A Norvell Note

December 26, 2022 – Vol. 26 No. 42

Now What?

We waited and waited for Christmas morning, and finally, it came and went. So now it’s the day after Christmas, we opened the presents, the wrapping paper has been bagged and placed in the trash, and soon the tree will be taken down and stored until next year. Now what? 

The searching, shopping, purchasing, and wrapping paid off once we exchanged gifts and devoured meals. We cleared the table, washed the dishes, and vacuumed the floor. Now what?

Christmas and New Year’s week are a microcosm of life. We start with hopes and dreams of where we want to go, what we want to happen, and how we want to end. Then, we make plans; we work on the projects; we wait and wait; we pray and dream and hope. Eventually, the dreams come true, or they fade. And we ask, now what?

So, now what?

It’s pretty simple. We start over. 

By this time on the day after Christmas, you may already be making plans for next Christmas. What foods worked well, and which ones didn’t? What decorations will you keep, and which ones will you discard? What gift did you not get this year that you hope you get next year? 

When one dream ends, we start over with new goals. When we reach one goal, we start over with another. When one year ends, we start over with new plans or recommit to achieving the goals we didn’t reach last year. 

It’s the day after Christmas and the last week of the year. Now what? Reflect, regroup, and restart. Don’t quit. If it’s been a great year, are there ways to improve? If it’s been a challenging year, what can you do to make next year better? If it has been a horrible year and all you can do is be grateful that it’s over. Then, do that. But don’t quit. 

Not that I have already obtained all this or have already arrived at my goal, but I press on to take hold of that for which Christ Jesus took hold of me. Brothers and sisters, I do not consider myself yet to have taken hold of it. But one thing I do: Forgetting what is behind and straining toward what is ahead, I press on toward the goal to win the prize for which God has called me heavenward in Christ Jesus. (Philippians 3:12-14, NIV)

Whatever goal you have set for today, this week, or next year, keep moving forward. Don’t give up.  

Oh, one last thing. If you need help, it’s okay to ask. 

Tom

A Norvell Note © Copyright 2022 Tom Norvell All Rights Reserved

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A Norvell Note

December 21, 2022 – Vol. 26 No. 41

Information Overload

As I finished this article, I realized that I might be adding to your information overload. If so, please set it aside for a later read, or discard it altogether. 

The stack of mail kept growing and had grown so tall I could no longer ignore it. Opening envelope by envelope, I asked myself why I was getting so much information. In some cases, there were duplicate mailings—so much mail.

I look at the number of already-read emails in my box that should have been deleted or moved and wonder if I’ll ever organize them. The same is true with my phone’s text messages, private messages, voicemails, phone calls, advertisements, and reminders—so many ways to communicate. 

With the television remote in hand, I scan the listings of regular stations and streaming services looking for something to watch. The news correspondents and talk show hosts constantly yell, “Hey, listen to me! You need to hear this.” Do I? So many channels. 

When watching a sporting event, the announcers have statistics on every player and every team that ever wore a uniform, and they share it all—so much information.

With so much information demanding my attention, there are days and nights when I just want to say, “That’s enough!” I’m not anti-devices, anti-social media, or anti-information. On the contrary, I am careful to monitor my viewing and listening habits, but still, there are days and nights when I get overloaded and overwhelmed with so much information. 

When that happens, I must intentionally make a change. I turn down the volume, take a break, and enjoy the quiet. The messages, calls, advertisements, and one-sided conversations are still there, but I can choose to disengage. I have learned that my immediate response is not always necessary. And the world is not likely to stop spinning if I turn off the news, mute the game’s announcers, wait to hear a podcast, or ignore a text or email for a few minutes.

I know this all sounds simple enough as I type it, but I understand it’s difficult for some. It is difficult for parents with babies, toddlers, and teenagers. It’s not easy for parents with sick children, parents who do not know where their child is, or couples trying to have children but cannot. Those situations take information overload to a whole new level. 

To make matters worse, the possibility of information overload increases during this season of supposedly silent nights where all is calm, and all is quiet. But taking time to relax and reduce the noise is up to us. My wish for this is that you do whatever you are comfortable with to reduce the noise and slow down the flow of information during the Christmas and New Year’s holiday season, and in the coming year.

Tom

A Norvell Note © Copyright 2022 Tom Norvell All Rights Reserved

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A Norvell Note

December 12, 2022 – Vol. 26 No. 40

NOTE: I originally wrote this, as you can see, on December 5, 2016. I’m reposting it (with a few edits) now because the memories of December 8, 1964, seem to crowd out all other thoughts and squelch most of my creative thinking for a few days. 

December 8, 1964

Originally Posted on December 12, 2016 by TomNorvell

Vol. 18 No. 49 | December 5, 2016

It was Tuesday afternoon, December 8, 1964. That is the day that my mother died. I was eleven years old.

She had been sick for several months. How many? I do not remember. But I remember the afternoon of December 8, 1964.

The school bus made the stop at my Aunt Eunice and Uncle Ruby’s grocery store at the intersection of Highway 4 and Melrose Lane. I had the option of getting off the bus there and making the quarter-of-a-mile walk to my house. Or I could stay on the bus until it made the loop back around to my house. If I stayed on and helped Mr. Day make sure all the windows were shut, he would often buy me a soft drink at one of the nearby cafes. On that Tuesday afternoon, I saw my sister and brother-in-law’s car at the store, so I decided to get off. Little did I know what was waiting for me.

Just inside the door on the left, a couple of chairs were inviting the regulars to sit, catch up on the latest happenings, enjoy a soda from the refrigerated box, or enjoy a candy bar from the glass-covered case just a few steps away. That is where I saw my sister and brother-in-law sitting as I opened the door. I can still hear the jingle of the bell situated to alert my aunt and uncle that a customer had arrived.

I do not remember the details of what happened next. They told me that Mama had died, but I do not recall the words. I do not remember if I cried, although I am sure I did. I remember seeing my aunt and uncle standing behind the cash register and the woman who would eventually become my stepmother smoking a cigarette at the end of the counter. She had known for a while that her time with us was limited. She had talked to all of us about it, so technically, we knew this time would come, but mentally and emotionally, none of us were prepared.

The next thing I remember about the afternoon f December 8, 1964, is pulling into the driveway of our house. My Uncle James (my mother’s brother) greeted me, walked with me out by a big oak tree in our yard, put his arms around me, and said: “Go ahead. Let it out!” And I did.

That was the afternoon of December 8, 1964. That was fifty-two years ago (fifty-eight now).

We eventually went inside the house where my grandmother and other family and friends were gathered. I have only a few sporadic memories of the days and months following.

My memories of that afternoon are hazy but the lessons I have learned since December 8, 1964, are not.

I have learned that loss is painful and inevitable and that the pain may never completely go away. For an eleven-year-old boy, the loss of a mother is beyond traumatic. For a sixty-three-year-old (sixty-nine) man, that loss is still very real. Yes, I have matured and moved past most of the intense pain of that afternoon, but there are still days when I long to hear her voice and feel her touch. I would love to have another taste of her fudge, Divinity, at Christmas time, hear her pop popcorn in a skillet, and eat her fried chicken and coconut cake. Much of my life has been lived to honor her life and her memory.

I have learned that life is short and passes quickly. Forty-four years is not a long time to live, but if lived well you can influence a lot of people. Poetry and song often state that it is not the length of one’s life that counts as much. It is the quality of one’s life and the number of lives that are touched that matter.

I have learned that family is important and should not be neglected. The family must be a priority. Quality time with family in large quantities is also important. If you are fortunate enough to be able to spend time with your family, please do not neglect or take for granted that time.

I have learned that what we leave behind is probably more valuable than the things we accomplish from day to day. Here I sit, fifty-eight years later, thinking about the mother that lived only eleven-and-a-half years of my life. I am only one of four children she influenced. Her grandchildren and great-grandchildren and all who follow will reap the benefits of the impact she had in her short life.

And, I have learned that a life surrendered to the Lord God Almighty, no matter how short or how long, is one that never ends.

May 24, 1920, to December 8, 1964, are the dates that mark a life that continues to live. It was a Tuesday afternoon, December 8, 1964…

Tom

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December 5, 2022 – Vol. 26 No. 39

Peace On Earth 

Suddenly a great company of the heavenly host appeared with the angel, praising God and saying, “Glory to God in the highest heaven, and on earth peace to those on whom his favor rests.” (Luke 2:13-14)

Peace on earth is why Jesus came to earth. Peace on earth is what we pray for every day. Peace on earth is what we pray for especially this time of the year. 

We sing songs about it. We send cards with the sentiment in them. We light up our yards with the words. We hope in our hearts for it. 

And yet, we look around us and find very few signs that there is peace on earth. We wonder if there will ever be peace on earth. 

And once again we are reminded that peace on earth begins with me. 

Peace on earth is not the responsibility of the political leaders, nor is the responsibility of higher education or leaders of the churches. Of course, those people and those institutions can and should do their part, but peace on earth begins with me. 

It is my responsibility to first find peace with God and allow that peace to radiate from me to my family, my friends, my co-worker, my church, and all people with whom I interact.

Peace on earth will come when I lay down my anger and resentments. Peace on earth will come when I accept that I do not control people and most events and allow God to do what only He can do. 

Peace on earth, for my circle of influence on the earth, begins with me. So, my prayer is to let there be peace on earth and let it begin with me.

I invite you to join me and let’s bring peace to our part of the earth. 

A Norvell Note © Copyright 2022 Tom Norvell All Rights Reserved

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