Sharing Our Talents

Saturday, my husband and I assisted at a funeral Mass and burial.  I was the pianist & vocalist, and he, as an ordained deacon, gave the sermon and later performed the graveside service.

My husband doesn't assist at every funeral, but he did this one because years ago, he worked with the deceased.  He was a young engineer just out of college, and this man (21 years our senior) was well-established in the field.  He was a hard-working engineer:  responsible, dependable, and a mentor to the younger ones.  Therefore, my husband chose to preach on the parable of the talents - where the first servant took his five talents and doubled them, earning his master's praise.

I'm sure when he met this man 26 years ago, he could never have imagined he'd be preaching at his funeral, offering words of comfort to this family, and ultimately placing the man's cremains in his final resting place.

As I watched my husband do all this, I realized that in these 26 years together, he has taken his own talents and shared them many times over.  By doing so, he has enriched not only the lives of everyone he touches, but his own life as well.  It's not always easy or convenient to nurture and share your talent.  We might not even realize we have them to share, but we do.

It occurred to me on Sunday night that sharing our talents can have a direct impact on our health and fitness.  First of all - physically - when I spend time developing my talent, I'm not bored and fighting the mindless snacking urge.  Second - mentally - when I share my talent and serve others, it feels good.  Third - spiritually - these are the gifts that God gave me.  Someday I want to hear him say, "Well done, my good and faithful servant."

Now it is 6:30 AM.  Before I go to work, I'm going to post my blog, and get out there and run.  I hope my thoughts this morning inspire someone else to also make the most of their day and their talents.

All Things Work for Good

There's a reason I thought of this particular Bible quote today from Romans 8:28.

Nineteen years ago today, I miscarried my second pregnancy.  The pain and sadness lessened a long time ago, which is why I can write about it and share my thoughts.

When I was starting my senior year of college, my boyfriend of just over a year broke up with me.  I was devastated.  I had hoped that maybe he was "the one" and we would marry after college.  I tried everything I could to get him to see that breaking up was a mistake, but I'll never forget what he said (as kindly as he could) to me.

"I find myself thinking about the person I want to be with for the rest of my life, and I just... don't think... that's you."

Ouch.

I called my grandparents 350 miles away in Pennsylvania.  My wonderful Papa Frank answered the phone.  I told him what had happened and he said to me that in all his years of living, one thing he had learned was that everything works out for the best.  He even gave me examples from his own experience.

At the time, this really wasn't what I wanted to hear.  Maybe I wanted to hear him say that the guy would realize what a catch I was and come back.  Maybe I wanted to hear that the guy was a big jerk and I was better off without him.  However, I knew Papa loved me more than anything, and he was very smart and wise, and just maybe he was right.

Five months later, in January, I met a wonderful guy named Eddie.  When I met him, it did not take long to see how kind and giving he was and how much better suited we were to each other.  Love felt different this time around.  I think it was probably the first time I had ever really loved someone unselfishly and received the same in return.  I blogged about him on Valentine's Day.  We have been together for 26 years, and married for nearly 25.

Other sad things and difficulties have happened to me and my loved ones since I called Papa Frank in August of 1990.  He has been gone since December of 1997, but whenever I start to feel despondent, I think of that phone call.  I can hear his voice in my head as if he were standing right here.

When I had that miscarriage, Papa had been gone only two months, so thinking of his words at that time made me extra sad.  I wondered how on earth things could possibly work out for the best.  My Papa was gone.  My baby was gone.

However, life went on.  Just under a year later, I was holding a new baby boy - my second son.  Out of the tragedy of the miscarriage came the great joy he has brought to our lives.  We gave him the middle name "Franklin" - a nod to trusting the wisdom of Papa Frank and not losing hope.

There is a lot of sadness, difficulty, and tragedy in the world.  The two examples from my own life pale in comparison to what a lot of people go through.  It's normal to think nothing good can come from these situations, and sometimes it's hard to see the good.  At the very least, I think of the advice that the mother of television's Mr. Rogers gave him when he was a little boy.  She said when something scary or bad happened that he should "look for the helpers.  You will always find people helping."

The kindness and goodness of others can give us all a ray of hope in dark times.

At SparkPeople, we share each other's joys and sorrows.  We are all helpers.  Let us continue to use our collective power to support each other and work for good.

Sacrifice and Strength

Yesterday I posted a blog entry that began with St. Augustine saying that prayer is more powerful when accompanied by sacrifice.  I thought a bit more about sacrifice over the course of the day.

In the season of Lent, some Christian denominations have the practice of giving up something in spiritual preparation for Easter - a sort of self-denial and sacrifice.  I confess I never really understood this practice and I never did it.  However, in 2010, it was explained to me that it helps strengthen you.  If you can purposely deny yourself something you enjoy, it helps strengthen you to resist other temptations.  That seemed like a practical reason to try it, if nothing else.  I decided to give up "cake, cookies, candy, pie, and ice cream" for the 40 days of Lent.  This was going to be quite a sacrifice for me.

So I went a step further and decided to tie it to my prayer life by choosing one specific thing to pray for each day.  Every day, I posted that prayer intention on my Facebook timeline, mainly to help myself remember it.  When I found myself wanting to eat a sweet treat, I went to my FB page and read my prayer intention.  So I found myself praying an awful lot - much more than I would have normally.

But something else happened, which surprised me.  That was the number of "likes" I got on my daily prayer intention posts.  I even got likes from loving, caring people who are not religious.  I asked one friend about it and he said, "Hey, I figure if you think it will do something, have at it!"  In the end, my prayers, accompanied by my sacrifice, wound up being a lot more powerful by reaching so many people who joined me in prayer and support.

In a similar way, SparkPeople does the same thing.  By sharing our thoughts, our successes, and our trials, we are lifting up one another and building a powerful community.