Live a Great Story

Last year I read Donald Miller's A Million Miles in a Thousand Years...okay, I read it three times. It was a catalyst to change the way I looked at the world. At first, I thought I just picked it up at the right time of my life but I just looked at it again and that was not it at all. As I glance through all my underlines and notes, it still hits me smack in the face.


The premise of his book is that we need to be living great stories with our  lives or as author, Jim Wallis writes, "The world is full of great challenges, terrible tragedies and overwhelming joys--there is simply too much going on to be part of a boring story." Recently I saw Donald Miller interviewed about his book and he said something that really made me think. He said we need an inciting incident to throw us into a story. For him, it was to sign up for a cross-country bike ride to raise money for clean water wells. He had no idea how it would pan out but he decided to throw himself into a story. That decision changed the course of his life.

Last week I bought the sign pictured above and hung it over our TV since we spend a great deal of time staring in that direction. I thought it would serve as a good reminder not to waste my life away. It may not seem like a big deal to waste a moment cause how long is a moment...a blip in your life??? It was probably just a blip when Donald had the chance to sign up for that ride. It was probably just a blip when you first laid eyes on your spouse, probably a blip when you crossed the line of faith, or said "yes" to volunteer for a worthwhile endeavor. You see the moments that we let slip by can turn into moments that throw us into life-changing stories. Maybe not always life-changing..maybe just life renewing like calling everyone around the dinner table instead of eating in front of the TV. Donald goes on to say that we need to be intentional with our lives...no one lives a meaningful story with their lives if they don't get off the couch!

What moments do you need to seize today? What story do you want to write with your life? Have you recently said, "no" to an opportunity that was scary, inconvenient, difficult or seemed so far out of your comfort zone that there was no way you would engage? These may be the very things that will throw your life into a tail-spin and it just might end up being a great adventure, for a great cause, a story worth repeating. Recognize those little moments, grab them, and let the story carry you away. What are you waiting for? 

Miss Cow Queen

Mom and me...both white headed...mine camouflaged 

I recently read Ann Romney's tribute to her wonderful mother. Her mother must have done an okay job, cause Ann seems to have her act together. I know this tribute won't get picked up on the AP but my mom most certainly deserves to be honored in the web sphere.


It's crazy to think about how different her upbringing was than mine and just 24 years separate us. Mom has an interesting past. She is full of colorful stories about growing up in a rural area in southeast Missouri in a much different time. Her name is Melba. She is one of seven kids and her mom, Nellie, my grandma, deferred to relatives when it came to naming of the offspring. She has no idea who came up with Melba but she also has brothers, Ether Lee and Bedford Ray...both unusual names. My mom was 11 when her mom gave birth to her youngest sister. Back then, folks didn't talk about pregnancy...I guess cause people would know what you've been up to. My mom was ushered to her grandma's house and when she came home the next day, there was a baby. It never even dawned on her where it came from...she was just excited to have a sister instead of another ornery brother. Her dad, John Coats, was a farmer during the week and a Baptist preacher on the weekends. He only had an elementary school education and the only book he ever read was the Bible. He could barely write but could preach an hour sermon by memory. My mom's weekends were filled with church and funerals, cause they knew everyone in their little town. She was not allowed to wear swim suits or dance but I think she somehow got around that rule cause I have seen pictures. When she was in high school (graduated in a class of 32) she was named Queen of something. She was wearing one of those classic tulle dresses of the 50's and had a crown on her head. It was handmade of cardboard and foil to add some shine. My sister and I always thought it was shaped like cow horns so we referred to her as the "Cow Queen". I don't think she appreciated our mocking.


When she was a very young woman, she saved her money and bought a brand new 57 Chevy. She told us she would drive that car 100 miles an hour down gravel roads just for fun. A couple of years later, she met my dad, he loved that car, so he married her. Shortly after they married the car was sold, probably to pay for me.     It's kinda ironic cause my parents divorced after 18 years and my mom got a beautiful Chevy convertible in the settlement...what goes around, comes around.


My mom's small town roots shaped her and thus shaped me. I learned to value family, laughter, church, comfort food and story telling. When I was a kid and we were visiting my grand parents, we would all go to church, then come home to a huge family dinner with all the relatives. My grandma's house was small so lunch, which was called dinner, (and dinner...supper) was served to the men and kids first...men at the table and cousins out on the service porch. After the men were finished, they got up and then the women would sit down and eat. I know this seems weird now, but nobody cared. I loved sitting down with all the aunts cause they told great stories and there would be tons of belly laughs. After lunch, I would go sit on the porch swing with my grandma and all the others would pull up a chair or just sit on the wooden porch and we would just hang. Sometimes we would have relay races around the house and even my grandma would race us in her house dress and barefooted. 


My mom was pretty independent and self sufficient as a young woman and she nurtured that in me. She was not a helicopter parent. She did not make my school projects, take me to school, pick out my clothes, bake (she did enjoy a ding dong in the microwave), and buy me everything I wanted...we did a lot of "window shopping"...code for "we are not buying anything today." She always had a job so when she did show up at my school, I felt on top of the world and because she showed up dressed for work, all my friends thought she was beautiful and stylish.


My mom only spanked me twice in my life and both times it was for my smart mouth but we always made up. I think I sat on her lap even when my feet were dragging on the ground...she had a great lap. My mom was the kind of mom that wouldn't spell a word for me but would yell in my room, "look it up." Yep, I learned pretty young to be self sufficient, not because she was neglectful, but because she values that. Finally my mom said, "Yes" as much as she could and if she told me no, I guess she had a good reason. Maybe that is why I still hate to be told no.


I enjoy spending time with my mom. When we go to lunch, she always buys and when we go shopping, she opens her wallet too. Recently, we were at the Apple Store...her first visit. She didn't stay in there long. When I was finished, I went outside and asked her why she left. She responded that the place freaked her out...like she was visiting the future and she was overwhelmed. She said, "Teri, one day in the future I bet they will make a phone where you can see the other person you are talking to." I said, "Mom, let me introduce you to FACE TIME." She gasped and said something to the effect of "Stop the planet, I want to get off!"  Fun times!


Thanks Mom for being present in my life. Thanks for teaching me about God. Thanks for being patient, kind, loving, truthful. Thanks for teaching me that some dresses require a slip, how to iron a dress shirt and cut off all hanging threads. Thanks for being my biggest cheerleader. Thanks for letting me pick on you cause you're a democrat. Thanks for picking out my husband, encouraging my kids, and the five million lunches you have bought me but most of all, thank you for teaching me how to laugh at myself and not sweat the small stuff!  I love you Melba Florene!