My secret anti-aging discovery

It’s not that I’m ANTI-anti-aging products; I just haven’t found many that deliver on their promises. And how come she still looks good but when I use a charcoal mask I look like a gorilla?

Facial masks - what are we hiding?

The Anti-Aging industry is replete with advertisements containing Re-words; ads offering hope that you really can turn back the clock (just click here and enter your VISA#)

The promises these products make are seductive, aren’t they?

  • Repair your wrinkles
  • Restore your youthful looks
  • Reduce your age spots

Remember what the prefix “Re-” means? Again… back… once more.

Oh, to have that dewy fresh complexion again, to have my collagen back, to once more experience the glow of youth. Sigh.

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Depression and How I Dismantled It

“The opposite of depression isn’t happiness; it’s vitality.” 

the opposite of depression isn't happiness, it's vitaity

Depression used to drain the life out of me. 

Four years ago, on May 12, 2014, my life radically changed, but the seeds for that change were sown in January 2013. Here’s a partial journal entry from that day:

  • Decimating mountains of fear
  • Obliterating depression
  • Pulverizing despair
  • Dismantling lack
  • Annihilating anxiety
  • Building hope muscles
  • Training my mind to think positive thoughts
  • Rebuking the victim mentality
  • Shaking off discouragement
  • Stomping on old habits
  • Parting ways with the pity party
  • Stepping out into the future.
  • Lack is not part of my vocabulary
  • Stressed is not in my thesaurus
  • Blessed is how I describe myself

I am rich: rich in favor, finances, in spiritual wisdom, in relationships, in all my endeavors.

I WAS MISERABLE.

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How to Cling to Hope When You’re Hanging by a Thread

My hope was to lighten up the blog this week with a funny post about my struggles with aging and the lessons I’ve learned from wrinkles and grey hair, but we’ll have to save that one for later. Based on the overwhelming number of urgent prayer requests in my inbox the past few days, I sensed the Spirit nudging me to go in a different direction.

But I got to thinking about those wrinkles and grey hair; they’re a road map of our journeys. They tell our stories, if only someone would take the time to listen. I’ve listened to some heart-breaking stories recently. Your stories. 

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How to Recuperate From Any Loss (without losing your mind)

“It takes years for the land to recuperate from a fire, but even in the darkest of ashes eventually something can grow.” Lemony Snicket, The Beatrice Letters

Some things are easier to recuperate from than others. As an introvert, I require blocks of time to recuperate after social engagements. My body is currently recuperating from a morning spent bent over doing yard work. Ow. Ibuprofen, ice packs and heating pad help me to recuperate. 

Those are simple problems with simple fixes, it’s just a matter of doing what I’ve learned works for me. But how do you recuperate from the big stuff?

Recuperate is one of those RE-words that is defined by other Re-words. It means to recover from financial loss or from sickness or exhaustion or to regain health or strength.

Webster’s 1828 Dictionary combines the categories and simply states:

To recover from anything lost.

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Havoc or Haven? Rethinking Home

Havoc or Haven? Rethinking Home

Havoc? Or Haven? I laugh and then groan when the Lord gives me that title, because when you sit down to write what you think you know, God has this way of making you relive it, aka God’s Refresher Course for writers and would-be know-it-alls.

(SIGH)

So, I asked him what to tell you and he said, “Tell them the truth.”

All I could think of was Jack Nicholson’s line in the movie A Few Good Men: “You want the truth? You can’t handle the truth!”

I responded, “Lord, if I tell them the truth, they might never read another word I write!”

A half hour later I came across this quote: “What would happen if one woman told the truth about her life? The world would split open.” Maria Rukeyser.

So here we go; if the earth opens up under our feet, it’s not my fault. (Get it – fault?) 

More than anything, I desire my house to be a haven. Over the years, wherever we’ve lived, I’ve walked and prayed over the rooms, asking God to use our home to extend His Kingdom and he has answered those prayers, although not always in the ways I expected.

Unfortunately, even in the most heavenly havens, havoc can strike. We’ve experienced our share: unemployment, sickness, family struggles, a financial crisis. I’ll spare you the details and leave it at this: If we’d just run over the dog it would have made a great country and western song.

You know what I discovered? It’s possible to experience haven even in the midst of havoc. Read more

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