to deliver and yet, at the same time, a period of slowing down to savor the season. It’s an opportunity to set aside special moments to fully experience the joy and the miracle of Christmas, to focus on Christ’s birth.
These are my special moments for my four grandchildren: Advent “messages”:
December 3. Week One: You are strong.
You can do all things through Christ, who strengthens you. Philippians 4:13
The joy of the Lord is your strength. Nehemiah 8:10
Be strong in the Lord, and in the power of his might. Ephesians 6:10
The Lord is your strength and your shield; your heart trusts in him, and he helps you. Psalm 28:7
December 10. Week Two: You believe.
May the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace in believing, so that you may overflow with hope. Romans 15:13
You believe in him. You are filled with a joy that cannot be explained. And that joy is full of glory. 1 Peter 1:8
Jesus said to him. “All things are possible for the one who believes.” Mark 9:23
The Scriptures tell us that no one who believes in Christ will ever be disappointed. Romans 10:11
December 17. Week Three: You are prayed for (by Jobu!)
This is my prayer for you: that your love will grow more and more. Philippians 1:9
I haven’t stop praying for you, asking God to give you a wise mind and spirit. Colossians 1:9
I know your soul is doing well and I pray that you are doing fine in every way. 3 John 2
I can’t stop thanking God for you, every time I pray, I think of you and give thanks. Ephesians 1:15
December 24. Week Four: You are loved. (by God!)
God says, “I have loved you with a love that lasts forever. I have kept on loving you with a kindness that never fails. Jeremiah 31:3
God’s love has been poured into your heart through the Holy Spirit who has been given to you. Romans 5:5
But God is rich in mercy, and he loves you very much. Ephesians 2:4
Lord, show your love to us as we puts our hope in you. Psalm 33:22
As I cherish each of my dear grandchildren, may they (and YOU!) cherish these Advents messages with scriptures which I so cherish.
World Gratitude Day
<clears throat and announces> today is World Gratitude Day.
Life can be hard. I know.
But I also know this: the more we practice gratitude in the face of fear, adversity, loss and disappointment, the more we increase our capacity for joy, even bolstering our immune system and boosting resilience. Seriously. There have been studies!
And when our expectations collide with reality, gratitude can protect us from stress and even depression and help us create a new way of seeing, being and living.
Gratitude makes us nicer, more trusting, more social, and more appreciative. As a result, it helps us to be healthier, to make more friends, and to deepen our existing relationships.
And for me, it’s in the Bible: “Give thanks in all circumstances, for this is God’s will for you in Christ Jesus.”
Yes, life is still good and there can still be gratitude, even when difficult stuff happens.
After years of leaning into gratitude, I know I’ve only scratched the surface of this powerful principle. I realize my pursuit of gratitude isn’t an accident, as much as preparation for what has come my way during these last few years. Preparing to see me through – because when it comes to the struggles of life, we need gratitude to be our companion.
We all have own challenges and difficult days. Yet, even in my darkest days, my instinct is to feel grateful for the things that I do have and for the things that are going well. I let gratitude be the doorway to hope; once hopeful, I find strength and the will to take one small step that moves me to better and easier times.
Because this is what happens:
Words of gratitude lift us above circumstance.
Sometimes the wall of difficulties we face appears too tall to scale. But the presence of gratitude lifts and carries us. We become stronger, more agile, infused with what we need, not just to face the barrier, but to search for a way around or over that we hadn’t considered before.
Words of gratitude refocus our attention.
They change our perspective. We’re never off on the wrong foot when we step out in gratitude. We can’t think negatively when we focus on the positive. We’re less judgmental, resentful, or divisive when we’re thankful for our relationships (especially the complicated ones). Sometimes it’s easy to focus on our hurts or sorrows and miss all of the other places that good things are happening. It’s possible for good things and hard things to co-exist in our lives. We show wisdom when we can focus on being thankful and noticing the good, instead of concentrating on the bad.
Words of gratitude bring us joy.
Those who live in gratitude have the most joyful lives. It’s impossible to miss the joy when we’re on the lookout for blessings. We won’t miss out on the moments when we’re present and rooted in each one as it comes.
Time and time again, that’s what I discovered. I found that whenever I navigated any rough terrifying circumstances with gratitude—even through storms and difficult Joseph-experiences and hard places, I was encouraged, strengthened, braver.
So, my hope and prayer for today is that no matter what our struggles storms hurts dark places, that we’ll choose to face all with gratitude, with discovering ONE moment of thankfulness. A moment outside ourselves, above our circumstance. A moment looking for a blessing.
When we steer our way with gratitude, we declare that the darkness does not win.
Today: I challenge us to live from a place of gratitude and joy.
Let’s have more gratitude. More understanding. More compassion. More grace. More mercy. More community. More forgiveness. More kindness. More charitableness.
Let’s not be cruel or hurtful or selfish or judgmental or isolating or thankless or intolerant or vengeful or rude.
Let’s keep our perspective. Our humor. Our appreciation.
Let’s be brave.
Let’s fill our hearts and minds and souls with gratitude.
My love letter to Midwest Writers Workshop
My Midwest Writers Workshop story
I could go on and on about the impact Midwest Writers has had on my life. In some capacity, I’ve been part of MWW for 40+ of its 50 years — an attendee, a presenter, a committee member, and then director. MWW is part of who I am. And I am grateful. And now, my news: I am retiring as Director of Midwest Writers Workshop, passing on my leadership baton.
MWW is all about the people — the faculty, the planners, the writers. My people. My friends. Although I always found all my employments rewarding (as an English composition instructor at Ball State, as owner and operator of my own business, Bigger Writing Services, as an assistant at BSU’s E.B. & Bertha C. Ball Center, helping with Magna cum Murder Festival), I also always had so much passion and energy for my work with Midwest Writers. And the influence and friendship of committee members and authors didn’t just enhance my life, but that of my husband, my sons, my parents.
Here’s what I can tell you about why I love MWW, why attending a writer’s conference can help your writing journey…. or how I became one of the first MWW success stories ….
I never pitched an agent. I never wrote a proposal. I never wrote a query. I never mailed the manuscript to the publisher. I never submitted any sample writing, any biography, any synopsis. I never followed the professional protocols for turning a manuscript into a book. And yet, one day I received a phone call from an editor at Fleming H. Revell publishers. An editor I had never met. A publishing house I had never submitted to.
“I love the first chapter and the chapter The Date, and we want to publish your manuscript,” he said. (This call came two weeks before I got married. It was a very good summer!)
What? My manuscript? My untitled manuscript? Not your typical path to publication. But a pathway made possible because of my trips through Midwest Writers Workshop.
It was 1976 and I was a 20-year-old college student with a desire to write and an idea for a book, an English major at Ball State University. That summer, an (accidental?) bumping into a friend-of-a-friend, a casual conversation about writing, a mention of a writers’ conference (in my very city, at my very university), a leap of faith, a saying “yes” to a scholarship, to a new adventure, all led to me sitting in a classroom in Ball State’s Carmichael Hall, listening to author and humorist Tom Mullen talk about writing for the inspirational marketplace.
I had found a mentor.
Life-changing. That’s what Midwest Writers Workshop was for me. That class, that creative environment, that support and encouragement from faculty and committee and participants was like water and sunlight and nourishment. It made me grow. I was hooked on the importance of a writer’s conference, the value of Midwest Writers Workshop. For the next few years, I registered and signed up for classes in nonfiction and poetry. I learned to be a better writer, listening, asking questions, taking notes. I kept growing.
I found writer-friends. And become part of the MWW community.
Then in 1979, the inspirational writing class I attended was taught by Floyd Thatcher, an editor with Word Publishing. He was friendly (just like Tom and all MWW faculty seemed to be!), offered keen advice on tightening my writing, and believed in my story.
Eventually, after rewrites and rewrites, I summoned enough courage to mail my (unnamed) manuscript to him, with a new opening chapter. When he called and said, “I was moved by your story, but it’s not quite what our company publishes,” I almost dropped the phone. Until I heard his next sentence. “But I hope you don’t mind, I mailed your manuscript to another editor I know.” Then I did drop the phone.
A few weeks later, Victor Oliver, editor at Fleming H. Revell, called.
I had found an editor.
And I had found a publisher.
And I became not just a writer, but an author.
This path of mine to publication, this walkway was created with stone after stone. Courage. Registering for the workshop. Courage. Asking for advice. Courage. Revising editing improving. Learning. Courage. Sending out my words. Courage and hope. My story. Attending MWW was my right first step out of the sometimes secluded life of writing and into a community that was chock full of resources, connections, inspiration. And above all, friendships.
And now, as I head into retirement as MWW director, I am proud to have been their Official Cheerleader.
Praising, clapping, rooting for, and seeking to empower others in their writing journey. Personality testing has classified me as an extrovert with traits well suited for cheering, as an Enneagram 2, a Helper: enthusiastic, spontaneous, energetic, and understanding. Those tests indicated that I readily give affirmation and encouragement, that I focus on possibilities and have a contagious enthusiasm for ideas and people and activities. That I’m passionate and love to help other people explore their creative potential, what motivates them, what inspires them, and what they envision achieving in life.
In other words, I’m a cheerleader.
Sometimes I feel like Jenny in Forrest Gump, cheering and yelling, “Run, Forrest, run!” Sometimes I feel like those in the final scene of the sports classic, cheering and chanting, “Rudy! Rudy! Rudy!” Sometimes I feel like the crowd cheering and shouting, “Rocky, Rocky!” Always raising the spirits of others, always urging them on. Sometimes it’s with the message: no matter what life throws at them, they should get back up and carry on and that they are responsible for the direction their lives take. If they want something in life, go and get it.
Sometimes it’s a reminder that even an underdog can have his day, and that they can do anything they put their minds to. Sometimes it’s an understanding for the struggles that hardship brings and the unbridled joy of seeing all their hard work and perseverance pay off.
I’ve taken great pleasure in watching writers see their dreams come true. It’s as if their dreams become mine, and my investment in them and cheering for them is real and significant. Their dreams take up residence in my heart. I cheer and do (mental) cartwheels when they succeed, and I feel disappointment for them when roadblocks stand in their way.
This is what I know. Every(one) writer needs encouragement. Every(one) writers needs cheering.
As The Official Cheerleader for the Midwest Writers Workshop for decades, I’m telling you that’s exactly what I’ve done. I’ve cheered for you and encouraged others to cheer for you. And I’ve believed in you when you didn’t know if you could do it. Plain and simple. I believe you are a winner. You can do this thing.
Through all these many years, through all these Midwest Writers Workshops, it has been my great honor to serve a cheerleader for so many on their journey as aspiring writers to published authors.
I will savor the dreams come true on behalf of my writer friends. Nothing compares to cheering them and watching them cross the finish line—battle weary and out of breath. But doing the thing they love.
There is nothing quite like being a cheerleader. And this Scholarship/Author Event Fund will help continue my cheerleading.
Donate here.
Thank you, my MWW friends.
(In the spirit of Literary Citizenship, get the book, read the book, review the book.)
Happy 4,500 Milestone!
Look! A milestone! #4,500!
I’m on a mission. A mission to see. A mission to share. A mission to write…
…Happy Day Moments.
I write Facebook posts about “living with gratitude.” Finding a happy day moment. Every day. And now I’ve hit a milestone: writing a “Happy Day Moment” for 4,500 days. That’s 12+ years, folks. 🙂
I know it’s rather grandiose of me to think that my small little space, my Facebook presence can make a big change in how others think about gratitude, but if I’ve learned anything in the last 4,500 postings, it’s that when it comes to talking about living with gratitude, and about how we use our words – we can’t do it enough.
Let me tell you a story.
On April 1, 2010, I started with Happy Day Moment #1 on my Facebook page. Reading so many Facebook posts that were negative, complaining, even whining, I was determined to use my posts as a more positive platform.
My goal for this project was to make myself focus on some “moment” during each day where I could be positive, thankful, and “happy” that I was alive. To slow down. Just for a bit. And to use my words to express gratitude.
Throughout these 4,500 postings, I’ve experienced days with moments of love, joy, celebration, laughter, happiness – unexpected moments. But I’ve also had some days that were kinda crummy and achy and some that were soaked in confusion, sadness, sickness, grief, and disappointments.
For in writing good words, for finding “happy” moments and sharing them, I’ve discovered that I’m more thoughtful, more encouraging, more inspired, more aware – of the goodness of life all around me.
And I hope the same for others who read any posts #1 through #4500.
The routine, the exercise, the commitment to seek and find a “happy moment” every day, has become a habit that has shaped me, renewed my faith, my thankfulness, my vision.
After years of leaning into gratitude, I know I’ve only scratched the surface of this powerful principle. I realize my pursuit of gratitude isn’t an accident, as much as preparation for what has come my way during these last few years. Preparing to see me through – because when it comes to the struggles of life, we need gratitude to be our companion.
What is a Happy Day Moment?
Although I use Facebook to record my Happy Day Moments, you can write them in a notebook or journal if you choose. I’m encouraging you to try it! Use these last few weeks of 2022 to begin to catalog a daily blessing, a daily “happy” moment!
Quite simply, it’s become my tool to keep track of the good things in life. No matter how difficult and defeating my day can sometimes feel, there is always a “moment,” something to feel grateful about. We can all be grateful.
While it’s tough to find that “moment,” that “something” to be grateful about during a rough patch, it’s not just another “easy to say, but hard to do” action – it can actually help rescue you during a storm.
Even more than that, regularly finding a “moment” and identifying the good things in your life can help prepare and strengthen you to deal with unexpected heartache and pain.
We all have own challenges and difficult days. Yet, even in my darkest days, my instinct is to feel grateful for the things that I do have and for the things that are going well. I let gratitude be the doorway to hope; once hopeful, I find strength and the will to take one small step that moves me to better and easier times.
Because this is what happens:
Words of gratitude lift us above circumstance.
Sometimes the wall of difficulties we face appears too tall to scale. But the presence of gratitude lifts and carries us. We become stronger, more agile, infused with what we need, not just to face the barrier, but to search for a way around or over that we hadn’t considered before.
Words of gratitude refocus our attention.
They change our perspective. We’re never off on the wrong foot when we step out in gratitude. We can’t think negatively when we focus on the positive. We’re less judgmental, resentful, or divisive when we’re thankful for our relationships (especially the complicated ones). Sometimes it’s easy to focus on our hurts or sorrows and miss all of the other places that good things are happening. It’s possible for good things and hard things to co-exist in our lives. We show wisdom when we can focus on being thankful and noticing the good, instead of concentrating on the bad.
Words of gratitude bring us joy.
Those who live in gratitude have the most joyful lives. It’s impossible to miss the joy when we’re on the lookout for blessings. We won’t miss out on the moments when we’re present and rooted in each one as it comes.
Benefits of Happy Day Moment
Identifying a Happy Day Moment can give you a new perspective on what is important to you and what you truly appreciate in your life. By noting what you are grateful for, you can gain clarity on what you want to have more of in your life, and what you can do without. HDMs can help you find out and focus on what really matters to you. Keeping a HDM list helps you learn more about yourself and become more self-aware. On days when you’re meh, icky and really bummed, or angry and grumpy at the world {yes, I get that way, too}, you can read through your list of HDMs to readjust your attitude and remember all the blessings in your life.
Identifying a Happy Day Moment can make you more mindful, helping you to become more grounded, making it easier to notice even more things you are grateful for! HDMs can help you feel more balanced and less thrown off by daily stress. You may notice that a lot more small, good things are happening – or maybe you’ll notice the small, good things that were already happening. Your gratitude might act as a beacon to good things and good people, drawing even more positive things to be grateful for to you. It can make you feel accomplished, even if it’s a relatively small accomplishment. We all need a win, no matter how big or small.
In case you’re wondering “What, exactly, will this practice, this habit, do for me?” – read on to learn about the potential benefits of the simple practice of being grateful and finding a Happy Day Moment.
Maybe you’d want to give this challenge of finding a daily Happy day Moment a chance. The common wisdom is that it takes three weeks to establish a new habit, so aim for at least three weeks of daily HDMs before making any judgments. The only thing you stand to lose if you don’t take to this HDM is a few minutes a day – hardly a huge loss!
Armed with these suggestions and encouragement, hopefully you’ll find it easy to begin and maintain your own habit of finding a HAPPY DAY MOMENT!
Every Father’s Daughter: My Dad, My Coach
When I was nine, my parents gave me an autograph book for Christmas. Throughout the holiday I pestered family and friends by collecting signatures and messages. I was delighted with that pink book with “Autographs” in fancy writing across the cover. The first page had lines for my name and my “favorites.” For “Favorite Book” was the difficult choice of Nancy Drew and the Secret of the Old Clock or Nancy Drew and the Haunted Mansion. But it was not a difficult choice for “Favorite Athlete.” No contest – I proudly wrote “my Daddy” in my best cursive.
I nearly swaggered with pride because of my Dad. My Dad had the best job of any dad I knew. Most friends were mysterious about what their dads did; they just came and went in suits and ties. My Dad, however, was a college football coach – that was worth bragging about. Kathy Williams’ dad was a close second because he managed the university auditorium and got to meet famous entertainers like Danny Kaye and The Temptations. And I have to admit I was a bit jealous when Kathy got to go backstage and meet Red Skelton. But, come on, what can really compare to coaching big college football players?
I mean, my Dad got to wear (and use!) a whistle when he worked! And he could yell and not even get in trouble. People called him “Coach,” an honorable title.
One of the best memories about his job was when he invited some of his players to our house on Friday nights for spaghetti dinner. Mom had to retrieve from the basement the biggest pot she had – the one she used for canning tomatoes – so she could cook all the spaghetti. Now, I’d been to plenty of gatherings and both the Kehoe and Drake families had healthy eaters among them, but I had never seen men pack away the volume of food as those football players did. It was amazing to watch.
Getting to sit beside one of the players – Dad usually invited two or three at a time – was the highlight of the meal for us four kids. If we were really lucky one of us got to sit between two of them. Dad even let us call them by their first names (instead of “Mister”), and I would oh so casually mention to my friends that “Mark,” “George,” or “Chuck” had come for dinner over the weekend. Some of them even signed my prized autograph book. I was envied.
A coach’s kid often saw life a bit differently. For example, Xs and Os didn’t mean kisses and hugs; they meant defense and offense. Sunday afternoons didn’t mean reruns of Charlie Chan movies; they meant six straight hours of football. For a long time I never knew there was any other programming than football on Sunday. I didn’t go visit historical battlefields or mansions; I went to football fields and high school gymnasiums. I actually saw my dad run backwards as he refereed high school basketball games. I knew of no other dad who could accomplish such a feat.
Dad was, and forever will be, my favorite athlete, my teacher and coach, my Sahib Guru, my champion.
He taught me to punt, pass and kick a football, to throw a spiral and screen pass, to run the sideline and cut in for a long TD, to receive a handoff and sprint for quick yardage, and not to cry when I was tackled.
He taught me to stand in the batter’s box and not be afraid of a fastball, to keep my eyes on the ball and hit a line drive, to wind up and throw a strike, to keep my glove down on ground balls.
He taught me to swing a golf club off the tee, the iron shot, the chip shot, the bunker shot, and the proper putting stance, how to find my ball in the rough and retrieve it from the water.
He taught me how to run faster, how to dribble a basketball, shoot a lay-up and free throw.
He taught me how to hit, serve and pass a volleyball. He taught me to bowl. He even knew a thing or two about wrestling and gymnastics.
He taught me the serve and lob shot in tennis, how to hit a shuttlecock in badminton, how to pole vault and jump a hurdle.
He taught me all the strokes in swimming, even the “pick an apple and put it in the basket” technique of the sidestroke. He taught me to dive from the low board and the high board.
About the only sporting activities he didn’t teach me involved snow and ice. I don’t think I ever saw Dad in ice skates. Mom was the one who took us to the Duck Pond when it froze; she could even skate backwards.
Although Dad taught me the rules and play of so many sports, more important to him than how I played was the way I played – always trying, always persevering, always with respect and sportsmanship, always with dignity whether we won or lost. Often knowing I could improve, but always proud of my effort, he didn’t embarrass or belittle or discourage; rather he was a motivator and encourager.
He reminded me that sports are games, they’re supposed to be fun. And by not losing sight of these facts and remembering to play fair and with sportsmanship, I carried the respect and appreciation of other people into every other aspect of life. He never emphasized winning “at any cost” but that winning was just one of several goals he’d like his kids to achieve. He took pride in our accomplishments and in improving our skills, so that we kids saw ourselves as winners, even if the scoreboard didn’t show the numbers going in our favor. Sports gave us new skills, new friends, and attitudes that helped us all through life.
Being a coach’s kid was a great childhood. Being Fred Kehoe’s kid was even better . . . and it will always be the best.
(Originally published on blog Every Father’s Daughter, May 2016)
