Codename: Tranquility

                First Lady of the Greatest Generation

Barbara Bush

1925 - 2018

Over the course of this past week, I have kept a list of comments made about Barbara Bush. A collection of some of the finest tributes follows:

Barbara Pierce met her husband-to-be at a Christmas dance when she was sixteen. She never kissed another man. Their love story—theirs was an extraordinarily successful marriage—was one for the ages.

During World War II, she volunteered in a nuts and bolts factory.

Bar (her nickname) made 29 moves to 17 cities in 73 years of marriage.

Barbara operated with a foot in the family and a foot in the world of politics, and was known for teaching her children, "Don't get caught up in the big me."

Her favorite book was Pride and Prejudice. Her own life was a consummate good read.

"The home is the child's first school, the parent is the child's first teacher, and reading is the child's first subject." -Barbara Bush

In her commencement address to the graduating class of Wellesley in 1990, Mrs. Bush said, "At the end of your life, you will never regret not having passed one more test, winning one more verdict. You will regret time not spent with a husband, a child, a friend, or a parent."

During her life alongside the Secret Service, she once stated, “I am old and fat and have gray hair; no one will be threatened by me.”

At her death, the Secret Service said of her, “She was the epitome of class and grace both during and after her service to our country as First Lady of the United States.”

She lived a life of purpose. 

Tenderly, Jenna Bush Hagar on Today penned an emotional tribute to Barbara Bush, Remembering Ganny: We called you 'the enforcer.' It was because, of course, you were a force and you wrote the rules and your rules were simple. Treat everyone equally; don't look down on anyone, use your voices for good, read all the great books...Humor, wit, and grace are the best accessories; words matter, kindness matters, looks fade.

And most amazing of all were her words shared by her son Jeb at her funeral:

“I believe in Jesus; He is my Savior. I am ready to go.”

The content for this blog is compiled from the following sources:

Fox News

CNN News

NBC News

Today Show

Barbara Bush: A Memoir

Destiny and Power by John Meacham

What Does STOP Mean to You?

I have a bad habit that habitually gets me in trouble: I disregard ROAD CLOSED signs. Painful lessons associated with this habit have a way of never dying, perhaps because they are kept alive by new episodes.  

A recent version comes to mind. In fact, each time I drive past a certain intersection, I tremor with embarrassment. I would prefer to just turn my head and look away. The location and I share a secret I now bring myself to confess.

On a particular day, I was in a hurry and had a lot to do. Racing out of my home, I set out on the dark cloudy afternoon with low blood sugar and high expectations. Productivity was my goal, and nothing would deter.

The ROAD CLOSED sign was not part of my plan. So, I thought to myself, "That sign may be there for others, but it is not there for me. I need to use this road, and I need to use it now."

Well…this self serving attitude launched me down an asphalt version of chaos. Determination kept propelling me forward, and as long as no one was looking, I felt quite fine about “driving” ahead. Covering several miles, I assured myself this was the right decision and it would land me where I needed to be much sooner than if I had taken the well marked detour. After all, detours are for sissies. I quite relished the fact that I actually had the road all to myself.

Until I rounded a curve...and found myself face to face with two imposing versions of the latest in road equipment. Their presence left no option. I had been bested.

Forced to turn around, I struggled with a dicey three-point turn—now invoking the help of The Almighty— and barely avoided a nasty looking drop off. In a semblance of humility, I delicately drove back to the point of decision at the intersection, and all the while holding my breath that no one would see me.

Once I was back at the point of error, I dutifully took the detour. Whew. I will never do that again.

Oh really? At least not until the same opportunity came up a brief two weeks later.

Again, I found myself in the same spot, faced with the same decision. I thought, “Surely they don’t mean ROAD CLOSED still. They failed to remove the sign—this is just a good suggestion. I know can get through. After all, this way is much faster that going around. I do not have time for a detour, and I am confident I can poke my way through.

Let me spare you the details and just say, that once again I did not stop, I did not heed the warning, and I barreled right through the ROAD CLOSED sign. And, yes, I once again met the same modern day version of Balaam’s Donkey in the form of menacing pieces of road equipment.

Is STOP only a road sign, or could it possible be a life sign as well? What if we listened to the Holy Spirit and took heed when told not to proceed?

Would conversations be transformed if we obeyed STOP?

Would relationships be preserved if we honored STOP?

Would marriages be saved if we observed STOP?

Would fellowship be preserved if we respected STOP? 

Ah, but we are quick to ignore the ROAD CLOSED signs, and we rush ahead to give our opinions, defend ourselves, and pass judgment.

Why don’t we just  STOP? I am not completely sure, but I am at least attempting to be more respectful of the sign when I see it.

Living With Eternal Intentionality™

When is the last time,  in a conversation, that you should have stopped and did not? In a decision?

What Did You Say?

That is not what I said.

How often do you find yourself being served the words, “That is not what I said”?

Placing my iPhone on the kitchen counter, I chuckled. It just happened again! "That is not what I said."

Our delicate art of communication requires skill. Focus, concentration, and effort, along with expertise, ingenuity, and imagination need to coalesce like brush strokes on a canvas in the exchange of information. Three recent situations remind me of this reality.

Here they are:

In giving the details of my scheduled hand surgery, a family member groaned upon hearing a description of the anticipated 23 stitches and the repercussions for my busy life. (What I said was 2 to 3 stitches, with quite a different recovery story!)

In hearing of our friends’ European travels, I smiled and envisioned their sublime pleasure moving serenely down the Danube on a Viking Cruise ship. (What I said was biking trip—not Viking trip—in Europe.)

My colleague took his elderly father to be fitted for a hearing aid and learned, to his shock, that he, too, needed to address his hearing issues. (What I said was, “You both need hearing devices.”)

Thankfully, these situations were benign, and each contained a thread of humor. But not all life grants tolerance. You and I have opportunity to bring clarity to the canvas of communication when we mindfully apply a few intentional guidelines:

Guideline #1

Listen not only to what is said, but learn to look for what is meant. You are hearing words which only represent the tip of the iceberg. What actually is beneath the surface and is promoting the expression of content?

Guideline #2  

Pay attention to tone and body language.“That’s ok with me,” might not really be ok.

Guideline #3

Pray silently while you listen; this is one situation in life where multitasking proves profitable. 

Guideline #4

Mentally place yourself in the other person’s position and ask the Holy Spirit to give you supernatural insight in communication.

Guideline #5

Hurry harms good communication. Today’s life pace fights against clear communication. (Do you agree?) Since we often find ourselves tossing words on the fly, let us at least be cognizant of the fact that haste is not helpful.

Guideline #6

Listen to learn, yes, but most of all…listen to love.

Living With Eternal Intentionality™

“Everyone should be quick to listen, slow to speak and slow to become angry (James 1:19b)”

What recent communication snafu reminds you of your need to become a better listener?