January Woman of Hope

Hope…what is hope? It is a word I cling to when things are tough or when I am waiting for something to happen. Hope is what we wait for.

Each month I will be featuring a Woman of Hope. I have met so many incredible women with powerful stories. They inspire me. I hope they inspire you too.

January’s Woman of Hope

Cheryl Butcher

Cheryl calls this picture circa 1988. =0)  I call it Miss Kitty, a.k.a. Cheryl

Cheryl and I share a booth at our local art gallery.  Her other alias is Catnap Studio

Please enjoy my interview with this month's Woman of Hope!

What gives you the most hope?

Contentment. I’m at peace with where I am and where I’ve been.

Tell us about yourself.

I was Chief Probation Officer for 20 years. You work with unsavory people, but they become human when you allow them to be who they are. They are just like you and me – human. After all, aren’t we supposed to hate the deed and love the person? Probation is to help them – give them a hand and help them up.

What do you consider your gifts?

I am kind and caring, compassionate, fun, creative and a good friend.

I have enjoyed many of your creative gifts. What is your favorite way to be creative?

I enjoy painting, beading, piano, knitting, encaustic art, mixed media, collaborative art (round robins), but I always come back to beading. I love the computer too – you learn so much.

What do you do to relax?

When I can, I sit and look at the changes of the season. I sit outside on my bench. It doesn’t happen often, so it is really special. I love to read and I like to decorate my home so I can love it again. When I do that I get to remember my things and where they came from.

What is your favorite saying or verse?

Ephesians 4:4 You (we) are all called to travel on the same road and in the same direction, so stay together, both outwardly and inwardly. 4:32 Be kind to each other, tenderhearted, forgiving one another, just as God has forgiven you because you belong to Christ.

What color is hope for you?

Green – it is a sign of new life, hope and God giving us another chance to start over every spring. Just the thought that there is peace…

What is hope to you?

Hope is a teenage grandchild that unquestionably loves you and kisses you and lets you kiss them.

When you have learned that you tell your children that you love and hug them and they are special and that I need them. Hope is courage and I didn’t always have the courage to tell my kids that I loved them. I had to learn that because I wasn’t raised that way. Hope is being able to let go of a deep resentment and replace it with love.

Hope means it can get better.

Here is a peek into Cheryl's home, her studio and her life!

Beautiful pins that Cheryl creates!  I want one!

Cheryl's adorable dogs, Mason and  

Cheryl is a master beader.  She made this exquisite Santa Claus and I love it!!

Here is a peek at the knitting that she enjoys doing!

She combined more than one of her loves with this one of a kind necklace!

There are so many amazing women out there.  I would love to hear your message of hope!

Speaking of women of hope, please stop by to see Beverly, our amazing Pink Saturday Hostess!

Stylish Blog Award

I am so excited!! This is my first award EVER. I am honored and humbled. Thank you to Cindy at Custom Comforts for awarding me this Stylish Blog Award. Be sure to check out her blog. She is amazingly gifted and freely shares her ideas with her readers.

1. Thank and link back to the person/persons who awarded you. Thanks Cindy!

2. Tell seven things about yourself.

So here goes ~ seven things about myself you never knew before:

1. I love creating things – especially dolls! I used to be afraid to paint their faces and now I can’t wait to get to that part so they can tell me who they are. Creating in my “studio” (also referred to as the unfinished part of the basement is like going to my happy place).

2. I love, love, love pink. I have a pink step stool, pink Kitchenaid mixer, pink phone cover, pink rings, pink vacuum (kidding), but you get the idea.

3. I love listening to classical music. It takes my mind to creative and relaxing places. I also like listening to Christmas music. I have been known to begin listening to Christmas music in July.

4. I grew up in rural Colorado, lived in Denver, Atlanta, Charleston, SC, and back to Colorado. If I could live anywhere I would choose the mountains because I love the peace that it brings to me and I like cold weather.

5. I began a website about a year ago called Woman of Hope. It is an online marketplace for likeminded women to display their blog, etsy, website, etc.

6. I love dogs and have two entertaining and “lively” Springer Spaniels to prove it. I think that God must have had a good time creating dogs.

7. Years ago I taught a therapy group and encouraged the students to bring something that seemed like a piece of junk and the challenge was: Don’t see if for what it is but rather what it can become. I know that I am a work in progress. Like that piece of junk, I am glad that God is transforming me. I am most thankful for God’s grace.

Inside the God Box

A couple of weeks ago a dear friend gave me this article and a box to go with it.  It is the most wonderful story and has some great truth and HOPE.  As I sit here and write this tonight I think about the things in our lives that have been out of our control.  Not only that, but right now, I can't see any answers.  So, I really am going to do this and just see what God does.  When I get into these moods I have to realize that God is BIGGER than anything and everything that I experience.  I'll let you know how it goes.  How about you?  Will you experience His goodness with me? 

Inside the God Box
by Mary Lou Quinlan



What if you could catch a glimpse of every hope—big or small—your mother ever had for you? Here, one daughter’s story of enduring love.
In May 2006, I lost my mother, Mary Finlayson. I miss so much about her—those moments when we laughed or cried at the same things; our pet names for each other (“I love you, Anna Banana,” we’d say); and how we would end our nightly calls by pressing our palms to our phones and whispering, “Hands on,” our mantra for always staying close. What I long for most is the way Mom could make me believe that everything would be OK.

She was my one-stop problem-solver with her own secret weapon: the God Box, her simple way of coping with the stresses of life. It wasn’t anything fancy, just a series of trinket boxes filled with her typed or handwritten requests on behalf of me; my younger brother, Jack; and the love of her life, our father, Ray. Mom would scrounge up any old piece of paper—the back of a receipt, a torn paper towel, or a while-you-were-out slip sufficed—date it, and write, “Dear God,” followed by her concern of the moment, which ran the gamut from big (“Please let our house sell today”) to small (“Please let Mary Lou’s Pergo floor be the right choice”). She would sign many of the scraps “Thank you, God. Sincerely, Mary,” gently fold them into tiny origami, and tuck them into the box. Then, she believed, God would take over.
Mom started her first God Box in the mid-1980s, when she and Dad retired from Philadelphia to Fort Myers, Florida. Jack and I were in our 20s, building our grown-up lives, his in New Jersey with his wife, Sandy, and mine in New York City with my husband, Joe. With us far away, she bonded with new friends in Florida. That came as no surprise to us: People had always gravitated to my pretty, blue-eyed, red-haired mother, a fabulous hostess (if mediocre cook) and can-do administrative assistant, who radiated joy and kindness. I can’t recall how many times she would say something like “You have such lovely hair” or “You are so good with those kids of yours” to a complete stranger—often someone who looked as if she could use a compliment. Mom was so openly sympathetic that just about everyone, from waitresses to handymen, instantly confided in her. And she, in turn, took their problems to heart, mulling them over for days. Noticing that tendency, a friend suggested to Mom that she put a list of cares into a box. Just like that, the God Box was born.

From then on, when someone shared a concern with Mom, she would say optimistically, “I’ll put it in the God Box.” The simple act of writing down the wish and relinquishing control to a higher power was her way to help others, and relieve her own mind. Mom was always offering to put wishes from Jack or me into the box, as long as we observed her one condition: total surrender. If we started fretting again, the message would be removed. I can’t say that we stopped worrying on command, but she did make us realize that we needed to let go and give it over. Even I—a lifelong type A personality who fancied she could think her way out of any problem—had to agree.

In the beginning, I regarded the God Box as just another spiritual tool in Mom’s arsenal, alongside the novenas and the Rosaries. Our family is Catholic, but Mom was generally “holier” than the rest of us, and her unshakable faith was her anchor. But as the years went on and our lives grew more complicated, the box became our family’s go-to aid for life’s bigger bumps and bruises. Jack and his wife went on to have two daughters, Kelley and Meghan, and moved from state to state as he took a series of exciting, risky new jobs. My New York advertising career skyrocketed while I tried, unsuccessfully, to get pregnant. In 1996 Dad suffered a stroke that affected his speech. All the while, Mom put each dream, decision, and desperate prayer in the box.

Every family member had a unique relationship with the God Box. Dad was glad Mom had a way to quell her worrying. To me and Jack, the God Box was akin to a child’s beloved blanket; it conferred security, or the illusion of it. We felt our hopes were in Mom’s hands, and there all would be well.

What we didn’t know was how many times Mom wrote in the box—until we lost her. As Jack, Dad, and I were preparing for her funeral, we talked about the God Box. So I headed back to her bedroom to look for it. Reaching to the top shelf of her closet, I yelled, “I found it!” But as I grabbed the box, my hand brushed another and then another. Ultimately we found a total of 10. We were shocked to see so many, filled to the brim with petitions spanning two decades.

Spilling the scraps, we were face-to-face with every mountain and molehill we had ever confided to Mom. In the God Boxes, she had left a 20-year love letter to us in hundreds of pieces. Many messages were freighted with emotion: “Please help Dad get his speech back 100%” or “Please help my neighbor Rachel. She’s sick and stays inside and won’t talk to me.” Others were mundane yet surprisingly poignant (“Please choose correct ship and cabin for Mother’s Day cruise present”), revealing how much thought she put into everyday matters. I laughed when I saw that she had interceded to get difficult coworkers out of my life, citing each one by name; I’d forgotten most of them. If a favor was granted, Mom would insert thank-you notes, like “Good mammogram, thank you.”
The God Box held her prayers for many people outside our family, whether they had asked to be included or not. A few years back, Jen, my longtime business partner and friend, was unhappy to be single and buying her 11th bridesmaid dress. Though she is Jewish, she lit up when Mom told her that she had written, “Dear Jesus, Please let Jen meet the right guy.” Jen later admitted, “I didn’t necessarily believe it would work, but I figured the more people pulling for me, the better.” Soon thereafter, she and her boyfriend, Greg, got married. After Mom’s death, I told Jen that I had found a slip in the box that read, “Please cure Sue,” referring to Jen’s mother, a breast cancer survivor. Jen was stunned. “They never even met,” she said.
The pleas that hit me hardest were those in which Mom asked for an end to her suffering from the incurable blood disease that plagued the last 25 years of her life. “Memorial Day, 1994: Please hear me. My mouth is very sore. Please cure it and cure my platelet problem. I thank you, and I love you.” “July 6, 2000: My dearest Ray cannot bear to see me like this. These past days make me feel weak, tired, and just miserable. You have answered so many of my requests for my family. Help the Dr. find an answer.” And “March 2003: Please, God, give me the answer to restoring red blood cells.”

Despite the unrelenting progress of her disease, her faith never flagged. As I read her words, I realized that she had hidden the worst of her ailments from all of us. Writing in the box must have been the one place she could fully express herself.

Without Mom, I didn’t keep up the tradition. Maybe I believed in the God Box only because I believed in her. Instead, I relied on what I had inherited from her, an ability to persist through life’s messes. As a natural fixer (I run my own women’s marketing business), I figured that if I just focused my energies hard enough, I could handle anything.

Our lives moved along in a mostly predictable fashion. Dad stayed in their Florida home. Jack became the CEO of a Dallas-based technology company. Joe and I celebrated our 30th anniversary in 2008. The God Boxes gathered dust.

Then, one night this past March at 2 a.m., my nearly 92-year-old father fell. A brain scan exposed severe late-stage cancer. Jack and I sat by his side around the clock, calling on every resource we could devise or afford. Despite our best efforts, he weakened day by day. The inevitable outcome was tearing me up inside. For the first time since losing Mom, there was something I couldn’t fix. Yet I couldn’t accept the idea of letting him go, either.

Alone with Dad on April 17, exhausted and desperate, I grabbed a piece of lined yellow paper and scrawled, “Dear God (and Mom), Dad has been so strong for so long. I know you don’t want him to be in pain. I never thought I could ask this…but please bring Daddy to heaven, into your arms. Thank you, Always your girl, Mary Lou.” I folded it small and put it in one of Mom’s old God Boxes. I felt her calming hand on me. My heart finally lifted. And Dad died peacefully three days later.
That was my first entry into my own God Box, which I’ve kept ever since, though not as faithfully as Mom had. But I love to open her boxes from time to time, fingering the tiny scraps written in her urgent, loving hand. I’m so grateful that she left me this gift. Every day, I try to maintain my faith, to believe as fully as she did. As she taught me, it doesn’t hurt to ask.  This article can be found at Real Simple: http://www.realsimple.com/work-life/family/relationships/inside-god-box-00000000045743/index.html

Epiphany

I had an Epiphany today - I really did!  It was like one of those "duh!" moments when it finally clicks with you even though you've heard it a hundred times. So, do you want to hear what it was?!

This year has been a challenging year.  With all of the budget cutbacks, it has loaded many of us with more than we feel like we can handle.  I am in the classroom many times throughout the week teaching counseling lessons to kindergarten through sixth grade.  I really do enjoy that!  I also enjoy working with students one-on-one and in groups but the enormity of the caseload of students to the amount of time that I have to see them is staggering.  I have often felt so ineffective because of that and then today it hit me - the loaves and fishes story.  Or, as my mentor, Dr. Gay Hubbard would say: give God your measly sardines and bread crumbs and see what He does with them. Today, I realized that although I don't have the time that I would like to have with these students that it is all that I do have.  We are to use what we have and trust the outcome to God.  It is, after all, His story.  What about you?  What is your sardine and bread crumb story?

Reminiscing

Turn Around

Where are you going, my little one, little one

Where are you going, my baby, my own?

Turn around and you're two, turn around and you're four

Turn around and you're a young girl going out of my door

Turn around, turn around

Turn around and you're a young girl going out of my door

Where are you going, my little one, little one

Little dirndls and petticoats, where have you gone?

Turn around and you're tiny, turn around and you're grown

Turn around and you're a young wife with babes of your own

Turn around, turn around

Turn around and you're a young wife with babes of your own

Turn around, turn around

Turn around and you're the young girl going out of the door

Where are you going, my little one, little one

Where are you going, my ba-by, my own?

(song by Malvina Reynolds)

Do you remember this song? Every time I hear it, I get teary eyed and no more so than this year. This year my daughter graduates. She is the youngest and her brothers have been gone for a few years. Don’t you wonder where the time goes?

Wasn’t it just yesterday that you were curling her hair for her first dance recital? Wasn’t it just yesterday when she poured red nail polish on the brand new carpet and then asked if you were going to call the police? (I love that one). Wasn’t it not too long ago that a boy broke her heart, that she got her driver’s license, that she hugged you and said that she just needed her mom? Now, she is on the last half of her senior year, trying to decide what college to go to and continuing to grow into a beautiful young woman. She is everything that I dreamed she would be. This post is not only for moms getting ready to prepare their children for the next chapter of their life but especially for you, my beautiful daughter. I am so very, very proud of the young woman you are and the woman you are becoming. I am blessed!

Please visit to Beverly, our wonderful Pink Saturday hostess.

2nd Week of Hope

The other night I was at a basketball game where my daughter was cheerleading and some of the basketball moms were hosting a potato bar and brownie for dessert.  As I was going through the line the gal at the end of the line asked me if I wanted a brownie and I said, “No thank you.”  She laughed and said, “Oh yeah, this is the second week of the year – our diets are still good.”  I laughed because it was funny.  You know why it was funny?  You do, don’t you?  Because it is true!  Because it is you….er I mean, me.  Yes, she is right.  It is the second week of the year and typically not high on my list of favorite weeks….the nights seem long (until I have to get up), the weather is cold (and I like cold), and things hoped for seem far off….or are they?  Proverbs 29:18 says, “Where there is no vision the people perish.”  That is so true!  If we don’t have anything to look forward to, then we lose hope.  Thank goodness that we were given brains to think with and dreams to dream.  Did you ever think that maybe those dreams you have are the same dreams that God has for you?  You know, He really does have your best interest at heart.  What does your vision of hope look like?

Put the Hope in Dysfunction

Remember the old saying, “Put the fun in dysfunction”? Well, how about if we put the hope in dysfunction? Anybody out there have a little dysfunction in their life? Last week I spoke about hope and how we can be a participant in it. We participate in many ways and it isn’t a one size fits all, but rather what is right for you. Whether we are waiting or doing what we believe is the right thing to do, there is always something that we can do. If it’s not working then perhaps we should look at it from a different perspective. That’s where that “ask the right question” thing comes in. How many of you have listened to a speaker that you really looked up to and heard them talk about “healing relationships?” You know, they say things like “maybe this is the year” or “what can you do” or “God wants us to have good relationships with each other” (true, but more on that later). How does that make you feel? Have you been one of those people that heard that and “hoped” that this might be the year or thought “what can I do”, “what should I have done”, etc? Well, I would have to agree that God does want us to have good relationships, but He also knows that we live in a broken world. How many of us hang onto beliefs such as “when this relationship is healed, then I will be okay”. Maybe you haven’t said those exact words, but maybe you have believed that your life can only be okay “when this happens” or “that happens.” That kind of belief system keeps us stuck because we truly believe that we will only be okay “when this thing happens.” Well, what if it doesn’t happen? Does that mean that we won’t be okay? I don’t think so. I don’t know about you, but I don’t want to go around believing that certain things need to happen before my life will be okay. If I did believe that, then I would be living not only a miserable life but also a lie. The truth is that you are okay. If you have a relationship with God then you must know that you and God are enough. That statement right there gives me hope. What more do you need? How about it? Is there some hope in dysfunction?
stress / family / relationships

Happy Pink Saturday to you

Don't you just love this saying?! Years ago I thought that it would be fun to run a bed and breakfast...you know, the elegant Victorian look, having high tea by the cozy fireplace, decorating each bedroom and bath..... and then it occurred to me  - breakfast.  Yep, that did it for me.  It's not that I don't like breakfast, because I do - cinnamon rolls, gourmet egg casserole, fresh berries, piping hot coffee with fresh cream.  The problem is, I would have to be the one to get up and fix it...You are looking at a non-morning person.  They say that you know if you've had enough sleep because you feel refreshed when you wake up.  Huh?!  I cannot remember ever feeling that way.  It doesn't matter if it is 5:45 or 8:00, refreshed is not in my vocabulary at that particular moment.  Now give me about 10-15 minutes and a cup of coffee (with cream) and I'm much better.  So, for now I will settle with going and staying at a bed and breakfast and enjoying being spoiled under someone elses care. Speaking of, several years ago my husband and I stayed at the wonderful Tarabino Inn at Trinidad, CO - and look - it's even PINK!  It was wonderful and we were spoiled.  If you haven't experienced a bed and breakfast before, put it on your bucket list.  (Picture is from historictrinidad.com)

My next picture is a cottage that I made from the sleeve of a sweater.  I belong to an art group and we have a Christmas party every year.  This year we were to buy something from a thrift shop and make something out of it, so this was my idea.  I like how it turned out.

The last picture was really supposed to be in my sidebar but I couldn't get it there. So, I am posting it here.
Christie is having a give away and it is so gorgeous.  The last day to sign up for this is Sunday, so go on over. You must first go to Shabbyfufu.com and follow the directions for the giveaway.  You will enjoy her beautiful website as well.  Last, but not least, be sure to visit Beverly, our lovely PINK hostess at http://howsweetthesound.typepad.com/my_weblog/pink-saturday/.  I hope that your Saturday is full of lovely PINK blessings!

http://chateaudefleurs.blogspot.com/



Do We Participate in Hope?

Do we participate in hope?  I think so.  What is it that you hope for?  To lose weight? Be debt free? Be organized? Have a relationship healed? Not being in pain - emotionally or physically?  Wanting your life to improve in some way?  Wanting someone else's life to improve?  What is it that you can do? 
Write it down.  See, already you have done something.
Make a reasonable goal.  Rome wasn't built in a day and you aren't going to lose 20 pounds in one week. (I know...bummer).
Seek wise counsel from someone you trust.
Ask the right question. ( I was a slow learner on this one).
Be an encourager - to yourself or someone else.
Ask
Seek
Knock
Wait (expectantly) - waiting is something that we can do.
...waiting with you in hope...

How do we measure success?

So, I’m rethinking this eating right thing….I know what you are thinking….she is already giving up….No, I am just thinking how can I do this and be successful?  Well, how will I measure success with this?  If I measure it by looking great at the end of January, then I am doomed to fail.  But, if I look at it as a progression toward a healthy lifestyle change where I am eating is good for my body and my overall health is good, then that is much different.  I’m still pretty sad about the cheese thing though. 

Did you ever notice that some people have more faith in their ability to mess up than in God’s ability and willingness to make a new thing?  Is that you I am talking to?  I know it has been me before.  Take our creative endeavors…have you ever made something only to be disappointed at how it turned out?  Maybe you threw it away because you believed that it wasn’t redeemable.  Do we ever look at who we are or what we do as unredeemable?  Been there, done that.  But, I have good news for you.  There is nothing that you have done or not done that cannot be changed or made new.  We are reminded in Isaiah 43:19 that "Behold, I will do something new, Now it will spring forth; Will you not be aware of it? How about you?  Will you not be aware of it….or will you?

There is no hope in redeeming the time unless God is in it.

For those who may have wondered what 2911 Jeremiah Avenue is, it is named after a scripture that gives me great hope. For I know the plans I have for you," declares the LORD, "plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.



In fact, God has spoken to me many times lately specifically with this verse as if to say, “I hear you, I know your struggle, hang on, I have it all planned out.” I really like how The Message says it: I know what I'm doing. I have it all planned out - plans to take care of you, not abandon you, plans to give you the future you hope for. Isn’t that wonderful?!


Well, there was something that I missed for years when reading this and I think that we should take note. Beginning in verse 5 of that same chapter God says to them while they are waiting…build houses and settle down; plant gardens and eat what they produce. Marry and have children…Also, seek the peace and prosperity of the city…


I’m going out on a limb here and going to say that if you really like this verse that you too are waiting for that hope. I don’t know what it looks like for you or for me, but it is a great verse to take delight in. However, while we are waiting for that hope, God is very clear about what we are to do…we are to live! Just because what we hope for hasn’t happened yet doesn’t mean that life isn’t full of blessings – it is. God wants us to rejoice in Him and trust Him for the future and present.