Time With Tandy

Inspirational author and speaker

Time With Tandy

Inspirational author and speaker

Blog

  • In the Blink of An Eye

    I stood gazing out the living room window. A palm tree waved gently in the morning breeze. Three pelicans flew low over the surface of the blue-green water.

    Peace flooded over me. Gratitude followed closely behind. Songs of praise burst forth. What an amazing start to my day.

    I sat in a chair by the window and reached for my Bible sitting on the tile-topped table. Something caught my eye and I froze mid-reach. There by my right foot was a cockroach, laying on its back. And just like that my focus shifted. Praise took a back seat as dread took over.

    Was it dead or just flipped over? My first instinct was to get as far away as possible. I knew, however, that would not be a wise decision. If I came back later and found it gone, thoughts of where and when it it could come back would plague me.

    The only solution was to destroy it so there would be no doubt regarding its return. Unfortunately, this couldn’t be done from a distance. I needed to get close enough to take the necessary action. With no-one else to turn to, I summoned up all the brave I could and eliminated this blight on my day.

    Looking back on the incident, I could draw a parallel to life circumstances. When everything is going well, it is easy to feel joy and gratitude. As nice as it would be to believe life will remain positive, experience tells me this is not the case.

    The question is not if unpleasant things will happen but how will I react when they do? They show up with no advance warning. I have no opportunity to brace myself. Oftentimes, the struggle is not physical, but in the confines of my mind.

    I’ve tried to ignore my troubling thoughts and hope the issue will not reappear. Sometimes it even seemed to work for a while. Eventually I would myself looking for them to make sure they weren’t going to pop up and destroy my carefully constructed facade. They were not gone, only hidden.

    I’ve not only heard that problems buried alive never die, I’ve experienced it. As difficult as it was at the time, I needed to face the issue. The sooner I dealt with the problem, the sooner I was free to get back to living life fully. No more looking over my shoulder (or down at my feet).

    I prefer to have these reminders delivered in a form other than a cockroach, but I know this delivery is one that I won’t soon forget!

  • Valentine Beach

    Today is Valentine’s Day. Brian and I only celebrated this in the early days of our marriage. Later, we jokingly referred to it as a day for amateurs. We showed each other our love on a regular basis and didn’t need a day on the calendar to remind us to do so.

    Nevertheless, Brian was definitely on my mind when I awoke.

    A glance outside showed the lowest tide I’d seen so far on this trip. I quickly got dressed and went out onto the beach. The sunshine and slight sea breeze were the perfect start to my day. Tranquility washed over me as I soaked in the sounds of birdcall and water lapping the shore.

    I felt this was not a to be a brisk, stride along the beach day. Instead I meandered (isn’t that an awesome word?). It had been several years since I’d spent time looking for shells and this morning felt like the right time to resume this lost interest.

    Pleasant memories of shell hunting with Brian accompanied me. I chuckled at the thought of having too many shells to carry and Brian using his t-shirt as a carryall! Then I spotted a shell tumbled by the tide enough to be almost translucent. These were not as common and the only ones he had collected. His goal was to turn them into something unique and beautiful for his grandchildren. The perfect project was never found.

    I picked it up, a precious reminder of what we had once shared. Tears sprang to my eyes, making it difficult to focus. I couldn’t seem to move forward so turned back towards home.

    I hadn’t gone far when a glimmer in a pool of shallow water caused me to stop and investigate. I bent closer to see what was floating there. I couldn’t quite tell and had to scoop it out to get a good look. There in my hand, was one of Brian’s favourite shell types – this one in a heart shape.

    In a way that only God can, I had just been presented with a reminder that I am still seen and loved. Shell cradled gently in the palm of my hand, I felt the invisible hug. I returned home, knowing I am blessed – for what I had, what is now, and whatever lies before me.

  • Emerging


    Massive blocks of marble stood in the gallery. Many of them were completed statues.

    Others were works in progress, some forever in that state as they had been abandoned due to the death of the artist.

    The incomplete ones were described to us as figures trapped in the marble, waiting to emerge.

    I found it fascinating that an artist would envision the finished work inside of the stone and then chip away all the parts that were unnecessary in order to achieve this vision.

    Like those unfinished statues, I too am a work in progress. My full potential is still emerging.

    Sometimes the chipping away of parts that are ingrained like stone proves painful. Once the self-doubts are taken away, it is necessary for me to step out of my fears and move forward. Each step I take gives me the confidence to take the next one.

    More stone is chipped away and I feel lighter. My movements, once tentative, become more fluid. My eyes see things I’d missed. My ears rejoice at an abundance of sounds. My mind is open to new possibilities.

    Scripture tells me, “He who has begun a good work in you will carry it on to completion.” I have confidence that God, the Master Artist, will not abandon me or the work He is doing in me.

    Every day more of the real me is emerging and I’m excited to see who I am becoming.

  • Out of the Darkness

    I stepped from the brightly lit room and into the dark night. The blackness overwhelmed me and I wanted to go back. That option was not possible. The only way home was to go through the darkness, so I cautiously moved forward.

    Slowly my eyes became accustomed to the lack of brightness and my surroundings became less frightening. In the dark night of grief, I wondered how I could find my way without the light my loved one brought to my life.

    I looked up for guidance. Above I could see twinkling stars, their pinpricks of light giving encouragement.

    Bit by bit, my thoughts shifted from the pain of loss to the comfort of wonderful memories. Each brought a sparkle of light into my darkness. The process is gradual but I have faith my long night will fade into the dawning of a new day. When I keep looking up, light will be given to guide the steps I need to take.

    I am grateful for those who have walked this journey ahead of me and offered much needed light as they held high their candles of hope and understanding. With the Lord’s guidance, I pray I can do the same for others.

  • New Year Prayer

    It has been my tradition for many years to start a new year by sharing a prayer that my mother shared with me decades ago.

    2025 was a challenging year for me but also one filled with personal growth. As the first entire calendar year without my soulmate beside me, I faced a roller coaster of emotions. Through it all, God was there, comforting, guiding, protecting and leading me to new challenges and adventures.

    I pray the words here will come to be as meaningful to you as they have been for me.


    NEW YEAR PRAYER

    May God make your year a happy one,
    Not by shielding you from sorrow and pain,
    But by strengthening you to bear it, if it comes.
    Not by making your path easy,
    But by making you sturdy enough to travel any path.
    Not by taking hardships from you,
    But by taking all cowardice and fear from your heart.
    Not by granting you unbroken sunshine,
    But by keeping your face bright, even in the shadows.
    Not by making your life always pleasant,
    But by showing you where man and his cause need you most,
    And by making you anxious to be there, and to help.

    Author unknown

  • Nativity Sets

    One of my most prized possessions is a non traditional nativity set. My brother carved this for my mom many years ago. How many? I knew it must be at least 30 years. When I contacted him recently to ask, he thinks it’s been more like 50 years! I think that officially makes it an antique.

    I keep the pieces carefully wrapped and in the same box my mom used. Nativity, written by her hand, is still clear on the side. Every year as I set this out, I am flooded by memories. Those of a mother’s love. Those of my brother who spent countless hours creating this gift. Those of gratitude to my heavenly Father who gave the greatest gift of all in his son, Jesus.

    To celebrate Nativity and the meaning behind this popular Christmas decoration, I’d like to share a little story with you. Unfortunately, I don’t know who wrote it, so can’t give proper credit. I pray it touches your heart with Christmas Spirit as it did mine.

    In order to save the beautiful ceramic nativity set from the grasping, sticky fingers of her young daughter, Linda crafted a play grouping out of burlap, canvas and yarn. Five-year-old Elizabeth would spend hours rearranging the pieces and acting out the Christmas story. Mother would quietly laugh to herself when she heard Elizabeth inevitably say, “Hey, Jesus’ mother, Can I hold your baby?”

    Mother just couldn’t picture the work-roughened hands of a shepherd cuddling an infant, or a royal king, such as the Magi, stooping down to embrace a poor child in a manger. But it made perfect sense to little Elizabeth. If these people were going to make a trip to see a baby, they wouldn’t want to leave without holding it.

    Think about it. She really isn’t so far off. When you see babies, it’s only natural to admire them or comment on how cute they are. But if you actually pick up that baby, a phenomenon takes place. Holding that child, gazing into those wide eyes, and connecting with that uniquely God-given personality – that baby gets into your heart!

    Don’t you think the shepherds and wise men were drawn in the same way to embrace the Infant of Bethlehem and experience the miracle of His love in their hearts that first Christmas?

    As you make your journey to the stable in Bethlehem again this year, don’t just gaze on the Child in the manger and  turn away unchanged. Embrace the Baby of Bethlehem, the pure light of God’s love, and let Him shine in your hearts and make your lives new.

    Don’t leave without holding the baby.

  • 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.