“If you loved John Arends, you’re going to love this blog.” (A paraphrased quote from John.)

Woodmen Valley Chapel was full as we assembled to say good bye to a pillar of the Colorado Springs real estate community. I’d known him briefly–an associate in Springs Best networking group. Every Thursday morning at 7 over breakfast at The Olive Branch, a family of business associates assembled to support and enrich each others’ businesses. John and I exchanged pleasantries on a number of occasions.

It was a card he sent me, however, that truly endeared him to my heart. I’d had an article in the Gazette–front page of the Sunday Business section. Debbie Kelley had done a wonderful job of relaying my Generational Communication info. Carol Lawrence had snapped a great, sassy picture. I was delighted as my friends called to congratulate me.

John’s congratulations card arrived a few days later. He’d cut out the article, folded it nicely so my picture was on top, popped it into a card with a beautiful butterfly on the outside and a sentimental “perseverance” quote on the inside. Across the bottom he had scribbled, “Lindee, Nice ‘ink’! John”

The message was simple, unpretentious, articulately and artfully written. It was first class all the way–and sooo John Arends. It’s that optimistic, supportive, elegant presence that we will all miss most of all. He touched so many lives.

Thank goodness Pastor Matt Heard gave us all permission to laugh and cry, because that’s what we did for the next two and a half hours as friends and family shared stories of John with us. Stories of achieving greatness within the ranks of ReMax, awesome long-shot putts (”If you love golf, you’re going to love this putt.”), a spiritual quest after the loss of his daughter, dedication to his Girls–wife, daughters, and grand-daughters, and an appreciation of Colorado sunrises and sunsets–God’s reminder that all is right in the world. Even when one of us has slipped beyond it.

The sadness of John’s passing was summed up beautifully for me by his brother, Dale. He read a haiku written by John’s mother years before:

“Happy times are everywhere, it’s up to me to find them.”

Thank you, John Arends, for my renewed appreciation of an orange, pink, and purple sunset…and the legacy of words to live by. Happy times are everywhere…not only will I find them, but share them, and relish them.

Growing up the daughter of a devout Catholic–two actually–I witnessed first hand the power of Saint Jude. Saint Jude, according to legend and belief, is the patron saint of Lost Causes. While other Catholics would pray to Saint Anthony for lost objects, Saint Christopher for safe passage, and bury Saint Whoever upside down in the back yard to sell their house, my Mom went straight to the top–Saint Jude.

I have witnessed my Mom walk into a 40 acre field, at sunset, and find a tractor part the size of a bottle opener. I’ve seen her find misplaced checks, rogue house and car keys, and glasses gone missing. All she does is say a quick prayer, promise a financial reward as gratitude, and go in search of the missing object. Saint Jude comes through–almost always, and almost always immediately.

I, myself, have called on Jude on numerous occasions–like when I threw out an important bottle of medication and had to go dumpster diving to find it. Jude has helped me find countless items, and more importantly, has helped me through times of great stress…times when my moral has been in the toilet and I’m standing alone on one last shredded nerve. To me, Saint Jude represents faith…and the power of prayer. From that very first time in elementary school when I lost my brand new retainer and had to call in the Big Guy, I’ve been a believer.

Today I invoke Saint Jude. There is only one thing on my list, and I need it now. With heartfelt gratitude, I thank you in advance for coming through. Saint Jude, you’re the Dude.

And, as always, I’ll be sending my gratitude check to Saint Jude’s Children’s Hospital.

Is there anything more exhausting than having to get up? The alarm goes off, we hit the snooze, and then lie in bed preparing ourselves for getting up and out of bed the next time it goes off.

“I want to wake up, not get up,” Steve said to me one night as I was setting the alarm. It made perfect sense to me. Who doesn’t enjoy a Saturday or Sunday morning when you can sleep until you’re done? Few of us have that luxury daily. For me it’s getting the kids on the bus, or making an early morning networking meeting, or coffee with clients. The good news, being self-employed, I have no office to report to at a certain time–besides my own home/office.

I find my agenda for the day sets my mood and perspective. If I’m going to do something that I’m not highly motivated to do (translation: I don’t want to do it), I feel proportionally exhausted. Just the thought of having to get up and do it makes me tired. Those are the multiple-snooze mornings.

Then there are those days that I can’t wait to get to my agenda–the “to do” list. Those days I wake up on my own–no alarm clock needed–the reason for getting up is also an internal “wake up” call. The day is stretched open to opportunity.

If you’re in reasonably good health, are getting to bed on time, have no external reason to set the alarm, why not let your body and mind determine the wake up time? And get up time?

And if you just can’t get up perhaps it’s not an alarm problem at all. Could the true “wake up” call be the need to change your daily agenda?