Paths of Travel....

If there is one thing that has evolved in my life, it is the privilege of traveling.   As the young child of a farmer in SD, living modestly always, in "poverty" for who knows how many years (though we never knew it, thought of it, as poverty), I sometimes feel extravagant in my travel habits of recent years.   We were rich in family, close and extended, with the great satisfaction of hard work accomplished at the end of a day, with no thoughts of traveling far due to cost.   Many can't relate,  but my brother can.  It's that common "umbilical cord" of childhood we share.  So, when we go back to SD or ND, see houses, barns, land, graves filled with memories or heritage, it is a grateful emotion we share.  For, we are 2 "kids" going back to memories of an incredibly rich, though "poor" life.  And, we had no idea what the world was like other than what we learned in our social studies textbooks in our 2 room country school... never thinking or dreaming of getting to go beyond our existing borders.

But, we were happy and content...

It was when we were in Jr. High that Mom and Dad quit smoking.  They accomplished the hard challenge, they often said, because they would not cheat on each other.  It was then they decided to use the money they had used on cigarettes, around $400 per year, and take a family vacation.  The first trip was to the Black Hills.  Then our world opened up to Yellowstone, Tetons, the Four Corners, Grand Canyon, Utah, Montana, Wyoming,  Arizona, Denver...  Mom was a great trip planner.   We stayed in $ 6 a night hotels, when Motel 6 really was $6 a night, ate our breakfast from the cooler in the room every morning (which included the homemade donuts we had prepared the week before), and lunch came from the same cooler!  Dinner was an inexpensive eatery.  One thing was a must...  Mom felt that if we used a bathroom at a gas station, we needed to buy something.  But, it was only 1 thing.  We had to agree together what to purchase!

Sacrifice and discipline gave us family vacation.  We learned to share and to be frugal...

Our world opened up during those days.  I was most excited when in college my family allowed me to fly to Dallas with my best friend to stay with her family for a few days.  A plane ride!  It was incredible. I would have never thought it possible.  My own father always wanted to fly... and finally did at the age of 70!  The flight to Dallas was of great sacrifice for our family, when I reflect back.  It was paid for when circumstances were that I only talked to  my family 15 minutes a week on Saturday because that was all we could afford.   Only 120 miles from home, we couldn't afford the gas for me to go home more than once a semester, even at 19 cents a gallon! Family was in reach, but the budget  prevented our getting together. Yet, they had afforded a plane ticket for me to go with a friend.

Our gratitude for time together was deep... I didn't realize then the sacrifice made by others for me.

Marriage opened up another road of travel.  First to Hawaii, for a first marriage, first job.  Plane rides. Then, another marriage, trips to Pennsylvania to David's family... trips to SD and TX to mine.  Business trips to Switzerland, London, New York!  My world of travel expanded greatly and I  could not believe how wide my world was.  And, it gave much needed time together as a family, but also as a couple... giving us time and focus for each other, even though we missed those children at home!

Travel paths had a purpose beyond pleasure of tourism...

Then there were the short paths of life, with great consequence.   The paths to the hospital... 6 times over 7 years, bringing home 4 wonderful babies, each diverse, unique and recipients of a kind of love that lacks words of description or understanding.  There were also trips to graves to bury grandparents, parents, a loving husband. Paths through single parenting, empty nest, community involvement!

The shortest paths we travel can have the biggest impacts...

These days, travel paths have been in the form of celebration and reconnecting.   Celebration with each child for a job well done in college.  Celebration with close friends or "adopted" over a marriage.  Or, reconnecting with my adult children and their family.  None live closer than 10 hours, one international and I make the trips to them when needed or for fun as often as I can.  Can't tell you how many $40-$50 tanks of gas I have pumped!  Someday long trips in planes or cars may have to come to an end.  But not now.  There are precious grandbabies and wonderful adults to visit!   Can't miss birthdays or "firsts"!

                         The paths paved with gratefulness is without price. 








Here's to a tank of gas and a  path to adventure! 









And the knowledge there is no place...like home!

Here's to... what I didn't become!

When I was a junior high student, I so wanted to be a stewardess.  It was such a glorified opportunity for a young lady back then.   After all, you had to be at least 5'10", no glasses, slender and strong, young and personable...let's face it, beautiful and fit.  Any one of the stewardesses would be ready for placement on an advertisement at a given moment, yet able to fling emergency equipment in a moments time.  It all seemed so glamourous.   And, an opportunity for me to go visit places.   I couldn't see how else it would happen!   But, even in jr. high, I knew I was already failing in at least 2 counts... my height and I already wore glasses!  So, I satisfied myself on reading books about flying instead!   

As I look out plane windows these days, I am so grateful I can ask for my water or juice instead of serve the small village in the air of which I am a part!  I can enjoy the beauty I see, rather than work during the flight.   Memories of my past attempts of a waitressing job in my teens do not give me warm and fuzzy memories.  (Thankfully the owner of the restaurant was gracious to my quitting so quickly).  I was a nervous wreck. Then, while bell-hopping I spilled A&W Root beer all over my very gracious high school German teacher.  I'm just not cut out for that kind of serving!  At at least, I wasn't!  Today,  home hospitality I have achieved... and wouldn't give it up for anything!  It is a passion that is energizing to my soul...

So, here's to not being able to choose what I thought I wanted to be long, long ago... and loving my adventures of today.  I have no regret.....

And, I do like flying!

Adventure... here I come!

Family adventure for Christmas... we met half-way!
 Love these "kids"

I've been doing a lot of thinking on one of my biggest activities since my kids have grown into adults... traveling.   There will be a whole blog entry on my thoughts as travel has evolved in my life...later.  Presently, however,  I will be making my 3rd trip overseas for 2014!  Sometimes I cannot believe it. I have one son and daughter (in-law) whose career has taken me and will take me many places I would have never thought of going!  I am so glad that I have been stretched beyond my own imagination, even though there are times I dread the LONG, tight plane rides!  But the joy and fun of seeing my 7 "blessings" environment and daily lives, international or domestic, among a community of people is so heartwarming!  And, when I get to participate in serving or helping with them... I love that!  Visiting life overseas or in America lets me have windows into international/other peoples lives, beyond tourism.  That makes a trip extraordinary for me.

One thing is for sure, whether it be America, Israel, France, China, or Honduras, the wonderful thing of  travel is that on the other end or with me,  there are people for which I love and care.  Sure, call me a "people person", it is accurate.  Call me a woman of adventure, that too is more accurate than I ever thought.   I just know it is a delight that whether at home, or on a traveling adventure, there are people I care for and love that I miss no matter where I am.  That makes life wonderful!

Adventure, jet lag, sleeping sitting up,  here I come... again!  And there are 2 of the "kids" I love on the other end!

... And, yes, I am the short one in the pic!  It's been that way most of their lives!

Foundations....

My brother and I recently made a trip back to our childhood home .  We come from a small ranch in the middle of South Dakota.  Our father's heritage was deeply rooted in the founding of a town in North Dakota.  This time, we made a trek through the country to visit with our land tenants in both states, and to visit as many aging family members as possible in a short amount of time.

The Driveway from home....

It will always intrigue me how I feel as I cross the border into South Dakota; it's the feeling of "going home".  After so many years and establishing memories of great magnitude (marrying, having my children, life and death of loved ones) in another place I call home, it's hard to describe or even understand why I still feel this way when I return to South Dakota. Indeed, I have now lived in Oklahoma more than half of my life, but there is a familiar and welcoming comfort in the place of my upbringing.  I suspect it has to do with wonderful memories of parents that loved us well in many ways, extended family celebrations, the "music in the walls" when all we could afford to do for recreation was drag out the 6-7 different instruments to sing and play songs.   There were the family vacations taken with money saved when Mom and Dad quite smoking cigarettes, and the unity felt in hard, grueling work that comes with ranching in blazing hot sun or white-out blizzards.  Whatever the reason, there is a stirring inside... and I suspect my brother feels it as well.

The house step

The beloved barn

We always visit the homestead site.  It has gone from childhood haven with house, garden, and sheds to just the old barn and the house foundation.    Where the door used to be remains the step upon which my Uncle Ted would sit with me and teach me about the horses.  We would gaze and wonder at the stars in the evening as they came out, marveling at God's handiwork.  Though the present-day landscape lacks the evidence of busy ranching, the barn casts shadows of remembrances.  During this last visit, we walked into it through it's sliding doors and stood beside the mangers remembering the games on horseback, like water tag, barrels and stake riding, rounding up cattle with Dad, or the early morning saddling sessions to pack ourselves and our books for a 3.5 mile ride to our country school.  We found a pail with the rusty shadow of the Phillips 66 shield.  We laughed and wondered together on the foreshadowing of the major role in my life Phillips would have after I left South Dakota as my husband David worked for them his whole career, as now does a son.   I could almost see life smiling mischievously on the intersection of my youth and adulthood!

One of many  mangers

We looked down into the house foundation, now used as a dump. I remembered the stairs down to the basement for safety in storms, the coal furnace where Dad would shovel the coal morning, noon and night to keep his family warm during the harsh Dakota winter. There was an area for separating the milk and another for bringing the new-born calves or piglets for rub downs under a warm light when they had decided to arrive in the bitter cold.   Then there was the cellar for food storage. Carrots stuck in a crock with sand for preservation, jars of canned goods, with the very occasional snake seeking the cool damp comfort from hot summer days.   Our laundry area consisted of  ringer and 4 tubs (one with an agitator, 2 for rinse, the last for the rung-out clothes). For a moment, I could see the shadow of yesterdays form: Mom and I, shifting wrung-out clothes from tub to tub, finally carrying the baskets full of clothes up the stairs and out to the clothes lines to hang and dry.  The kittens and dog wrapping around our feet in affection as we worked.

The house foundation

As I reflect on all of these things, and there is so much more, this place is the touchstone, the foundation, if you will, that gave my brother and me our balance in life.  As I look back, in todays standards, it was a hard, rugged life.  But, my brother and I didn't know or see it as such.  We lived life in thankfulness for those around us, a warm house (though we could see our breath in our beds at night during harsh winter nights) and food.  We were even grateful for the very hard work we helped to accomplish every day as a member of our family. Indeed, that "hard" life, was and still remains today, a most "blessed" life, one that we revisit once in awhile, with respect and appreciation. Indeed, it is the first foundation for our grateful hearts, our work ethic, and how we value and communicate our love and care to others.  

Perfect?  No.   But, it was a steady foundation, with a commitment to each other in spite of one another's faults. And, after all these years, that foundation, though a bit roughed up, remains.  We can visit and touch it, and amazingly, as we leave, we carry that foundation to other places.  To our families, our friends, our community.

Life is indeed reflective of our foundations. Those built for us and those we choose to build ourselves. And, we have the privilege of repairing them, or passively letting deterioration take its effect.   I remain thankful for how faith has molded my foundation through life's great joys and intense pains.  I have a deep abiding gratefulness for the foundation laid for me on some number of acres on a ranch in South Dakota many years ago by loving, imperfect parents.  Yet the one foundation that surpasses all is the foundation of God's loving plan for my life, and my ultimate home with Him.   Without the latter, all foundations falter and crumble under pressure.   Indeed, it matters on which foundation I build.

"In His kindness God called you to share in His eternal glory by means of Christ Jesus.  

... and He will place you on a firm foundation."  I Peter 5:10

Why Life Coaching?

I was sitting at a coffee shop in Denver one morning with a dear friend of our family. "V" became part of us during my son's college years, and quickly became an “adopted” (in my heart anyway), along with other college/young adults I have been privileged to know and love.  Each, being so wonderfully endowed with gifts and personality to accomplish great goals in life, have brought joy as I often have had the privilege to dig into their thoughts over the years, and then watch their lives unfold.  This time, the tables were turned on me.  “V” asked the question…

“So, Mama C.  Tell me about this life coaching.  What brought you to this place? “

He caught me off guard.  It was good for me to ponder how to articulate an answer to that question.  Initially, I had dismissed the thought I would be able to do such a thing well, reflective of my lack of confidence. But, through encouragement and excitement related by others, I started classes.  As I studied, I became energized. It was what I loved to do.   When I questioned my abilities, I became intimidated and unsure. Though many “adopteds", friends, family and even casual acquaintances were verbally thrilled and encouraging, it was hard to step out.   In the wake of procrastination and doubt came the realization that I needed to heed my own exhortation, that we each have been given abilities and gifts, and the tools to use them well.

After a time of reflecting inwardly, I finally answered.  “It is because we all need someone to come along side of us to accomplish goals.   I finally concluded I needed to use my abilities in a more expanded manner and to pursue the training to do so.   I had to actively believe I have everything I need to accomplish the challenges in going forward.  Besides, the reward is great. In guiding others and watching them flourish there is deep joy.  I want to walk with people in hard paths to their great joy."

Then I gave "V" what I call my "credibility listing."  The joy present in the "trenches" of my unpredictable life, is evidence of choices in my living and faith, giving substance to my coaching.   I often say when speaking to women, “I would have been just another casualty alongside the road of life, except that I knew One who made my path sure.”   

In the days that follow, I will open windows into those rooms of my life that I did not want built, nor did I feel I could manage.  Survival was a hope.  But there is more than survival in facing real life.  “Life can be sure”.   I am convinced that the Giver of gifts also provides the tools needed to apply them, even when roadblocks appear...and that I am evidence.

Yep, “V”…. I am doing this thing called, “life coaching”.  

Thanks for asking.