Glimpses

time to say good-bye...for now

It began in May of 2004.

I had been hearing of "blogs" for some months and, Curious George that I am, I did some research, decided that having my own space in the blogosphere might be fun AND productive for my writing, and I reached out and claimed a spot just for me.

The past three and a half years have brought many changes, both in my professional life and in my personal life. I have to say that the posts on motherhood and family life have been my most favorite to write. The boys were just beginning high school when I blogged for the first time and now they are both away at college. I had two books published back in 2004 and now I have four. We've moved. I've gone back to college. Mike has become a private pilot. And I'm registered to run my first 5K this fall.

Through all of these life changes, I'd like to believe that I've only grown and matured and - hopefully - become each day more and more of the woman that God intends for me to be. Although I've posted on virtually every aspect of my life in the past few years, I truly hope that what has come through the clearest is my deep faith in God. Without Him, I lack strength of my own and everything - EVERYTHING - that I am or ever hope to be is without a doubt a gift from Him.

So it is with some hesitation, and a bit of sadness, that I announce this will be the last blog post from Glimpses. I have loved sharing with you, my friends and my readers, and who knows? - maybe I'll blog again one day. But right now I feel strongly that my attention and efforts need to be streamlined a bit. It is all too easy for me to procrastinate on my writing or put off homework for another hour or two - all in the name of blogging.

With the boys now at college and settling into their new lives, I've been taking a careful examination of my priorities and where I need to direct attention most. Two big things are on my horizon: I go back to full-time writing on Monday, the 27th, after taking the summer off and I begin fall classes the very next day, on the 28th. I want to take full advantage of this time in my life, soaking up each extra hour I'll now have with Mike, and savoring the rewards that come from a full days spent writing and attending classes.

Blogging has given me an outlet, a place to express my thoughts and feelings, and a way to sharpen some writing skills, all the while making myself accessible to readers and to friends. While I will no longer be blogging, I still want to communicate with you. Some of you are readers that I've met through my books. You'll never know how much your emails have meant to me. Please - always feel free to email me whenever you want. My friends can attest - I'm a really faithful emailer!

And for my friends - well, you know I'll still be around. I'll still have four-thousand, seven-hundred, sixty-four pictures to share with you, and I'll still be there for mid-class texts, funny emails, the occasional long lunch, and plenty of "The Gang" time!

With God's help and with a whole lot of will power and sheer effort, I plan have several new books for you to read and enjoy in the next twelve months. If you'd like to be put on an email list and be alerted when a new book comes out, please pop me a line and I'll add you right away. A quarterly e-newsletter will still go out to all those on this list.

Thank you for sharing this journey with me! I wouldn't have traded it for anything.

Staci (a.k.a. Glimpses)

An Open Letter to Me

Dear Me in 1983,

I'm sure that receiving a letter from me is the last thing you expected, huh? I can practically read your mind. Though I must seem impossibly old and out-of-date, considering that you are fifteen and a freshman in high school, here's the deal. I see you struggling with so many things right now - things like love, friendships, and your purpose in life. If I had it my way I'd fix it all and pave the way smooth and straight for you. Unfortunately, life doesn't work like that and, in the long run, you'll be happy that it doesn't. You'll find your own way in time, though you'll grow mighty impatient in the process.

You've only been out of the back brace for a few months now, but you still haven't become accustomed to the fact that it's not tightly fastened around your torso, holding your spine securely in place. The many months spent wearing it and feeling curious eyes upon you as you walked the school halls in dresses two sizes larger (to accommodate the brace) still plague you. I know it seems as though you're the square peg trying desperately to fit into a round hole, but the reality is that all of your friends are also square pegs in disguise and - if the truth be known - there are no round holes.

Life is the great equalizer. But that's another truth that you won't learn for some years. In the meantime, treasure your friends, even when it feels like they are loving you one day and whispering behind your back the next. Girls are funny like that, but they truly mean no harm. These same girls will one day grow up with very real needs and you will be one of the ones they turn to to help them pray. How're you going to pray for them if you allow bitterness and fear to creep in now?

You are a true romantic at heart, with a vivid imagination and a passion for something deep from life. Right now you think that finding love will be much like your daydreams and that this passion is meant to be spent on this elusive special person. I wish I had the words to gently tell you that real life love and passion are quite different than what you are finding on the pages of the novels we both love so much. They are no less real, or exciting, or breath-takingly terrifying - just...different.

Right now you feel like the traditional ugly duckling and you are sure that no boy, let alone any man, will ever want you for his own. But baby, this is just not true. I want to tell you to be patient, but I know you will not be. You'll make decisions because you feel like there just aren't enough choices. You'll feel like Life is going to just zoom right on by you and you'll be left behind and alone, so you will leap before looking a few times. It will hurt, I hate to say it, but you will survive and you will learn that Life is much bigger than you give it credit for. You will be a grown woman with babies of your own when you finally realize this, but that's okay. It is during these years that God becomes vibrantly real to you and you will be a woman forever changed.

You WILL find great love and great passion, but it will come in a way you never expected. This love will fulfill you and grow you, both, as a woman and as a human being. Your life will be better for having been touched by this love and, in turn, the love you give in response will be a blessing as well. You will learn that love is a multi-dimensional thing and that, when left in God's hands, it will continue to grow and thrive and excite and endure. Nothing can stop it, nothing can alter it. It just is. You already know that you have a heart that is meant to care and to shelter and to give. Protect that heart and just rest in the knowledge that - in good time, GOD's time - your heart will find it's permanent home. Again, it won't necessarily be like you are expecting. It'll be much better. I promise.

I know you envision yourself one day cuddling a daughter, but - guess what? You'll become a mother to two little boys. Even though you'll have to forego the hair bows, the Martha Miniatures, and the baby dolls, you will find endless delight and joy in these two blond-headed wonders. They will try you to no end at times, that much is for sure, but being their mom will be the best thing you will ever do. They will grow up SO fast. Do your best to treasure each moment, each milestone. Before you know it, they will be leaving home for college and you will have to release them, praying and trusting that they'll always remember some basic truths you've endeavored to instill in them. Truths that you, yourself, have yet to discover. 

You know how you write in your diary each night? How many diaries have you filled up in your fifteen years, anyway? A lot, I know that! There will be a good many years when you give up writing down your thoughts, your hopes, and your dreams. Life will become tough and complicated and keeping a daily or weekly record of it all will be the last thing on your agenda. But then one day you'll begin to write again. And this time you won't stop. Journal entries will turn into essays and essays will turn into articles that you'll eventually - hesitantly - submit for publication. After a few of them make it into print, you'll grow brave enough to tackle the stories that have always lived inside of you. Characters like Grandma Hogan, Grace, Jackson, and Ella and Luke will come to life on the computer screen in front of you. They will bless you as you pour yourself into making their stories into books for others to read and to share. It will be your hope that these stories will encourage and uplift, that they will point others to truths that God shows you while you spend so many solitary hours in writing.

You'll one day be living your dream. But it will be for real, and it will be yours. Your future is bright and beautiful. The tough times will soften you. The scary times will bolster you. The loving times will deepen you. What you will eventually embrace is that you are "fearfully and wonderfully made." Psalm 139:14 will become YOUR verse. If I could tell you anything right now, it would be to trust God. Laugh, love, and live your life. It's really that simple. Everything else has a way of working itself out. You are going to be fine. No, wait. You are going to be more than fine.

Love and prayers,

Your 2007 Self

 

My life as a 5K trainee...

Today is Friday, the third day of August, and I - Staci Wilder - just completed my first week of 5K training! Only...<gulp> EIGHT. MORE. gut-wrenching, sweat-drenching delightful. WEEKS.

Eight.

I can do this.

In honor of this effort, and the efforts of women everywhere who are trying to fight their way to fitness, here's something to make us all smile! Enjoy!

A WEEK AT THE GYM: ONE WOMAN'S STORY

Dear Diary...

For my 40th birthday this year, my husband purchased a week of personal training at the local health club for me. Although I am still in great shape since playing on my college tennis team 20 years ago, I decided it would be a good idea to go ahead and give it a try.

I called the club and made my reservations with a personal trainer named Joe, who identified himself as a 26-year-old aerobics instructor and model for athletic clothing and swimwear. My husband seemed pleased with my enthusiasm to get started!

The club encouraged me to keep a diary to chart my progress...

MONDAY

Started my day at 6:00 a.m. Tough to get out of bed, but found it was well worth it when I arrived at the health club to find Joe waiting for me. He is something of a Greek god - with blond hair, dancing eyes and a dazzling white smile.

Woo Hoo!!

Joe gave me a tour and showed me the machines. He took my pulse after five minutes on the treadmill. He was alarmed that my pulse was so

fast, but I attribute it to standing next to him in his Lycra aerobic outfit. I enjoyed watching the skillful way in which he conducted his aerobics class after my workout today. Very inspiring!

Joey was encouraging as I did my sit-ups, all though my gut was already aching from holding it in the whole time he was around. This is going to be a FANTASTIC week!!

TUESDAY

I drank a whole pot of coffee, but I finally made it out the door. Joe made me lie on my back and push a heavy iron bar into the air - then he put weights on it! My legs were a little wobbly on the treadmill, but I made the full mile. Joey's rewarding smile made it all worthwhile. I feel GREAT!!

It's a whole new life for me.

WEDNESDAY

The only way I can brush my teeth is by laying the toothbrush on the counter and moving my mouth back and forth over it. I believe I have a hernia in both pectorals. Driving was OK as long as I didn't try to steer or stop. I parked on top of a GEO in the club parking lot. Joe was impatient with me, insisting that my screams bothered other club members. His voice is a little too perky for early in the morning and when he scolds, he gets this nasally whine that is VERY annoying.

My chest hurt when I got on the treadmill, so Joe put me on the stair monster. Why in the world would anyone invent a machine to simulate an activity rendered obsolete by elevators?

Joe told me it would help me get in shape and enjoy life. He said some other crud too.

THURSDAY

Joe was waiting for me with his vampire-like teeth exposed as his thin, cruel lips were pulled back in a full snarl. I couldn't help being a half an hour late. It took me that long to tie my shoes.

Joe took me to work out with dumbbells. When he was not looking, I ran and hid in the ladies room. He sent Muffy to find me. Then, as punishment, he put me on the rowing machine -- which I sank.

FRIDAY

I hate that jerk, Joe, more than any human being has ever hated any other human being in the history of the world. Stupid, skinny, anemic, little cheerleader! If there was a part of my body I could move without unbearable pain, I would beat him with it. Joe wanted me to work on my triceps. I don't have any triceps! And if you don't want dents in the floor, don't hand me the bloody barbells or anything that weighs more than a Sonic Route 44 Diet Coke. The treadmill flung me off and I landed on a health and nutrition teacher. Why couldn't it have been someone softer, like the drama coach or the choir director?

SATURDAY

Joe left a message on my answering machine in his grating, shrilly voice wondering why I did not show up today. Just hearing him made me want to smash the machine with my planner. However, I lacked the strength to even use the TV remote and ended up catching eleven straight hours of the Weather Channel.

SUNDAY

I'm having the Church van pick me up for services today so I can go and thank GOD that this week is over. I will also pray that next year my husband will choose a gift for me that is fun -- like a root canal or a hysterectomy.

I Am From

I am from wooden clothespins, from large boxes of powdered Tide and freshly laundered clothes hung out on the line in the backyard to dry.

I am from the cozy 3-bedroom, 2-bath home on Bayshore Dr., where pink & red shag carpet lined my bedroom wall-to-wall. I am from the Mimosa trees in the front yard, the tree house in the back, and from the red rose bushes with the awful thorns that grew each Spring on the side of the house.

I am from neighborhood get-togethers, from summertime homemade ice cream, and from Vienna Sausages and pork 'n beans eaten at roadside parks while on vacations. I am from Rudy and Nancy, from Glen and Leona, and from Dewie and Marie.

I am from days of playing Nancy Drew, singing along to vinyl-coated 45s, and crushing on Parker Stevenson and Shaun Cassidy. 

I'm from Barbies and a baby doll named Rosie, but I'm also from the land of Legos, army men, Evel Knievel - and anything else my younger brother happened to be doing.

I am from readers and learners, from hard workers, from tin lunch boxes and a leaky Thermos. I am from stubborness and bull-headedness, from loud talking, from genorosity and from laughter.

I am from the small pink-bricked United Pentecostal Church in the heart of town. The one that many perceived to be on the wrong side of the tracks, but the very one where Easter picnics, spaghetti suppers, and hour-long messages from a dear silver-headed preacher make up some of my most prized childhood memories.

I'm from Texas, through and through, from gulfshore streams to the Piney woods, and right here to the bustling metroplex. I'm from history buffs, story tellers, and lovers of all things Christmas-y.

I am from "perserverence and persistence" and from "love God and love others." I'm from recycled plastic ware and grocery sacks, long before "going green" was the going thing.

I am from school carnivals and sleep-overs, from family holidays with turkey and cornbread dressing and Pepto-Bismol and cousins camped out on pallets in the den.  I'm from memories tucked away in cedar chests, from weightless wonders of hand-sewn quilts. I am from hope and happiness. 

I got nothin'.

I think of these three words and smile.

Every. Single. Time. 

A poor use of the English language?

Yep, prolly so...

Still, sometimes just the right person uses just the right words at just the right time...and it creates a lasting memory.

Samuel La did that for me with these three short words. With his oh-so-cute dark, soulful eyes and a slight shrug of his shoulders, he uttered "I got nothin'" literally every Sunday morning for an entire six months.

Before each lesson, my co-teacher and I would go around the room and ask each of the seven year olds to name one great thing that happened during their week. We always heard a wide range of subjects.

"I made all A's on my report card."

"My friend had a sleep-over and I got to go."

"God healed my dog. He doesn't scratch anymore."

You name it, that class of second-graders had done it, seen it, and never failed to report it. (Parents: you should be afraid, very afraid! lol)

And yet, when it was Sam's turn, he would stare off into space, trying with everything within him to conjure up some great praise report. Or...um...he gave the appearance of giving it his best shot. With a tilted head and knit brows, he'd pause and pause and pause...and pause...

"Come on, Sam. Anything. How about school? Anything great happen?"

"Hey, Sam. Tell us about some cool place you and your family went this week!"

"Sam, my buddy, tell me the funniest thing that you heard this week."

But, like clockwork, Sam's response was always the same. With a barely disguised grin, he'd finally shrug and look me straight in the eyes. "I got nothin'."

I love that little guy! I may have been his teacher each Sunday but he taught me many, many things about laughter. Now we all knew that Sam had many grand and great things going on in his life. And he knew we knew it. But it was a game and it was one in which he never, ever dropped the ball. Now whenever I want to cop out of answering a question or just feel like eliciting a smile from my family or close friends, I know just what three words to pull out of my hat.

"I got nothin'."

This is Sam, with Keilani. I miss them both since they've been promoted up to the big 'ol 3rd grade class! 

This is how I've felt lately as I've sat down at this very computer to blog. "Help! I got nothin'!" While a million-and-one things vyed for my attention I've had very little inspiration or inclination to post on any of them.

But that certainly doesn't mean that great and grand things haven't been happening in my life. And since I have absolutely nothing (still!) of true relevence to write about, I'll just tell you about what I've been up to this summer.

After a year of grueling school and writing schedules, I gave myself a gift at the beginning of this summer. A chance to get healthy. Really, truly healthy. I opted out of my scheduled Maymester and summer courses, took a month off of writing and - next to God and my family - made my health top priority.

It has taken a little while to find the rhythm that is right for my own body but, now that that rhythm has been tapped, I've settled into something that feels very, very close to harmony. Combining a concentrated effort at healthy decision-making with daily exercise, my body is slowly but surely responding in soft and subtle ways. I walk every morning, bright and early, averaging 3-6 miles per day. The day I was actually able to begin running on the treadmill without growing winded after two minutes was a red-letter day in my life.

A very wise and close friend told me years ago to "eat balanced meals and let your weight fall where it will." That can be a very scary statement for us girls, can't it? But the truth is that, after literally yo-yo dieting for most of my adult life, I am finally doing just that. And you know what? The pounds are falling off. Naturally. Without pain, without deprivation, without guilt. And that's an entirely new concept for me, let me tell you!

Does that mean that I have to say "no" to all the things I love? NO! I'm a chips & salsa girl through and through. Truly, it should be a food group all on its own, don't you think? If I was a prisoner on death row, I promise chips and salsa would no doubt be my last request. And no way am I going to give up romantic Friday night homemade pasta dinner nights with my husband! But I'm finally learning what moderation is all about. I'm listening to my body for the first time ever and I'm making a concentrated effort to give it what it needs to be healthy.

Since we banned scales from our home last year, I have no real idea what my starting weight was, or what it is now. So I'll never know the exact statistics of this summer gift to myself. But what I DO know is that I've never felt healthier, more energized, or happier. The exercise has played such a dramatic role in reducing the stress that had plagued me for months. And the insomnia I suffered from? GONE. G-O-N-E! Now I can hardly wait to crawl into my bed at night, snuggle down, and fall into a peaceful sleep.

But aside from the fact that I love that I'm feeding my body fuel that is GOOD for it, and in addition to the surprising realization that I really do love the feeling of a grueling, sweaty workout, is the best part of this whole gift to myself. I am sharing this ride with my friends. These are the women who know my struggles and my weaknesses and my bad habits. Sharing walks, Friday morning tennis games, Monday night Rough Rider games, and countless emails and IMs and texts encouraging one another to stay the course has only enriched our already amazing friendship. (Girls, I love ya!)

I know that in a few short weeks the hectic schedule will pick up again. I begin revisions on Finding Faith in two weeks, and then will be preparing the boys to head off to college in July, and will be beginning fall classes myself in August. But even as the pace increases, I pray that this summer gift to myself will only continue to blossom. Or, um...shrink. Oh, you know what I mean!

So even on days like this when it seems as though I have nothing to say, the truth is that I have more than ever!

I have God. I have the love of family and friends. I have health, and happiness, and one remarkable gift to myself.

God gifted me with one body.

The least I can do is take good care of it.

where I spend my days...

I've tried for days to think of something thought-provoking, or inspirational, or - hey - just funny, to share with you. Nothing. Nada. Not. a. thing.

"I got nothing." (More on this atrocious yet humorous use of the English language in a future post.)

Whoa! Did I actually just say I already had material for another post? Maybe my dry spell is about to end just as I'm about to admit that my creative flow must have taken a very hasty and unplanned vacation because I've had nothing of substance to offer.

So - it it's okay - I'll just share the trivial, yet meaningful. How's that for a compromise?

Last August I blogged about writing spaces. I interviewed and collected pics of office photos from twelve of my writing friends and posted them, secretly getting a thrill out of "seeing" where all the inspiration takes place.

Fast forward to the present and I'm now sitting in my newly put-together office, tucked away in a corner bedroom of our new house. Now since I've always officed out of our bedroom, you may be wondering why THIS room rates blog-worthiness. Well - for starters - there is no BED in here!

It is an honest-to-goodness, office-only, writing space. For me. Just me.

 

To say that I'm loving this space would be a HUGE understatement but, because this is a blog and because I'm currently suffering from proper word retrieval, let's just say that...I'm lovin' it! During the daytime, natural sunlight filters in, bathing the room in a soft, almost translucent, light. And at night, my many lamps lend a homey, cheerful place that my son and his friends enjoy hanging out in.

Ooops. That's right, it's suppose to be MY space, right? But I have to say that I love having my family get as much enjoyment from it as I do. Even if that does mean that Jorge and his pals take over my computer, desk, and guest chairs many evenings!

While I write, or email, or do research, or pay bills, I am completely surrounded by things that inspire me. Photos of my family. My journal that my friend, Bonnie, made for me. A Kristin Schobert original painting. And books. Lots and lots and lots of...books! But one very special one, The Greatest Salesman in the World, has a place of prominence on my desk, where it is always very visible to me.

And there you have it. The 5 cent tour of the office of Staci Wilder. Just as soon as my scrapbook work station is set up in one corner of the room, I'll be live with pics and pans from there as well.

Until then...or until something creative decides to give me another chance, I'm signing off and going to grab a Diet Coke. 

Toodles, y'all.

Hi. My name's Staci.

If you're still checking in every now and then to see if I've had something new to say, then...bless you. You're either truly a friend, or my mother, one of the two, no doubt.

After having my nose to the grindstone for several weeks running, I'm finally at the computer with some honest-to-goodness free time and so many things to share and say that...I quite frankly have no clue where to begin.

I could talk about the move, or the fact that I took the last three finals today, ending my first year back at college. Or I could share the amazing laughs and wonderful time we had at WOW on Monday night. Or I could fill you in on Jorge's college pick, let you know that Nate comes home for the summer tonight, describe my new office, or let you know about The Wallet.

See what I mean?

I've been silent, but life has been anything BUT quiet. I will share everything in upcoming posts, but for today I think I'll just say "hey" and enjoy the ability and the time to be able to do just that.

In the frenetic pace of the past weeks, one thing and one thing alone has been my constant. This verse has been the mantra coursing through my spirit in the early morning hours and in the darkness of midnights when I've been the only one awake.  "In God is my salvation and my glory; the rock of my strength, and my refuge is in God. Trust in Him at all times; ye people, pour out your heart before Him: God is a refuge for us."

Life is a series of changes, a constantly revolving existence that very often leaves us taxed, torn, and totally exhausted. But my God is steady and sure. For that, I am so thankful. So grateful. He's truly my joy.

So - for now - I'm enjoying the refuge.

You take the time to enjoy it too!

Welcome to my world.

Oh, give me a home where boxes don’t roam!
Where the shoes and the dishes all neatly lay.
Where seldom is heard a single ‘mov-ing’ word,
And the house is not cluttered all day!

Home! Home on the new block.
Where the towels and the sheets will all reappear.
Where seldom is seen a single box ever a-gain!
And the tape dispenser officially disappears!

The sound of silence...golden? Or just lonely?

The person who seeks all their applause from outside has their happiness in another's keeping."
---Claudius Claudianus, Egyptian Latin Poet
_________________________
Writing is a solitary occupation.

On my writing days, many times I'll go for hours at a time without any real verbal communication. From the time I sit down at my desk with a steaming mug of coffee around 8:00 a.m. until I finally tie up loose ends around 3 or so, I am alone.

Although I talk - basically all day.

Or maybe I should say I listen.

I listen to Ella and to Luke...to Emma, Jackson...to Reggie...And - right now - to Faith and Marshall.

My characters constantly whisper in my ear, their animated conversations reverberating through the hallways of my mind, playing on the front porch of my conscience. They smile, they cry,they shout, and call for me, always urging me to stay around and hear what they have to say.

Is it any wonder then that on some evenings my family glances at me in curiosity, wondering if I'm okay. "Why are you so quiet tonight?"

I'm a talker by nature, a full-fledged communicator, and they know this. And yet, for these few moments I crave the silence, the peace of just...being.

I shrug. "I don't know...I guess I've used up all my words for today."

It's at that moment that I realize something. In the process of my work day I had spent six hours at the computer - hearing, feeling, seeing - a kaleidoscope of emotions, all played out on the big screen of my mind.

I've said it all.

I've heard it all.

I've felt it all.

It's time to recharge.

And how do I do this?

Solitude.

Some folks recharge their depleted proverbial batteries by losing themselves in a crowd of people. They draw a much needed jolt from the energy that is radiated off others. Though they may enter the room exhausted, this type of person will leave at the end of the night renewed, invigorated.

And then there's folks like me.

Put me in a quiet room, dim the lights, turn on some soft music, and close the door. It's only then that I begin to feel like myself again. The noise around me and inside me becomes muted, raw emotion loses its ragged edge, and calm begins to seep through the pores of my skin. Bit by bit, minute by minute, I'm infused with regenerated inspiration, renewed enthusiasm, and optimism that but a short while ago seemed all but impossible.

It's in those times, those moments of solitude, that I hear the voice of God the clearest. In my vulnerable state I'm at the very place where His gentle probing and prompting can make its way with ease through my soul.

Once again I feel the tingles of inspiration.

I see with clarity the plan He has for me.

And I listen with bated breath as He whispers encouragement to a soul that has grown parched and weary throughout the day.

It's as close to heaven as I've come, and I've learned to look forward to these times of solitude. For me, being alone is the farthest thing from lonliness. Instead, it's where I draw fresh strength, examine weaknesses, and learn the things about me that only He can teach.

Do you hear that...?

...the sound of silence calling to you?

It's golden.

I'm a happy girl.

Oprah recently asked a studio audience to take a "happiness quiz" to see just how satisfied most folks are with their life. A handful of people took the test on stage and then their stories were used on the show.

Peggy was a 44-year-old married mother of two teenage boys who works as the bookkeeper of the family business. Last year, both her father and her sister died, and her mother has been diagnosed with Alzheimer's disease. Noreen was a 52-year-old divorced mother of two college kids. She's an avid swimmer and works in the operations department of a major airline. Lachelle was 27 years old, married and has no children. She works two jobs and has two dogs. Last year, four of her friends and two of her family members died within six months of each other. David was 53 years old, and he's been a funeral director for 30 years. He is married and has two sons. Lorrie has been married for 15 years and has six children. She works in retail and also serves as the vice president of her PTA. The question Oprah posed to her audience was this: Can you tell by the appearance of these five folks who has the happiest, most fulfilling and satisfying life? Peggy, David and Lachelle scored the highest on the satisfaction scale, while Noreen and Lorrie scored the lowest. Although their respective stories each involved deaths, personal tragedy, and dealing with death on an everyday basis, they have tapped into truths that seemingly evade others. According to my psychology book, researchers have found that happy people tend to: have high self-esteem be optimistic, outgoing, and agreeable have close friendships and/or satisfying marriages have work and leisure that engage their skills have a meaningful religious faith sleep well and exercise However, happiness (contrary to popular belief) seems not much related to other factors such as: age gender education levels money and/or worldly wealth parenthood (having children or not) physical attractiveness In the today's culture, where our validity seems to be centered on things we accumulate: money, possessions, relationships - I'm afraid that we're missing out on what the real meaning of happiness is. "Things" bring temporary elevated levels of adrenalin (not necessarily happiness) that tend to plummet as soon as we adjust to our new acquisistions. A noted Dutch psychologist had this to say, "Continued pleasures wear off...Pleasure is always contingent upon change and disappears with continuous satisfaction." So that new car, new clothing, new house, new relationship, may very well bring pleasure and contentment and certain levels of pleasure...for a time. But when "the new wears off" we need something deeper, more permanently grounded within our souls, if we are to be the joyful creatures that God intends for us to be. I learned a long time ago, from a close friend, to practice the law of attraction. We can draw people, circumstances, and even certain "things" by daily practicing optimism, outward signs of joy (smile, even when you don't feel it), and - most importantly - exercising that small mustard seed of faith. Happy people attract happy circumstances. That doesn't mean that illness, hardships, and tragedy never crosses their path, but it does mean that they are not shaped by the circumstances of their life. Instead they shape their life and bring meaning to those circumstances. I'm thinking happy thoughts today. Practicing the law of attraction. Surrounding myself with like-minded people. Cherishing the relationships in my life that mean more than worldly wealth ever will. Clinging to a faith in God that has never failed me. Yep, it's official. I'm a happy girl.