after the dreaded class reunion

After “the dreaded class reunion”

Well, I’ve survived my husband’s class reunion. Actually, I didn’t survive; I relished every moment of it.  I couldn’t be happier we decided to attend. (BTY, be sure to check in later this week for a post called…. “more acting as if” for more about that whole subject and how it worked for me that night.)

What a fun and revealing night.  Fun because I met some old friends of my husband’s, some I had met before knew, some I hadn’t.  Have already made plans to connect with one couple again. The husband was an artist when I knew him and has continued all these years.  We really connected as art is one of my fondest activities.  I dabble in all forms except sculpture. I learned a lot from him and am excited to see his studio and his art. How exciting.

Fun because I watched my husband turn into a social butterfly.  It was great watching him search out former classmates. Can I just say here that the teen-age years were not good for either one of us so it was wonderful seeing him reconnect with the good parts, his friends.

Fun because I got to dance-not as much as I would’ve wanted because after four foot surgeries, I have to be careful how much abuse I subject them to.

Fun because I got to meet some new people. I want to share with you what one particular man said to me.  I learned that he and his wife owned some companies that specialize in anything related to computers.  Having learned this encouraged me to tell him I had just started a blog, that my learning curve is very steep, that each week I ‘ve learned a new skill I’m able to implement. He was a quiet man but apparently he was listening.  I won’t quote him exactly because I didn’t write it down but my husband and I discussed it and think we’ve pretty much remembered it.  His name is Michael.

Here’s what Michael said.“There are people with a lot of knowledge on their shelves (his hands extended far apart at this point) but they don’t do anything with it. Then there are people with very little knowledge on their shelves (hands narrowing to about two or three inches) but they use it all.” (My personal shelves are of the hands close together example when it comes to my blog.)

What he said I’ve heard countless ways. My husband has said it to me in countless ways. It was the visual way he presented it that got my attention. You see, I have hundreds of books.  Books are evident in almost every room in our home.  I love that. It’s the one exception to my normal expectations of having the house look perfect. But I’ll never look at my bulging bookcases the same way again. All my books, all my reading, what have I done with it? (I am trying hard to finish my book.)

I personally believe God speaks to us all the time, generally through people.  For me, it’s often strangers. There are certain statements I hear and toss out almost immediately because while they’re inspiring, I feel I’ve already nailed that concept. There are others I hear and give a little more thought. More impactful ones I implement as needed but eventually I don’t need to remember them anymore.  They’ve become ingrained. Then there are those I hear that I know I will never forget, that I’ll remind myself of often because they’ve hit at the core of who l am and they are right what I need in the present moment. That what Mike’s statement did for me. I will quote him often.

Our family and close friends inspire us all the time but when it comes from a stranger, out of the blue, and hits us where we live, we take special notice. It doesn’t happen very often because those closest to us will always impact us the most. But sometimes I feel that God puts someone like this in my life because I haven’t been listening to those closest to me or God himself for that matter.

How about you? Has someone, especially someone you don’t know, said something to you that has impacted you greatly? Even changed your life? A better question might be, “Have I said something to someone else that has impacted them greatly? Even changed their life?  If I haven’t, why haven’t I? I want to remember this experience so that I, too, can be sure to be an encourager to others.