Vision Enlarged: How the Master Mentor Leads us to Mission Accomplished

I am not a painter.

In the beginning, when brushes were handed out, canvases supplied, and instruction lovingly shared, I must have been comfortably and quietly journaling on a secluded, little white cotton cloud.

I was recently confronted with my own lack of talent with the brush.

It was my youngest daughter's eighteenth birthday celebration, and we all attended an art class to celebrate. My casual creation of a simple daylily on an 8x10 canvas easily filled any longing I might have had to paint for at least a few years.

But as I drove home I felt heaven whisper a call.

A call for me to live a little bigger.

To dream a little larger.

To become a little more.

In that moment I felt that painting outside my self-created-imaginary-lines and onto a canvas more than three times the original size would encourage the expansion of my mindset and belief in my potential.

Once the decision was made, I traveled directly into my own personal metaphor.

I found a picture of what I most wanted to create. Something that would fill me with vision. It boasted a beautiful grove of trees in early spring. The colors included soft browns, shades of purple, periwinkle, yellow-green and peach. I was delighted to find something meaningful that blended with the color scheme in my office. Why paint a 30x30 picture you'd be ashamed to display in a prominent place?

But as I looked at that picture, I had no idea how I would do it. I wasn't even sure of my first step.

I called a friend who is a great artist and asked her to mentor me.

Looking at the blank page was completely overwhelming, but with her developed talent, I breathed more deeply, knowing she would help me through the process.

And it was a process.

She first had me sketch the image I desired, which provided a foundation or a blueprint of what was to come. Just spending time putting pencil to paper connected me with my goal, and continually referring to my vision kept me in line. I could compare my progress with it to be sure I was on the right track.

Next I was directed to paint the green background surrounding the first cluster of trees. With ease and confidence, my mentor showed me how to create the proper brushstroke and mixed the paint to create the matching hues in my vision.

I followed her lead, timidly filling in the yellow green, drying it, and repeating for each small section.

My progress was slow, but deliberate, and I awaited further instruction before moving on to the next steps.

I moved to the foreground, filling it one area at a time, then to the tree trunks, and so on. After the entire base layer was completed, the painting began to take on dimension and shape through added color and texture.

Mistakes were swiftly repaired as she taught me how to use a small, stiff brush and a little water to scrub off the error and easily remove the paint with a paper towel. In those selected spots, my canvas was white again.

I learned how to highlight and soften edges, how to distinguish between the background and foreground, and how to interweave colors so they would pop.

At one point I became rather anxious. I was afraid we were approaching the end of the project, and it still seemed kind of flat to me – but my mentor came in and helped add some definition to a few trees and added a darker brush strokes in various places in the foliage. This made all the difference.

It was the touch of and the direction given by the master's hand that took the work of a novice and made a beautiful piece of art.

The parallels between the master painter and the Master of my soul are moving.

On the wall facing my desk hangs my masterpiece, a daily reminder of my own process coming to better know Him.

• God has bigger plans for us than we have for ourselves.

• He will help us find a vision of those big plans if we go to Him for help and allow Him to mentor us.

• It's important to keep our vision before us so we can compare our progress with our end goal.

• As we look to the Master, He will help us recognize each step to reach our dreams.

• Our goal becomes more attainable when it's broken down into smaller, bite-sized actions.

• Each completed step brings further dimension and joy to our journey.

• When we make mistakes, the Master is poised and ready to show us how to make the canvas of our lives clean again.

• Finally, after all of our best, but imperfect efforts, the Master adds the last simple details to our lives to make of us a stunning work of art.

If you are ready to expand your vision, I would love to help.

Are You Locked Behind Your Own Insecurities? You Can Make a New Choice

Neutral. 

Lifeless. 

Invisible. 

As I looked into the mirror after applying a soft mauve to my lips, I wondered why I had chosen that color when it’s so unflattering on me.

In preparing for my morning appointment, I was deliberate in my choice. I had a meeting with an individual who, in times past, was a little intimidating to me. I don’t think that was ever their intention, but there were times I walked away feeling a little smaller.

Awareness came in my bathroom mirror, and I suddenly recognized that my color choice was a subconscious effort to disappear a little. Perhaps to have my presence a little quieter. A little less noticeable. Or to not show up at all.

In that moment I got mad. Not at the situation. But at me for not showing more respect to myself. 

I grabbed a few squares of toilet paper and erased any trace of that muted lip stain. I then applied a bold, saturated hue to my lips while almost yelling in my mind, “ I CHOOSE TO SHOW UP.”

I could now meet my gaze in the mirror and even smile. My attitude became brighter, my confidence increased, and my meeting was a great success. 

Have you ever done this? Have you found yourself hiding from the world? Do you talk too much? Or too little? Chase dreams others don’t understand? Maybe you don’t dream at all? Perhaps you feel judged by what you believe? Or the way you dress? Or just the way you are?

Each of us was born to make the world a better place. We came with things to learn. Things to do. Things to become. Our individual influence can reach far more than we often consider. And that’s okay. 

At least my head says it’s okay.

I’ll be honest, though. 

Embracing this idea has been a dance for me. For a time I slow danced through my education. You know . . . like the slow moving penguin we did in junior high where it seems you barely move around the floor? And when I started a non-profit I was doing the swing. It involved a lot more people on the floor and was upbeat and fun. It brought forth an enormous smile and a few spins, but I was a little worn out by the end. So I sat the next one out and focused on my family. When the right music and partners came along, I moved across the dance floor, formally learning proper mindset and then starting a publishing company in a traditional waltz. And many other times I’ve danced alone, like no one was watching. 

Let me tell you how this dance showed up at an art session. 

For my daughter’s 18th birthday, three of my girls and a dear family friend went to a private painting class. We were each given an 8x10 canvas to do a watercolor painting. I chose a bright yellow daylily. Our beautiful teacher (who is a professional artist) coached us to draw the flower petals beyond the canvas. It was a little tricky to sketch the larger size while looking at a photo size print.

On the way home from our class, one of my married daughters commented on the enormous canvas paintings displayed in the art studio we had just left. She added that she has a large canvas and would like to try that size, but it had always been a little scary to get started. 

In my mind I imagined painting my daylily on a larger canvas. I felt pretty confident I could paint the next size up, but as soon as I considered doing it any bigger, my heart started racing. 

Who gets nervous over the size of a canvas? 

Well. Apparently I did. 

After a few days of pondering this, I realized something about myself. 

This canvas phobia was simply a symptom of a larger problem.

I have drawn invisible lines around my life. Boundaries that keep me in a space where I know I can succeed. Within the walls of comfort and safety.

In other words . . . I chose to play small. 

Now let’s circle back to where we began. With my lipstick story. I first recognized the problem. I then had to remedy it. And finally, I made a new choice. 

So here’s my new choice.

I refuse to design my life within the boundaries of notebook-sized- canvas.

There are more ways for me to show up. More ways to move outside of the lines. More of me to share. 

I have contacted my art teacher, and my next project will be on a 30x30 canvas. 

I choose to show up. 

How about you?

If you’re ready to show up and fulfill your purpose, I’d love to help.

Everyday Miracles: Always Choose Gratitude

“Guess what!? For my work’s Christmas party this year, every family gets tickets to see the advance showing of The Last Jedi.”

My husband’s exciting news was received with huge grins and shouts of joy. Seriously . . . we were delighted. Star Wars is a family favorite, and it seemed like a great way to take a breather during the hurry of the holidays.

The movie was worth the treacherous roads we traveled to get there, and we returned home safely and with enthusiasm.

The announcement the next morning, however, curbed our holiday cheer and was completely unexpected. Over 60% of my husband’s company was being laid off. It was only ten days before Christmas, and most of the families there were let go . . . including ours. 

I think we laughed. For real. What else could we do? 

In the Bible I read, “in every thing give thanks,” (1 Thessalonians 5:18) so we tried to have a good attitude. To focus on the things we were grateful for . . . like the small severance check, the Christmas gifts that had already been purchased, a roof over our heads, and enough propane to get us through the winter. 

We spent the next ten months reporting to the unemployment office, sending out a multitude of resumes, procuring a few temporary contractual jobs, and praying for something more permanent. And God took care of us. 

Miracles are abundant in hindsight. 

Even in our efforts to feel gratitude, which, thankfully, are improving, we never could have imagined the incredible blessings that would be ours because of this challenge. 

As we approached the anniversary of the movie’s debut, a job opening came available locally. We were cautious because there would be a reduction in salary. My husband was initially leaning against it, but he accepted the position, and I watched with wonder as he chose to be thankful. He focused on all the good things he knew about the job, and he started the new situation with positive energy. 

And then came the miracles . . .

The new job has provided one blessing after another:

• Interesting work responsibilities that he has really enjoyed

• Unbelievable medical insurance

• A medical account to offset our deductible

• Comprehensive dental and orthodontic coverage

• Vision Care

• Fiber optic internet and telephone services

• Life insurance

• Great 401K

• Health incentives

• An annual bonus

• Family-owned business

• Option to work from home

• Wonderful co-workers

It seems to me that there is truth in the quote (written by . . . who actually knows?): 

“Gratitude is a magnet for miracles.”

Every one of us faces challenges on a daily basis. Some are more difficult than others. But I am convinced that there is a reason we are told to give thanks in “everything.” Not only are we more pleasant to be around, but there is always something we can be grateful for no matter our circumstances. And then come the miracles. It’s that simple. 

What are you grateful for? 

If you want support to experience the incredible miracles that come from gratitude, I can help.

Call to Arms: Not Every One is for You

Picture this. 

An insurrection. A government crumbling from within. An inspired military general marching to gather support. And surprisingly, thousands join his ranks. 

Why? Because he has answered a call to arms. He is an audacious leader. A friend of freedom. A lover of truth. A man of God.

When good people today hear a call to arms (on many fronts), there is a stirring in our hearts. Truth moves us to action.

And that’s good. Right? 

Yes. But can we possibly answer every call? Should we? What about unique personalities? Individual talents? Different interests? 

After giving a keynote address at a non-profit organization’s annual convention, I sat at a table with a handful of the group’s leaders and members. I listened with great interest to one of the women who had been recognized for her years of dedicated service in foster care. She shared her amazing story with us: that a tremendous need had been found, her heart hurt for the innocent, and she boldly answered the call. 

What followed, though, was awkward. With her enthusiasm for the army of foster parents she marched with, her expectation for the rest of us to join the ranks felt more like an accusation than a call to arms.

I have thought of this many times over the years. I fully acknowledge that the need for good foster parents is profound. Each worthy individual who is moved to action in behalf of these children has earned my sincere respect and admiration. But I also know, with confidence, that God has not called me, personally, to this cause. 

This noble woman was zealous about her call. As she should be. This is what made her a good soldier. But not every call is the same. I, personally, am passionate about enlisting others to share the messages of truth in their hearts. I see a real need for more life coaches, speakers and writers. But that doesn’t mean that it is necessarily your call as well.

Let’s go back to our original scenario. It actually came directly from my scripture study. The general was a beloved leader who had an incredible influence on the nation he swore to protect. But verses later there were a number of other men named and described as “just as serviceable unto the people.” But they were not soldiers . . . they were teachers, preachers, and messengers of truth. 

Isn’t that fascinating? 

Here are a few things that struck me:

1. We all have different calls.

2. Each call is a service to the people.

3. There’s no need for comparison; the world needs what each call provides.

We live in a world that cries out for all the gifts, talents, and passion of every person. I admire and celebrate those who feel called to the medical field to heal the sick; those in the building industry who provide shelter; the farmers who feed the hungry; gifted teachers who educate the ignorant; counselors who liberate the captive; our police forces who protect the innocent; artists who create beauty in homes, fashion, buildings, and more; and those who feel called to administrate to organize these many worthy pursuits.

Each cause matters. However, our individual calls to arms are not all the same. We will each hear and sound many of them over the course of a lifetime. But we cannot answer them all. We were never meant to.

So which of all the ranks should we join? How do we know?

First of all, you may not know right away. And that’s okay. 

Some people attribute Buddha for saying this: “Your purpose in life is to find your purpose and give your whole heart and soul to it.”

It’s important to realize that this is a quest of a lifetime. During different seasons in our lives we’ll answer many calls. When we look back on them, we can identify a common thread running through each one that will give us some hints.

What call to arms sounds in your soul? When we are on the lookout for it and begin to suspect that we’ve found it, our personal clarion call will resonate so deeply inside of us that we may recognize its beginnings clear back in our childhood. Familiarity will adorn it because it has been our companion through every glimpse and clue along the way.

When you finally identify that missing piece in your life, you will have the sacred opportunity to enlist in that army, clothed with natural talents, divine understanding, and passion that, perhaps, you’ve never worn before. 

There is something inside of each of us . . . something that calls us to make a difference in the world. It comes from deep within, because it’s a reflection of who we really are. It could be visiting a lonely neighbor. Participating in a local food drive, or making beautiful note cards and sending them to brighten someone’s day. There are as many calls as there are people.

Big or small, artistic or practical, educational or constructing, nurturing or administrative . . . your call is your purpose. It’s unique to you. And I promise you . . . it matters.

For some powerful support in fulfilling your call, let’s see what we can do together.

When You Finally Do it Right

Practice makes perfect. 

Really? I wonder who the first person was that said that? Can’t you picture a crabby old piano teacher from a hundred years ago looking for a claim to fame? 

I’ve played the piano for years, and no matter how many times I practice, stage fright seems to play a pretty big part of the end result. Just sayin’. 

Maybe there is some misunderstanding in the quote. I don’t know. But I do know that sometimes our practice, or consistent choices to try again, might take awhile before we see a positive effect. And that’s okay if our outcome is successful at some point. Right?

Here’s something to consider. Let’s say we’re cooking something. Maybe apple chips. Apples dry at a low, sustained temperature of about 150 degrees. We don’t expect them to be done after only ten minutes in the oven. Constant and even exposure to the heat reduces the moisture, and at long last our apples become apple chips. It may require a lengthy five to eight hours, but staying in the oven long enough is what satisfies the recipe.

This applies to our efforts to do better as well. We continue practicing with the hope that we’ll be better. The concern is that we don’t want to wait for tomorrow. We feel we are less than if we can’t do it correctly today.

I don’t know what your experience has been as a parent, a sibling, a roommate or a friend, but I have certainly fallen short of the Mother or Wife or Friend of the Year Award. 

Unfortunately, I think it’s easy to obsess over all our imperfections and decide we are horrible. Horrible friends. Horrible mothers. Horrible to our own parents. Just horrible people.

But there is hope. Honest. It’s taken me almost three decades to discover this, but practice does make a difference. 

Let me share a happy ending. Or at least a happy step along the way.

While my son-in-law was recently traveling, I won the grandma prize by having the opportunity to have my daughter and her children here for a full week. I did have to share them with my youngest two living at home, but still, I felt very spoiled. And . . . I had plenty of baby snuggles in between feedings. 

In the middle of the week, though, things got pretty crazy. My two youngest children had school and were unavailable to play with the older grandkids. Deadlines were looming for me, and my focus was elsewhere. My daughter was lacking sleep from mid-night feedings, and neither of us were emotionally present for these precious little ones. 

For no apparent or logical reason, a couple of my grandchildren moved into center stage with a loud, emotional, and unexpected meltdown. My daughter’s and my immediate efforts to stop it before the children became puddles on the floor were completely ineffective. The tasks in front of us were a priority, and the meltdowns were an unwelcome interruption. 

In that moment a thought came. 

“Stephanie. Set down the fire you’re trying to put out. It will wait. Just hold them.”

Trying to muster enough faith to set aside my project, I gathered up two of the Littles on my lap. 

Don’t laugh, but I honestly thought, “Now what?” 

As I awaited inspiration, we just quietly cuddled. 

After a few moments of just loving them, an idea came. 

Read to them. 

They’re pretty young for a chapter book, but I pulled out Farmer Boy, and within the first two pages I was holding two very different children. They were interacting and asking questions and even . . . smiling. Peace had returned. 

After two engaging chapters, they were ready and willing to eat lunch and take their naps. 

This experience has caused me to reflect. Sadly, over the years, there were countless tasks that I allowed to trump full engagement with my children. I did my best, though my best wasn’t perfect. Far from it.

I then I asked myself, “How would a perfect parent nurture? The perfect Parent?

When I pray . . . God drops everything for me. It doesn’t matter what His deadlines are — He puts it all down. In spite of all the things He does to keep the world in orbit, He puts me first. This speaks volumes to me of His love.

I want to be like Him. And it may have taken almost thirty years, but this time I finally did it right. 

We do not have to do it perfectly today. It is a process. And we get points for trying. Every day, no matter what we are trying to do perfectly, practice takes us another step toward doing it right. Each and every effort we make shapes us and prepares us to do better the next time. 

What things do you want to do better? 

You can do it. Don’t you quit. Keep practicing. Again and again. With God by our side, we will see progress, and we might just do it right. Eventually. 

Would you like some help in your practice of doing it better? I’d love to help you set your goals.