Invitation to Your Life

Today I had the privilege of speaking to a group of more than 50 men who have worked hard to complete a substance abuse treatment program inside the local jail, 14 of whom were my direct clients. Many would wash their hands of the chemically-dependent, writing them off as the lowest of society. However, they are sons, brothers, and fathers, and I’m honored to hear their stories and help them see there is hope for a different future. This is what I said to them:

“I am currently reading a book called Love Does by Bob Goff. He writes short anecdotal stories that he relates to the action of love rather than love as a feeling.

One story was particularly interesting to me as I read it and thought of you all and the work you’ve been doing to change. He calls the chapter, There’s More Room, and says, “I used to think I needed an invitation to get into most places, but now I know I’m already invited.”

The shortened version goes like this:

He explains that he has been to the White House to visit on numerous occasions, especially around Easter because of the “swanky” Easter egg hunt happening on the White House lawn, but has never been invited to it. His family would show up and hide eggs along the fence that separates those on the “inside” from the rest of us. They’d dress up and pretend to be part of the “distinguished gathering.” He was always tempted to roll an egg under the fence to see if guys in suits might tackle him and talk into their sleeves. They would use a small area to hide eggs, so they were easy to spot, but his kids were young and probably just thought they were experts at finding eggs. He wanted them to know they were included in important things, that they belonged, that they were invited.

There are lots of events he never got invited to – the Oscars, Paul McCartney’s birthday party, or a space shuttle launch. If he did get one, even to the White House Easter egg hunt, he would definitely go. There is nothing like feeling included. He says there is only one invitation it would kill him to refuse, yet is tempted to turn down regularly. All of us get the invitation every morning to wake up and actually live a life of complete engagement, of whimsy, a life where love does. The invitation doesn’t come in an envelope. It’s ushered in by the sunrise, the sound of a bird, or the smell of coffee. It’s the invitation to actually live, to fully participate in this amazing life every day. Nobody turns down an invitation to the White House, but plenty of you have been turning down the invitation to truly live.

Turning down this invitation looks different to all of us. It could be using a chemical substance or any other number of addictive actions to numb some painful experience or memory. Someone called us a name or put a label on us, and we believe we aren’t worthy of the invitation. It could be distracting ourselves from seeing what isn’t normal because we have not been prepared to deal with it appropriately. It can also look like refusing to forgive or not being grateful for what we have or being chained to fear or envy. It could be fear of reconnecting with a friend because it’s been too long and we are ashamed to have allowed so much time to come between us. It could be that our friends have been participating for years and we’re ashamed to show up late.

We receive an invitation to live each day and sometimes we forget to show up because we’re just tired or have convinced ourselves that we weren’t invited. But we are invited. Every day. Over and over again. When you don’t show up, others will. And yet there is still room for you.

Two things happen when we accept the invitation to participate in life.

  1. Obstacles and hurdles that seem insurmountable aren’t. Things we believe disqualify us don’t.
  2. It’s contagious. Others watch and see that life is amazing, and start believing the invitation is open to them as well. There IS room for them, too.

So, you’ve spent about 18 weeks here, clearing your mind and your body of chemicals that are capable of damaging your body. Understanding that the choices you made are not who you are. Opening your eyes to the opportunities that are yours. This place is not a place to live your life. But this is a place to start again. This is your invitation to truly live a life of engagement. To fully participate in the work of showing up. Time to show up for the real party called life. Welcome to your amazing life.”

In reality, these words were not only for the graduates. Much of the content was also directed at me, as a reminder that I need not wait around for the perfect storm to put things in motion. I must get moving, taking each small step after another to create the life I want.

Goff, B. (2012). Love does: Discover a secretly incredible life in an ordinary world. Nashville: Thomas Nelson.

3 Reasons Why I Will Always Cheer for University of Kentucky Basketball: Not the reasons you might think.

I’m sure I’ll hear from some haters on this topic, but just bear with me before you get your drawers in a wad. This is not just about scores and records. Not about championships or losses. This is about loyalty, pure and simple. Hear me out before you try to argue some point from an article you’ve read or anything else, for that matter. Three reasons. Here they are:

1. Kentucky basketball is pretty much the only sport there is in the Eastern Kentucky mountains. As a kid, the nearest professional team of any sort was Cincinnati Reds baseball, and our ears were tuned to the radio for those games in the summer. Although I’ve been away for 27 years, UK basketball is still in my blood. I grew up in those mountains, in an environment where television wasn’t an option. I can remember working feverishly to get school work done in our two-room elementary school where we attended on Saturday rather than Monday, so that we could listen to Cawood Ledford “Voice of the Wildcats,” call the games. Even if the guidelines had allowed for it, the technical and logistical option of watching any TV was fuzzy, at best. Literally. When I finally had the option of TV as an adult, the ribbon wire that ran nearly a mile up the mountain to an antenna shorted out every time it stormed. We eventually made the then-exorbitant purchase of the 10-foot satellite dish to watch the games and invite others to watch with us. Those are some good memories, with my dad getting caught up in the excitement, and passing along that loyal excitement to me. Cawood Ledford was from a county near where Dad and his brothers grew up, and he talked about him like he knew him personally. There is something about watching games now that makes me feel close to Dad.

2. Somehow cheering on the Kentucky Wildcats makes me feel a loyalty to the mountain people. Life is hard in those mountains and survival is a result of loyalty and courage. Coal-mining is hard work and it can damage health in many ways, but it’s been an industry that has sustained the area for a significant period of time. I have nothing but respect for those who have taken care of their families this way, no matter the risk.

Furthermore, if you’re a stranger visiting the area, and you mistakenly drive up the holler, pulling up to someone’s house, you might be met with a rifle-toting homeowner. However, if you have the opportunity to get acquainted and step inside, the refrigerator will be emptied onto the table, day or night, to make sure you never have a pang of hunger while in their company. If you eat what is provided, you have most likely made a friend for life. And I do mean life.

So when the Wildcats win, those loyal, hardworking, highly-hospitable people of the mountains win. Even if it is just to get noticed in a world where so many run to the city and miss the calm, laidback, stunning beauty of a frequently-underrated part of our country. Did I say beautiful? There is nothing like casually driving the winding mountain roads, enjoying the green foliage in the spring and summer, or the rainbow of colors in the fall. It’s a truly magical place to get in a relaxing vacation.

3. Because of UK Medical Center, I know the miracle of motherhood. I suppose there are plenty of other places that could have assisted in making that happen, but they didn’t. In 1987, after multiple fertility drug trials, tests, and diagnostic surgeries, I had major surgery at UKMC to repair blocked fallopian tubes. Just over twelve months later, the most beautiful baby girl was in my arms and my life has not been the same since. And if I could turn back the clock, I would go through it all again.

So there you have it. You can tell me about the money spent on the program. You can question my loyalty to a school I have never attended. (Maybe I should take an online class just to say I did.) I don’t care. I love to see them win. For the Commonwealth. For the caring, loyal, hospitable people who deserve some nationally-noticed bragging rights. For some great childhood memories. For the gift of motherhood. And win or lose, I pray they represent Kentucky with grace.

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