Are you a PollyAnna?

Over the summer, my sweet Olivia and I read Pollyanna. I have always heard the saying, "She is such a Pollyanna" but never really knew what it meant. After reading this story, I learned what it meant and decided that it wasn't such a bad thing. Pollyanna was a little girl who didn't have much. Her mother died, her father was a missionary who also died, and she was left to go live with her spinster Aunt who wasn't a very nice lady. In spite of all of this, Pollyanna was happy and cheerful all of the time. She gained this sunny disposition by playing, "The Game." The game that her father taught her was simple...find something positive in every situation.

They started playing the game when Pollyanna was very small. Missionaries received barrels of donations. This is how the got clothing, toys, household goods that had been donated to charity. They never knew what would be in the barrel. They simply got what they got. (Olivia's pre-school teacher taught her this little rhyme..."You get what you get and you don't pitch a fit.") Pollyanna hoped that in the next barrel would be a baby doll. Instead of the baby doll there were crutches. So the game began...the positive thing about receiving crutches instead of a baby doll is that at least you don't need the crutches. Pollyanna found that she could be "glad" that her leg wasn't broken.

Now that you have the idea, Olivia and I began to play the game. Such a simple concept with such a profound effect. Pollyanna transformed an entire community by sharing The Game with everyone she met. What would happen in our own community, state, country or world if we began looking at things through the eyes of The Game?

While reading the book, I was in Wal-Mart one day. In an anxious rush I reached over a lady so that I could get my item and be on my way. I didn't have time to wait on her. As I reached, I knocked another item off of the shelf onto the ladies head. I immediately apologized profusely. I was so embarrassed to have been in such a hurry. The lady came up with a smile and said, "Don't worry about it, at least it wasn't a 5lb bag of sugar." She then laughed. I thought instantly...She is playing The Game!

In the Tillman House we are trying to play The Game as much as possible, especially in these hard economic times. Won't you join us? Imagine a world where we all looked for something to be GLAD about.

Psalm 118:24 "This is the day the Lord has made; let us rejoice and be glad in it."

Mercy...or as we say it in the South...MERSAY!

(OK...so here it is after about 9 months, I'm back. No promises just a day by day adventure. We'll see how it goes.)

All good southern women know this term. We use it all of the time. "Mercy, it sure is hot!" "Mercy, child. Give me a minute." "Mercy, is there anything else I can do for you?" If I didn't know better I would think that Mercy was a person that resides in every Southern home. She must because her name is called so frequently.

Now I'm not so sure that everyone uses this word in this context or even all that frequently, but I have found myself using it a lot. A particular day recently I used the word quite a few times. So many times in fact, it made me stop and think about the word itself. What it means and how or why it is used.

Children know the game "Mercy." Remember when you were a child. You and a friend would interlock your fingers and try to bend each other's hands back until one of you yelled, "Mercy." At which time you would let go and the victor was the one who caused pain so great that the other had called out for mercy.

According to Merriam-Webster's dictionary site, there are three definitions. The third somewhat goes along with the game of "Mercy." It is defined as compassionate treatment of those in distress. If you have ever been on the receiving end of have your fingers bent back and twisted around, I think that you would agree that having your "friend" or sibling let go would be considered compassionate treatment. Not so much compassion in the beginning of the game, but certainly by the end...therefore the name, "Mercy."

The first definition is "compassion or forbearance shown especially to an offender or to one subject to one's power, also lenient or compassionate treatment." Remember this definition because it will be relevant to the story that follows. The second definition is " a blessing that is an act of divine favor or compassion...a fortunate circumstance. Synonyms for mercy are charity, clemency, grace, and leniency.

I like all of those words, especially when I am on the receiving end. It is often times more difficult to be on the giving end of mercy...much like grace. Aren't we glad that God doesn't feel that way?

David knew that God is a merciful God. In Psalm 57:1 he cries out,
"Have mercy on me, O God, have mercy on me,
for in you my soul takes refuge.
I will take refuge in the shadow of your wings
until the disaster has passed."

Mercy certainly comes from the Lord. Maybe when I begin my sentences with, "Mercy..." I'm crying out in an subconscious way for His mercy. Maybe mercy does refer to someone...the someone who can and does give it abundantly. Maybe calling out for "Mercy" is like calling out Abba, Papa, Lord.

On with the story that provoked all of this pondering on the word "Mercy."
Todd had a particularly stressful day at work ahead of him. I asked if I could pray for him. Of course he said, "yes." Who turns down prayer? I prayed for an upcoming audit he had and I prayed for God's grace and MERCY to be upon him in this situation. Thinking back to the definitions of mercy, I certainly would want compassion, an act of divine favor, or lenience from the creator of the Universe. He went to work and I went about my day.

Later in the day, I was outside mowing grass at high noon. I know that high noon is not the time to mow grass in South Georgia in July, but you take the time when you can get it. While pushing with all of my might I stated loudly, "MERCY!" As the words cleared my lips, the coolest breeze blew across my face. Immediately, I said, "Thank you, Jesus!" There was no other explanation for a breeze so cool on such a hot Summer day than that of Mercy given by our Savior..."compassionate treatment for those is distress."

The epilogue to Todd's story is that he too received, "Mercy." The audit was complete and things had not turned out in his favor. He questioned the auditor in disbelief. She stopped, took a moment to reevaluate and then discovered her error. With the stroke of a button, the numbers came in in his favor. So close to the cutoff that no other explanation can be accepted except for Mercy. The answer to the prayer that I had prayed earlier for my sweet husband.

So after a day full of mercy, I am much more aware of asking for it and much more thankful when I receive it.

Motivation of the Heart found at Disney

Five days at Disney...what could be better? For some people hemorrhoid surgery would be more enjoyable, however if you are a Tillman this is about as perfect as it gets. The only thing better than 5 days at Disney would be at least 7, maybe 10.

Todd and I love Disney and have raised 3 children who love it as well. As soon as one trip is over, we start planning the next one. We go knowing that there will be people; lots of people from all over the world. We make a game plan and go about it as best we can, but we also know that you must be flexible in a crowded theme park atmosphere. We talk about our game plan so that everyone is involved and has input into what they would like to do or see. We are really very fortunate in this aspect.

All of this being said, I did not plan on having such a God moment at Disney this last time. I don't know why that seemed like such a foreign concept to me. God doesn't live in a box. He is everywhere, even Disney. He has even taught me lessons there before. (Like someone finding Olivia's pin lanyard, turning it in and us getting it back 2 weeks after we got home. If that's not God! But that is a different story entirely.) I guess I just didn't think I needed to learn a lesson. When that is your attitude, watch out!

So, we head off on the first day. We drive down early on Wednesday. Arrive in time to check in our hotel and head off to Animal Kingdom. Jake is terribly excited because it is his first trip to Animal Kingdom. All goes well, but I find myself observing other people. Some look like me and that is comforting, but others do not. I then have to decide what to do with that uncomfortableness. I consider myself an open-minded girl. I just think, " It takes all kinds of people" and I move on. Later we encounter, big kids (age 4) walking around sucking passies. I'm being pushed a little further this time. What am I going to do with this? Really none of my business, but judgement starts creeping in. Why would you let your big kid walk around sucking a passie? Don't you know how bad that is for them? It will mess up their teeth not to mention their speech. So glad that I'm not that kind of parent. I certainly would not let my 4 yr. old do that. I'm so good. :)

The next day is Hollywood studios. Again another great day full of fun and new rides and experiences. Here we also encounter the screaming kids and the angry parents. Screaming kids because they are tired or hungry or have sensory overload. Angry parents because they are tired, hungry, have unmet expectations, etc. Oh No! A little pride creeping up, I'm so glad that my children aren't acting like that. I'm so happy that we didn't come here with unrealistic expectations of what this day would be. We are so good. :)

Third day...Epcot, a new experience for all of us. This really was a wonderful day. Todd got to spend most of the day with us. We enjoyed a fabulous meal at the Corral Reef. We rode Soaring and Test Track together as a family.

Certainly Satan was not going to sneak into this day. "Be self-controlled and alert. Your enemy the the devil prowls around like a roaring lion looking for someone to devour." 1 Peter 5:8 I'm about to get devoured by people on scooters. Whole families riding scooters around the streets of Epcot. Are they too lazy to walk? Are they too large to walk? What is their deal? Why are they getting right in front of me and my "good" family and slowing us down? Why does Disney even allow these crazy things? My self-righteousness just lays me out there to be swallowed whole by that roaring lion prowling behind the people on the scooters.

Thank you Jesus that I know the Shepard's voice and can hear him when he calls. With gentle correction He ask me, "What was the motivation of your heart when you planned this trip and brought your family here?" Of course my motivation was to have a good time, share this experience with my children and husband, and relax. "Do you honestly believe that the motivation of any of these people is much different than yours?" No. "Each of them is my child. I want for them and you the same things that you want for your children."

The next day was Magic Kingdom. After our little chat, I viewed it with very different eyes. I made sure that I had my "God Goggles" on. Things are always more magical through the Father's eyes, even 14 hours in the Magic Kingdom.

I had almost let this post slip from my memory. While listening to Francis Chan's podcast on "Holy Anguish," I was reminded of this lesson. He talked about parenting and how we all have different styles and things that we hold sacred, but all of our motivation is the same. Our hearts long to raise our children loving them the best way we know how.

So for me, the motivation of the heart is certainly something to consider. If the motivation is good, you have to give grace to the process and the outcome.

What defines you?

I've been at CATALYST over this past week. If you ever get a chance to go, I highly recommend it. It is usually the first Wed. - Fri. in October. It is held at the Gwinnett Center and is two full days of speakers and worship. It is actually billed as a Christian Leadership Conference. Truly incredible!

I thought that my blog would focus on what I learned at Catalyst and I would share all of the amazing things that happened there. However, that is not exactly where this blog is headed. I'm sure that all of those amazing things will come out over the course of several post.

The inspiration for this blog actually came from what Todd and I call, "Trashy TV night." Every Sunday night Todd and I watch Desperate Housewives and then I watch Brothers and Sisters. Be careful, don't judge me because of my guilty pleasure. I actually learn about relationships from these programs and gain insight into society.

Enough background...on with the show. Towards the end of Brothers and Sisters, Kitty (Calista Flockhart) tells her husband (Rob Lowe) that he did not allow is heart attack to define him and that she would not allow her diagnosis of cancer to define her. I was truly struck by this statement.

I am sure that this is not some new idea that I've come up with, but for myself I would like to examine this question. "What defines me?" I'm sure that throughout ones life this is an ever evolving answer. You may be some one's child or sibling, some one's friend or significant other, some one's boss or employee, some one's spouse or parent.

Think about it. When introducing ourselves to someone new, we often connect ourselves with someone. I know that in a school setting I am Dane, Olivia or Jake's momma depending on who am talking with. In the community I might be Todd's wife or Young and Penny's daughter-in-law. In Blackshear, I'm Sara and Leon's daughter or Ben and Matthew's sister. I might even be Irene's granddaughter or Cassie or Laurie's niece. Family certainly defines who we are.

Our occupation and accomplishments often defines who we are, as well. Todd could be defined as the broker/owner of Century 21 Winnersville Realty or the Joy Group leader at the House Of Joy. He could be defined as the past president of the Valdosta Board of Realtors or Azalea City Kiwanis Club. Leadership Lowndes or the United Way board position could also be a part of his definition.

How often does our church affiliation define who we are? Especially in the South we are known by the church we attend. Are you a member of Park Avenue, CrossPointe, Solomon's Porch, Morningside, Northside, Crossroads, First Methodist, First Presbyterian, First Baptist, or St. John's.

As the characters from last night's TV shows, you could be defined by an illness or an accident that occurred. You could be the one fighting cancer or the cancer survivor. You could be the heart attack victim or survivor. You could even be defined by a crime that happened to you or that you committed.

All of us have things in our lives that could define us. Some of these things are good and some of them not so good. But the key to it is we have a choice. We can choose what defines us. We can decide what we want to cling to as our identity. Sometimes it doesn't feel like we have a choice, especially when the defining thing happens to us. We are a victim. However, we don't have to be defined by the evil of this world.

Jesus Christ lived and died so that we can have a choice. We can choose our definition in the shadow of the cross. His sacrifice was so that none of us have to be victims or defined by anything more than His grace. It is enough.

At Catalyst I roomed with a girl that helped me refine my definition. Someone asked how we knew one another. I gave a very worldly explanation. She simply said, "We both love Jesus!" What a wonderful way to be defined!

The Process...

Some call it a "journey", "walk", or "relationship." While all of these words accurately describe interaction with God . I'm going to refer to it as "a process." To me a process is an ongoing act that implies a desired outcome. I double checked with Merriam-Webster to make sure that I had not assigned my own definition to the word. (I've been known to do that in the past.) According to Merriam-Webster, "A process is a natural phenomenon marked by gradual changes that lead to a particular result." So in this instance, I'm right.


I choose the word process because of the "gradual changes that lead to a particular result." I look at myself as the one in "process." It certainly is not God. He is the same yesterday, today, and tomorrow. That is probably why I have such a hard time grasping His concepts. I tend to change somewhat frequently and not always for the positive. I also have issue with the "gradual changes." I'm fond of the quick and easy fixes, but I'm also aware that they rarely work long term and usually aren't as good. (Who ever chose a store bought "quick and easy" cake over a straight from scratch Mema's cake. No one in my family!) I have decided that I want to be in "a process" with the "particular result" being Christlike. I have lofty goals I know. I'm also very aware that on this side of Glory I will not achieve my desired outcome. However, I feel that I still must make my feeble attempt. He has done soooo much for me.

It is on days like today, that my "process" seems to travel in the negative direction instead of the positive. All the while I'm very aware that I'm going the wrong way. Kind of like driving into a round-about in Boston and then coming out the same road that you went in on. You temporarily made wonderful progress, but it was short lived. You are very aware that you are going out the same way you came in, but there is nothing you can do about it. For weeks, months, maybe even a year, I've been making great progress toward my desired outcome. Don't get me wrong, I'm no where near Christlike. But I'm a few inches closer than I was when I began. Today.. for a moment, I not only drove back in the opposite direction; I was catapulted back beyond the beginning of "the process."

One situation sent me running aimlessly backwards into fear, hate, hurt, mean and control. It was almost an outer body experience because I could hear myself saying these awful things but my heart was saying, "You don't believe or mean those things." "You know that you are loved." "You know Who is in control." But for a very brief moment, I wanted to feel that I had some control over someone else. I wanted to hurt them as much as their actions would hurt me. I had to cry.


In my tears and my broken heartedness, He reached down and reminded me of all the things I've learned in my process. He is love. He drives out fear. He heals the hurt. He is in control. He also showed me that He is walking the journey through the process in relationship with me. And no matter how gradual the change, the change is in the direction of HIM as long as I keep my focus on HIM.

A good song and a long walk will always help me refocus.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vSXciv06218

I hope that you enjoy.

Friends

I had a call from an old friend yesterday. She called to say that she had been reading my blog and just wanted to catch up. She referenced my post of "Catch and Release." She said she didn't want to be a catch and release kind of friend. I assured her that she wasn't.

In fact, she is one of those friends that you have for a lifetime. One of those friends that you may spend a season of life very close to and then you may have a season when you aren't so close. The season doesn't make your friendship any more or less. In fact I have come to cherish those friendships a great deal, a friend that is your friend over the years. One that you have history with...good and bad. A friend that has been in your life long enough to see a lot of your flaws and loves you anyway.

I am very grateful to have been blessed with a handful of these friends. Friends who have known me as a girl, a teenager, a college student, a young adult, a young married woman, a new mother and now an old mother. No matter what stage of my life they have come into my life, they've gotten to see the good, the bad, and the ugly and most importantly they have remained my friend.

I've also been blessed with other types of friends. Friends that come and go out of my life. Maybe physical distances or circumstances in life cause the friendship not to last so long. They are also important to my life. They have added value to my time on earth and certainly taught me lessons about myself, others and God.

There are also the new friends that I make on a regular basis. Friends that I've just known a few years, months, weeks or even days. These I also consider gifts from God. In my study of John, I am reminded that all things are created by God for God. If we are to believe this, then all people with all of their differences and all relationships work together to bring God glory.

Robin Norwood says, "We need to be able to relinquish our beliefs about what "should" be and become willing to accept and appreciate what simply is." Maybe that should be our take on friendship. There is no real definition of what a friend "should" be. We should accept them and appreciate them for what they are...gifts from God!

You never know who is watching

The God goggles have been popping up everywhere. I attended my first BSF (Bible Study Fellowship) discussion group this past Thursday. While we were discussing, I felt that I was supposed to share with the group about God goggles. I chose not to share. It was our first time together. I had already shared on several questions and didn't want to be a conversation hog. I also didn't want to be tooting my own horn about my blog or my catch phrase "God goggles." So I told that small voice in my head to "shh!" and the discussion moved on.

Well, come to find out God wanted me to share that story in small group. Because when we went to the sanctuary for lecture, the guest speaker talked about God goggles. Had I followed the prompting to share, the twelve girls in my small group could have gotten a glimpse of how God ties things together through people who haven't even met.

There have been other times when I do listen to that small voice and although I may not know the impact my actions have. I've learned that you never know who is watching.

Months ago I began to notice a lady around town. I noticed her because she is different. She appears to be homeless. She wears a heavy coat with a hood no matter what the weather. She used to have a bicycle, but now she has a baby stroller. She seems to always be talking to herself.

I don't know why I took an interest in her, but I did. Whenever I would pass her on the road or see her sitting on a bench, I would say a little prayer for her. God had laid her on my heart. I wasn't sure how or where or why, but I knew in my spirit that our paths were going to cross.

One night after a meeting, a friend and I happened upon the topic of homeless people and "she" came up. My friend had noticed her, too. She had even gone so far as to stop and talk with her. I had not gathered my courage enough to do that. However, God was going to give me the opportunity.

One Sunday after church, my family and I went out to eat as we often do. I knew the time had come. There outside the door of the restaurant sat "her" stroller. I said to myself this is it. I'm about to have an encounter with her. Well, sure enough my entire family had the opportunity to meet her and spend some time talking with her. She was in the restaurant inquiring about the church that my family and I attend. This opened the door for us to invite her to sit down, to talk with her and offer her assistance.

You really need some description in order to get the full picture. It is May in South Georgia, ninety-seven degrees easily. She is dressed in a sweatshirt, pants, heavy coat with a hood and sunglasses on inside. My family and I are dressed in our Sunday best...fancy dresses, heels, pearls, coats, and ties. We are all sitting together talking in the restaurant. Not a sight that you see everyday, certainly not every Sunday in south Georgia.

After awhile, we parted ways with our new friend, "Miss Sherry." We left with the agreement that Todd would meet her back the next morning and take her to get assistance. The next morning comes, Todd goes to pick her up and she is not there. He waits, but still no Sherry.

A week later, I see her sitting on a bench in front of Hollywood Video. I wheel in to go and talk with her, check on her and make sure she is OK. She immediately recognizes me and apologizes for standing my husband up. She can't say exactly why she wasn't there, but she was certainly sorry that she might have inconvenienced him. I could tell that she simply wanted to talk so I sat with her for a while. She shared of many things, but she mainly wanted to talk about Jesus. I stayed as long as I could and then I left.

I got back into my car to my phone going off like crazy. I had several missed calls and texts and the phone was ringing. I picked up to the chastising voice of my friend who says, "What are you doing? My husband said that he saw you sitting on the bench talking to the crazy lady." I told her that her name was "Sherry" and that we were chatting.

I've run into Sherry only one other time since then, but have several opportunities to talk about her with others. Now months later people will bring up the fact that they say me talking with her or they will share a story of how she had an encounter with them. Most people indicate that she makes them feel uncomfortable. They want her to change her clothes or where she sits or how she acts. All Sherry really wants is for someone to sit and listen to her. Why does she make us uncomfortable? Could she be like the blind beggar or the demon possessed man from Jesus time? Is what she's asking for too much to give?

The next time you feel a prompting to do something a little out of the the ordinary or at least out of your comfort zone, listen to that small voice. You never know what catalyst your action could be for a plan that God has and you never know who is watching!