Entering the Arena

It's not the critic who counts; not the man who points out how the strong man stumbles, or where the doer of deeds could have done better. The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena ... who, at best, knows in the end the triumph of great achievement, and who, at the worst, if he fails, at least fails while daring greatly. So that his place will never be with those cold timid souls who know neither victory or defeat. -Theodore Roosevelt, 26th President of the United States of America

A steep mountain to climb

A few years ago, I remember when our oldest son stood about so-high (a little over waist height for my nearly 6-foot-frame) and we visited a popular amusement park as a family. We started the day over in the kiddie-land, which is always filled with double strollers, moms in high jeans, dads wearing stuffed backpacks, and kids running in every direction usually sucking pacifiers or lollipops, depending on the age. Kiddie-land at every amusement park seems to be a place of fleeting laughter and wailing kids, not understanding why their tilt-a-whirl ride ended so soon.

So when our oldest son, probably 6 at the time, asked to ride a "big" roller coaster, my husband and I eyed each other, raised eyebrows, and followed his lead.

It turns out we ended up ogling one of the largest roller coasters on the premises-- I'll call it the "Grand Shoot-Em-Up Loop-D-Loop." Again, our oldest son pointed, and my husband, pushing the double stroller with our other two sons, raised his eyebrows again. And since he measured above the height requirement line, we had no argument left. He had big dreams. And we weren't about to stop him.

Off we went, my oldest and me, to stand in an hour-long line while I contemplated whether I could stomach the ride ...

Isn't it a gift when we know what our goals are, and where we want to go with our days, years, and lives? When we do find those things in everyday life--those things that make us tick, the essence of our hopes and dreams--it's important not to settle for less, for the pacifier crowd in the wailing kiddie-land. But to stretch ourselves to pursue wholeheartedly following our dreams.

When we do, we enter the ring. We walk into the arena. With all of those who dare to live, to dream big, and to pursue that vision regardless of the daunts from the bully called failure. Because after the giant roller coaster, we may know the thrill of having stepped up to the challenge and laughed all the way back down to solid ground.

This week, I'm in the US, in the Heartland, at a national fiction conference, learning and meeting new people who share my love for writing and fiction. What a great place to be! So very grateful to have the opportunity, and so thankful for my family and so many friends supporting me on the journey. Here's to entering the arena ... and to the adventure always found in a life well lived.


Starting the conversation: What giant roller-coaster-type dreams do you have? How can you move toward fulfilling those dreams?

The Bright Side of the Road

“Happiness is a butterfly, which, when pursued, is always just beyond your grasp, but which, if you will sit down quietly, may alight upon you.” –Nathaniel Hawthorne

What do you think of when you hear the word change?

When I hear the word change, I don’t think of jingling coins in a pocket, or cringe because I want to only keep things just as they are—comfortable. No, change to me means the new normal. Change is the hallmark of our past year, moving from Cincinnati, Ohio, to an expat life in Prague, Czech Republic.

This past year has been crazy-hard. Everything is different for us. In fact, we’ve had many discussions about some of the things that have stayed the same for us, our constants in a sea of change, things we are incredibly thankful to have: family, faith, health, Snickers. Things that have changed: well, everything. Yes, even our foods have changed, drastically. Nothing is the same. Change is our new normal.

I’ve had dozens of people ask or comment in the past six months, “How can you always be so positive?” or “Why are you always looking on the bright side?” After about the twentieth comment, I’ve had to stand aside and think for a while. Why? How?

This is what I’ve come up with, like the title of one of my favorite Van Morrison songs: I choose the Bright Side of the Road.

Nothing profound. But daily, I think, it’s a choice on how we choose to see the world. For the good or for the bad. For the light or for the dark. For the blessings or for the bummers. If we don’t choose to make today great, to see the beauty in the chaos, to find the best even out of the worst, today will be … just the opposite.

All photos copyright Jennifer Lyn King at www.jenniferlynking.com

Some say this mindset is a “positive” one. But I think it’s focusing on the truth. Today is a gift, created by our God who cares. And because he cares, we are freed to see the bright side of the road.

So, though things continuously don’t go as planned, it’s okay. For without the dark shadows in life, we wouldn’t have the contrast to clearly see the light. Today, I choose to walk on the bright side of the road. How about you?

Now What?: Three Daily Goals for Moving Forward through Change

I had lunch with a friend yesterday, and we talked about the struggle with Now What? Maybe the question is familiar to you, as well … so I thought I’d write about it, at this time of year of new life and love at Christmas, and fresh starts at the New Year.

The Nativity near Saint Nikolas Church, on Old Town Square, Prague, Czech Republic

Jesus came. And we ask: Now What?

He said, “I have come that they may have life, and have it to the full.” –John 10:10

Now What? is a question I face whenever I’ve crossed the threshold into a new phase in life. This year, I’ve been challenged in new ways (all our boys are in school full-day this year, and we’ve moved to Prague as expats), and so I’ve asked the question quite a lot. Now What?

Sometimes the question sneaks up as we work hard and struggle through something to achieve a worthwhile goal (maybe losing a few pounds, going for a job interview, or even—defeating cancer). But once we’ve reached that goal, we get to the triumph, breathe a moment, and then wonder Now What?

For me, maybe it’s that I’ve changed a bit during the journey to get there, or maybe had to grow a whole lot. After the goal, the world looks different. And there at the brink of our next step, if we listen closely, we can hear the question ring out from deep inside: Now What? Because nothing is the same—the way we see the world, the way others see us, and our relationship to our prior goals. Maybe it’s that the pieces of our lives have rearranged themselves in order of importance.

I’m a firm believer that 1) Life is a gift, and 2) We were each made for a reason. This article post written by Michael Hyatt, based on the new Andy Andrews book, The Noticer, sums it up well:

We have been given the gift of today because we have yet to fulfill our biggest purpose; we have yet to make our most important contribution. [my paraphrase]

In that light, today is another step closer toward fulfilling that for which we were created.

These are my three answers to the question, Now What?, and coincidentally my goals for each day:

1) Love.

2) Be Loved.

3) Make the best use of the gifts I’ve been given to shine for God.

God offers us new beginnings every step along the way. Today is the next step …

Starting the Conversation: When have you thought the question, Now What? And what is the answer you heard?

Some Czech Follies Thus Far

Some things, I have to say, are the same on the other side of the world. The sun often shines in a cerulean sky, mothers lovingly push babies in strollers, children wear bright backpacks to school, and harvesters gather ripe wheat before a rain. Somehow, living on the other side of the world from the States has opened our eyes to just how small the world really is.


But, in the same breath, I also have to say that some things are quite different. After living in Prague for over a month, we’re heartily aware of some of the differences. Instead of the alternative, we’re choosing to laugh—because in many ways, our learnings really are funny. And so, I’d like to share some of our Czech Follies, thus far.

· Driving: Yes, we’re driving in Prague. Many things are the same—cars speed, buses plod, motorbikes careen, and trams hit cars. In Prague, the trams do literally hit cars, because they apparently have the right-of-way. Yikes! I stay as far from trams as I possibly can in my little rented Sköda. Not only does the engine whine (like Americans would expect a tiny Eastern European car to do), but often flooring it just doesn’t quite get the desired result in the beautifully hilly, winding roads near where we live. In my ignorance to Czech driving signs, I did not realize, until a Volvo saleswoman instructed me, that here, on certain roads, the cars stopped and entering from the right-hand side have the right-of-way. (Ohhhhh! Now I understand why many Czech’s shake their hand in the air as I pass by. Oops!)

· Cell phones: For some reason, Czech cell providers don’t have many folks to help customers even in broken English. Armed with a few vital Czech words and phrases, I obtained a prepaid card soon after our arrival in Prague. But, as time has gone by, I’ve wondered what the plethora of cell provider text messages have said. (Have I mentioned that Czech is a very complicated and difficult language?) One night, with my husband still away at work meetings, my cell coverage stopped working in the middle of a horrific thunderstorm. With no other form of available communication, I linked onto the internet and ordered a recharge for my cell phone … or so I thought. The next day, I received six boxes of fifty Koruna phone cards ($2.50 apiece). Not quite what I thought I ordered, even with Google translator in action. Um … still haven’t figured this one out, except that last night, I was able to decipher the O2 text message: I’m completely out of coverage. A new adventure for today, I think.

· Grocery Store: The nearby Hypermarket seems so similar to our wonderful Kroger in the States. Of course the food is different, but we have everything we need there, which is such a relief. The one thing about the shopping experience that brings me to a cold sweat even now is the checkout. Let’s just say I miss having baggers, or someone to help me load and move my groceries before the cashier throws the next three people’s groceries onto mine. I’m learning to cope by telling new grocery stories at the dinner table at night, and enjoying sharing the laughter.

There’s nothing like a little laughter in the midst of a lot of change. Because a smile, I think, and laughter translates into every language, and can brighten any corner of the world.

Finding Something New

Last month, our family left our home of ten years in Ohio for Central Europe, where we will make our home for the next few years. Each of us, including my husband and our three school-aged sons, has gone through a different process of leaving, and we all have had areas of our lives where leaving has almost taken a crowbar to pry us away. We all had our own pieces of comfort and familiarity that were particularly tough to leave behind.

The hard part of leaving is a very personal process, I think. For when we need to move on and have to leave something behind, we leave a part of ourselves as well. It’s easy to focus on the things we leave behind, the pieces torn from our lives by the wake of change. Far harder, I think, is opening the mind to the new possibilities ushered in by change and catching fleeting serendipity as it flutters by.

We are now in our new environment, and daily we are finding many delights and great surprises that far surpass what we thought we would find—new friends, flowers, foods, culture, and the accessibility of family via the internet. Two small examples: even though we left behind beautiful gardens, the floral beauties in Prague are lush and cascade from countless windowboxes and gardens on every street. And even though we left behind a small aquarium where some of our sons’ favorite creatures were the snails (that tragically never stayed alive long), our boys have discovered countless snails in our yard at our new house in Prague. I’m convinced that never before have snails been so loved like pets, despite the familiar saying for “snails and puppy dog tails, that’s what little boys are made of.” Yes, the new has us thrilled in ways we couldn’t have imagined—and certainly the discovery will continue. We are grateful. Perhaps new shouldn’t feel so scary.
When we leave something behind, yes, we do leave a piece of ourselves in the process, but I now believe we also gain something more as well. For in the process of moving forward into the unknown, we find a place where we are stretched and can more fully connect with the essence of who we are and that which we are truly made. Perhaps only in the unknown can we discover possibilities far wider than what we previously imagined; only in the new place can we really find a larger part of ourselves.

A Giant Called Change

For those of you who know me, or who have been following my blog for any small stretch of time, you are aware of the unique life circumstances that have come the way of our King family of five. We are now en route to Central Europe to begin our next adventure in life—a three year expat assignment with my husband’s job. All five of us are quite excited about the immediate future—new sites, new foods, new language, and new experiences. We are all looking forward to fresh challenges—superb soccer and schooling for the boys, and the vibrant cultural, artistic, lingual, and architectural interests for me.

I took this photo of a juvenile male Ruby-throated Hummingbird on althea the last day at our house in Cincinnati. (I will miss the hummers, as they are only American jewels.)

Last week, packing week, proved to be a pivotal week for me. One huge thought still looms large in my mind: we, as Americans, have so much stuff. Though I think my personal tastes usually lean in the favor of minimalism, I know I sway even further in that direction now. Why?
· Having to itemize every thing in our house opened my eyes, far. (Think of your own house… lots of stuff, right?)

· One resonant question demanded an answer: What is it that I value most? Or what is it that I really need?

· Why do we naturally have so much stuff?

My quick answer to the last question—it’s the American Way, the American Dream, right? But, to answer the second question, I came to my conclusions, and found creative ways to use the things we do not need to try to help others.

As change has come upon us, many people have asked about the logistics of such an intercontinental move. We had to sort everything into three categories: air shipment (takes two weeks to reach us, very limited space), sea shipment (takes eight weeks to reach us), and storage (tried to pare down to only the things we’ll really want and need when we get back). After working through the house for sorting and packing, working through the details of selling the house and cars, and touching up paint and cleaning the house for sale, I can say that last week was incredibly demanding, and that this week is a welcome respite. Whew!

But when the whirlwind of activity dies down, it’s hard not to realize the Giant of Change bearing down on us. Fear easily slips in, and stirs up doubt. It is so much easier to go though our American Dream ways in Comfort Zone days and accumulate the stuff around us to pad ourselves against the frightening things that may come our way. But the truth is, I think, life is about change, and “safety” is an illusion; we might as well go out and embrace the unknown.
Perhaps in stepping up to bat with the Giant of Change, we can take away some of the power of fear and uncertainty, and begin to live the lives for which we were created.

And so … we are officially on our adventure over the seas to our new life in Prague. Thank you for your thoughts and prayers—I will keep you up to date, and share as much of the adventure as possible here on my blog. And, I’ll let you know how my theory with handling the Giant called Change develops … maybe it will be a great thing!

Enjoy these precious summer days, JK

Winds of Change

True to form, these last couple of weeks of vast change in our personal lives, I have been finding refuge in small spurts in the backyard. I’ve always been a backyard girl, excited about plants and animals that live there. Considering that the clematis and climbing roses have created a breathtaking paradise just outside our back door, recently I’ve spent a larger quantity of time outside than normal. It just so happens that an amazing phenomenon has been taking place. Not only have the tiniest birds in the avian world taken up residence in and around our yard, but the Ruby-throated hummingbirds have become a ubiquitous presence throughout every moment of daylight—even at 5:30 am. The garden fairies are out in full force now, rain or shine.

Before a friend gave us a hummingbird feeder several years ago, my husband and I had lived much of our lives in the Midwestern United States without ever even encountering a single hummingbird. Given their size and speed, hummingbirds are difficult to watch or even notice. But with a feeder and a garden blooming with hummingbird favorites, we now have such a steady stream of hummingbirds flitting about that it’s not uncommon for a hummer to come up for a personal greeting. Armed with my digital SLR camera, I have been hanging out near the hummingbird feeder to catch a shot or two.

Each time I actually capture a good photograph of a hummingbird, I rejoice! It’s not easy standing hidden and still for long minutes waiting, and hummers may be one of the fastest moving targets imaginable. BUT, I do occasionally catch a couple of good ones … I’d like to share a couple with you.

Every year, we have a juvenile male hummer take up residence near the feeder, and literally try to guard the feeder from any other hummers. Whenever another hummingbird comes into the vicinity, the high-speed chase begins. Funny enough, he chit-chits at me so as to scare me away as well, and if I’m lucky enough, he’ll do the famous hummingbird dive-bomb, too. It’s amazing that the tiniest of all birds have the largest personalities! So, as I caught this photograph of the mature male Ruby-throated hummer, the guard must have been sleeping…

The hummingbird in the next photograph was enchanting—completely unaffected and undeterred by my presence. I’m judging by the shortened tail and fluffy feathers that this one is a juvenile—I think it’s adorable!

Finding perspective while the winds of change blow through can be difficult. For our family, in the midst of an international move, looming change blows in like a gale force. Nothing seems as if it will stay familiar. But in the midst of unfamiliarity, many things stay the same—Nature. The sun rises and sets. The flowers bloom and the grass grows, regardless of what our schedules say. The birds fly and the sky blazes in impressive colors and shapes, unswayed by the craziness of our lives.

Solace and peace isn’t easy to hunt and find, but it certainly can be experienced by sitting back for a while, catching a breath or two, and enjoying the creation around us. Through the winds of change, I’ll be catching my breath in the backyard, camera in hand, catching more joys that fly.