Time With Tandy

Inspirational author and speaker

Time With Tandy

Inspirational author and speaker

Category: inspirational

  • Light Bulb Moments

    The light over my dining table started acting strangely. When I turned it on there was only a very dim light. If I left it on for a minute or so, the light would come up to full strength. Puzzling, but something I could live with.

    Out of curiosity, I started to time how long took to fully light up. It grew longer each day and once it exceeded 2.5 minutes I decided it was time to do some serious investigating into this matter.

    The electrician I spoke with asked if I had LED bulbs. It seems that as they age their capacitor can degrade, taking them longer to warm up to full strength. This could explain the gradual illumination I was dealing with.

    It all makes sense to me know. I’m similar to LED bulbs. I used to be a morning person. Now, I appreciate a gradual start to my day, often not reaching my full potential until closer to noon. Maybe I’m conserving energy or maybe it’s an aging thing. My capacitor, or capacity to light up quickly isn’t what it used to be. Sometimes I flicker like the soft light of a candle and other times I sparkle like Christmas lights. 

    Either way, I’m enjoying the thought that I have similar characteristics to these long life bulbs. I not only find this encouraging, but quite illuminating!

  • Breaking Up is Hard to Do

    I have a confession to make. I’ve been getting too involved in a relationship that is not good for me. Today I decided it had to end so wrote this “Dear John” letter.


    Dear Writer’s Block:

    It’s not you, it’s me. Our relationship has had its ups and downs and I take responsibility for most of our issues.

    You have been faithful and accepted my indecision with patience. Your lessons of procrastination and excuses were what I needed in a difficult time of my life.

    Lately, I’ve been doing a lot of soul searching and realized that I am unable to commit to a long term relationship with you. There are thoughts, ideas and inspiration I need to share with the world. Because of this, I believe it is time for us to go our separate ways. It’s not easy to say goodbye, but I need to make a clean break and not see you again.

    I know there is someone out there who will be better able to embrace all you have to offer. I also know with all my heart, that someone is not me.

    Tandy

  • Hidden From View

    “You’re so brave,” they say. “I don’t know how you do it.”

    Actually, I’m not as strong or brave as people think. You may see the highlights of my days but very few know of the times I’ve become overwhelmed with fear, loneliness and grief. Those are not on public display.

    I feel and acknowledge the emotions but don’t dwell on them. How do I do this? By faith and the power of prayer.

    On a recent trip I alternated between glimmers of joy at new experiences and a longing for the comfort and familiarity of home.

    I was in Peru, in an area called The Sacred Valley when I awoke early in the morning, filled with uncertainty about the days ahead. From my window I could see a nearby mountain. In large letters on the mountainside was the word GOD. Most of the mountain was clearly visible but the top was covered with clouds.

    In awe, I stood with tears of gratitude as the Lord spoke to me through this visual. He conveyed that even though I may not be able to see the entire route he’s taking me on, he is with me as I journey. There are still some mountaintop experiences ahead for me. I take comfort in knowing I can trust him to guide my steps.

  • Breaching the Dam

    “Have you seen how fast that beaver dam is growing?”, he said.

    I stopped walking along the path by the creek to look in the direction the man had pointed out.

    When I said I hadn’t noticed the dam before, he told me it had only been there for two weeks.

    “Every day it’s bigger,” he said.

    Water flowing downstream was starting to back up. I wondered how long it would be before it either diverted to and flooded another low lying area, or breached the dam. It couldn’t keep backing up without some sort of release.

    This thought stayed with me as I continued my walk. The analogy to my grief journey was not lost on me.

    People ask me how I’m doing and I paste on a smile and say, “fine.” I hold back my tears.

    I’m driving and something on the radio triggers a memory. I fight back my tears as they aren’t compatible with driving safely.

    I’m talking with a family member and my eyes well up. I do my best not to cry. They are dealing with their own grief and don’t need mine compounding it.

    All the while, my grief is suppressed. I tell myself that tears are a sign of weakness, something I need to apologize for. They make others feel uncomfortable, so I don’t release them. Even the overflows I can’t stop are carefully controlled.

    The pressure builds. The tears will not be denied. Alone in my room, I feel the dam being breached. My carefully structured composure collapses, bringing a flood of waterworks. I give in and let it run its course.

    Afterwards, I realize how much better I feel. The pressure that had been building in me has been released. I discover that tears are not a sign of weakness. They are a language of their own, expressing feelings I have no words for. They are essential to my healing.

  • Changing Conditions


    The weather was sunny and hot when I got into my car to return home. After driving for 6 hours, I had stopped to visit a friend as I passed through her town. We had enjoyed each other’s company for longer than expected and now I wanted to make it home before dark.

    An hour into my drive an alert came over my phone. Unable to stop and check, I wondered what it was for. The answer came quickly as the alert was broadcast on the radio. There was an extreme weather warning and people were advised to take cover. I hadn’t paid attention to the names of all the towns on my route and wondered if I was going anywhere near them.

    After several more alerts, I noticed a wall of black up ahead and knew I was heading directly into the storm. There were no nearby exits from the highway. Nowhere for me to stop and seek refuge. I didn’t know what else to do, so prayed for safety and continued to drive.

    It didn’t take long for those clouds to release a deluge upon me. Wind rocked my vehicle. Speed was reduced and concentration increased.

    Wipers on full speed had trouble keeping the windshield clear. I joined a long line of slow moving traffic, all with hazards lights flashing due to low visibility. My focus changed from reaching my destination at a certain time, to reaching it safely. All any of us on the road at this time could do was stay alert and keep going. Although initially shaken, I remained strangely calm.

    As I approached the off ramp for a town mentioned in the alert, the clouds started to break up. The few patches of blue sky ahead were a most welcome sight. I pulled off and parked in front of a small restaurant. As I emerged from my vehicle I saw the most vivid double rainbow I’d ever witnessed, set against a backdrop of blue-black clouds. I thanked God for the visible sign of his protection over me.

    After a quick meal, to ensure the storm had passed, I came out to see the sun shining. Downed power lines and debris on the road attested to the damage the storm had caused. I was grateful to have remained safe. I navigated a detour around the worst of the damage and then was back on the highway. Before long the road was clear and dry. The last hour of my trip was completed with the sun streaming down on me.

    That night I drifted off to sleep with thoughts of the drive in my mind. I realized conditions in life can and have changed as quickly as they did on this trip.

    Sometimes I have ignored the warning signs and others the situation takes me completely by surprise. Occasionally, such as in this drive, it was a bit of both.

    I take comfort in knowing that as conditions change, God is with me and will guide me through whatever I encounter. He always has and he always will.

  • The Guitar

    #inspiration, suffering, neglect, restoration,

    Two guitars rested in their stands on the platform. Practice was over and they had a short break to rest before the main event.

    One had been here many times before and the other was on this platform for the first time.

    “You have a beautiful, rich tone,” the seasoned guitar said.

    “Thank you. It’s been a long journey to get to where I am today. Maybe that’s why I’m feeling nervous.”

    “Tell me about it.”

    “My first owner was a young teenager. I was a gift for his fourteenth birthday. We spent countless hours together. What started out as discordant sounds improved over time until we became accomplished at making music. We were a team and worked well together. Life was good for several years.

    Then one day my boy brought home an electric guitar. I was showing signs of wear and was no competition for this shiny new instrument. It captured his time and attention and I was left sitting untouched in the corner of his room.”

    The neglect started to take its toll on me. The few cracks in my finish became larger. My neck warped and my strings started to rust. It wasn’t a pretty picture. I kept hoping he’d notice and give me some much needed TLC. It didn’t happen and my deterioration continued.

    Eventually, I was dropped off at a thrift store. I thought my useful life had come to an end. Children came by and roughly pulled at my strings or thumped on my back. I’d given up when a kind man gently picked me up and took me home.

    I heard I’m say he was going to restore me. What I didn’t know was how much it would hurt as he sanded, glued and clamped and refinished. Although his voice was gentle and filled with love as he spoke to me, the steps he took me through were often painful. Many times I wanted him to stop. I heard him say that the good work he’d started in me would be carried on to completion, and I learned to trust.

    When the process was finished and we started making music together, I knew everything I’d gone through was worth it. I’d become a new creation and wanted nothing more than to allow him to continue to help me fulfill my purpose.”

    The lights dimmed and the crowd hushed. The moment the guitar had been waiting for was near. The master picked him up and they joined with the other instruments on the church platform as they led the congregation in Amazing Grace.

  • Solo

    heart tree, show me the way

    I don’t often write poetry but today was the exception! I’m in Camore on a personal retreat. Not sure what I expect to find but this was a good start

    mountain path, peaceful

    Solo but not Alone

    Waking up solo in a kingsize bed
    I’ve come to the mountains alone
    to the place we once loved.

    Up the hill I walk to find the forest path
    that will lead me to the lake we discovered
    several years ago.

    Along the way I see a large red heart
    painted on a tree as if to show me
    the way.

    Around a slight bend and
    I catch sight of our special lake
    my spirit calms
    even as unbidden tears
    blur my vision.

    I was right to come
    It is well with my soul

    Quarry Lake, soul soothing

  • My Compass

    volunteer, outdoors, skills
    photo from Unsplash

    Many years ago I was a Brownie Leader. I loved working with the girls and was happy to help teach various skills in the weekly meetings. My favourite part was teaching songs, singing games and folk dances. I spent hours at home learning these, so I could pass them along to the girls.

    When one of the more outdoorsy leaders organized a hike to introduce wilderness skills to the girls, I was out of my comfort zone. I had zero experience in this area but knew I could rely on her confidence and expertise.

    The day of the hike, each girl and leader had a compass. My job was to bring up the rear of the group to ensure there were no stragglers. It was a relief to know I only had to follow the others. At the top of the trail, my co-leader asked everyone to look at their compass and point to the north. I pulled mine out and confidently pointed, only to find I was opposite to everyone else. My compass had reverse polarity and I didn’t know it.

    If I had been relying on my compass as a guide, not only would I have become lost, but so would everyone who trusted me to lead the way.

    When I’m part of a group it’s too easy to follow blindly instead of paying proper attention. This is not a good thing. As I learned with the compass, I also need to be aware of my surroundings and direction.

    Sometimes in life my internal compass is off. Even a slight deviation can magnify in time to become a huge change in direction. If I’m not paying attention I end up somewhere I didn’t want to be.

    Lately, I seem to have been going in circles. Even though I’m moving, I find myself back in the same spot and have to start all over. It’s time to recalibrate my internal compass, find true north and confidently set off on my journey.

  • Catlike Grief

    I’ve come to the conclusion that grief is like a cat. They are both somewhat unpredictable.

    Sometimes it turns its head and ignores me. We peacefully co-exist but there is little interaction.I can almost forget it is in the room with me.

    Other times it arches its back and hisses at me. I jump back, wondering what happened to set it off. Still worse is when the claws come out and blood is drawn. This usually happens at times I least expect it. I need to hide away afterwards and tend to my wounds.

    Then there are days like yesterday. I looked around my living room and saw so many reminders of the life and love I’d shared with my husband. My metaphorical grief cat curled up on my lap. Whether it was there to comfort or to be comforted, I don’t know. Either way, we had some special moments as I stroked its soft fur and felt its heartbeat. We bonded in a new way.

    I’d never thought of grief in these terms before. Last night I dreamt about cats and wondered why. This morning I thought about it and understood.

  • Writing Challenge

    Recently I was given a challenge to write a 99 word story incorporating 6 words that were randomly chosen for me. This process was both fun and challenging. Below is the story. The 6 necessary words are in italics.

    I wanted to cry. The deadline I was up against left no room for slowing down, or even taking a deep breath. The pressure was immense. I’d never put myself through anything like this before.

    The second round took longer than expected but I completed it and was onto the third. I hoped I could get it finished. Moments later the signal went indicating time was up. No, not already?

    I was sweating and felt sick to my stomach as I awaited the results. Why had I thought it was a good idea to enter a pizza eating contest?