"If a man does not make new acquaintance as he advances through life, he will soon find himself left alone. A man, Sir, should keep his friendships in constant repair." ~Samuel Johnson

I've been reading a book called The Art of Neighboring.  I'm about 3/4 of the way through, and although interesting, it is really nothing earth shattering, or revolutionary.  The focus of the book is to encourage the reader to connect on a personal level with people, beginning with those who live in our neighborhoods.  It offers suggestions such as baking cookies to take to new neighbors, or offering to help a neighbor you see who might be struggling with an outdoor project.  Common sense things, it would seem.

It is sad to me that the need for such a book exists.  When I was growing up, we knew our neighbors.  We knew about their lives, where they worked, and where they went to church.  I took piano lessons from the lady 3 doors down, and I played with kids from all over the neighborhood.  Of the sixteen or so houses on our street, I knew the names of everyone who lived in those homes.  I also frequently went inside of at least twelve of those houses - usually to play with their children, or to babysit.  I knew the stories of these families, and they knew ours.  These days, people in most neighborhoods generally don't know one another.  We drive out of our garages each morning, and back into them each evening, with nothing more than an occasional wave as we pass.

Not only were we connected with our neighbors when I was growing up, but we had an even stronger connection with our brethren.  It was not uncommon for someone to stop by on a Saturday, just because they happened to be near our neighborhood.  In fact, it was uncommon for that NOT to happen.  And we did the same.  Those people were closer than family.  Our home was their home, and vice versa.  We knew each other intimately, shared each others' joys, and helped each other through difficulties.  I've often wondered how my brethren here and now would react if I just showed up at their door one day because I happened to be in the neighborhood.  I don't really know what the response would be because people just don't do that sort of thing anymore.  And as a result, we don't know each other as well as brethren did in times' past.

Sadly, I don't think the "art of neighboring" exists on the scale it once did, and I think the reasons for that are many.  Perhaps the main reason is the very thing I'm doing right now - using the internet.  While blogging, Facebook, email, and texting can be a wonderful source for keeping in touch, many tend to use those media as their only source of communication.  When our girls were in Junior High, one of their friends lost her father, and I took the girls to the funeral.  During the eulogy, the only mention of this man's friendships was his "online friends."  The minister read from "posts" he had printed of these far away online friends' words of sympathy.   I remember being shocked by that, and wondering why he didn't touch the lives of those he saw daily - or if he did, why no mention was made of them.

So, what's the solution?  How do we get back to the place where we interact with people on a more personal level?  Log off.  Go outside.  Make an effort.  Learn about the lives of those you are around daily.  Be more of a "there you are" person, and less of a "here I am" one.  Visit someone, even if they seem shocked or uncomfortable at first - or, even better, invite someone into your home for a meal.  Take someone out to lunch.  Make a phone call instead of sending an email.  Hand write a note or letter to mail instead of messaging someone on Facebook.

In Acts 2:46, the early Christians "continued daily with one accord in the temple, and breaking bread from house to house . . ."  They saw the need for daily interaction on a personal level, and they grew as a result.  Peter tells us in 1 Peter 1:22 that we are to "love one another fervently with a pure heart."  We can't do that by waving from the inside of our cars, or seeing each other three times a week at a church building.

I'm logging off now, and don't be surprised to find me knocking on your door.  I'll bring some cookies.

"I am a part of all that I have met..." ~Alfred Lord Tennyson

It's December 1, and my November Thankfulness Project is complete.  To be honest, I could keep doing the entries for at least several more months - I didn't cover even half of my list, even with my "cheating" of grouping people together in one entry.  And interestingly enough, as I added an entry each day, it spurred memories of others, and my list continued to grow. This November project has been good for me.  It has brought to my remembrance many people who have at some point in my life made an impression - collectively, they have made me who I am.  I am so blessed through the people in my life, and I need to make sure they know that.

  However, I must be honest with you about my "list."  There are several names on that list that I decided not to write about, even if their name was randomly drawn.  Why?  Because the influence they had on me, and the lessons I learned from my experiences with those people were not positive, and I would never air that in a public forum.  Some of them were hard - very hard.  So, why am I thankful for them, and why are they even on the list?  Because we learn from every relationship we have in life - both the good and the bad.  In fact, I have probably learned from the bad, painful experiences I have had with people in life much more than I have from the good - or at least as much. Those "bad" experiences have made me more sensitive in a lot of ways to the needs of others, and for that I am thankful.

As I started this project, I quoted from "It's A Wonderful Life" in my October 31st entry.  One of the most memorable scenes in that movie is when Clarence tells George,“Strange, isn't it? Each man's life touches so many other lives. When he isn't around he leaves an awful hole, doesn't he?” Clarence was so right.  The quote I used in the title of this entry speaks to the same concept.  I AM a part of all that I have met, and that leads to a sobering thought - All I have ever met are a part of me.  Now that I am through looking outward at others, I need to take a long, hard look at myself.  Every day I come into contact with people in a multitude of ways - some live in my home, some I talk to on a regular basis, some I keep in contact with via email and Facebook, and others I simply encounter in random ways.  If they were to make a list like I have made, would they be willing to write publicly about me, or would I fall under that category of those who had an impact, but in a painful or difficult way?  That's something I need to consider.

I don't know for sure what direction I will go with this blog for now.  I enjoy writing, and will continue to add entries, but probably not on a daily basis.  I hope you will continue to stop by as you have opportunity.  I'll close for now with the following thoughts from the Apostle Paul, penned in Phil. 2:1-8:  "So if there is any encouragement in Christ, any comfort from love, any participation in the Spirit, any affection and sympathy,  complete my joy by being of the same mind, having the same love, being in full accord and of one mind.  Do nothing from selfish ambition or conceit, but in humility count others more significant than yourselves.  Let each of you look not only to his own interests, but also to the interests of others.  Have this mind among yourselves, which is yours in Christ Jesus, who, though he was in the form of God, did not count equality with God a thing to be grasped, but emptied himself, by taking the form of a servant, being born in the likeness of men. And being found in human form, he humbled himself by becoming obedient to the point of death,even death on a cross."  When we live with a Christ-like mind, we will be that positive influence in the lives of others.  I plan to work harder at that, and I hope you will, too.

“Friends are the family we choose for ourselves.” ~Edna Buchanan

When I was four years old, the Reynolds moved to my hometown.  They quickly became like family to us.  Their daughter was 10 years old than me, and she took a special interest in me.  She would play with me, have me come over and spend the night with her, and make me feel like I was a teenager, too!  I loved going over to their house.

The year after they moved to town, they endured tragedy when their 10 year old son died suddenly.  It was the beginning of the summer, and since Mrs. Reynolds worked outside the home, their daughter came over every day to spend the days with us - she didn't want to be home alone.  What a fun summer for me!

Eventually, their daughter married.  I was in the wedding, and when she moved to a nearby town, I would spend school breaks at her house.  I also loved being at the Reynolds house, and Mr. and Mrs. Reynolds took a personal interest in my young life.  They attended every piano recital, band concert, and school event that came along.  And they continued that, whenever possible, with my children as well.  Going to their home always seemed just the same as going to my own home.  What a blessing they were in my young life!

The Reynolds were some of the most hospitable people I've ever known.  It was impossible to be in their home without eating or drinking something, because Mr. Reynolds was relentless in offering - sometimes it was easier just to accept, even if you really didn't want anything!  They made me feel like part of their family, but I wasn't the only one.  They were always there, and could always be counted on.  The night my daddy died in an accident, they were the first ones to arrive at my mother's house, and the last to leave.  They opened up their home to out-of-town family of ours on that occasion, as well as other times - people they had never met before.  And after my father's death, they were there for my mother - they would drag her all over East Texas and beyond, to any and every event they went to.  On the first Valentine's day after Daddy died, Mr. Reynolds took his wife - and my mother - out to eat.

Mr. Reynolds passed away several years ago.  I was able to go visit him shortly before he died, and say my goodbyes, and I'm thankful I had that opportunity.  Mrs. Reynolds continues to live in my hometown, and now my mother and her new husband are the ones who drag her all over the countryside.  The Reynolds taught me a lot as a child.  From them I first learned that family is not limited to blood relatives.  They showed me that by taking an active interest in the lives of others, strong, lifelong relationships can form.  They taught me hospitality, and service.  My childhood was brighter, and my life as a whole is better, because of the Reynolds, and I'm thankful that God blessed my life with them.

This ends my November posts of Thankfulness for the people in my life.  I will write a concluding, wrap-up blog entry tomorrow, December 1. 

"When strangers start acting like neighbors... communities are reinvigorated." ~Ralph Nader

It is a very rare thing to have neighbors in an apartment complex that you come to call friends.  We were blessed in the first months of our marriage to have such neighbors living down stairs in our Dallas apartment complex - Lance and Mary.

Lance and Mary were young like us, and had not been married very long, but they had endured great trial in their short life together.  Lance was injured in an accident, and lost the use of both legs - he was confined to a wheelchair.  The thing that impressed me about both Lance and Mary from the outset was their amazing attitudes.  No, they didn't like what had happened to them, but they had accepted it, and they were doing everything they could to live a normal, productive, happy life.  Lance had his car "rigged" so that he could drive, and their apartment was equipped to accommodate his chair.  The first time I met Lance, he was underneath his car working on it - he slid out to say hi.  He "ran" in marathons, using his arms for power, and he and Jeff would sometimes play tennis together.

Lance and Mary had a little dog, Shadrach, who became friends with our dog, Barney.  We would dog sit for each other, and we spent many summer evenings sitting on the bottom of the stairs outside of our apartments visiting.  They were always so encouraging to be with, and we loved spending time with them.  Occasionally, they would invite us over for dinner.  I told Mary one time that I wished we could reciprocate, but I knew that Lance could not climb the stairs to come to our apartment.  She told me that we could fix that - Jeff could carry Lance upstairs!  I was a little surprised at first, but then Mary pointed out that even though Lance's upper body was quite fit, he didn't weigh that much because of the atrophy of his lower extremities.  So, we did what she suggested, and enjoyed having them in our home several times after that.

Mary and I would walk together when we got home from work to get some exercise, and I loved those times of visiting together.  We talked about our future hopes of having houses, and children to fill them.  They  bought a house and moved before we did, but we kept in touch with each other.  They now live in San Antonio, and we enjoy their Christmas card every year, with pictures of their three children.

From Lance and Mary, I learned that even when life-changing tragedies occur, it doesn't have to defeat the spirit.  Mary showed me how those vows we make when we marry someone can take on new meaning as we deal with caring for someone through the "sickness" part.  Lance and Mary taught us that we can adjust to any situation, and still live a happy, productive life - even if it's not the life we once envisioned.  They also taught me to never take my health, or the proper functioning of my body, for granted.

Lance and Mary were some of those "for a season" friends, and they served me well.  I'm thankful that they were our neighbors, and for the wonderful example they set for me.

"Never go to a doctor whose office plants have died." ~Erma Bombeck

The very first human hands to touch my children belong to Dr. Weinstein.  He was my ob/gyn, and saw me through a lot!  I first went to Dr. Weinstein shortly after I got married, and he performed some minor surgery to correct some problems I was having.  I found him to be warm, thoughtful, caring, and extremely competent at his job.  He was an older man, with years of experience, and I found that to be comforting.

A few years later when Jeff and I decided it was a good time to begin our family, things didn't go quite as smoothly as we had hoped.  Dr. Weinstein was there, and ready to help.  He did the very best for me that medical science could do, and I was excited when I got pregnant.  However, several weeks into the pregnancy I suffered a miscarriage.  Jeff and I were both devastated, and Dr. Weinstein was very compassionate as he dealt with us through that loss.  When the time was right, Dr. Weinstein once again pulled all of the medical strings he could, and I conceived again - this time it was twins!  I had the pregnancy confirmed in his office one day while Jeff was at work.  Dr. Weinstein was so excited - he even insisted I call Jeff right then from his office phone.  (That was in the days before cell phones for you youngsters reading this.)  I was impressed that this man who had probably confirmed thousands of pregnancies could be so excited about one more!

Dr. Weinstein provided the best care he could for me throughout my pregnancy, and at 29 weeks, I began to experience pre-term labor.  Dr. Weinstein hospitalized me and was able to get it stopped,  He tried letting me go home, but two days later I had to go back to the hospital, and he told me that I would be staying for the duration of the pregnancy.  He and the other doctors in his practice would rotate making hospital rounds each morning, and it was always my favorite day when it was Dr. Weinstein's turn.  He never seemed to be in a hurry, and he would often pick up my newspaper, sit down in my room, and visit while he perused the Sports section.

After six LONG weeks in the hospital, my babies had grown enough to let me continue my labor.  Late into the night of September 20, 1990, the nurse came into my room, flicked on the light, and stood there with a wheelchair.  She told me that Dr. Weinstein was downstairs, and he wanted her to bring me down.  When I arrived in Labor & Delivery, he said, "Let's have some babies!"  Dr. Weinstein performed a c-section, and at 2:58 a.m. and again at 3:00 a.m. on September 21, he delivered our very healthy girls with skill and precision.  Two years later, he did the same when he delivered Caleb.

From talking to other women, I think most of us feel a special bond with the doctor who delivered our children.  For me, it seemed even more special, considering the help he gave us in the problems we had conceiving, his compassionate care through a difficult loss, and his wisdom in treating me in such a way as to give our girls the best chance possible at a healthy start.  I know it was his job, but he did it with great care.  Dr. Weinstein helped me to learn PATIENCE, which was required as I awaited the arrival of our girls during those long six weeks of hospitalization.  He would often tell me to trust him - the wait would be worth it!  And he was right.  I'm thankful for Dr. Weinstein, and for the knowledge and skill God blessed him with that not only helped us have the family we longed for, but made sure that me and our children were healthy in the process.

"The happiest people I have known have been those who gave themselves no concern about their own souls, but did their uttermost to mitigate the miseries of others.” ~Elizabeth Cady Stanton

One of the people I am blessed to know who most portrays the heart of a servant is my friend Sharon.  I first met her about 21 years ago when we began worshiping with the congregation where she was a member.  She and her husband immediately made us feel welcome.  Sharon was one of those people who is sincerely interested in the lives of others, and seeks to find ways to help.  She would always try to help me when I would go to Ladies' Bible class, as I attempted to wrestle my 7 month old twins.  Unfortunately, they were both extremely shy, and did not warm up to Sharon very fast.  But, she was persistent, and with time she won them over.

As our children grew, Sharon continued to work at being involved in their lives.  She would bring them new toys to keep their attention during a week-long gospel meeting, and she was ever ready with hugs - not just for the kids, but for everyone.  She was always cheerful, with a great sense of humor.  But the thing that has always impressed me most about Sharon is her selfless heart of service.  She is one of those people who does countless acts for others as part of her everyday activities  - never complaining, and never expecting anything in return.  In her mid-60's, she is also currently teaching a Bible class of 27 2nd graders, after just having had hip replacement surgery - now THAT is service!

Through the years, even though we no longer live in the same city, we have continued to enjoy our friendship with Sharon.  She's visited our home on several occasions, and last year she and her husband drove the 2 hours from their home just to be in the Sunday evening assembly here to hear Caleb preach.  They continue to love our children, and will extend that in a tangible way once again beginning in January when Becca will live with them while she does her internship in Dallas.  

I'm so thankful for Sharon.  Her life has not been easy, and she has taught me so much about serving others.  I've learned from Sharon that service is rewarding, even if it's not always appreciated or even known about by the recipient.  From her, I've been reminded how great it is to have a sense of humor, and how laughter is such a wonderful part of any friendship.  She's taught me by her example that everything we have is from God, and is to be shared.  Sharon gives the best hugs of anyone I know - those big, take-your-breath-away bear hugs, and she's the only person besides my immediate family who often accompanies her hug with a kiss on the cheek.  I love that about Sharon.  How blessed I am to call her friend!  

"Young people are in a condition like permanent intoxication, because youth is sweet and they are growing " ~Aristotle

The teenage years can be a wonderful time of life, if you have good people surrounding you.  I was blessed in my youth to have a wonderful network of Christian friends in the congregation where I grew up.  Hal, Kathy, Debbie, James, Betty, Rachel, and Mark provided that great friendship, and we had a wonderful time together in those years.

We would all sit up front during worship - the guys sat on the 2nd row, and the girls on the 3rd.  Occasionally, one of the guys would do something that would give us girls the giggles, but for the most part, everyone was focused on the reason we were there - to worship God.  Every Sunday night after services, we would go out to eat, and then drive around.  The scenario was usually the same - the girls would walk over to the guys, and ask them where they were going, and Mark would always say, "To heaven - wanna come?"  We usually ended up at Pizza Hut, where Mark would lead us in prayer before we ate.  We always got Mark to word the prayer, because he had the timing down to a science - he would begin his prayer with the ending of a song on the jukebox, and end it right before the next one started up.  We would sometimes do crazy things after we ate - like the time we decided to pack 8 people in Mark's little Volkswagen.  Some of us worked together at Swensen's Ice Cream Parlor for a while, and that was great fun as well.  Even though we did some crazy stuff, we knew by being with each other we would never get into trouble.  We knew that everyone there was committed first and foremost to living for Christ.  What a wonderful thing to have!

We were also all in the same Bible class, and the ones of us who went to the same school would often meet in the library after lunch to "cram" for our memory verse memorization.  We watched and participated in each other's spiritual growth, and would encourage our brothers who began participating in the public worship.  

Eventually, we all grew up and left.  All are still faithful to the Lord, one is a gospel preacher now, and one became my sister-in-law.  I don't see most of them very often, but we are forever bound by the growing up and learning we did together during those volatile teenage years.  And when I do see them, it always feels familiar and easy, and conjures up such happy memories.

From my church peers, I learned more than I can ever list here.  I learned the great value and application of Ecclesiastes 4:9-12, and how there really is strength in numbers.  They helped me to learn at an early age the concepts of loyalty and friendship, and that making friends of God's people FIRST has huge implications as it relates to the growth of my own faith.  Hal, Kathy, Todd, James, Betty, Debbie, Rachel and Mark all hold a special place in my heart, and I'm thankful for the memories we share.